“I’m sorry,” she said, not knowing what else to say.
“You will be,” he answered.
* * *
The next day, she was staring at her gold-spun gossamer wedding gown in a looking glass when her parents entered the room.
“You look radiant,” her mother said, and even her father looked proud. He cleared his throat.
“The Departing will take place immediately after the binding ceremony,” he said. “So we will say our goodbyes now.”
Kier nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She clasped hands with both of them and kissed them on both cheeks. “May the Four Cities welcome you, and may they be as beautiful as you remember,” she said.
“May your life be long and blessed, Queen Kier,” her mother replied.
“You will bring our family great honor,” her father said. “Now, come. It is time.”
The wedding was simpler than she had expected. They stood on the dais of the courtyard of the Hall, where all public assemblies of note were held. The courtyard was crowded with the noblest of their people, but Kier’s back was to them. It was better this way, she knew. If Lorcan had somehow joined the assembly and was watching her marry another man, she did not know if her resolve would hold. She was grateful that his name had not even been considered for an invitation.
The Dagda, who had been the first High King of the Tuatha Dé Danann, bound their hands together with the soft young branches of an enchanted tree. Each of the Elders said words of blessing over them. And then it was over, and she was the queen of Tír na nÓg.
And she felt more powerless than ever.
CHAPTER FOUR
Several months later, Kier was alone in the large chamber she shared with Brogan. She was sitting at the marble dresser in the corner of the room, brushing out her long hair. The light from a nearby window warmed her face, but she did not smile at her reflection. Brogan was on Ériu—again. She didn’t know what he did there, but she had her suspicions. She remembered his words clearly. There is no reason why the things that have made us happy in the past cannot continue to do so once we are wed. Apparently the thing—or person—that had made him happy in the past was living on Ériu. There was a feeling of discomfort in her chest, but it wasn’t jealously—though she had grown fond of Brogan, she could hardly say she was in love with him. Theirs was a marriage of companionship and shared ideals—both were motivated by the desire to see their people and kingdom prosper. They enjoyed each other’s company, laughed at the same jokes, and enjoyed the same tales. The sex was as good as it could be between two people who lacked a strong emotional connection. Perhaps someday their relationship would deepen into something else; she didn’t know. Could two people who had not chosen each other ever truly fall in love? So she wasn’t sure why she felt this way whenever he disappeared through a secret sidh to Ériu, sometimes for only one night, sometimes for days at a time. She often thought of Lorcan, but he had made his position very clear, and she did not attempt to contact him.
Be strong, she told herself, straightening her chin and regarding herself in the mirror. You’re the queen, do not mope about these men in your life. As though to prove the point, she picked a delicate silver tiara off her dressing table and placed it on her head. The strands of silver wove together around her head, joining in a point that dipped down onto her forehead. There. You look the part, she said to herself. Now act it. She lifted her hands so that her palms were open in front of her, and allowed two small pillars of fire to rise from them. She had always found strength in her ability to create and control fire, though her parents had repeatedly cautioned her to use her talent only when needed.
“The crown suits you,” came a voice from beside her. Her flames shot up into the air and she opened her mouth to scream, but a leather-clad hand deftly wrapped around her mouth, keeping her silent. She recognized the glove and the scent that suddenly assaulted her senses. She extinguished the flames immediately.
“Lorcan,” she gasped, twisting out of his grasp. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you, of course,” he said, stepping back to take in the royal chambers. “It’s been far too long.”
“But how did you get in? How did you get past the guards?” She hadn’t heard any sign of a struggle.
“I’ve learned a few tricks,” he said. “Tell me, is our High King slumming it with mortals again?”
She stiffened at his words, but didn’t offer him an answer. Lorcan wasn’t waiting for one. In a second he was beside her, down on one knee. He grabbed her hands and pressed his lips to them. “I would never leave you alone like this, Kier.”
Her hands tingled where he had kissed them, and she longed to reach out and run them through his soft blond hair. Her heart was beating so hard she feared she might choke on it. Had he finally forgiven her? She pulled her hands out of his grasp and stood up. “Lorcan, what are you doing here? If they find you…”
“Shhhh,” he said, putting his index finger to her lips. “You are worth the risk, Kier. I’ve waited long enough.” He cupped his hand behind her head and kissed her, his lips pressing into hers with a desperation that forestalled her initial protest. As she reveled in the familiar sensation, she realized what it was she had been feeling before: loneliness. Her life with Brogan was content enough, but she was ever so lonely, especially when he was in Ériu, with his human mistress or whomever he went to see. Lorcan’s kiss was breathing new life into her, so she returned it with a passion she hadn’t felt in months.
“Kier, Kier, Kier,” he whispered in the few moments when his mouth was not pressed hungrily against hers. “Everything will be as it should.”
“You said you didn’t want to see me,” she murmured.
“I’ve changed my mind. You are worth fighting for,” he replied.
