She took his arm and walked beside him. He felt potent and mighty when she stood alongside him, and he knew anything was possible. «Did you see an old woman walking this way?»

«Old woman?» Geileis laughed. «Who would be out at this time of night? Surely Áine does not walk these hills at twilight.»

Rohrke masked his surprise. The thought of Áine had not come to him, but in times of old, the goddess had been known to show herself as an old woman at Lough Gur or Cnoc Áine. He hoped the crone was not the deity he would have to bed in order to become Munster’s legitimate high king.

«Teague’s men are gathering beyond the lake,» said Geileis, and Rohrke forgot about the old lady.

«How do you know?»

«Peadar saw them when he went out to hunt.»

Then war was truly imminent. His men must commence sharpening their spears and arrows right away, and he needed to order everyone to stay inside Ballygur’s walls. Áine would just have to understand the unusual circumstances this year.

He considered the terrain near the lake as they walked, and thought about battle plans. He wondered what Teague’s strategy would be. How many men on horseback would he muster? How many swords and spears? His anger grew with every step, and he hoped for nothing more than to spit Teague on his own spear. He was so preoccupied with his fury that he barely heard Geileis’ low chatter beside him.

When they reached the walls of Ballygur, it was almost full dark, and Rohrke could smell the hearth fires that burned in every house. Sedric drew him away from Geileis, and the anger that had burned inside him during the walk home seemed to recede gradually, as did his hazy thoughts.

Something was very odd, but Rohrke could not quite place what it was. He narrowed his eyes as Geileis’ henchman came, took her arm and strode away with her, glancing back at him with a vacant grin. He knew little of the woman and her servant — but when they were together, he never had the wherewithal to question her.

She was beautiful, with hair and eyes as black as the bottom of a well. Her lashes were as dark as soot, and her skin shimmered like alabaster. But she did not stir him, which was just as well, for Sláine Mac Murchada was meant to be his wife.

«My lord, we must talk,» said the Druid.

«Not now, Sedric,» Rohrke walked towards his stone fortress. «There is much to be done.»

«Aye, but we must try to understand what has happened and what Teague hopes to accomplish.»

«He wants our lands. Our cattle.»

«How do you know what he wants?» Sedric demanded, his frustration bleeding through his words. «Neither side has attempted to talk. We’ve always been on reasonably friendly terms with Teague. What’s happened to change that?»

Rohrke blew out a deep breath. He wasn’t sure. Except that his blood boiled every time he thought of Teague’s grin. He wanted to bash the man’s teeth in.

«Something evil works among us, my king,» the Druid continued. «Something dark and terrible.»

«Do not speak to me of elusive evils, Sedric,» Rohrke said.

«What we face is real. ’Tis solid and well armed. We must prepare ourselves — see to our weapons and our horses.»

«Aye.» Sedric dipped his head in a slight bow.

«I don’t know what’s happened to destroy our relations with Teague. I will wed Sláine Mac Murchada tonight, and then we’ll have the forces we need to defeat him.»

«But, my lord,» Sedric said gravely, «you must first bed the goddess.»

Rohrke clenched his teeth. There were many myths and legends surrounding the Scannláin kings, and he knew some of them to be true. But there was far too much at stake now to be thinking about goddesses and solstice celebrations.

«Then I will wait. If my bedding Áine is meant to be, then it will occur upon the morrow, when the goddess comes to Cnoc Áine to partake of our celebrations.»

He only hoped Teague would not attack before then. Rohrke kept moving towards his stone fortress as Sedric talked. «My lord, would you consider sending an emissary to Ó Fionn? There might be a way to end these hostilities peacefully.»

«Why would you think»— Rohrke stopped short at the sight of a young woman approaching from the east end of the village. She looked vaguely familiar, and yet he knew he’d never seen her before. A ripple of pure male awareness surged through him when he looked upon her, but something far deeper touched him when his gaze met hers. «Who is that?»

«I don’t know, my lord,» said Sedric. «She is not of our clan.»

«First Geileis. And now.» He was able to see her clearly in the fading light, perhaps because she was so fair, and clad in a shimmering robe of white. The gown hugged her curves and, when she pushed back her hood, he saw that her hair was as smooth and light as flax, and her eyes the green of a Druid’s flame.

A sharp pang of arousal shot through him, and when she’d finally come to stand before him, Rohrke had to restrain himself from stepping closer, from touching her, from tossing her over his shoulder and carrying her to his private chamber in the keep.

He caught her elusive scent, a fragrance that was entirely unfamiliar — perhaps ’twas even bewitching, for he’d never felt such an intense attraction for any other woman. He wanted her under him, felt desperate to be inside her.

Everything within him shuddered with need that went far beyond his body’s desires. He was not sure he understood it, and he knew he needed to maintain supreme control. Too much was going on in Ballygur — from his imminent marriage, to Teague’s threats, and Geileis’ presence — for him to lose his head in a whirlwind of lust. For that was all it could be. She was the most comely lass he’d ever encountered, and he wanted her.

But he could control himself.

«My lord.» Her voice was low and seductive. She tipped her head in respect, but not obeisance. Somehow, he’d known she would not bow to him. «I am Ana Mac Lochlainn, a traveller in need of shelter.»

Three

Ana paid extreme attention to her footing this time, for the solid, powerful presence of Rohrke Ó Scannláin had a surprisingly potent effect upon her. It was puzzling, for she knew any number of mighty Druzai sorcerers, and yet this Tuath man seemed to be the only one who possessed the power to cause her to trip over her own two feet.

