Awakening Her Soul to Destiny (28 page)

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Authors: Deborah R Stigall

BOOK: Awakening Her Soul to Destiny
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~*~

Ravon paced restlessly across the bridge connecting the twin towers of the fortress. Oblivious to the driving rain, his black hair lay plastered against his evil face. Spying one of his sentries on the ground below, Ravon bellowed to be heard above the storm, “You there! Anything?” At the sentry’s shaking head, Ravon pounded his fist against the stone wall of the castle in anger.

Caymber’s body had disappeared hours ago and yet no one had seen anything. Kaitla was nearby, he could sense her presence strongly, but couldn’t pinpoint her exact location. The sight of Caymber’s body shimmering and slowly disappearing had shaken Ravon badly. Kaitla had become a great deal more powerful then he’d imagined possible. With this sign of her powers, the vision he had foreseen within the fire would most assuredly come true.

Stomping back inside the castle, Ravon hurriedly headed for the bowels of the fortress, to once again question Etain. Losing consciousness during her last beating, Ravon had grown bored with tormenting her limp body. But surely she would be awake again by now.

The sound of his boots echoing down the hallway was met with a scurrying in the straw in the room up head. On hearing this sound, Ravon grinned evilly to himself. “Aye,
mother’s
awake,” he thought to himself with sadistic anticipation. Upon entering the room, it took a moment for his one good eye to adjust to the gloomy interior. Scanning the room for Etain’s tiny body, he finally found her cowering behind a pile of rotting straw in the corner. Weakened and blind from her torture, Etain was unable to shape shift in order to escape more of Ravon’s ruthlessness. All she could do was cower against the rough stone wall, praying for unconsciousness or death to rescue her from the pain.

Standing at the doorway with his hand on his hips, Ravon slowly cocked his head to one side, “Why, mother, are ye not comfortable here in the guest room?” he sneered. Concentrating on Etain’s broken body, he slowly lifted her above the floor until she hung suspended at his eye level, trapped in the spell of his stare. “Of course, if ye wouldna’ lie in the damp wet straw…I’m sure ye’d feel much better.” Suspended within his gaze, Etain’s body slowly moved until it was elevated high above a bare spot on the rough stone floor. “Here, mother…I think this ‘twill be much better,” said Ravon softly. As he spoke these words, he immediately released Etain’s body from his gaze, dropping it ruthlessly to the stone floor with a crash.

Lying in a heaped pile where she landed, Etain moaned incoherently, begging for release. Walking over to stand beside her, Ravon stuck the toe of his boot just beneath her ribs and with a heave, kicked her roughly to land against the stone wall across the room. “Ye’ll have ta’ speak just a little louder, Mother,” he mockingly whispered as he bent over her body. “I’m afraid I canna hear a word yer saying.”

Etain fell silent, managing to suppress her moans in the hopes Ravon would think she was again unconscious. Lifting her up by her hair, Ravon slung her broken body back behind the pile of straw with disgust. “Well, if yer going ta’ be rude and go back ta’ sleep…I’ll just put ye back where I found ye,” he said. Spitting on her crumpled form behind the straw, Ravon bowed deeply, “Until later, mother…we’ll play more when yer fully rested.”

Laughing sarcastically, he made his way out the door and headed back to the overlook between the towers. Sighing with satisfaction as he returned to his post, he couldn’t help smiling to himself. Nothing made him feel better then a good bout of torturing a helpless female…especially if that female happened to be his mother.

 

Chapter XIII

 

Silently leading their horses through the darkened woods, Jared and Macvorn froze in unison at the sound of someone weeping. Recognizing the sounds of despair, Jared dropped the reigns to his horse and ran instinctively toward the sobs. When he finally found Kaitla, she was curled into a tight ball atop a soft hillock of moss. Raising her head at the sound of Jared crashing through the woods, she held out her arms as she recognized him through the bleary veil of tears.


My Love,” Jared hoarsely whispered as he gathered Kaitla to his chest. “I feared I’d never see ye again.”

Burying her face in his chest, Kaitla sobbed uncontrollably. “He’s gone, Jared. He’s gone.”


Who, lass? Who’s gone?” Jared gently raised Kaitla’s face to meet his gaze, softly brushing her forehead with a kiss.


My father. He’s dead.” Kaitla closed her swollen eyes. Exhausted, she let her head fall limp against Jared’s shoulder.

