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Oracle's Curse: Book Three of The Celtic Prophecy Page 16
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The cacophonous crescendo of outrage was silenced suddenly by the banging of Amergin’ staff on the floor. “I hearby dismiss Alexander Malcolm Sinclair, Reliquary, as my proxy. He has served me well in the past and I hereby proclaim his oath fulfilled.”
The Caileach held up a hand silencing the dissidents. “Master Myrddin, yer request is approved, though ‘afore we continue, ye must name a new body for the office.”
“Aye, that I must.” He motioned to the crowd and it parted, “I name Tavish Donald Sinclair ta proxy.”
Chapter 23
“Welcome all ta the Ban Druidh. We will reconvene at sunset for the conclusion of the ceremony. Priestess and Myrddin, prepare yer proxies.”
Brenawyn looked at Amergin expecting guidance, but he thumped his staff on the ground. “Lady of Winter,” he bowed low, “I ask that none be allowed ta leave the confines o’ the meeting chamber.”
“This has never been asked ‘afore, Myrddin. What prompts this inquiry? The incantation o’ the Ban Druidh opens the doorway and makes safe the passage ‘tween our worlds. What makes ye ask that I stay that invitation? T’would be a most grievous insult ta those assembled.”
“T’is no’ insouciant request I ask. I ken the magnitude and ask it all the same knowing that reparations will be sought against my person.”
“Explain yerself.”
“All that come are no’ true o’ heart. Some seek ta subvert.”
“Is that no’ in the minds o’ all who come ta the bargain?”
“If t’were solely ta be the best advantage I’d agree, but this is…something more, something insidious. There is unrest—ye must feel it here, too, in the gloaming.”
Caileach paced, clearly considering his word, “For some time I ha’ felt an uneasiness, a pervasive weight in the air, like a stillness ‘afore a storm. From wence does it originate?”
“I doonae ken, my lady, but stay the invitation til the completion o’ the ceremony a’ dusk.”
“T’would ha’ ta be agreed ta.”
Brenawyn piped up, “I second the mo…”
Amergin interrupted her with a hand, and Caileach turned to her, bowing.
“For this, priestess, yer second is nay acknowledged. The Myrddin’s request must be agreed ta by representatives o’ the Tuatha Dé, the Formor, and the Fir Bolg; two affirmations are necessary, three preferable, if only ta assure nay retaliation will ensue.”
Cernunnos spoke then. “The Tuatha Dé agree ta terms proposed by Amergin Ambrosius, the Milesian Myrddin.”
Caileach tilted her head to acknowledge his second. She turned to the Formor.
“Nay, the Formor doonae agree if the Myrddin cannae gi’ accurate account.”
“So noted, Ruadan.” She pivoted to the Fir Bolg. “One for, one against. What say ye?”
The males conferred, but it was the female who spoke up. “We agree. It matters not, wherst we repose.”
“So say ye.” She clapped her hands. “Each delegate party will be shown ta a separate antechamber.”
Brenawyn turned to rush into Alex’s arms, but he caught her and held her at arm’s length. “Doonae dae this here. There are too many that will note the vulnerability. Amergin bought us time. We mustnae delay. There’s a chance that it can be dealt with quietly still.”
The antechamber they were brought to was approximately size of the one with the hot spring, big enough to house two hundred comfortably. She was ushered in first, followed by Amergin and Alex. They took her directly to the far corner of the room, facing the entrance so they had a full view. It was a defensive move, typical gunfighter’s stance, back to the wall. Tavish came in next and took to pacing at the door eager for his wife’s arrival. When she entered it was in the midst of Liam’s guards, whose names Brenawyn still didn’t know, but in their time with their custodians, Brenawyn and Isla remained unmolested.
It did not stop Tavish from grabbing the first by the shirt and hitting him square in the jaw. His head rocked back and the others fanned out. Isla ran behind her husband, and Alex jumped into the fray followed by Amergin who ran to meet Isla and bring her back to the relative safety of where Brenawyn stood.
His interlace glowed softly and Brenawyn reached out to touch his hand. The contact surprised him, and his first reaction was to pull away, but she was insistent and held on. Brenawyn needed to feel his power as a way to access hers. She didn’t know the extent of his abilities, but she felt his source and searched for her own. Her interlace flared and his eyes grew wide.
