Celtic Fire Part 13

He felt a pulling sensation in the vicinity of his chest, then a tingle that ran down his arm to the tips of his fingers. His life essence flowed along the path. The Horned G.o.d's blood slowed, then stopped.

The gash closed, taking the last of Owein's strength with it. His knees buckled. His grip on Madog's staff loosened. He struck the ground with a painful jolt and the vision shattered.

A long moment pa.s.sed before Owein found the strength to open his eyes. Madog's face swam above him.

"What have ye Seen, lad?"

Somehow Owein told him.

The Druid's eyes sparked with the fire Owein had come to dread. "Few See the Undying Spirits," the old man murmured. "Blessed ye be." He grasped Owein's hand and pulled him upright.

The ground lurched, then settled into place. Owein steadied himself with one hand on Madog's staff, then s.n.a.t.c.hed his arm back when he realized what he'd done. "What does it mean?" he asked.

"Kernunnos has chosen ye as his messenger. A hard path it is, but 'tis a road that leads to victory." His face drew closer, his eyes searching Owein with piercing intensity. "What would ye give to travel such a road, if it led ye to yer sister's side?"

An image of Rhiannon's face, twisted with sorrow, sprang into Owein's mind. Hate for all things Roman surged through his veins, more potent than a river of fire, more deadly than a sharpened sword.

"What would ye give, lad?"

"My life," Owein whispered. "My soul."

Violence danced on the edge of Lucius's dream. A man clashed with a stag, sword striking flank in a flash of cold steel. The beast reacted with wild fury, pitching its magnificent rack low and gouging the soldier's metal armor as if it were linen.

Aulus's entrails spilled with his blood onto the dark earth. His shrieks rang out into the night, unanswered.

Chapter Seven.

"Are you a witch?"

Lucius lifted the lamp with a shaking hand and cast a thin stream of light across Rhiannon's bed. She was asleep, a fur coverlet draped over her hips. Her face was pale against its flowing halo. Soft ripples of lamplight lapped at her b.r.e.a.s.t.s like the moon on the sea. Venus herself had never looked so beautiful.

He brought the lamp closer. She awoke with a start, jerking upright and scooting back in one motion. Her golden eyes widened as she looked at his nakedness. She opened her mouth as if to scream, then shut it again. She swallowed.

"I'm not here to ravish you." Lucius rubbed the fingers of his free hand across his eyes and stifled a laugh bordering on hysteria. Rhiannon had only to look at his shriveled rod to realize he told no lie. "But I will have the truth. Are you in service to dark powers?"

Rhiannon's fingers found the edge of the blanket and inched it higher. "Why would you think such a thing?"

Why, indeed? He'd once been a man of logic. Now, it seemed, he saw only impossibly twisted patterns where once clarity had ruled. "It's said a witch may speak with the dead."

Some emotion-guilt? fear?-flicked briefly over her face. "I've no reason to do such a thing."

"But you are able."

"No! I didn't say that."

He took a step closer. "Did you drive Aulus into my dreams this night?"

"You've seen your brother in a dream?"

Lucius did laugh then, filling the room with his black mirth. "I see my brother everywhere," he said. "But tonight, in my dream, he fought a great stag. When the beast killed him, his cries ripped into my soul."

He lunged for her, but Rhiannon moved faster, evading his grasp. The fingers of his free hand closed on air, then curled into a fist and dropped to his side. The lamplight shuddered and he realized that the hand that held the flame was shaking so badly, the blankets were in danger of being set afire.

He lowered the handlamp to the table. Bra.s.s met polished wood with a harsh clatter.

When he looked back at Rhiannon, he saw her pale face had gone even whiter. "You say you see your brother everywhere. What do you mean?"

"A witch may call spirits. Can she banish them as well?"

"I ..."

He braced his hands on the edge of the bed frame and leaned over her, close enough to smell the aroma of her fear. "What spell sends a spirit to its rest?"

