The Mammoth Book of Irish Romance (12 page)

No.
Any diversion could not be.
Ana had been born to the most powerful Druzai clan, and had trained to become a formidable seer on Coruain. She’d been groomed from infancy to take her place as the next Oracle, and was deeply immersed in the process of preparing her body and mind for the grave responsibilities that faced her.

“You are a stranger to Bal ygur,” Rohrke said, and his voice seemed to rumble through her. She wondered if he had Druzai blood, for there was surely some kind of magic in him.

“Aye,” she replied. “From . . . the north.”

He frowned, scrutinizing her careful y. “You come from King Lochlainn Mac Cailein’s realm?” Ana nodded in spite of the lie, startled when he repeated the name Lochlainn. The Druzai high chieftains had certainly left their mark here in Ireland.

“Why have you come?”

She’d anticipated this question, but was unsure how to answer it. Clearly, she could not tel Rohrke she was a Druzai seer who’d foreseen troubles between the Irish clans with vile ol phéists in their midst. She could put a spel upon him, making him accept her as a mere travel er to Bal ygur. But such tactics were unscrupulous, and Ana abhorred trickery.

However, a few smal lies in the interest of preventing the carnage she’d seen would not be amiss. It was Midsummer’s Eve. Surely there were many visitors to Cnoc Áine. “I’ve come to pay respects to the sun goddess.” Her voice sounded strange to her own ears, soft and vulnerable.

“Aye, the solstice,” said the Druid, but Ana had not been able to turn her attention from King Rohrke. He maintained her gaze with dark, piercing eyes that held no trust, no belief in her sincerity. He stood close, and she could almost feel his breath upon her face. His intensity shook her.

Somehow, she managed to answer the Druid with a non-committal shrug. She did not need Rohrke’s approval or his assistance. She alone would discover how the monsters were coming to his realm and deal with them. And she would do it quickly, she hoped. She had no interest in staying away from Coruain and her training longer than absolutely necessary. “I’ve long held Áine sacred, and wanted to come to Lough Gur.”

“You’ve chosen an inopportune year for your visit,” said Rohrke, and Ana heard the tension in his voice. “There is trouble on our borders. Did you not see an army amassing beyond the lake?”

“I did not come from that direction.”

She saw no ol phéists in the vil age. Nor did Rohrke or the Druid seem as unnerved or as hostile as they should have been, had the little demons before influencing them. Ana did not think Rohrke’s clan could be immune. And yet she knew the demons were present somewhere nearby.

There was no mistaking what she’d seen in her vision.

“We are about to go to battle, lass. Perhaps ’twould be best if you returned to . . . wherever it is you’ve come from.”

Before Ana could respond, Rohrke made a gruff sound and strode away towards the stone stronghold.

Ana remained standing beside the Druid, though she found herself drawn to watch the powerful man who walked away so purposeful y. He was as tal as her cousins, with broad shoulders, narrow hips and the most powerful legs she’d ever seen.

But Ana was not one to ogle men, not even the handsome Druzai warriors of Coruain. She would soon make her vow of perpetual chastity, and then even the vaguest thoughts of pairing with any man would be moot.

A pesky
sìthean
– a smal black, leathery creature that had been banished from Tuath many centuries ago – darted into Rohrke’s path. Ana nearly shot it away from him with a burst of magic, but Rohrke sidestepped it as though he’d seen it. Or at least,
sensed
it.

The man could not be any more puzzling to her. As harsh and unfriendly as he seemed, she could not help but remember his kindness to the old woman she’d pretended to be at Cnoc Áine.

Her heart warmed with the awareness that Rohrke would not have al owed her to walk al the way to Clynabroga alone.

She forced herself to turn to the Druid. Perhaps he had the information she sought. “What is the trouble at your border?”

“A neighbouring king,” he replied. “Teague Ó Fionn has made threats of war.”

“For what reason?”

The Druid shook his head. “’Tis unknown. Our clans were friends not too long ago, but al that has changed. And if King Rohrke does not soon wed Sláine Mac Murchada, we wil not have the al ies we need to defeat Teague.”