Alex made swift work of the two on the left, but he hung back to let Tavish take his rage out on the two he faced. Even Brenawyn could see that the man was exhausting energy and it was taking entirely too much time to incapacitate the men, but Alex stood as sentinel giving the man leeway.
Still holding Amergin’s hand, she saw Alex flex his fingers, she’d seen that move before from him, and she reached out with her senses. He felt his heart race and the building frustration. This needed to be over before Liam and Cormac entered.
Let Tavish deal with it.
Amergin made a noise, and wiggled free of her hold.
Alex pivoted. Brenawyn get out of my head.
She persisted, and pushed further. Broken images flashed in her mind: a boy skipping rocks at a lake, her on a stepladder in her grandmother’s shop, the flush of instant lust, weightlessness, hunger, salivation, the metallic taste of blood, lust.
Get out of my head! Walls went up and she was physically pushed back.
Coming too, she shook herself and Amergin helped steady her. “That was no’ me. Ye did that all on yer own. It’s a slippery slope ye’ve found. Best no’ go where it leads. He’d die a thousand deaths for ye, make no mistake, but allow him his own thoughts. T’is all that he has that he can call his own. Doonae take that from him.”
Alex grunted, and jumped in to finish off the last man. Before he could rise completely to his feet to meet Tavish again, Alex grabbed a handful of the man’s hair and brought his knee up. There was a satisfying crunch and a burst of blood as the man’s nose broke on Alex’s knee. He crumpled to the ground, hands clasped over his gushing nose. Tavish rounded on Alex, the fight still in him and took a wild swing. Alex caught his fist and twisted his arm behind his back. “T’is done. Stand down.”
But Tavish scrambled to get a hold on Alex’s other arm to try to throw him over his shoulder one handed. Alex planted his feet and resisted, exerting more pressure on the arm he still held.
“Man, yer fight is no’ with me, and yer wife is safe. Go ta her now.” He released the man shoving him away, and Tavish rounded on him.”
“Go ta yer wife, man. She needs ye,” Alex repeated.
Tavish heaved a breath, and nodded, rubbing at his arm. Isla was bouncing on the balls of her feet in impatience, as soon as she saw that the fight was truly over she ran to him. Tavish caught her when he turned, lifting her off her feet in a one armed embrace. Their reunion was short lived, however, because the great doors were sealed with a boom. Alex whirled around and screamed, “No!”
Brenawyn looked to Amergin to explain.
“Once the doors are sealed they cannae be opened until the appointed time.”
“So, Maggie?”
He shook his head, “I doonae ken, lass. I doonae ken.”
Alex fell to his knees, his defensive red runes igniting. Brenawyn moved to go to him, but Amergin held her back. “Leave him. He’s gathering strength for the coming battle.”
Chapter 24
Time stopped. Brenawyn paced the floor, nerves on edge. Isla slept, leaning on Tavish’s shoulder on one of the many couches available. Tables were laden with food along the perimeter, replenished she knew not how, but for the amount of food ingested by Amergin, it was a small wonder. She watched him eat an entire ham. He was finishing off a goose currently, sucking the fat off his fingers noisily.
She leaned against the table at which Amergin sat gorging himself.
“He’ll maintain that position until it is t
ime. He’s gathering energy.”
She looked over at Alex, still on his knees. “You’ve said that. How come you’re not doing the same, or showing me how?”
“Och, that last is easy. Ye havenae asked. As ta the other, that’s how he chooses to do it. Me? I eat. The sources o’ our abilities are different, ye ken. Alexander is a warrior, and his abilities focus on that. He swifter, stronger, and more agile. Because o’ it, he can shift faster than e’en I could, and I ha’ been alive three o’ his lifetimes.”
“The ability to shift is bestowed on the Reliquary?”
“Aye, and a few others. I didnae ha’ it ta begin with, but ha’ retained it after the mantle was passed.”
“That doesn’t happen all the time?”
Amergin shrugged. “I am the first to ha’ survived the transition.”
Brenawyn’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh!”
“Priestess, ye should eat something.”
“I’m not hungry. I can’t eat. My stomach is just too upset.”
“Ye should eat for the bairn.”
