Dragon Knight's Ring (Order of the Dragon Knights Book 5) (8 page)

Meggie coughed in her hand to hide the smile forming on her lips. Moving to the basin, she picked up a bar of soap and handed it to him. “This will help to clean some of the
muck
off your hands. Yet, I suggest ye fill the tub and clean all of your body.” The heat crept up her neck and onto her face, and she turned from his intense gaze. “I’ll go find ye some clean clothes.”

When she got to the door, Meggie paused as he called her name.

“Thank ye for your kindness,” he stated softly.

She smiled and nodded. “You’re welcome, Adam.” Closing the door, she leaned against the wall for support. “Who are ye Adam MacFhearguis? Oh, what ye do to me,” she whispered. Shoving aside all thoughts of the man, Meggie climbed the steps up to the second level. Bypassing Lucas’s bedroom, she knew of only one other who would have the same build as Adam—her other cousin, Scott. “Ye won’t be returning for a few more days, so it will not matter,” she muttered.

Entering, she quickly went to the closet and scanned the selection. Pulling out a pair of dark jeans and black T-shirt, she prayed they would fit the man. Seeing one of many black leather jackets Scott owned, she pulled one off the hanger. Glancing down, Meggie spied a pair of new boots. “Forgive me, Scott. I ken ye love your boots.” Snatching them up, she went to his dresser. Her fingers hesitated. “Argh! I’m going through your personal items.” Opening the drawer, she grabbed a pair of socks and then frowned when she couldn’t find one pair of boxers or briefs. “Lugh’s balls! Ye go without, Scott?” She giggled and closed all the drawers.

Quietly closing the door on her cousin’s bedroom, Meggie went back downstairs and left the clothes in Adam’s room. As she stepped outside of his room, she could hear his boisterous laughter, and she longed to find out what caused the outburst. Her mind screamed to turn around and leave the place, but curiosity had always been her companion. Her steps slowed as she approached the bathroom door. She could hear him muttering in Gaelic, laughing, and now singing—all while the water was running.

“The man is clearly demented,” she concluded.

Suddenly he stopped. Yet, the water was still flowing, and Meggie could tell that not only were the sink faucets on, but also the ones on the tub.
Did ye drown?
Curiosity soon turned to concern. She placed her ear against the door trying to hear anything—his voice, splashing, something to indicate he was well. As the minutes ticked by, Meggie rubbed her head. “Bloody man! Serves ye right if ye drown with all the water ye are using,” she hissed out. She paced within the corridor, unsure of what she should do. “Or worse, ye will flood the place.”

Deeming too many minutes had passed, Meggie carefully opened the door and peered around the edge. The sight before her caught her unaware, and she stifled a gasp as she walked into the bathroom. Adam MacFhearguis lay sprawled out in the tub of running water with his head resting comfortably on the edge. Both legs dangled over the edges, along with his arms—a specimen of pure erotic male. He had a look of contentment across his features, one she’d seen so many times on someone else. She frowned in confusion, trying to remember who it was.

She found it hard to breathe, the room stifling from the heat, and she tugged at her sweater. “Nae,” she mumbled. “Nae,” she uttered with more conviction.

Adam opened his eyes and turned to look at her. Her heart stopped for a brief moment, and the room swam before her. His gaze of desire pierced her soul, touching her mind and body. Beads of water rolled down his chest, and she fought the overwhelming urge to trail the path with her finger.

Muttering her apologies, she stumbled backward out of the bathroom and slammed the door.

Running as fast as she could, Meggie bolted into the stables and yanked open the gate to her horse’s stall. Embracing the animal, she quickly mounted and took off toward the hills.

The wind whipped at her hair, and she tugged loose the ribbon holding it together, tossing it into the air. Holding onto Fion’s mane, she gave the horse free rein to go wherever she wished. Meggie had no care—she wanted to be free of Aonach. Free from the man who left her senses reeling and confused.

What was wrong with her? She should have never asked him to stay. She gritted her teeth, angry with herself for feeling foolish. “I’m not a swooning lass to be toyed with,” she shouted to the wind. “Mayhap the man did me harm the one and only time he claimed to have met me!” Tears blurred her vision, but she kept Fion at a steady pace.

