Defiance (The Priestess Trilogy) (28 page)

She
shook her head
. “I
wo
uld rather be alone,
”
she said softly.

Odhrán was silent a moment, then asked, “Does my presence still frighten you?”

Shiovra
turned to face him. He had asked an honest question, so she would give him an honest answer. “At times
, aye
.”

“It seems I will have t
o work harder on remedying that,” replied the Milidh man in a gentle tone.

Meeting his gaze firmly,
she asked
quietly, “
May I ask something of you?”

Odhrán merely looked at her in question.

“You say it is your duty to protect me
, that you want to show me that not all Milidh are alike
,”
she began, “though some of your actions could be considered
contradictory to those words.
Prove to me that trusting you will not eventually cost me my life. Prove to me that you can be not only a protector but a
companion
as well.” Turning away from the man, she paused in the doorway. “
Please keep
my
words in mind.”

When she heard no
further
protest,
Shiovra
stepped from the cottage
into the slightly cool night air.
The village was dark and quiet, save for the soothing chirps from crickets.
She had not gone far when s
he found Eiladyr sitting on the ground beside one of the hidden door
s, head nodding forward slightly as the man fought sleep.

Shiovra
walked over to Eiladyr and crouched down before him. In his state of half-sleep, he had not noticed her approach.
Reaching a hand up, she poked him on the forehead and called out softly, “Eiladyr.”

Snorting, the man’s head shot up suddenly and he looked at her.
“
Shiovra
? You should be sleeping…”

A smile crossed her lips. “
And
should
you
not be awake if you are keeping guard?”
she countered.

“Aye,”
Ei
ladyr chuckled lightly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Over their heads,
th
e urgent call of a bird sounded.

Tensing,
Shiovra
glanced at Eiladyr.

Lurching to his feet, Eiladyr
brought a finger to his lips and began climbing the wall.

Shiovra
straightened slowly, watching as the man effortlessly climbed the wall. In the dim moonlight, she saw another man at the top of the wall. They spoke together in hushed voices while the other man gestured
.

After a moment, Eiladyr climbed back down the wall.

“What is it?” the priestess asked anxiously
as he began walking swiftly towards the cottage they had been sharing
.

“
There is a Milidh scout following the wall,
though from his movements
he appears to be hunting,”
Eiladyr told her quic
kly as he ducked through the door
. “Meara and Daire
shadow him
.”

Shiovra
stepped in behind him to find Odhrán already securing his sword and daggers around his waist.

“Where are Daire and Meara?”
Odhrán asked without looking at them.

“Southeast side of the wall, slowly moving north,” replied Eiladyr
, grabbing an unlit torch and thrusting it into the low burning fire
.

The Milidh man nodded. “
Get the archers ready, and wait for my signal,”
he told him as he stalked from the cottage.

Eiladyr pulled the burning torch from the fire and grinned broadly at
Shiovra
.
“
Let’
s go,
”
he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her through the village.

Kieran waited at the gates with four other men with bows.
Dipping strips of cloth in oil, t
hey
wrapped it
around the shafts of their arrows just behind the head.

“Odhrán is moving into position,” Eiladyr told Kieran in a low voice.

Nodding, the Neimidh man gestured to the archers and they lined up, facing the wall. Knocking
the arrows ready,
they aimed
up towards the sky
and waited
.

The call of a b
ird drifted across the wind.

Eiladyr brought the torch up
in front of himself.

Shiovra
could feel a gathering of energies while anticipation
weighed heavily in the air.

Another bird call sounded.

Taking a breath, Eiladyr slowly released it and the fire stretched out from the torch,
licking at the arrows and setting the soaked cloth ablaze.

Shiovra
held her breath as the
arrow
s were knocked loose.
She
watched as
the flicking light soared up to disappear into the night filled trees. Due to the angle and the arch, she
knew the arrows would come down straight on top of the enemy camp. Coupled with the darkness of night and cover of the trees, it would be difficult for the Milidh warriors to determine where the arrows had come from.

After a moment of silence, a din arose from the other side of the wall, quickly followed by the crackling and dim glow of fire.
The low note of a battle horn sounded urgently, calling all scouts back to camp.
Shiovra
could only hope their efforts would not eventually be their downfall.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

After sounding his signal, Odhrán slipped out the side door and
silently wove his way
through the trees.
Taking careful steps, he made little noise that would announce his presence.
Dim light from burning tents cast shadows that shifted and twisted
, though they did little to impede
his search of Daire,
Meara
, and Ainnle
.
Odhrán
approached them from behind as the chaos consuming the enemy camp brought a moment of pause to their step.

