Defiance (The Priestess Trilogy) (17 page)

Shiovra
nodded
. “Thank you,” she said,
leaving the loom and walking to the door. P
ull
ing open the wicker-work door, she let the cool night breeze drift into the cottage
.

“
It is my hope, though, that you will join us in the main cottage soon
.” A boyish smile touched his lips. “That chest has s
ome clothing and warm bedding. I
f you should need more, ask for Tailtu. She is skilled when it comes to making garments.”

Shiovra
sat down upon the bed. “I shall keep that in mind
.
Thank you for going through the trouble.
”

“Come morning Ainmire would like to speak with you,”
Daire
told her.

The priestess nodded.

“
I should let you rest
,” he sai
d, stretching once more.
With a slight bow, he turned to leave. “Sleep well, cousin
.
”

“As you,” replied
Shiovra
.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

There are hunters seeking you, charged with your capture. My purpose is to make sure they do not succeed.

Shiovra
woke with a start and
rolled onto h
er side. The Milidh man’s words lingered in her mind, even in her dream
s
. He
had told her it was her choice whether she trusted him or not, though
Shiovra
doubted she ever would. Because of the Milidh, her mother was dead and many villagers suffered
.
Because of the Milidh,
the rule of the Túatha Dé
Danann
was being threatened
.

When she had stood before Odhrán in the woods, she had felt anger and fear. And now,
lying
alone in her cottage, she found
she was apprehensive.

There is a storm coming. The hunters search for you, priestess, and with the crimson haze of dawn, the battle will be upon us.

Odhrán’s words had been very cryptic. And though a storm raged outside of her cottage, she knew it was not the same storm he had been referring to. Yet which brewing storm he referred to,
Shiovra
did not know for sure. It could easily mean his own clan and the sons of Míl, but it could also mean Ailill and his increasing war host.

With the crimson haze of dawn, the battle will be upon us.

Shiovra
wondered if she was ready for the battle Odhrán spoke of. Although the thought did not escape her that the Milidh man’s words could have merely been a ploy meant to
distract her from his true intentions. The Fomorii were not the only ones know for their tricks.

With a frustrated sigh, she rolled onto
her back and looked up at the dark thatch roof looming above her. Taking a deep breath,
Shiovra
closed her eyes and forced herself to clear her mind.
Dawn was surely near and, if the battle would be upon them as Odhrán had proclaimed, she would need all the sleep she could get.
Releasing the breath, she took another, her body slowly beginning to relax.

T
hunder cracked loudly, giving the priestess a start
, and she found herself jolting up in her bed.

The
storm had grown in sudden intensity, unleashing tremendous vengeance upon the village. Gusts of wind slammed against the cottage, battering the
wic
ker-work door relentlessly. L
ightning
briefly illuminated to small cottage through the cracks in the door, sending eerie shadows to stretch across the floor and to the bed where the priestess sat, blanket clutched to her chest
. Rain pounded on the thatch roof as if it meant to pummel the cottage down.

Shiovra
shiv
ered as a sudden wave of fear
gripp
ed at her heart. Taking calming breaths once again, s
he pushed back the blankets and swun
g her feet to the floor.
Slightly hesitant, she walked slowly,
cautiously
, towards the door
. A
s she reached for
it a
gust of wind blew
the door
open
, sending a rush of rain onto the woman
.

Outside, the village was dark, illuminated briefly by bright flashes of clawing lightning. The rumble of thunder shook the ground beneath her feet. The wild energies flowing through the air were both exhilarating and downright frightful.

And then she felt it, something out of place and
dangerous.

The words
fell from her mouth in a soft plea before she e
ven realized them, “
Guardian of the north, by the power of earth, I call upon thee…”

Thunder rumbled in response, the ground almost humming beneath her feet
. The wind carried eerie sounds, strange moans drifting through the air.
She had heard such cries before and would forever remember them. Cries that were filled with loss and immense grief. Cries that could paralyze even the most hardened of warriors: t
he cries of the
bean sidhe.

As lightning flashed, movement in the corner of her eye caught
Shiovra
’s attention.
She spun quickly, ready to face whoever or whatever stood beside her in her cottage.

Standing just to her right was the luminous, transparent form of a woman with hollow eyes. Her hair and garments were long and pale, her face grief stricken.

“They are looking for you,”
she said with an echoing voice that was laden with sadness.
“They come.”

Letting the door fall shut, she searched the cottage frantically for
something,
anything
, which could be used as a weapon. Her search ended in vain when she found
only bowls and cups. Cursing under her breath, she crept into the darkness near the door. Her best option was to remain hidden long enough that she may slip out unnoticed and seek help. Slowing her breat
hing, she listened for the slightest sounds
above the din of the storm
, anything that could tell her where the enemy may be
.

At first she heard nothing by thunder, rain, and wind.

