Celtic Stars (Celtic Steel Book 4) (4 page)

Patrick rose from his seat and reached a hand towards Jamie, who promptly accepted it.  “Jamie won’t ye please have a seat?” asked Patrick. Obliging him, Jamie walked to the back of the Council Chamber and sat in his newly established position at the table.  As the heir to the Burke clan Lordship, Jamie had become the leader of the Burke refugees now living in O’Malley territory.  Patrick made him a member of the O’Malley Council the moment he expressed his desire to wed Daenal.

“I think we’re all here,” said Galen from his perch at the scribe’s table in the corner of the room.  "Ruarc, Lucian, Airard, Jamie, Gemma, Darina and, oh -  Kurt couldn’t make it.”

“Let us begin,” Patrick said.  I’ve had a discussion with Gemma earlier about some matters that the Council may need to be aware of.  These things may have some bearing on how we can help Daenal.”

“Help Daenal?”,  interrupted Jamie.  “I was on my way to get Daenal back and yer sentry stopped me!”

“Jamie,” spoke Airard softly from across the table, “I believe something very important is about to be said and I think we all would like to hear it.  Can you give Gemma just a moment of yer time?”

“Would this have anything to do with Gemma being a shifter?”  Jamie asked.

Darina gasped, placing her right hand over her mouth and her left hand on her protruding belly, “What do ye mean she’s a shifter?”

Lucian stood up, wrapping his fingertips atop the Council table.  “Jamie,” he asked, “what makes ye think Gemma is a shifter?”

Galen, who had stopped taking notes moments before, stood as well. As did Ruarc, but Airard snickered under his breath,“I’m sure it’s quite evident to Master Burke.” He said chuckling again, this time his shoulders visibly shaking.

“Patrick,” exclaimed Darina, “What does this mean?  Shifter-  what do ye mean?” she repeated directing her question to Jamie.

Gemma interrupted, “Jamie’s right, I am a shifter and I think I can help find Daenal.”

“I don’t need any
help
finding Daenal,” stated Jamie, matter-of-factly.  “In fact, I think we all know where she’s been taken.  The only question is whether or not it’s too late.”

“Well.  Where is she,” asked Darina.  “If we know where she is, why haven’t we gotten her?”

Jamie grunted, an
I told you so
kind of reminder that this is exactly what he was on his way to do. “Well, unless you can climb Finnegan falls, I’m quite certain you won’t be able to bring her back.”

Darina gasped and her uncle Ruarc continued, “that’s right Dragon’s Point.  I realize none of us ever really believed in dragons, but after what happened, we’ve got no choice.  And we can only assume the Dragon would take her to its lair, which happens to be high atop the port at Finnegan Falls.”

“But what has that to do with Gemma?” questioned Darina.

Jamie and Lucian spoke in unison.  “Show her.”

Gemma rose and giving a reluctant sigh removed her cloak and handed it to Airard to her right.  “Would ye hold on to this for me?” she asked

Gemma was a lovely woman, not only was she the elected leader of the Island of Women, but she was one of the most respected women in all of O’Malley clan.  She had always been an O’Malley clan member, having come at an early age with her mother, a transplant from the McAllister clan just North of Burke lands.  In her early forties, Gemma had beautiful champagne-colored hair with just a hint of gray and beautiful gray eyes to match.  She was quite possibly the most intelligent woman Patrick had ever met.  Besides his mother, that was, and his cunning wife.

Never married, Gemma was content to raise her family on her own.  Her youngest, a girl, was just under 10 months.  Gemma earned her position in the clan and with the women on the island the old-fashioned way; through hard work, determination and a keen sense of fairness and justice.  Although she was trustworthy and respected, she was also closed off and very private.  Not many knew the private Gemma, and what they were about to learn would shock them to their cores.

