Cáined’s snort shook Donal awake.

  “Fine, fine,” Donal said, rubbing his eyes. “How about you focus on the walkin’ and I focus on the rest of it?”

  The horse grunted, as if in reply.

  “Ah, dry up,” Donal muttered. “You know that I’m your favorite.”

  Cáined was a gift to the MacLaughlin brothers from their uncles Murrough and Niall, as well as Mrs. MacSweeney. Niall knew a horse breeder struggling to sell a high-spirited Connemara colt and suspected it was a kindred spirit to the brothers. Cáined was smoke from snout to haunches, trimmed with black mane and tail. He was as smart as he was stout, and in less than four months he had grown into the closest thing Donal had to a best friend.

  It was the deepest part of the night, the time during which neither horizon offered a hint of the sun’s location. The half-moon in the western sky reflected off of the soggier parts of the bog that surrounded the road. This part of Tyrconnell was uncharacteristically flat and open, and it offered Donal solace knowing his group’s flanks were secure.

  A darkened area in the distance ahead threatened that security.

  They approached a wild grove of Scots pine trees, primarily on the left side of the road. Donal glanced into the cargo area and debated the merits of waking his brother and Siobhan. The moon abandoned him thirty yards from the forest’s edge. It was down to the eyes, ears and instincts of both horse and driver.

  There was enough ambient light in the sky to contrast a massive form blocking the road. Donal reined Cáined into a walk and stood on the floorboard in front of his seat. His stomach dropped as the wagon drew within thirty yards of the obstacle and it was there he halted their progress.

  “Finn!” he whispered. “Siobhan!” He bounced the heel of his hand against the inside of the cargo area. They did not wake. He grabbed his spear and rapped it against the wagon wall before returning his attention forward.

  From this distance Donal could identify the blockage as two fallen trees bound with thick, coarse weaving. “I don’t understand,” he said aloud. “What manner of creature binds trees and blocks roads?”

  Three torches emerged from behind the roadblock. “The ones who collect tolls from passers-by,” a deep voice sounded. The strangers pushed themselves over the fallen trees and spread out as they approached the wagon; the largest of them chose the right side. Lights from their torches glinted off ten-inch scian blades.

  Donal couldn’t hide his relief. “Oh, it’s just you fellas. What exactly are you meanin’ to do here?”

  Two of the bandits looked at each other with wrinkled faces and grinned. “Dya’mean by that, boy?” the bandit on the left asked. “Don’t you know when you’re being robbed?”

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Oh, I see,” Donal said, bobbing his head demonstratively. “I’m afraid there’s not much here for you that’s worth the effort.”

  “I disagree,” said the bandit on the left. “That’s a fine-looking spear with an even better-looking jewel on it. That’s worth something.”

  Donal raised the spear and examined it. “This thing?” he asked. “I suppose so.” He twisted his body so that the spear handle landed in the cargo area between Finn and Siobhan’s heads when he brought it down with a thud. “Hey, Mrs. MacSweeney, we’re back from Killybóthan!”

  Siobhan sat straight up. “Mam? We’re here!? Donal, why didn’t you-” She looked around and recognized it was still night. She did a double take at the large bandit leering at her, his hands resting on the wagon.

  “Now here’s something that’s surely worth the effort,” the bandit said through a disconcerting smile.

  Siobhan’s chin dropped as she sighed. In a single motion she grabbed her staff, swung it backward far enough to pull energy from Mag Argetnel. “Cuma?tae!" she said. The head of her staff developed a yellow glow as it came back around and struck the cad square in his cheek, knocking him to the ground and out of her view.

  Her movement was the last bit of prodding Finn needed. He, too, sat straight up, fooled by Donal’s ruse. “Mrs. MacSweeney?” he asked. “I’m sorry, we weren’t—”

  The bandit on the left jumped back at Finn’s late arrival. Never one to miss a cue, Donal swung his spear and sliced the fiery head off of the bandit’s torch. He hopped out of the wagon and sparred with the outlaw, primarily using the handle of his spear. Better take it easy on the unfortunate eejits, he thought. He forgot about the third bandit until he heard the man approaching from behind. It’s a good thing Niall wasn’t here to see this.

  Luckily for Donal, his brother saw the attacker coming. “Gáe?!” Finn yelled. A gust of wind descended from his perch on the wagon, knocking the bandit over. “Guirid mital!” An orange glow spread across the blade of the man’s knife until he cried out and dropped it. Finn summoned a few fireballs, throwing them at the bandit’s feet until he fled into the forest.

  Donal shrugged. “I guess we’re done,” he told his unwitting training partner. He cued the handle into the man’s abdomen and then brought it up into his face to knock him out.

  Siobhan was out of the wagon, panting as she loomed over her adversary. She reached her left hand into the wagon and pulled out her sword. She stood over the large man’s head and pointed her leaf blade at him. “It won’t be long before we’re back down this road,” she said, “and we’d better not catch even your shadow. Grab your friend, sir, and go.”

  She leaned back against the wagon to catch her breath as the large man picked up his unconscious comrade, slung him over his shoulder and disappeared into the trees. “Anyone hurt?” she asked over her shoulder.

  “Not yet,” Finn said. “You’ll want to ask us again after we move these tree trunks. Maybe we should have made yer man help us before we sent him off?”

  “Or maybe you two could wake with reasonable encouragement,” Donal said. “You two almost slept through the whole fight!”

  “You know yourself we’d been awake for almost a full day,” Siobhan said. “For better or worse, not everyone is as accustomed to running on the wee lock of sleep you do.”

  Donal scowled for lack of a better comeback.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Finn said. “You two take Cáined down the road a bit so I can use a bit of thunder to knock this yoke out of the road, hai? There’s no need to cause him undue fright.”

  “Grand,” Siobhan said. “Let’s get on with it, then.” She helped Donal negotiate horse into turning itself around on the narrow road. “Tell me something,” she said to Donal. “Did you truly invoke my mother to get me to wake up?”

  Donal grinned.

  She swatted the back of his head. “I can’t believe you sometimes.”

  “You can believe I’ll be using that trick again someday,” Donal said.