Celtic Nights

A Gift

Malwas concluded the ritual to return his daughter from Akria’s realm. He had missed her first birth but not this, her second. The Spider goddess had blessed Lann and was anxious for her to dwell in the world again. Only those favoured highly by the gods could perform such magic. The ritual took all day leaving both priest and recipient exhausted. Entrusting his child to the care of the lesser priests, he retired to his quarters.

The king of the fomori was accustomed to working all hours, demanding no less of himself than he did his subordinates. His servants had prepared his bed but much to Malwas’s dismay in it rested his queen consort, Arianaera of the royal house of the danaan. She reclined decorously amongst the cushions as always conscious of her beauty and importance. The high priest raised an ivory eyebrow at her presence.

They had yet to produce an heir, a lack that did not especially concern Malwas as he had several children. Arianaera was more interested in her position than her duties as a consort. Through her, he assuaged the danaan collaborators and might yet pacify the clans who still fought him. He sent for her when he felt the need. This was the first she had graced his bed at her own invitation.

“It is a pleasure as always, my queen.” He was formal because it kept her from assuming proprietorship of him. Arianaera inclined her head gracefully then returned to the embrace of the pillows. Her scent hung delicately in the room masking the incense he used to meditate. “To what do I owe the honour of your company? I though you were making arrangements for the harvest festivities.”

During their long imprisonment at the hands of the sidhe, the fomori had little cause for celebration. Now they held Erin, the nobles wanted to revel. Malwas focussed on higher things than merrymaking so left the endless preparations in the hands of his consort. Queen Arianaera smiled like an angel, which she resembled in physical form if not in spirit.

“I came only to ask, my husband, if your guest would be joining us at the high table.” Her long lashes veiled her celestial blue eyes demurely but her gaze was bold on him. She wanted to convey he could hide nothing from her, that she had power over him and would use it if angered. Malwas saw her tactics quite clearly and conceded like a gentleman.

“She will attend and sit at my right hand, though lower of course than you, my wife.” There was no anger in his voice for there was no need. Arianaera had shown her hand and won her point. Her skill at intrigue was one of the reasons why he had married her. She rose from his bed, her gown falling into place without crease. A curtsy, a smile, a rush of perfume and she was gone.

Malwas doubted any of the consecrated had gossiped with the queen, which left the wizard who had brought in Derryth and Lann or possibly one of the officers at the Marnad estate. He would have to tighten security. Arianaera had referred to only one guest so her information was not complete. He would increase the wards against scrying as well for his queen was an accomplished mage.

The priest allowed himself a few hours of reverie then dealt with any affairs of state his council of ministers could not settle themselves. Although he was a ruthless king, he did not hoard power exclusively to himself. When ruling a fractious collection of rival nobles it was best to keep them busy. Only when his duties were done and he had conducted evening prayers did Malwas go to visit his guest.

An untouched tray of food told him she had not stirred from the bed. He repeated the spells he had cast the day before then slid under the blankets beside her. When he put his arms around her, Derryth huddled against him and wept silently into his shoulder. Malwas murmured consolations to her while he skimmed her mind. The depths of her sorrow took him by surprise until he deciphered the flashes of thought.

The losses she had suffered since the opening of the gate to the prison realm had swamped her. Danaan could usually assuage heartache into a gentle melancholy by focussing on other things. Derryth had been doing that consistently for three years with little relief. She and her damned companions had been very busy, Malwas saw. His forces had slain several but not all.

Perhaps it was time to send a raid to the Welsh kinships and the valley where the druid’s friends sheltered. The information he gleaned from her mind was patchy. He could not probe deeper without alerting her to his presence. His field commanders should be able to determine the location of the stronghold with a little incentive. Malwas eased his hold on her to slip away but Derryth clutched at him.

