Ain't Myth-Behaving

by Katie MacAlister

  He completely missed the irony.

  “You bloody fool,” he snarled, pulling up to an abrupt stop, one eye on the milling hellhounds. “You could have injured dear Fidencia with those filthy beasts of yours! I’ve half a mind to send them back where they belong.”

  “By all means, go ahead,” I answered with an insincere smile. “It would give me great pleasure to go before the Court with a complaint of interference by my overlord.”

  Megan gave a surprised gasp at Taranis’s response, made as he stormed off without a backward look at Fidencia. “Wow. That’s not anatomically possible, is it?” she asked.

  “Not without a winch, two pounds of unsalted butter, and four spotters. Shall we go in before the lovely but toxic Fidencia reaches our side? Ah, too late. We’re in for it now. Run and save yourself, dearling. I will stand here overflowing with manly determination as I brave the ravages of the Madwoman of Brazil.”

  Megan giggled. It was a delightful sound, one that brought joy and an odd sense of peace to my heart.

  “Noony!” Fidencia bellowed as she steamed up to us. The druid collapsed on the ground with a great heaving of his torso as he sucked in air. “How dare you abandon me! How dare you send your beastly little curs to attack me! How dare you go off with that woman and leave me behind!”

  I glanced at the woman at my side. “I’m sorry, dearling, I must touch her.”

  I grasped Fidencia firmly by her shoulders, then tightened my fingers to let her know I meant business. “You are another man’s wife! You are fat with child—a child that is not mine. You have no claim on me anymore, nor will you ever in the future. I have made my choice of wife, and you are not she. Do you understand all this?”

  “Oh, that wasn’t good,” Megan said, shaking her head, and covering her mouth with her hand.

  “What?” I asked her as Fidencia sucked in approximately half the available oxygen in Ireland.

  Then a roar broke over me with such force that I staggered backward, instinctively throwing out my arms to protect Megan.

  “Fat!” Fidencia screamed, her hands curling into talons. “I am not fat!”

  She lunged toward me, her hands outstretched.

  I held her back with one hand. “What on earth is your problem, woman?”

  “You called me fat!”

  I looked from her to Megan, confused. Megan still had a hand over her mouth, her eyes twinkling in the most delightful manner. I wanted to ravish her on the spot and thought seriously of doing so before I remembered Oprah, Deepak, and all those “how to understand the mystery that is woman” books, and acknowledged that she wouldn’t enjoy the ravishing if it was performed right there on the steps to the tower, surrounded by a half-dead druid, a maniac pregnant goddess, and six snarling hellhounds.

  “I am not fat!”

  I turned back to the hellcat fighting to get at me. “I said you were fat with child. It’s an expression you must have heard over the last six or seven hundred years, and one which I chose with great care because it’s historical, and sure to appeal to Megan.”

  Fidencia screamed with frustration. “You called me fat to make THAT WOMAN happy?”

  “Of course I did, you deranged person. It’s my duty to make her happy. She likes the history of this area, so I take special care to work into common conversation as many historically accurate terms as I can. I could just have easily have said you’ve got a bun in the oven, but it wouldn’t be nearly so historical as stating you’re fat with child.”

  “Great with child, you unfeeling historical bastard!” Fidencia snarled, freeing one hand to punch me in the chest. “The term is great with child! As in, I am great! Not fat!”

  Megan was laughing outright now.

  “I do not have time to discuss the etymology of historical terms relating to deranged pregnant women,” I said with much dignity. “The hunt is tonight, and Megan is a demanding vixen who no doubt has many needs and desires that she wishes to enact upon my poor body before that time. I will have Stewart arrange transportation back to the airport, so you can rejoin your lawful husband.”

  “I…am…not…leaving,” Fidencia hissed, and marched past me to the tower.

  “Fine, but I’ll have to charge you the off-season rates for a room,” I called after her. As the gesture she made was wholly unnecessary—not to mention unsuitable for a woman of her standing—I decided the best thing was to ignore it.

