Defiance (The Priestess Trilogy) by Melissa Sasina

brief flashes of light. From what she could see, his hair had been washed with lime, stark and white, and his skin was swarthy. He was followed closely by some other men with similar features . She had not had too much experience with those like him, but enough to know that he was of the Milidh clan; the men who had arrived to the shores of Éire’s ten years ago seeking vengeance for Ith’s death.
    “What wonderful prey we have found!” he declared with a malicious laugh . “It is pointless to try and escape…little wen ch.” The man strode towards her, like a creature stalking it s prey.
    Shiovra watched him carefully as she rose slowl y to her feet , her mind racing for possible means of escape. She could see five of them altogether. She was at a disadvantage, not just by the number of them, but also for her folly of forgetting to bring a weapon of sorts with herself. She thought that, perhaps, if she was quick enough, she could duck around the tree and lose them in the turbulence of the storm.
    Before she could act, she was seized from behind as someone wrapped their arm tightly around her waist and a dagger glanced acr oss her cheek, cutting it enough to bleed slightly.
    “Well, well, well. What have we here?” a harsh male voice breathed in her ear.
    Shiovra struggled with him, but the man’s grip upon her was firm. The energies swirling through the air continued to warn and shout at her, but the man’s grip upon her was preventing her from focusing enough to harness them . No matter how much she fought against the man’s hold, she could not free herself.
    “Árdal! Look at what I have caught!”
    The man, who had spo ken first, stepped up. “Well done . You have caught the little wench.” He frowned and looked at Shiovra more closely, an action which sent a chill through the priestess’ body. “Hmmm…” The menacing grin returned and he laughed. “Too clean to been a simple common wench. More likely a chieftain’s child. Lovely little thing she is!” growled the ruffian. “She will make good ransom after I get what I need from her! Sh eath your dagger, fool, before y o u damage the wench further than you already have!”
    Shiovra glared at the man, but held her tongue. When she could no longer feel the dagger against her skin, she tried more vigorously to free herself of her captors grip.
    Árdal smirked. “Oh, you do not approve? ” he scoffed, leaning closer towards her . “What a wild one we have on our hands! And see those pretty marking s that she bears upon her skin? It seems to me that w e have a High Priestess in our grasp,” laughed the Milidh man. “I should just keep you for myself. ” His voice dropped low, tone cold, “ The Túath clan have no place here anymore.”
    “We have no place?” began Shiovra , keeping her voice calm and even. “It would seem to me that you have no place. We, the Túath, brought to this land great wisdom and knowledge . Your foul clan is destructive in your ways with not a care for anything else but your desires and vengeance. You, whose lust for power and control lead you t o destroy all that which does not submit.” She narrowed her gaze on the man . “ You do not belong here. ”
    “And yet you shall submit, wench,” spat Árdal. “Just like the Parthalon su ccumbed to an illness that then spread to the Neimidh. Or the Fomorii who fell to you as just as the y had the Fir Bolg…the Túatha Dé Danann will succumb to us!” His voice became deeper, husky as he looked her over and the wet clothing clinging to her body. “ Your people killed Ith when he praised this lands beauty. Now… you can submit to me or suffer his fate .”
    “You have a distorted mind …” Shiovra muttered. “May you leave without returning . ”
    Árdal laughed. “That was not very kind of you to say, wench…” he breathed harshly, then a cruel smile spread across his lips. “We were destined to take this land from you the moment Ith’s blood soaked the