Free Pagan Fire by Teri Barnett Page A

saw a strong hand reach into her and pull out the iron. The fingers molded the metal, turning it over and over in its palm. When it finally glowed fiery red, the hand pushed it back inside her. Her stomach burned just thinking about it. She pushed the picture away.
    “You speak of strange things, girl. I am compelled to be tell you, I fear for your immortal soul.”
    Maere bowed her head, silent.
    “Do you have anything else to say before I give you your penance?”
    Maere dug her fists into her eyes, took a deep breath, then let her hands drop to her side. She’d come this far already, she might as well tell everything. “I dreamed he was here again last night,” she said, her voice catching as she spoke. “I dreamed he, he—” She couldn’t go on.
    “He what?”
    She raised her eyes heavenward and blinked back the tears. “He bedded me.”
    “I see,” Father John said. “And tell me this, did you enjoy the act?”
    “Enjoy it?” Maere repeated, embarrassment giving way to incredulity. “What does this have to do with anything?”
    “Answer the question,” he demanded.
    “I, I don’t know. When I was sleeping, I suppose I did. But when I woke up, I realized the evil which had possessed me.” She swallowed hard and her cheeks burned hot. “Why do you ask such a thing of me?”
    “The measurement of the sin for this dream is by how well you enjoyed indulging in the pleasures of the flesh. If you had said it was distasteful to you, then it wouldn’t be as great a sin. Since you found it enjoyable, you’ll have to accept a higher degree of punishment,” he said, his patience obviously exhausted. “I’m sure you know, for this sin the penance is a sound beating.”
    Maere hung her head and wrapped her arms around herself. To be flagellated in front of the entire community of sisters and brothers? “When?” She had fallen so low.
    “We’ll assemble in the usual place, behind the chapel. I will discuss this with the abbess. Someone will come for you at sunset.”
    Maere heard him take a step away from the anchorage, the loud call of a bird ringing out in the distance. “Is there no other way?” she whispered after him.
    “Absolutely none.”
     
    * * * *
     
    Dylan lay on his back, watching the play of light amidst the pine branches in the forest near St. Columba’s Abbey. It was hard to be here, so close to Maere, but forced to wait until the right moment to recapture her.
    She would be grateful, he decided, to be removed from the stricture of the convent. To be able to run free again would be her greatest joy, of that he was most certain. He smiled to himself. He would take her before Eugis had the chance.
    He reached up and pulled a small cone from a branch. Dylan closed his hand tightly around it for a moment. When he opened it again, the pinecone had been transformed into a miniature replica of its mother. With his free hand, he made a little hole in the soft needles and planted the tree there. As he worked, a raven flew overhead, loudly beating its wings before landing nearby.
    “Do you realize what they have planned for her tonight?”
    He leaned back, resting on one elbow. His eyes met Morrigu’s, but not before sweeping the length of her naked body as it transformed to human form. “Tell me.”
    “They will beat her,” she said, her voice smooth and without emotion. There was even the hint of a smile on her face. She walked to Dylan and sat down next to him. She reached her arm around his neck and pulled him near to her.
    He stiffened. “How do you know? Why are they doing this?”
    “I know because I heard the girl’s confession.” Morrigu licked her lips, then leaned over and ran her tongue along his cheek, tracing the silvery scar of her mark. “And it’s because of you she’ll be hurt.”
    Dylan sat up, leaving the goddess where she lay. “What do you mean ‘because of me’? How could that be?”
    “Now, now. Don’t play games with me, my love. I know you’ve been