Divine by Choice (4 page)

The loneliness of having no father in this world with which to share this amazing sight felt especially poignant as I watched my centaur warrior husband break rank and move fluidly toward me.

Dad would have liked him.

I mentally shook myself free from my morose thoughts, swallowing back a wave of nausea that threatened to overwhelm me. Throwing back my shoulders in an attempt to look Goddess Incarnate–like, I stepped forward to greet my mate. As he approached, the cheering died to an expectant hush.

ClanFintan closed the space between us quickly, but time seemed to suspend long enough for my eyes to be filled with the being that was my husband. He moved with a grace and strength that I had come to realize was unique to his species—centaurs. You might imagine that melding horse and human would create a creature that was either a monstrously confused apparition, or a gawky, uncomfortable attempt to mix worlds, but neither was true. Centaurs were, perhaps, the most exquisite creatures I had ever encountered. And my husband was a prince among them. He was tall. His human torso towered above my five-foot-seven frame. His hair was
dark and slick, reminiscent of Spanish Conquistadors, and it was tied back into a thick braid, from which a few tendrils escaped to play a teasing game around his well-defined face. Seeing him after a month's absence with new eyes, I was struck by how much he reminded me of a muscular Cary Grant, complete with chiseled cheekbones and a deep, romantic cleft in his chin.

I let my eyes slide down his body, and I felt my lips form an appreciative, welcoming smile as I took in his muscular torso, which the traditional leather vest of the centaur warrior left enticingly semi-bare. As I already knew, centaurs had a body temperature several degrees higher than a human's. Obviously, the chill in the air wouldn't bother him. Not for the first time I appreciated the muscular view his hot (in all senses of the word) body afforded me.

From his human waist back, his body was that of a well-muscled stallion. He stood easily sixteen hands tall at the withers. His coat was a rich bay, the color of ripe acorns that had been polished until they gleamed. This glistening bay deepened to black on his legs and tail. With each stride, his muscles rippled and tensed. As he approached me, he looked very powerful and suddenly—unexpectedly—very foreign.

He came to a halt directly in front of me, dwarfing me with his physical presence. I had to force myself not to take a nervous step back. My eyes lifted quickly from his body to meet his gaze.

ClanFintan's eyes were large but vaguely slanted, almost Asian in shape. They were the color of a starless night, so black I couldn't distinguish his pupils. I found myself trapped in their darkness, and the nausea I had felt earlier fluttered to life in the back of my throat.

I suddenly remembered my first response to the thought of being intimate with this amazing being. I had been more
than a little uneasy at the prospect—even after I had learned he could shapeshift into human form at will.

Then he smiled, and the lines at the edges of his eyes crinkled into familiar patterns. In one swift movement, he stepped forward and took my hand. Turning it palm up he raised it to his lips and kissed me softly. While his lips still touched my skin, his eyes again met mine, and he playfully took the meaty part of my palm between his teeth, nipping my hand gently.

“Hail, Epona's Beloved,” he said in a deep voice that carried throughout the crowd. “Your husband and your warriors have returned.”

His voice washed over me, reassuring me with its obvious affection. I blinked once, and my trepidation blew away like autumn leaves. This wasn't some gigantic stranger. This was my husband, my lover, my mate.

“Welcome home, ClanFintan.” As any good teacher can, I raised my voice so that it carried. My smile grew as I spoke. “High Shaman, warrior and husband.” Stepping into the warmth of his embrace, I was vaguely aware of the cheer that escaped from the watching crowd.

“I have missed you, my love.” His voice resonated throughout my body as he bent to capture my lips.