’Twas just as she’d seen. The silent menace of the ol phéists was pushing the two clans towards battle, and each king would engage more and more al ies until the whole of Ireland was locked in a bloody, devastating war. Men, women and children would be kil ed. Crops and livestock would die and final y the entire isle would be engulfed in famine.

Ana had to find out who control ed the monsters and how they were coming to Ireland from the dim netherworld where they had been banished so long ago. Someone, or something, had freed them, clearly intending to use them to maximize the carnage here.

She did not feel any hint of the malicious creatures now, nor was there any obvious portal for their entrance to the Tuath world. But Rohrke’s presence seemed to have clouded her vision. She took a deep breath and centred her concentration.

The Druid looked at her strangely, and Ana feared he sensed she was not of his world. “Please, my lady, go with him, see if you can talk to him . . .”

Ana complied. If there was anyone who could change the course of the impending war, it was Rohrke Ó Scannláin.

Four

The attraction Rohrke felt for the beautiful stranger was entirely compel ing. And completely unwelcome. He needed al his wits when he faced Maitias Mac Murchada and his daughter, Sláine, for he needed to negotiate the best possible terms for their al iance.

And the marriage.

Rohrke did not wish to see Sláine now. If circumstances were different, he would never consider marrying the lass, not when he’d felt such a sudden and intense desire for Ana Mac Lochlainn.

He’d never reacted so strongly to a woman before, his body sensing her presence without even seeing her, touching her.

He’d left her as quickly as possible, before his body could betray him and cause irreparable damage to his al iance with Mac Murchada. He needed a few moments alone to prepare himself to meet the old King and settle the marriage pact.

A prickle of awareness crept up his spine, a feeling that nearly stopped him from his purpose.

’Twas Ana right behind him – he could feel her without even seeing or hearing her.

Rohrke stopped at the door to his great hal , then turned to face her.

She stood a few paces away, her bearing as regal as a queen’s. Her skin seemed to shimmer in the firelight, and Rohrke took a step towards her. He could not keep himself from touching her.

Ana held her ground, but he saw her throat move as she swal owed tightly. She was no more anxious to be swept up in this untimely attraction than he was, but it was a force they seemed unable to control. “My lord, I must speak to you.”

“Aye,” he said, but in truth, he was in no mood for talk. He reached for her, touching her arm.

When she placed her hand on his, he felt her tremble. “Come with me.” Rohrke led her to an isolated passageway inside, and settled her back against a cold stone wal . He touched her cheek then cupped her jaw with his hand. “You have not said who you are.”

“But I have,” she whispered, and he saw his own longing mirrored in her eyes. “I am Ana—” He dipped his head and brushed her lips with his mouth. She clasped both his arms tightly and he felt her entire body shudder. By the goddess, he wanted her.

“Aye. Ana Mac Lochlainn.” He withdrew slightly. “Why have you come now, lass, when disaster looms about us in every direction?”

She pushed away from him and clasped her hands together. “I know something of your difficulties. I . . . I believe I can help.”

“How?” he asked. She might be smal and feminine, but he sensed a deep strength within her.

Perhaps she
could
help him avert war.

“I can say naught of my abilities, my lord. You wil have to trust me.”

“Trust you?” Oddly enough, he did.

“Aye.”

“What do you need from me?”

“I need to look round Bal ygur. And it would help if your people spoke freely to me, put their trust in me.”

Rohrke scrubbed a hand across his face. “There has been a great deal of mistrust and antagonism among my people in recent days. ’Tis as though we’ve al been sleeping in beds of stinging nettles.”

“’Tis because there are forces that—”

“Now you sound like Sedric. I’ve only one enemy, and his name is Teague Ó Fionn.”
Five

The tingling frustration Ana had felt a moment before increased a hundredfold. Her body felt strange – hot and far more aware than ever before. And it wasn’t entirely due to the presence of ol phéists near Bal ygur. Rohrke unnerved her. “No. You cannot possibly understand al that threatens you.”

She needed to get out and about among the people, and see if she could sense the demons were surely roaming among them. And she needed to put some distance between herself and King Rohrke. It would not do to fal under a sensual enchantment with him.

