Luath walked forward and took both of her hands. “A man has brought it back to us.”
“A man? How could this be?”
Luath nodded toward the forest’s edge. “This man.”
Rioghan and Donaill turned—and there, just within the cover of the trees, was a man standing beside a horse. When he saw that they were staring at him, he led the animal forward and came out into the open light of the clearing.
“Airt,” Rioghan said softly.
He walked toward them, stopping only a short distance away. “I had hoped you would be here on this day,” he said. “I knew you would return soon, and I hoped to see you again before I left.”
“You have done this?” Rioghan asked, glancing around at the bright, shimmering clearing.
He smiled. “I have. I knew where Beolagh hid it, and it was little trouble to bring it back to its rightful owners. It was the least I could do to try to make things right again.”
Rioghan nodded, watching his face. He was somber, but there was a peaceful feeling about him as well, as though he had come to a decision and was determined to carry it through. “You said you are leaving?”
“I am. I am on my way to Dun Orga, there to win back Sabha no matter what it takes.”
Now it was Rioghan’s turn to smile. “That will be a difficult task,” she said. “But it is a worthy goal.”
He nodded, his face serious and still. “I understand that now. I was a fool to try to collect women the way some men try to collect pieces of gold. I should have considered myself lucky to have one woman who truly loved me, instead of taking pleasure in having two forced to live in jealousy and tension and pain while they competed for my attentions. That is the dark side of love. I would much rather have the light once again.”
She reached out and gave him a gentle embrace. “Go with the light, then, Airt,” she said. “And tell Sabha for me that she might do well to consider you once again.”
“I thank you, Lady Rioghan. I hope that Sabha and I will see you again one day.”
She stepped back, and in the gleaming silence of the clearing Airt mounted his horse and rode away into the forest.
There was a soft footstep behind her. Rioghan turned to see Luath standing there, looking all around him at the shining, glittering trees. “Do you approve of this ritual, Lady Rioghan?”
“Ritual, Luath? Tell me about it. I have not seen such a thing before—but neither have I seen anything so beautiful, so magical.”
The Sidhe started to walk slowly across the clearing, and Rioghan walked with him. “When this man, Airt, returned our treasures to us, we found they had all been badly used. These beautiful things had been stolen, hidden, and used in trade to get that which should be freely given. And so we have hung them outside, in the pure light of the newly returning sun, to celebrate both its return and the return of our treasure…and to allow the gold and bronze and copper and crystal to regain their purity once more, to become as they were when the Ancient Ones made them so very long ago.”
“It is wonderful, Luath. A marvel. Perhaps this ritual should be done each year, both to celebrate the return of the sun and to simply enjoy such beauty.”
Luath smiled down at her. “We will consider it, Lady Rioghan.”
She glanced back at Donaill, and her eyes widened. “Oh! I nearly forgot why we came! Luath, please gather your people around—we have brought things for them all.”
The Sidhe all glanced at one another, but then came to stand near the pack pony. Donaill slid down from Cath and began unpacking the big cloth sacks, and in a moment both he and Rioghan were handing out skins of good blackberry wine, bags of dried wheat, thick folds of bright woolen cloth, and lighter stacks of the finest linen weave.
“We cannot thank you enough, Lady Rioghan and Lord Donaill,” said Luath. “These midwinter gifts will help us get through the remainder of the darkest, coldest season. You have been most generous to us all.”
“Far less than you have done for me, all these years,” Rioghan answered. “Yet I hope that I might ask a favor of you now.”
“Of course, lady.”
“Ask whatever you wish.”
“There is nothing we would not do for you.”
Rioghan folded her hands and looked around at the many faces gazing back at her from the bright clearing. “Sion has been my home, and that of my family, for more years than I know. Now I have gone to live with my beloved husband at Cahir Cullen, there to make a new life with him and, I hope, to serve the people there as I have always served you.
“But you must know that we will never forget you, never abandon you. We have brought you these gifts this day to show you that this is true, and we shall continue to do so on this day for every year that is to come. That is how important to us you are.
“In return, we hope that you will continue to live here at Sion, for it is safe for you now, remaining the guardians of this place and of the stone circle— and call upon us whenever you might have need of us. Would this also be your wish?”
The Sidhe all turned to each other, and then turned back to Rioghan and Donaill.
“This is our home, and yours, now and always.”
“We will forever be the guardians here.”
“Both of you, too, may call upon us, if ever you have need of us.”
Rioghan smiled at them, and stood close to Donaill, taking his arm. “Then I will go in peace to my new home, knowing that my husband and I will always have one here.”
He bent to kiss her as the Sidhe looked on, and when Rioghan opened her eyes she heard the lively sound of a harp and a drum and saw laughing, dancing Sidhe whirling and leaping all through the sparkling clearing.
“Lady Rioghan! Lord Donaill!” they cried. “May this day be a merry one for you both, now and always!”
“And for you as well.” Rioghan laughed, and reached up to kiss Donaill once again in the bright, dancing light of the winter morning.
About the Author
Growing up in the military, I’ve lived in many places – California, Germany, Washington D.C., Texas, Ohio and now Arizona. And like many writers, I’ve held a number of different jobs—everything from computer programmer to horseback riding instructor to medical transcriptionist.