F
OUR

Dragon’s Point

Her head was spinning, her stomach growling and her back was painfully aware of her predicament.  It took a few moments for Daenal to realize just where she was.  How on earth had she managed to fall asleep under such circumstances?  She was normally vigilant, observant and highly intuitive.  However, the events of the past few weeks had proven to her in no uncertain terms that she was in fact
human
.  Not that she ever believed she was anything more than fallible; she had always been able to maintain her composure in a crisis, as well as maintain a cool head.

Here she was high above the O’Malley port, a prisoner of some sort, to a creature she knew very little about.  Other than the legends and tales that had been passed down from generation to generation, dragons were a virtual unknown to Daenal.  She must’ve passed out while in the dragon's clutches.  Finnegan falls was only a few miles from where the games were being held. It wouldn’t have taken very long for them to arrive at the cave opening.  No doubt being unconscious was a mercy to her.  Her fear of heights would have gotten the better of her anyway.

It didn’t take very long for Daenal to realize she was not alone.  Something was snoring or groaning in the back of the cave.  There was the stench of fish in the air and the loud falling of the water sent her senses into overload.  She wondered for a moment how long she had been there, was she the first human to arrive?  Had she any hope of escape or was she destined to starve to death or worse, become food for the creature.  But if she were to become food for the creature, why wasn’t she already dead?

It was all coming back to her now. 
The games.
  Her Jamie! Oh, what had become of her Jamie? She saw the look of fear in his eyes.  Those eyes, those beautiful crystalline eyes that saw right through to her soul.He had charged the beast!  It wasn’t fear in his eyes. It was pure rage! It was ownership and fierce indignation that possessed him at that moment; she was his and nothing and no one, not even a Dragon, would keep them apart.

Her head was spinning again. She reached up to clutch each side. Gripping the tips of her ears she massaged them the way that her mother taught her. It did nothing to quell the headache that had come upon her.  That noise.  Here it was again a whirling, whistling, whining type noise that could only mean one thing.The Dragon was on its way back and what on earth would she do?`

Even above the loud falling water, she could make out the unmistakable sound of Dragon’s wings.  A high pierced cry from the back of the cave sent shivers up her spine.  Feeling her way in the semi-darkness; she etched the cold, cavernous walls with her left hand, creeping slowly towards the cave entrance and a large rock where she hoped she could hide.  Mindful of her footing, she was grateful she had worn her boots and truis, rather than the traditional game gown worn by Laird’s daughters.

Daenal had grown accustomed to maneuvering in the dark. Her older sister would not have approved, but she had spent the better part of the last few evenings exploring the shoreline with her beloved Jamie.  They knew they were meant for one another and were intent on getting to know one another better before the wedding. She was safe enough with Jamie, the fiercest warrior in all the land.  It was her virtue her sister would be concerned with and with appearances.  Not that anyone would ever question Daenal’s purity, her integrity was something she valued, above all else. It was the fact that the elder sons from all the surrounding clans were there to compete for her hand. To give the impression that she was less than noble in the presence of Jamie Burke could pose a problem for them all.

She moved close against the wall of the cave, careful to make as little noise as possible until she reached the jutting rock. She fit just behind it, almost as if it were created and situated there just for her. It was dark and the shadows cast about the cavern further disguised her presence. She knew the dragon could most likely smell her, and it would also know she had nowhere to go, but right now, she had no intention of being the focus of attention. Especially since whatever was in the back of the cave, was moving towards her now, towards the mouth of the cave, no doubt to meet the dragon upon its arrival.

It had to be another dragon, although her senses told her it was small and most likely ill. Her gift was sometimes a curse, and she knew that whatever it was, it was not whole, it was suffering and it needed help. Was this why she had been brought here? Had the dragon sensed somehow that Daenal could assist with healing?
Surely not. These barbaric creatures couldn’t have that kind of intuition.

The loudest screech she had ever heard announced the arrival of the dragon that had taken her. The brush of its wings against the falling water sent sprays of liquid in every direction, soaking the ground in the cave, the walls and Daenal in the process. Yet, she remained still and soundless. She wiped back a loose sprig of drenched hair to clear her vision.

