Defiance (The Priestess Trilogy) (20 page)

He thought a moment and then leaned forward, grinning. “Allow me to help, then you won’t have to go to Dún Fiáin,” Eiladyr said. “The
place
I call home is a village of warriors a
nd hunters, many of which Neimidh, who are already allies with the Túath.
We
can send aid to Tara, a
ll we would need to do is get free of Ca
her Dearg
.”

The priestess regarded him silently a moment. Though he offered aid, she was not so easy
to trust him
. “You are very generous
even
when neither of us knows the others true intentions. May I ask why?”

Eiladyr moved closer to her, not breaking eye contact once. “
Is it not the guardian’s
duty to protect his priestess?” he asked, catching her hand within his own and bringing it to his lips.

His lips, much like his fingers, were like licks of fire against her skin.
Shiovra
understood the meaning behind his words
. “By the fire,” she breathed. “
Hail to the chosen warrior of the south, by the power of air, I greet thee.”

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Three days had passed since her capture and imprisonment at Caher Dearg. On the fourth day,
Cúmhéa came for
Shiovra
,
pulled from the souterrain
. Eiladyr made a
futile attempt
to overpower the huntsman and escape with the priestess, only to be
stopped by Cúmhéa’s fist his
temple
.
Eiladyr’s
shouts
,
and what
Shiovra
believed to be cursing in his native language
,
reached
her ea
rs
as she was
coerced
roughly
away.

Cúmhéa forced
the priestess
into a dark cottage, the door slammed shut behind her. There was no sound of the door being blocked
in any way
, but
Shiovra
did not doubt that Cúmhéa himself sat guard on the other side.

“I trust there were not any difficulties bringing you here,” came a voice.

Shiovra
turned quickly at the voice
.

A woman in her mid thirties stepped from the shadows. Her long, bright red-auburn hair fell in a braid w
ell past her waist. H
er cold green eyes
narrowed on
Shiovra
while a
smile touche
d her pale lips. Her skin was incredibly pale above the embellished deep green shift adorning
her slender body. She bor
e a blue spiral by her left eye.

Shiovra
had only met the woman once in her childhood, but the feeling she had gotten from her was enough to tell her she was not to be trusted. And now, several years later, the priestess
was once more
over
come
with
the same
fearful feeling.
Shiovra
took a step back away from the youngest of Méav’s daughters
. “
Gráinne
,” she breathed.

The woman smiled. “
My dear sister’s little chit
,
Shiovra
,” she purred, stalking towards
Shiovra
. She circled
Shiovra
, looking her up and down. “It has been many years…my how you have grown. Tis a pity you look nothing like Tríonna…”

Shiovra
stood still watching
Gráinne
’s every move warily.

Gráinne
suddenly stopped before the priestess, her face slipping into an unreadable mask
. “Tell me…” she
drawled,
h
er voice hinting malevolence, “
do you know what great power Ailill would give me for your
capture
?”

The woman’s words, spoken so smoothly, sent a chill through
Shiovra
’s body. She hastily took a step back, only to have
Gráinne
take one forward
.

“Tell me…”
Gráinne
repeated, tone
sickeningly sweet. “
Can you grasp the wealth he can offer me from bringing you to him
?”

Shiovra
took another step back.

“Tell me,
Shiovra
,”
Gráinne
demanded in a firm voice
.

“His promises are as false as Méav’s!”
Shiovra
scoffed. “Do you think he will truly grant you power when
Méav took all that he had?”

“Lies!” shrieked
Gráinne
.

Shiovra
hardly had time to bring
her arms up in defense
as
Gráinne
suddenly pulled
a dagger
from her belt
. The priestess fell back, but not
quickly
enough. The woman had s
truck
at her, the blade glancing across
Shiovra
’s right hand,
drawing blood.

“
You speak lies
!” hissed
Gráinne
. “
Ailill can offer me all the power I need to be stronger than Réalta
!
And then I can bring a glory to Tara that it has never seen!
”

Shiovra
could
see anger and complete madness swimming wildly in the woman’s eyes
.
“Ailill seeks to
destroy
Tara!”

