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Celtic Fire(94)



When no answer came, he sheathed his sword and hauled Rhiannon to her feet. She grasped his shoulder for balance and fought the urge to vomit.

“Our queen has been defiled by the Roman dog who commands Vindolanda,” Edmyg shouted.

“Nay,” Rhiannon said, but a roar of outrage shattered her weak protest. Nausea surged and darkness swirled into her vision. She heard Edmyg’s faraway voice as her consciousness faded.

“Who will join me in vengeance?”





Chapter Twenty


“Drink this.”

Rhiannon grasped the wooden cup and brought it to her lips. A hand held the back of her head, supporting her as she drank a bitter potion. The light of a low fire cast flickering shadows over wattle-and-mud walls. Madog’s forest hut.

“Owein,” she said weakly.

“Hush. Dinna try to speak. Ye’ve suffered much today.”

She nodded, closing her eyes against the memory of Kynan’s slaughter. She drank again, swallowing deeply. Owein shifted on the pallet, drawing her against him in the reverse of an embrace she’d given him so often as a small lad. When had he grown so tall as to offer her the same comfort?

She laid her empty cup on the dirt floor. “Where is Madog?”

“Preparing the summer fires. This eve, your hand will spark the flames.”

“Nay.” Rhiannon sought Owein’s gaze, but his eyes were shadowed and she could not make out his expression.

“ ’Tis folly to attack the Romans. I’ll not be part of it, Owein. Would ye join Edmyg in dooming the clan?”

He laughed, an unpleasant sound more suited to a man than a lad. “For once, Edmyg and I are of one mind. The Roman commander soiled ye. He must pay.”

“He did naught but what I allowed him,” Rhiannon whispered.

Owein swore. “Edmyg said as much, but I nay believed him. How could I, when I saw plain enough what he did? I heard your grief.”

Rhiannon looked at him in confusion. “Ye saw, Owein? But how?”

“Ye know I have the Sight.”

“Ye see shadows of the future.”

“Aye, and those of the past and the present. I saw ye with him, Rhiannon. In his bed. Sobbing as if yer heart would break.” His arms tensed around her. “I’ll kill him for it.”

“Nay,” Rhiannon whispered, her mind reeling with the thought of Owein’s unseen presence in the chamber she’d shared with Lucius. “He never harmed me. I went to him willingly.”

“Willingly.” He jerked to his feet. “I am ashamed of ye.”

Rhiannon’s temper flared. “ ’Tis nay your place to approve of my union   with Lucius.”

“He will die for it. I promise ye that.”

“Nay, Owein. Ye willna harm him.”

He regarded her steadily. “The Roman fort will fall. Its commander will die. I have Seen it.”

Cold dread seeped into Rhiannon’s gut. “If Vindolanda falls, ’twill seal the Brigantes’ doom. The Romans will not rest until we are all dead or enslaved. Can ye not See the truth?”

“The beasts killed our father. They slaughtered the Druids on Mona, raped their women. How can we forget?”

“Drawing blood from a wound will nay heal it! As queen I can negotiate peace. The Brigantes will once again be a free people within Rome, as we were under Cartimandua.”

“A free people? Ye are mad to think it. Our grandmother believed Rome thought her an equal. Her trust cost her the throne.”

Rhiannon closed her eyes as a swell of lightheadedness assaulted her. Owein spoke the truth. She’d little reason to believe the Roman governor would grant autonomy to the Brigantes. Still, she longed for the opportunity to intervene on her people’s behalf. Perhaps with Lucius’s help …

Nay. It was a dream that would never come true. Another wave of vertigo struck. She leaned forward and braced her palm on the floor.

Owein’s hand pressed her shoulder. “Lie down, sister,” he said. “The spinning will soon pass, leaving ye stronger than before. Ye’ll be linked to Madog’s spirit as I am.”

Rhiannon stared up at him. “Have ye drugged me, Owein?”

Guilt flickered in his eyes, then hardened into hate. Dear Briga. She’d been gone from him for less time than it took the moon to wax. Yet in that short span, Owein had passed from lad to man.

He crouched by her side, steadying her as the walls of the hut spun wildly. “ ’Tis best this way. Ye’ll light the fires of Beltane. Madog and I will call Kernunnos. The foreign swine will soon be gone from the lands of the Brigantes.”

She struggled to refute him, even as she felt the potion drain her resistance. “The Romans are not beasts, Owein. They are men like any others.”