Defiance (The Priestess Trilogy) (25 page)

“
Lady
Shiovra
is right
,”
Meara
said. “
Ailill has struck a bargain with the Milidh clan, though I doubt either will hold true to their words. There is no denying that the sons of Míl still seethe over what was done to their kinsman Ith. They also realize that Túath priestesses hold sway over a power they will never comprehend. As for Ailill, he knows that without a High Priestess, he has no true power. By casting his lot with the Milidh, he gains promise of that power and they have one less priestess to pose a threat. The problem lies in that they both aim for the capture of Tara.”

“
Why?
” muttered Eiladyr
.

“To control Tara is to control Éire,”
Shiovra
told him, then thought a moment. “How much do you understand about the clans of Túath and Milidh?”

“
V
ery little,” admitted Eilad
yr,
scratching his head.
“Though feuds between clans are not uncommon where I com
e from.”

Shiovra
sat down at t
he table. G
lanc
ing
at Odhrán
, she hesitated
as she found him watching her
.
Her
voice was low when she spoke
, “Ten winters ago a man called
Ith came to Éire when I
was but a child of eight. He claimed to have
seen Éire from his homeland and, enthralled wi
th her beauty, came here. He met our High C
hieftains:
Mac Cuill, Mac Cecht, and Mac Gréine, grandson
s of the
great father, the
Dagda
. They greeted him kindly
yet,
when Ith praised Éire
so
highly, they became afraid
his praise would turn into desire…” She stopped short, unable to continue under the intensity of Odhrán’s gaze.

Daire
leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “
Ith
was slain by the High Chieftains and his c
ompanions were forced to return whence they came with his body
,” he continued for the priestess, voice hard. “
T
wo moons
after
,
Míl, kinsman of Ith,
came
with warriors and families, his intentions no secret
. On Beltaine eve,
Tara
fell under attack
by Milidh warriors
. It was meant to be a warning,
with only a few deaths and mostly injuries.”

“My
mother was killed
by Milidh hands that night
,”
Shiovra
added quietly,
rubbing her wounded hand.
“
The High Chieftains met with
the sons of Míl and
eventually a truce was agreed upon.”

“T
hough
the Milidh seem to have a very lose grasp of what
peace
means
,” muttered
Daire
.

Odhrán
turned his attention to the man
. “
Not all Milidh are the same,” he said firmly.

“Then why do so many ally themselves with enemies of the Túath?” countered
Daire
, raising his voice.

“Perhaps the Túath would not have so many enemies if they did not kill out of
fear
,” Odhrán said in an even tone.

“
It was
of just cause!” shouted
Daire
, lurching to his feet. “Kill one man to protect many.”

A short laugh passed Odhrán’s lips. “The death of one man brought an entire war host. How is that protecting many?” he asked smoothly.

“Enough!” demanded
Shiovra
, standing. “While it is true that the High Chieftains should
have considered what repercussions might come by taking Ith’s life, the Milidh would have come regardless.”
She rubbed her face wearily. “All that matters now is protecting Tara.
I need to reach Dún Fiáin and speak with the chieftain so I can request aid.”

“And what if he wants you to wed his son before they help?” asked Daire angrily.

“Then I will,” replied
Shiovra
angrily
.
Though the thought of having to wed into an enemy clan terrified her, she would do what was necessary to protect her people.
She glanced at Odhrán and found the Milidh man was watching her once more.
Shiovra
held his gaze for a moment and then looked away. “Caher Dearg has fallen, though I doubt that will appease Ailill’s anger,” she continued in a calmer tone. “
We need to be prepared.”

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

A small feast was held outside
the main cottage to welcome the priestess and her companions to Ráth Faolchú
,
as well
to celebrate
the fall of Caher Dearg
. Nearly the entire village had gathered and Artis offered
Shiovra
a place at the main
table where she was joined by Odhrán and a freshly shaven Eiladyr.
The villagers jested
with each other, enjoying the food and mead while a bard sang along to the steady beat of a bodhrán.
And as the day slowly grew into evening, the tables and benches were moved aside so that the villagers could take to dancing in the flickering torchlight.

Shiovra
watched with a smile on her face, enjoying the festivities after everything they had recently been through
with the huntsmen and Caher Dearg
. When the
dance slowed, she rose from her seat and joined in. Focusing on the steady beat of the bodhrán,
she moved along with it. Her feet were light upon the ground with each step and spin she took. When the beat upon the bodhrán quickened pace, so did she.

The priestess smiled at the faces swirling around her,
but faltered
when she found Odhrán watching her intensely.
Pausing,
Shiovra
held the man’s gaze for a moment
before continuing her dance. She tried not to think of the man’s eyes upon her, but she could feel the
m lingering. With the end of the song, she hesitated before returning to the head table, Odhrán’s eyes following her every step. Though he had asked for a chance to prove that not all the Milidh were the same,
Shiovra
found she felt anxious under her gaze.

