Read The Renegade's Heart Online

Authors: Claire Delacroix

Tags: #paranormal romance, #scotland, #historical romance, #fantasy romance, #fae, #highlander, #faeries, #quest, #scottish romance, #medieval romance, #ravensmuir, #kinfairlie, #claire delacroix, #faerie queen, #highlander romance, #finvarra, #elphine queen

The Renegade's Heart (34 page)

BOOK: The Renegade's Heart
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“It began to snow, large flakes of snow that
were so unseasonable that I did not believe they could last for
long, much less impede my progress. By mid-afternoon, I realized
the storm was not abating as one might expect. The snow began to
accumulate upon the road and indeed, I lost sight of the track many
times, for there were no others taking that course on that day. I
thought I would take shelter at the first abode I found, for I had
coin to pay a soul to take in both me and my horses. I was certain
that I should find some place before it fell dark.”

He shook his head. “But there was none. There
was not a sign of life in that valley. There was only snow, snow
falling endlessly, snow hiding the peaks on either side and
obscuring the road underfoot. It gathered on my shoulders and
chilled my fingers. The hours passed, the snow became deeper and I
began to fear for my horses. We had need of shelter, but there was
none to be had. In that stretch of the valley, there was not so
much as a tree. It simply stretched on endlessly, barren of all but
snow and cold.

“I knew it was not so extensive a valley. I
knew I should have been home by early afternoon, but I rode
endlessly through the swirling snow. The sky darkened and there was
no sign of a light or a cottage on any side. The wind rose,
swirling around us and snatching at my garb. It was not long before
I acknowledged that I was well and truly lost. I feared that I had
strayed from the path and ridden in a circle. I dared not stop,
though, for it was so cold. I feared that if I should fall asleep,
I should never awaken.

“And that was when I saw the haven. At first,
I thought it could not be genuine. I had looked so long for refuge
that the blazing light seemed too good to be true. It did not
disappear, however, and indeed, the light grew brighter as I
approached it.”

“Just as the light to this cottage appeared,”
Isabella whispered.

Murdoch nodded. “Exactly thus. The horses
sensed some reprieve as well, for they were invigorated when I
urged them toward the light. I am not certain I could have halted
them, even if I had shown the wisdom to be skeptical.

“To my astonishment, the door that emitted
the glow of firelight seemed to be set into the very side of the
hill. It was my error to not pay attention to this detail, and I
ignored my initial reaction because I smelled food, felt warmth and
heard music. The portal was large and wide, like the gate to a
great castle. The haven was so welcome to me that I was over the
threshold before I gave pause to think. I rode directly through
that gate and was greeted most kindly. Stable hands appeared with
such speed that I was amazed, and if they seemed somewhat unusual
in appearance, I attributed this to my hunger and fatigue.

“I was led into a great hall, one from which
the music and the scent of food emanated. There was much merriment
in this place and the music was such that it lifted my heart. Even
better, my malaise retreated. My fever abated and my thoughts
became clear. The pain in my leg faded to nothing at all, and when
I looked, I saw that it was as healthy as ever it had been.” He
looked at Isabella. “I thought I dreamed, or that it was delusion
from the fever. The relief was so welcome that I did not wish to
awaken. In that glorious hall, I danced and I ate, and my cares
abandoned me.

“The wine was golden in that place. It tasted
of nectar and honey and every kind of spice. It was intoxicating
simply to sniff of a filled chalice. And there was such an
abundance of it that no one in that hall lacked for more. It was
potent, too, for I quickly became disoriented, forgetting myself in
the pleasure offered by the music and the wine.

“And so it was that I first faced the Elphine
Queen with the vigor of their wine flowing through my veins. I was
presented to her, for she was my hostess, but I did not comprehend
truly who she was.” Murdoch swallowed. “I saw only her ineffable
beauty. Her skin is flawless and fair, her hair like ebony silk
that flows to her very feet. She is slender and tall, her breasts
round and firm. She smiles as if she knows the secrets of the
world, and perhaps she does. She spoke to me, her voice beguiling
and melodious, and I was fool enough to look into the majesty of
her eyes. She welcomed me and then she kissed me full on the
lips.”

He fell silent then, less willing to recall
the next part.

