Pagan Fire (27 page)

Just beyond the circle of men and fire were Seelie and Dylan. Her friend and her love, tied to an ancient and gnarled oak that hung like a canopy over them. Seelie’s face was drawn, as if she were holding her lips tightly together to keep from crying out.

Dylan was motionless, his head resting on his chest.
Is he still breathing?
Maere felt for certain her own heart stopped beating for an instant.

Eugis took a torch from one of his men and stepped up to the altar. “I call on the father, the brother, the great god of the forest,” Eugis said, raising the torch high.

Maere slowly turned to face him. His empty hand was still outstretched, waiting for hers. She met his eyes. “Let them go,” she said quietly.

“Your hand!”

“Let Seelie and Dylan go and I will do whatever you ask of me.”

Eugis’s eyes narrowed. He handed the torch back and strode over to Dylan. He slapped the unconscious man across the face. Dylan stirred. Eugis grabbed a handful of black hair and yanked his head up.

“Maere?” Dylan’s voice was a ragged whisper.

In one swift movement, the sharp point of the ceremonial knife was piercing Dylan’s neck. Tiny drops of blood formed and glistened in the torchlight. Dylan grimaced.

“Stop it!” Maere said. “Harm him and you’ll get nothing from me.”

“I believe I’ll get everything from you. Perhaps even more,” Eugis said. He released Dylan’s head, wiping the thin blade on Dylan’s sleeve. The younger man dropped back into unconsciousness as Eugis returned to the altar. “When will you realize you are in no position to bargain, Maere?”

Eugis reached across the stone and grabbed her left hand. With a swift movement, he sliced across Maere’s palm. Shocked, Maere tried to pull her hand away, but Eugis was prepared, and held on tight. He sliced his own left palm and placed it on hers, mingling their blood. He smiled as it pooled on the altar, soaking the center of the cloth, radiating out along the spiral toward the edges.

Eugis whispered, “Our marriage bed.”

Maere’s cheeks grew hot. She looked over at Dylan.
Sweet Mother, should he awaken . . . He cannot watch this.

“At the very least, have the decency to remove your men from this place,” she hissed. “And Dylan.”

“Do you not know that when a king beds his wife there must be witnesses to her purity?”

“You are not a king and I am most certainly not your wife.” She nodded toward Seelie and Dylan. “I am only your whore tonight, and only to save these two.”

“Well, if a whore you be, then there is no need for propriety, is there?” Still clasping her bloody hand, Eugis pulled her onto the altar.

Seelie struggled against her bindings. “Do not do this!” she pleaded.

Maere looked at her. “Please. I beg you. Look away.”

“Nay, we’ll have none of that. I want all to see my prize.” Eugis motioned to the guards near Seelie and Dylan. “Bind their foreheads to the tree that they might better enjoy the sights before them.”

Then, with a quick flick of the
athame
, the cloth at Maere’s breasts parted, revealing a valley of milky flesh. Another flick, and her belly was laid bare, her clothing and undergarment cut clear through. Still another flick and one shoulder of her robe fell away.

Embarrassment flooded Maere, but she held her ground and stared at Eugis, making no attempt to cover herself. She heard Dylan’s groan. Was he awake? No, she would not allow herself to look in his direction. Better to give Eugis what he wanted and be done with this madness. It was because of her that her parents were dead, it was because of her that Dylan’s father was gone. Abbess Magrethe too. All were dead because of her.

“You would torture me this way? I’ll not give you that joy, Uncle.” As she spoke, she yanked her robe down from her shoulders, letting it fall away from her body, leaving only what was left of her shift.

“Still trying to rule this ceremony, I see.” He shook his head and leaned toward her. “What of this power of yours I’ve heard so much about? Where is it now that you need it?” Eugis gestured to the man at his left, who came forward and handed his master a bronze cup in the shape of a horn. Eugis swirled the liquid around, chanting. “Perhaps your power knows I am your true mate and therefore it will not harm me. We’ll soon find out.”

Maere recalled Morrigu’s words. “You would poison me, then? Am I to be shocked? If so, know that I am not.” As strong as her words were, her courage was waning. Where was her power this night? Why would it not come forward? “Truth be told, there is nothing you can do that would surprise me any longer.”

“Nay. Not poison.” He made a sweeping gesture around the circle. “You see, I’ve promised my good followers that you would be their reward for helping me this night.” He gestured with the cup. “This will only relax you. And bind that tongue.”

