Chapter 2 Flight and Pursuit
##Inspired by the Irish mythological story##
Grainne snuck out of the great hall and went to the simple dwelling she shared with her handmaidens. This was to be the last day shared with them as Fionn was to take her to the marital bed in a few hours time. That she was not going to let happen, not after finding the love she had been waiting for. She felt it in her very bones that she was meant to be with Diarmuid.
She gathered up a practical change of clothes, her collection of medicinal and magical herbs, roots, and other dried plants, and packed them into a sack.
She went to a shelf in the corner of the room, reached up and took down a small vial that she had secreted away. She hurried back to the feast. Leaving the packed sack just outside the door, she hoped she had not been missed while she had been away.
As she entered the great hall, Fionn called to her "Where have you been my dear? We are about to share the binding wine."
It was tradition to raise a toast with a special wine made by the chief druid for the occasion, prior to the start of the wedding ceremony itself.
Grainne planted a kiss on Fionn's rough cheek, barely able to suppress her distaste, and told him she would be back in a minute - she had to check the wine was warm enough. She could see Diarmuid sitting in the corner, surrounded by the most beautiful maidens in the land -- yet, he only had eyes for her. That energy that had flowed between them when they first set sight on each other was still there, and waxing, not waning.
She approached the great cauldron of wine that was being warmed near the fire, and with her back to everyone, she tipped the contents of the vial into the blood-red wine. She turned back towards all the guests and confirmed that the wine was ready.
The druid and his helpers doled out the wine into goblets. And when everyone had one in their hand, the druid bade them all to stand. "With this wine we bind our king, Fionn, to his bride, Grainne, and to us."
To cries of "slainte", everyone downed their wine in one. Everyone except Grainne who only pretended to drink -- she had secretly emptied her goblet soon after it had been passed to her.
As they all settled back down, a quietness started to descend on the hall. Within a minute, everyone had slumped into a deep sleep.
Grainne got up and ran to where Diarmuid laid motionless on a table. With all her strength she could just about sit him upright. She took his face in her hands and stopped for a few seconds to marvel at Diarmuid's full, sensuous lips, before pouring an antidote to the potion into his mouth.
Diarmuid came back to life with a start.
"Grainne, what has happened?"
"Will you take my love Diarmuid, and take me away from here right now?"
"I will not, you are promised to Fionn". It broke Diarmuid's heart to utter those words. He knew he loved her the moment he laid eyes upon her. Now that love and his loyalty to a king he considered a father to him was renting his heart in two.
"Very well. Then I put you under Druid Bonds to bring me out of here."
"It is under bad bonds you set me. Why me?"
Looking him deep in the eye, she responded "You know why. You felt the energy that passed between us the moment we laid on each other. Love is a component of that energy. But there is something else too. Something older, with deep roots. We are meant to be together. Look me in the eyes and tell me otherwise Diarmuid".
Diarmuid had to lower his eyes from her gaze, and in a resigned whisper admitted "Yes Grainne, I felt all that too. And now you have cast those bonds, I must do as you ask and lead you from here. Quick, before they awake from your spell".
Outside, Diarmuid instinctively went towards the stables to get his horse. But Grainne caught his arm.
"No Diarmuid, if we take to the road they will catch us. They can change their horses. We need to take to the deep forest, where even a horse can't negotiate the trails. Get your hound, and meet me over there". She pointed to a gap in the palisade that surrounded the settlement.
Less than a minute later, Diarmuid and Bran were following Grainne into the dark forest, a single torch to light their way. He was surprised at her strength of thought and body. His feelings of love for her got stronger with every stride he took in her wake.
They traveled with only the shortest of breaks all night and all the next day. They just about made it through the following night, given a lift in their energy levels by some unusual mushrooms Grainne has found them and had made into a tea. But as that wore off, they realised they needed a real rest, even though Fionn and his men were surely hot on their heels.
The dark forest finally opened into a clearing at a ford in a narrow river. A few small huts could be seen in the distance. The smell of salt was in the air and seagulls shrieked overhead -- they must be close to the sea. As they neared the ford they saw an old man leading a packed mule through the shallow waters.
Diarmuid greeted the traveller and asked him what the name of the place was.
"This place has the name in the old language of Sord, meaning pure, as legend has it that there is a holy well somewhere hereabouts with the purest waters that have magical qualities. In our tongue, this place is named Swords. But as you can see, there are only a few dwellings. Now young man, lady, I must be on my way."
