Dawn Of Desire (10 page)

As Oriana stepped cautiously over the threshold, she felt not a chill, but instead a depth of sorrow so profound it brought a mist of tears to her eyes. She heard but a whisper of the
knowing
, and eager for more, raised a finger to her lips in a plea for silence. She waited a long moment, but all trace of the
knowing
had evaporated as swiftly as dew on a summer morn.

“I’m sorry, I thought there was some insight to be gained, but it has slipped away without revealing itself.”

Egan grabbed a thick fox fur from the bed and draped it around her shoulders. “Perhaps it will reappear later. I brought you here because these chests contain such beautiful gowns. I want you to wear them rather than wait for Ula’s seamstresses to fashion something new. I’ll not listen to your objections, so for once, do not voice them.”

He gestured for her to take a seat on the bed. Once she had, he sat down close beside her. “We also came here to talk where we’d not be disturbed. I’d not anticipated how curious everyone would be about your family, and you were right, we should have created some believable tale to put the questions to rest. That you are an orphan under my protection is the truth, and I will say no more. You mustn’t either.”

Oriana folded her hands inside the silky fur. “The truth, as you describe it, is all I care to reveal, so you needn’t worry I’ll confide more in anyone.”

Torn by a desire to help him as well as protect herself, she drew her lower lip through her teeth and frowned pensively. “We should also have expected someone to have heard about your fight with Duncan. I warned that we’d not heard the last of him.” She rushed on while she still possessed the courage. “Perhaps it’s because I’m not comfortable here, but thus far, I’ve been of little real value to you.”

She appeared so sincerely troubled, Egan again dropped his arm around her shoulders to offer a comforting hug. “From what you’ve told me, a man’s future
is simply revealed to you, but in my case you sense only a terrible danger?”

Filled with a numbing dread, Oriana nodded. “I saw a death, and your father is dead, but the danger still surrounds you. I have tried to see more, but if there is a pathway into that vision, I can’t find it. Perhaps if I knew more of your family.”

Egan considered her request far too reasonable to refuse. “I’ll tell you all I know,” he offered amicably. He released her to hook his thumbs together and fanned his fingers.

“The Dál Cais, like any tribe, began with a single powerful man who became our first king.” He paused to wiggle his fingers playfully. “He sired both sons and daughters, who were equally fruitful, and his descendants spread out to form many clans.

“His eldest son became the next king, and that man’s eldest son followed. If you wish more detail, you’ll have to ask Albyn, for our Druids can recite every name and date, while I’m not expected to learn them. What I do know is that there has been deceit and treachery of every sort imaginable, as there is with any great family.

“That is why I sought you out. So when the day came for me to be king, although I did not expect it to come so soon, I would already know my enemies, no matter how loyal they pretended to be.” He dropped his hands to his knees. “Now, tell me what you think of Bevan.”

“Frankly, I was so frightened that he knew about Duncan, I was unable to do more than tremble.”

Appreciating that grain of truth, Egan searched her face for more. “You still don’t trust me to protect you?”

He was so near, Oriana could smell the scent of the leaves in which he’d lain. The fragrance of the forest clung to his clothes and made her long for home. “If the choice were your own life, no.”

Egan was mystified by her response. “How could it ever come to that? A king might have a dozen mistresses and no one would fault him for it. You were raised by a
mother fearful of discovery, and it is understandable why you took on the same terror. That you are so elusive also preserves your power as a seer. But here, you are merely my woman, nothing more. Don’t allow your mind to create trouble that doesn’t exist.”

Oriana’s expression filled with disbelief. “As if pretending to be your mistress weren’t trouble in itself,” she reminded him.

Egan laughed as he rose and went to open the largest of his mother’s chests. “It’s such a fine day, I’ll forgive you for that unfortunate opinion. Now I want you to have fine slippers as well as lovely gowns. Help me find them so that you may try them on.”

Oriana remained where she sat. She had enjoyed wearing Adelaine’s gowns and felt no hint of disapproval from their original owner, but shoes were another matter entirely. “She must have had a fine lady’s dainty feet. I’ve walked farther than most peasants, and her slippers will never fit me.”

