Cara's Twelve (17 page)

On the final eve of Samwain, Cara stood on the edge of the altar and grimaced in revulsion as Lord Eoghaan sliced through the jugular of a large white bull. As the blood drained from the deep incision, he caught the thick liquid in a gem encrusted goblet and drank deeply of its contents. It was an old custom and one that Cara hadn't realized was still observed in Meall. Cara shivered in horror as a priestess lifted the cup to her lips and ordered her to drink. She suppressed the urge to gag at the pungent smell, and when she managed to swallow, her stomach churned in protest.

Not even in Lydd had the ceremony been so lavishly commemorated. Sacred fires burned as far as the eye could see, and Cara thought in awe that it looked as if the stars had fallen from the heavens and landed on the rolling hills of Meall.

Earlier in the day, the holy women had stripped Cara of her clothes and with a horsehair brush, dipped in a mixture of cow's milk and bull's blood, and had painted sacred symbols across her breasts and abdomen. Her skin itched under her robes where the dried blood had tightened and flaked.

The priestesses of Meall were highly honored among their people, and they took great pride in honoring Annul. Much to Cara's relief, her own part of the ceremony was shadowed by the sacrifice of the white bull and the high priestess' augury. The hours dragged slowly, and only when the moon reached its apex, did the priestess turn to Cara and recite the ceremonial blessing.

The people of Meall broke out in a deafening cry of acclamation and the crowd parted to allow their great bull to cross the field towards the altar. Cara's breath caught in her throat as she watched Efy climb the steps towards her. He was naked from the waist up, and his thin well-toned muscles oiled and glistened in the fire's light. Around his waist he wore only a simple animal skin loincloth marked with the same symbols that had been painted on her body. A solid gold helmet with two large protruding horns crowned his head and marked his position as the great bull of Meall.

The effect made him appear almost intangible, as if he possessed an unworldly quality.

He was magnificent.

When his eyes caught her gaze, she saw that like her own, his mind was sober of wine and herbs. Gone was his usual carefree gaiety. His expression was controlled and focused, and when his gaze held hers, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

Around them, the priestess led the crowd in an incantation, and Efy held out his arm for her. Placing her forearm on his, she allowed him to lead her through the crowd and down the long path that led to the opening of the cave where they would spend the night. Torches flickered and licked at the blackened stone walls. Bread and cheese had been set out, along with a decanter of wine, and instead of a bed, animal pelts and skins had been positioned on the floor. Despite the warmth of the cave, Cara shivered.

Efy came to stand beside her.

He removed the golden helmet and ran a hand through his short cropped hair. His muscles tightened and contracted with every movement. She had never noticed how well defined he was.

Tilting his head, he quirked his lips and said playfully, “Does the goddess accept her bull?”

Cara laughed and relaxed. He was still Efy. Lighthearted and good-natured as always.

She had a choice to make, and he watched her expectantly.

Her thoughts went to Finn, who was still angry with her, and then to Tahdaon who had distanced himself since his rejection, but tonight wasn't about them. Tonight she was with Efy, and he had as much right to claim her as the others.

“Yes,” she said solemnly, and saw his brows lift in surprise. Taking a step towards him, she placed her palms on his chest. “I accept you.”

His dark brown eyes searched her face, and gone was the humor in his expression. “You're sure?”

She nodded, and to make her point, she unclasped the brooch that secured her robes, and let the material slide down her body and fall onto the stone floor.

Efy sucked his in breath sharply. Before she lost her nerve, Cara slid her hands up his chest, wrapped her arms around his neck and drew his mouth towards hers. His arms wrapped around her waist and drew her tight against his body. Through the thin material of the loincloth, Cara felt his body harden in response.

She took his hand and led him to the makeshift bed, and untied the leather straps that held his loincloth in place.

Both fully bared, she ran her hands down the length of his body, feeling every knot and muscle, as his own hands explored her soft rounded flesh.