“
Perhaps, but if I bring you to him, he will no long seek such destruction,”
Gráinne
insisted
.
“He seeks retribution for the wrongs mother brought upon him. And you…you not only carry her blood, but also her title. Your life will appease him and Tara shall be left in
my
hands.”
She held the bloodied dagger before her, looking at it in wonder.

The priestess staggered back, holding
her wounded hand
.
“I pity you…”
Shiovra
breathed, shaking her head.

“
Pity me?
!”
Gráinne
spat. She
advanced a step, smirking
. “
We shall see who the one is that should be pitied!”
Gráinne
raised the dagger again, charging at
Shiovra
.

Spinning
away,
Shiovra
barely dodged
the attack as the blade
caught
the back of her garments,
cutting through the material and missing her flesh by a breath
.
Stumbling over her own feet,
Shiovra
fell back against the cottage door, only to have it open behind. Crying out in surprise, the priestess nearly fell to the ground.

Looking around hastily, she found Cúmhéa rising to his feet from the bench he sat upon, his hand reaching for his sword. His hand was stayed, though, as
Gráinne
walked slowly from the cottage.

Glancing between to the
two
,
Shiovra
made a rash decision and began running.
She knew there was no escape from the ringfort
with Méav’s huntsmen abou
t.
What
she needed
was a place
to hide from
Gráinne
.
Running around the main cottage, she barely dodged the notice of two men standing guard.

Shoving open the door of a
small cottage near the one she had been imprisoned in, s
he rushed in and slammed it shut.
Shiovra
looked around hastily
for anything that could be used as a weapon or to bar the door with
.

The cottage was nearly empty and
horribly
dark.
In the dim light drifting through cracks in the wicker door, the priestess could only see a feeble table standing off to the left. With a grunt,
Shiovra
pu
shed against
the door.
It would not hold out long, but it was all she could do.

Moving to the far end of the cottage, she leaned
against a wall
in the dark.
Her entire body trembled with fear and exhaustion
and she found herself sagging to the ground
. Drawing her knees up to her chest, she buried her face in h
er hands. With all the power under her control, she had not been strong enough to defend herself.

For a while,
Shiovra
sat in silence
with no hint that
Gráinne
had continued to pursue her
.
Yet she would not let her guard down so easily. Forcing her breathing to calm, she began to gather the energies surround her.

Her focus
was a sudden
ly interrupted by a
loud thu
d on the door
.

The priestess flinched.

“
Shiovra
!” called
Gráinne
’s voice from the other side of the door
. “Open the door,
sweetling
! I know you hide in there!”

Shiovra
rose unsteadily to her feet
but did not move from her place
as
Gráinne
assaulted
the
door
. Clenching her hand, she winced in pain from her wound. Blood streamed down her hand from the injury, leaving a crimson trail down her arm
and staining her garments. Closing her eyes,
Shiovra
tried to gather her focus once more
.
With what energy she could muster, she began to create a protective circle around her should her barricade fail.

51

5.
     
RESISTANCE

Daire
and Odhrán came to the far side of the forest, looking at
Méav
’s domain. For days they had carefully considered the ringfort
’
s strengths and weaknesses, how many lackeys followed
Méav
and when
huntsmen
at th
e gates changed posts. All that remained was to wait
for the coming of sunset
.

As
nightfall approached, an
eerie fog had settled over
Caher Dearg. Thunder rumbled deeply
through the air
and a dour,
tense quietness settled around them. The ground hummed beneath their feet
as
an abrupt flash of violet lightning clawed mercilessly across the sky
above the village
.

The time to act was drawing near.

Daire
turned away, face stolid as he pulled his cloak tighter about himself. Cursing, he kicked a rock in his anger.
Something felt
off
and he did not like it one bit. Glancing at Odhrán as he sat crouching behind some brush, he realized the man felt it as well.