Egan glanced down at the scuffed toes of the slippers peeking out from beneath her gown. “You also have beautiful little feet, Oriana. Now stop being so contrary and come help me search.” He pulled out a pale linen shift edged with lace and tossed it to her. “Look at this. Don’t you need several?”

Oriana caught the soft garment and folded it across her lap. “It’s lovely, but I’ll wear it only while I’m here.”

Annoyed by her continued eagerness to depart, Egan leaned against the trunk and folded his arms across his chest. “I believe I’ll ask Albyn to recite our complete history. It will not only enable you to foretell my relatives’ futures more confidently, but the undertaking will undoubtedly require several years’ time. By then you may have finally ceased threatening to leave me.”

His expression was as dark as his taunt, but unafraid, Oriana set aside the shift to rise and face him. “It isn’t a threat, my lord. I am not your mistress, and I will leave just as soon as the danger to you is past.”

As Egan saw it, the challenge was to again make her beg to stay. He glanced toward his mother’s bed, but swiftly decided that rather than now, the coming night would present a much better opportunity to bind her to him. He waited, half expecting to be called a fool for defying the gods, but the only sound was the familiar distant roar of the sea.

He flashed a charming smile. “We will have to agree upon a mutually satisfactory date. Now come and select a few gowns, while I burrow through all these clothes to find the shoes.”

Oriana breathed deeply. Egan, with his quicksilver moods, was adept at brushing problems aside rather than facing them, and she instinctively knew the habit would not serve him well as king. She scanned the chests and pointed to a small square one.

“I believe Adelaine must have kept her shoes separate from her gowns. Why don’t you open that one?”

“Whatever you say, my lady,” Egan responded with a deep bow. He found the lid a bit difficult to raise, but with increased effort pried it open. Inside there were several pairs of soft suede slippers, some obviously never worn.

As he removed a new pair, out fell a long necklace fashioned of delicate wooden beads linked together by a fine silver chain. A small heart-shaped yellow agate was suspended from the unusual piece. He recognized it instantly and scooped it up from the floor.

“My father carved these beads for my mother when they were courting. They found the pretty stone while walking along the shore. He gave her such beautiful jewelry, but this was her favorite and the only one I recall her wearing.” Without a moment’s hesitation, he dropped it over Oriana’s head.

“You must keep it,” he insisted. “It’s the perfect adornment for a princess from the forest.”

Oriana ran her fingers over the small barrel-shaped
beads. They had been cut from slender twigs and surely it had been Adelaine’s touch which had worn the bark smooth. The pretty necklace weighed no more than a feather and would be a joy to wear.

“Thank you,” she murmured without looking up. “I’ll wear it now, but return it so that your wife may treasure it and pass it along to your first daughter.”

Egan swept her with a perplexed glance. “Are you telling my fortune, or just wishing me a good one?”

“The latter, I’m afraid,” Oriana admitted with an embarrassed laugh.

Egan had always expected to wed, but he had never set his sights on any particular lass because there were so many comely possibilities. He was stunned that the mere mention of a wife now sickened him and, annoyed by the uncomfortable sensation, he continued his perusal of the chests’ contents.

He hoped he would find other trinkets that would prompt pleasant memories. Since he had not seen the necklace in so many years, he was amazed he had recalled its story. Perhaps his father had told it often, or only once with such fervor Egan had been deeply impressed by the love with which the small wooden beads had been carved.

Oriana sat down to try on Adelaine’s slippers. To her immense surprise, like the beautiful gowns, they were a perfect fit. She knew the fact they shared the same size and coloring was merely a coincidence, but in the forbidding fortress, any comfort was most welcome. If the gods had led her there to learn of Adelaine’s existence, though, she wished they would reveal why soon.

That night the great hall was ablaze with the light of a hundred torches. More than a dozen low tables had been set out for the evening meal, and Egan’s kinsmen were streaming around and through them in a careless shuffle. Their many animated conversations produced a low, rolling hum and an occasional burst of raucous laughter
carried above the bard’s lively tunes and the crackling hiss of the enormous fire.

