The Chieftain Needs an Heir - a Highland ménage novella (Clan MacKrannan's Secret Traditions) by Jonnet Carmichael Read Free Book Online

path, which Sorcha thought unusual for them, until she saw that a story in a sweep of frescoes was being shown to her in reverse.  At each stage they lit a candle in the holders set into the floor, illuminating the paintings one by one.
    It began with a depiction of the Green Man, pagan god of fertility, foliage pouring from his mouth and all over his face to become his hair and skin.  Another candle was lit, and Sorcha saw a handsome MacKrannan Chief, a grandly dressed fellow with the three eagle feathers in his bonnet.  The fresco melted into MacKrannan Castle with the sea and the mountains and another candle brought the clansfolk into view, and the village and the outlying cottages and farms, the fields lush with grains and crops and with livestock and their young.  Further candles showed the fresco turn into a painting of an infant held lovingly in a man's two hands, and the babe holding a single eagle feather in his own tiny fist.
    The chamber had the feel of a place of ceremony, for above the frescoes Sorcha could see the domed ceiling with highly ornate paintings of sheaves of harvest grains, swirls of fruits flowing from cornucopia, and hives with swarms of bees flying among the stars in the cosmos.  The oak floor was a work of art in itself, all carved from varying colors of woods to reflect the scenes in the ceiling, and feature made of a circle of stars. 
    The Wisewomen did not speak, concentrating only on lighting candles and watching milady's face as she absorbed the panorama.
    A goddess heavy with child was revealed next, and Sorcha felt a pang of longing at the look of contentment in her smile.  Another candle brought the same goddess with the same contented look and a much flatter belly, the placement of her two hands on her robe showing she knew what was to come.
    The last candle had three wicks.  Even with the enhanced light, Sorcha strained to make out the subject of the final fresco.  It seemed to be part of an arch covered in vines and leaves, and she could see a man's bare shoulder and part of his back… and entangled in the arch's vines was a woman's hand, and the man's hand gently covering it.
    T he heady fragrance from so many of Oona's candles all at once was quite dizzying, even in such a large space.  The theme of the fresco she'd seen in reverse was obviously the cycle of fertility for the MacKrannans.  And here was the beginning, the arch signifying the gateway to procreation.  Sorcha felt the gateway calling to her in a faraway siren, and her feminine places ached for Niall.  She walked slowly around the frescoes again, in the correct order of time passing sunwise, taking in the whole story at once and walking past the fireplace to the beginning again.
    The arch and the man's hand atop the woman's…   Never had she felt readier to join with Niall.  This bower of love and fertility would make their coupling all the more beautiful.  She looked to the paintings of the goddess with a babe in her womb and knew that their son would be conceived here this night.  Her nipples brushed against the inside of the soft robe and a shiver ran through her.
    "Will ye bring the chieftain to me now, Oona?  I can wait no longer to be with him."
    "I will.  It is time," said Oona, as if enchanted herself.  She pointed to a star on the floor, the one nearest the fire.  "Venus is yer place to be when he comes.  Hilde and Cecily will wait wi' ye."
    The two neophyte Wisewomen led Sorcha to her place in the circle and took their own places on the stars either side of her.  Sorcha nearly laughed, but did as she was bid and wiggled her toes on the carved rays, relishing the sensation.
    " Only for now.  Niall and myself will hardly have need o' company!"  Her gaze swept the room from her prime vantage point.  The bonniest of places for their reunion… all it needed now was the bed she was sure the Wisewomen would soon fetch.
    Oona bowed her head to still Sorcha's speaking and when she again