Boom… two more priests, lamps swinging, came up from the cave, walked to the altar stone, took their places at each side. Boom… boom… boom… a thunderous roll began, building to a frenzy. Boom… the goddess rose slowly from the earth's womb, bronze eagle gleaming on her head, fire glowing in her dark, braided hair. Boom… the white cloak shone round her shoulders, sparks shimmered round her throat. Boom… lit ghostly by moonlight, the bringer of life stepped out from underground, and stopped.
‘Aye-yia-yaa!’ the islanders screamed from the surrounding slopes. ‘Bride! Bride! Bride!’
Boom… the goddess stood on the rim of her domain, facing her consort. Between them lay the white-shrouded length of moon-bright altar. White-robed druids stood on either side. Behind the man, great twin fires blazed. Behind the woman, the twin drums thundered. Above them shone the full moon of Beltane. All around, firelight leapt and flickered.
‘Aye-yie-yaa!’ the audience shrieked, ecstatic. ‘Aye-yie-yaa!’
Boom… the drum urged.
Skaaha didn't move. Ruan waited at that altar. A long red cloak fell from his shoulders. Light glowed on the torc around his neck, on the goblet he held. Shadows danced across his face and eyes. I am Skaaha, of the tribe of… she tried to run the words through her head, but they didn't fit. She was Bride, about to become Danu, and she couldn't move.
Boom… the drum urged again.
Leaning forwards, his long grey beard quivering, the master druid spoke in Ruan's ear. ‘Go to her,’ he said.
‘You know I can't,’ Ruan muttered.
‘Shorten the distance.’ The old man took the goblet from the consort's hands.
Boom… if a drumbeat could question, that one did.
From below Skaaha, on the steps of the cave, Eefay reached up and grabbed her sister's ankle. ‘You have to walk towards him,’ she hissed. Still Skaaha didn't move. ‘Enough of this,’ Eefay muttered, mounting the next few steps. As her head popped above ground, she saw Ruan come towards them, the red cloak flaring out as he strode. She ducked down. ‘He's coming over,’ she hissed to Nechta and the remaining druids still chanting at the foot of the steps below her. Two worried faces looked back. The goddess couldn't be compelled.
Boom… the drum warned.
Ruan stopped just before he reached Skaaha. Extending his left arm, he offered his hand for her to take, a question written on his face. Skaaha's brow furrowed.
‘What's the knife for?’ she asked.
He tilted his head a little to one side. ‘To kill myself if you won't come to me,’ he said.
The frown deepened. ‘Would you do that?’
‘If I fail.’
She stepped forwards, took his hand, began to walk. The drum boomed relief. The crowd shrieked, yelling with delight. Eefay rose from the cave to march behind, head held high, spear erect, helmet and weapons picking up the light. At her back, the last two druids emerged. Smoothly, without breaking their chant, they followed Eefay, swinging their lamps. The goddess and her consort stopped at the foot of the altar.
Boom…
‘Stay beside her,’ Nechta whispered to Ruan as she passed. ‘Use this.’ Turning to face across the white-draped stone, she sat the pot of oils in front of him. The chant ended. On harps and pipes, the final chords from the song of Bride faded, ceased. One final roll, and the drums fell silent. The crowd held its collective breath.
Raising the goblet to the moon, the senior priest spoke the blessing, gave the cup to the druid on his left, who passed it on till it reached Ruan, the only one who drank, a deep draught. Turning to Skaaha, he offered it.
‘Drink,’ he suggested, with half a smile. ‘For luck.’
The sweet, narcotic liquid swallowed easy but lit a small fire in her throat. Murmurs rose as the crowd drew breath, the compact sealed. The druid on Skaaha's left took the goblet, passed it back. When it reached the senior priest, the others left to sit between their male colleagues, behind each small, alternate fire. The priest raised the goblet to the great Beltane fires. On the moonlit hillsides, murmuring ceased.
‘Bride accepts her consort,’ he called. ‘It is time!’
‘Aye-yie-yaaa!’ yelled the islanders. ‘Danu! Danu! Danu!’
Booboom… the drums began, beating out the rhythm of the fire dance. Booboom… booboom… booboom… the dancers stamped and turned around their partners, circling the ring of flame.
