Defiance (The Priestess Trilogy) (8 page)

2.
     
INTO THE DARKNESS

Despite the storm that had come upon her so suddenly, churning the waters beneath her boat,
Shiovra
had stepped
o
nto the shores of Éire safely. Pulling the hood of her cloak up against the falling rain, she looked around
at the lush, green land
she had only been able to see from afar for ten years. Though she was still far from Tara, she already felt at home. With a sigh, s
he made her way from the shore and into a heavily forested are
a. She wasn’t far into the trees before the storm picked up, becoming more vicious.

The sky, which had only been cloudy earlier,
was
now black and menacing
. The setting sun was well hidden behind a
thick
blanket of darkness. Rain had been falling softly at first, but no
w it came down in a torrential downpour that was so heavy it was blinding
. Lightning played cruelly across the sky, like wicked hands that clawed at the earth. The rumble of thunder shook the ground, as if the
earth itself trembled with fear and a bitter,
rebellious wind tore over the land, howling eerily as
it ripped
through the trees surrounding
Shiovra
. The trees swayed and moaned
in the roughness of the wind sending l
eaves and branches
to tumble
down in utter defeat. The trees seemed to have gained voice, as if they screamed in protest to the winds vicious onslaught.

Shiovra
paused. She could feel the energy generated by the storm, wild and untamed, but also warning. A warning for
her
.

It was then that
she heard
it, distant shouts that were
faint beneath the din of the stor
m. They were nearly audible and
she could tell that they were coming closer, too close.
Biting her lip, she quickened her pace
.

The wind grew stronger
and the lightning was relentless, but she continued onward till she began to feel weariness in her legs. Slowing her pace,
Shiovra
rested briefly against a tre
e to catch her breath
. Closing
her eyes
, she
pull
ed
some of the energy created by the storm
into
her
,
harnessing its strength for her own
.

She could hear the shouting growing closer now. They were near. Her eyes flashed open and she
cursed under her breath.

Turning sharply from the tree,
Shiovra
c
ried out as a sword narrowly missed her and managed to catch the hood of her cloak. In one swift movement s
he ducked down and dodged the blade, heart pounding.

The man
in turn brought the blade up
to attack once more
, shouting his rage
.

Yet his attack fell short as a
n arrow whistled past her head and landed in the man’s chest. With a painful grunt and a moment of stunned sputtering, he fell lifeless to the ground.

Quickly stepping back, she looked
around. In the brief illumination from the lightning, sh
e saw a figure stepping
back into the shadows.

There was a
nother
shout in the distance.

Deciding she would rather
not
discover if they w
ere friend or foe,
Shiovra
carefully made her way
t
hrough the woods.
She was greatly aware of her lack of weapons and sco
lded herself soundly for it. Ducking
behind a tree,
she hid
within
the shadows and tried to see any movement through the rain with each blinding flash of lightning
.
Unable to see anything, s
he tu
rned swiftly and continued to pick her way quickly through the storm ravaged woods, though her legs had begun to ache and were growing weak from the excretion.

Shiovra
glanced behind herself
more than once
, ignoring the branches which lashed at her face and pulled at her garments. Her mind was set upon one thing only: to get away. Stumbling a few times, she caught herself and
continued on in a quicker pace.
A
br
anch caught on her clothes and whipped
against her skin harshly
, bringing her flight to pause. When she tried to push it aside,
Shiovra
slipped on the wet ground and fell
.

“You shall elude me no longer!”
said
a man’s voice
, dangerously close
.

Shiovra
started
and looked up.

A man s
talked towards her, with a menacing grin she caught in the brief flashes of light.
From what she could see, his hair had been washed with lime, stark and white, and his skin was swarthy.
He
was followed
closely by some other
men
with similar features
.
She had not had too much experience with those like him, but enough to know that he was of the Milidh clan; the men who had arrived to the shores of Éire’s ten years ago seeking vengeance for Ith’s death.

“What wonderful
prey
we have found!” he declared with a malicious laugh
. “It is pointless to try and escape…little wen
ch.” The man strode towards her, like a creature stalking it
s prey.

Shiovra
watched him carefully as she rose slowl
y to her feet
, her mind racing for possible means of escape.
She could see five of them altogether.
She was at a disadvantage, not just by the number of them, but also for her folly of forgetting to bring a weapon of sorts with herself. She thought that, perhaps, if she was quick enough, she could duck around the tree and lose them in the turbulence of the storm.

