Defiance (The Priestess Trilogy) (38 page)

Eiladyr looked a
t her with a small pout forming on his lips. “You
think so?”
he asked.

She nodded. “Aye, Eiladyr,”
Shiovra
told him, guiding him towards the e
ntrance of the Banqueting House. Taking his cup from him, she handed it to the nearest villager.
“Come now,” she told him gently. “You need some sleep.”

Eiladyr nodded and, slipping his arm from
her shoulders, staggered from
the Banqueting House back towards the village gates.

“Will Lord Eiladyr be all right?” queried Úna’s voice.

“I believe so, though I would not be too surprised if we find him sleeping soundly on the ground,” replied Shiovra.

Úna looked at her
in shock.

Shiovra
laughed
and waved it off. “
Never mind,” she said. “
How are you enjoying the festivities?”

The Neimidh woman
smiled. “Greatly,” she replied
before hesitating
. “I
wish to
thank you for giving
us
your consent
to wed
.” Úna paused, blushing. “
I am still partially to blame. I should have stopped him the first time, but I love him so.
”

“Do not blame yourself,”
Shiovra
told her.
“
You followed your heart. Not everyone is so fortunate.
I wish
nothing more than the best
,” she told her,
with a gentle smile
.
From the corner if her eye, she spotted Daire walking through the crowd of villagers, searching.
“And I believe that your husband might be looking for you.”

“Oh! I am terribly sorry, Lady
Shiovra
,” Úna apologized.

“Think nothing of it,”
Shiovra
assured her. “Enjoy yourself. This is your celebration as well.”

Smiling, the woman nodded and made her way towards
Daire
.

Stifling a yawn,
Shiovra
leaned against the doorway and
looked out into the night. Outside of the Banqueting House, Tara was quiet and serene. Clouds blocked out the light of the moon and the scent
of rain hung heavily in the cool breeze. Suppressing
a shiver,
Shiovra
wrapped her cloak tighter around her shoulders.

“
A storm is moving in.”

Shiovra
glanced over he
r shoulder to see Odhrán standing behind
her. “Aye,” she said softly
, looking back out into the night sky
. “You can smell it in the air.”

Odhrán
moved
to stand beside her. “You are tired,” he stated quietly.

She nodded
in agreement, but remained still.

“
Come, I shall escort you back to the main cottage,” Odhrán said, offering his arm to her.

Shiovra
considered
his offer for a moment before accepting his arm
.

They walked through the
darkness in silence for a long while, the shadowy form of Eiladyr stumbling along the path ahead of them.

The priestess found the quiet of the night calming, a pleasant contrast to the din of the celebration that grew muffled as they walked away. She drew closer to Odhrán when the wind found its way into her cloak.

The Milidh man made no protest, only glanced at her and smiled.

Shiovra
found that small twist of the lips to be greatly disarming.
More than once Odhrán had expressed his desire for her, making her own wants grow dangerously. And now, as they walked along without a word spoken and only the innocent touch of her hand upon his arm, she realized that she needed him more than anything. That realization brought a newfound fear in her mind and heart.

Odhrán was a man she had hated, a man she had feared. He was a man who had been sent to protect her and gain her trust. And he was a man who had done just that and so much more. Knowing his affect on her, know how much he wanted her for his own,
Shiovra
feared how much danger she was placing the alliance in. She could not follow her heart wantonly as Úna had. Anything and everything that had come to pass between her and Odhrán, all that could possibly come to pass, would have to be forgotten the moment she returned to Dún Fiáin
for the sake of the alliance
. That mere though
t
terrified her more than anything.

The priestess was pulled from her
musing
by a drop of rain falling upon her eyelid. It was quickly followed by another and another.

Before long, rain tumbled down from the sky in a glorious shower
while t
hunder rumbled in the distance, low and deep
.

“It would seem that the storm has come
,” Odhrán commented
,
cast
ing
a side glance at her
with a grin playing across his lips.

Shiovra
paused, lifting her face to the sky and closing her eyes
.
“
Rain brings new life and promise while washing away pain and sorrow,” she said softly. With a sigh, she opened her eyes and turned back to Odhrán. “Since our first meeting over three moons ago, you have proven you
rself a trustful ally and companion. Throughout my anger and hate, you had remained by my side. You have suffered wounds for me, you have
threatened
me, and you have scolded me.
Yet,
throughout all, you have never once disproven your promise to
protect me
.”

Odhrán
nodded, remaining silent

“I thank you,” she continued with a tight smile. Shiovra started to speak again, but
faltered
and instead began walking the path once more, Odhrán falling in step beside her.

Thunder clapped
and lightning flashed blindingly as the rainfall became heavier.

Shiovra quickened her pace for the main cottage, but Odhrán’s hand upon her own brought her to an abrupt stop as they began climbing the hill.

Tugging her toward him, he said sternly, “Something troubles you.”
When she hesitated, Odhrán frowned and spoke her name gently,
“
Shiovra
.
”

She felt heat rise to her cheeks as his gaze drifted over her body, taking in the wet clothing that clung to her skin.