Isabella placed her hand on his arm. “What
happened next?”

“I do not know. Perhaps I swooned. Perhaps I
might have thought it the wine. But I awakened naked and cold, my
ankles and wrists shackled to a wall of ice. My bonds were black
snakes, coiled around my wrists, and they bit me when I struggled
against them.” He rubbed his wrist then, unable to dismiss the
recollection. “My sole companion was a scribe, a dwarf who wrote a
tale upon my skin in indigo.”

“The marks,” Isabella guessed, and he looked
up to find her eyes wide.

Murdoch nodded. “He told me later, in one of
his rare talkative moments, that the marks would make me one of
theirs. And in truth, he had similar adornment upon his flesh. But
that first time, he did not speak. I fought against the biting
snakes and the prick of his tool, until suddenly the chamber was
filled with radiance. The Elphine Queen came to me then and kissed
my brow, and I was in the hall at her side once more. The music
played and the golden wine flowed.”

He swallowed and frowned. “I thought I had
had a nightmare, no more than that, perhaps because of the wine.”
He slanted a glance at a rapt Isabella. “But I had the same dream
over and over again in that place. Each time I thought I slept, I
awakened with the dwarf. Each time, the marks upon my flesh were
more extensive. Each time I was seemingly awakened from the
nightmare of that dungeon by the kiss of the Elphine Queen. Over
and over and over again.”

Murdoch swallowed. “And in those dreams of
the dwarf and the dungeon, the realm I visited was vastly different
from the one in which I danced so merrily. Its denizens lived in
darkness and rot, favoring the shadows and the cemeteries, the dark
places beneath stones. They ate of carrion and drank blood. They
were deceitful and devoid of emotion, knowing nothing of love or
affection or kindness. They sought only pleasure and amusement, no
matter the expense to another. I saw that they all had such marks
upon their flesh, and it was the dwarf who also told me that they
were not dead. He said they stood outside of time, subject neither
to birth or death. He told me that some are content with their
state, still others meddle in the affairs of mortals. Yet others
actively conspire against mortals, blaming us for their
situation.”

“But how did you escape?”

“I began to dread those nightmares and even
to become convinced that they were the truth of this realm. The
time came when the marks covered all of my flesh and the Elphine
Queen showed me favor in the hall. She led me to her bedchamber,
and a dread filled me. I begged her for my release, that I might
see my father and my home again. At first, she would not heed me,
but then I told her that I would trade any one thing to return to
Seton Manor.”

“She released you?”

“Evidently so.” Murdoch nodded, then slanted
a glance at Isabella. “I found myself in that same valley, my
steeds grazing by my side, the sides of the hills touched with
snow. The marks upon my flesh were gone. My horses looked exactly
as I recalled. Even my hair was the same length. I thought I had
dreamed the entire adventure. I thought the golden hall with its
wine and music and even its queen had been a dream that had come to
me while I slept out the storm.” He patted his leg. “Except that my
thigh was completely healed, just as it had been before I went to
France. That made me question the evidence before my eyes.”

Isabella’s eyes were round. “A miracle.”

“Or a debt.” Murdoch frowned. “I reached home
to discover that the war in France was over and that the king
returned to Scotland. I learned that it was not the spring of 1421.
It was January 2, 1424.”

“Just a few weeks ago!”

Murdoch nodded. “But all has changed at Seton
Manor. My father is dead and my brother blames me for the loss. He
is bitter, for he is a laird with no coin to his hand.”

“But that is not your fault!”

“In a way, it is. Indeed, it seems that there
is much laid at my door. After my departure, my father changed his
mind and chose to take my counsel. He attended the auction of
relics at Ravensmuir and emptied his treasury in order to acquire
the hand of the Magdalene.”

“That would have been when you were
journeying home,” Isabella mused.

Murdoch nodded. “And the relic was a boon to
Seton Manor. Several miracles were attributed to it and pilgrims
came, just as I had expected they would. The coffers were not
barren any longer, though my brother tells of my father blaming me
for not insisting upon the choice instead of riding to war.”

“All is clear once it is done.”