  “Oof,” Megan said as I scooped her into my arms. “Dane! You can’t do that right here, out in the open!”

  “Why not? This is my castle, you are my wife-to-be, and your lips have been singing a siren song I’ve been unable to resist. Not that I’ve tried very hard.”

  She squirmed out of my grasp, the laughter fading from her eyes. “Yes, well…er…I think we need to talk.”

  “Again? Excellent. Let’s get naked while we’re doing it again. In fact, let’s make love while we’re doing it.” I threaded my fingers through hers and started to pull her up the stairs.

  She grabbed the stone lion at the bottom and held on for dear life. “Dane! We can’t!”

  I stopped and frowned down from two steps above her. “Why can’t we? We did so quite successfully at the cove, and I assure you, we will get better the more we practice. Or is there some quirk in your makeup that you only desire me outdoors? If so, I’d like to remind you that I am an enlightened, modern man who is more than happy to put up with all sorts of kinky demands you might make, not that making love outside is particularly kinky, but say you had other kinky desires, such as ones involving role play, feather dusters, or economy-size containers of dessert topping, why then, I would be perfectly happy to indulge your wildest desires without the slightest word of complaint.”

  “No,” she said, the beginnings of a smile at the corners of her mouth. “That’s not it at all. Feathers and dessert topping?”

  I gave her my best leer. “Oh, yes. At the same time.”

  Her eyes did that soft, slightly-out-of-focus thing that sent a little thrill of passion zipping down to my groin. “Good Lord. Perhaps I could make the time…” She interrupted herself by shaking her head. “This is ridiculous. I can’t even have a conversation with you without indulging in the most detailed fantasies. And no, that wasn’t an invitation,” she added, holding up her hand as I leaped down the stairs to her side. “I really do want to talk to you about these ceremonies.

  “For one, I’m not happy about the idea of a hunt. I know it’s your country’s tradition to hunt foxes, but I’m very much opposed to blood sports, and I absolutely won’t participate in one. It’s probably too much for me to ask you to not do so as well, but if there was any way I could convince you—”

  I covered her mouth gently with my hand, thought for a moment, then replaced my hand with my mouth.

  “Relax, dearling,” I said as I gave her bottom lip a quick nibble, just to let her know I cared. “It’s not a fox hunt. There will be no blood, unless one of the virgins gets out. The traditional Beltane hunt has human prey. Damn. There’s Stewart, and he’s looking as if he’d like my head on a platter. I’m afraid your wonderful seduction is going to have to wait, sweet one. After the hunt? Yes?”

  I gave her one more kiss, then another after that because she looked so delightfully befuddled, before going to see what problem had cropped up.

  “But…humans? Dane!” Megan grabbed at the back of my shirt. “Stop!”

  “You insist on the seduction now?” I sighed, leaning over the edge of the staircase to yell up to Stewart, “It’ll just have to wait an hour or two, Stewart. Megan insists on having her way with me right now. I know, you have need of me as well, and don’t think I wouldn’t like to go slave away over a hot computer, rather than have Megan seduce me. But I am nothing if not a man of my word, and I promised her she could.”

  “No!” Megan pinched me. “I don’t insist on anything of the kind! I…I don’t quite know what possessed me out at that secret spot of yours, but…well, we’re
here now, and sanity has thankfully returned to me. Or what I think is sanity—I’m a bit doubtful if I’m a qualified judge anymore. Regardless, we are not going to make love again.”

  A little whimper may have escaped me at that point; I’m not exactly certain. “We aren’t?”

  “No.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “And you can stop looking like your dog just died, because that heart-meltingly lost look isn’t going to sway me.”

  I took a step down until I could peer into her lovely, if stormy, eyes. “You break my heart, dearling, you truly do. You know that above all else, I yearn to make love to you again. And again. And again after that. You’re rejecting me because you think I don’t value you beyond the almost overwhelming desire to bury myself deep inside you, in the heat of you, in your fiery, soft depths, plunging deeper and deeper until that moment of absolute ecstasy overtakes us, and we transcend beyond the thrusting, pounding, and taking absolute possession that defines mankind. It’s because of the fact that I ache with a need that is beyond painful to know every square inch of you that you are spurning me, is that not so?”

