The Boar Stone: Book Three of the Dalriada Trilogy (42 page)

‘Come,’ he said, and she was drawn in his wake as he shouldered his way through the crowd.

Outside, a swollen moon rolled over the sky between the clouds. Cahir’s eyes were alight as he drew Minna up the steps to the walls of the dun. The Pict guards glanced at them and went back to their watch. Further along the walkway was an empty tower that stared out to sea, and a moon-trail led far into the hissing darkness of the waves.

‘He listened to you.’ Minna searched Cahir’s eyes. The moonlight flickered through the racing clouds.

‘To you.’ Cahir tucked wisps of hair over her ears, holding her face.

‘I have hardly spoken to him—’

‘It was the vision, Minna, more than the stone.’

‘But he doesn’t seem a man to hearken to visions, or dreams.’

Cahir shrugged. ‘Of course, I do not trust him – I never will. I will use him, and he will use me, and that is the extent of our brotherhood. But that is enough, for neither of us can do this alone.’ Gede did have the fire in him, though: Minna had at least seen that. He wanted this as much as Cahir did.

Her arms went around Cahir’s waist and she buried her face in the warm hollow of his throat, thoughts of war and death suddenly receding far away. But when he pressed lips to the tender place behind her ear, a flame ran over her skin. Just that one, small touch, the whisper of her name, and she was a torch in his arms.

In fever, and icy water, the remnants of the child in her had been burned away, and it was a woman’s instincts that ruled her now.

He parted her lips with his tongue, and she devoured what he gave, letting herself sink into him, that heat and sweetness that was like honey and silk enveloping her whole mouth. When that ravishing kiss moved to her neck, nipping the skin, she felt the strength go out of her legs, holding to his arms as the world reeled, his muscles hard with tension under her fingers. Her hips ground into his as if she had no will over them – she wanted more than kisses now, which did not consume in the way she yearned to be consumed.

Cahir cupped her breast through her dress, and she tensed. Her nipple was exquisitely tender, and as he stroked it all feeling rushed there and she whimpered, moulding her body to his, thigh to thigh. He made a raw sound in the back of his throat as he claimed her mouth again, and she seized his free hand and cradled it to her other breast.

Crushing each other, they stumbled back against the watchtower, Cahir’s shoulders braced against the wood. ‘Gods! I could take you now, but
a stór
,’ he shuddered, ‘I don’t want the first time to be … I want to savour you, to show you—’

‘But I need you,’ she said thickly, her lips bruised. Her fingers traced the moonlit line of his bones.

‘I need you as well, but not like this, not in this dark place.’

Suddenly the hunger released her and she was trembling all over. ‘But it aches!’

He laughed unsteadily, raking back his hair. His eyes glittered in the moonlight. ‘It’s a sweet ache, though, you will see. I haven’t felt it for … much too long.’

Minna sighed and pressed her forehead to his chin. The stubble scratched her, but even that small sense was exquisite, and a tenderness swamped her, a feeling as strong as the lust. Her mind raced to when they might have the time to explore this, and be consumed … and that made her think of Dunadd again. She could not help it, for all thoughts and paths led back there.

She leaned back and gazed up at him, suddenly cold. ‘What is going to happen when we return?’

His smile faded. ‘It will be different,’ he said bluntly, taking her hand. ‘Difficult, perhaps.’

She said nothing as he smoothed a finger over each one of her nails. ‘Minna. I need to ask you again because this war is
imagining
and
hope
no longer, but real.’ He stared intently at her hand, his eyes veiled. ‘Are you really willing to be my
lennan
? Women can take their pleasure with any man, but being a king’s
lennan
is like being another queen. The people will look upon you as that, for though you are not the legal wife, the love I bear for you and the honour I do you brings its own power. You do understand what you are accepting?’

Maeve’s petulant face came to Minna. ‘Yes.’ She touched his bent head lightly, curved a hand about his neck. ‘And it is you I want – to be bonded to you.’