Onward they traveled, the crisp, cool air filling her lungs and soothing her soul. The music of the land beckoned her as they climbed higher into the hills. She longed to go visit the oaks—her special place, but they were several days away, so she set her sight on the evergreens near a cave. Peace and solitude clawed at her, and the closer they got to the trees, the more her mind settled.

Slowing Fion to a light cantor, Meggie arrived close to the entrance and dismounted near the tallest pine tree.

Breathing heavily, she walked forward and leaned her head against the majestic tree. “Help me, Fae. I’m lost once again—disoriented, confused by this man, Adam MacFhearguis.” She lifted her head, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her sweater. Turning around, Meggie lifted her arms high. “Tell me who this man is. Should I trust him? Will he show me the past so I can move forward into the future? I may have begged once for ye to return my lost memories, and ye asked me to be patient. I cannae find solace without the knowledge of this man. Hear my plea, Fae. Tell me what to do with this medieval male.”

Emotions swirled around Meggie, embracing her in warmth and love, and she slumped to the ground. Colors danced before her eyes, rich in the hues of the rainbows. Then she heard the faint whisper of many speak within her mind.

“
You must walk the path of destiny or all will vanish into the mists of time. Across time and space, your destiny awaits. To right a wrong between two lost souls. Beneath the gate, you shall wait, until the test of fate is complete. Two shall hold the key to mend the broken circle. Then, and only then will you find your peace. Have faith. Have hope. Believe in love, Margaret Aine MacKay.”

“We, the Fae, will always be with you.”

Chapter Seven

“When the knight reached the top of the mountain, he relinquished his weapons and made a leap of faith into peace.”

Adam grumbled a curse. Holding up the odd-looking trews, he frowned at the metal teeth in the center where this would cover a verra important part on his body. How did one fasten such a piece of clothing? Glancing down at his cock, he deemed the material would barely cover half of him. Apparently, men in this century were indeed much smaller. Did Meggie seriously expect him to stuff his male parts next to the sharp claws? He tossed the garment down in disgust and pulled on his trews.

Grabbing the boots she left for him, he rubbed his hand over the leather stitching, marveling at the work. Three silver medallions etched with Celtic spirals were sewn down the outside. Slipping them on, Adam stood and walked to one end of the room and back. He barked out with laughter. “’Tis a wonder, though heavy. I thank ye, Meggie.”

Smiling, he slipped on the jacket and then took a glance at himself in the mirror. “What will ye think of me now, Meggie?” The hardened warrior stared back through the glass, and he gave the man a nod. Slipping his dirk into place at his waist, he then fastened his
sgian dubh
inside his boot.

Before he left, Adam went and retrieved the only possession he valued beside the cross he wore around his neck—Meggie’s ring. Pulling it out of his leather pouch, he held it to the light streaming in through the windows. “One day ye will be my Meggie again, and I shall place this ring on your finger, where it belongs.” Slipping the ring back within the bag, he shoved it under his pillow on the bed.

As he made his way downstairs, he paused near the entrance of the Great Hall. The crest of the Dragon Knights hung above the entrance. In the center was the Great Dragon and around her were the relics—sword, medallion, axe, and shield. His brother’s words came back to torment him. He refused to believe he was one of them. He wanted no part of the wretched Order. Adam gritted his teeth, shoving the memories of Meggie’s brothers aside. “Ye are all dead now. May your bones rot in Hell,” he muttered.

“They are not in Hell,” stated a low voice from behind Adam.

Turning swiftly, Adam recognized the man from the window he spied earlier. “Ye would ken this how?”

The man moved past him and opened the doors to the Great Hall. Sweeping out his arm, he said, “The Dragon Knights were all honorable upon their deaths. They passed into the realm of eternal youth—
Tir na Og
.”

Stepping inside the hall, Adam gazed at the tapestries hanging on both sides of the wall. There was one for each brother.

“Several years ago, we found Duncan MacKay’s tapestry.” The man chuckled. “It was buried with the founding stone near the hearth.”

Adam clenched his fists. Walking over to Duncan’s tapestry, he could make out all the man’s features. In his hand, he held the verra sword that killed Meggie, and Adam wanted to tear it down and toss the bloody material into the blazing hearth. The storms swirled around the man as if he were directing the tempest. Quickly averting his eyes, he glanced back at the man. “Founding stone?”