  Megan blinked a couple of times before she cleared her throat and shifted her weight. “Er…no.”

  “Ah! Then it’s because you want to have a traditional wedding night! You wish to keep yourself until then.” It almost killed me to do so, but I nodded. “I understand. And despite the fact that I am a man, with a man’s need to possess you as only I can, by plunging, thrusting, and pounding into your feminine depths, not to mention appropriate worship of breasts that are so beautiful they bring a tear to my eye and tightness to my groin, despite all that, I am willing to give you this gift of my understanding and support and affection. I will honor your desire and not make love to you until after the wedding. The one tomorrow night, that is—because it might just kill me if I have to wait until after the Beltane vows are spoken.”

  “Er…” Megan looked a bit dazed. I put it down to her unspoken admiration for my understanding of her true self. “All right. No! Wait, that’s not it at all. I just need a little time to myself—”

  I leaned in to kiss her, and stopped with my lips barely brushing hers. “And you shall have it, dearling.”

  Her eyes crossed as I plundered briefly before running up the stairs to my study. I had to get away from her before I went back on my word and ravaged her right there on the stairs.

  “Dane! Wait a minute! About this hunt tonight—”

  At the top floor I leaned over the balustrade and yelled down, “Wear something dark. It’ll be harder that way for anyone to spot you.”

  Twelve

  I looked out at the gathered audience, satisfaction filling me. The evening’s activities were about to begin, Megan was present—although it had taken some quick explaining to get her there, since she’d sworn she wouldn’t step foot out of her room until she knew for a fact that no one was going to be harmed in the hunt—the druids were massed and ready to go, and the local hunt group was getting quite drunk on their traditional stirrup cup.

  The only blots on my existence were the presence of Fidencia, who huddled pathetically in a soft woolen shawl I’d plucked from the gift shop with the intention of giving to Megan, and the smarmy man who stood next to her.

  “Why the hell did you let Taranis in?” I asked Stewart. “He’s just here to cause trouble. You’ve seen the way he’s ogled Megan.”

  “He’s your overlord. I couldn’t very well refuse him when he showed up.”

  “There’s nothing in the laws that govern us that says I have to put up with him at a Beltane celebration. I’ll throw him out.”

  “You’ll do nothing of the kind,” a soft, feminine voice said from behind my left shoulder.

  I turned to her. “But, dearling—”

  “Despite your unjustified jealousy, which I have to admit is a bit flattering, I can assure you that there is nothing Taranis can do that will make me go back on my word to you. Don’t you trust me?”

  “Of course I do. Absolutely and completely. Have I not committed myself heart and soul to you? That wouldn’t be possible with someone I don’t trust. Taranis, however, is another matter.”

  Megan’s eyes turned curious. “Heart and soul? Really?”

  “He has no soul, darling,” Fidencia drawled as she moved toward us. “And his heart is a blackened, shriveled up pea. How else could he treat me in such an appalling manner?”

  “Guests are not allowed up on the platform—” I started to say, but she took the microphone with both hands.

  “People of Bannon, I bid thee welcome!”

  “That’s my job!” I tried to take the microphone from her, but she growled at me. Growled!

  “No doubt you are all wondering why a strange woman’s face is on the few pieces of merchandise which Elfwine made available,” Fidencia said, gesturing toward a nearby stand. “I know you’re all extremely disappointed that the official Fidencia items aren’t available this year. Who among you could be happy with that woman’s face on your underwear? I sympathize with you, I truly do.”

  I made a play for the microphone, but Fidencia is not a woman who takes well to having something removed from her possession.

  “What did she say?” Megan asked in a whisper.

  I wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. “For protection,” I told her when she raised an eyebrow. “You never know when Fidencia might go barking mad and try to assault you or something.”

  Megan rolled her eyes before asking, “What did she mean about my face on someone’s underwear? I thought there wasn’t going to be any merchandise?”

