Christina Phillips - [Forbidden 02]

Table of Contents

 

 

 

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This book is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

 

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PRINTING HISTORY

Heat trade paperback edition / February 2011

 

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

 

Phillips, Christina, (date)

Captive / Christina Phillips.—Heat trade paperback ed. p. cm.

eISBN : 978-1-101-47850-9

1. Druids and Druidism—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3616.H45455C37 2011
813’.6—dc22

2010036295

 

 

Huge thanks once again to my awesome critique partners Sara Hantz and Amanda Ashby—aka, for some obscure reason, the Tiara Mafia—for cracking the whip and dangling chocolate at appropriate moments. Between you and my faithful Chap Stick, I made it through.

To my wonderful agent, Emmanuelle Morgen, who wanted to know Morwyn’s story and encouraged me every step of the way—thank you! I’m thrilled you love Bren as much as I do.

Thank you to my amazing editor, Kate Seaver, for your advice and the brainstorming sessions, to Katherine Pelz for all your help, and to Elizabeth Tobin and the Berkley marketing team for all your support.

To the incredible Tony Mauro and the Berkley art department, thank you all so very much for creating such a fabulous cover!

To Nige Redwood, Cath Baughen and Peggy Phillips—thank you for always being there when I needed you.

And to Mark, Victoria, Charlotte and Oliver—thanks for all the late-night takeaways and lattes!

In AD 50, seven years after invading Britain, the Romans advance into Cymru, the western peninsula, to mine her rich mineral deposits of gold, copper and lead.

The local tribes do not take kindly to this invasion.

Led by their priestly class, the Druids, the people of Cymru rebel against the might of the Eagle.

The Roman Emperor, Claudius, perceives Druids as a dangerous menace to the expansion of the Empire.

Resistance will not be tolerated.

He orders their extermination.

The Druids flee to their sacred Isle of Mon to gather their strength to fight anew. But in the summer of AD 51, Morwyn, a Druid priestess, leaves the Isle to join the rebels in Cymru.

Bren, a Gaul auxiliary stationed in Cymru, has spent the last three years undercover in the Roman Legions. His loyalty to his Briton king is absolute. But his time is running out . . .

The forest was quiet. Too quiet. Her horse shifted in clear unease and Morwyn glanced at her three companions.

“What do you see?” Einion’s voice was hushed.

Morwyn clamped her teeth together to prevent the harsh response from tumbling into the unnatural silence. What did she see? Did they think her a seer, a tool of their cursed goddess, the Morrigan?

She half expected an unearthly fire to consume her for her treacherous thoughts, but none did. She loosened her grip on the reins and took a deep breath.

Her companions believed in her powers. It was the reason they’d left the Isle of Mon and ventured with her back into the occupied territories of their beloved Cymru.

If she was successful in her quest to discover the heart of the rebellion, they would return to the Druid sanctuary and tell the others. She wasn’t the only one who longed to fight for freedom rather than hide in sacred groves dedicated to cowardly gods. And then a great army of Druids would join the displaced Briton king Caratacus, who was causing such disruption to the despised Roman Legions.

“Caratacus is close.” She knew that, and it had nothing to do with visions from the gods. She no longer had visions. No matter what her fellow Druids might think. Her knowledge was based on information gleaned from those who had arrived on Mon over the last few moons, and her resolve to join the insurgents had strengthened when Gawain left the Isle to stand by the Catuvellauni king, Caratacus.

A sharp pain sliced through her breast, raw and savage, jagged with guilt, as she recalled Gawain. The man who had loved her. The man she had tried so hard to love in return, but never had.

Because her heart had belonged to another.

Her grip tightened on the reins. She would avenge Gawain’s death with the last breath in her lungs, the last drop of blood in her veins. He had loved her, and he deserved nothing less from her.

She would never succumb as a slave of Rome. She’d rather a glorious death in the midst of battle, securing the freedom of her people.

“How close?” Drustan, another young Druid and, like both Einion and Morcant, not yet fully trained, glanced around the edge of the glade as if expecting the Briton to miraculously appear before them.

They expected her to proclaim a sign. She was the most senior Druid here, and yet even she hadn’t finished her training before the bloodied invasion had devastated their existence. But no older Druid from Mon had wanted to take the chance of returning to Cymru without solid, irrefutable proof of where, precisely, the Briton king commanded his rebels.

No light summer breeze rustled the leaves on the looming trees. The air hung heavy and still as if waiting for the wheel of life to turn, to irrevocably alter her course forever.

An eerie shiver inched along her spine and chills scuttled over her arms, raising the fine hairs. Instinctively she curled her fingers around the jewel-encrusted dagger secured at her waist. She no longer believed in her gods and no longer received their signs, and the only thing that was about to change was that Rome would discover her mistake in enslaving Cymru.