His kiss was brief and hard. Before I could return the kiss as enthusiastically as I'd like, he grasped me around the waist and swung me up onto his broad back. As if responding to a signal, the cheering crowd swept around us as individuals were welcomed by family and friends, and a tide of well-wishers pushed us joyfully toward Epona's inner courtyard. From the corner of my eye I caught a flash of silver-blond, and turned my head in time to see my friend, Victoria, accepting the restrained greeting of Dougal. They stood close to each other but not touching, letting the crowd swirl around
them. To a stranger, it appeared that Victoria's classically beautiful face was serene and unaffected by Dougal's presence. In the time I had known her I had come to understand that she masked her emotions well and, as Lead Huntress and provider for her people, that was only proper. But she could not conceal the emotions in her eyes, and right now they blazed with a desire that I hoped Dougal could read as clearly as I could.

ClanFintan moved forward with the crowd and Victoria and Dougal were soon blocked from my view. Sighing, I rested one hand lightly on his shoulder while I waved greetings to the warriors I recognized as we moved forward. Still a little shaky from my initial reaction to ClanFintan, I concentrated on being welcoming and goddess-like. This, at least, was a familiar drill. I had become accustomed to playing the benevolent Goddess Incarnate.

You are not playing, Beloved.

The words whispered into my mind, and I jerked in surprise like I'd brushed against an electric fence (jeesh, I hate those things). ClanFintan glanced back at me in alarm, and I squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. No doubt he could feel the tension transmitted from my body into his.

Epona had not spoken to me for months, yet I recognized the Goddess's voice as surely as I would my own.

We entered the courtyard and ClanFintan came to a halt, turning so that we faced the pressing crowd. He glanced briefly over his shoulder at me, covering my hand that rested on his shoulder with his own.

Hastily I cleared my throat, trying to regain my scattered thoughts.

“Um, I…” The people silenced themselves as I looked out at the crowd, and for an instant it seemed that behind the joyously gathered group I saw something dark. Something that
lingered and watched and waited, but when I tried to look directly at it, disappeared. I cleared my throat and mentally shook myself. “I…um…I mean…” My gaze flitted around until it found Alanna. Her arms were wrapped intimately around her husband, but her eyes were on me. A frown hovered on her lips as her confusion at my uncharacteristic hesitance registered.

I started again.

“We would like to invite you to join us, all of Epona's servants and their families, for a feast to welcome home our brave warriors.” The strength of my voice grew as I spoke. “Please share with us the joy of their return with food and wine!”

The crowd cheered, milling expectantly, eager to follow us to the Great Hall. At the same time, ClanFintan twisted around, pulling me down from his back and setting me gently on the ground beside him. We moved forward through the entrance side by side, his arm resting protectively around my shoulder, his gait slowing to match my much shorter steps.

“Are you well, Rhea?” he asked softly.

“Yes, I'm fine.” I tried to smile up at him, but a new wave of nausea left me feeling clammy and weak.

The warriors who guarded the huge intricately carved doors saluted as I approached. In a move that made them look like muscular shadows of one another, they pulled the doors open and the smells and sights from the Great Hall escaped, spilling over us in a welcome of the senses.

ClanFintan led me to our familiar chaises, which to me always evoked the image and opulence of ancient Rome. He folded himself down into one after bowing me toward my own. As was customary, we reclined for our meals as did the ancient Romans (minus the stuffing puking stuffing puking part). The heads of our chaises were almost
touching, and a narrow pedestaled table rested within arm's reach. I smiled at him, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the intense way he was studying me. Then the hall quieted and I cleared my throat before I began the blessing. Taking a deep breath, I felt myself relax. Not only was I used to public speaking/teaching/scolding/whatever, I enjoyed it.

“We thank you, Epona, for the safe return of our brave warriors.” I noted a murmur of agreement rustling through the crowd. I closed my eyes and tilted my chin back, raising my arms over my head as if I was focusing my blessing upward and within at the same time. I continued. “I have only to close my eyes and in memory I see the hardships we have overcome this past season.” I had learned early on that in Partholon time wasn't measured by months, it was measured by seasons and the changing moon. “But our Goddess was near us then, as always. We can hear Her voice in the sounding of the rain, and the trilling of the birds. It is in the rhythm of the moon, the brush of the breeze, the sweet, living scent of the earth. We are reminded by the changing of the seasons that blessings are not to be had singly. Instead, they come to us in a mixture, and sometimes must be discovered as sifting gems from sand. Tonight we are thankful for our gems.” The walls of the Great Hall echoed my closing words, “Hail Epona!”

