His Enchantment (23 page)

Coldness prickled Catarine as Princess Elspeth’s eyes remained on where they were hidden. Oh God, she knew they were there! Nay, she couldn’t. She’d kept hold of the gemstone on the bejeweled belt since they’d entered.

A moment later, her aunt’s gaze continued to sweep the immense cavern, then she focused back on her men. “But, they are close.”

Shaken, Catarine returned to her men’s side.

In the dim flicker of light, Drax’s worried gaze met hers. “I saw her look this way. Do you think she saw us?”

“If she had,” Catarine replied, “she would have ordered her men to attack. Regardless of her power gained, the belt protected us. More disturbing, she has gathered more men than I had anticipated. We canna allow them to leave the cavern.” Her warriors nodded. Long heart-wrenching moments passed. ’Twas time for her to give the order, one necessary, and one she damned.

“Catarine,” Kuircc said, his voice grave, “we knew a possibility for this moment would come, and have planned for such. We give our lives for you, for our kingdom, with honor.”

Tears burned her throat. She took a ragged breath, wishing with all of her heart that she had another choice. Except, none to save her realm existed. “I could have no finer friends.”

“Here.” Drax’s hand trembled slightly as he lifted his azurite from around his neck and placed it on her palm.

Kuircc lay his malachite beside Drax’s. “We are ready when you are, Princess Catarine.”

His formal words brought tears to her eyes. Her heart heavy, she curled her hand, the weight of their gemstones heavy upon her palm. This moment, they offered more than their loyalty, but their lives. As much as she wished to hand the gemstones back and leave, she would nae shame her warriors with the actions of a coward.

Her family depended on her.

Her realm’s safety lay in her hands.

And indeed, that moment had come.

“My thanks to each of you,” she whispered to her men as her gaze rested with reverence on each. Memories of the years with both, of the challenges and laughter they’d shared together slid through her mind. She savored each and every one, then focused on her next step.

Blood pounding, keeping her hand upon the gemstone belt, she edged toward the rim of the cavern.

A dull throbbing pulsed through Trálin’s head as he opened his eyes. In the distance he caught a glow of light at the mouth of the cave. He was inside a cave? What bloody happened? He was talking with Catarine as they prepared to enter the . . .

Catarine!

Her confirmation that she’d never intended for him and the Scottish knights to go with her and her warriors to confront Princess Elspeth rolled through his mind. Then he’d passed out. Passed out? Nay. He rubbed his neck where strong fingers had pressed just before he’d lost consciousness.

Drax. He must have turned invisible, returned and knocked him out while he spoke with her. A muscle worked in his jaw as he scanned the surrounding chamber. Unconscious, the other Scots lay sprawled nearby.

They all had been duped!

He made to push up, and his hand brushed something tucked within his garb. With a frown, he reached beneath the folds. His fingers touched the cool hilt of a dagger. What in Hades? In the faint light, he lifted the weapon.

In his palm, Catarine’s blade shimmered in the soft light.

Her request echoed through his mind. Why would she ask such? As if he could travel to the Otherworld? Or, did she expect her father to arrive with reinforcements too late?

As if his questions bloody mattered? She and her men were in danger, and by God, he’d nae give up on her. There must be something he could do to save them.

If they still lived.

Blast it, they did. He refused to believe otherwise.

With haste, Trálin shook each of the Scottish knights awake. After he quickly explained his intent to catch up to the other warriors and help, he withdrew a candle he’d stowed for their foray into the caves. Using his knife and a flint, he lit the taper. Lifting the candle before him, Lord Grey waved his men forward.

Twists and turns of rock littered their pathway, the damp smell inside ripe with the scent of limestone and hints of other odors he didna wish to identify. As they traveled deeper, the cavern walls flattened and at times, they had to squeeze between the narrowed rocks.

The soft gurgle of water sounded from ahead.

“We are nearing a stream,” Lord Grey passed to the others. As he started forward, a dim glow came into view. After several steps, he paused. Over the slide of water, another sound was barely audible. “Voices.” Trálin frowned. “Nay, ’tis in cadence.”