As they neared the wide doorway, Oriana felt crushed by the noise and clung even more tightly to Egan’s arm than she had the previous evening. She recognized Bevan standing with three younger men who resembled him closely, and she assumed they were his sons. She watched them part and join other groups. Indeed, the whole hall was a churning mass of visitors.

Kieran was perhaps twenty feet away and leaning close to speak with a striking young woman whose raven tresses were braided with strands of golden cord. She was clothed in a rich emerald green and stood so close to Kieran that she appeared to rub against his whole length each time she whispered a confidence.

Egan followed Oriana’s glance and explained softly, “That’s Madi. She’s a cousin to Ula and visits often. She’s adored Kieran since they were children.”

Oriana noted the width of Kieran’s grin and thought his feelings for Madi were equally plain. “He appears to return her affection,” she replied.

“Aye, he does. They may wed soon, although I’d rather not have more of Ula’s insufferable kin in residence here. But with Madi so intent upon seducing Kieran, he’s unlikely to seek a wife elsewhere.”

Hoping to ease her dread, Oriana sought out other familiar faces, and Ula quickly caught her eye. Some might have described the tall, slender man by her side as handsome, but while he looked vaguely familiar, it wasn’t at all reassuring. “Who’s that with Ula?”

Egan dipped his head so close to answer, his lips brushed her ear. “That’s Skell; he’s Madi’s father and Garrick’s younger brother.”

Shocked, Oriana’s breath caught in her throat and strange patterns began to form in her mind, but they scattered before she could make sense of the tumbling colors and shapes. “Something is dreadfully wrong here,” she moaned.

Fearing she had taken ill, Egan slid his arm around her waist to steady her. “You didn’t sleep well. Perhaps all you need is an ample meal.”

“No. I can’t stay.” Oriana turned away from him in a vain attempt to avoid his grasp but he caught her arm in a confining hold before she could take a hasty step back through the doorway. “Please, you must let me go. Be on guard tonight, and we’ll speak later.”

At that instant, Egan’s entry was acknowledged with a hoarse shout. A fresh ripple of motion rolled through the hall as the crowd swung toward him. The conversation tapered off to a low hush that became a startled silence as they noted both Oriana’s presence and her obvious reluctance to remain.

Within minutes of her arrival, Madi had appraised the other young women gathered in the hall and dismissed them all as pitifully wanting. She had been supremely confident her beauty was unrivaled until Egan had appeared with a flame-haired stranger dressed in deep lavender. Sensing a most unwelcome threat, she pressed against Kieran.

“Who is Egan’s unwilling companion?” she asked.

“His whore,” Kieran sneered. “She’s an orphan you needn’t befriend. Don’t even deign to speak with her.”

Skell had already heard about Egan’s woman from Ula, but she was far more beautiful than he had been led to expect, and he moved swiftly to his daughter’s side. He slid his hand along her shoulder in a protective caress and insinuated himself between her and Kieran in time to hear the latter’s disparaging remark.

“He’d not dare flaunt a common whore before his family,” Skell chided. “She has the face and figure of a goddess and is obviously highborn. Clearly Egan has forged a secret alliance, and then stupidly believed we would accept a transparent tale about a pretty orphan. You mustn’t dismiss her, my child. She is more dangerous than you can even dream.”

Madi’s glance narrowed to hostile slits. “She’s as
slender as a leaf and undoubtedly fragile. I’m not afraid of her.”

Skell looked over her head to nod at Kieran and was pleased to see just how well the young man understood his warning.

Ever alert to the reactions of others, Egan placed his hand firmly on Oriana’s back to propel her into the hall ahead of him. “You swore to obey me whenever my kin were near. Now do it!” he ordered through clenched teeth.

Oriana recoiled, but she was caught and knew it. She glared a silent curse at Egan, then called upon a lifetime of deception to project the confidence of a queen. She straightened her shoulders, raised her chin, and moved with extraordinary grace while a terror she had yet to name tore at her heart and threatened her very soul.

Egan had known men who never allowed their wives to stray from their sides, possessiveness he had previously found pathetic, but that he now finally understood.