Rhiannon drew in a breath and met his gaze. "You've been visited by your brother's ghost?"

He hesitated, then nodded. "Since the Kalends of November." If she thought him mad, so be it. Perhaps it was true.

But she didn't seem to doubt his words. Her gaze flicked into the shadows. "Do you see him now?"

"No," he said. "He flees your presence."

"Dear Briga," she breathed and shut her eyes.

"I ask again. Are you a witch?"

"I know only healing spells. None that would banish a ghost. My gift touches only the living."

His laughter echoed off the ceiling. "Your foul power touches my brother and he is dead enough." He reached for her again and this time managed to snare her wrist. "Send him to his rest."

"I tell you, I cannot."

His grip tightened. "You must. I order you to make it so. For six months Aulus has shadowed my existence, turning it into a waking nightmare. Now he's invaded my dreams. I can stand it no longer. I wake and stroke the edge of my sword. I imagine its kiss on my flesh."

"You must not speak so."

His fingers pressed still deeper into her white flesh, but if his touch pained her, she gave no sign of it. "The dream stag gored Aulus. I watched-watched!-unable to help him. Then the beast vanished and the scene changed. I stood in a cavern split by a dark river. Roman soldiers roamed the banks calling for the boatman, but Charon gave them no notice. Aulus was among them."

"Lucius, let go. You're hurting me."

He looked down at his hand, surprised to see Rhiannon's wrist nearly crushed in his grasp. His fingers uncurled slowly. "My apologies," he said stiffly. He moved away to the table set before the mural of Cupid and Psyche. The image of the lovers blurred as he fumbled for the handle of the wine pitcher. Red liquid sloshed over the rim of the gla.s.s goblet and spilled like blood on the silver tray.

"Your brother's ghost comes to you often?"

He drained the wine. "He's with me always," he said without turning. "Save when I'm with you. What power do you wield over him?"

She inhaled sharply. "None."

He spun about and hurled the goblet across the room.

The delicate gla.s.s exploded with brittle fury against the far wall. Rhiannon gave a cry and dove under the blanket.

He strode toward the bed. "Do not lie to me," he snarled. He s.n.a.t.c.hed up the coverlet and flung it to the ground.

She straightened and glared at him. "I speak the truth."

"I do not believe you." But when his gaze swept over her, he found he hardly cared. With her chest heaving and her red hair tumbling about her shoulders, she glowed like fire and life, a beacon of hope in the dark night that had become his existence.

He ached for her then, wanting nothing so much as to bury himself in her heat and forget the haunting specter that waited outside her door. His rod responded to the wish. Her gaze flicked downward, then back to his face, and her eyes widened.

He caught a handful of her hair in his fist. Breathing harshly, he wound the tresses slowly around his wrist, forcing her closer. "Truth or not," he said, "I can only wonder-if I take you here, make you a part of me, will Aulus vanish for good?"

Rhiannon's eyes closed and her lips parted. She made a mewling sound in her throat. A moan born of desire, or fear, or equal measures of both? The murmur shattered Lucius's thin control. He pressed her against his naked body and took her mouth, devouring its sweetness. He drew her down into the bed cushions.

She braced her hands on his chest, not protesting yet not welcoming either. Lucius gentled his a.s.sault, stroking her lips, kissing the line of her jaw.

His tongue found her ear and swirled into it. His arousal settled between her thighs. Rhiannon's hips shifted against him in a hint of welcome. He fisted her tunic in his hand and drew the hem upward, baring her legs to his touch. Her arms snaked around his neck. His fingers stroked a path up her thigh.

She stilled beneath him even as she clung to him. "No, Lucius, please, I ..."

"Hush, little one," he whispered, his fury sputtering like a dying flame. "There's nothing to fear. I would never hurt you." He hoped it was true.

His mouth covered hers, seeking silence and surrender. His tongue plunged and receded. She tasted like wind and honey. It would be no hardship to drink from her cup for a lifetime. He dipped his head to taste her again.