Before she could act, she was seized from behind as
someone wrapped their arm
tightly
around her waist and a
dagger glanced acr
oss her cheek, cutting it
enough to bleed slightly.

“Well, well, well. What have we here?” a harsh male voice breathed in her ear.

Shiovra
struggled with him, but the man’s grip upon her
was firm. The energies swirling through the air continued to warn and shout at her, but the man’s grip upon her was preventing her from focusing enough to harness them
.
No matter how much she fought against the man’s hold, she could not free herself.

“Árdal! Look at what I have caught!”

The
man,
who had spo
ken first, stepped up. “Well done
. You have caught the little wench.” He frowned and looked at
Shiovra
more closely, an action which
sent a chill through the priestess’ body. “Hmmm…” The menacing grin returned and he
laughed. “Too clean to been a simple
common
wench. More likely a chieftain’s child. Lovely little thing she is!” growled the ruffian. “She will make good ransom after I get what I need from her! Sh
eath your dagger, fool, before y
o
u
damage the wench further than you already have!”

Shiovra
glared at the man, but held her tongue. When she could no longer feel the dagger against her skin, she tried more vigorously to free herself of her captors grip.

Árdal smirked. “Oh, you do not
approve?
”
he scoffed, leaning closer towards her
. “What
a wild
one we have on our hands!
And see those pretty marking
s that she bears upon her skin? It seems to me that w
e have a High Priestess in our grasp,” laughed the Milidh man. “I should just keep you for myself.
” His voice dropped low, tone cold, “
The Túath
clan
have no place here anymore.”

“We have no place?” began
Shiovra
, keeping her voice calm and even. “It would seem to me that
you
have no place.
We, the Túath,
brought to this land great wisdom and knowledge
.
Your foul clan is
destructive
in your ways with not a care for anything else but your desires and vengeance.
You, whose lust for power and control
lead
you t
o destroy all
that which does not submit.”
She narrowed her gaze on the man
. “
You
do not belong here.
”

“And yet you shall submit, wench,” spat Árdal. “Just like the Parthalon su
ccumbed to an illness that then spread to the Neimidh. Or
the
Fomorii who fell to you as just
as the
y had the
Fir Bolg…the Túatha Dé Danann will succumb to us!” His voice became deeper,
husky as he looked her over and the wet clothing
clinging to her body. “
Your
people killed Ith when he
praised this lands beauty. Now…
you can submit to me
or suffer his fate
.”

“You have a distorted mind
…”
Shiovra
muttered. “May you leave without returning
.
”

Árdal laughed. “That was not very kind of you to say, wench…” he breathed harshly,
then a cruel smile spread
across his lips. “We were destined to take this land from you the moment Ith’s blood soaked the green earth!” He reach
ed a filthy hand up and, grabbed hold of her chin roughly
. “Yes, what a rare find we have stumbled across! When I am don
e with you…well best not speak of that now
.”

Anger washed over
Shiovra
and
she
kicked the shins of the man who held her captive
with all her strength
.
With a hissed cruse, the man released her and she was free. Moving quickly, her hand lashed out and
struck Árdal full
across the face.

Árdal stumbled back from the surprising force of the blow. “Why you little
…
you’ll pay for that! Seize her!” he bellowed in rage. “We
’ll make her learn.” A smug laugh passed his lips despite the anger evident
in his voice.

Shiovra
dodged the men’s grasps as they reached to seize her once again. She
needed to draw upon the energy created by the storm to defend herself, but first she needed to get further away from them. Breaking
into a run,
Shiovra
wove her way through the trees
. It took her a moment to realize that the rain had let up and the lightning
was becoming less frequent. And
, without so much rain, the moon had begun to peak through small breaks in the clouds
making it much easier for her to see, but also easier for her pursuers as well
.

A voice shouted to her over the wind,
“Be a good little wench, and come back here. Your punishment will be less severe if you do as you are told!”

She
glanced back over her shoulder to find that
Árdal pursued her alone now,
his men no
where to be seen; a matter which began
to worry her more. She could hear their sho
uts as well as those of others
co
ming from off in the woods
to her le
ft. There were torch lights behind Árdal, dim but there, and
Shiovra
knew
oth
ers aside from his men lurked in the trees
.

Suddenly, a
chill
of warning
raced up her spine.
Shiovra
stumbled over a fallen tree and fell to the ground, rolling and narrowly missing an arrow that Árdal had shot at her. She crouched there for a moment, catching her breath and fearing that any movement would allow him to target her better.