Keeper Of The Light (23 page)

Irial, too, came to stand beside the hearth and look closely at his brother. “If no one else will say it, I will. Coiteann has been through half the men of this fortress, and now, it seems, she has started on the other half. She is not—”

Donaill leaped to his feet, knocking the plate of food on his bed to the straw. “You will not speak of her in such a way! Those tales are only malicious gossip spread by a few jealous women. Coiteann has told me so herself!”

“Donaill—”

“It is true that she was greatly popular among the men here, and how could it be otherwise? She is wise. She is lovely. She is skilled. She is wonderful. And I will defend her with all the power of the king’s own champion against any who would dare to speak ill of her!”

“You intend to marry her?” Airt whispered.

“I do! And I will consider myself a fortunate man to have been the one to win her!”

Silence fell on the gathering, as cold and ominous as a winter wind. “Then I will leave you to her,” said Airt, and he turned and left the house without a single glance back.

Irial and Lorcan stood across from their brother and shook their heads. “I think you made the better choice yesterday,” said Lorcan.

“But if this is your wish, then I wish you joy of it,” said Irial. “Perhaps we can all go hunting later…if you still want to go.” Then, with an apologetic yet resigned glance at Rioghan, the two brothers also left the house, leaving Rioghan alone with Donaill and Coiteann.

The slamming of the door echoed in the cold silence. Rioghan flinched at the sound. And as she looked at Donaill, who still seemed not to notice her, the darkness that surrounded him seemed real enough to taste.

This could not have been his choice alone. She could never believe that. But perhaps she was simply denying the hard reality of it all. So many men seemed to consider it their primary goal in life to collect as many women for themselves as they possibly could, in any way they could. Rioghan was under no illusion about that—but perhaps, in her growing desire for Donaill, she had closed her eyes to the fact that he was in truth no different from any other man.

It seemed now that he had merely been trying to add her to his own group of women, intending to keep her out at Sion while having Coiteann—and any other woman he wanted—here at Cahir Cullen.

Perhaps the darkness she felt was only the reflection of her own despair.

Rioghan closed her eyes and thought of how easily she had allowed all this to happen. She had been the one who fled the fortress on the night of the feast. She had shown Donaill that she preferred the isolation of Sion. She had made it oh, so easy for him to keep her apart from all his other women here at Cahir Cullen, for she had stayed out at Sion, where she would never know what he did while he was here.

So easy.

Rioghan made herself take a step forward. She could not let it end this way. If she had been wrong about Donaill and his intentions toward her, she wanted to hear it directly from him.

But Coiteann stood up and faced her with a cold glare. “You will not touch him,” she said in a hiss.

“I am not asking you for your permission,” Rioghan whispered, still watching Donaill.

“Very well, then! Ask
him.
Ask Donaill if he wants you to touch him!”

Rioghan struggled to draw breath. “Donaill,” she said, trying to get his attention. “Donaill…you told me that you cared for me. You offered me a courtship, and I accepted. Have you changed your mind? Or was there never any truth in any of it?”

Very slowly, he turned in her direction, meeting her gaze at last. “There was truth,” he said. “I did not lie to you, Rioghan.”

“Then why… How is this possible?”

He looked away again. “I do not know,” he said, shaking his head. “I do not remember. I only know that Coiteann is here, and she is my partner, and she is very special to me.”

“And is she the only one who may touch you?”

“Why…of course she is,” he answered, looking back at Coiteann again. “I do not want her to think I am giving my attention to some other and am not here for her. She is the only one who may touch me, or do whatever else she wills with me. She and no other.”

Rioghan closed her eyes as pain and despair did their best to overwhelm her. As she turned to go, all she could hear was Coiteann’s cold laughter calling after her.

“Feel free to visit us whenever you like!” the woman said, as Rioghan stumbled toward the door. “He will take no notice of you. Please do visit us often!”

Chapter Eighteen

Rioghan again fled the fortress of Cahir Cullen, her dogs running by her side through the open gates. She intended to run all the way back to Sion and never look on the place again—but she got only a short way down the forest path before dropping to the earth beneath the glossy green leaves and bright red berries of the holly trees.

She held her head in her hands and waited for the tears to come…but though her eyes burned and her chest was locked up tight, she did not weep. Instead of grief, she found there was only anger—anger that threatened to grow into rage, anger at both Coiteann and at Donaill.

Coiteann had done this thing. There was no doubt of that. She had somehow been able to force Donaill’s will and bring him under her control, but first she would have had to get close to him—closer than he should ever have allowed her to get. He had just made an offer of marriage to Rioghan. What was such a man doing with another woman in his home?

She shook her head. If Donaill had not wanted Coiteann to be there with him, she could never have placed her charm or enchantment or curse upon him in the first place. None of this would have happened.

Rioghan clenched her fists and slammed them into the earth. Then her wailing filled the wintry forest, the terrible lament of one who has loved and trusted…and been betrayed.

Coiteann lifted up the last of the leather bags filled with her possessions and left her house one final time. It was certainly going to be nice to live in the large, fine house of the king’s champion instead of in these cramped quarters with five other women. Pulling the door shut after her, she was mildly surprised to see Airt standing there waiting.

“Good afternoon to you,” she said coolly, walking past him. But he reached out to catch her arm and forced her to face him.

She thought he would be angry—but all she saw in his eyes was pain. “You must explain yourself to me,” he whispered. “You owe me that, if nothing else.”

She jerked her arm away. “I owe you nothing,” she said with a sneer. Then, after smoothing the sleeve of her gown where he had grabbed it, she smiled. “But I will tell you, since you are so sure you want to hear. Come with me.”

