Authors: Sophia Johnson
Tags: #paranormal romance, #revenge, #alpha hero, #warrior women, #blood oath, #love through the ages
"We need not search further for her. She
arrived at Mary Magdalen this night. I have no doubt she'll have a
sound, dreamless sleep for she will feel safe." Grunda nodded her
head.
"Why do ye think this, old woman?" Broccin's
brows met as he asked. "'Tis the last place Elyne would go."
"And the last place ye would look. They
recognized her. She asked for sanctuary saying Graemme of Clibrick
means to murder her."
If Elyne had been with them, Graemme was so
angry at the words he would be tempted to shake her until her
brains became so scrambled they would turn to mush. Ha! If they
weren't already.
"She will be safe there whilst ye decide what
to do when ye go for her," Grunda added. "Stand so I may tell if ye
have changed this day."
They could all go to Hades and back before
Graemme married a woman who was so piss-brained she could think
he'd do such a thing. He was ready to tell them so when he looked
at Magnus. Magnus shook his head and murmured for him to humor the
seer.
Graemme stood, rigid and straight. Anger
streaked through his body like thunderbolts.
Grunda stared into his eyes. "Angry enough to
kill. 'Tis not her, though, but the fool who mistreated his
children."
Broccin spluttered, but Lady Joneta slapped
his arm and told him to hush!
Graemme could swear he heard Grunda ask if he
wanted to swive Elyne, but no sound came from her mouth. She
chuckled and looked down. His cock had stirred to life. By Satan's
bug-riddled navel, was she a witch who could control his cock?
Slowly, she walked around him, stopping at
different spots as she had done to so many people. Did she read
them by the set of their shoulders, the rigidity of their muscles?
Mayhap she could see a person's aura? She took so long he began to
fidget.
Finally, she surprised him. She faced him and
put both hands on either side of his head. She held still a bit
then ran her fingers through his hair. She smiled, dropped her
hands and motioned for him to sit.
"Well, now. This lad will make a fine husband
for the girl. If he uses his heart and handles her right, she will
lose her fear that he will beat and discard her. She will think
only of having his bairns suckling at her breast."
Graemme felt his tension ease at the picture
her words created.
"I leave when the sun rises," he said.
"Nay. Ye are still angered because she broke
her vow to be here. Bide for a day. Take only enough warriors for
protection so ye may travel fast. Few men together will not look
threatening." Grunda gazed at Broccin and studied him. "There is a
small hunting lodge in the woods nearby surrounded by Scotch pine,
Juniper and Birch trees. I saw there a man who has black hair and
deep eyes. 'Twas Ranald's brother afore he died. He took women
there to spend slow days of making love, eating and drinking.
'Twill be the perfect spot for Graemme to take Elyne."
"The wedding is less than a sennight."
Broccin sounded impatient, though he looked like he didna dare turn
his back to this ancient soothsayer.
"Pshh! It can wait for a few days. Cook
enough food for yer guests to gorge on." Grunda dismissed his words
like a mother would an annoying youngling.
"They come for a festive occasion. They'll
not sit around and gorge themselves all day," Broccin snorted.
"Men find their days fly by with contests of
feats of strength. They will be more than happy to drink and fight
for an extra day or two. Plan some hunts. It makes them feel
powerful to kill something. When Graemme returns with her, his
bride will be tame and peaceful."
"A good plan. We leave in two days." Graemme
stopped and stared at Grunda. "Ye are sure she can be found at this
Magdalen Convent?"
"Aye. 'Tis the only place she could travel to
in a short time with no baggage. And she trusts them to protect
her. I will tend to the wee dog tonight. He will be his old self
when ye make the journey. Seeing him will soothe her."
Graemme nodded and picked up his forgotten
wine goblet and drank it down. As his stomach felt its warmth, he
began to feel more confident.
"Wouldn't she be more soothed if we take you
and Lady Joneta with us?"
"Are ye such a weakling ye must have women do
yer work for ye?" Her voice was like thunder.
"Dinna call me a weakling, old woman, else ye
will see how far ye can fly out yonder window. Without a
broom!"