She bit his lip.

He jerked away and uttered an oath. Rhiannon scrambled to the far end of the bed. He stared at her as he touched his mouth. When he drew his finger away, it was streaked with blood.

"By Pollux," he said, but the wild urge to subdue her had shattered. A glimmer of respect rose in its place.

Rhiannon met his gaze. "You told me you had no need to force your attentions on a woman."

"Your response led me to believe no force would be necessary."

She blushed. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

She looked down at her clasped hands. "I ... I don't know."

"You feel it as I do, do you not? When I draw near. When I touch you."

"Yes," she whispered, still avoiding his gaze. "When you touch me. I feel ... more. Everything. Like I'm dying inside." She lifted her head and he saw anguish in her eyes. "You must believe me, Lucius. I know no spell that will ease your brother's soul."

A weight like a heavy stone settled on Lucius's shoulders. He regarded her in silence, sickened that he'd come so close to snapping the thin threads of his control. After a moment, he forced his legs to carry him to the door. Shards of gla.s.s cut into his bare soles. He welcomed the pain. It was infinitely preferable to the numbness that had taken over his heart.

He set his hand on the latch, but couldn't bring himself to lift it. Aulus waited outside.

He pressed his forehead against the polished wood. Long heartbeats pa.s.sed, pulsing against silence. When he spoke, his voice trembled.

"May I stay?"

"Stay?" Rhiannon's voice held a note of panic.

He turned, supporting his back against the door, not sure his legs would take his full weight. His fingers gripped the door latch. "Not in your bed, Rhiannon, unless you want me there. On the floor." He jerked his chin toward the door. "Aulus awaits me in the pa.s.sageway. I cannot ..." He choked, unable to finish.

Rhiannon's hand crept to her throat.

"I'm sorry," he said when she did not answer. "I forget myself." He turned, steeling himself to open the door.

"Wait."

He looked back at her.

"I'd bid you sleep on my floor, Lucius, but it seems to be covered with bits of gla.s.s." She offered him a shaky smile. "Perhaps if I go to your chamber ..."

Relief nearly drove him to his knees. "You don't fear me? Think me mad?"

"No more mad than I am."

"You cannot know that-you've not seen me speaking to the air. Sometimes Aulus seems more real than the living men before me." He loosened his grip on the door latch and laid his palm flat against the wood. "More solid than this barrier. I relinquished command of my Legion to come north, but if truth be told, I was on the verge of being dismissed. My men no longer trusted me. And though I knew it, I didn't care. I thought only of Aulus."

"You loved him."

Lucius closed his eyes against the familiar wave of guilt. "Not enough. He loved me far better."

Rhiannon held out her arms. "Come. Carry me to your chamber. I dare not step off the bed for fear of cutting my feet."

Lucius straightened away from the door and lifted her, pausing to blow out the lamp flame. He moved through the darkness swiftly, shouldering open her door and striding down the blessedly deserted pa.s.sage to his own chamber.

His door stood ajar. He pushed through it and kicked it shut behind him. Aulus's hideous Egyptian furnishings hulked in the darkness. He lowered Rhiannon onto the wide bed and covered her with one of the furs. He lingered at her side, wishing he could make out her expression in the dim light slanting through the shutters.

She caught his hand and brought it to her cheek. "This bed is large. Will you not share it with me?"

Shock flashed through him, leaving flames of violent hope in its wake. A long moment pa.s.sed before he reined in his l.u.s.t and gave Rhiannon a swift shake of his head. His control was far too close to the breaking point. Making love to her now would surely shatter it. If that happened, Lucius feared he would never regain his equilibrium.

"Lucius?"

"I would be a poor lover this night, my nymph. I'll take my rest on the bench." He bent low and brushed a chaste kiss across Rhiannon's lips. "But I'll promise you tomorrow."