Gathering her even closer in his arms, Jared softly stroked Kaitla’s hair. Rocking her gently in his arms as though she were but a child, he murmured faintly into her hair, “I’m verra sorry, my love…so verra sorry.”

Macvorn finally reached the clearing, noting the scene ahead with grim interest. Tying the reigns off on a low hanging limb, he slowly walked over to join Jared and Kaitla.

Eyes narrowed in silent warning, Jared glared at Macvorn, daring him to start trouble. Macvorn returned the glare then shifted his gaze to Kaitla’s closed eyes…attempting to read her mind. The vision meeting his probing senses startled him, a desolate void of anger and sorrow assaulted his senses, barring him from Kaitla’s innermost thoughts and emotions. Slowly, the deep golden eyes opened gazing deeply into Macvorn’s very soul.


How could you?” Kaitla quietly asked Macvorn, as she slowly rose to lean against a nearby tree.

Eyes dropping to his feet, Macvorn felt a crushing sense of loss, as he realized Kaitla had discovered his pact with Ravon. Searching his mind and soul, she had uncovered his uncontrollable greed for power and lands and the sight was ugly when revealed for all to see. Begging for forgiveness and understanding, Macvorn dropped to his knees as his eyes implored her to believe him, “Ye must know that I didna’ have part in yer father’s death.” Ignoring Jared’s snort of disbelief, he continued, “Kaitla, I had no idea Ravon would do such a thing…I thought he only wanted ye kept away from him.” Struggling to convince her, Macvorn lifted his hands in supplication, “I first did it for the powers and the land, but Kaitla, I’ve grown ta’ love ye. Please…ye must believe me.”

Shaking her head at the kneeling figure, Kaitla wearily drew close to Macvorn, bending to grasp his chin within her palm. “I know what lies in your heart, Macvorn. You’re not an evil man…but your greed has come close to making you as vile as Ravon…is that really what you want?”

As the hazel green eyes slowly clouded with unshed tears, Macvorn quietly whispered, “I only want ye to love me.”

Turning her back to him as she strode toward Ravon’s nearby fortress, Kaitla glanced over her shoulder at the still kneeling figure. “That will never happen,” she stated coldly. Her look softening as her gaze fell upon Jared, “I have to do this alone. Ravon will use anyone I care about to weaken me.” She stared into his eyes, willing him to obey her.

Setting his jaw, Jared’s stony expression clearly conveyed his feelings. “I’ll not allow ye to go alone, Kaitla,” he stated simply as he unsheathed his dhundare and took his place at her side. “I didna’ travel this far through this damnedable storm ta’ quietly wait in the woods while ye risk yer neck!”

Eyes flashing, Kaitla whirled as lightening punctuated her words, “Don’t you realize that’s what Ravon wants! Look what he did to my father. Etain is trapped in there too and she’s hurt, Jared, I can sense it!” Grabbing him by his sleeve, Kaitla shouted, “I love you, damn it! Will you please, for once, do what I ask!” Before he could utter another retort, Kaitla quickly shrank into the form of a sleek brown ferret and bounded off to scurry unobserved into the castle gate.

Grabbing Jared by the shoulder, Macvorn asked, “Surely ye dinna mean to let her go alone?” Kaitla might never forgive him for all the evil he had wrought, but he’d not stand idly by and let her scamper off to her own destruction.

Gray eyes flashing dark with anger, Jared spat, “Are ye daft?” Grabbing the reins of his horse, he quickly mounted and started toward the castle.


Jared, wait!” Macvorn shouted. “Ye’ll never make it that way. Let me shape-shift ye and we’ll go to save the lass together.” Dropping his eyes to the ground in shame, “It’s the least I can do,” he mumbled barely loud enough for Jared to hear.

Eyeing Macvorn warily, Jared slowly dismounted from his snorting horse, “And why would ye be willin’ ta’ do that?” he asked, silently daring Macvorn to double-cross him.


Because I love her too,” Macvorn said quietly. Slowly assuming the form of a large black bat, Macvorn barely brushed Jared’s shoulder with one dark wing so that he too, transformed into the same shape. Wings flapping against the rising wind and rain, the two swooped into one of the dark narrow slits of the northernmost tower of the castle. Alighting on the cold stone ledge, Jared and Macvorn listened carefully before assuming their true forms.

