Celtic Fire Part 30

"Nay. I have renounced ye."

The back of Edmyg's hand struck Rhiannon's face. Rhiannon cried out in shame and rage. How dare he strike her? To her surprise, Brennus was the first to leap to her aid, lunging at Edmyg with a fierce snarl. The two warriors fell in the dirt, grappling.

Lucius groaned. Rhiannon dropped to her knees and stretched out her hand, her fingers hovering over his bruised cheek. His eyes opened, took in the sight of her, and closed again.

"Wh.o.r.e," he said.

Rhiannon had no answer. A fly landed on his sweat-soaked forehead. When she went to brush it away, a hand caught her wrist and hauled her to her feet.

She looked up into Owein's hard eyes. "Dinna shame yerself by touching him," he said.

"Ye don't understand."

"I understand well enough, sister. Dinna let the blood of Cartimandua show. Our people deserve better." His gaze flicked past her shoulder and turned grim. " 'Twould seem Edmyg's conceit has flung him into a boiling cauldron."

She turned. The sc.r.a.pping warriors had gained their feet and were circling each other warily, swords drawn. Brennus, Rhiannon realized with a start, wielded a weapon with a hilt and crosspiece fas.h.i.+oned in the shape of a wolf's head-Lucius's own blade.

"The woman goes with me," Brennus said.

"Nay. She is mine."

Cormac sidled up to Rhiannon. "See what comes next." His low voice barely contained his glee.

"I delivered the garrison," Brennus said. "I was promised a throne in return."

"I promised ye nothing," Edmyg replied. "Ye'll nay be taking Rhiannon save over my dead body."

"So be it." Brennus lunged and his sword clashed with Edmyg's once, twice.

Cormac chortled. "The true battle begins. The Gaul will take it."

"Edmyg is your brother," Rhiannon said, aghast. Around her, wagers flew as the men, Brigantes and Gauls alike, moved back to make room for the dueling warriors.

"Aye, but my bet is on Brennus, his mail s.h.i.+rt, and his Roman sword. Edmyg has naught but pride. I've said oft enough 'twould be his downfall. I'm counting on it now."

" 'Twas you who promised Brennus the throne!"

"Aye, and the queen as well. 'Twas the bait the wolf couldna refuse. I am no fool, Rhiannon, and 'tis a wise man who seeks the st.u.r.diest shelter in which to pa.s.s the storm."

"A storm of your own making," Rhiannon countered. "How could ye betray your own brother?"

"I was the elder brother. By rights, ye should have been mine first, along with the throne. And ye would have been if not for my stunted limbs." He paused, watching as Edmyg parried an attack from Brennus. " 'Tis a natural alliance between the Gauls and our people. We are one blood, and the Brigantes have fought alone for years with little to show for it. This fort is a boon without price and the garrison soldiers nearly double our strength. With their aid, we can hold our land."

"A fool ye be if ye think that, Cormac. The Romans will never retreat. Ye'll be fighting all your life."

"I'll gladly do that, la.s.s, rather than bow to the likes of him." He spat at Lucius.

Owein tugged at her arm. "Rhiannon, get back. I'll nay have your blood spilled." He urged her out of the path of the combatants. She let him pull her to safety, watching in horror as Edmyg and Brennus fought for the right to her body and through it the throne. The warriors circled the post where Lucius hung. Dear Briga! If a sword went astray, Lucius could do naught but watch it come.

Brennus attacked with a wide slice inward. Edmyg caught the blade with the edge of his sword and threw it over. The opponents clashed with violent fury, grunting curses, blades clanging. Brennus gave a thrust, missing Edmyg by a mere breath. Edmyg lost his balance and fell on Lucius's outstretched leg. Rhiannon lurched forward, but Owein held her fast. Lucius's face turned gray behind his bruises as his jaw clenched against a cry.

Edmyg scrambled to his feet, narrowly avoiding a killing blow. Brennus's blade thudded into the earth near Lucius's hip. Rhiannon slumped against Owein, shaken.

The deadly battle continued. Edmyg managed to nick the Gaul's arm with a swipe that seemed more luck than skill. Brennus swore an oath and doubled his efforts, slas.h.i.+ng with deadly urgency, forcing Edmyg back. When Edmyg lifted his arm to make his next thrust, his enemy's blade plunged into his gut.