I opened my eyes and smiled at my wonderful audience before I sank gratefully into my chaise.

“Please bring me some herbal tea, and take away this wine,” I whispered to an attentive servant. She gave me a confused look, and who could blame her? I was definitely acting out of character, but she complied without question.

“What is wrong, Rhea?” Although he kept his voice low, ClanFintan's worry was obvious enough to cause several of the people and centaurs in chaises near us (which included
Alanna and her doctor husband) to send me concerned, questioning looks.

“Oh—” I tried to make my voice sound light “—I've had some kind of stomach upset that doesn't want to go away.” I met my husband's steady gaze with my usual slightly sarcastic grin. “It's almost as stubborn as I've been known to be.”

Several of our eavesdroppers chuckled. I noticed that Alanna, Carolan and ClanFintan did not join them.

“You look pale…” He hesitated, studying me again. “And thin.”

“Well, you can never be too rich or too thin,” I quipped.

“Humph,” he snorted through his nose, making a sound that was very horselike.

“Alanna,” I called, “I thought some of the maidens were going to play music during the feast.”

“Yes, Rhea.” Her smile was tinged with concern, like she thought I was hovering at the edge of a nervous breakdown. “They await your signal, as always.” She pointed to a raised platform in the corner of the hall where six young women sat with various instruments resting against their silken-clad laps. They were all looking expectantly in my direction.

“Oh,” I said, feeling doltish. What in the hell was wrong with me? Brain tumor. Had to be. I raised my hands and clapped twice. Immediately the hall was filled with the opening notes of a single harp. When the others joined in, I was enthralled anew with the music, which seemed to me an intoxicating mixture of Gaelic melody and Partholonian magic. Unexpectedly, I felt my eyes tear up at the lilting sadness of the song, and I had to fight the urge to curl up for a good cry.

Okay—something was REALLY wrong.

I'm not a crier. I mean it. Weak women who dissolve into tears make my ass hurt.

The clattering of plates brought my fragmented attention back to the table. Something chicken-like and dripping with a buttery garlic sauce was being placed before me. As the smell wafted over me, I had to press my lips together and swallow hard.

I grabbed the arm of a startled servant. “Take this away and bring me…” I spoke through clenched teeth as I struggled to think of something that sounded like it might be palatable. Remembering the BRAT rule (upset stomach = Banana, Rice, Applesauce, Toast) from my college stint as a hospital unit secretary, I brightened and released my viselike grip. “Rice! Bring me some plain white rice.”

She blinked in surprise. “Just rice, my Lady?”

“Uh, and some warm bread,” I added with an attempt at a smile.

“Yes, my Lady.”

She hurried off and I looked up to meet my husband's worried gaze. Before he could begin the interrogation, I began chirping questions, merrily attempting to change the subject.

“So, fill me in—I want to hear everything.” I sipped my herbal tea, willing my stomach to stay still. “Are the people all settled into Guardian and Laragon Castles? Did you have any luck tracking the Fomorian survivors?”

“Rhea, I sent weekly reports keeping you apprised of our actions.”

“I know, love, but they were just the bare facts. I want to hear the
details.”
I smiled my thanks to the servant who deposited a plate of warm white rice before me.

“As you wish,” He took a deep breath and, through bites of his nauseatingly delicious-looking food, he began a summary of the past months. “Because the work crews had already cleaned and repaired both castles, settling the new inhabitants was actually simply accomplished…”

While ClanFintan talked, I kept an attentive look on my face as I gingerly forced small spoonfuls of rice into my resisting mouth, sipping tea between chews.