“Last spring, the Earl of Buchan spent a
night at Seton Manor. He thought to confirm my health and welfare,
given my unfortunate state when we parted. He is a good man and had
been greatly concerned for me – his duties in France had kept him
there since my departure. But that was when my father learned that
I had been so sorely injured. In three years, I had not returned.
They concluded that I must have died on the journey and though the
Earl gave his condolences, my father – according to Duncan – took
to his bed and died within a fortnight.”

“He feared he had lost you forever, and
because of his own refusal to listen to you.”

“My brother blames me now for my father’s
death, for clearly I was stubborn myself and refused to return
home.”

“But you did not!”

“But I cannot tell him of the Elphine Queen.”
Murdoch sighed. “Worse, the earl had a young knight pledged to his
service, name of Ross Lammergeier.”

“My brother.”

Murdoch nodded. “My father’s old prejudices
came to the fore during that visit, and I do not doubt that he made
some comment to which your brother took exception, for evidently
they exchanged heated words. It was not uncommon for my father to
do as much when he was in his cups.”

“But the relic disappeared that night,”
Isabella guessed.

Murdoch took her hand in his, even as he
grimaced. “Indeed, my brother discovered after the earl’s departure
that the hand of the Magdalene was gone. He and my father concluded
that this was my fault, for they had known the true nature of the
Lammergeier from the outset but I had swayed their judgment. The
loss was worse than the original situation, because of me. The
treasury was empty. The relic was gone. I was apparently dead, and
once again, there was no grain for tilling.”

“That was why you believed the relic to be at
Kinfairlie, because of Ross.”

“Because my brother sent word to the earl,
demanding reparation for the loss, and the earl admitted that Ross
had left his service abruptly.”

Isabella bit her lip. “I wonder if this was
the source of the argument Alexander had with Ross at the Yule. It
was Alexander who negotiated for Ross to serve the earl after he
left service at Inverfyre.”

“And so he might rightly be vexed by your
brother’s choice to abandon the earl’s household.” Murdoch nodded
understanding, then smiled at Isabella. “I develop a keen sympathy
for Alexander with so many willful siblings beneath his care.”

Isabella smiled. “Tell me more about Seton
Manor.”

“I returned home to a cold greeting. My
brother blamed me, not only for my father’s death but for the
expenditure of coin that left Seton Manor destitute when the relic
was stolen and for its current destitution. Instead of welcoming me
home, he turned me away at the door. He bade me repair what I had
done, speaking as bitterly as once my father had done.”

“And the Elphine Queen?”

“I thought she had released me, at least
until I reached home. I had only just abandoned my suspicion when I
was proven to be wrong. As Stewart greeted me, an unholy wind blew
down the valley, covering the trees with hoarfrost and setting snow
upon the road. I saw her, triumphant, and knew she had only
relinquished me for the moment. I learned later that she had taken
my heart as her due in exchange for my reprieve, and so ensnared it
that I could survive only one month. My choice was to return to her
or die, and likely still be claimed as her plaything.”

Isabella’s hand tightened on his. “It is not
much of a choice.”

Murdoch looked at Isabella, seeing the
empathy in her eyes. “I thought my course a true one, until she
haunted me in Kinfairlie’s forest. I thought I might lose my wits
before the month was ended.” He smiled at Isabella. “I did not
count upon a curious maiden. ” He lifted her hand and kissed her
palm, closing her fingers over his embrace. “I hope you do not pay
too high a price for your faith in me, my Isabella.”

“I will not,” she said with a conviction he
did not share. She knelt beside him and reached for his shoulders.
“There is no price that can make me regret this,” she vowed softly,
then kissed him.

He might have succumbed to her allure once
again, but there was a severe knock upon the door.

 

* * *

 

Isabella might not have answered the summons
at the door, but Murdoch did not hesitate. In the blink of an eye,
he had risen to his feet and left her side, striding across the
cottage with a vigor that recalled her first sight of him in
Kinfairlie’s bailey. He hauled open the door, then laughed
aloud.

“Master Smith!”

Isabella hastened to his side, seeing that it
was indeed the smith from Kinfairlie village. There was snow on his
hood and his shoulders, and he stamped his feet against the cold.
His breath came in white puffs and Isabella saw that the fields
were covered with a fresh blanket of snow.

BOOK: The Renegade's Heart
5.94Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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