Odhrán
turned away from the village, looking at him. “This is going to be dangerous
,” he
said in a low voice
.
“The need for haste is essential.”

“
Are you certain we will be able to find her quickly enough?” asked
Daire
. Apprehension gripped him tightly and he couldn’t shake the feeling that their rescue plan would only lead to their capture. They were sorely outnumbered and the odds of success were slim, but he agreed with the Milidh man that it was a necessary risk.

“There is no certainty, only the
need
to,” replied Odhrán quietly.

Over the warm breeze came
voices from behind
.

B
oth men
became suddenly still
.

Daire
turned towards the direction of the voices, searching the growing darkness
.
For a moment he saw nothing,
and then
the shadowed
form of figures approached.

Daire
’s hand flew to his bow
. “Were we spotted?” he breathed to Odhrán
, wrapping his hands around the smooth wood of his bow. Bringing it up slowly, he knocked and an arrow ready.

The
voices stopped, but the sound of footsteps approaching did not
.

Daire
waited, ready to attack at a moment’s notice
.

As they approached close enough for the light of the setting sun to fall upon them, they came to a sudden halt.

“
Daire
?” came
Meara
’s voice softly.

Relief washed over
Daire
and he released his breath roughly. Rising to his feet, he walked towards the small group.
Never before had he been so overjoyed to see the Neimidh woman.

Meara
, on the other hand, did not appear quite as pleased as he
. Behind her stood the small band of
warriors she
held command over. “What a fine mess you ha
ve gotten yourself in,” she chided harshly
, arms crossed. “You declined my offer to escort you to Dún Fiáin and now look what has happened
!
The Lady
Shiovra
has been taken! You should be lucky that I chose to follow you. N
ext time, do not be so callous to brush off my offer!”

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Méav
found
Gráinne
attacking a cottage door
in frenzy with
a
blood covered
dagger.
The woman’s hands were
also
stained with the very same blood
.
Méav
’s eyes narrowed on
Gráinne
as she realized just who had incited the woman’s anger. Hastening to her daughter’s side, the seized her by the wrists and restrained her.

“What are you doing,
Gráinne
?!” hissed
Méav
, pulling her daughter away. “What have you
done
? We need her alive, y
ou foolish child!” She
wrenched
the dagger from
Gráinne
’s hands and cast it aside
violently
.

Gráinne
spun to face Méav, face livid. “No, her death is the only way! Ailill promised…”

“Foolish wench of a daughter!”
Méav
reprimanded, striking
Gráinne
hard
across the face. “
Have you cast your lot with that sniveling man?
His promises are nothing
!
What did he offer you? Power? Wealth? It matters not what he promises, if you hand
Shiovra
to him or kill her, it will only be another blow to us! He allies with the Milidh!
”

Gráinne
took a staggering step back, brining a hand up to her cheek. She opened her mouth to speak, but was stayed by the low note of a battle horn.

Méav
gestured to the main cottage
. “
You, get inside and stay put
,” she ordered.

Gráinne
did not protest, obeying.

Méav spun to face a huntsman who approached “
Guard the priestess so she does not try and flee,
”
she told the man. Bending, Méav
grabbed the dagger
, clenching it tightly in her hand
. “I have
other
matters to attend to…”

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Odhrán made his way
swiftly
through the chaos that
unfolded within
Caher
Dearg
. With the help of
Meara
and her men, Odhrán and
Daire
had infiltrated the ringfort with little difficulties.
W
hile
Méav
’s huntsmen
were busy attending to the threat
brought on by
Meara
, the two men began their search
.

As he ran past a small cottage,
Odhrán came to a pause
.
A trail of blood dotted the ground, leading to a
wicker-work door
that had been severely damaged
.
Pushing the door open cautiously, he found
Shiovra
crumpled on the floor at the far end of the cottage. The trail of blood led straight to her, adorning her right hand and clothing
.

Odhrán’s eyes shifted to the
huntsman who had yet to notice his presence. Moving quietly, he reached
inside his
tunic and pulled out a light dagger
. Ta
king aim, he hurled it at the man, striking him from behind
.