The man who had brought her to the clearing grabbed her jaw and forced her mouth open. Eugis held the cup to her mouth, trickling the potion down her throat, smiling as she choked and swallowed.

A strange warmth spread through her. It touched her head, her belly, her legs. Maere struggled against the potion. She couldn’t focus. Her limbs grew heavy, as did her head. Panic ran through her as she suddenly recalled her mother and father’s behavior the night they were murdered. Eugis must have given them the same potion, made from mistletoe.

“There, now. You’re feeling more relaxed, aren’t you?” Eugis took a step forward and caught Maere as she swooned. He gently lifted her and laid her out on the bloodied linen. Chanting, he cut the wrist bindings and straightened her arms down at her sides. In a singsong voice, he beckoned the god of the forest, Robin, the green man, Jack-in-the-Woods, calling them to him by every name sacred. As he called forth the Horned One, he walked to the foot of the altar and took hold of Maere’s ankles. With one swift motion, Eugis yanked her legs apart. Maere had no power to fight him.

He grinned. “Now we can truly begin.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Dylan sat at the sturdy old table in Aethelred’s cottage in the forest, a cup of broth in front of him.  He raised the cup to his mouth, the scent of onion and herbs filling his being as surely as the warm liquid would.

As he made to drink, a gnarled hand darted in front of him, knocking the cup to the floor. “What?” Dylan stammered, leaping to his feet. He looked up and there she was: his mentor, teacher, mother, friend. Aethelred’s face was even more lined than he remembered and her dark eyes bore into him.

“Nothing better to do, boy, than sit around and feed yourself?” she asked, her stare fixed on him.

Dylan glanced around the room. It was as tidy as ever, a warm fire burning in the hearth, drying flowers and herbs hanging from the beamed ceiling. “Is there something you wish me to do for you?”

She simply continued to look at him. Dylan shifted nervously. What could she possibly want? Then it dawned on him. He’d been away for a long time and hadn’t greeted her properly. He held his arms out and took a step forward. “You’re wanting a hug, I see.”

A wooden spoon appeared in her hand and, before Dylan could blink, Aethelred swatted both of his hands with it.

Dylan yelped. “What did you do that for?” he asked, rubbing his knuckles.

“You are supposed to be rescuing your betrothed. Not hiding away in a useless dream!”

Dylan froze. He remembered. Maere. He had to save her. As the vision of Maere’s face filled his mind and heart, that of the cottage and Aethelred faded. He slowly opened his eyes to the muffled cries of his beloved. Eugis was hovering over her, his men huddled close around them, the light of the torches casting an uneven glow.

Seelie whispered, “Are you awake?”

Dylan’s head ached. He tugged at the rope and realized they were bound to the remnant of an old tree. Dylan stilled his mind and body, letting all thoughts take flight, and opened up to the tree. The energy imprint left behind swirled through him, healing his wounds, strengthening his awareness.

“Can you hear me?” a deep voice whispered to him.

“Aye, tree, I hear you well.”

“I’m not a tree, man. Have they taken your senses?”

Dylan turned his head slightly. It wasn’t the tree speaking to him, but a tall Northman instead.

Bleary-eyed from the mistletoe, Maere stared over Eugis’s shoulder as he towered above her. “Nimue,” she whispered to the bright moon. “Nimue.”

An owl hooted in the distance. Once. Twice. A third time. Each sound moving closer and closer to the clearing. “She answers,” Maere murmured. “Thrice. Someone will die.”
‘T’will be me.

No fight left in you?

Maere’s head lolled to the side.

You can defeat him.

“Nay. ‘Tis too late.” She forced her gaze to her uncle and watched his motions as if in a dream. “Even now, he rips off his garments. And mine.”

You are weak. I should have left you to die in the chapel fire.

Maere swiped at her ear. “Leave me be. I’ll die as my betrothed is even now dying. At least then we will be together.”

You would see Eugis win?

Winning. Losing. In the end, it matters naught.

From somewhere in the dark, a sharp slap stung Maere’s cheek. She opened her eyes. Eugis’s dark form was almost on her, readying to rut like a wild animal and take everything.

Another slap and her head snapped to the other side. But her eyes were open this time and it wasn’t Eugis who had hit her.

“Who taunts me so?” Maere cried out. “Who has struck me?”