“I believe ’tis chanting, my lord,” the knight closest to him whispered.

“Chanting?” Lord Grey strained to make out the words. “If so, the voices are coming from an enormous contingent.” They’d found Princess Elspeth, except ’twould seem she’d recruited more men than he or Catarine had ever considered. He scanned the area. Where had she and her warriors gone? Blast it, they must find her. Dagger clasped in his hand, he guided his men forward.

The dim shimmer of light grew.

As they made their way around the next boulder, Trálin halted, then held up his hand.

In the weak outline ahead, Catarine was crouched near her warriors several paces from the ledge.

Thank God she was safe! He glanced toward the Scottish knights. “Keep low and follow me.”

Before he could move, Catarine began crawling toward the ledge. At her next movement, a glint of light flickered from the palm of her hand.

Her warriors’ gemstones! Fear sliced him. She was about to use them as she confronted her aunt! Lord Grey bolted toward her.

As Catarine began to inch closer, the soft pad of boots on dirt echoed in her wake.

They’d been discovered! Her pulse racing, she clasped her blade as she whirled to face the assailants.

In the muted light, Trálin came into view. Determination carved his face, his knights on his heel.

Her body’s trembles of fear shifted to outrage. The gemstones clutched in her hand, she scooted back, confronted him as he moved through the thin alley of rock. “What in blazes do you think you are doing?” she hissed. “You are
supposed
to be asleep!”

With a frustrated hiss, Trálin held up her dagger. “You forgot this.”

Guilt rolled through her, and as quick, her angst returned. “I do nae want you here. Leave. Now.”

A muscle worked in Lord Grey’s jaw. “We are staying.”

The stubborn man!

“You woke up?” Drax said dryly as he moved to stand beside her.

Lord Grey’s eyes narrowed on her warrior. “A fact you should thank me for. From the thunder of chants coming from the cavern below, ’twould seem each extra man is needed.”

“We had a plan,” Catarine stated.

“Aye,” Trálin growled as he shot a hard look toward where she held her warrior’s gemstones, “I saw exactly what you planned. Regardless, we are here.”

His bravery left her humbled. As if she’d expected less of him? “Lord Grey, the situation is dire. You must take your knights and go.”

“And allow you and your men to sacrifice yourselves?” Lord Grey demanded. “There must be another way to stop Princess Elspeth.”

Grief balled in her chest. She shook her head, prayed enough time remained for Trálin and his men to escape. “I and the warriors have considered every angle. There is none. Now, go. Please.”

Trálin’s body tensed. “If Princess Elspeth didna have a force, could she be stopped?”

She hesitated. “I am unsure.”

“Why?” Lord Grey asked, “because of the strength of her magic?”

“In part,” she replied.

Hope flickered in Trálin’s eyes. “In part? Why else would you believe her unstoppable? Wait. You sent Atair back to inform your father of your aunt’s treachery, so you believe there is a way to stop her. And if I am right, ’tis more than by sheer force.”

“You have no idea of what we are up against,” she warned.

“Catarine,” Trálin said, his voice hard, “we are at war and must use any of her weaknesses against her.”

She swallowed hard. “My dagger.”

With a frown, he stared at her blade. “You asked me to give it to your father. Why?”

“Because though a chance exists,” she replied, “I canna be sure the power of the two gemstones together will stop my aunt.”

“And the dagger will?” Trálin asked.

She nodded. “The reason I asked you to give it to my father.” Catarine paused, steadied herself. “The dagger was given to me at birth, passed down throughout the centuries. ’Tis more than a simple weapon that offers protection, but one blessed by the high priests, one able to kill another of the fey holding magic. With the enormity of his forces, I believe in battle my father could fight his way close enough to her to use it.”

Trálin glanced toward Drax and Kuircc. “And your fey warriors knew of your dagger’s potential.”

She nodded.

His eyes narrowed. “Why did you say naught before?”

“Did you nae hear me explain that with the sheer mass of her forces, for me and my men, ’tis impossible?” she replied, frustrated.

“I say we try. However slight,” Trálin said before she could speak, “we have a chance. I say we use it.”