As the master druid arrived to take it, Ruan unpinned his cloak. Skaaha reached up, pulled feather pin and brooch apart to free her own. Behind her, Eefay drew the cloak from her sister's shoulders and draped it on her spear arm. Reaching round, she took brooch and pin from Skaaha's hands.
‘Enjoy,’ she whispered to her sister and, unable to resist, glanced at Ruan. ‘Nice,’ she said, cheekily. ‘Hope you know how to use it.’ She and the priest left the ring of fire to wait behind the well of Bride.
Skaaha gazed at Ruan. Apart from armlet and torc, the glow of fire on his skin, the scabbard that replaced his sling and pouch, he was as naked as he had been during all their sessions on the beach. Nothing had changed, yet everything was different. His eyes had not left her face since she stepped out from the cave.
Nor had the crowd ceased yelling. The drums held pace, the novices and their partners stamped the beat around the edge of the circle, forbidden, yet, to touch.
‘Forget them,’ Ruan said, putting his hands on Skaaha's shoulders. ‘here is just you and me.’ He had no idea what was wrong.
Skaaha stretched up, face against his cheek. ‘Nechta put oil between my legs,’ she whispered, ‘and when I saw you, I couldn't walk.’
21
Ruan's face creased, a chuckle shook him, and he pulled her close, kissing her forehead, face, her mouth. Whatever she expected, it was not such tenderness, or the fire in her flesh that flared with his touch, cupping her face, stroking her throat. Longing surged like a flood-tide, stripping her strength again, body leaning into him. Her arms went round his waist, palms reading the shape of his back, the line of spine. New sensations rushed in – his blood heat, skin texture, taut muscles, chest brushing her breasts, their bellies touching, and their thighs. Against her abdomen, his cock moved, growing hard. She put her hand down to touch.
Ruan's breath drew in sharply. He stepped back beyond reach. For those close enough to see, his arousal was obvious. His eyes raked her hair, face, throat, breasts, belly – every detail, to her toes.
‘You've seen me before,’ she said, wriggling at the scrutiny.
‘Not like this.’ Firelight, reflected in his eyes, made them fierce. ‘Not as a man who's about to fuck.’ His cock jerked in response. Closing the gap between them, he touched the torc round her throat. ‘Ard is a magician.’
‘It's you who's different.’
His fingers lingered, tracing her breastbone with the back of his knuckles, over her breast. ‘No.’ Gripping her shoulders, he turned her around, spoke in her ear. ‘It only seems that way.’ He held her close with one arm, chest against her back, hips pressing into her buttocks, lips brushing the back of her neck, while he reached out to the pot Nechta had left.
‘She did that, I told you.’ Boom…
‘There is more to do.’ From behind, he stroked the swell of her breasts with small rhythmic circles. ‘It will help.’ Waves of pleasure washed through her limbs. Her head tipped back into the crook of his neck, eyelids flickering as if against bright light, mouth tasting his skin, brushing the rougher jaw-line, breathing in the scent of him. Touch became a continuous caress of arms, chest, ribs, belly and hips down to the inside of her thighs, gently rubbing in the oil. Boom…
‘Danu! Danu! Danu!’ yelled the islanders.
‘Turn round,’ he whispered. There was darkness in his tone, a foreign depth. The flexed muscles of his arms held her up. Her legs barely would.
‘I might fall.’ Her arms went round his neck.
‘Only into me.’ His kiss was fierce now, bruising, lips parted, tongue searching, touching he
rs – the surge of up-fire raised her hips towards him, belly moving against the swollen hardness of his erection. Keeping her tight to him, hand pressed between her shoulders, he stroked oil smoothly into her back, waist, buttocks, the rise and fall of his chest deeper with every breath. Something more should happen, and she ached for it, not certain what till his hand moved between their bellies, her thighs parting to allow the stroke of fingers into her vulva. Boom…
As if a fire was stoked, desire mounted like desperation, and she was kissing him, his face, neck and throat, his shoulders and his mouth again. ‘Please,’ she begged, ‘please,’ not knowing what she asked, except for mounting pleasure, except for release, except for the ache behind her clitoris that was an agonizing hunger.
