Defiance (The Priestess Trilogy) (21 page)

Nightfall
was quickly taking over as the sun sank
deeper
beneath the horizon.
The din of battle gradually faded away as they
made their flight
from Caher Dearg
, a heavy quite settling around them.
The darkness of the woods gave off a threatening feeling that even began to make Odhrán feel unease.

Pain laced through his side
persistently
, reminding the Milidh man he still had a gaping wound that needed tending to. Releasing
Shiovra
’s
hand, Odhrán clutched his side tightly. Blood had long stained his tunic
, making it cling to his wound
.
He would bear the pain, needed to bear it, until they were a safe distance away.

“Your wounds need tending to.”

Odhrán turned to look at the priestess and found that she had come to a pause. “Not until we are a safe distance away,” he said firmly. “Caher Dearg is still a threat.”

“Then
we
will remove that threat,”
Shiovra
snapped. She turned and began to walk back towards the village.

“What are you doing?
!
” he demanded
angrily, grabbing her arm.

Frowning, the
priestess
tugged her arm free. “
T
each
ing
Méav a lesson!” she answered shortly
.

Odhrán
seized her arm once more
.

She cast him a sidelong glance
, her words spoken through gritted teeth,
“
Either help me or r
elease me.”

H
e
cursed under his breath and released her arm. They would both be risking much in their weakened states, the threat of danger still lingering.
Exhaling,
Odhrán
dropped down to a knee and brought his hands to the ground.
It began to throb and shudder beneath his palms.

All around t
hem the wind picked up, moaning as it wove through the trees.
A deep thunder sounded, like a growl that was ripped from the very center of the earth.

“Now,” said
Shiovra
.

Pushing his hands forward a bit
, the ground
suddenly
heaved like a restless sea
towards Caher Dearg
. And immense groaning resound
ed from deep beneath the ring-fort. Blue flames sprung to life, consuming the village.

Beside him, the priestess brought a hand up. “You will submit, Méav!”

L
ightning crackled in the sky, clawing
viciously
at Caher Dearg while t
he
outer wall trembled, the thick logs threatening to topple over
. The earth heaved, sending cottages crumbling down into broken heaps
. Thunder clapped in a deafening roar
.
The wind gathered strength, shrieking as it slammed into Caher Dearg.

And, as suddenly as the onslaught had begun, it quickly ended when the ring-fort finally broke, falling in defeat. An utter and complete silence followed.

Shiovra
sagged to her knees b
eside him, breathing heavily.

Odhrán straightened, wincing as pain rippled through his side in protest of the movement
. “Are you all right?” he
asked, looking the woman over. He could see she had exhausted a great deal of her strength, as had he
.
The paleness in her face concerned him.

“Aye…” she replied.

With a grunt, Odhrán clambered to his feet and pulled the woman to her own. “We need to get moving,” he told her. “We cannot be sure that huntsmen did not escape Caher Dearg’s downfall.
”

Shiovra
nodded quietly,
grabbing his arm and swi
ng
ing
it over he
r shoulders for support. She
then wrapped her arm about his waist to help. “Let us make haste then.”

With a painful exhale, Odhrán began to walk deeper into the black woods
.
Their pace was terribly slow, burdened by his wound and the lack of moo
nlight to illuminate their path
.
The forest was far too quiet
; t
here
were no shouts on the wind, n
o call of
animals, o
nly utter quiet.

Odhrán
took a moment to pause, closing his eyes against a wave of pain.

“We should stop,”
Shiovra
suggested anxiously
.

Opening his eyes, he shook his head.
“N
ot
until we are
safe…” he breathed roughly
,
taking a step forward
. “We need to get out of here.”

“No,” the priestess
said firmly,
tightening her hold on his waist and keeping him from moving
,
“
not until I bind your wound. You have lost too much blood as is
.”

Exhaling painfully
, he
nodded.
Pulling
his arm from her shoulders
, Odhrán moved to lean
against a tree.
He knew they should not stop, but the priestess was right. He had lost too much blood and if it was not tended to, he would not survive.
“Aye…give me just a moment…”
Grabbing the hem of his tunic, he began to pull it up.

Shiovra
reached a hand towards him.
“Let me help…”
she began.

“No.”
The harshness to his tone made
Shiovra
pull back. Odhrán tugged his tunic off and looked down to inspect his injury. The wound Cúmhéa had given him looked angry, a piece of his tunic embedded within it. From the corner of his eye, he saw
Shiovra
approach carefully.

The priestess bent down to look
the wound
over
c
arefully. “I need to remove this,” she told him quietly.