“I believe that is the first I have seen you truly smile,” Odhrán said, bringing his cup to his lips and taking a drink. “You should do it more.”

Shiovra
flushed unconsciously.
And when the man said no more, she focused instead on the dwindling celebrations.

It was growing late in the evening and many of the villagers had begun to disperse, returning to their cottages for the night. Even the bard had retired, his songs no longer filling the air. They were left with the soft crackling of torch fire and the sweet song of
crickets.

“
Lady
Shiovra
,” called out a warm male voice
.

Looking up
, she saw a face she had not seen since her departure from Rúnda.
“Kieran…”

The Neimidh man smiled
warmly
as he approached the table. His gold-brown eyes looked weary in the flickering light and his curly
dark brown hair was
slightly disheveled.
Kieran appeared, for the most part, a little worse for the wear.

Shiovra
began to stand, but he
motioned for her to stay seated.
“Merry
Meet
.”

The man smiled. “Merry Meet Lady
Shiovra
,” he replied warmly
, then nodded to the two men flanking her,
“Odhrán, Eiladyr.”

“It has been a long time, Kieran of the Neimidh,” Odhrán said in turn.

“That it has,” he replied. “
I followed
Lady
Shiovra
when she departed Rúnda, but
unfortunately
I was delayed.
What brings you to Ráth Faolchú, Lady
Shiovra
?”

Shiovra
explained the events that had taken place at Tara that brought upon their journey, as well as the fall of Caher Dearg. When she had finished, she asked Kieran,
“
Did your journey bring you
near Caher Dearg?”

Kieran
nodded once more
.
“The lack of huntsmen brought me concern,” he told her. “I had not expected to find Caher Dearg lying in ruin. I looked for traces of survivors and found none within the village or the immediate outskirts.”

“
And Méav?” questioned
Shiovra
quietly.

The Neimidh man shook his head. “There was no
sign of the woman,
”
answered Kieran, “though I found tracks from huntsmen. Not many of them, but some tracks do circle Ráth Faolchú.”

Eiladyr swore under his breath.

“
Regardless, Ainmire needs informed about Caher Dearg’s fall as well Gráinne allying herself with Ailill,” Daire stated, coming to lean against the table.
“If I leave at dawn, and keep a steady pace, I could be back in a weeks’ time or so.”

“You will not go that far alone,”
Meara told him
. “Ainnle and I shall join
you;
the rest of my men can
take care of
any huntsmen who tread too closely to Ráth Faolchú
.”

Shiovra
was silent a moment
before standing and announcing, “I will continue my journey to Dún Fiáin and request aid be sent to Tara.”

“No,” came
Daire’s
blunt refusal.

Frowning, t
he priestess
turn
ed
t
o
her cousin
. “
The
purpose of this journey was to request aid from Dún Fiáin,”
she told him firmly.

Daire turned to face her. “Then have Odhrán go,” he argued, gesturing to the Milidh man.

Shiovra
narrowed her eyes on Daire. “I have told you this before, it must be me. I am the one promised to the chieftain’s son. I am the one who needs to ask for aid.”

“Then I am coming too…” he began.

Odhrán rose to his feet. “No, you shall go to Tara and inform Ainmire what has happened. There can be no further delay,” he said, meeting Daire’s furious gaze with his cold one. “Kieran and I shall escort the priestess to Dún Fiáin.”

Daire opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Kieran.

“Odhrán is right,” the Neimidh man
affirmed. “
It will take us two and a half days to get there.
The more you hesitate, the less time Tara has to prepare for possible attack. We cannot be certain that the village
will remain
safe simply because Caher Dearg has fallen. If Gráinne has truly lost her senses, she just might attack
on her own. She has the desire
and war host to do it.”

“
You trust Odhrán and that Milidh village so well?” countered Daire.

“I trust
Odhrán
,” replied Kieran calmly.

“Odhrán is an ally of thi
s Ráth Faolchú
,” Artis stated, approaching the table with a cup of mead in hand. “He has earned our trust tenfold. I do not doubt his ability to escort the Lady
Shiovra
to and from Dún Fiáin safely.”

Muttering under his breath, Daire made no further protest.

“It is decided then,” Odhrán said. “
Come morning, we depart.”

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Ceallach Neáll stood
alone in the cottage, facing the hearth fire and
watching as the flames climbed taller. The wood snapped and cracked as t
he fire grew
in intensity
, twisting in a wild dance
till it formed the somewhat transparent shape of a woman.

“The sea grows restless
, Ceallach
,” said the woman, her voice distant
and distorted
.
“I fear the Fomorii may be planning something.”

Ceallach
looked away, focusing on a tarnished dagger sitting upon a nearby table
. “There is no doubt that Ailill has allied himself with them,” he
stated
. “His Milidh allies
already
carry Fomorii weapons. It is quite possible that
the Fomorii may be gathering a war host to ad
d to his ranks, if they have not already.”