Ana reminded herself that she had the ability to resist him. To resist any man. She might be young, but she had become a powerful sorceress, tested by one of the most dangerous sorcerers the Druzai had ever encountered. And she was prepared to become her clan’s Oracle, interpreting signs and divining events that would come to pass.

“Are you Druid?” Rohrke asked.

Ana inclined her head slightly. “Of a sort.”

“You are a seer.”

She nodded, unable to lie. “Aye.”

“Where do we need to go? I’l come with you,” he said.

“No!” Ana gasped, in spite of her desire to remain composed. She was having difficulty keeping her gaze from those chisel ed lips that had barely touched hers. She hadn’t known how soft and warm a man’s mouth could be. Or the amazing sensations a mere kiss could cause.

Rohrke came very close, but did not touch her. “I
will
be coming with you, Lady Ana. These are my people, and I’l have no strange Druid walking among them.”

“Suit yourself, my lord.”

“As I am wont to do.”

It was warm, so Ana removed her cloak and handed it to Rohrke. He tossed it over a railing and came alongside her. “Where wil you go first?”

She was unsure. “I came because I saw . . . I’m not sure where to start. There is an evil presence that I hope I’l be able to sense as I walk through Bal ygur. If I can determine how they’re coming in . . .”

She hoped the ol phéists’ entry point would be obvious once she stood close to it. The portal would likely be on the perimeter of the vil age, or in the very heart of it.

“We’l start here,” she said, leading Rohrke from the great hal out to the standing stones that circled the central point of the vil age. Torches burned at the top of each stone, and a circular, cobbled pavement rounded the very centre in an elaborate pattern that reminded her of the beautiful stone mosaics at home.

It looked like the perfect place for a portal, but when Ana reached it, closing her eyes and touching the stones, there was no sense of any malignant beings. In fact, her sensations in the circle felt surprisingly familiar. She opened her eyes to see Rohrke gazing at her intently.

Ana swal owed and stepped away. His presence was distracting. And now the vil agers had taken notice of her, and were starting to fol ow her movements. They did not look happy or content, and she could feel the ol phéists’ influence among them.

The underlying hostility was disturbing, though it wasn’t overpowering. Stil , Ana could not let any of them distract her from her task. Ignoring their dark whispers, she walked the perimeter of the vil age opening her senses and her
sight
for anything that was out of the ordinary.

Her concentration was fierce, and she nearly stumbled once, but Rohrke caught her before she fel . She suppressed her immediate reaction to his touch and resumed her search for the portal.

She examined every crevice and cranny in Bal ygur’s wal s, as wel as the wel s and every other uneven lump in the ground. And stil , she found naught.

“I need a quiet place to . . . to think,” she said, noticing for the first time that the entire vil age had gathered and were fol owing her, whispering quietly among themselves.

Rohrke took her arm and started back towards the keep, but Ana stopped abruptly. “What are they saying? They think I’m—”

“Áine? Yes. They believe you’re the sun goddess.”

Ana clenched her teeth and proceeded to the keep. She would have to disabuse them of such an outrageous misconception. “’Tis not true, you know. I am merely Ana Mac Lochlainn, and I—”

“Merely?”
Rohrke said, his voice low. He took her arm again. “I would hardly use such a dismissive word when speaking of you, Lady Ana.”

His words excited her in a strange way. It was a compliment unlike any she’d ever received before. Her cousins cal ed her a bril iant sorceress. Her teachers said she was a gifted seer.

Compliments had always been about her talents. Never about
her.

Ana looked at him surreptitiously, and a purely feminine thril went through her at the sight of the strong line of his jaw and his straight, narrow nose. His long, thick lashes caused a river of intense heat to shoot through her bones. Her palms started to sweat.

“I . . . I should be alone for this.”

“Not a chance,” he said. “But I won’t intrude on your peace.” Ana sincerely doubted that was possible, but she went along with him to the keep, glancing behind her as the vil agers dispersed. Rohrke led her into the stone fortress, up a staircase and onto the second level. They went into a spacious bedchamber with windows overlooking the standing stones in the centre of the vil age. ’Twas a warm night, so the hearth was cold, but smal torches burned in sconces on each wal . Ana felt comfortable, in spite of the large bed that dominated the room, with a pure white linen sheet covering it.