Sorceress (51 page)

He glanced down the hillside to a spot lower than the crown of the mountain, a place where there was a mound on one side of the grassy lea and the sheer cliff face on the other. Far below was the angry roiling waters of the sea, and on the other side a trail leading from the village.

There he saw her. She was struggling up the steep path. Bryanna carried the baby in some kind of sling. Beside her was the man he’d seen her with, a man about the same size as he.

He watched for several minutes as they continued on their climb, obviously heading for the mound rising from the grass. Why in God’s name would they be out walking so soon after the birth?

Squinting, he saw something else. A shadow darting between the rocks, but following them closely. A flash of silver. Then a dark shape.

A wolf.

For the love of Christ, what was a wolf doing on this bit of land? His jaw hardened when he thought that the hungry beast was no doubt tracking down his next meal, smelling the blood from the birthing, intent on attacking.

It slunk back into the shadows.

But it wasn’t gone. Not yet.

Silently, Carrick reached into his quiver and pulled out a long arrow. If he saw the beast again, he would be ready. And it would die.

Bryanna refused to give in to the fear as Gavyn, the baby, and she climbed the gentle slope of the path leading up the mountain. So her child was born the day of Samhain night. So it was now dusk, when the Otherworld creatures were to be set free. She would not be afraid. Would not.

If this was to be her destiny, if this was how she would save the life of her child, so be it. She would follow the map and Isa’s instructions to search for a holy place.

Isa’s amulet was still near her, hanging from a leather cord around Bryanna’s neck. As she carried her baby up the hill rising so high above the sea, she felt the old woman’s presence. “Be with us,” she said, and sent a prayer to the Great Mother for the safety of her child.

Though Bryanna had expected a fight from Ivey upon leaving the inn, the woman hadn’t even shown her face. After the birth, the inn had become silent, as if no one were about. Bryanna tried to convince herself it wasn’t because of Samhain, though she knew in her heart there was no other reason. She’d been brought here to this island on this very night for a reason. ’Twas no coincidence of her child’s birth upon the very day.

She clung to her newborn with one hand and clutched the dagger in the other. Would she be able to protect her son?

“You do know where we’re going?”

“Yes.” She was breathing hard, her legs tired from the effort, her eyes scanning the hillside as it rose over the sea. Every once in a while she looked over her shoulder, so certain she felt someone following them, intent on doing them harm. Perhaps Ivey had gone to get others, and now those who claimed to be believers were tracking them down.

“Coelio. Believe.”

Night was falling fast, stars emerging in the purpling sky. The surf echoed as it pounded the rocks far below, the cries of seagulls fading.

“Tell me about this holy place. What are we looking for?” Gavyn asked.

“A tomb.”

Gavyn glanced at her as if he’d heard incorrectly. “Again, we have to dig up a body?”

“Nay, we have all the gems. We don’t need to search any longer,” she said.

“Then what are we doing?”

“Saving the life of our son,” she said as they reached a fork in the path, and she chose the trail leading ever upward. “I’ll know it when I see it.” How could she describe the vision she’d had at her grandfather’s hut and again in the bed? “’Tisn’t like a huge church, for it’s hidden below the ground and—Ahh.” They rounded a corner and the path ended in a wide meadow where the grass was now patchy and huge stones, giant rocks as tall as a man, were interspersed across the lea. As the wind whipped past the cliff face, she noticed a rise beneath the dry grass, a spot most people would assume was just a little hillock set upon this steep mountain.

“What?” he asked.

“Look on the map,” she told him, and as the light faded he unrolled the deer hide and scanned the stitched leather. “Well?”

“Aye,” he said, nodding slowly as his gaze scraped the raw land with its sheer cliffs to the sea. “At the ocean’s edge, these stone giants. ’Tis some sort of outdoor temple.”

The holy place. At that moment, Bryanna felt a shift in the air. A current as cold as demon’s blood whipped by in a gust of wind that ripped at her hair. Shivering to her soul, she turned her back to the wind and held her baby close. “Come, mayhap we can find shelter.”

Gavyn started searching. “I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I. Not yet.”