My writing career began in 1984 when I sold the first of over 100 non-fiction articles written for the national and regional horse magazines. My first novel was Lady of Fire, a time-travel romance.
Since that first book, I went on to write a total of nine Celtic fantasy romances. I am always more than happy to help new writers or present a writers’ workshop at any convention.
Look for these titles by Janeen O’Kerry
Now Available:
Lady of Fire
Maiden of the Winds
Goddess of Eire
Daughter of Gold
Coming Soon:
Queen of the Sun
Spirit of the Mist
Sister of the Moon
Mistress of the Waters
The key to winning her hand is simple—he just needs to figure out what women want.
Daughter of Gold
© 2013 Janeen O’Kerry
Niamh travels to the late summer festival known as the Lughnasa Fair, a great gathering of the kingdoms. There she meets Bryan, a member of the Fianna, a group of the king’s finest fighting men. He wishes her to be his “Lughnasa Sister”—his mate for the fourteen days of the Fair—but Niamh wants an offer of marriage. And the offer must come from a man who can answer her riddle: What three things does a woman want most from a man?
Yet Bryan has little time to think on Niamh’s riddle, for the Fair is plagued by a supernatural creature: the puca—a malevolent, destructive spirit in the shape of a black horse with fiery red eyes. Putting aside other matters, Bryan and Niamh must work to solve the mystery of the puca and save the people of the Fair—and their future—together.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Daughter of Gold:
Back down the road,
the horses Bryan held threw their heads up and looked into the darkness in the direction Leary had gone. And then Bryan heard the sound of fast galloping hoofbeats and his brother’s terrified shouting.
“Stop! Stop! Let me go—let me off! Stop!”
And down the road, all but invisible in the cloud-covered night, charged a powerful black pony with Leary clinging to its back. Yet Bryan could see in an instant that this was no natural animal. It wore an old rope halter with a trailing lead, but its eyes blazed a furious orange. By their light Bryan could see the creature’s bared teeth and flattened ears.
“Leary! What are you doing? Get off of that beast. Get away from it!”
“I can’t!”
And to Bryan’s horror, the malevolent black pony slid to a stop right in front of him and the two horses he held.
Bryan held tight to the reins, certain the horses would be terrified of such a monstrous beast. His own heart beat wildly and he wanted nothing more than to turn and run away, where he might at least have a chance to draw his sword.
But to his amazement, the two horses he held did not move at all. And the black pony ignored him entirely. Instead, it reached out its heavy head to touch noses with Anfa, who calmly returned the gesture. All the while Leary clung desperately to its mane, his face white with terror.
“Leary, get down. Get down!” Bryan whispered.
“I can’t.” Leary’s voice shook with fear. “I cannot move!” And Bryan could see that his brother’s fingers were locked to the creature’s neck, entangled in its wild thick mane, and that his trembling legs were clamped tight to the shaggy sides as though lashed there with rope.
Then Leary cried out as the beast whirled around and bolted down the road again, snapping its terrified rider’s head back and leaving Bryan and the horses standing alone in the grass. Anfa nickered softly, and both he and Luath peered into the darkness where the strange creature had disappeared.
Bryan dropped Anfa’s reins and in one swift move vaulted onto Luath’s back. “Leary!” he shouted, and sent the stallion racing down the road. “Leary! I’m coming! Keep trying to get away from it!”
Far ahead of him in the darkness, Bryan could see the glowing yellow eyes of the beast as it continued to gallop and could hear the pounding of its heavy hooves on the road. He urged Luath on faster, determined to catch up, but it seemed the creature would allow him to close in and then draw away whenever it pleased. It raced at speeds no natural horse could ever have attained.
Bryan could do nothing but grit his teeth and keep following, urging Luath on and straining to keep those hideous yellow eyes in sight. Leary had been right when he’d said that Bryan could never turn down a challenge—he hated to lose at anything, and was even more determined to win this particular race as his brother’s terrified cries floated back to him on the night wind.
Suddenly the animal swung off the road and headed straight for the river. The water was dark and glistening by the faint light of the cloud-veiled stars. Bryan heard Leary cry out again as his wild mount took him for a gallop right along the riverbank, right down the treacherous path where the water met the earth and where high grass hid the holes and mud and rocks that might well cripple any racing horse and send its rider flying headlong into the shallow, rock-strewn riverbed.
Leary’s terrified screams filled the night.
At last the treacherous pony swerved away from the riverbank and raced down the road again with Bryan and Luath still giving chase. It tore down the path for a time—for what seemed to Bryan to be forever—until it turned toward the river again, dashed between the trees separating the water from the road, and ran straight toward a campsite—a campsite where a small fire burned and where a family and their wagons and cattle had settled for the night.
As it galloped in a wide circle around the small encampment, the black pony threw up its head and neighed—though it sounded like deep raucous laughter instead of the natural call of a horse. Leary added his own terrified cries to the awful sound.