Exhaling, Odhrán placed a warm
hand on
Shiovra
’s back and l
ed her into the cottage. “You are soaking wet
,” he said. “Put on some dry clothes before you fall ill.” Odhrán told her, removing his soaking cloak and turning his back to her respectively.

She watched him a moment as he stood in the doorway and wrung the water from his cloak. She looked around the cottage quickly and only found Eiladyr as he snored loudly from one of the beds, curtain open and face pressed against the wicker-work screen separating his bed from another.

Keeping close watch on Odhrán and Eiladyr, she quickly stripped off her wet cloak and shift. Setting them aside on a bench to dry, she grabbed the closest piece of dry clothing she could find: a long tunic that barely reached past her knees. Though not appropriate for a lady of her status to wear, it was dry and warm. “I am done.”

Turning from the door,
Odhrán
raised a brow when he looked her over. Without a word spoken, he sat his cloak down
on the bench
before
pulling his wet tunic over his head.

Her eyes drifted over
the water that continued to cling to his toned chest, lingering on the scar adorning his side; a scar he had gotten protecting her in Caher Dearg.

Turning away from her, Odhrán added
more wood to the fire.

In the dim, flickering light,
Shiovra
noticed blue woad markings covering his entire back. Similar to the druid marking on his wrist, the design consisted of twin winged serpents
intricately
intertwined and consuming the tail of the other
. It was as beautiful as it was fearsome, and yet, Shiovra had never seen anything like it.
She did not know what the marking meant, did not know what the creatures were. All she knew was that she wanted to touch it.
Approaching him quietly, she reached a tentative hand out and traced the line with her fingers.

Odhrán tensed under her touch.

She pulled her hand away as he turned to face her. “Forgive me, I should not have…” Her words were cut short as Odhrán brought his mouth down on hers. Shiovra stood still, her hand trapped between them. His kiss was
tender
, lacking the demand and desire he had expressed previously. Closing her eyes, she let her hand fall to her side.

Breaking the kiss, Odhrán closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her in a gentle embrace.
“Do not fear to touch me, just as you should not fear my touch,” he breathed in her ear.

Shiovra nodded against his shoulder.

Silence settled over them as Odhrán continued to hold her in his arms. The cottage was quiet, save for
Eiladyr’s snores
which
nearly drowned out the din of rumbling thunder and rain pounding on the thatch roof.

Leaning against Odhrán, Shiovra relished the warmth of his body.

“Will you tell me now what troubles you?”

Her reply was short and quiet, “You.”

Odhrán
chuckled. “Me?”

Shiovra nodded
, pushing away from his embrace. “Aye, you,” she told him.
“You who constantly invades my thoughts. You who brings me to question my promise of union to the clan of Dún Fiáin. You who…” Her voice trailed off as she met his heated gaze. Taking a deep breath, she licked her lips and continued, “You who
places
very
dangerous thoughts
in
my mind.”

A smiled tugged at the Milidh man’s lips and he took a step toward her. “D
o you think you have no affect on me?” he questioned lightheartedly
, reaching a hand out and running the back of his fingers across her cheek
.

She faltered and he chuckled in turn.

“The night is late,” he told her,
dropping his hand and
turning back to the fire. “Rest. I fear this quiet will not linger much longer.”

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Daire made his way to the Sloping Trenches, the only place he knew he might be able to speak with Odhrán without prying ears to hear.
He was loath to trust the
Milidh man
, but it had to be done.
No one was closer to his cousin than Odhrán. Daire’s wait was not a long one for as he rounded a tree covered hill, he found Odhrán already waiting for him.

“You wanted to speak with me?”
asked the Milidh man.

Daire
nodded. “Aye,” he replied
firmly
.

Odhrán merely raised a brow in return.

“I know trust between us has not been the best,” continued Daire. “
We often do not meet eye
to eye, but I
want to trust you
.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he started pacing. “
With the Fomorii gathering and Shiovra’s visions of Ainmire’s death, we need every ally we can get.
”

“And how do you know that in the end I will not turn against you?” questioned
Odhrán, leaning against a tree and crossing his arms. “I, after all, Milidh.”

“I just have to believe that you won’t,” replied Daire.

“Quite possibly a foolish choice,” countered Odhrán
with a grin twisting his lips
.

Daire shrugged, smiling
. “I have made many foolish choices, what is one more?”

Odhrán chuckled.

“Father has been watching the movements of the Fomorii,” continued Daire, smile fading. “Though they do not travel to Brú
n
a Bóinne, they do indeed travel northward. If they join Ailill’s ranks, then we just may be fighting a losing battle. Even if we can prevent Ainmire’s death, Tara will face the threat of attack.”

“Regardless if Ainmire dies, what matters is that the people of this village live, right?”
Moving from the tree, he approached Daire and gave him a rough pat on the shoulder, grinning. “Every battle fought is a game of strategy, one move against another. The best maneuver is to turn the enemy’
s own ploys against them,” Odhrán said smoothly, “to stay one step ahead of them.
”