Defiance (The Priestess Trilogy) (27 page)

Yet it was Odhrán who spoke first, breaking the heavy silence between them, “You are angry with me, I can
see that much in your eyes. Silence was necessary and so I acquired it by the best means possible
.”

Frowning
,
she took a step closer to him. “You could have
covered my mouth with your hand,
”
she argued in a harsh tone.

“Ah, that is so, b
ut
I
doubt covering your mouth with my hand woul
d have been nearly as effective,
”
he replied with a small smirk twisting the corners of his lips.

Shiovra
faltered, thrown off guard not only by his response, but by the playful smile he offered her
.
It was the first time she had seen a smile on the Milidh man’s face and she found it both
fascinating and unsettling, though she found his humor in the situation infuriating. Narrowing her gaze, she countered, “
You ask for my trust, yet you do
that.
”

Smile fading, he
began to approach her.

The priestess stiffened, taking a step back.

Odhrán countered each step until the woman had backed herself against a support post. He stopped a hair’s breath away and leaned towards her
. Brushing his lips acr
oss
Shiovra
’s cheek, he whispered
firmly
in her ear
, “I told you
that my duty is to protect you, e
ven if that means
stealing a taste of
your lips anytime that I need you to be silent, priestess.”

The flush of anger prickled her skin and she brought her hand up swiftly to strike him
. To her surprise, her hand did not connect with his face, but was caught gingerly in his hand.

Odhrán brought
he
r hand up to his lips, kissing her palm
before
releasing it. “Now, if you will excuse me, I need to help prepare the villagers
.”

Flushing a deeper shade of crimson from b
oth embarrassment and anger,
Shiovra
watched him leave in si
lence before slowly slumping to the ground. Looking down at her hand, she rubbed the skin where the warmth of his lips had touched. Cursing lightly under her breath, she decided the man was far more dangerous than she had realized.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Daire paced beside the hearth fire in the main cottage of Tara.
Upon his arrival to the village, he had gone straight to the chieftain and informed him of all that had taken place since his de
parture; from
Shiovra
’s capture, to the fall of Caher Dearg and even the betrayal of Gráinne. When he had finished, he turned
to face Ainmire.

“
I never did trust Gráinne’s intentions,” muttered Ainmire, looking up from his meal. “
Her ambitions and jealousy were far too great.
She may pose a stronger threat than Ailill…” Grabbing his cup, he took a long swig of mead. “What of the High Priestess? Did she obtain any injuries during her capture?”

“A wound to her hand, but with proper care, it will heal well,”
answered Daire.
He was silent a moment, then asked without any caution, “How can you let her go to Dún Fiáin so easily to seek aid?”

“If the clan of Dún Fiáin seeks to prove their desire for alliance, then they must promise it to the woman who
holds this village in her heart,
”
replied Ainmire in an even tone, turning
back to his meal. “If she journeyed to Dún Fiáin with Odhrán and Kieran as you have stated, then she is in capable hands.”

“I do not trust
him
,” growled Daire
angrily
.
“After what that clan has done to us, you just
hand
Shiovra
over to them?! Her mother was killed by the Milidh! How could you promise her to wed one of them, let alone let one of them wander this village so freely?”

“Why did you not go with her to Dún Fiáin if you worry so greatly?” countered Ainmire with a raised brow.

Daire said nothing, looking away.

“In times of war, sometimes your enemy can be your ally.” Ainmire focused his attention on his cup of mead, which he swirled around with a slight gesture of the hand. “
The sons of Míl pose a greater threat than one village,” he said after a moment. “
The alliance with Dún
Fiáin
assures
that we have one foot in
enemy territory.”

“Can you really be so sure about that?”
asked Daire. “
How can you be sure that is not their same plan? To get a foothold here so that when the time of war comes, we cannot take action against them due to the alliance?”

“There is no way of being sure,” said Ainmire
with a wry grin
, “but that is how war is; alliances forged and broken in a succession of tactical decisions and ploys. All that matters is to be one step ahead of your enemy.”

Daire crossed his arms. “Basically, we slit their throat before they slit ours?” he muttered, his eyes drifting to the tall figure standing in the shadows behind the chieftain. “Is that how it is,
father
?”

Ceallach stepped into the firelight. “Precisely,” he replied in an even tone. “
In war, every possibility needs to be considered. By forging an alliance, we place some of our people in enemy hands to serve as our ears. Offering the hand of our High Priestess in marriage further proves the want of
peace.
Should they choose to later break the alliance, our informants will have already sent word and we shall make the first move.”

