Defiance (The Priestess Trilogy) (43 page)

Shiovra quickly moved off the man and rose to her feet. “At the village,” she replied.

“This village?” pressed Odhrán, standing.

“Tara.”

He crossed his arms. “And he just left you leave?”

“Not willingly, no,” she said, placing her hand son her hips.

The Milidh man’s frown deepened, but before he could speak again, Daire livid shout interrupted.

“
Shiovra
?!”

Shiovra turned to face her cousin just before he grabbed her roughly by the shoulders.

“What are you doing here? Where is Eiladyr? Did the enemy see you? How could you do something so foolish?!”
Daire
demanded, shaking her.

Odhrán stepped forward and knocked Daire’s hands away from the woman.
“F
orget that for now. We need to put the fires out and tend to the wounded
!”

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

By dawn, all of the fires
had finally been quenched but heavy black
smoke continued to linger in the sky, given an eerie glow
with
the rising sun. The villagers had already
begun
clearing out the charred remains of their homes and tending to the wounded. Some of the village women had gathered food and prepared meals for everyone to help fuel their strength. It wasn’t much, but it was all they had to offer in such terrible times.

All
trace
s of the enemy were gone and Ceallach assured the villagers there would be no further attack, though it did little to ease their loss
. Flowers were strewn over the rubble which had come to serve as Ainmire’s resting place.
And, as the wind picked up, a faint feminine keening could be heard. It was as frighteningly beautiful as it was deep with sorrow.

“T
he lament of the
bean sidhe
,
”
Shiovra whispered as the
ir
anguish
filled cries
ra
ked through her body
.
She could not take her eyes from the charred remains of the main cottage, knowing she had failed to protect the man who lay within.
“
Together we
grieve
the loss of Tara’s chieftain
, cousin to our great chieftains.”

Ceallac
h moved to stand
quietly beside
the
priestess
.
“Their cries will
be heard all across
Éire,” the Fomorii man said after a prolonged silence. “All
shall
know of Ainmire’s death and morn
.”

Shiovra
nodded, biting her lip
. “There is naught I can do for Ainmire now,” she replied after a
moment
. “
His
spirit has passed through the Cave of Cruachan and he now resides in Tir na n’Og.” She turned to the Fomorii man,
meeting his pale eyes
. “
I have failed in my duty as High Priestess. I could not keep one man alive.
What more
, this village has suffered greatly.”

“
You did all that was within your power, just as we have,”
the man told her calmly.
“Réalta herself could not even prevent what happened here today
, though she would have tried just as we did. Do not blame yourself for Ainmire’s death. Instead look to what is more important now: protecting Tara and her people.”

Shiovra regarded the man quietly. Their parting on Rúnda had not been a pleasant one. She remained wary of what lay hiding behind his impassive eyes. Though, at that moment, the priestess believed she had finally seen a bit of who he really was.
“What
do
we do
now
, Ceallach Neáll
?” she co
ntinued, meeting his eyes
.

“We
fight
,” he replied simply.

Shiovra
could see a fire burning in his eyes she had never seen before. Nodding, she agreed. “Aye. We fight.” Turning, she approached
Odhrán, who stood waiting with her
horse. Searching his face, she saw great anger but did not back down under the intensity of his gaze. Instead she held her ground
.

Odhrán watched her for a moment,
and then
exhaled. “What you did was dang
erous,” he told her with
restrained anger. “Not only did you leave Tara, but you did it alone, leaving Eiladyr behind. What have you have to say about that?”

She
held his gaze firmly and replied, “I did what I had to. If you had let me come, then Ainmire might be alive. I will sit by idle no longer. I will fight alongside you, whether or not you approve. This is my battle too.”

Abruptly, Odhrán pulled her to him, crushing
her against his body. “Then you better be prepared
,” he whispered into he
r hair, lips brushing her neck, “because the actions you take, the battles you fight, will set the fate of Tara and her people.”

Her breath caught in her throat. There was an underlying heat beneath the harshness of his tone and it sent a rush of desire through her. His words were a dangerous challenge that she was more than willing to meet. And, as Odhrán released her and helped her mount her horse, Shiovra looked down at his with a daring smile. “Oh, I am prepared,” she told him. “Very much prepared.”

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

As midday approached, Tara was within their grasp, the Fomorii fog no longer present.
As
the companions
made their way through the village, the
grief on
their faces was apparent. The villagers left their tasks and followed
them to the main cottage. Mahon waited at the cottage door
,
Eiladyr and Naal standing at his side
.
The remains of the vines Shiovra had called upon the bind the door lay scattered at their feet. While Mahon’s face was filled with relief to see the priestess, Eiladyr’s gaze was bright with fury.

Bringing her horse to a stop, Shiovra dismounted and
turned to face the villagers.
She
saw grief, worry, anticipation, and
even
confusion.