  “Stewart had a word with Elfwine, and she came up with a few things.”

  A female shopper at the merchandise booth held up a garment to the man next to her, eyeing it critically.

  Megan’s lips thinned as she watched the couple. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with the placing of my face on the men’s boxers…”

  “Many of you have asked why Cernunnos has cast me aside for another. Just a few minutes ago, a very sweet young druid girl flung herself at my feet, and looked up at me with imploring eyes. ‘Lady Fidencia,’ she said, ‘why are you not our lady again this year, as you have been for the last one thousand years? Why have you been forsaken?’ And beloved people of Bannon, I could not answer her.”

  “Oh for God’s sake…” I got one hand on the microphone, but Fidencia tried twisting out of the way in order to retain her grip on it. I had enough fingers on it, however, so that by angling my head, I was able to speak into it. “It was over fifteen hundred years ago, you daft woman, and in case there’s someone out there who doesn’t know the truth, you left me for your Greco-Latin boy toy. If there was any forsaking to be done, you were the one doing it!”

  “Oh!” she shrieked, and tried to bite my arm. “You beast!”

  “I’m not the one trying to bite! That’s it, I’ve had enough!” I wrapped an arm around her to hold her in place while trying to pry the microphone out of her hand. “Stewart, a little assistance here, if you please.”

  “What would you like me to do, knock her out?” he asked, his lips pursing as he watched our struggle.

  “You wouldn’t dare!” Fidencia shrieked even louder, possibly piercing my eardrum.

  I had a horrible idea of the picture we made—a pregnant goddess and myself in traditional hunt wear fighting for control of the microphone—and shot Megan a reassuring smile. “I’ll be with you in a moment, dearling.”

  The corners of her mouth twitched.

  “How dare you call her that while you’re holding me!” Fidencia yelled, and lunged for my shoulder, her teeth catching the edge of my leather jerkin.

  I leaned my head out of the way of her snapping teeth, which luckily was toward the microphone. “Welcome to Bannon Castle,” I managed to get out, smiling at the people standing in stunned silence. Even the hunt club had stopped the inflow of alcohol to watch with wide eyes. Fidencia tried to knee me in the groin. I managed to
block that, but just barely. “And welcome to the annual Beltane Hunt. We’re having a slight technical difficulty, but things should be starting in just a moment.”

  “You see the way he treats me! He is abusing me! He is harming the precious child I carry!”

  “On the contrary,” I said through my teeth, “I’m being very careful not to hurt you, which is more than can be said for you! Stop biting me! Stewart!”

  My steward of many centuries just stood there wringing his hands. “I would help you if I could, sir, but I don’t wish to harm Lady Fidencia—”

  “Oh, for goodness sake, I’ll do it,” Megan said with something that sounded very much like a snort. She marched over to where Fidencia and I were locked in battle and started prying Fidencia’s fingers off the microphone.

  I smiled at her over the top of Fidencia’s head. Could there have been a more supportive, more perfect woman in the world? “Have I told you today how much I worship you?”

  Fidencia screamed a word that had even Stewart looking shocked. Megan was working on the last finger when a bellow emerged from the depths of the crowd.

  “Take yer filthy ’ands off me wife!”

  The crowd parted to allow a man through. He was of medium height, with dark, curly hair and darker eyes.

  “Your husband, I presume?” I asked Fidencia.

  “Dion?” she whispered, looking startled for a moment before her eyes flashed with fury. Her bellow was almost as impressive as his. “You dog! You mangy cur! You beast of the darkest depths of Abaddon!”

  “Sounds like a husband to me,” Megan said with a smile, releasing her hold on Fidencia. I did likewise, moving over to stand next to Megan.

  “Aw, now, me lovely one, don’t be sayin’ such cruel things to me,” Dionysus said as he leaped onto the platform. He held open his arms, clearly expecting Fidencia to fling herself into them. I, having been around her much longer than he had, snatched the microphone and stand out of her reach before she could brain him with them. “Ye’re lookin’ ravishin’, me beauty.”