He looked up at her, the moon caught in his eyes. ‘It is about more than love.’ The power in his voice held her. ‘If we do this, you will be held accountable for the decisions I make. There is no way then for you to claim innocence in the face of our enemies.’ He swallowed, breathing hard. ‘So if you choose not to risk this,
a stór
, I will send you wherever you want to go – even back to Britannia.’

She shook her head, smoothed his tight jaw. ‘If I turn away from you, I turn from a land that has claimed me as its own. Don’t you see that? I am one with you: we share the blood and the dream. If I foreswear you I deny my own soul. There is no going back for me.’

Cahir expelled his breath, his fingers caressing her hard skin beneath the slave-ring. ‘I have my reasons for not striking this off right here and now, Minna. Wear this a little longer, and trust me when I say you will be free.’

Sunlight rippled over Keeva’s naked body as she stretched out on Lonán’s cloak. Unfurling leaves fluttered above them in a cold wind, but in this hollow among the bushes it was sheltered.

They were in the woods to the north of Dunadd, a deserted place because hidden in the trees was a cluster of standing stones, some fallen, some hunched upright, splotched with lichen. Keeva often came here to escape all the bustle at Dunadd – after all, they weren’t raised by
her
ancestors, and it was the one place no one ventured.

Lonán rolled on his stomach, touching a nodding hyacinth to Keeva’s small, bare breasts. She smiled lazily at him.

‘You are a shameless Attacotti maid,’ Lonán murmured, still blushing. ‘In the middle of the day! Master Fintan would have my ear if he knew that collecting firewood entailed this.’

But he had looked so intent and serious with that load of wood balanced on his shoulders. Keeva trailed a finger over one of his soot-blackened palms, the thick fingers blistered and cut. ‘I didn’t hear you protesting too loudly.’

‘You make it hard to say no,’ he mumbled.

‘Do I?’ With a sly grin, Keeva picked up one of those misshapen, burnt fingers and ran her lips and tongue over it.

‘You’ll leave me with no strength for work this day.’

But Keeva had paused, Lonán’s finger slipping from her mouth. Voices were floating from the clearing of the stones. ‘Hawen’s balls,’ Lonán hissed, grabbing for his trousers. ‘We’re not meant to be here, and you know it!’

‘No one comes here but druids.’ Keeva was on hands and knees peering through the bushes. Lonán grunted as he pulled on his trousers.

‘Goddess,’ Keeva muttered.

Lonán was madly lacing his boots. ‘What?’

‘It is the queen.’

‘So?’ Lonán grabbed for his tunic, which had been flung into a patch of primroses.

Keeva threw him a look. ‘It is the queen and that Oran man again, and the priest we saw in the port – I’m sure of it.’

‘Gods!’ Lonán tossed Keeva’s dress over her bare buttocks. ‘All the more reason to get out of here then. Hurry up!’

‘Wait.’ Keeva’s face was grim. ‘There are Dalriadan warriors there; I don’t know their names. But they are not the king’s men.’

‘Keeva, we must go.’ Lonán was tugging on his tunic. Keeva glared at him.
He
did not live in the hall. He did not know anything about the anger between queen and king, Ruarc and Oran, Carvetii and Dalriada, beyond the fact that he made swords and shield rivets and daggers for them all. He didn’t care about Minna’s baffling disappearance with the king.

Keeva felt sick; something wasn’t right. Her decision made, she flung herself down and started wriggling through the undergrowth towards the voices. Behind her Lonán hissed her name, but she ignored him.

The ground was slimy with last year’s leaves, and she got close to the stones without making much noise. In any case, the people gathered there were speaking intently and did not hear her. The queen was sitting in shadow on one of the fallen stones. The dangerous-looking priest was a silent, hooded figure beside her. Oran was addressing a group of grim warriors, around a score in all, crouched in the bracken.

‘You have been handpicked,’ he was saying in Dalriadan, ‘and I trust we have your complete loyalty.’ Some of the warriors shifted uneasily on their heels, others lowered their heads. Oran stared at them one by one. ‘Know that the payments you have received are only a fraction of what you can expect once we control the dun and port.’

Keeva pressed into the ground.
Goddess
.