Nothing Oriana did was provocative. To the contrary, she was the least flirtatious woman he had ever met. He had introduced her to his kin with pride, but on every occasion, she had responded with no more than a polite nod and a slight smile. Then, with a demure downward glance, she had retreated from the conversation without taking a single step away.

She was not really his woman, as she oft reminded him, but her lack of interest in impressing his family insulted him nonetheless. She might have been unfazed, but he was acutely aware of the attention she garnered. There was not a man present who did not eye her with open lust, while the women’s furtive glances were filled with dark reproach. Uncertain which was worse, he welcomed the distraction of a fine meal but noticed that Oriana ate nothing and sipped from the same small cup of wine all evening.

When the first of his guests began to yawn, he was inspired to suggest they take the falcons out to hunt at dawn, and that prompted many to retire. He then left Ula and Kieran to entertain those who remained and
exited the hall with Oriana firmly in tow. He heard more than one ribald suggestion as they passed, but because a king was expected to be virile, he stubbornly ignored the crude remarks.

Oriana was deeply grateful that Egan had not told tales of his travels to his guests until dawn, but when they reached his chamber she stepped through his doorway and spun to face him.

“It’s my gift you want, not me, and you shouldn’t have shoved me through that crowded hall. I found the noise nearly unbearable and even if the
knowing
had spoken an eloquent warning, I’d not have heard it over the din.”

Eager for a fight, Egan’s disgusted scowl deepened as he slammed his door and leaned back against it. “I did not once shove you toward anyone, but perhaps you were too distracted to notice how well you were treated.”

He was furious with her, although his voice was as soft as smoke. “You’re also wrong about my not wanting you, and while you’re too willful to admit it, you want me too.”

Aghast at his boldness, Oriana responded with laughter that bordered on a feral howl. “I’ve no control over your wild imaginings, but did you see the same brooding restlessness that I observed tonight? It’s plain in the sly glances passing between the men. If I knew more names, I could better describe a particular individual’s mood, but your whole family appeared to be passing secrets they’d not share with you. That can’t possibly be good.”

Oriana went straight to the fire and grabbed the poker, but she left the half-burnt log untouched. She thought Egan was merely taunting her, but if he turned amorous, she would have only one chance to strike him. She intended to make the blow count.

Her disturbing comments caught Egan by surprise, and he hurriedly latched the door and came toward her. “First my kin were a noisy lot, and now they’re brooding,
restless, and secretive? Did you find nothing to admire about them?”

Although Oriana had been too frightened to dwell on anyone for long, she had swiftly grown bored with tales of long-dead men. “I prefer my own company to that of bloodthirsty Dál Cais warriors seeking new enemies to slay.”

It was now Egan who responded with hoots of laughter. “I’ll scarcely have time to seek new enemies after dealing with the multitudes you’ve undoubtedly insulted here tonight.”

Oriana gritted her teeth. “Do not mock me, Egan. There’s mischief afoot, and when you’ve been left out, it must concern you.”

Her posture was as rigid as the poker in her hand, and Egan wisely kept his distance. “No one was whispering about me, you blind little fool. You were the subject of whatever controversy occurred here tonight.”

As Oriana turned to face him, the poker slipped from her hand and struck the floor with a loud clatter. “But I did nothing to arouse curiosity!”

Egan shook his head in dismay. “Oh, no, you merely cloaked yourself in mystery as darkly intriguing as the night.”

When Oriana sent a confused glance toward the fire, for one terrifying instant he feared she might hurl herself into the flames. He reached her without feeling the steps and gathered her into his arms. She was trembling, and he held her tightly.

“Must I remind you yet again that I’ll protect you? Why do you still doubt me?”

Since she had made a concerted effort to avoid drawing notice, it had not occurred to her that his kin could have been preoccupied with her. For an awful moment she clung to him, and when he brushed her brow with a tender kiss, she bit her lower lip to stifle a grateful moan.

A sharp knock at the door startled them both, but not
enough to prompt Egan to release her. “What is it?” he shouted.