Daire
rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I urged
Shiovra
to abandon Rúnda so she would not have to suffer serving as your pawn. But, fearing that to refuse the union with the Dún Fiáin clan would bring war to Tara, she refused to dissolve the agreement,” he began
, shaking his head
. “
A
fter
all that she has been through to assure the safety of this village,
after being attacked by Milidh huntsmen and even her own kin…after
turning her back on you,
Shiovra
is still caught within your twisted web!” he growled.

Ceallach looked at him impassively. “We do what is in the best interests for the clan,” he told him simply. “The priestess could easily turn her back on the promised union, but she has not.” The Fomorii man walked around Daire and paused b
eside him, his voice low when he spoke again. “The Fomorii are
moving.
I suggest you return to
Shiovra
’s side and bring her back to Tara safely.”

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

A dour mood
had settled over Ráth Faolchú as the village had begun to prepare for possible battle
.
For several days the Milidh host continued to hold their position near the entrance of the village. More than once Meara’s men had drawn the enemy scouts away from the hidden walls, keeping Ráth Faolchú safe, but even they knew the ploy would not work forever. The longer the Milidh warriors lingered, the greater the unease among the villagers grew.

The people of the Ráth spoke quietly, if they even spok
e at all. Meals were prepared and eaten long after sunset when there would be little chance of smoke from hearth fires being seen. The once peaceful vi
llage
had become filled with heavy apprehension.

On the sixth
day, Odhrán climbed the wall and took post
watching
the enemy camp. Which village the Milidh warriors had come from, which chieftain they answered to, remained unknown to him
. Odhrán was certain, though, that the sons of Míl had p
lans that did not sit well with his own and it was wearing away at his patience.

Kieran climbed up
to join him. “They linger too long,” he said
in a hushed voice.

Odhrán did not look at him when he stated quietly, “You worry they know the village is here and wait us out.”

Kieran
nodded.
“In all the years it has been here, n
ot once has this village been found. If there is to be battle, we can easily hold our own,
but should any of the enemy survive, this village would not remain hidden for long.”

“Then we will be sure there are no survivors,” replied Odhrán bluntly. “Daire and Meara should be returning from Tara soon, we need to focus on getting them into the village unnoticed.”

“A diversion?” suggested Kieran.

Odhrán g
lanced at the Neimidh man, a slight grin crossing his lips. “You could say that.”

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Though progress from Tara had been swift and unhindered, Meara found that she hesitated the closer they neared Ráth Faolchú. Something did not sit right with the Neimidh woman. Coming to a stop, Meara’s eyes narrowed at the woods surrounding them.
Listening, she could hear faint voices nearby. Reason would stand that the voices could belong to her men or even the villagers, but she had a feeling that was not the case.

“What is
…” began Daire, abruptly quieting when Meara held her hand up for silence.

The Neimidh woman signaled to Ainnle, motioning for him to go towards the left while she began moving to the right. Ducking from tree to tree with Daire following, Meara slowly approached the voices. Rounding the bend of a small hill, she brought her arm out to stop Daire.

A short distance away
sat
a fairly large camp.
Tents had been erected and fires built.
Horses stood tethered to trees,
nickering and snorting. Several men with lime washed hair sat near the fires and tended to their weapons.

Meara quickly looked over the men. Should counted twenty-three, but knew there would certainly be more scouting the woods around the camp. Pulling back, she silently spoke to Daire using a series of hand gestures.
Their camp is too close to the village gates for us to enter,
she told him.
We cannot handle that many on our own.

What do you suggest then?
he signed back.
Should we circle round to the rear of the village and climb the wall?

Meara glanced back at the camp before replying to Daire,
It would be our best option.

When shall we do this?
questioned Daire.

Nightfall would be best
,
replied Meara after a moment of thought
.
There are most likely Milidh scouts all throughout these woods. Hopefully we have not been spotted already.

Daire nodded in agreement.

We need to find Ainnle,
gestured Meara.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Shiovra
lay looking up at the dark thatch roof looming above her for a long while.
The longer the Milidh warriors held camp outside the village, the more sleep eluded her.
Rolling onto her side, she
took a deep breath, the scent of forests, rain, and wood sage invading her senses
.
A slight frown marred her brow
.
Wood sage?
she
thought. O
pening her eyes
,
she sat
up slowly to look around
.
Her eyes fell upon
Odhrán
as he
sat
leaning against the wall on the bed near her.
His
eyes
were
closed and
his
chest
rose
slowly
with his steady breathing
.
Shiovra
watched him for a moment
in the dim firelight
before rising from the bed and walking towards the door. Yet, a
s she reached for
the door, Odhrán’s low
voice stayed her movement.

“Unable to sleep?
”

She paused, hand resting on the door frame
.
“Aye.
”
Shiovra
glanced over her should
er
at the Milidh
man
,
but his
eyes remained closed.
“I think some fresh air might help.”

He shifted, opening his eyes. “I shall walk with you then
,”
Odhrán told her
.