A thud felt under her feet alerted her that the space she shared with the “other” was closing in. It was half-running, falling, tumbling in her direction. Her blood pressure shot up and the hair on the back of her neck straightened as if drawn away by some magnetic force.

It returned with a loud screeching sound, and tumbled, head over feet, over wings, towards the mouth of the cave, nearly falling over the side into the waterfall, before being caught up in the wings of the elder Dragon. Daenal watched in awe as the creatures greeted each other warmly. The large dragon was visibly affectionate with the smaller, and the smaller dragon was clearly dependent and clinging to the older.  It was then she noticed something in the clutches of the older dragon’s talons. It was a large hare, food for its offspring, she presumed. Before thinking, Daenal let out a loud sigh of relief, perhaps she wouldn’t become a meal, after all.

Or would she? It only took a moment to forget where she was. Only one moment to make a simple sound in the wrong place. Only one moment before she was standing face to face, and looking into the glowing red eyes of the largest, most frightening creature she had ever encountered.  The earth swam beneath her feet, and Daenal closed her eyes, afraid to imagine what would happen next.

***

She could feel the rough calluses on his left hand as it followed the line of her spine from top to bottom.  The night air was cool, but the fire kept the simple cottage warm enough. Incense burned from atop the side table and her breath blew visibly, moist air mixed with the remnants of the last of the red wine they had shared.  She sighed a most contented sigh and rolled over to look her lover in the eye. Sweeping her long black hair behind her, she pulled the thin linen bed sheet up and around her bosom and shivered for dramatic affect.

“Kurt,” she whispered, “Aren’t ye needed at the council meeting?”

“Aye,” he replied softly, as he kissed her on the forehead. “But I ken they can wait a bit yet,” he chuckled as he playfully tugged at the sheet which was tucked tightly under her arms.

“Kurt,” she repeated, mockingly slapping away his hands in protest. “Ye’ll wear me out mon. Are ye making up for lost time?” she teased.

“Aye, I reckon so,” the former priest bantered back at her. “But can ye blame me, me love? Ye denied me ever so many years ye see.  And for what?” he asked, tipping his nose down and tightening his forehead to make it appear he was most definitely serious.

“Kurt,” she replied, “ye know why as well as I do. And for heaven’s sake, ye were a Catholic priest!”

“Say it one more time, love, before I go,” he pleaded. “Ye know I need to hear it again.” This time his voice took on a different tone. It was melancholy and low, almost desperate. She knew she would never be able to make up for the lost time or the heartache she had caused him. She also knew he had forgiven her, long ago. Perhaps even before some of the treacherous and horribly traumatic events of her life had unfolded, engulfing everyone around her, even those she had dared to love in secret.

“I love ye Kurt, I always have.” A tear threatened to spill down her cheeks, but he caught it with his thumb and wiped it gently away.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, love. I don’t think this should take very long. There isn’t much help I can be when it comes to the business of dragons.”

“No doubt they will want to question me as well,” she added. Her blood pressure shot up at the thought of being brought before the council again. How many times could she explain her situation, what had happened and beg for forgiveness, clemency, mercy even? How could she convince them that she wasn’t really the person they thought she was? She had been a victim of circumstance and a tool for an evil, depraved individual from whom she was lucky to have escaped. But for now, she was the scapegoat, the whipping boy, the one person everyone could place their hatred upon justifiably in their minds and for now she would just have to let that be.

She had Kurt, and that was more heaven than she ever thought she would see. They were to be married, as soon as he had secured a cottage of their own, and she would try beyond words to make a life with him. A life. The thought of being married and having a home and maybe children, even at her age, as boring as that sounded, was like a sweet melody to her ears. For all the adventure, she had experience prior had brought heartache and trauma. She patiently waited for the day when those past events were no longer at the forefront of her mind. She knew she could somehow forgive and forget, she just wasn’t so sure her new community could do the same.