“It’s Albyn. Forgive me, but I must speak with you immediately.”

Egan drew in a deep breath, and held it while he wondered what Albyn could possibly find so urgent. He rubbed his cheek against Oriana’s silken hair, and for a long moment refused to let her go. When he at last slackened his hold, he guided her toward the chair.

“Do not worry so,” he whispered. He waited until she was comfortably seated, and then placed a hurried kiss atop her head.

When he reluctantly opened the door, all Albyn observed was a contemplative young woman seated by the fire and an old friend who could not have been more annoyed.

Albyn shouldered his way past Egan, and mindful of the many guests in the fortress, spoke in a hoarse whisper. “I said nothing tonight, but merely listened, and there’s wild speculation of a secret alliance between you and Oriana’s father.”

Egan swore a particularly inventive oath as he again slammed his door. “For what purpose?”

“The usual,” he said. “To better prey on enemies and increase the size of your kingdom.”

Eager to improve his view of Oriana, Albyn moved toward the center of the room. She had appeared distracted all evening, but he had her full attention now. “Is it mere conjecture or the truth?” he prodded them both.

“Before we returned home, I’d no idea my father had died,” Egan reminded him. “So I’d not be out making alliances on my own. Has no one considered such an obvious fact?”

With an agonizing burst of awareness, Oriana was struck by how quickly her arrival had created a danger in itself. Terrified she had unwittingly fulfilled her own prophecy, she issued a frantic order. “Send Albyn away, now.”

Egan nodded, then broadened his stance and gestured toward the door. “Until dawn, Albyn.”

Dumbfounded by how swiftly Egan had done Oriana’s bidding, the handsome Druid shook his head. “Listen to her! Clearly she’s no homeless waif, but a lady accustomed to giving orders. Don’t you care what’s being said about her?”

“Not in the slightest.” Egan swiped his hand through his hair. “The whole lot were drunk. They’ll not hold such fanciful notions in the morning.”

Albyn noted the anguish in Oriana’s beautiful golden eyes and could not silence a final protest. “No one was too drunk to appreciate Oriana’s beauty and bearing. She’s obviously from a proud family, and her father would not have entrusted her to you without extracting a promise of something valuable in return.”

Before Egan could respond to Albyn’s logical conclusion, Oriana stood to confront him. She dipped her head slightly, unconsciously adopting a threatening pose. “If you are forced to choose between Garrick and Egan, will you be allowed to leave the Druids?”

Completely unprepared for such an alarming challenge, Albyn sent an accusing glance toward Egan, but his old friend shook his head to assure him he had not violated his confidence. Nonetheless, Albyn was deeply disturbed to have his private torment voiced aloud, and by a woman no less.

He was even more firmly convinced Oriana and Egan were hiding her true identity, but what their purpose could be confounded him. Since he had kept no secrets from Egan, he was deeply insulted not to be shown the same respect.

Albyn let his sleeves slide over his hands to hide his clenched fists. “You’ve posed a dangerous question, my lady.”

“As have you,” she replied. “I bid you a good night.”

Albyn hesitated, but with Egan in such a recalcitrant mood, he would not waste his breath further. “Come on
the hunt alone,” he cautioned as he passed by, and while it was an effort, he closed the door quietly behind him.

Once their privacy was again assured, Oriana scanned the chamber, but between the flames and fur-heaped bed, the chair offered the only island of safety. Assailed by a bitter truth, she sank down upon it and clasped her hands tightly between her knees.

“How could I have been so blind?” she moaned. “No one can escape his fate, and by bringing me here, you’ve simply hastened the danger I foretold.”

Not so easily disheartened, Egan knelt in front of her. He parted her hands and placed soothing kisses on her palms. “You’re unaccustomed to crowds,” he offered, “and found the evening unsettling. I should have understood what was enjoyable for me was a tedious ordeal for you. Come to bed. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

Oriana felt the strength in his capable grasp but knew while sincere, he was again gravely mistaken. Her eyes brimmed with tears. “Don’t you understand what’s happened?” she chided. “Rather than proving beneficial, my presence has created the very danger you sought me out to avoid. I’ve brought you only ruin.”