She barely heard what he was saying, so intent was she on the flood of warmth and desire that was rushing through her. It had been so long since she had felt so wanted. She brushed away the flicker of guilt when he lifted her onto the bed and covered her body with his own. Brogan had opened this door, by both his words and his actions, and she was going to rush through it.
* * *
Later, as they lay exhausted, Kier stared at the ceiling, her mind and heart reeling from what had just happened. A sheet was wrapped around her body, but Lorcan was reclining against the pillows, ankles crossed and arms behind his head, completely naked, as if he feared no one and nothing. The loneliness Kier had felt before Lorcan’s surprise visit began to creep back into her, and she snuggled close to him. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.
“Tell me, beautiful Kier, if the Elders closed all the sidhe, how does your husband travel when he leaves you all alone?”
She felt a pang in her heart and pressed herself closer to him. “They are all closed—all except for one. It is a secret sidh he created so he can visit his mistress on Ériu.” She could hear the bitterness in her own voice, and didn’t like it.
“Do not worry, my darling. I have not been idle these past few months,” he said. “I have been devising a plan—one that will set everything to rights.”
“A plan for what?”
“I’ve had this dream for a long while, but it was impossible to act while the Elders ruled. Now that they are gone, there is no reason why we cannot make it into a reality. I have become convinced that it is the only way forward for our people.”
“What are you talking about?” She looked at him curiously. He had changed over the last few months. He seemed bolder, more confident.
“Do you remember that day on the hill, when I told you about my ability, and you told me the Elders had closed the sidhe?”
“Of course,” she replied.
“I was the reason they closed the sidhe,” he said. “I suppose I can’t take all the credit, but I was the first to recognize that something had to be done.”
“Done about what?”
“Oh, Kier, you are too tenderhearted for
your own good. You have believed all the stories about the gentleness and harmlessness of humans. They’re all lies, don’t you see? Too many of our people have forgotten our great humiliation, which was deliberately underplayed by the Elders. But I have started reminding them. The humans are not our friends, Kier. They are our enemies.”
Kier blinked at him in surprise and sat up. Had he always felt this way? Had she been too blinded by love to notice? “I know you are proud of our race,” she said. “But…the humans have done nothing to us. What makes them our enemies?”
“And that is the great lie you—and too many others—have bought into!” he said. “Why do you think we are in Tír na nÓg in the first place? We did not choose to come here—we came with our tails between our legs after the Milesians defeated us—defeated the mighty Elders—on Ériu. It is an insult that must be repaid. Now do you understand?”
“No, I don’t!” Kier said, looking at him as though she was seeing him for the first time. “That was thousands of years ago in human time. Those warriors are all dead. The humans who live now have no quarrel with us, nor have they done anything to provoke our wrath.”
“Their very existence should provoke our wrath,” he said.
“You never spoke like this when we were together,” Kier said. “What has happened to you?”
“We rarely debated these issues, but I assure you, I have felt this way for some time. I did not mention it because your father already disapproved of me enough. But now he is gone, along with all of the faithless Elders.”
“So you hate the Elders as well?”
“It was our Elders who were weak, who allowed our land to be taken from us. For all their talk of power and glory, have you seen any of them in battle? Of course not. They prefer to gorge themselves in the feasting halls all day, and then spend their nights listening to the minstrels and pleasing themselves with their women. It is of little surprise that they were defeated. They were passive, as we are now. They let down their guard, allowing a few measly humans to depose them from their rightful home—our rightful home.”
“Lorcan, this isn’t you talking,” Kier said.
“This is me, Kier. It’s who I was meant to be.” His face was earnest, as though he was begging her to believe him. “Don’t you see? The Elders have left, retreating even more. But the time has come for us to act. We need to take back our land, the land of Ériu.”
Kier could not believe what she was hearing. She had to talk sense into him somehow. “But what of the humans? They won the battle, Ériu is rightfully theirs now,” she said.
Lorcan jerked away from her and climbed out of bed. He began pulling on his trousers. “That, my dear, is the deception that you—and everyone else—has bought into. It is not rightfully theirs because they won a single battle. Our people gave up far too easily. It was a disgrace. Think about it, Kier. Humans are weak, they are easily injured, and they fall prey to illness and death at an alarming rate. They live short, insignificant lives. It would be no challenge to defeat them. We could do it within a day.”
“Lorcan, wait. I know you dislike the humans, and I know you feel that Ériu is ours…but what is wrong with Tír na nÓg? We have everything we could possibly want here. Why must we go to war? We have no quarrel with the humans now—they do not even believe we exist. What reason would there be to go after them except revenge?”
“I thought you, of all people, would understand,” he said, disappointment written across his face. “It is more than revenge, although revenge is certainly due. Kier…we could rule together. You and I. We could subdue the humans, who would see us for the gods that we are. It would only be a matter of sending our warriors to Ériu to conquer them. Then the kingdom would be ours—yours and mine. And they would be our subjects.”
“They would be our subjects only out of fear!”
“It is their destiny to be ruled by a greater race.”
