Keeper Of The Light (19 page)

“This is a warm and comfortable home you have made here,” he said. “It was your family’s home, and now it is yours. I can understand why you would not want to leave it. But…I want to ask you again, Rioghan, to make your home at Cahir Cullen, where you can be welcomed and protected and live among those who need you.”

She stood in silence again, all but mesmerized by the sight of him absently stroking the soft furs on the place where she slept. “Again, I thank you for your offer,” she said faintly, still watching his hand. “But I prefer to remain here where I can serve both Man and Sidhe.”

He smiled at her, and to her discomfiture sat down on the edge of her sleeping ledge right on top of the furs. “Yet I have another offer to make to you. Perhaps you would come to Cahir Cullen if you knew you would not be there alone. Perhaps you would come…if you were coming as my wife.”

Wife…

Rioghan blinked. She ventured one step forward, and another, until she stood at the other end of the fur-covered ledge. “Did I hear you correctly? You are asking me to make a contract of marriage with you?”

“I am.” Donaill turned sideways on the ledge, one leg propped up against it with both hands resting on his knee.

It seemed strange to Rioghan to see his large, masculine, broad-shouldered presence in the close quarters of her home, with its low ceiling and delicate furnishings. Yet it was also strange, as she looked at his face in the flickering hearthlight, how all else around him seemed to vanish into the darkness. She saw only his shadowed form, now almost near enough to touch.

“I am very different from the other women of Cahir Cullen, or of Dun Orga, or of any of the other fortresses of Eire. I have no doubt that any one of them would be happy to become your wife. Perhaps even more than one. Why would you want to marry one as strange and different as I?”

She could see him smile in the darkness. “I have told you before that I enjoyed finding how different you are…and I do not find you strange. Different, perhaps, but not strange. You are wise and strong and kind, and I admire those things in both women and men. And I know that under your somber black cloak you are a young and beautiful woman who must surely desire a man in her life, and in those things you are not different after all.”

“If I desired a man in my life, do you not think

I would have brought one into it before now?”

“Perhaps you have, Lady Rioghan. Perhaps you have.” Again he simply smiled at her, waiting for her reply.

Rioghan considered. She could turn her back on him at this moment and not speak another word, she could order him to leave her home, and she knew that he would do so. Instead, she sat down on the very edge of her sleeping ledge, folded her hands, and faced him.

“I had an offer of marriage once before, some years ago,” she said. “I believe I may have told you of it.”

“You did. And as I recall, he betrayed you.”

“He did.”

“Yet, Rioghan, I can tell you that I have no intention of betraying you. It is a source of pride to me that no woman has ever been distressed by the way I have treated her. I do not want that to change.”

“Yet, Donaill, you have never been married. I might ask if you loved any of the women you have known up to now.”

He smiled, though there was no mockery in it. “If I did, it was only the affection all young people feel for each other when they run carefree through the woods on a summer’s night—no more and no less. Each of us felt the same, and there was no confusion or injured feelings.”

“I see.” Rioghan nodded. “Do you not feel such lusty affection for me?”

He sat back a little, but then grinned. “Indeed I do feel it, my lady. I simply did not want you to believe it was my only interest in you, for it is not.

And, I will confess, I do not know if you have any such affection for me.”

She continued to gaze steadily at him. “I will not deny my attraction to you,” she said. “You have been kind to me, and made me feel safe in your presence. You are a strong and handsome man. It would be strange if I felt no attraction to you at all.”

He leaned toward her, looking carefully at her face. “I am glad to hear all of this. Does it mean you are thinking of accepting my offer?”

“I am afraid it does not.”

He gave her a sly look, filled with amusement. “Are you saying you would prefer only the casual interaction that many men and women enjoy with each other, with no marriage and no other commitment?”

She continued to gaze at him, beginning to enjoy his banter. “I am not saying that at all. I am saying that the attraction I feel for you is simply nature, and nothing more. It has not much to do with love, or respect, or loyalty, for I do not love you. It is not enough for marriage. And though my attraction for you is strong, it is no different from the doe in her season, who stands for the largest and most aggressive stag and then walks away again without another thought for him. But I will not indulge myself like a doe.”

Donaill tilted his head. “I thought I might have more to offer than merely being the largest of the stags—gratified as I am to know that that is how you see me.”

She smiled. “I have said, have I not, that I do indeed feel safe in your presence? That you kept your word about protecting Sion from Beolagh and his men?”

“You have. But—”

She cut him off. “You have not told me why you believe that we should marry.”

He frowned. “I believe I did tell you. I find you beautiful and learned and wise, and unlike all other women. You say that you find me handsome and honest and kind. And strong, like a stag.” Donaill grinned again. “Surely you can see that neither of us is growing younger. Perhaps it is time for us to live in the warmth of another’s company, instead of apart, each in our own lonely cave.”

“No doubt the men at Cahir Cullen would surely think it strange that Donaill, who could have almost any woman he wanted, would choose Rioghan, who is nearly one of the Sidhe, to be his wife.”

“The women there would not think it strange, for they are the ones who know you best. They are each a friend to you and would welcome you, just as they did at the feast.”

“And the men?” She did not underestimate the importance of his peers.

He snorted. “The men will learn. The men know that I am the king’s own champion and not to be shown disrespect. And neither is my wife.”

“The king’s own champion,” she whispered, “who always gets what he wants.”

He frowned. “Indeed I am the champion, sworn to be the sword-arm of the king. I will not hide the pride I feel at that. I gave much to reach that, the most accomplished and prized of positions, and it is a great part of who and what I am.”

