Chapter 10 #3
He was awake. He turned to her.
“A dream?” he whispered. “We’ll find the truth, we’ll survive, and we will do all that we are commanded to do. Don’t be afraid.”
“Tonight, I’m not afraid,” she whispered back.
She gently touched his cheeks, running her fingers down the fine line of his sculpted face, her fingertips teasing.
He reached out, frowning, but pulled her closer, his eyes upon hers with a question.
And, she thought, with hope.
His lips touched hers, a brush at first, a whisper. Then his mouth formed over hers and his kiss seemed to send spirals of sensation, pure magic, throughout the whole of her body. Deeper and deeper the kiss became and his hands moved down the length of her back, stroking . . .
They were both suddenly filled with an urgency and they seemed to find it difficult to stop touching one another long enough to shed their clothing.
And yet it was gone . . . piece by piece.
His fingers moved over her flesh, stroking so softly, teasing, grower bolder, more intimate . . .
And she could not touch enough, fingers over his shoulders, down his back, her lips moving over the breadth of his chest, finding his lips again, his shoulders, chest again, lower, the ripple of his muscles beneath her every caress something that heightened her desire to ever greater lengths.
And in turn, his touch, his caress, his kiss, the whisper of his tongue against her flesh . . .
A magic as sweet as any silver mist that ever touched the air.
Their intimacy grew, greater and greater, sensation rising with the beauty of a striking blue cloudless sky enhanced by a sweet silver mist, the emerald green of the isle, the fiery passion of the sea in the midst of a storm . . .
And they were together, joined as one, moving with that passion, incredulous just to be a part of one another, of the desire, the urgency that seemed to soar with both desperate need and the desire to go on forever and ever.
Until it seemed that the silver exploded, the world of reality and of magic, a sensation shocking and beautiful beyond all else, except for the warmth, the feeling of being held, of holding someone in return as they drifted downward together, entwined still in this feeling, not just the sensation but in the knowledge of their hearts and souls entwined with what was dream, what was real . . .
Held, secure and treasured, cradled in such sweet security, she slept.
In the morning, she woke with a start.
She was in her own bed. Fully clothed.
A gasp escaped her, unheard, of course, since she was alone.
It had been a dream! She was shocked, of course. Young women of good moral fiber did not have such intimate and erotic dreams.
But it had been so damned real!
Real like so many of the dreams she’d had since she’d seen the shimmering vision during the attack. Yet it had led to her finding the incredible sword that had saved her life then, and again as they traveled the country.
And the cauldron and then . . .
Is it a dream of something that was to come?
She gave herself a serious mental shake. Rising, she donned her weapons belt with her sword and knife and found the bowl of water, which had been left for her to wash.
She had to shake off her dream.
It was going to be a long and trying day. And she reminded herself that she had been eager, that she was anxious to travel the passages again with Cillian, Daniel and Kylin, of course, to determine what all their actions would be.
Prepared for the day, she headed for her door. As she reached it, there was a knock upon it and she opened it, certain that it would be Kylin.
But Daniel stood there, looking at her anxiously.
“I hope that I did not wake you, but Cillian has determined that we must start on our missions for the day,” he said.
“You didn’t wake me, Daniel. I was on my way out as you knocked. And if I know Kylin, he—”
“He’s right here,” Kylin said, leaving his quarters behind and joining them. He looked at her with a strange, curious expression, but then said quickly, “Daniel, we’re ready and grateful. Anxious that we all begin.”
“Cillian said that we’re to meet him in the great hall.
There is no sense starting out on a long day without sustenance to see us through,” Daniel told them.
“We will eat quickly and be on our way. From the great hills, it’s easiest to travel straight through to the ard-rí, thus we’ll not be returning.
There are ten warriors who will join us after we have explored the hills and the passageways. ”
“Aye, that is a good plan these days,” Kylin murmured. “Shall we, then?”