She turned, “How did you know? Oh, did Mistress Fordoun tell you?”
Amergin laughed at that. “Ta get that woman ta tell ye anything,” he hooted, slapping his leg. “Would take the strength of an entire army a’ threat o’ torture, even afterward, she’d no’ say. Nay, I ken it when ye touched my hand.”
“Really?” she looked at her palm.
“Yer heartbeat is strong, but there’s an echo o’ another underneath fluttering quickly as the hummingbird flies.” He pressed on her thumb pad, “I felt it here.”
~ ~ ~
Later, a chime sounded and the doors were pulled open. Alex picked up his head and rose to his feet, determined. He went to the threshold and looked out. Brenawyn caught his look of consternation before he wiped his face of all emotion. Here we go. He held out a hand to her blocking her from seeing beyond.
“Whate’er happens, ken that I will protect ye with all that I am. That extends ta wee Maggie, too.” Brenawyn nodded and tried to get around him, but he stopped her again. “Ask for trial by combat.”
She pulled away, but he dug his fingers into her arm trying to get her to comprehend what he wanted her to do. What he needed her to do. “Brenawyn, a chuisle, do ye understand what I’m saying? Ye must ask for trial by combat. T’is the only way that I can intervene.”
“Trial by … combat? Who will it be with? Liam? Cormac?”
“It doesna matter, Brenawyn. I am afraid t’will be the only way ta save Maggie.”
She tore away from him and stumbled to the threshold before he could prevent her seeing. He grabbed at her to pull her in, but she recoiled, screaming in frustration. The chamber had changed. Torches were lit around the center dais illuminating a wood and straw structure. Maggie was there at the base, tied and gagged.
“What the fuck is this?” She stalked out, intent on her destination, but it was Amergin who stopped her this time.
“Get the fuck out of my way, old man.”
Alex picked her up, and carried her back. Amergin followed, ordering everyone out of the antechamber.
She rallied against him, pummeling his chest, jackknifing her legs so he’d lose his grip, but he held on until he dropped her unceremoniously on a divan. “Shut the doors.”
She was up in a shot and his defensive scarlet sigils blazed to life. “If ye want ta go ye ha’ ta get through me, then Amergin. But yer no’ likely ta best us both.”
Amergin implored, “Brenawyn, listen ta us. T’is verra important that ye dae.”
“What? Do you expect me to just let it happen?”
“Nay, o’ course we doonae, but they’ve orchestrated ta use yer emotions against ye. The Coven is here. They’ve tried ta get ye o’er ta their side, first with Liam.”
She scoffed.
“That bastart, he’ll suffer a’ my hands ‘afore the night is done. I swear ta ye. I will visit vengeance upon his head for the grievous wrongs he committed. But that’s a separate issue. Liam is just a man.”
Brenawyn nodded but still seethed.
“The Coven tried ta abduct ye in the garden, when yer dog was hurt. They tried to take yer powers in Leo’s house, when they gutted me. They tried again in Tannersville. Ye’ve resisted all. Yer strong. Stronger than ye ken.”
She glanced away. “Little good it did.”
Alex grabbed her chin to force her to face him, “Hey, hey, look at me! They couldnae dae it, so they went ta where yer vulnerable. They went ta those ye love. Cormac took Maggie.”
Brenawyn, “Don’t you think I’ve fucking seen it! I’ve been helpless, wracked with worry these weeks I’ve been here. Not knowing were she was. Hating myself for involving her.”
Amergin interrupted, “T’is nay yer fault.”
“No? Really? Do you honestly believe that?”
“Aye, we both do. We all ha’ vulnerabilities.” Amergin injected.
“Not you.” Brenawyn accused Alex.
He threw a chair across the room and it splintered against the wall. “So sure, are ye about that, hmm?”
“You’re what, 600 years old?”
“And in that time, did ye ken I no’ formed attachments? Had nay people I cared about? Loved? Did ye think I lived a chastse life? And we’re fucking, aye, yer word that ye love so much, we’re fucking back here now. My family still lives. My wife…”
“Yer wife?” Brenawyn blurted.