Desire rippled through her as he kissed a trail down her neck towards her breast, and his mouth found her nipple. His tongue licked at the bud, and her knees weakened.

Feeling the sexual tension mount, he slowly drew her down on the soft fur blankets, and she positioned herself over him. Their eyes locked, as she took his cock in her hand, and lowered herself, until she had taken his entire length. They moaned simultaneously.

Gradually she began to move in a slow, almost lazy rhythm.

With skill that surprised her, he roused her to a point that she ached and cried out for her release.

Grabbing hold of his wrists and arched her back, drawing him deeper.

He continued to move within her, and she saw him smile at the pleasure he knew he gave her. Quickening the pace of her movement, she placed her hands on his chest to steady herself, and cried out as pleasure consumed her.

Efy thrust inside of her, once, twice, and then she felt his own release pulsate through her womb. She fell against his chest, and buried her face against his neck, as his cock twitched with the last spasms of pleasure.

Rolling onto her back, she placed her arm behind her head and sighed contentedly.

Efy turned on his side. Pulling the blankets over her body, he wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her brow.

“That was amazing,” he breathed in her ear.

She smiled and nodded in acknowledgement.

His eyes closed, and minutes later she could tell by his breathing that he was asleep. Running her fingers over the blond stubble on his jaw, she studied his features.

His eyelashes were as long as a girl's, and cast a shadow on his cheeks as he slept. His face was thin, but his features were well proportioned, and there were no scars to mar his appearance. It was hard not to like him. His easygoing personality was a breath of fresh air, especially compared to the temperamental dispositions of the other men. But she didn't know if she could ever love him, or even feel as strongly for him as she did for Finn.

Was it fair to give him her body and not her heart? Was it not the same thing that Tahdaon had done to her? And if it was, could she really be angry at Tahdaon for not reciprocating her feelings? She didn't know the answers, and with each passing day, she grew more confused.

Lying in Efy's arms, she tried not to think of the other men.

She yawned and snuggled closer to him, and allowed the heat of his body to warm her and make her forget the questions that disturbed her mind. Eventually she closed her eyes and slept.

* * *

Cara was jolted awake. She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the darkness that surrounded her. For a moment she forgot where she was, and panicked against the heavy fur that covered her. The torches had burned out and the cave was dark, except for the soft glow of moonlight that entered from the mouth of the cave. In the darkness she could make out the faint outline of Efy's face. She let out a long even breath and tried to slow her rapidly beating pulse.

“Cara.”

She sat upright as the strange voice echoed throughout the cave. Efy moved in his sleep, but didn't wake. They were supposed to be left undisturbed for many hours still, and yet someone had trespassed on their sanctuary.

“Who's there?”

There was no answer, except the drifting of a shadow across the cave's entrance.

Cara shivered, but despite the anxiety that twisted her stomach in knots, she felt herself drawn to the open air, to the sound of the melodic voice that had called her name.

Wrapping a deer skin blanket around her body, Cara walked silently across the room towards the mouth of the cave. As she stepped outside, she knew instantly that something was wrong. There were supposed to be two men at the entrance, but as she looked around she could see no sign that they had ever been there. Long grass covered the ground where their fires had scorched the earth, and the large tents that had been set up to house Cara's men and Efy's family were no longer there.

Unease turned to fear as she looked out over the open field, which only hours before had been littered with people, and now stood empty. The moon cast an eerie glow, and Cara saw a strange mist rolling over the hills towards her. Shaking, she wrapped the blanket tighter against her bare skin.

She was dreaming. It was the only explanation. But dreams came as distorted images, and the solid feeling of the earth under her bare feet was real. This was something different. Something similar to the visions she had seen in Crowthorne. But she had been drugged then, not sober as she was now. Frightened, her heart pounded in her chest, and a feeling of foreboding swept through her body like a flood.