“Don’t go.” She spoke so softly he almost did not hear her. Hiding his smile, the priest settled back. He held her close waiting for her to ease her grip. When she was again calm, Malwas ran his hand along her arm and when he reached her shoulder he slid his hand under the loose collar of her robe. The garment she wore was slightly too large and although tightly belted at the front it gaped at the neck.

Her skin was not as soft as Arianaera’s. There were scars here and there, rough under his fingers. A few bruises lingered too, warm spots to him when his hand moved over them. Derryth sighed as he rubbed her back. Her tears ebbed. Malwas thought grimly of the fomori traitor she had taken as a lover after she conceived Lann. He would see what she had learned from him.

His hand slid forward to her collarbone and the little bump on her second rib where it had healed after a break. Her breasts were still swollen full. He thought it incongruous that the baby she had nursed was in the temple below cursing the damage done to her armour. Derryth’s hands fluttered against his chest when he squeezed one of her nipples but she did not push him away.

Malwas untied her sash to give him free reign on her body. She so yearned for comfort she soon responded to his ministrations. He could not suppress a laugh of triumph when the druid reached for him of her own accord. Derryth wrapped her arms around him and clung to him as a drowning woman would a thrown rope. She was receptive yet he did not push further. There was something he had yet to do.

Midnight mass was a private service for priests of Akria. Malwas lay still until Derryth fell into reverie then slipped out of bed and extinguished the lights. He knelt on the floor with his head bowed to whisper his prayers to the darkness. In his soul, he laid bare his secrets for the goddess to judge. If she found him worthy she would grant her favour. Should he fail in her regard, she would grant him her wrath.

Malwas remained there in quiet meditation growing cramped and chilled in the cold night air. He did not stir until heat blossomed in his chest and raced down his spin to ground in his groin. His body reacted so strongly his erection was almost painful. The priest gave a solemn prayer of thanks to his goddess before returning to bed. This time he shed his clothes.

He reactivated the magical torches so Derryth would see all they did. Malwas wanted her to remember every touch, every movement. He started slowly though he ached to take her. The druid roused quickly from her dreams under his hands. Her fingers traced circles over his back when he caressed her and clenched hard on his shoulders went he bent his head to suckle.

It was she not he who rolled him onto his back so she could straddle him. Malwas groaned as he entered her. He had had her before but this time it was different. She licked his nipples as she rode him, squeezing him as she twisted her hips. When she leant forward so he could cup her breasts, he saw she was smiling. He pulled her down so they could kiss then let her go as she bucked with pleasure

Her thoughts flowed like quicksilver. He fought to concentrate and sieve through the flashing blur until he found something he could use. Through her eyes, Malwas saw himself rub his fingers over her stomach. Derryth’s hands tightened on his as she arched back. It was then he recalled to her the flickering memory. She saw herself with a swollen belly making love to a fomor.

Longing for that baby surged through her. So great was the feeling it spilled over to Malwas. He felt an irrational rage that it had been the traitor Bovos who had truly shared the memory with her even though it had been his child, Lann, within her. He felt his seed rising and opened her mind completely so she thought of nothing else in this moment but the pleasure he gave her and her desire for him.

Derryth cried out as her body flooded with heat. As quickly as the fire came, it extinguished leaving her flushed but shivering. She collapsed onto the bed to nestle against a warm body. It felt so good after the pain she did not want it to end. The druid followed the memories into her dreams and thence into reverie unaware the man in whose arms she lay, she had sworn to kill.

Malwas panted for breath. He felt dizzy, spent and exultant. The first time he had lain with her he had taken pleasure more from the victory than the act. This night he had learned why the traitor pined for her. Derryth was not practised like a courtesan and lacked the exotic tricks he usually favoured. She was so alive, so vital he wanted to touch her again just so he could feel her energy.

He savoured the prospect of what it would be like to couple with her when she come to terms with her grief and was fully aware of what he had done. Malwas understood the risks he took in toying with her. If he had not wanted to torment her, he would have sent her to the altar as he had said. He was not in the habit of being merciful and he would break Derryth or she would die trying.