“Oh? Didnae ken that I was marrit once? Though in truth I should ha’ said my ex-wife. She still lives, or at least I think she does, though there’s nay way for me ta be sure on that account. I doonae wish her harm, but I doonae want ta see her e’er again.”
“Were getting off topic,” Amergin cautioned.
Alex nodded, closing his eyes. He gulped and took a measure breath, sighing, “And then there’s ye.”
“Me? We’ve known each other for a few short months.”
“Aye, that’s the truth, a chuisle—blood of my heart. I cannae be the man ye deserve, I ken verra well that ye doonae return my feelings, such as they are, but t’is the truth.”
Alex stroked her abdomen with his fingertips. “And the babe.” A tear ran down his cheek. “I am laid bare between the two o’ ye.”
Silence stretched between them but Brenawyn relented and stepped close to him. She reached up to wipe the tear away and sighed, “What do you want me to do?”
~ ~ ~
Caileach reconvened the assembly with a thump of her staff. Circling the center offertory, the Wickerman, she welcomed each race: Fir Bolg, Formor, Tuatha Dé, and the Milesians. The representatives bowed from their waist at mention, and when it was Brenawyn’s turn she felt Alex’s direction to do the same from his hand’s pressure on her shoulder.
The celebrant approached the Fir Bolg first and a representative of the three stepped out and allowed her to lead him around the offertory. She recounted their lineage in Gaelic. Understanding from the repetition of syllables only, Brenawyn figured it was something along the lines of “the father of…the father of,” going back to the beginning of time itself. Adhering to the acclaimed oral tradition of the Druids, under any other circumstances, Brenawyn might have had some pity for the lost beauty and the rich history of the storyteller’s art; but as it was all she could see was Maggie bound and gagged at the base of the offertory.
The litany went on for an interminable time to the cheers of the Fir Bolg assembled, but eventually the representative was led back to his seat. There was more bowing, and then the woman asked, “Céard a déarfas tu’?”
Brenawyn turned her head to Alex in question. He put up a hand telling her to hold her question.
The representative answered, “Tá sé mar atá tú ag sealaíocht.”
Caileach bowed and then turned to the Formor to begin their lineage account. When she led Ruadan out, Alex bent to whisper into Brenawyn’s ear.
“T’is a recounting o’ their ancestry. Afterward she asks if she narrated it well
. His answer is a formal one o’ acknowledgement. Translated it means, ‘It is as ye relay.’ When it comes time, I will help ye through it. Doonae worry.”
Brenawyn gulped. “When do I request…”
His hand tightened on her shoulder, “Ye’ll ken when.”
From the Formor, the process of naming proceeded to the Tuatha Dé Danann with Caileach leading Finvarra. Before long the woman stood in front of her. Brenawyn stepped out and took the woman’s hand. Before she could begin there was movement from the opposite side of the circle, and Ruadan’s voice thundered. “Tá truailliú ann nach mór a cheartú.”
The Caileach patted her hand and led her back to her place before addressing the interruption. “Ambasadóir Ruadan, I ask ye ta speak plain so that the accused can understand yer grievances.”
Ruadan moved to the center, foregoing formalities and addressed Brenawyn. “Priestess, ye are a corruption that must be remedied.”
Caileach turned to her, “What say you ta these charges, priestess?”
“I am not sure,” she said hesitantly.
It was Amergin who clarified, “He means that ye are not worthy o’ the title.”
Brenawyn spoke out, “With all due respect to your office, Lady of Winter, and to these most sacred proceedings, but who is he to make such accusations? I felt the weight of the mantle of my office the moment I took the blood oath.”
“Blood oath?” Ruadan scoffed. “In what circumstances did ye take the oath?”
“My blood was spilled on the banks of the Well of Seagis in Tir-Na-Nog witnessed by Nimue of the Tuatha Dé Danann. Call her to give testimony.”
The crowd parted behind Finvarra, Cernunnos, and Oghma to allow Nimue, the goddess of the moon, to step forward.
Caileach acknowledged her presence, “Is there truth in her words?”
“Labhraíonn sí an fhírinne.”
“The assembly accepts the claim and testimony as truth.”
Nimue inclined her head and stepped back within the sea of those pressed to get a better view of the proceedings.
The celebrant thumped her staff. “Ambasadóir Ruadan, ye ha’ yer proof.”