Coiteann walked across the very center of the fortress, through the scattering of houses, walking proudly with her head held high while Airt hurried after her and everyone in Cahir Cullen saw them. At last they reached the cattle pens, where the five black winter cows and their calves lay resting in the straw beneath the sheds. Coiteann stood next to the wooden rails, set down her leather bags, and looked up at Airt.

Airt shook his head, searching for the words. “Why?” he asked again. “Why have you done this?”

She folded her hands atop the fence rails and smiled sweetly at him, unable to conceal how pleased she was with herself. “You are the reason why,” she began. “It should be crystal clear to you. You told me you wanted a life with me. You told me you would take me as a wife. You even moved into my house so that I would believe you were serious.”

“I was serious. I was—”

“Yet when your beloved Sabha told you she would take you back if you got rid of me, you wasted no time accepting her very kind offer. But you, one of the king’s bold warriors, did not have the courage to tell me what you had decided to do.”

He hung his head. “I thought I could still make it work. I thought I could still persuade her to accept you as my second wife, once she took me back.”

“I am sure you did,” said Coiteann, brushing a strand of pale blond hair from her face. “You lied to both of us. And now you have neither one.”

Airt closed his eyes. “But yesterday…yesterday you went with me to Sion, and you told me, you told Rioghan, that you wished to build a life with me and be respected as my wife.”

Coiteann laughed. “So, Airt, it is well if
you
deceive a woman with your promises and lies, but you are shocked when a woman dares deceive you in return? I said what was necessary so that Rioghan would give me what I required: a charm of binding.”

“Binding,” he whispered, his eyes growing large. “Did you…did you use such a thing on me? Is that how—”

She only laughed again. “Oh, Airt, there was no need for any such thing with you. It was clear to everyone—especially to me—that you had an appetite for the company of other women whenever your dear wife was not present. It took hardly any effort at all to turn your attention to me…and only the smallest amount of dark magic to convince you to take me inside your very own house.”

“Dark magic?”

She raised both her hands, showing him their dark-stained palms. “I am the one who makes the dyes,” she said. “The reeking, bitter dyes that ruin my hands but add such beauty and color to everyday life here.

“I spun thread to make a tunic especially for you, and when I prepared the black dye for this thread it was no trouble to add a few special things to it…dark, cold things to encourage dark, cold actions.

“I used the burned ashes of my hair and the dust and earth from my boots at the end of the day. I used red heather, for that is the shrub of unbridled greed and of passion that knows no boundaries. And, of course, I used a drop of my own blood, drawn with no pain and no sorrow.”

“Then you took me from Sabha with dark magic,” Airt said, his voice beginning to shake. “You forced me to—”

But Coiteann only laughed as she put down her hands. “There was no need for force,” she said in a sneer. “It was like forcing a dog to fresh meat. The magic that I wove into your black tunic merely gave you the courage to do what you wanted to do all along, which was take me into your house and into your bed.”

“Donaill, too, wore a new black tunic this day.” Airt’s face was gray as ash. “Is that how you turned his attention to you?”

“In part. But there was more, for he is not like you. He had indeed set his sights on Rioghan alone and intended to make her his one and only wife. I knew this task would be more difficult, so I gave him my very personal attention.” She fixed Airt with a smug look, as if daring him to ask any more.

“I fear to ask you what else you might have done. But…why Donaill? You had never shown interest in him before. Why did you try to take Donaill?”

Her eyes narrowed, and a slow, grim smile spread across her face.

“I know very well who was behind Sabha’s revenge. Rioghan was here to tend her on the night you left her for me. It is no coincidence that Sabha tricked you and lied to you and then cursed us both. She did not have knowledge of how to do such things. She had help, and she got it from Rioghan.”

Coiteann’s face grew dark. “It was Rioghan who ruined our relationship and who tried to ruin my life. She tried to destroy me when I had done nothing to her, and now I will have my revenge.

“She took you from me, when you were the man I wanted. Now I will take her man away from her, using some of her very own magic…and a little more, as well.”

“You must undo it,” Airt said urgently. “You must let him go! You must undo whatever it is you have done to him!”

Again, the laughter. “I cannot hold him by force. I can encourage him, but he will do what he wants. He can leave me, if that is truly his wish—but is Rioghan so much better a woman than I am? Can that cold and lonely midwife do the things for him that I can do so well? We will see which he prefers.”

She ran her fingers down Airt’s chest. “Do not worry for Donaill,” she said. “He will have a good life with me. A very good life. You, of all men, should know that.”

With that, Coiteann turned and walked away, leaving Airt standing alone with his despair to watch her as she returned to Donaill’s house.

They had been watching her for quite some time now. They always accompanied her whenever she left Sion, and they would have come running when she cried out. They were there in the trees now, and in the brush, keeping watch over her. The Sidhe.

Scath and Cogar lay on either side of Rioghan to guard her and keep her warm. She raised her head and peered into the soft twilight that filled the forest.

“What will I do?” she asked, knowing they would hear. “How could he have done this?”

A shadow moved behind one of the trees. “Those things are for you to say, and no other.”

She got to her feet, unable to sit still any longer, and found that she was cold and stiff from sitting so long in spite of the dogs’ best efforts. She began to pace, walking with slow steps from tree to tree, thinking aloud and hoping the Fair Folk could offer her some comfort.

“Was it all a lie?” Rioghan’s voice shook and her breath came fast—too fast. “Was his courtship of me, his protection of Sion, merely a game—a bit of harmless fun with the strange, reclusive woman of the cave? Perhaps he made a bet with a few of the other men. Perhaps they were all amused at the idea of he and I—”