The turret room of the tower was as black as the inside of a cow. Carefully running their hands along the wall, Macvorn and Jared slowly felt their way to a large wooden door, hopefully leading to a passageway into the heart of the castle. Pressing his cheek against the door, Jared listened carefully for any sign of activity on the other side of the door. Reaching to pat Macvorn’s arm as a signal to continue, Jared slowly eased the door open. A dim shaft of light flickered through the crack in the door, the result of a lone torch lighting the grim hallway. As Jared crept through the door, Macvorn placed a hand upon his shoulder to hold him back. The two immediately dissolved into the forms of two tiny gray mice. Tiny pink ears perked forward, Macvorn eyed Jared with his beady little eyes, “Much safer, don’t ye think?”

Wiggling his pink nose in agreement, Jared examined his new form critically, “Aye, good thinkin’…let’s be on our way,” he replied, stroking his whiskers in anticipation. Squeezing their little gray bodies tightly against the stone wall, the two mice scurried undetected down the long narrow corridor to the first landing along the stairwell.

Listening carefully before venturing across the landing, Jared and Macvorn darted down the steps and rounded the corner into the main hall to a secluded spot behind a hanging tapestry. The huge room was dank and gloomy, the crude torches ensconced along the walls doing little to dispel the darkness. The wide stone floor had been carelessly covered with rushes that had grown mildewy and rotten with the damp weather. The massive hearth at the end of the great hall was littered with damp piles of wood, puddling on the floor. The fire blazed hot casting sinister shadows across the floor. A large wooden bench was close beside the hearth with a roughly hewn table beside it. At the foot of the bench slept an enormous black dog, roughly the size of a bear. Macvorn and Jared felt a brief moment of alarm as the massive beast raised his head at the sound of their entrance to the room. They exhaled in relief however as the slobbering creature wearily dropped his head back to the floor to resume his nap.


Now what?” whispered Macvorn to Jared as he eyed the sleeping dog.


Now we wait,” Jared replied. “If anything happens tonight, it will happen here. If we keep scurrying all over this filthy den, we’ll end up alerting Ravon to our presence. There’s no figurine’ where Kaitla has gone but I’m sure she’ll end up here, I can feel it.”

Detecting a slight movement across the room, Macvorn quickly shushed Jared with a tiny paw to his mouth. Turning in unison, the two watched as across the room in the shadows against the wall, crept a sleek brown ferret. Slinking within the shadows, only an occasional glint from the sly creature’s eyes betrayed its presence. At the sound of approaching footsteps, the ferret flattened against the wall, completely disappearing within the shadow of a pile of logs.

Staggering across the room to collapse on the wooden bench, Ravon stared into the flames in a drunken stupor. Leaning against the table for support, he upended the tankard to his mouth, ignoring the rivulets of wine escaping his mouth and running down his face. Ravon heaved the empty tankard into the fire, cackling satanically as the sound of the crash and the alcohol flare startled the great dog at his feet. Suddenly growing quiet, Ravon slowly raised his head…cocking it to one side as though listening.


Ye might as well reveal yerself, bitch. I know yer here,” Ravon sneered as he wiped the wine from his face with the back of his hand. The room was still and all that could be heard was the echo of the crackling of the fire. Staggering to his feet, Ravon began scanning the shadows with his single eye narrowed to slit. “I can feel yer presence…show yerself!” he roared, reeling about the room, searching the shadows in vain. A brief flutter of rushes at the end of the room caught Ravon’s attention. “Kill the wench, Dog!” he sputtered pointing to the source of the sound. Bounding to his master’s bidding, the lumbering canine thoroughly searched through the mildewy straw, sneezing ferociously, as he found nothing.

Pounding the wooden table with his clenched fist, Ravon held onto it for support as he once again searched the room with his bloodshot eye. “If ye mean to drive me mad, ye’re too late!” Ravon mumbled as he swayed back onto the bench. “I’ve been quite insane fer years, ye see…and I rather enjoy it!” he roared to the room at large.


I have Etain, ye know,” Ravon stated boldly as he rose once again from the bench and staggered to the center of the room. “I’ve no’ killed her yet, but dinna think that I won’t!” He swayed uneasily in the center of the room, slowly pivoting to search the shadows for Kaitla. “I’ve made sure she’ll never use those damned eyes of hers again,” he shouted as he slowly spun on his heel.

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