Eochaidh - Legend of the Horsemen (Book One) Read Free

girl again.
Slowly, with both hands extended, the fairy flew forward and touched Meaghan’s
cheek, pushing off immediately and flying back several feet. The touch was like
a butterfly’s kiss.
    A smile lit on the tiny face and she did it again, flying
forward and pushing back. She giggled, the sound like a tiny bell, and smiled
at Meaghan.   Delighted, Meaghan smiled
back wondering if the fairy would stand on her palm.  
    Slowly lifting her hand and raising her palm to the sky,
Meaghan waited, holding her breath. The fairy came forward and hovered over her
open hand as if she was deciding.   Finally she dove forward, pushed off from Meaghan’s cheek and soared
into the sky, her faint laughter echoing in the trees.
    Meaghan watched her until she disappeared into the leaves of
the trees.   With a satisfied sigh, she
turned and quickly headed back to the path.   She had a lot to accomplish in a short amount of time.

Chapter Three
    Lord John Forsyth Herdin, Tenth Earl of Dunower, strode
quickly across the wood planked floors of the large stables, his leather
boot-clad feet echoing in the large corridor running between the rows of
princely stalls that held his horses.   Upon entering, his nose was immediately assailed by the scents of
freshly strewn straw and recently shoveled manure.   Dust motes hung, as if suspended, in the
beams of early morning light that shone down through the small mullioned
windows cut into the thick wooden walls.   The opening to the loft, a dark cavity hanging twenty feet above him,
was still cloaked in darkness. Even the glow of the oil lanterns hanging
strategically next to each stall door could not penetrate the inky gloom.
    The early morning noises of grooms emptying wheelbarrows
full of soiled straw or filling water troughs and feeders filled the air and
created their own kind of symphony. But Lord John had no time to think about
the ordinary workings of the day. He was on a mission and in a dreadful hurry.
    “Jepson, saddle Galahad immediately,” he called out into the
dim shadows of the stables.
    As if by magic, a dark-skinned man dressed in a loose
flowing shirt, vest and dun-colored breeches with tall leather riding boots
hurried forward leading a large bay stallion by the reins.
    “I thought you might have need of him this morning, milord,”
Jepson answered in a soft accent, as he passed the reins to Lord John.
    He paused for a moment, looking at
the man he now called his master. The light cast a glowing halo around Lord
John and Jepson was brought back to the day he met Lord John. He, along with
other young men in his caravan, had been pressed into service by His Majesty’s
Army.   Because they were Gypsy, the army
used them to take care of the horses in the cavalry.    Jepson’s officer was a cruel uncaring man
who thought more of his horse than the men serving under him and even less of
the Gypsy youth under his command.   Cold,
starving and exhausted, Jepson was near death when Lord John had ridden into
their camp. He was barely conscious, but he will never forget the dressing down
Lord John had given the brutal officer. He
might look like an angel, he thought of the tall, athletically built man, but he’s a devil if you cross him .   Serving Lord John in the military had taught
Jepson that the kind eyes and soft voice could be deceptive. And, even over a
decade past his time in the military, he knew his master to be as skilled a
warrior today as he was then.   So, he had
to admit, he felt a wee bit of sympathy for the poor fool who had made those
green eyes blaze this morning. “So she’s escaped again, has she?”
    Lord John worked his jaw for a moment more before finally
answering.   “Yes. Yes, she has,” he said.
“I know she’s headed to the forest.”
    Jepson shook his head. “There’ll be trouble if you don’t
find her in time,” he said gruffly.
    Lord John mounted Galahad, and the horse’s powerful hooves
danced with excitement, pounding on the