They headed to the great hall where Cillian was already waiting. He was alone, and Deidre found herself chastising the rí.
“Sire! There may be danger anywhere!” she told him. “Don’t forget, please, you were attacked in your own hall!”
“But I will not be attacked again. Not here,” he assured her. He smiled at her, not angry, which he might have been, but apparently pleased that she was worried about him.
“Aye,” he said gravely, “there may well be a traitor, but not among my people. We are very close to the ard-rí. I have not been approached to make any agreements with anyone and my people are happy. We have been happy. We honor Declan as our ard-rí, a fair man who gives much and asks little.”
“But, sire!” she exclaimed. “We have been set upon time and time again and we don’t know where—”
“The men who attacked you on your journey here were Northmen. We found certain objects among their belongings—northern steel, emblems . . . They are those who, if our summations are correct, have slipped through by the coast to the rivers, a preliminary force meant to cause havoc. Nay, frankly, meant to kill you and Kylin and stop you from spreading word and creating defenses. Lass, I worry that you and Kylin take to the trail too often on your own!”
“We are wary, vigilant . . . and . . . um,” Kylin stuttered, wincing, “good and skilled at fighting for our lives?”
“And still you may not escape unscathed the next encounter.”
“Perhaps we are protected by the ancients,” Kylin said lightly. “And now, sire, we are with you and your warriors. Yet we all know that we must do what we do because this attack will come and—”
“Right,” Cillian said. “Eat! Bread, meats, fish . . . all is laid out. We will travel lightly and must be prepared for the length of the day and what lies ahead.”
They ate. Deidre tried not to look at Kylin.
She couldn’t forget the intimacy of their dream, of her behavior!
Soon enough, they were ready to leave. Grooms had tended to their mounts through the night and brought Cillian’s great warhorse and Daniel’s, too, to the front of the great homestead where they mounted up.
“Not everyone knows of the entries to the passageways,” he told them.
“Through time, of course, through hundreds of years, the passages have changed. Some have closed by nature, some have been reopened. I suspect they will continue to change as time rolls on and on, be it for man, the gods or something new to come. There are three main entrances to the area we need. I believe that we’ll now take the western passage, and I can show you where warriors can await, ready to spring forth when others descend upon us.
They will come, I believe, from the south and the east. We will guard the eastern entrance with the least number of forces.
From the west, we will have a clear view of the great valley that stretches before the rise of the hills, and it will be our vantage point.
You will see now what I’m saying and tell me if you believe that I am right. ”
They left the horses upon a great hill.
It had been a long time since Deidre had come here and she didn’t see the entrance at first.
It was hidden by a clump of rich, long grasses and low-lying brush. But Cillian bowed to Daniel leading the way, protection before him, just as Deidre and Kylin came behind him, watching the rear.
“No enemy will show their faces today,” Cillian told them. “My people are honest!”
Daniel had a torch, lighting the way as they moved deeper and deeper into the darkness.
She could see that there were torches that could be lit, set into the earthen walls, set there, she knew, for feast days, when they honored Father Patrick and his faith and also gave credence to what had been in the past.
Cillian had paused to show Kylin what seemed to be a room beneath the earth along the passage. Daniel had walked into it, explaining that once, he believed, it had housed ancient dead, now long part of the earth.
She stood alone in the passage, their one torch a distance away.
But as she stood there, it seemed that the darkness turned to silver, and she thought that her fairy creature, beautiful and shimmering, was before her.
And the creature seemed to whisper to her.
“It is here, lass, it is here that the moment will come. But you will have your sword and fear not, Deidre, for he will be at your side, and the magic of peace and goodness will guide you, even through the terror and violence.”
The silver creature spoke quickly . . . and she was gone.
Deidre stood alone in the darkness, once again wondering what was real and what tricks one’s mind might play upon one.
And yet . . .
She had the silver sword.
And thus far, it had proven true.
Just as . . . Kylin had proven to be true.