Ceallach stepped forward.
“Ta
ra has suffered a grave loss,” he began, his deep voice loud and clear. “Ainmire has been lost.
Tara is
without a chieftain. By the time word of his death spreads through Éire, winter will be upon us. Men will be unable to journey here for the Stone of Destiny till the coming of spring. Till then, we will need someone to serve in Ainmire’s steed.”
Ceallach
paused. “
It is by my decision that Mahon serve as acting chieftain until the Stone of Destiny speaks
.”

A soft murmur
rose from the villagers.

“Will we be safe?”
questioned one
.

Shiovra
made to speak, but was interrupted by Earnán.

“Tara
will remain safe,” he told them
. “With winter approaching and Ainmire’s death,
Ailill
will
most likely
leave us alone for the time being. Anything else we can handle easily.”

“What of
Méav
?”

“Méav has no desire for Tara,” Ceallach said. “She has long turned her back on this village. It is Gráinne who poses a threat. With the aid we have received from Dún Fiáin and Ráth Faolchú along with the added swords of Meara’s men, Tara will remain safely guarded for the winter
. Rest assured, we are safe.”

A
fter further reassuring from Earnán’s part, the villagers began to disperse
.

Mahon turned to
Shiovra
. “Just what were you thinking?!” he demanded, pulling his sister aside by her elbow. “Not only did you leave Tara and go after them in the middle of the night, unarmed, but you left Eiladyr h
ere! Trapped within the cottage, nonetheless
!” He gestured to the man then shook his head. “
It took us most of the night t
he cut the vines down and open
the door!”

Shiovra
glanced at Eil
adyr,
meeting his dark glare with a challenging one of her own
. “
The battle is mine to fight as well,” she said, turning back to her brother. “I will not sit aside again.”

Mahon opened his mouth to speak, but Odhrán
stepped forward and touched his
shoulder.

“
May I speak with the priestess for a moment
?” Odhrán asked
.

Nodding, Mahon released her.
“We will talk again
later
.”

Offering her brother a tight smile,
Shiovra
followed Odhrán
away from the cottage
.
It
took her a moment to notice he led her to the tiny cottage that served as her own. Following him inside
,
he closed the door behind her and secured it.

Shiovra
paused beside her bed
, trying to adjust to the darkness.
In the dim light filtering through the cracks of the wicker-work door, she saw Odhrán placing wood in the empty hearth
.
Before long, a small fire was brought to life.
Silence hung heavily around them as Shiovra watched Odhrán tend to the fire.

Once the flames grew in strength, he straightened and approached her. Reaching a hand up, he touched her cheek, his fingers gliding down her skin. “
As I said before, w
hat you did was dangerous,”
he said in a low voice
. Odhrán pressed his body against hers, backing her up against a support post.

She wet her lips as memories of their coupling flooded her mind and body.
Every touch, every kiss, was fresh in her mind.
“I would do it again,” she replied, closing her eyes.

He brought his mouth to her neck, trailing kisses lightly across her skin. “You could have gotten hurt,” Odhrán growled, bringing his
possessively
hands
to her hips and running them along her sides, across her breasts and back again.

His hands were hot through her clothing and a shiver raced delightfully through her. “But I did not get injured, did I?” she countered
breathlessly
. It was a dangerous game they played, but she could not bring herself to stop. What should have never happened in the first place, what should not happen again, was
beginning to consume
her uncontrollably.
Pinned between his body and the post, Shiovra gasped as he pressed even closer.

Odhrán gathered up the length of her shift till
it pooled around her waist. “No, you did not,” he told her, his hands making quick work of his belt and breeches. “But if you ever do something so foolish again, I might not be so kind.” Bringing his hands to her thighs, he roughly hoisted her up and thrust into her
without warning
, covering her mouth with own.

Shiovra’s soft cry was drowned in the intensity of his kiss and she wrapped her arms around his neck.
There was not as much pain as before and it faded quickly.

“All that matters now is that you are safe,” he murmured, breaking the kiss, “and you are here with me.”
Odhrán moved slowly at first, his thrusts becoming quicker and harder as the want increased.

The priestess clung to him tightly, her breathing and heartbeat keeping rhythm with his movements.
Shiovra gasped as the desire and heat built up in her body, threatening to devour her completely. “Odhrán…” His name came as a moan through her lips. “Odhrán…” Repeating it over and over, she felt a sudden exhilarating sensation rush through
her body, one that left
her trembling afterward.

Odhrán brought his mouth back to hers, kissing her deeply as he gave a violent thrust and a groan was ripped from his throat.

Shiovra’s heart continued to race as she reeled from the effects of their coupling. Resting her head against his neck,
she could feel the pulse of his release within her.

He remained still for a while, keeping their bodies joined as their heavy breathing mingled with the crackling of the fire. After a long while, Odhrán shifted and set her back on her feet, though he did not release her. Leaning his head down, he trailed gentle kisses across her cheeks, her eyelids, even her nose. “You will always be mine, no matter the promise to Dún Fiáin’s chieftain,” he murmured when his lips reached her neck.