Rhiannon cried out. Edmyg looked down at the hilt protruding from his stomach with an expression of disbelief. Brennus twisted his sword once and withdrew. A shout rose from the crowd. Edmyg staggered and fell, his hands clutching the wound until his strength deserted him. A tremor shook his body and then he lay still, staring at the sky.

" 'Tis done, then." Cormac sounded suddenly weary. Brennus thrust his b.l.o.o.d.y sword into its sheath. When his head rose, his gaze fixed on Rhiannon.

"Nay," she whispered.

"Who will challenge my right to be called king?" Brennus shouted.

Bryan stepped forward from a knot of Edmyg's best warriors and for one wild moment, Rhiannon thought her cousin would challenge Brennus. Her hope was dashed when the warrior placed his fist over his heart.

"I promise you my allegiance, king."

One by one the other clan chieftains came forward and pledged their fealty. Rhiannon gripped Owein's arm. "I canna go with him."

"Ye must. The hand of Kernunnos directed this contest. Refuse the G.o.d's will, and we will all fall." He gave a grim smile. "The Gaul canna be worse than Edmyg."

"I would rather die than bed him."

Owein opened his mouth to answer, then fell silent upon Brennus's approach.

The Gaul dropped on one knee before Rhiannon. "My queen. I offer you the protection of my body and my sword." He bowed his head, but the steely glint in his eye told Rhiannon his words were spoken solely to appease her kinsmen.

She looked away. It was a mistake, for she found Lucius's dark eyes upon her, filled with loathing. She held his gaze until tears blurred his image.

Brennus rose and caught her upper arm. "Come." He guided her toward the portal leading to the street. His grip was like iron, but even if she could wrench out of his grasp, where would she run? Her kinsmen had accepted this man as their king. Her only hope to avoid her fate was to contrive Lucius's escape and flee south with him.

She bit back a hysterical laugh. Even if she somehow managed to free Lucius, she could hardly expect he would risk his life to save hers. Not after she'd kept the truth of his brother's fate from him. Most likely he would tie her to a tree and leave her for the carrion eaters.

Brennus propelled her through the door of the fort commander's residence and into a small room off the foyer. How could she delay his advances? When the door thudded shut, she stiffened her spine and summoned her most regal tone.

"Unhand me."

To her surprise, Brennus complied.

"I'm in sore need of rest," she said, picking her words carefully. "You may leave me."

Brennus's mouth curved. "I've no complaint if ye take to your bed. But if ye think to delay my presence there, you're wasting precious time. I'm most eager to be wiping the memory of Aquila's c.o.c.k from your body."

Chapter Twenty-Two.

"Did ... did he hurt you?"

The painful throb in Owein's head quickened as he waited for Rhiannon's reply. He'd gained entrance to the chamber scant moments after Brennus's departure by threatening the Gaulish guard with a Druid curse. The man had not been able to unbolt the door fast enough.

"Nay," Rhiannon said at last. "He was called away as soon as he brought me here." She paced the room. It was crowded with dark shadows, the only illumination a shaft of dim light from the single high window. "When he returns, I'll tell him the moon flux is upon me."

"That lie willna work for long."

"I know it, brother."

He took a step toward her, then halted. "Can ye not at least give Brennus a chance? The clans need his men."

She gave a bitter laugh. "I'm ever the wh.o.r.e chasing power. Truly, Owein, I grow weary of it."

He went to her then, and put his arms around her. "Ye are no wh.o.r.e. Ye are a treasure beyond price. A queen."

"A queen, locked away? I would sooner be a hag, and free of this place."

"Our people need ye."

She threw off his embrace. "Need me? For what? The men follow their war leaders. Madog prays only to Kernunnos-he's forsaken Briga. Without the G.o.ddess to balance the G.o.d, our people will stumble and fall." She turned to him with pleading eyes. "Ye must not kill him, Owein."

Pain pounded his temple. "The Roman." The word left a foul taste in his mouth, as if he'd chewed on dung.

"Ye've taken the fort. Let him go."

"How can ye plead for your defiler, Rhiannon?"

"Lucius is no defiler."

"I saw ye crying after he took ye."

" 'Twas not joining with Lucius that made me cry. I went to his bed willingly. I love him."

His gut heaved. "I canna believe that! He took ye captive. He used ye."