Catarine glanced toward her fey warriors, then back to him. “How?”

“Wait here,” Trálin said.

In stunned disbelief, Catarine watched as he moved toward the ledge.

A moment later, Lord Grey paused, then moved back. A safe distance away, he crouched and hurried toward her.

Regret filled her as he halted before her. “Now you see what I—”

“I believe I can climb around the pillars of stone behind her,” Trálin interrupted. “Once I get close to her, I need you and your men to create a diversion.”

“I am nae sure it will work.”

“We lose nothing to try,” Trálin stated.

“Nay,” she whispered, “We lose your life as well as the lives of your men.”

Lord Grey’s fierce eyes narrowed. “We swore to help you. Nothing has changed.”

However she wished otherwise, he was right. Fearful for his life, Catarine nodded.

Sweat clung to Trálin’s back as he reached up and wrapped his hand around the next jut of rock descending from the cavern’s ceiling. Shoving his foot into an indent, he pulled and hauled himself up, the rich scent of limestone cloying. A chunk of stone broke loose beneath his boot. His body dropped. He reached for a nearby crevice, grabbed hold, and caught himself from falling.

Below, the fragment of rock bounced with a soft clatter as it descended.

Muscles aching, he glanced between the weave of slender, milky white columns to where Princess Elspeth was giving orders to her men below.

Amidst the faraway tumble of water, standing above the immense throng of her warriors on stone steps, Catarine’s aunt continued to speak.

Thank God, she’d nae heard. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Trálin glanced toward the ledge where Catarine and the others hid readied to create a diversion. And if that failed, to combine the fey warrior’s stones.

A tactic he was determined would nae happen.

Catarine’s dagger weighed heavy in his sheath as he reached up and wrapped his hand around the next misshapen pillar. He shoved his foot in a crevice. At his next step up, water dripped onto his face, the smell of limestone strong. He pushed on.

“Ensure you have all of your weaponry,” Princess Elspeth ordered, “and prepare to march.”

The sea of warriors below her cheered.

Trálin moved closer.

Long black hair flowed free down her back, her body-fitting gown of purple clad with weaves of gold and pearls. A finely hammered crown upon her head, Princess Elspeth crafted a picture of seductive evil. As she raised her scepter, the clear globe atop, embraced by the snake, began to glow.

Streams of light began to swirl and dance around the orb, then pulsed.

Waves of energy washed over Trálin.

Magic. A force that built an invisible wall seemed to breathe its own life.

Bedamned, he had to reach Princess Elspeth before the power she was sending out became too strong for him to push past.

The inverted pillars of stone before him began to swell and spiral, weaving around him as if a cage.

He ducked and moved through the complex tangle at an even faster pace.

The cavern began to quake.

Jolted back, Trálin grabbed hold of a pillar.

The pulses of light around the scepter increased to a frantic pace. “I will now open our path to depart!” Princess Elspeth aimed the ornate staff toward the far wall of the cavern.

Trálin cursed. He was nae close enough to stop her!

“Halt!” Catarine’s voice boomed.

Her aunt whirled, fury carving her face. The scepter’s glow weakened, and Princess Elspeth lowered the staff. “So you have arrived,” she stated with contempt. “But you are too late.”

“Am I?” Catarine held the two gems in her palm toward Princes Elspeth.

Trálin silently cursed.

Princess Elspeth—ignorant of his presence—smiled with putrid glee. “Princess Catarine, your gemstones are nae strong enough to do me harm.” Fierce eyes narrowed. “You know naught of how strong I have grown, but understand this, now, you and your men will die.”

Nae if he could bloody help it! Trálin withdrew Catarine’s dagger and slipped through the last of the stones.

Princess Elspeth raised the scepter. The globe began to glow. Light pulses again swirled around the orb. Eyes bright with malice, she angled the staff toward Catarine.

“Nay!” Trálin yelled as he lunged.

Shock widened Princess Elspeth’s eyes, and she jumped back. Her scepter shifted. Focused energy burst from the globe, slammed into the cavern wall far away from where Catarine and her warriors stood.