Here girl. Look here.

Maere followed the voice. There, beyond Eugis and his men, right outside the edge of the gathering . . . “Morrigu?” she gasped. A shadowy figure stepped from behind the goddess. Jorvik! How could it be?

Eugis’s head snapped up. “Morrigu?”

“Here, old man.” In the blink of an eye, the goddess had moved and was now standing next to Eugis, leaning against the altar. She toyed with a strand of Maere’s hair, wrapping it around her index finger.

 “I knew you wouldn’t stay away.” Eugis smiled. “I knew you’d come back to watch the deed.” He poised himself for entry. One quick shove and all the power he’d ever dreamed of would be his. His! Then Morrigu would worship him.

“I think not,” she sniffed, reading his thoughts. “That is not the way it works. When you seek to become as one with the gods and goddesses, there is a price to pay. ‘Tis the way it’s always been, will always be. You above all others should know that.”

Eugis froze as his mind raced. Had she not encouraged him to seek out his niece? To make a bid for power? “Let me finish here and then I’ll worship you as you deserved to be worshipped.” He forced what he hoped was a calm expression. “I will love your body with the fullness of my passion.”

Morrigu smiled her thin sharp smile. Eugis had seen that look before. There was little time before she would make good on her threat. He must have Maere’s power now. He made ready at her entry, tightened his buttocks and shoved his hips forward.

“No!” Dylan’s voice pierced the night sky. The dead oak to which he had been tied sprang to life in an instant, expanding and snapping Dylan’s bindings. “No!” he shouted again. The oak tipped forward, spreading its branches around the altar, blocking Eugis’s men. They fought against the tree, but it held them fast out of the way. Except for one who would not be stopped: The Viking.

Jorvik parted the way with his heavy sword, the glow of torchlight reflecting on the tip of the metal. He entered the circle and the oak closed behind him once more. He bounded forward, toward the altar, ignoring Dylan’s shouts. Ignoring the goddess, who had turned her seductive smile toward him. He struggled to see past the few of Eugis’ followers who were still gathered near the altar.
By Odin!
Would he get to her in time?

Morrigu pulled her attention from the broad shoulders and shining blond hair of the Northman and returned it to Maere. The young woman shrieked in pain as Eugis penetrated her. Morrigu smiled again. Yes, he would get his due. With the act, Maere would now come into her power and find its control.
Stupid man. He did not know the legends as well as he claimed to know them.

The goddess waved her hand, and the young woman fully awakened.

Chapter Thirty Seven

Clarity returned to Maere as if a heavy veil had been lifted from her mind. The spirits of all those women who had come before her, those who had been born under the triple sign of the goddess, surrounded her. Drawing strength from them, she was born anew. The pain of her encounter, though fresh, was slowly replaced by a sense of triumph.

“Stop,” Maere hissed. The fire within her sparked and grew, fueled by these spirits, fueled by her anger and pain. She kicked at her uncle and the man tumbled off her, falling to the ground. Maere sat up and her power filled her. She swung her legs and slid off the altar. She took a step forward and the bright light of her strength glowed from within.

She turned her head slightly to acknowledge Dylan, Jorvik, and Seelie as they entered her presence. Jorvik took a step back and bowed his head. She looked down and realized she was glowing, lit from within by her power.

Dylan pushed past Jorvik, his eyes taking in her torn garments, the blood matted on her thighs. “Eugis has won,” he said. He pulled off his cloak and wrapped it around Maere’s shoulders. “Let us leave this evil place, my love.”

Eugis scrambled to his feet and drew himself up straight. “She will not leave.” He gestured toward her still exposed bloody thighs. “As you can see, she is mine now.”

Maere trembled with anger. She was her own woman, in charge of her fate, not to be controlled by any man. She knew that now. She took a shuddering breath. The spark within her fanned, growing into fire, fully evolved. She felt more alive this moment than she had since she was a small girl, since before Mama and Papa were murdered.

Murdered.

She drew her shoulders back and stabbed a finger at Eugis. He screamed and skidded across the ground, slamming into one of the stone pillars. He forced himself up and raised an answering hand toward her. A wave of magic touched her. It wasn’t strong, though. Not like hers. With a flick of her wrist, she raised him off the ground. Higher and higher he traveled, his eyes wide with terror. His fear mattered not. She’d see to it he could not harm her again. See to it he could harm no one else she loved.