She took a startled step backwards and had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. She froze, and looked in horror at the woman, twisted and disfigured with age, who stood at the entrance of the cave.

Her face was small, pale and triangular, with dark eyes that seemed too large for her face. Wrapped in rags and a torn shawl, her stringy grey hair was unkempt under her dark hood. The woman's eyes held Cara motionless, and a trickle of icy fear flowed down her back.

It took her several heartbeats to muster a sound. “Who are you?” she said, feeling her voice catch in her throat.

The old crone gave her a toothless grin and held out her hand.

Cara hesitated, and with reluctance stepped forward and lifted her hand to the woman's outstretched palm. The moment the crone's long bony fingers wrapped around her own, a scalding heat flowed through her body. Her vision blurred and the landscape changed rapidly before her eyes. In a single moment she saw Elbia as it had been in the beginning, as it would be in the end, and all the time in between. The vision came so fast she didn't know where one age began and another had ended, but she saw the pattern that formed among the continual destruction and awakening of the land. Some called it the
Great Wain
, the endless wheel of birth, death, and rebirth.  

Pain ripped through her body as she watched helplessly as Elbia lay waste by fire that reigned from the sky, and then silenced for thousands of years under a thick sheet of ice. She heard the cries of thousands upon thousands of people as the land was consumed by a massive wave that came from the very heart of the sea. The coastline grew and shrank, and Cara watched as a great rumbling broke off a large portion of the island which would be become what Cara knew as the province of Drumlish.

It wasn't only the land that changed, but the people that came and went within it. Tribes that worshiped strange gods and goddesses, some that venerated real and mythological animals, and others who deified strange objects that Cara had never seen before. Her mind couldn't comprehend all that she saw, and she struggled to catch her breath at the unfamiliar images.

Almost as destructive as the natural calamities, Cara watched as war ravished the land, in between small pockets of peace, and she saw men, women, and children cut down by sword and arrows, and other powerful weapons that needed no man to yield them. The screams of the innocent echoed in her head. She wanted to close her eyes, cover her ears, and hide from the brutality, but the images continued, assaulting her senses, until all she could do was cry out at the horror of it all.

“I don't understand,” she shouted. Covering her face with her hands, she sobbed, “Why are you showing me this?”

The old crone touched her arm, and the images were gone, replaced by a pulsing white energy that vibrated around them. Cara gasped as warmth spread through her body, and her pulse quickened. Here was love. It was unlike anything she had ever known. There was passion and desire, friendship and respect, truth and forgiveness, and she knew that in that moment she was cradled in the very heart of Annul. This was the sacred place where all life was created.

The old crone changed before her, taking on the image of the ethereal woman she had seen in Crowthorne, the woman that looked so much like her mother. This was the face of Annul, the goddess her people worshipped.

A moment later the woman's form changed again. Her features became those of a woman with skin the color of the night sky, her breasts swollen, and her stomach extended in pregnancy. And then she was an olive skinned man whose sorrow broke Cara's heart. Over and over again, she showed Cara her many faces. Some of her faces were fierce and made Cara cringe in fear; others were strange and exotic, and some made Cara laugh out loud.

In the end, it was the form of Cara's mother that the goddess took. The mother who was a stranger to her. The woman who Cara had yearned for all of her life.

And in that moment, Cara knew the truth.

“This isn't your true image.” It was a statement of understanding rather than a question.

The woman smiled tenderly at Cara, slowly nodded her head, and laid a light hand on Cara's arm. Filled with an overwhelming sense of love, tears streamed down her cheeks, and a sob escaped her lips. Never in her life had she felt so unconditionally loved. The woman drew her to her breast and rocked her back and forth as if she were a small child, and Cara allowed the tears that she had held in for so long to flow freely.

“Cara.”

The voice was different. Deeper. More demanding.

“Cara, wake up.”

“No,” she moaned and shook her head. She didn't want to wake up.

“Cara, look at me.”

It was Efy's voice that brought her back to reality.