Graemme's voice roared. If he were on a
battle field, his enemies would think twice about attacking him. He
put his hands on his hips, his eyes shooting sparks of anger.
When Grunda cackled with laughter, he felt
like a fool.
"Dinna be chicken-brained, lad. Were I a
witch, I would pull ye with me and drop ye in the same pig sty
where Elyne awakened one morn."
Broccin's eyes widened. "How came ye to know
of that?"
"Same as I know where she is. I see things no
other can." She shook her head at him. "Nay, I am not a witch as ye
are thinking. Just a seer with many years of living."
Magnus grinned at her. "When Muriele first
came to Kinbrace, Grunda laid a curse on all who would do harm to
Muriele. 'Twas so dire, men went around checking their tarse at
every chance, afeared it would shrivel to a thin nub and fall
off."
"Huh! Elyne must have taken lessons from
her!" Graemme scowled at the old woman. He shook himself and forced
his face to hide his anger. "We will take only ten men so we will
not frighten the good sisters."
"Ranald has a man from Kelso Abbey who tends
the gardens at the convent. Now Muriele is no longer there, he
still comes weekly. Likely, with Elyne there, he will challenge
your right to enter." Broccin rubbed his belly and burped. Wine
fumes wafted through the air.
"A monk willna keep me from bringing Elyne
out."
"So you think. This is no usual monk, no more
than Ranald was. A crusader who tired of killing. This Brother
Octavius can snap a man's neck with his hands and not break a
sweat," Broccin supplied.
"Then we shall make sure he never has the
opportunity to have his hands on us."
"'Twould be better if I give ye a missive
stating she is yer betrothed and Ranald agrees to the wedding. They
willna argue with his choice of husband for Elyne."
Graemme nodded.
Lady Joneta stood and got their attention.
"We will show you to your quarters. The men who came with you
before and your warriors will sleep in the men's tower. Graemme and
Magnus will take Ranald's bedchamber. Grunda can share a room with
me. Take time to refresh yourselves. Dinner will be at dusk." She
looked toward the window opening and sighed. "'Tis near upon
us."
"Ye will need yer rest, for ye may have a
small fight wresting Elyne from the convent," Grunda said.
"A
small
fight?" Graemme looked at
her and quirked his brow.
"Aye. She will not leave through the gate. Ye
and Sir Magnus must stand close to the castle walls and be
vigilant." She twisted her head to the side and looked him up and
down.
"Old woman, ye have studied every inch of me.
For what do ye search?"
"Are ye good at catching things hurtling
toward ye?"
"Aye. We played at tossing a blacksmith's
hammer when we were lads."
"This will be heavier than ye are used to.
Brace yerself when the time comes."
Grunda cackled with laughter as she left the
room.
Three days later, it was near dawn when
Gramme and the men rode across the clearing between the convent and
the surrounding forests. The entrance gate of the convent faced
east. With the sun rising behind the men, it flashed on someone
standing on the gateway battlements.
"Magnus? Is that a guard atop the left
gatehouse tower?"
Creases formed between Graemme's brows as he
squinted at the Convent of Mary Magdalen from atop his great
horse.
"Hm. If it is, he doesna have his hair
clipped and tonsured. Nor does he wear a robe with a cowl over his
head like most."
The sun rose a slight bit higher and seemed
to focus its strength on the person's head. Did he really see
auburn fire flashing off hair? He kicked his horse into a gallop.
On seeing the fear in Graemme's face, Magnus spurred his own mount.
The rest followed as quickly.
"By Lucifer's crossed eyes! She must be as
beetle-brained as a molding acorn," he shouted to his brother. "If
my eyes dinna deceive me, Elyne is standing on the edge of the
tower!"
"Slow to a walk when we draw near. We dinna
want to startle her," Magnus cautioned him.
"Ye are right. Half way there, he slowed his
horse to a walk and prayed his bride didn't panic when she saw
them. She seemed puzzled as she studied their approach. She might
not be able to see them clearly with the sun in her eyes, but they
sure as Hades could see her! She wore naught but a thin shift, her
form outlined by the first golden streaks of dawn.
They approached the gate slowly as Graemme
spoke to Magnus, his voice so furious the words near hissed between
his teeth.
