Talorgan knew what she saw—had seen it himself that morning as he’d cleansed himself in a pool of water, preparing for this very ceremony. The red blood he’d painted on his face with the aid of the mirrored lake covered every inch of his skin, in celebration of her impending death.
Talorgan stood in silent vigil as she weakly struggled, right until she drew her last, ragged breath. Without pausing, he ripped the dagger from her chest before unhurriedly moving aside and wiping the blade clean on the back of her white dress. As the blade was released, her life’s blood gushed forward in a torrent, trailing in streaming rivulets down her newly budded breasts, over her stomach, and down her slender legs to splatter against the bare, warm earth below.
When the flow finally stopped and began to seep into the very earth itself, Talorgan crouched down to his haunches and studied the pattern of her blood. After long moments, he finally raised his head, a garish smile slashing his face. For now he had a path to follow.
21
Cailleach
3rd Century BC, Ancient Scotland
Cailleach tested the stew in the bubbling pot over the fire, considering the flavors that erupted over her palate. It was perfect, but it would be ruined if Tritus did not return home soon.
Her belly suddenly distended, and Cailleach grimaced, rubbing the area. She could feel the child’s impatience. “Soon, little one. You’ll meet us soon.”
“Cailleach!”
And there he was, her lover, striding just ahead of the tree line. A huge smile was spread across his face in greeting. She spied the deer slung over his shoulders, but what grabbed her attention was the bulging skin at his waist. It was an indication that he’d had another successful trade at his village.
Tritus quickly loped toward her, dropping the deer unceremoniously on the cool autumn ground. As his muscular arms engulfed her in a hug, Cailleach breathed in his familiar scent. He was home!
Disquieted at the strength of her feelings for this man, she forced herself to pull away, scrunching her nose at the whiff of his body odor. “I’m glad to see you, Tritus, but you need a bath! Quickly, go now, before supper is ruined.”
He huffed softly, but instead of doing her bidding, he pulled her back into his arms and lifted her chin up for a kiss. As they broke apart, Tritus whispered, “As my lady wishes,” before brushing his knuckles down the side of her face in parting.
Cailleach’s gaze lingered on his strong form as he strode toward the cave opening. The tightness in her chest had eased when he wrapped his arms around her. She’d missed him over the past two days he’d been gone. She snorted. How ridiculous—I’ve become a lovesick fool!
When Tritus entered the cave, she turned away and continued her vigil over the stew.
Dusk had fallen, and the last rays of the afternoon sun were slowly crawling behind the proud peak of Ben Macdui when Tritus returned in a new tunic and pants, his dark hair curling against his neck. His arm slid around her waist as he sat down on the log beside her in front of the campfire. The heat from the flames didn’t do much to ward off the autumn chill, but she was loathed to return to eating in the cave until winter was upon them.
“That smells delicious, Cal,” Tritus appreciatively murmured as he accepted the bowl she held out to him. “How did you find the last few days?”
“Long.” Her breath hitched as she added, “I missed you.”
Cailleach always hated it when they were apart. If they hadn’t shared an internal bond, she would never have let him trade in the village. But she’d been more anxious than usual during his recent expeditions. Cailleach couldn’t explain why, but it felt like something was coming—and more than just the impending birth of their child. She could feel the omen whispering on the air currents around her, taunting her.
Tritus missed nothing as his eyes caressed her face. “I missed you too, Cal. Now I’m back, and you have nothing to fear.”
Cailleach felt her eyes mist, and she turned away lest he catch wind of her response. It was ridiculous how emotional she had become since being with child. “Did you trade all your wares?” she forced out in a normal tone as she busied herself by filling her own bowl with stew.
He nodded. “The ladies loved the amulets. In return, they gave me some seeds to plant after the snow melts—apple trees and those herbs you go on about.”
At his wicked grin, Cailleach couldn’t help but punch him lightly in the arm. “You mean those herbs that flavor that stew you’re enjoying?”
Ducking his head, he gave her a hard kiss. “Exactly!” His eyes dropped down to her distended belly. “And how has the little one been? Is she well?”
“Why do you persist in calling our bairn a girl?’ she huffed. “It could be a boy.”
“Then I will love him unconditionally and be proud to call him my son,” Tritus returned swiftly. “But I am sure the gods have a little Cailleach in store for me.” He put his finished bowl on the ground and drew her into his arms, holding her close. “Regardless, whatever our babe is, I know it will be incredibly lucky to have us.”
Cailleach relaxed into his embrace, feeling the tension she’d carried since his departure leave her body. She’d been on-edge and irritable a lot recently, and as always, Tritus had read her like an open book. He knew just what she needed—light banter and his loving touch. It was no secret that she was nervous about the upcoming birth. This was her first child; the thought of childbirth scared her. And from what she’d heard, making plans were a waste of time—the babe would come when it was ready, not on her terms.
But one thing was certain: the child had to come before winter solstice. Winter’s mantle waited on no one, and she needed to pay her due before suspicions arose. She knew she could delay the call of winter for a few days, but not the full cycle of a lunar moon, and she hoped with everything she had that the child would come early.
Twisting in his arms, Cailleach turned to Tritus, drawing his face between her hands, forever grateful she had been lucky enough to have this man share her journey in this life. “I love you.”
The words did not convey the strength of her feelings for him, but she knew he felt her emotions along their internal bond. In response, the harsh angles of his face softened as he bent his head toward her. Cailleach met him halfway, offering her lips for his kiss.
“How touching,” drawled a cool voice.
They both snapped back, turning to stare into the darkness beyond the flames.
The owner of that voice moved into the flickering glow of their campfire. The fire razed suddenly, and the orange flames cast the face under the hood into relief. Cailleach saw the large blue whorls tattooed onto the man’s cheekbones and noticed the defect in the left eye, its iris not matching the blue of the right, but fractured into a starburst of red, yellow, and turquoise.
She felt Tritus’s body tense into a hard line of muscle as he came to the same recognition and hid a wince as his hands dug into her arm in a painful bite.
“Talorgan.” Tritus’s voice was quiet, ringed with steel. “What are you doing here?”
Without breaking eye contact with Talorgan, Tritus took Cailleach’s hand and stood, pulling her up beside him. She could almost taste his screaming tension. This Druid he did not trust—and neither did she.
For the last two years, Tritus had managed to avoid Talorgan, carefully planning his trading visits for the spring when the Druid was serving his sentence, and leaving immediately after the new moon to return just before the next one. Even though they’d escaped contact with each other up to this point, Cailleach had known a confrontation could not be avoided forever. That one day, following the punishment that Tritus had delivered that fateful afternoon, they would meet again. Now, as Cailleach glanced between them, she knew that moment had come.