‘Soon,’ he promised, voice deep and heavy in her ear. ‘Soon.’ Between her thighs, behind the tremor, his hand shifted towards that ache, pushing against and, his fingers, into… Boom…
‘Aahh!’ She cried out with pain, clung to him, burying her face into the crook of his neck, and cried out again as the next thrust of his finger jagged into her.
‘Aye-yie-yaaa!’ yelled the islanders.
Her thighs clamped together, trapping his hand, though she still clung, bewildered, face buried in his neck, body quivering. ‘That hurt.’
The crowd didn't seem to care. ‘Danu! Danu!’ they urged. Out on the fringes, some couples already fucked. High above, the moon sailed, skimming scattered clouds, half-way towards midnight. Inside the ring, several dancers looked perturbed. Boom…
‘It won't last’ – he kissed her hair, her ear – ‘I promise.’ His voice was ragged, rougher. He eased his hand back from between her thighs till it was free and gently teasing around her clitoris again. His erection surged. Eyes, darker than Ruan's ever were, gazed into hers. ‘Don't be afraid.’
Her palms slapped into his chest… ‘I’… pushing him back… ‘am’… hard… ‘Skaaha!’
On the mound below the twin fires, Suli rose to her feet. Something had changed; the tension in the crowd was charged with alarm. Opposite, on the slopes, Mara clenched her fists. It was going wrong. A thin smile curled her lip. Boom… the dancers dropped to a crouch. Something unexpected had happened. The rhythmic beat ceased.
Know your enemy. The words leapt in Skaaha's head, Kerrigen's. Words Suli had repeated. He dared to cause her pain. But she had seen his weakness. That made her strong. Let him be fearful. ‘I will honour you,’ she said, taking oil from the pot.
‘Not with that.’ His brows came down. ‘I won't be able to…’
‘You hurt me,’ she cut in, sharply, ‘so you're mine.’
He hesitated. Then his hands spread outwards in surrender.
Skaaha smoothed the oil down over Ruan's cock. Boom… from his vantage point, the drummer was quick to pick up. The crowd caught on, roared, bellowing with delight and laughter. Copulating couples stopped and rose to watch. Skaaha gripped the whole erect length of her consort's penis, slippery now, and moved her hands slowly up and down. Again, his breath gasped inwards. His hands clutched her shoulders. Boom… boom… boom…
The seated druids exchanged puzzled looks. Nechta's oil helped arousal, made penetration easier for the goddess. On Ruan, who didn't need it, it would delay release. Smothered smiles travelled round the group.
Among the Ardvasar warriors, on the slope above the ring, Vass glanced at Fion. Both men grinned.
Fronting the Kylerheans, Ard looked down at Erith.
‘You did warn her it would hurt?’
‘Of course’ – a pause – ‘I think.’ Erith shrugged. ‘Somebody must have.’
When a man behind suggested Fion might have taught Skaaha more than they guessed, the blacksmith turned and floored the speaker with a single blow.
Moving forward beyond the bonfires' heat, Suli leaned on her staff, listening patiently. All the auspicious omens for this Beltane could not be wrong. Danu's sign, the warrior who strode the stars, was rising in the east. Since Kerrigen became the goddess nineteen suns had passed – the time it took the heavens to repeat the exact same pattern of stars. The same sky spread above them now as then.
Across the slopes, at the head of her warrior chapter, Mara craned to see. The old rivalry rose in her throat, threatening to choke her. It was like watching Kerrigen again down there – the same shape and form, the same dark, bewitching looks, the same arrogant confidence. She breathed deep, calming her rage. The daughter of her dead enemy might not become Danu after all, not if she kept this up.
In the ring of druids, Arin considered Ruan's stamina. If the consort failed to bring the goddess here, someone else must. The smallest druid's fingers crossed.
Around the now-seated novices inside the circle, girls grinned at boys, most of whom ducked shyly. One brave lad put his soon-to-be woman's hand under his loin cloth. Another tried to hide the premature patch of damp on his, and hoped for time.
Nuzzling into Ruan, kissing his ear, allowing his hands to trace her breasts and tease her nipples, Skaaha fought a rising passion. Using her body to raise his excitement was becoming dangerous. Guided by the drum, the increased rhythm of her strokes didn't work. Ruan was oblivious with ecstasy, but nothing more happened. Hanick would have been a stained heap on the cavern floor by now. Maybe she was doing something wrong. She dropped on to her knees. Booboom… The crowd roared.