"He treated me like a queen. I know ye dinna understand. How can ye when I canna understand it myself?" Her voice broke. "I canna bear Lucius's death, Owein. Free him for my sake. Let him go south to his own people. The clan has no need of his life. Not truly."

Owein gritted his teeth. " 'Tis not possible."

"That is a lie."

A spike of agony pierced his skull and the vision burst on him, so vivid he could have reached out and touched it. The ancient stones. Blood. His hand on the Druid sword.

His fingers tore at his scalp, nails rending the flesh. When the visions came upon him, he wanted nothing so much as to rip them from his mind.

He gasped for breath until the scene faded. When it did, he felt Rhiannon's hands cradling his face.

"Owein? Has it pa.s.sed?"

He steadied himself with one hand on her shoulder while he blinked to clear his tears. "You bid me free the Roman. Even were I to attempt it, I wouldn't succeed. I See See him, Rhiannon. His blood is on the stones. My hand is on the killing sword. 'Twill happen. Kernunnos has willed it." him, Rhiannon. His blood is on the stones. My hand is on the killing sword. 'Twill happen. Kernunnos has willed it."

Her hands dropped from his face. "When will ye take him to Madog?"

"In the hour before dawn," he replied.

"Father? Are you alive?"

The flood of relief that Marcus's trembling whisper brought to Lucius was so keen he was unable to answer for several seconds. His son had not been taken by the enemy. Thank the G.o.ds.

Marcus stifled a sob and crept closer. His shaking hand touched Lucius's chest. "Please be alive."

"Marcus." Lucius slitted his eyes and scanned the headquarters yard as best he could from his awkward position. The crowd had cleared at dusk. The dwarf who had posed as a slave in Lucius's house had taken the body of the Celt who had fought Brennus. The dwarf had departed, but not before he'd set a pair of Gauls as guard. Luckily the brutes had been far more interested in drinking themselves into oblivion than tending their charge. They lay snoring in the dirt.

"Where is Demetrius?" Lucius asked.

"Dead."

He fought a surge of grief. "Are you sure?"

Marcus didn't answer. Instead he produced a dagger and sawed at the rope binding Lucius's left leg. His hand was remarkably steady.

"Where did you get the blade?"

"Stole it from a drunk."

Lucius's admiration of his son rose several notches. The boy was more levelheaded than he'd given him credit for. "How did Demetrius die?" he asked softly.

Marcus's hand stilled, then began sawing again with renewed energy. "The soldiers broke down the door. Candidus and some of the other slaves fought them and were killed. The rest of the Celts joined the traitors." The boy's tone was cool, as if he recited a lesson.

Lucius kept silent. He sensed his son was close to breaking. Any sympathy he showed would nudge him over the edge.

Marcus moved to Lucius's right ankle. "Magister Demetrius and I were above stairs when the traitors entered the courtyard. He bade me get up on the roof. He met the soldiers as they gained the upper pa.s.sage. They ran him through but never saw me."

Lucius flexed his legs, testing them with his full weight as Marcus stretched to cut the bonds holding his hands. Tears stung his eyes at the thought of his old teacher and friend protecting Marcus with his life. "How did you get into the headquarters?"

"I climbed back onto the roof. I saw the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds bring you from the western gate tower. I climbed to the roof of the bathing room and jumped across the alley to the headquarters roof. I had to wait for the yard to clear before I could free you. I was so afraid that ..." He swallowed and cut through the last of the rope. "The guards only just fell asleep," he said as if antic.i.p.ating a reprimand.

Lucius rubbed the feeling back into his arms. "You're a brave one, Marcus. I'm proud to call you my son." He took the stolen dagger and crept toward the sleeping traitors who had been his guards. With ruthless efficiency, he slit the throats of the two men. He relieved the first of his war belt, sword, mail s.h.i.+rt, and helmet.

He strung the dead soldier up on the post as best he could with the cut ropes. With luck, he and Marcus would be long gone before the deception was noted. He stripped the second man's gear for Marcus, rejecting the sword as too heavy. The boy was tall for his age. With Fortuna's favor, he would pa.s.s without question.

He donned the first guard's mail and tested his sword. It was not as finely wrought as Lucius's own, but it would do. "Stay close," he told Marcus. "But don't crouch. Try to walk with a swagger."