She nodded gravely. “I do not believe it is possible to separate the man who is Donaill from the man who is the king’s champion.”

He shook his head, obviously frustrated. “I do not understand. How can anyone separate themselves from their accomplishments? Could you separate Rioghan the woman from Rioghan the healer?”

“That is a good point you make. But I can tell you that my status among your people will never be the most important thing to me.”

“As you believe mine is to me. But Rioghan, that status you disdain is the very thing that allowed me to save this place where you live, and defend you and the Sidhe on this night—and it will also allow me to share a very good life with you as your husband. You will never want for anything, Lady Rioghan, and neither will your children…
our
children.”

He smiled gently at her, his hands still folded. “I have no wish to watch you marry some other. Or to watch you grow old out here alone. Please…will you not consider my offer?”

Slowly she shook her head. “I cannot. I could never be the wife of a king’s champion, or of any other high-ranking man.”

He kept very still. “And will you tell me why you cannot?”

“Because…because I do not believe that any man of your status could ever be content with just one woman. Indeed, you have not been thus far; it is why you are not wed. I fear that I am simply a different sort of woman for you to conquer, simply another challenge for the king’s champion. I am one who may well be placed in the honored position of the king’s champion’s wife, but I could not ever keep him from all those other women who are always in his life…and who will always be there for him whenever his wife is not.”

He started to speak, but she went on too quickly. “Far better, for me, to have an honest man of the land who has little more to offer me but loyalty and love. If it should come to it, I would rather stay alone here, and live in peace, than make a home with the finest of men and live each day in torment and uncertainty.”

“Never would I allow you live in torment, Lady Rioghan,” Donaill vowed quietly.

She looked away. “That is true…for
I
would never allow it, either.”

“If it is loyalty and love that you value most, I assure you, you would have all you could wish for of both.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You do offer me respect, Donaill, but I dare not count on loyalty, and I have heard nothing at all of love from you.”

He smiled, trying to keep his words light. “Yet perhaps there
is
love in my heart for you, and I simply wish to keep it safely there until I know whether you might return it. And…perhaps you do the same.”

He got to his feet and closed the distance between them, then stood towering over her. Before she could react, he took both of her small hands between his own and held them gently, warmly. “Ah, beautiful doe,” he said softly, “will you at least agree to let the stag pay you court? To walk with you, and protect your flank, and shield you with his size and his weight and the sharp horns that are his weapons…and stroke your sides with the softness of his muzzle until you no longer wish him to leave?”

She closed her eyes as his fingers moved slowly down her cheek; then she reached up and caught them. “I cannot ever agree to a marriage with you,” she whispered.

His face was very close to hers. “But to a courtship?”

With each breath her chin rose a little, until her mouth was nearly touching his. Her desire was so great. “A courtship…I will accept,” she whispered at last, against all her best judgment. And then the softness of his mouth reached hers at last.

For many heartbeats, Rioghan was conscious only of his lips, and his warm breath, and the size and heat of his body shielding her from all else in the world. She began to reach up to him, to place her hands on those strong, wide shoulders and cling to them and draw him closer, closer…but he caught her wrists in a gentle hold and pressed them together in front of her.

“A courtship it will be, then, Lady Rioghan,” he said; and he drew back from her.

She blinked as light from the hearth flickered over her again, as the cold, damp air of the cave was all that remained to surround her.

“And I will do all I can to prove I am not a man who will betray you,” he added.

“I do not know how anyone could ever prove such a thing,” she whispered.

He smiled and walked toward the entrance of the cave. “I do not know either,” he said. “But I will do my best to find a way.”

Then Donaill stepped outside into the darkness. A moment later, Rioghan heard the sound of hoofbeats galloping away.

Chapter Fifteen

In the gray morning light, Sabha stood behind one of the small, high windows of her house and watched her husband walk across the grass toward her door. He moved rather slowly, for he had a heavy stack of tunics and cloaks thrown over his shoulder. She recognized them as being most of the clothes he owned, for he had taken them to the house where Coiteann lived with six other unattached women and servants.

Before he could touch the door, Sabha opened it. “Good morning to you, Airt,” she said. “You have chosen to return to our home?”

“I have,” he said, looking up at her and smiling. He shifted the load of clothing on his back. “May I come inside? I am so anxious to—”

“Where is Coiteann?”

He paused, beginning to sweat under the load he was carrying. “She is still at her home and has started her dye work already. I have left her, Sabha. I have no wish to see her again. I have come home to you.”

A few of the other people of Cahir Cullen, catching on to what was happening, had stopped to watch. Sabha glanced at them and then looked back at Airt. “Leave your things in front of the door. Go and get Coiteann and bring her here. And bring anyone else who wishes to hear what you have to say to me.”

Airt stood and stared at her. The clothes seemed to grow heavier by the moment, but he made no move to drop them. “You want me to bring Coiteann here? And…others?”

“There must be no question of what your choice has been. It must be perfectly clear to all, especially to Coiteann. Bring her here, and say your piece, and then you may return to your home.”

At last he set down his clothes, letting them fall to the grass near the door. “I will be back very soon,” he said, turning to go.

“Very soon,” she called after him, knowing that all of the spectators would hear.

It was not long before Sabha again opened the front door of her house. This time there was a fair crowd of people standing in little groups between her dwelling and the others. Shouldering his way through the gathering to stand in the grass before her was Airt, and hurrying after him was an increasingly frantic Coiteann.