«As ye know what I am, then ye also know that I owe you an allegiance. Ye have saved my life.» She knelt before him in the sand with the sword now safely pointed down. «I am Aine. What do you desire?» She kept her head bowed, but her quicksilver eyes looked up at him alluringly and he felt the familiar tightening in his groin. It had been a long time since he enjoyed a woman. A longer time since he’d fallen into a trap. She appeared so regal, alike to a queen, even though her position was submissive and she was clothed in naught but her hair. She stayed her place, waiting for his answer.

«I want my sword back,» Conn said and was amused to see a flare of anger light her pale eyes. He held out his hand to help her up as he took his sword from her grip with the other. She put a hand to her head as she stood, looked at him with bewilderment in her quicksilver eyes, and then fainted into his arms.

Aine watched the man through slitted eyes as he placed more driftwood upon the fire. She had fainted. Too long without food or rest had weakened her, just when she needed to be strong. She’d escaped from Tor Inis, had a weapon and a horse at her disposal, along with a strong man that she could enslave, and instead she’d fallen into his arms like a youngling who drank too much mead.

He was handsome in the way of human men. Broader than the Sidh. Nearly as tall. Darker, and definitely more dangerous. His answer to her offering alone was enough to show his intelligence. He also showed kindness — she now wore his linen chainse and was wrapped in his cloak. What would a man such as this want?

«Are you hungry?» he asked. He knew she was no longer asleep. She would have to be very careful around this man.

Aine sat up. He had caught a fish and cooked it while she slept. Normally the smell would have awakened her. She must be weaker than she thought. «Once more I am indebted to you,» she said as he handed her part of the fish.

He settled back against his saddle and watched her with his dark eyes. His hair was a midnight black, with the straight ends brushing across his wide shoulders. He wore a leather jerkin, which opened against a broad chest and showed long arms bulging with muscle. His nose was proud and straight except for a bump at the top where it had been broken. His strong jaw showed only a day’s growth of beard and a scar marred his left cheek from the corner of his eye to the curve of his chin. Everything about him bespoke a warrior, from the casual closeness of his weapons to the steady perusal of his gaze. He was sizing her up and trying to decide if she would be a friend or foe. His kindness to her could be perceived as a weakness by some. Aine decided to see it as a sign of a sharp mind. Men who overestimated their worth and underestimated hers had suffered greatly for their mistakes. Would he do the same?

«Where do you come from?» he asked.

«By birth or as of late?»

«Of late.» He dipped his head to the sea behind her. «How came you to be on this shore?»

«I was held captive on Tor Inis.» Aine licked the last of the fish from her fingertips. «By Balor and his minions.»

He gazed out at the isle and the lightning that slashed across the sky. She knew Balor would soon find her escaped from the tower. She must be gone from this place before the tide moved out and the passage between his isle and this shore was opened. Yet she could not leave until this man released her. She had traded one form of captivity for another.

«You escaped?»

«I threw myself into the sea from the tower,» she said. «It was my hope to escape. Or die.»

«’Tis the way of most things in this world.» He sounded weary and bitter. There were more questions he could ask her, should ask her, yet he did not. Most men would. But then again, most men would have taken advantage of her weakness by now, and then regretted it when they realized her true power.

The fire popped and crackled as a piece of the driftwood split and fell into the coals. The flames shot higher and turned his face into shadows and light as if it were carved of stone. If she were to return to her home world, then she must do it soon, ere the chance would be lost for another year. Not that a year was much to her in this world. Still she had been too long gone and longed to see her people again.

«What is your name?»

«Conn Daithi.»

Daithi. An old and proud name. As old as Ireland. «Who do you fight for Conn Daithi?»

«I fight for myself.» His eyes were steady upon her, challenging her to say otherwise.

A roar broke the peace of the night and drifted across the water from the isle behind them. «’Tis a good thing then,» she said. «As soon enough you will do battle.»