Then she heard it, the sound of
footsteps
trudging over the soaked earth. Footsteps that drew dangerously closer with ever shuddering breath she took.

Never before had
Shiovra
felt so cornered.

The door clattered open and wind rushed violently into the cottage
.

Crouched in the shadows by a support post,
Shiovra
saw a figure standing in the doorway, silhouetted in the relentless flashes of lightning. They stood unmoving, blocking her only means of escape.

Clenching her hands tightly, she moved very slowly, straightening.
As it harm none, do as thou will,
Shiovra
chanted in her head. The rede prevented her from harming others, but also deemed that she was not to
allow
harm unto her. Taking another calming breath, the priestess focused on the energy surr
ounding her, gathering into herself
.

It was then that the figure in the doorway moved
to face her, cloak
whirling
out
from the sudden movement.

That was the last the priestess saw before she felt a prick on her neck and fell unconscious to the ground.

41

4.
    
CRIMSON DAWN

She was lost in a haze of memories, happy and painful mingling together in an indiscernible blur.
She could not fight against them, could not block them out of her unconscious mind. Her body felt horribly heavy, but at the same time as if it floated in the air. She struggled to regain control of her body; to wake from the memories she had no desire to relive.

Shiovra
slowly
woke from her latent state
, opening
her eyes to dim light. She found herself
lying
within a small room, her head throbbing
. As her eye
s adjusted, she realized that it
was not
a room at all
;
the walls and low
roof
not of clay daub and thatch, but
pack
ed earth. In the dim flickering light
of a torch that had been propped up,
she saw a lone stone wall before.

Sitting
slowly
, she
waited for the throbbing in her head to subside before
attempting
to
raise
her sore body.

Y
et
, as she began to move,
firm hands
came to rest on her shoulders from behind, holding her gently back.

Startled,
Shiovra
reflexively tried to jerk away.

A hand quickly moved to cover
her mouth, muffling her startled cry.

“Shhh…” a voice breathed softly into her ear. “
Be quiet or we will be found
.”

Shiovra
frowned. The man’s voice was unfamiliar,
and his hushed warning only troubled her more. Found by whom, enemies or
allies
? The thought of possibly being in enemy hands did not sit well with her.
Shiovra
tried to protest, tried to pull away, but the hand on her mouth only tightened
.

“We will be safe here if you keep silent
,”
instructed
the whispered voice
, tone strict
.

Shiovra
shifted, twisting her body as much as the man would permit her, trying to get a glimpse of who commanded her.
In the flickering light, she met the eyes of Odhrán.

“I warned that you were being hunted,” he continued in a low voice
. “
Heed my word next time.”

Reluctantly she nodded and he removed his hand from her mouth, releasing her shoulder. Free from the Milidh man’s hold, she rubbed her arms and inspected everything around her more closely. Behind them st
retched an expanse of slightly familiar darkness.
Shiovra
could not be sure, but it seemed as if she was in the same tunnel Réalta had opened for their escape from Milidh attack ten years ago. Her thoughts were quickly dismissed as the sound of muffled voices rose from the other side of the stone wall.

What was being spoken could not be
understood, but the scra
ping that followed spoke quite clearly: whoever was on the other side was trying to get through.

Odhrán shifted closer to her, wrapping one arm around her shoulders
and
pulling
her
to
his body protectively
.
Reaching out his other hand, he touched the stone slab.

Shiovra
sat stiffly against him, her eyes narrowing on the hand that touched the stone. She could not be certain in the wav
ering light, but the stone appeare
d to ripple beneath his fingers
, t
hough the shift in power around them was undeniable; the Milidh man held sway over earth as
Daire
did over air.

The sc
rap
ing continued to persist.

Cursing under his breath,
Odhrán pressed the palm of his hand hard against the stone. The ground beneath them trembled lightly, a rumble filling the air.

Silence followed, the noise on the other side ceasing.

Odhrán
did not move, keeping very still.

Shiovra
waited
, listening for even the slightest sound and hearing only their steady breathing. “Are they gone?” she ventured in a voice scarcely above a whisper.

The man did not respond, only kept his hold on her while his hand remained on the stone wall. Odhrán’s
attention was focused on what possibly lay beyond that very stone.

When
Shiovra
began to feel the danger had passed, voices could be heard once more. She flinched when Odhrán reflexively tightened his grip.

Then, oddly enough, there was a soft tapping on the ston
e.

Shiovra
frowned. It wasn’t the same as the determined scraping, more like a questioning knock.

Releasing her, Odhrán moved to the stone, pressing his ear against it.

The Priestess waited silently.

Shifting, Odhrán brought both of his hands up on the stone
.
Muttering
under his breath, he pushed the stone aside to reveal a souterrain.

Daire
, who had been crouched on the other side, fell back in surprise. But that
moment of
surprise quickly turned to anger when he noticed Odhrán.
“
Is this where you have been
?
” he demanded, grabbing Odhrán roughly by the front of his tunic
and pulling him to his feet
.
“Hiding here while the rest of the village was being attacked?”