Smiling, she chewed her lip. The drums spoke to her, egging her on, just as they'd spoken to him. Ruan's erection jumped in her hands. His hands cupped the crown of her head. Clearly, there was something to be done down here. She kissed the swollen tip of his cock. Even without the dancers' gasps, the drum roll or the islanders yelling themselves hoarse, the instant jerk was confirmation. Tentatively, she tasted it with her tongue. Ruan's fingers tightened in her hair. The oil had a smoky flavour, and a musky saltiness that might be man. She licked again, parted her lips around it, moving forward so the warm flesh filled her mouth. Booboom… boom… boom…
It was a mistake. Ruan groaned. Both of his hands gripped her head, his hips rocked, the smallest movement but enough. Power shifted back to him. He could hold her there, make her choke. Her oily fingers searched his scrotum, not to disable him but so she could if there was need. A shudder ran up his thigh muscle. Another groan came from above her. What he controlled was a desire to thrust, not her. All she need do was clench her teeth, close her fist round one testicle, squeeze, or draw that blade from the scabbard at his thigh.
How vulnerable he was, and trusting. Tenderness spread like light inside her. She wanted to go on, to be the giver of his pleasure. Her lips surrounded his flesh, tongue playing with the texture, moving so his cock rode in and out. Passion overtook desire, overwhelmed her.
‘Skaaha, you're killing me,’ he groaned. It was true. If his seed spilled on the ground, Beltane could not begin. If he was spent in her mouth, womanhood would not be reached. Danu would not become. His manhood would be forfeit. Shakily, she rose. His hands guided, steadying. Booboom… Her arms wound round his neck.
‘We should fuck now,’ she breathed.
He raised her body up, as if it weighed nothing, wrapped her thighs around his waist. With his hands under her buttocks, he shifted his hips till the swollen top of his erection pressed into the back of her vulva.
Skaaha clung on round his neck. There was nowhere it could go. This was not going to work. It was not going to work. Then he let her weight drop, and stopped it.
‘Aahhh!’ she shrieked. ‘Aaahhh!’
‘Danu, Danu, Danu!’ the crowd roared. Boobooom… Boobooom…
‘Breathe, my love,’ he murmured against her shoulder, holding her so tight she couldn't move. ‘It's all right.’
Nothing was all right. She had split open, something swelled inside her. ‘Is it done?’ she groaned. ‘Is it?’
‘Mmm.’ He breathed deep. ‘Almost.’ And he let her drop further, rocking his pelvis, thrusting up.
‘Aaahhh!’ she yelled again, louder, before sinking her te
eth into his neck.
‘Aye-yie-yaaa!’ the crowd went crazy. ‘Danu, Danu, Danu.’ They jumped around, hugged each other, cheered. Some had tears in their eyes, others screamed with joy. ‘Aye-yie-yaaa!’ Booboom… boom… boom… the drums thundered.
Ruan turned, still holding her tight to him, carefully lowering them both on to the altar, kissing her face, her mouth, her throat as he laid her down with him above, still joined. The woollen cloth cushioned the stone, softer than she expected. Nor did she expect to kiss him back, not after that, but she did and kept on doing it, her legs still wrapped around his waist as he began to rock, with slow, deep thrusts, into her. Every stroke made flames of fire dance on her skin. Inside her flesh pleasure mounted with intensity she could never have imagined or believed, and with each thrust desire grew, for more and more of him.
Led by the drums, the seated priests began the rhythmic chant for Danu, the rise and fall of ululation a wild celebration. For the waiting dancers in the ring of fire, prohibition lifted. Yellow loin cloths were discarded. White skirts, untied, were spread beside each fire. Among the crowd, festival mead was passed around, people danced, joined the chant, or let their own desire loose.
Suli settled again on her grassy mound, content. The air throbbed with excitement and the sound of coupling. Born in the dark of a thirteenth moon, Skaaha fulfilled all the prophecies. Legend, too, was relived, the goddess deflowered by her warrior priest. In the many generations since, history had not repeated so exactly. This Beltane, already late, would be worth the wait. Age wearied her body, but the high priest's mind remained sharp. Her instinct proved correct, her vision was confirmed.
Warrior Daughter Page 19