‘It had better be a lot,’ one man said, shifting his shoulders as if shrugging off a weight. ‘This is no small thing you demand. It is treason.’

Maeve glared at the man. ‘Treason is a word much open to interpretation,’ she retorted. ‘It is my father who will arm those ships, and he is the King of the Carvetii—’

‘But this raid isn’t sanctioned by the Romans, is it, my lady?’ one of the warriors interrupted quietly. ‘So we could be damned by them as well as our own king.’

Oran smoothly took over. ‘Both the Dux and the queen’s father have been trying to make your king see sense for years. He refuses, and in so doing puts all his people in great danger. They are in danger from the Picts, because he persists in rejecting the protection of the Roman army; and from the Romans themselves, who grow impatient with his indecision. Now is the only chance we have to put right what has been wrong.’ His nostrils flared as he raised his chin. ‘So it is not
treason
to topple a foolish king; it is wisdom, and as we intend to install the prince Garvan as king, the line of Dalriada will still claim this throne. However,
this
young king will command allies that can protect Dunadd and allow it to prosper, bringing in more riches, more trade and better access to the markets of Roman Britannia.’ He paused. ‘More access to riches for
everyone
. And as loyal queen’s men, you will be highly favoured.’ His eyes strayed to Maeve, and they exchanged a small smile that turned Keeva’s belly.

There was a long silence. ‘We’ve already agreed,’ one man muttered. ‘No more speeches for us.’

‘Then we will turn to facts. The ships will dock at Beltaine in two weeks among the first trading fleet – any earlier and they would have attracted undue suspicion from the coastal duns.’ He shrugged. ‘Waiting for the seas to be safe was the risk we had to take. The original plan was to catch our king fox in his den,’ again that smile towards the queen, ‘but Cahir’s continued absence is neither here nor there. When he returns with his paltry guard of, what, ten men? – he will ride straight into a trap, and find himself dispossessed.’ The man in the hood laughed softly – he was no priest, Keeva thought – and Maeve’s eyes lit up.

‘Still, we cannot afford to give that mule Finbar the opportunity to resist. The takeover must be swift and complete. With the port secure, we can ride on Dunadd. You men inside,’ he indicated them, ‘will make sure the gates are kept open. There will be enough confusion to buy you time – the king has left a dun seething with resentments and uncertainty; indeed, many of the warriors are not sure to whom they give their loyalty at all. That is his great weakness, and our advantage.’ He met each frowning face in turn. ‘
So will you seize this moment
? Are you ready and willing to set this tribe to rights? It is now or never.’

The warriors agreed dourly, with no signs of excitement or pleasure. Forcing her thoughts through a storm of rage, Keeva had the presence of mind for one thing only.

She peered at every traitorous Dalriadan warrior and marked their faces, hardly daring to breathe.

Chapter 39

C
ahir and Minna sat with Gede in his hall as their men prepared to depart. Their swords had now been returned to them as a mark of the alliance, and Cahir sat more easily with his against his thigh.

The gnawed bones from the feast had been thrown on the refuse pits, the spilled cups righted, the benches swept. Gede sat beneath his wall of shields, stroking the ears of an enormous grey hound that stared at Minna from unblinking golden eyes.

‘This has to be done with the greatest surprise,’ Gede remarked through Taran, who stood as always at his shoulder.

‘And yet to muster such an army takes time. It will be hard to hide.’

‘Hard to hide, yes, but essential.’

Cahir nodded. ‘I will suspend all trade to and from my port. My mission to Erin can be taken in secret. The men should be mustered on land in small groups that only join when we leave the mountains for the plain that leads to the Wall. And the rest go by sea.’

Gede folded his fingers around his chin. ‘There is something I have not told you. On the east coast, I have certain Roman scouts in my pay.’

‘In your
pay
?’

‘They were native recruits from the Votadini.’ He sniffed. ‘The Romans have ever been complacent about their allies, as if no one would ever think to reject the Empire once they were in it.’ He smiled slyly. ‘Have you never wondered why our recent raids were so successful?’