The little group of people around the fire instantly leaped to their feet and stood huddled together near the flames. A glance showed Bryan that they were an older man, an older woman, a couple of younger men and a younger girl—and then, there, walking out toward the monstrous black pony that had invaded their camp, was a tall young woman with flowing hair and a simple gown and the glint of a bright gold comb just above her forehead.
The beast went on tearing around the clearing in a wide circle, the light from its yellow eyes blending with the glare of the fire. Bryan pulled Luath to a stop near the big wooden wagon. “Stay away from it!” he cried to the young woman. “It is no natural horse! It is a monster! Stay away!”
But she continued to walk, looking the beast straight in its terrible yellow eyes and moving as though she intended to step directly into its path.
Amongst the fires of war, Anjele discovers that love is truly blind.
Heaven in a Wildflower
© 2013 Patricia Hagan
Brett Cody was Anjele Sinclair’s first love. Under the hot Louisiana sun, they discovered each other, body and soul. Torn from his arms and sent to a boarding school in England, it is four long years before she returns to her beloved home. But when she discovers that Brett is fighting for the hated Yankees, Anjele believes their love can never be.
Then the unthinkable happens. Her father is murdered, and an injury from his attackers leaves Anjele blind. Struggling to save her beloved home and heritage, Anjele relies on the help and support of a stranger—a man she grows to love. But when she discovers that man is none other than Brett, Anjele must decide if she can accept the love of an enemy.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Heaven in a Wildflower:
New Orleans, Louisiana
Summer, 1858
A warm breeze wafted through the open French doors leading to the porch. Wearing a thin chemise and pantalets, Anjele stood just inside her room. She was supposed to be taking a nap, or at least lying down, because it was the season of the ague, or yellow fever. People believed resting in the hottest part of the day helped prevent the disease, but going to bed was the last thing she felt like doing in such miserable heat.
The shade of the spreading oaks, dripping with shadowy moss, looked cool and inviting along the avenue leading to the sleepy river beyond. She longed for a swim, but not in the thick, brown waters of the serpentine Mississippi. It was her secret place she yearned for, the hidden freshwater pool she and Simona and Emalee had discovered a few years ago. Hidden in the fringes of Bayou Perot, it was fed by an underground spring that kept the water from becoming stagnant. Best of all, they had never seen a snake or an alligator there.
Sadly, as she stood there enjoying the view, she was struck once more with awareness of how time was running out to enjoy the things she loved on the plantation. Since her sixteenth birthday the month before, when the formal announcement of her engagement to Raymond Duval was made, a feeling of desperation had descended. All her life, she’d been well aware of the pact between their parents, but it wasn’t till it became official and a wedding date set for Christmas that the actuality had soaked in. Now, thinking about moving into New Orleans, leaving this beloved place to return only for visits, made her stomach knot with dread.
She had grown up loving to spend as much time as possible traipsing after her father, whom she adored. He had taught her to ride a horse and shoot a gun as well as any man—unknown to her mother, of course, who didn’t approve of her learning masculine skills. So it had become a cherished secret between her father and her, only now she had to fit in those times around her music.
Ida Duval, Raymond’s mother, insisted Anjele start learning to play the piano, something Anjele had resisted in the past. Miss Ida felt it was a nice touch for a hostess to be able to entertain her guests after dinner and, since Anjele’s mother was much too busy to give Anjele lessons, Mrs. Melora Rabine was sent twice a week to teach.
Anjele smiled to think how surprised
everyone was to discover she had a natural talent. In no time at all, she was able to play anything by ear, after hearing the melody only once or twice. But Claudia, her adopted sister, had been studying for years and accused her of having been practicing secretly, declaring it was not possible to master the piano so fast. Anjele neither denied nor confirmed.
Long ago, she’d learned there was no getting along with Claudia.
Ida also sent someone to instruct in needlework, and Twyla turned a deaf ear to Anjele’s protests. Anjele suspected the real reason her mother was going along with everything Ida wanted was to keep her busy so she wouldn’t have time to slip away and be with Simona and Emalee. Acadian girls. Her mother didn’t approve of them but wasn’t as vocal as Claudia, who warned that Ida Duval would have a fit if she knew Anjele socialized with the lower classes.
Anjele was well aware that lots of other people looked down their noses at the Acadians due to the mixed heritage of some, but it didn’t matter one bit to her. She felt sorry for the way their ancestors, French Canadians, had been driven from their colony of Acadia by the British, forcing them to find new homes in unfamiliar territories. Many, like the families of Emalee and Simona, had chosen to settle in the fertile bayou lands of southern Louisiana. They lived in small, compact, self-contained communities deep in the swamps. When they sought work, it was in the cane or cotton fields. But, unlike the Negro slaves, the Cajuns were paid wages and free to leave at quitting time to return to their bayou homes.
Anjele envied them their happy, carefree lives as she listened to Emalee and Simona and the other girls describe the merriment that went on in their compounds as they cooked their supper. Cauldrons of turtle soup or crawfish gumbo bubbled deliciously while fiddlers played rousing Cajun tunes in an effort to ease their weary spirits after a hard day. They would sing, and sometimes, on the banks of the shadow-silent waters of the mysterious bayou, and even though she wasn’t allowed, Anjele longed to be a part of it all.
Keeper Of The Light Page 23