“
I did what was necessary,
”
replied
the
Milidh man in an even tone as
he knocked
Daire
’s hand away.

“What was necessary?!”
Daire
continued. “If you were sent her
e
to protect
Shiovra
, as you claim, then you should have been out there with the rest of us!”

Shiovra
rose to her feet and looked over
Odhrán
’s shoulder as he blocked her path from
the tunnel.
She quickly took in
Daire
’s disheveled hair and smudged face.

“I was not the one who left her in an unguarded cottage outsi
de away from the warriors
,” said Odhrán, voice firm, but calm. “You know full well she would be hunted and yet you took no precautions for her safety.” He crossed his arms. “When I got to her cottage, there was already a huntsman inside.
I disposed of him and brought the High Priestess to safety.”

From where
Shiovra
stood in the tunnel, she could see unbridled anger cross her cousin’s face.

“You probably brought them here to begin with!” growled
Daire
angrily, reaching for Odhrán again, only to have the man dodge.

“Are you insinuating that I had a hand in this attack?”
Odhrán’s tone had become hard and cold. “I was sent to this village to protect the High Priestess and help the people of Tara gain some belief that not all of
those born to the
Milidh clan seek war, not to plan attacks against the village.”

“By your own words you admitted to being sent here to gain our trust!” countered
Daire
. “How do expect us to believe you had nothing to do with the attack?!”

Shiovra
decided it was time to interject before the whole situation escalated out of control.
Pushing roughly past Odhrán, she stepped between the men with her hands raised.
“
There has been enough fighting this night!” she declared. “
By earth,
Daire
, Odhrán is like you!”
Shiovra
rubbed her face wearily.
“
The people of this village are in danger because of me
, not him
.
”

“
Shiovra
…”
Daire
began, but was cut off by the silencing glare she shot his way.

“The village needs more warriors at its disposal,” continued the priestess. “Without more swords and spears, Tara will remain vulnerable and her people in danger.”

“And what do you suggest? The High Chieftain’s took many of our able men last winter to strengthen their own defenses,” stated
Daire
bitterly.
“We have all the men who are able to fight
already
doing so.”

Shiovra
looked away
and sighed
. “
We shall seek
aid from Dún Fiáin,” she said softly.

Daire
opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out and so he closed his mouth and stared at her in complete disbelief.

“Are you sure about that?” asked Mahon’s voice suddenly.

Looking up,
Shiovra
found her brother sitting beside the ladder, looking down at them.
His face was pale and there was dried blood splattered on his tunic.
Her hands clenched the fold of her shift tightly. While she had been unconscious and hidden away, her kin had been fighting for their lives.

“
Do you w
ant to take the risk of asking a
n enemy clan for aid?”
Mahon continued to question
.

Shiovra
closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
“What other choice do we have?”
she argued, meeting his gaze firmly
. “If the clan of Dún Fiáin truly seeks alliance with us, if their intentions are untainted, then they can aid in defending this village. We have to take the risk.”

“Then I’ll go…” began Mahon, only to be cut off.

“Nay,” interrupted
Shiovra
. “It must be me.
If I am to wed the chieftain’s son, then I should be the one to ask for
support
.”

“Do you expect us to let you do something so dangerous?” interjected
Daire
, grabbing her by the arm
.

“
I am the High Priestess of this village. I must do my part to protect it,
” countered
Shiovra
, wrenching her arm free,
“
e
ven
if it means sacrificing mysel
f
.”

Mahon was quiet a moment
, rubbing his temple. “
I shall trust your judgment
,”
he said after a long while. “But
, please, rest for now. You can start your journey at midday.”

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

On the second day of their journey,
Shiovra
woke
to find s
he lay on her stomach, the soft grass
beneath her
d
amp from morning dew
. A small fire burned beside her and she was wrapped up in a thick cloak which she recog
nized as Odhrán’s while her own
lay beneath her head. Slight colors
had begu
n to hint the clou
d filled sky and a gentle, moist breeze drifted over her cheek
.
Rolling onto her back,
Shiovra
sat up and stretched. She was not used to sleeping on the ground, and her body ached.

A
s
the wind drifted past her, a chill raced through her body, followed by the feeling of being watched.

Shiovra
looked across the camp
fire to see
Daire
sitting on a
fallen tree, poking
at the fire with a stick while speaking to Odhrán
in hushed tones
. Sitting the stick down, he took a sip from a steaming earthen bowl he held
in his other hand
. Odhrán
,
running a finger along the edge of his cup, suddenly
glanced over at
Shiovra
and offered it to her
.

The priestess
frowned, shaking her head. “Can you not sense him?” she breathed, wondering how they could both sit and talk with such ease while someone was watching them.

Both men nodded.