A Storm of Passion by Terri Brisbin Page A

superficial wounds and nothing that would take care of her. Still, he thought she might be useful later, so he did not need to follow through with any other action against her…for now.
    “Leave her to me, Ivar.”
    Ivar bowed, and their paths diverged as they reached the lower floor. He fought the urge to rub his hands together in unseemly glee at the turn of things; he would give in to such childish satisfactions only when everything was accomplished. Then, he would shout it from the battlements.
    Diarmid is dead.
    Long live Steinar, true lord of this isle.

Chapter Eight
    T he next several days passed quickly for her. Although he slept there in his chambers each night, she saw little of him during the days. Where he went and what he did, no one said, but he would arrive back well after dark and leave at first light.
    The Seer also grew more and more agitated as the days passed and the visions grew closer, though he never asked to take her to his bed. She would spy him staring at her, lust filling his dark green eyes, and notice the heat in the chamber rise, along with that strange scent, but as long as she put her mind to it, it did not affect her as it had that first time.
    Some items had appeared in her prison corner, a stool on which to sit, a comb and a woolen shawl, even another gown and stockings and a pair of shoes to replace the ones lost when she arrived here. Fairly strange, yet kind, treatment of a prisoner, but she accepted it.
    Only Breac and Agnes were permitted in his chambers alone with her. For some reason, the Seer never allowed Ranald to be alone there. Moira knew he was Diarmid’s man, but sensed some loyalty within him for the man he served.
    They all called her Ceanna, and for now no one suspected that she was the one sought out by the Seer as Moira. She wanted to ask him about that, but did not, fearing the answer she would get.
    No word had made it into her seclusion about Gillis, so she could only pray he’d escaped Diarmid’s rough justice and made it back to the mainland. His only sin had been to fall for her sad story and to give her a place to live and sleep. Her favors, such as they were, were not a good exchange for his life, which she knew he would forfeit on her account if caught.
    The day of the Seer’s visions arrived, with the fullness of the moon, and his chambers were transformed in a receiving room. The bed and the screen that separated it from the rest of the chambers were pushed closer to the wall to allow more observers to see the proceedings. Her few belongings were shoved under the bed and her stool taken away, forcing her to stand against the wall to watch. A guard had been ordered to stand at her side, and she recognized Ennis as he took his place there, forbidden by the Seer to leave until the chambers were cleared after his vision.
    He’d eaten only at midday, she noticed, and had spent hours pacing around the chamber since then. Last month, she’d not seen this part of it, as she had been hiding beneath his bed until all was clear. The Seer spoke to no one as the crowd entered, first standing in the far corner, staring off at nothing, and then sitting on his chair.
    Lord Diarmid arrived and escorted several men she knew not. He directed them to places close to the Seer’s chair, so she suspected one of them would be the recipients of the vision today. He left them, walking in her direction, and not even Ennis would be able to stop him if he chose to approach her.
    Which he did.
    Moira tried to remain calm, but Diarmid played on her fears as only an expert could.
    “Obviously, Connor has not followed my methods after all. You can still stand up straight.”
    She fought not to tremble before him.
    “I told him how much you like the whip and cane while being fucked,” he said in a low and ominous voice so only she could hear it. “I offered to show him how to make you scream and weep.”
    She turned her face away, but he moved nearer. Standing closer now and