“What is there to understand, murderer?” a voice boomed from the shadows.

A frisson of fear skittered down her spine. She spun, holding her baby close with one hand, her dagger in the other.

In the gathering darkness, Gavyn’s face grew hard as steel. Hand on his sword, he turned to face the sound.

A man stepped out from behind a pillarlike stone. Even in the gloaming, Bryanna saw the resemblance between father and son.

“So ’tis true what they say about Samhain,” Gavyn said. “About all the monsters and beasts rising from the Otherworld. You,
father
, must be the first.”

Deverill of Agendor bristled. “Your tongue will be the first part of you I dismember, bastard.”

“Good.” Gavyn smiled as wickedly as a devil. Sword drawn, he stepped between his father and his child. “So you are not alone, are you?” Gavyn asked. “You are not brave enough to come without your thugs.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. They are scattered about this island, guarding the port, searching for you. Nay, bastard, this is just you and I.” Deverill lifted his sword high. “I have waited long for this,” he said over the roaring sound of wind and surf.

Gavyn charged.

“Nay, please! Do not,” Bryanna said, and again she felt the coldness sweep by.
“Isa, help me,”
she whispered, holding the dagger high.

And then she saw him.

The dark one, appearing from behind the rise.

Hallyd of Chwarel had found them.

Her soul became ice.

His sword was raised, his eyes centered upon the dagger.

“Stop!” Bryanna ordered, but he edged toward her, sword drawn.

Distracted, Gavyn turned.

“Give it to me,” Hallyd ordered, one hand outstretched, fingers wiggling in invitation. “The dagger, ’tis mine.”

“Nay.” She thrust it in front of her to ward him off. At that moment, Hallyd lunged toward her. In an attempt to protect Bryanna and Truett, Gavyn threw himself in front of the dark one’s sword.

“Nooooo!” she screamed, and from her lips came a spell, as deadly and dark as all of Hades. She cast it at Hallyd and felt the ground shift beneath her feet, the earth rending as night fell and the moon glowed bright. The chasm of the spirit world was opening wide.

Gavyn fended off Hallyd’s strike.

Behind him, the Lord of Agendor seemed to forget his son for a moment and turned to see the newcomer who had risen from the shadows, the Lord of Chwarel.

“You shrivel-balled liar,” Deverill yelled. “You who ask me for an alliance, and then thwart my men? Use them for your own purposes? Lie to me?” He was advancing on his new enemy, his feud with his bastard son temporarily forgotten. He held his sword high, death beating a tattoo at his temple. “You shall die first, liar,” he said, lips curled in disgust. “Before all others, you are going to die.”

Hallyd took one look at Deverill and his jaw tightened in a snarl of pleased fury. “Petty baron,” he muttered, “taking the word of a greedy spy. Oh, yes, I know this,” he said, his odd eyes glowing with the night. “You are mistaken, cur. ’Tis your time to leave this earth.” He held his ground as Deverill charged, wielding his weapon high.

Gavyn leapt. Intent on protecting his family, he planted himself between Bryanna and the two swordsmen.

Metal clanged.

Men grunted.

The wind howled.

“Run, Bryanna. Take the babe and run!” But even as he uttered the words, Gavyn knew there was no place to hide. The forces of evil were forever near.

Instead of running, she actually stepped closer. Gavyn grabbed one arm, but she held the dagger in front of her, pointing the blade toward the sea.

“Coelio,” she whispered over the howling wind. “I believe.” Chanting the word they’d seen on the map and the legend of the stones, she stood tall, dagger extended toward the howling ocean.

Gavyn felt a rumbling deep in the earth, a slow shudder that shook the ground.

The wind came up ever faster, wild gusts whirling around them. In the fury Hallyd leapt high into the air, holding his sword with both hands, and drove his blade deep into the body of his enemy.

The Baron of Agendor let go of life in a bloody howl.

But Hallyd didn’t wait for the man to breathe his last breath. Using his foot against Deverill’s chest for leverage, he withdrew the sword and turned to Gavyn.

“You’re next,” Hallyd promised, his eyes narrowing. “Do you know that you’ve been bedding my woman? That I was the one before you?” he said, hooking an angry thumb at his chest. “I took her virginity and warmed the bed that you later slept upon. That child is mine.”