The huntsman let out a guttural cry before falling lifeless to the ground.

Odhrán
turned swiftly to
Shiovra
,
crouching down beside her and touching her hand
. “
Shiovra
,” he breathed
, worry in his voice
. “
Shiovra
!”

The priestess stirred slightly, moaning. S
he opened her eyes and blinked
, then frowned as she took notice of him. “Odhrán…?” she asked uncertainly,
and then sat up hastily
.
“
Gráinne
!”
Shiovra
looked around in panic before her eyes fell on the unmoving body of the huntsman.

“We need to get you out of here,” urged Odhrán, pulling
off his outer tunic and
handing
it to her.

Shiovra
nodded
, slipping it over her tattered garments.

Odhrán grab
bed her hand helped her to her feet
.
Giving a quick look at her wounded hand, he cursed the lack of time to properly clean and bind it. Escape from Caher Dearg was of the utmost importance, wounds could be tended to later once they were safely away.

“
Where is
Daire
?” she asked through breaths
as he led her towards the front of the village
.

Odhrán made no reply.

“Where is
my cousin?”
Shiovra
asked more frantically.

“He is about.”

The priestess did not question him further.

Guiding
her towards the main gates,
Odhrán easily slipped
through the fray that shifted around them.
Glancing at the priestess, he found her searching faces as they ran past them.
The main gates were in sight, but they were not free yet.

Cúmhéa stood
waiting with his
blade drawn and a wicked grin upon his lips.

Odhrán
slowed his pace, releasing
Shiovra
’s hand
.
Placing himself between the priestess and Cúmhéa, he said calmly, “Let me deal with this hound. You have been through enough.”

Shiovra
nodded silently, clutching her wounded hand to her chest.

The Milidh man walked slowly towards Cúmhéa. He did not draw his weapons; he would not need them.

Cúmhéa paid Odhrán little heed, his eyes focused solely on the priestess. “You…” he drawled
, pointing his blade directly at
Shiovra
.
He stalked slowly towards her.
“Where do you think you are going, wench?” he growled. “You are mine, wench. You
will
be mine!”

“Never,”
Shiovra
told him
bitterly.

Odhrán
advanced upon the man. “I will not allow you to lay your filthy hands on the priestess. Stand down!”

Cúmhéa
only laughed cruelly. “It seems you need to be taught that the Hound of Mide is not to be trifled with!” he shouted, charging
at Odhrán.

A smirk crossed
Odhrán
’s lips. He had expected such a response.
Waiting a moment he then slipped to the side, dodging the attack with ease. In a swift movement, he
swung his foot up, striking Cúm
héa in the chest and sending the man stumbling
back a few paces.

“Damn you, Milidh cur!” swore
Cúmhéa
, regaining his footing.  His breathing had become labored with the force of the assault. Raising his blade once more, he carelessly rushed in.

“Tch.”
Odhrán made to dodge once more but, Cúmhéa
had caught onto his ruse and
adjusted his attack quickly. The blade sliced across Odhrán’s side
, cutting through his tunic and breaking
the skin.
Odhrán did not let the wound stop him
. Moving
quickly
, he spun and brought his fist up, striking Cúmhéa
hard
in the face.
Without pause
, he shifted into
a defensive position and prepared for
another attack.

Cúmhéa staggered for a moment, disoriented
.
With a groan, he toppled to the ground.

The Milidh man stood waiting, partially expecting the huntsman to shake off the blow and rise for the attack once more.
Odhrán knew he should finish the man off, but the priestess had been through enough already without him killing the man before her eyes.

“Odhrán…”

Shiovra
’s voice drew his attention. Odhrán
turned to her, catching her hand within his own again. “Come. We
need to leave,
”
he
told her
calmly.
Glancing down at the
man one last time, he pulled
Shiovra
from the ring
-
fort and through a throng of huntsmen preoccupied with battle. Over the din he heard
Meara
call
for
her men to retreat.