Closing his eyes
,
Odhrán braced himself. He heard the priestess take a breath and release it before she tugged the cloth free
. Od
hrán winced, cursing Cúmhéa thoroughly under his breath.
Opening his eyes, he found
Shiovra
tearing the hem from the tunic she wore.

Hesitantly, she began to bind his wound with gentle and deft hands.

Odhrán
leaned against the tree, every breath painful. He watched her face as she wrapped the makeshift bandage about him.
Worry knit her brow and locks of her red-gold hair clung to her face. When she finished securing the binding, he shifted and pulled his bloodied shirt back on.

Blue eyes suddenly snapped up to meet his. “Odhrán…”

“Thank you,” he said in a low voice
. “We have to move
on.”
Though Caher Dearg lay in ruins, he refused to take the risk. More distance needed to be placed between them and the ring-fort before he would be willing to rest
.

Shiovra
only watched him with a
guarded gaze.

Odhrán held his
hand out to her
. “Come
,” he
urged
, voice hard. “They are still after us, those that have survived.”

Her eyes looked from his bloodied hand to his face before she took a step back
.

He could see it in her eyes: fear. A short laugh escaped him.
“You are afraid of me
now
, are you not?” he
asked in a low tone
.
Odhrán could not blame her. He was one of the Milidh, a clan know
n
for their dangerous lust for war and revenge. She hated him and now even feared him.
It would be far more difficult to gain the woman’s trust than he had initially thought. 

Shiovra
remained
still, but did not speak.

Odhrán looke
d away. “I can
understand
your fear
,” he told her in an even tone
. “It is only natural y
ou would have a difficult time trusting
m
e. The alliance between our clans is a strained one at most
.” He paused. “But
, a
ll that matters at the moment is getting a safe distance away
.”

The priestess remained silent
.

“I made a promise not only to the chieftain of Dún Fiáin to protect you, but to your brother as well,
” he
told her firmly
, eyes remaining on the trees to his left. “
Once we reach Dún Fiáin
you can do with me as your wish
, but till then
…just trust me.”

“Aye.
”

Odhrán
turned at her voice. She met his gaze unwaveringly, her hands clenched tightly together
. He could still see fear in her eyes, but she seemed to have calmed herself a bit. “We have a long way to go still.” Turning, he began to lead the way once more.
Odhrán could hear her following closely behind.

He continued to keep the pace slow, a heavy silence settling between them. Thunder rumbled lowly in the distance and the scent of oncoming rain hung heavily in the air, promising further hindrance to their escape. They had not gotten far before slight movement ahead of them caught his attention.

Leaning against the tree with blood streaming down his face was
Daire
.
At his feet lay his bow, quiver, and blood covered sword.

Odhrán cursed in response and quickened his pace.

“
Daire
!” cried out
Shiovra
, running past him to her cousin’s side.

“
Shiovra
…”
Daire
breathed
weakly
. “
I have been waiting
…I was about to fall asleep…the two of you took…so long…” His voice trailed off as h
e slumped to the ground
.

Shiovra
began calling the man’s name out frantically,
“
Daire
!
Daire
!”

Crouching down beside the woman, Odhrán helped
Shiovra
roll
Daire
onto his back.

The priestess bent over her cousin, bringing an ear to his chest then placing a hand near his nose. “He lives…
” she breathed in relief
.
Shiovra
shook the man roughly. “
Open your eyes,
Daire
! You need to open your eyes!”

“I’m only resting…” groaned
Daire
.

“You can rest later,”
countered
Odhrán. “If you slip into unconsciousness now, you just might not wake again.” He helped
Shiovra
pull the man into a sitting position.

The priestess threw the bow and quiver over her shoulder before turning back to her cousin.
“Come,
Daire
,”
Shiovra
said gently
. “
We have to get out of here
.
”

After securing the man’s sword on his belt, Odhrán helped
Shiovra
bring
Daire
to his feet together
.
Daire
’s protest went
unnoticed
.

“
Heed your cousin’s words
.
We need to keep moving,
”
instructed Odhrán, ignoring the strain on his own wound.

With his arms flung around their shoulders,
Daire
allowed himself to be led through the woods.
The man’s
breath
ing was labored and pain was written clearly across his face
.

“Ah…!” he hisse
d
. “Walk more slowly, please…”

Thunder rumbled once more and lightning flashing in the distance, briefly illuminating the woods around them. Not long after r
ain began to fall, lightl
y at first, then quickly turning
into a
vigorous downpour
.