The words burned her ears. “Nay!” Bryanna cried, her chanting broken by Hallyd’s horrid proclamation. She couldn’t believe, wouldn’t. . . . She glanced down at her babe, so perfect and pure. That this hateful, vile spawn of the devil would dare claim him!

She swallowed back her denials as he glared at her.

“You know, do you not?” he said. “You remember the rutting. How I took you from behind. Claimed you. Ripped you apart to plant my seed.”

She shuddered, nearly dropping the dagger.

“You lie!” Gavyn yelled, starting for Hallyd, his sword ready, every muscle tight.

“Gavyn, no!” she cried as darkness fell and the stars in the sky winked red. The wind was whistling now, and an opening had appeared upon the mound, a hidden entrance to the chamber where long before the old ones had crossed to the Otherworld.

Where there might be safety, a passage that could lead them away. . . .

But it was too late. Gavyn was ready for battle. He swung his sword and Hallyd spun away. Another strike, another blow to empty air.

With a snarl of triumph, Hallyd twisted.

His blade found Gavyn’s arm and sliced hard. A river of blood spurted and flowed.

Oh, nay, nay, nay! She had not come this far to lose him.

Gavyn lunged again, and this time Hallyd’s sword clanged against his opponent’s weapon so hard that the younger man lost his grip.

“Wait!” Bryanna cried. Whatever power was in the knife, ’twas not worth losing this man she loved, who was already bleeding. “Is that all you want?” she asked, as the storm swirled around them and the hole in the hillock widened, a dark yawning crevice. “The dagger? Then take it. Leave us!”

“You would give it up for him?”

“Yes. Take it!” She held the knife toward him, offering it with one arm while clutching her child with the other. Suddenly, Isa’s voice rose above the howling wind.

Her heart squeezed in terror. What could she do?

“Give me the dagger . . . or I will take the child,” Hallyd ordered, looking away from the man at his feet for an instant.

“What?” she screamed.

In that heartbeat, Gavyn retrieved his sword and sliced upward.

Hallyd leapt backward, his eyes still on Bryanna.

“You heard me. I want the baby.”

Gavyn thrust forward.

Hallyd spun quickly, his sword finding Gavyn’s flesh again. More blood appeared on her beloved’s shoulder, running down his arm. Hallyd sprang forward, sword wielded high.

“No!” she cried as his blade caught in the moonlight. She pointed the dagger at Hallyd and screamed a spell as dark as the dungeons of the Otherworld.

“That’s right,”
Isa whispered.
“Use the dagger. It’s your son’s only protection.”

From the shadows came a growl, a low, wild snarl, loud as the ocean and deadly as a plague.

Hallyd hesitated.

The wolf sprang.

Long fangs flashed in the night.

Hallyd’s sword glinted as he tried to whirl and face the new menace.

But he was caught off guard and the wolf’s teeth found his neck, ripping at the soft flesh as Hallyd’s sword clattered to the ground. He fell to the ground and wrestled the beast with his bare hands.

Horrified, Bryanna backed away from the snarling tangle of man and beast. She held Truett closer as she cast spell after damning spell of darkness upon Hallyd, the nightmarish demon-man who claimed to be the father of her precious child. No, no, no!

Gavyn appeared at her side and extended a bloody arm, shepherding mother and child past the open door of the underground tomb.

Then a wolf’s bay, as deep as the night, curled to the heavens. She looked over her shoulder to see Bane, her head thrust back in triumph. Blood dripped from her snout onto the lifeless body at her feet as she cried to the moon.

The wolf’s cry cut through the air, and then the soulful howl was carried off in the whistling wind. Bryanna was conscious of the thundering of her own pulse and Gavyn’s labored breathing beside her as they stared at their angel.

The creature possessed by her mother’s spirit.

Kambria.

Now a mother herself, Bryanna felt tears sting her eyes at the heroics of the wolf. That her mother had reached out from beyond to save her life, to save the child in her arms and the man she loved . . . ’twas an enormous relief, a miracle.