“Aye. The one taken from the first home of the MacKay Dragon Knights. Urquhart Castle.” The man moved closer and clasped his hands behind his back, staring at the images.

“Ye should have left it buried,” said Adam in a harsh, bitter voice. “Why are they here? And who are ye?”

The man unclasped his hands and moved away from the wall. “My apologies. I’m Archibald McKibben—a guest here at Castle Aonach, when I’m not teaching at the University in Glasgow. My friends call me Archie.”

Adam looked down at his outstretched hand. He had no need to embrace the older man as friend. Was he kin to the others? Furthermore, the man seemed to worship the Dragon Knights, and he longed to tell him the correct account of the MacKays. None of which was an honorable tale.

The man arched a brow as if he heard Adam’s thoughts. Clasping his hands once again behind his back, he replied, “Urquhart Castle was destroyed hundreds of years ago. It’s nothing but ruins, though they say ghosts of the past still whisper among the stones. The founding stone was brought over before the destruction.”

Archie moved toward the hearth. “We never knew exactly where it was placed until Lena found an old scroll in the library. It held the signatures of all four MacKay brothers—Angus, Duncan, Stephen, and Alastair.” He tapped a booted foot on a large stone near the center of the hearth. “It was here all these centuries.”

Adam shifted his stance. “Is there a purpose for giving me this account? I grow tired of hearing all the glories of the MacKays.”

“Your reaction puzzles me. Have you heard of another story? And may I inquire to your name?”

Aye! Ye should hear the one where they tried to kill me.
“’Tis Adam MacFhearguis.”

“Yes. I should have guessed. You’re the one who passed out on the front steps. Could they not have provided you with some jeans?”

“Are ye suggesting I wear the trews with claws? They dinnae fit properly.” Adam turned to leave, frustrated with the man’s words and wanting to turn away from the gazes on the wall of ghosts from long ago. He had only taken a few steps when Archie’s words made him halt his stride.

“Have you traveled to find out about your ancestors who dwelled near the MacKays of Urquhart? The MacFhearguis clan no longer resides in these parts. They live mainly in the south west.” Archie moved past him to the entrance. “However, I’m telling you facts you already know, aye?”

Adam’s mind reeled. Not once did he think of his brothers—their land.
His land.
What happened to them? Why would they abandon their home? Hundreds of years had passed most likely bringing wars, death, and leaving no heirs. Did they fade away? “I would like to ken why the MacFhearguis clan would leave Castle Leomhann?”

“For the same reasons any clan flees. Their homes are destroyed, and they re-build elsewhere.”

Baffled, Adam fought to control the outrage. How could Leomhann be gone? Did not his grandfather speak of the place lasting forever?

“Would you care to join me in the library? I’m sure I can locate a book on the MacFhearguis clan,” suggested Archie.

“Aye,” Adam stated slowly, snapping out of his thoughts.

As Archie led him down the long hallway where it curved sharply to the right leading into another corridor, Adam glanced at more tapestries hanging on the wall—a sense of history reflected in each, and he felt the eyes of all the MacKays’ descendants.

“Here we are,” remarked Archie as he opened wide the two doors to the library.

Stopping abruptly, Adam took in the massive size of the room. Never before had he seen a display of so many books. “These are all yours?” he blurted out.

Smiling, the other man picked up a pair of glasses. “They belong to the MacKays. I am merely a guest. Feel free to browse, while I search for a book on your ancestors.”

Slowly walking into the room, Adam looked in all directions. “Are there no scrolls?” He picked up a book off a nearby table, fingering its smooth cover. A picture of a man and woman adorned the cover, the clothing familiar to him.

“Most definitely. However, we keep those in a cooler room for preservation.”

Strolling casually near the walls of books, Adam was fascinated by all the different colors. He did not understand the man’s meaning regarding the scrolls. There was much he could not fathom about this time.

“Ahh…I see you’ve found a favorite of Meggie’s.” Archie pointed to the book in Adam’s hand.

Curious, Adam asked, “What is it about?”

“Have you not heard the tale of Tristan and Isolde?”

Shaking his head, Adam glanced inside at the strange markings and words. He did not ken their meaning, for they were not in a language he could read. “’Tis a wonder—the binding.”

Archie waved him over to a chair. “The one you hold is a rare copy, but Meggie prefers this one version over the others.”