Conn heard the war cry as it rolled across the waves. Aine spoke of Balor as her captor. Balor who was a myth, just as the Sidh were a myth. Yet a Sidh sat across from him at the fire. If the Sidh existed then Balor must also. It was the way of things.

He should have left her in the water. Left her to drown. He would be in the village by now, drinking fine mead and eyeing a wench to help pass the long hours of the night. But alas, he did not, so he picked up his sword and walked to the water’s edge.

«Is what they say of him true?»

«’Tis so,» she replied.

How did one fight a man who could kill with a look? Conn glanced over his shoulder. She had come to join him, wearing nothing but his chainse. The wind whipped the tail of it across her body, along with her hair. Her pale locks swirled around her as if caught up in a whirlwind. She studied him once more with her quicksilver eyes, taking his measure. For some strange reason he did not want her to find him lacking. Conn flipped his sword around in his hands to loosen his muscles and relax his stance.

«He will come across the passage when the tide reveals it.» Her voice was steady and calm. «There is still time for you to go on your way.»

Her words were like a punch to his gut. «Do ye think me a coward?» Why did he care what she thought?

She kept her eyes on the tower. «Nay, I think this is not your battle to fight.»

Conn studied her profile. Her features were pleasant and without defect. Indeed they were most pleasing, yet he preferred his women to be buxom and curved. Still there was something about her. Something that called out to his soul. Something that he had not felt in a very long time. A thing that he thought long gone and lost in the blood of the many battles he had fought. «What does he want with you?»

She shrugged. «What does any man want with a Sidh woman?»

It was long said that if a man could capture a woman of the Sidh then that man would have his heart’s desire. There were also stories of men who had attempted to capture a Sidh woman and suffered greatly from the curses the women put upon them. Some had lost their ears, some their eyes, some their sons and daughters, and some their very souls. Who was Balor that he would not suffer thusly?

Conn studied her closely. «If I go what will become of you?»

«He will take me once more to the tower and use me as hostage against my kinsmen. He thinks to have our treasures. He thinks that they are tangible things that he can place in a chest and lock away. He is a fool as most men of your world are.»

«Ye do not have a great opinion of the men of this world,» he observed.

«The men of your world seek to use me for their own end. And yet here ye stand, one who could have used me dearly in my weakness and chose not too.»

«I am not a raper of women, nor am I a thief. I only take what is due me. My wages, some food, and most nights a dry place to pass the time. I earn my way honestly in all things.»

«Ye have honour.» She did not question it nor did she seem surprised by it as her earlier words would have led him to believe.

«’Tis all I have to keep me company.» He was bitter and his words betrayed his weakness. «’Tis Samhain. Can ye not go back to your world?»

«He holds my key on a chain about his neck. Without it I cannot return.»

«I will take you with me.»

«He will follow me. If we go to the village he will tear it and the people within it apart to have me. No one around me is safe.»

He knew it to be true. He’d seen men and women of power do the same. Was it not the reason he sought peace? He was tired of the senseless killing over the whims of others, especially those who wore the crowns. Was it not the purpose of the kings and queens to care for the people? At least this woman of the Sidh showed compassion for those who were innocent. She would not bring death and destruction to any village.

She spoke without conceit. She knew her value to Balor who thought she was the way to great treasures. Yet she said there were none. Mayhap Balor did not realize that the woman in herself was the treasure, or could be with tender care.

The wind shifted, a sure sign of the retreating tide. How long until the way was cleared? Long enough for him to think on his life and his mistakes. The woman, Aine, must have cast a spell on him ere he would have left long ago. It was his only reasoning for why he still stood with the surf lapping at his boots while he looked at the lightning that streaked about the tower. Yet she had urged him to go before Balor came on shore. There was something inside him that protested the thought of leaving her to the beast.

«How dost one fight someone who can kill you with a look?»

She gazed at him, her quicksilver eyes once more taking his measure. She tilted her head to the side and smiled. «There is a way but it would mean ye would have to put your trust in me. Do you think ye can do so, Conn Daithi?»