She’d encountered him at Cnoc Áine, of course, while in the guise of the old woman. And even then, she’d needed to absent herself quickly, for the heat of his body and the strength of his touch had made her yearn for something other — something more? — than the Oracle’s cave and the vows she would soon take.

Perhaps it was just because she’d never been away from Coruain, her island home. Her clan of warrior-sorcerers had left Ireland many millennia ago, so Ana had never encountered a Tuath human before. She couldn’t have known they possessed a kind of energy that would skitter up her spine and make her yearn.

No. Any diversion could not be. Ana had been born to the most powerful Druzai clan, and had trained to become a formidable seer on Coruain. She’d been groomed from infancy to take her place as the next Oracle, and was deeply immersed in the process of preparing her body and mind for the grave responsibilities that faced her.

«You are a stranger to Ballygur,» Rohrke said, and his voice seemed to rumble through her. She wondered if he had Druzai blood, for there was surely some kind of magic in him.

«Aye,» she replied. «From. the north.»

He frowned, scrutinizing her carefully. «You come from King Lochlainn Mac Cailein’s realm?»

Ana nodded in spite of the lie, startled when he repeated the name Lochlainn. The Druzai high chieftains had certainly left their mark here in Ireland.

«Why have you come?»

She’d anticipated this question, but was unsure how to answer it. Clearly, she could not tell Rohrke she was a Druzai seer who’d foreseen troubles between the Irish clans with vile ollphéists in their midst. She could put a spell upon him, making him accept her as a mere traveller to Ballygur. But such tactics were unscrupulous, and Ana abhorred trickery.

However, a few small lies in the interest of preventing the carnage she’d seen would not be amiss. It was Midsummer’s Eve. Surely there were many visitors to Cnoc Áine. «I’ve come to pay respects to the sun goddess.» Her voice sounded strange to her own ears, soft and vulnerable.

«Aye, the solstice,» said the Druid, but Ana had not been able to turn her attention from King Rohrke. He maintained her gaze with dark, piercing eyes that held no trust, no belief in her sincerity. He stood close, and she could almost feel his breath upon her face. His intensity shook her.

Somehow, she managed to answer the Druid with a non-committal shrug. She did not need Rohrke’s approval or his assistance. She alone would discover how the monsters were coming to his realm and deal with them. And she would do it quickly, she hoped. She had no interest in staying away from Coruain and her training longer than absolutely necessary. «I’ve long held Áine sacred, and wanted to come to Lough Gur.»

«You’ve chosen an inopportune year for your visit,» said Rohrke, and Ana heard the tension in his voice. «There is trouble on our borders. Did you not see an army amassing beyond the lake?»

«I did not come from that direction.»

She saw no ollphéists in the village. Nor did Rohrke or the Druid seem as unnerved or as hostile as they should have been, had the little demons before influencing them. Ana did not think Rohrke’s clan could be immune. And yet she knew the demons were present somewhere nearby. There was no mistaking what she’d seen in her vision.

«We are about to go to battle, lass. Perhaps ’twould be best if you returned to. wherever it is you’ve come from.»

Before Ana could respond, Rohrke made a gruff sound and strode away towards the stone stronghold.

Ana remained standing beside the Druid, though she found herself drawn to watch the powerful man who walked away so purposefully. He was as tall as her cousins, with broad shoulders, narrow hips and the most powerful legs she’d ever seen.

But Ana was not one to ogle men, not even the handsome Druzai warriors of Coruain. She would soon make her vow of perpetual chastity, and then even the vaguest thoughts of pairing with any man would be moot.

A pesky sìthean — a small black, leathery creature that had been banished from Tuath many centuries ago — darted into Rohrke’s path. Ana nearly shot it away from him with a burst of magic, but Rohrke sidestepped it as though he’d seen it. Or at least, sensed it.

The man could not be any more puzzling to her. As harsh and unfriendly as he seemed, she could not help but remember his kindness to the old woman she’d pretended to be at Cnoc Áine. Her heart warmed with the awareness that Rohrke would not have allowed her to walk all the way to Clynabroga alone.

She forced herself to turn to the Druid. Perhaps he had the information she sought. «What is the trouble at your border?»

«A neighbouring king,» he replied. «Teague Ó Fionn has made threats of war.»

«For what reason?»

The Druid shook his head. «’Tis unknown. Our clans were friends not too long ago, but all that has changed. And if King Rohrke does not soon wed Sláine Mac Murchada, we will not have the allies we need to defeat Teague.»

’Twas just as she’d seen. The silent menace of the ollphéists was pushing the two clans towards battle, and each king would engage more and more allies until the whole of Ireland was locked in a bloody, devastating war. Men, women and children would be killed. Crops and livestock would die and finally the entire isle would be engulfed in famine.

Ana had to find out who controlled the monsters and how they were coming to Ireland from the dim netherworld where they had been banished so long ago. Someone, or something, had freed them, clearly intending to use them to maximize the carnage here.

She did not feel any hint of the malicious creatures now, nor was there any obvious portal for their entrance to the Tuath world. But Rohrke’s presence seemed to have clouded her vision. She took a deep breath and centred her concentration.

The Druid looked at her strangely, and Ana feared he sensed she was not of his world. «Please, my lady, go with him, see if you can talk to him.»

Ana complied. If there was anyone who could change the course of the impending war, it was Rohrke Ó Scannláin.