Egan rocked back on his heels, but he was more amused than concerned by her dread. “I’m far from ruined, and you can’t blame yourself for my father’s death.”

That it was even a possibility made Oriana sick clear through. She could not bear his confident glance and focused instead upon their entwined hands. She enjoyed his gentle touch, but feared it came at far too high a price.

Her chest ached when she drew the breath to speak. “It’s said the gods enjoy making sport of mortals’ lives. They could have made you king, all for the fun of using me to destroy you.”

“No,” Egan said emphatically. “Lugh may be a mighty warrior with the sun’s own brilliance, but he isn’t cruel, and he’d never allow you to be used so badly.”

Oriana raised her hand to caress his cheek. He was the
only man she had ever touched with true feeling, and after knowing him, there could be no others. His slight smile was so sweet, she had to close her eyes for a moment. When she looked up, their golden depths reflected the flames’ dancing light.

“You no longer doubt who I am?” she asked.

Egan rose and drew her up into his arms. “No. You’re Lugh’s daughter; you could be no one else’s.”

Although fearing his growing fondness for her had put an end to his skepticism, she rested her head against his chest. Beneath her ear, his heart beat with a slow steady rhythm, while hers was all aflutter. She knew what she longed to do, but what she had to do to protect him was all that truly mattered. When at last she could bear to, she pulled away from his embrace.

“You must marry a woman whose family actually does offer a powerful alliance. It’s what kings do; what they must do to survive. I’ve no warriors to defend you, and if I were to remain here, the controversy about me will surely grow. When you refuse to name my father, your kin will swiftly conclude you’re plotting against them. The ceremony that makes you king has yet to be held. What if another man is chosen? Would he allow you to live?”

Astonished she held so many desperate fears, Egan reached out to encircle her waist, and after encountering only mild resistance, succeeded in pulling her close. He was certain she could feel her affect upon him through her soft woolen gown, but he was not ashamed to be so easily aroused and slid his hands down her back to press her hips closer still.

“Are you now able to see my future with a new clarity?” he asked.

Exquisitely aware of his pride and strength, Oriana hung her head. “No. The
knowing
confides nothing more than a sense of foreboding where you’re concerned, but you’ve told me something of your family’s history.”

Egan shifted slightly to enfold her soft, slender curves
in an even more confining embrace and rested his chin atop her curls. “I intend to be king of the Dál Cais, Oriana, and I’ll rule with the woman I choose.”

“Now who is being willful?” she breathed out against his chest. She slid her arms around his waist and clutched his tunic to hold him with equal strength. He swaggered through life brandishing a broadsword, while she crept along the shadows. They could not have been more different, and yet, for a few glorious moments, she felt safe in his arms. That he was not also safe in hers broke her heart.

Egan forced himself to stand still but it was all he could do not to swing Oriana up into his arms and carry her the few short paces to his bed. He ached to have her and yet remained motionless while she leaned into him. She had always recoiled from his touch, but now that she could at last tolerate a warm embrace, he dared not move and frighten her away.

He closed his eyes to heighten the sensation, no, the havoc, she created within him. No other woman had ever invaded his soul with a single glance. There was an ever present remoteness about her that he sensed masked a deep longing, but he had no hope of satisfying it other than with the generous affection she had always refused. He waited a long while to find words worth speaking.

“What do you know of falconry?” he murmured.

While she rested so comfortably in his arms, his voice surrounded her with a deep, seductive resonance. It was a richly masculine sound, and in its own way, as compelling as Lugh’s song.

“I know only that the hawks are both beautiful and deadly.”
Like you
, she thoughtfully did not add.

Egan stretched slightly to ease the growing tension in his shoulders and began to sift her long curls through his fingers. “We hunt with the gyrfalcon or peregrine. Females are preferred because they’re larger and stronger. It’s best to take them from their nests or aerie and train
them before they’ve learned to fly and hunt on their own. Such a bird is known as an eyas. But a hawk of passage is one caught during migration. It is still young, but having known freedom, is a far greater challenge to train.”