“Destiny? A destiny you would force on them, like I was forced into this marriage? You would impose your will upon them?”
“There is no comparison! They are weak, built for servitude. You are a powerful queen a of noble race.”
“I don’t see the difference,” Kier said quietly. A new pain was starting to build in the pit of her stomach. This was not the Lorcan she had known and loved. Had she done this to him? Had losing her driven him to this precipice? “If you reveal yourself to them and they choose to follow you, I have no argument. But I highly doubt that would happen.”
He looked at her as though she was the one who had gone mad. “Let them choose? Of course they won’t choose to follow me. Do humans ever choose what is best for them? No, they will have no choice but to submit.”
“Lorcan, you can’t do this. I beg you. Besides, what you are planning is impossible. There is no way for you to get to Ériu. The sidhe have been closed, remember?”
“Not all of them,” he said with a sly glance in her direction.
Kier felt something deep inside her break, like a crystal glass shattering on a stone floor. She felt the pressure of tears in her throat and willed them back. “Brogan would never open a sidh for you. Is that why you came here? To get information from me about the sidhe?” She gestured at the tangled sheets around her. “Is that what this was all about?”
Lorcan gave her a fierce look. “No,” he said. “I came here because I love you, and I want you by my side when I rule Ériu.” He stared at her long and hard, but she said nothing. “Kier. Don’t tell me you have fallen in love with the buffoon who abandons you for his human whore! Tell me you still love me!”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I cannot join you in this, Lorcan. I have no desire to be at war with Ériu…or to rule it. I am happy here in Tír na nÓg. And you should be, too. There is much here for you.” She reached out to touch his arm, but he jerked away.
“There is nothing for me here,” he spat. “My family name is inconsequential. I have no true abilities of my own. The woman I love is married to the High King. What future do you see for me here? I am the only one of our kind with true ambition, with the desire to see our people prosper. The rest of you are content with mediocrity.”
“What you are speaking of is madness!” Kier said. “How do you possibly think you’ll succeed?”
“My power is growing, Kier.”
With dawning horror, Kier realized what he was insinuating. “How did you get in here?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I didn’t use a sidh, if that’s what you’re asking. No, your husband is still alive and well, firmly ensconced between some other woman’s legs, no doubt. I came through the walls.”
“But you don’t have that ability.”
“I didn’t. But there was…an accident. A tragic death, and I just happened to be nearby.”
She stared at him as though she were seeing him for the first time. “‘Just happened’? You told me you would never want to take someone else’s talent, even if they were already dead. You said your ability horrified you.”
“Times change. Besides, he can’t use it now, can he? I didn’t kill him, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Kier didn’t know what to think. Accidents—especially those causing death—were incredibly uncommon in Tír na nÓg, but it had not escaped her notice that there had been more than one report of an untimely death over the past few weeks.
“So is this your plan? Absorb others’ powers and then force Brogan to open the sidhe to Ériu?”
“I’m starting to think you’re not the best confidant for my plans, darling,” he said, his voice cold. “But I can promise you this: I’m not the only one who feels this way. A war is coming, and I cannot guarantee your protection if you choose the wrong side.” He picked his shirt up off the floor and pulled it on. When he looked at her again, his eyes were tender, and he was once again the man she had loved. “Come with me, Kier. Can’t you see that I’m doing this for us—for you?”
She sat down on the bed, still wrapp
ed in the sheet. “I think you should leave,” she said.
“Think about it,” he said. “What other option do you have? Brogan does not treat you the way I would treat you. You would be a true queen with me, cherished above all others.” When she remained silent, he said, “Things are going to start changing, and soon you will see that I am right. When that time comes, send word to me.” Then he turned and walked through the solid wall of her chamber, leaving her alone.
* * *
Kier sat on the bed for a long time, replaying the events of the last couple of hours in her head. She wished he had not come; she would rather never have seen him again than to see him as he was now. She lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, letting the tears run into her hair as wave after wave of hopelessness washed over her. After a long while, she sat up and took a deep breath.
“Enough,” she said out loud. She knew what it was like to be trapped, to have others dictate the direction of her life. She would not wish that on anyone, let alone an entire race. Lorcan was serious, which mean Ériu—and her husband—were in danger. No matter what he had once meant to her, she had to stop him.
CHAPTER FIVE
It was two more days before Brogan returned. Kier tried not to notice the glow in his cheeks and the extra vigor in his step. He spent the first day after his return with his Council, and then his steward, Ruadhan, and Ruadhan’s wife, Riona, joined them for dinner. Kier was fond of Riona, and they often chatted easily while their husbands discussed Council business. During this meal, however, Kier could not feign interest in the goings-on of their friends and neighbors and Riona’s young sons Diarmuid and Fionnbharr. She kept glancing at Brogan, wondering how he would receive the news she had to give him, trying to not picture what his lover looked like.
Beyond the Pale: A Thin Veil Novella (The Thin Veil Book 3) Page 3
