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Celtic Love Knots Volume 5
by Jennah Sharpe

Category: Erotica/Erotic Romance
Description: Author Jennah Sharpe presents two erotic romance short stories set in ancient Roman times and the Celtic lands of the Roman Empire. As enemies of Rome, how can two Daoine Sidhe brothers find their destinies with the daughters of a Roman commander? 'The Prisoner'--Samuel Dannon, Sidhe warrior and Druid leader, wants nothing more than a warm woman by his side. When a daughter of Rome frees him from bondage, she insists on following him. How can he say no? 'The Whisperer'--Elijah Dannon, animal whisperer and reluctant son of the Sidhe, saves a young Roman woman from death. When she tries to seduce him, he is torn between loyalties to his kin and his desires.
eBook Publisher: Whiskey Creek Press, 2007
eBookwise Release Date: December 2007

eBookeBook

2 Reader Ratings:
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Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [70 KB]
Words: 14950
Reading time: 42-59 min.


"Jennah delivers a wonderful story"--Sierra, MyBookCravings Reviews


SONS OF THE SIDHE:

THE PRISONER

by

Jennah Sharpe

The torches in the camp stood tall and unwavering in the still night. The noise of the men was now a soft hush. Many had retired for the night, but Pandora was wide awake. This was the end of her seventh day in this new land. Pandora, her sister and their father had traveled far from their home to assist in converting the inhabitants of these barbaric isles to the ways of Rome. As daughters of the phalanx commander, they traveled in limited luxury. It wasn't what they were used to back home in Rome. Her sister, Arista, felt it most acutely, bundling in furs in the evenings and rubbing her feet with salts at the end of the day.

Of course, there were times when Pandora questioned their sanity in traveling to this strange land of mists. There were so many stories of frightening creatures. The men sat around the fires at night, speaking of water sprites, banshees and the powerful Sidhe--fantastical creatures that could make one vanish and never be heard from again. The stories sent shivers of intrigue coursing up her spine in the night as she lay on her furs. Despite her father's assurance that they were just stories, Pandora felt they must take care to not too dramatically tilt the world of those they were subduing. Her father's soldiers would hear none of her talk. She was a woman and was not welcome in the least on this journey. She was tolerated as the daughter of the commander, as were her sister.

It was a night for thinking. The air was quiet, and the scent of the campfires was comforting. She felt safe and protected. It had been many years since the death of their mother. Pandora and her sister chose to travel constantly with their father rather than impose on family in the city. On nights such as this, Pandora knew she'd made the right choice.

Pandora's father walked over to her and seated himself at her left. "You think too much, my dear. Of what are you dreaming?'

"I do not dream, Father. I worry of the integrity of our fight." She gazed down at her hands in her lap.

Her father raised his eyebrows. "Pandora, you doubt the wisdom of Rome?"

"No, Father. I worry of revolt." She sighed. "We desire to change these people because they are not like us."

"They are barbarians, my dear. We work to civilize them."

"The revolts are becoming more organized. I hear the men talking in the night. They talk of Daoine Sidhe warriors, fearsome fighters of incomparable strength."

Gaius Livicus patted the shoulder of his eldest daughter. "Trust me, Pandora. I brought you and your sister here because I knew you could endure what the men can. I would not be without you. We are doing the right thing."

Pandora looked into the fire before her as if it could verify her father's words. The dying coals sparked and snapped erratically, bathed in their swaths of orange fire. She reached for another stick of wood beside the log she sat on. She lifted it slowly, careful not to scratch her hand on the rough bark. The flames leaped higher, licking at the dry wood. Still, the fire told her nothing.

She closed her eyes. "I do trust you, Father, as does my sister. You've taken good care of us."

Her father stood. "I'm going to lie down. Tomorrow will be another long day of travel. Caledonia is many days away yet. Go to sleep, my dear. You need your rest as much as the men."

He turned to leave. Pandora watched him walk to his tent, lift the dirty canvas flap and let it fall behind him. His shadow moved around inside until he extinguished the candle. At least he could sleep. Something tickled at Pandora's insides, something she couldn't name. She would not sleep this night.

Pandora knew her father had good intentions in wanting her to wed a soldier, but the way these men talked about women in general, and her family in particular, left much to be desired in terms of the qualities she wanted in a lifelong companion. The soldiers made bets around the fires before herself and Arista. Which sister would be the first to choose a husband, and who among them would be chosen? Who among them would be the first to deflower a Livicus maiden? Honey mead consumed, flatbread eaten, they tossed coins to one another in wagers. Inevitably, because they were male, talk would turn to a more sexual nature. What would their breasts feel like? Which would put up a fight and which of the two would lie willingly in the bed of a man? Of course, her father, the great Gaius Livicus, was never present at these talks. The men greatly respected their leader. Respect for women seemed to be another matter all together.

Thus far, Pandora was disgusted with the choosing. A few of the younger boys were fun to tease and play with but they were just that--boys. They had no interest in marriage just yet. They had the whole of Caledonia to conquer. What was a woman? They knew nothing of women.

Pandora's younger sister, Arista, liked to play with the men. Her sister was of the opinion that their father's men were mere playthings. Pandora conceded there were a few men who were handsome and would make good husbands; however, there was never the spark she'd dreamed of. When her eyes met theirs, her insides didn't flip nor did she ache for them to touch her. She would leave them to her sister. There wasn't a man for her in these hills.

Pandora's eyes became heavy as she sat mesmerized by the flames of the cookfire. Moments later, the yelling began, waking her and sending her thoughts of marriage to the back of her mind. She sat straighter on her log as if that would identify the cause of the ruckus. Squinting in the firelight, she caught a glimpse of men running back and forth between the pavilions at the far end of the camp.

"They come! They come!" someone called out in alarm. The cry rose, one voice joined by many.

In her peripheral vision, her father's candles burst to life within his tent. He charged out, pulling his battle gear over his nightclothes.

One of the men ran up to Gaius Livicus, lowering his head in respect. "Commander, the Celts attack." He was panting hard and the words came out in short gasps.

Livicus looked around at the numbers of his men flocking to the west. He caught sight of Pandora sitting by the fire. She stood, panic growing like an unfurling bud in her stomach. Hugging her fur cloak tight around her neck, she watched her father run with a slight limp to the commotion with his cumbersome sword.


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