Meara was the first to notice his presence, spinning quickly on her heels and thrusting her spear at the Milidh man.

Odhrán dodged her attack easily, slipping to the side and swiftly bringing his sword up to knoc
k the shaft of her spear aside while aiming a dagger at Daire’s throat.
“Careful,”
he warned in a low voice.

The wo
man lowered
her spear
, exhaling in relief
.

Odhrán cast a sidelong glance at Daire, who reluctantly returned his sword to its sheath.
“There is no time to waste,”
he
told
them
. Looking once more at the enemy camp, he noted that already one fire had been extinguished.
“
The Milidh warriors will not remain occupied for long.”
Turning, Odhrán gestured for them to follow.

The light from the fires were enough to make them noticeable even in the darkness of the woods.
Odhrán knew they would need to be as quick as they were cautious. The more fire brought under control would be more warriors sent out to seek where the attack had come from.

Approaching the wall of bramble
and vines, the Milidh man
slipped a hand in. Running his fingers along the wall, he found the door and pushed roughly.
Odhrán urged them into the village before stepping through himself and securing the door with a wooden bar. Though he was sure they had not been seen, he w
as not going to take any chances. Turning, h
e began making his way towards the front of the village.

“
What is going on?” asked Daire, rushing to keep up with him, Meara and Ainnle following.

“Exactly what it looks like,” Odhrán replied shortly. “
There is a band of Milidh warriors camped outside the village.

“How long have they been here?” came Meara’s question from behind.

“A week now. We have done what we can to lure them away when they show too much interest on the wall,” explained Odhrán.
“I am sure there will be little sleep tonight on either side after our attack on their camp. Be prepared for anything.”

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

A week passed after the attack on the camp and the Milidh continued to linger, their patrols through the woods increasing greatly. The villagers had grown accustomed to life impr
isoned within their own village. There was no more laughter and not even the barest of smiles. Ráth Faolchú had become a village of broken freedom.

Shiovra
did what she could for the villagers, but as the days slipped by, she found that she too, could not bring herself to smile.
Sitting
do
wn on a log beside a small early morning fire, she rubbed her arms
to keep warm.

Morning light had only begun to tinge the sky, slowly breathing color into the dull gray.
A
heavy fog clung to the ground and the air carried a notable chill as the days had begun to grow colder
. Such was expected with the
steady approach of Lughnasadh, a
harvest festival named after Lugh, kin to both Túath and Fomorii tribes. It marked the beginning of the harvest season and a time of many marriages.
The end of the year was steadily approaching.

Shiovra
started as a cloak settled down abruptly over
her shoulders. Glancing over her shoulder, she found Odhrán stood behind her.

“May I join you?” he asked
.

Shiovra
nodded quietly
and turned back to watching the fire, pulling the cloak tighter about her.

Odhrán sat down beside her, leaving a respectable distance between them.
He was quiet for a while, leaving a heavy, uncomfortable silence in the air.

She
glanced at him from the corner of her eye before turning her attention back to the fire
.

The Milidh man leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “
My actions may indeed contradict my words at times
,”
began
Odhrán
, breaking the silence, “but I have a duty to the chieftains of Dún Fiáin and Tara that I shall not fail upon.
I do what I believe to be necessary, even if it means being callous or threatening.
Trusting me will not cost you your life, but
it
just may
save
it more than you realize.”

Shiovra
said nothing,
keeping her eyes on the fire.

“
Thou
gh you may not see it
yet,
I do consider you a companion,” Odhrán continued. “I will not force you to trust me, I am the
enemy
after
all, but I will do what I can to prove my words.”

“The enemy of my enemy is my ally,” murmured the woman, her hand tightening on the cloak as a sudden breeze rustled past her.

“Perhaps.”

Shiovra
looked at the man, but he did not look at her, his eyes scanning the village. There was an air of truthfulness in what he said, but even the deadliest of enemies could whisper honeyed words. Before she could say more, the low call of a morning bird sounded before repeating urgently.

Shiovra
watched as Odhrán
stood
quickly, his hand
twitching on the hilt of his sword. Frowning, she rose to her feet and followed his gaze. Several village men rushed to the main gates, climbing the wall. Turning back to Odhrán, she found the Milidh man was already making his way to them. Without any hesitation, she followed.
As she neared the gates, she could hear the growing clamor from the other side.

Eiladyr rushed up to Odhrán.
“
There is something going on in the Milidh camp,” he said in a hushed tone
, as he walked with the Milidh man to the wall
.

The priestess
could only watch in anticipation as the men climbed the wall to join Artis and spoke in hushed tones followed with rough gestures. Looking around her, she found that many of the villagers had also gathered, their faces reflecting great worry and fear.