"Am I so horrid to look upon that my bride
would try to kill herself rather than bear the burden of the
marriage bed with me?'
"Horrid? Not when ye have every woman at
Clibrick and Kinbrace after yer cock!"
"We must move beneath her, as close to the
wall as possible in case she falls."
"Aye. 'Tis a good plan."
"Keep close beside me in case I dinna get a
good grasp on her. The old seer was right. Elyne will be much
harder to catch than a blacksmith's hammer!" He looked over his
shoulder and called out, "Colyne, go to the gate and demand
entrance."
"I'll go too," Brian said. "Two fists are
better than one if the man is aged and hard of hearing."
Brian, with Squat snuggled in a sling around
his neck, looked up then followed Colyne. His face looked strained.
Seeing the worry in his friend's expression frightened Graemme even
more. The man was always full of laughter and never seemed to care
a whit about danger.
Squat recognized his mistress, for he started
barking and trying to get out of his makeshift carrier. He
scratched Brian's arms and whined until Brian took him from the
sling and leaned over in his saddle to place him safely on the
ground. The dog raced to the wall and barked up at his mistress,
most likely demanding she come pet him.
Graemme didn't dare take his eyes from
Elyne's face. She finally seemed to take in her surroundings with
more interest when she heard Squat barking. When Colyne and Brian
banged their fists on the gatehouse door and shouted for the
gatekeeper, her eyes opened wide. Graemme inched his horse even
closer and pulled to a stop directly beneath her. He dropped the
reins across his horse's neck, which signaled him to stand still.
Magnus moved his mount a small distance to the left of Graemme's.
If she fell and Graemme missed her, he would be in position to
catch her.
She had never been more beautiful. The sun
lighting her brown hair caused the fiery auburn to shine much like
torchlight. Her tall, slender body looked ripe for the taking.
Graemme and Magnus moved in their saddles, leaving only the tips of
their boots in the stirrups so they could stand with arms
outreached.
Graemme's broadsword was in the way and
bounced against his left leg. He reached up and drew it from its
holder. When he did, the sun seemed to turn it to a beacon. Flashes
of light streaked off it.
Elyne's intriguing brown eyes opened wide as
she gaped down at the men. Recognition finally shone there, as well
as horror. She forced her gaze from him long enough to look over
the men below as if searching for a familiar face. Probably Ranald.
He'd bet his horse on it! When she didn't see her brother, her eyes
filled with panic.
"Elyne, get back from the edge," he shouted
as the other men yelled at the slow gatekeeper. When she didn't
obey him, he shouted at her again. "Get back and listen to yer
husband," he yelled. He felt his face tighten in a scowl, a look
which told his men if they didn't instantly obey, they would be in
deep shite!
Never did he expect a scowl from him would
cause a woman to scream and totter, setting off a fearsome
event!
Elyne heard the sounds of mailed fists
pounding on solid wood and angry men shouting. And strangely, a dog
frantically barked and yipped. It wasn't the type of sounds she
would expect to hear in this quiet, prayerful community. Wind was
blowing her hair. Had she left her cell window open to the night
air before she went to sleep? It was cold. She reached for the thin
blanket but touched stone instead. Strange. Her cot was far from
the wall.
She blinked her eyes and realized she was
tottering on the edge of a crenelated wall, much as she had at
Raptor not many days afore. The stone she touched was still cold
from the night air. She heard someone shouting at her, but the sun
was in her eyes.
Taking her hand, she shielded her eyes. And
gasped. Below was a small army of knights. Why were they here? They
usually sought a place to sleep as night fell. The stiff wind
picked up and teased a standard until it lifted to fly upright.
God help her. The man-wolf had tracked her
down!
But now there were two of them. His brother.
Much alike, though a little older and even sterner. Her man-wolf
yelled again for her to move back. Back where? She wobbled. Afeared
to chance turning her head to see where she was, she hesitated.
Before she could decide what to do, he drew his heavy sword. Light
flashed and streaked from it. It seemed to seek her out, for it
reached her eyes.
Heaven help her. Her dream at Raptor had come
to life!
Horror filled her as she lost her balance.
Her hands flew out to grab onto stone, but they clawed empty
air.