Dragon Knight's Sword (6 page)

Hiking back upstairs, sword across her shoulder, she went back to her room and wrote Lisa a long letter, explaining everything.

Brigid checked her computer again for any messages and was relieved to see one from Archie. He told her not to worry, since he would check in on Lisa. In addition, he was contacting a friend in Glasgow to help her with transportation and a place to stay. He wished her a safe journey, and if not for the fact he had classes, he would have accompanied her himself. In addition, he said that his friend could be trusted for anything she required.

“Bless you, Archie—you always know what I need.”

She included this last bit of information in her letter to Lisa, stating she would be returning in a week’s time. Folding the letter, she placed it on the office desk they shared.

“Love you, Lisa,” she whispered.

Grabbing her coat and suitcase, Brigid took one last look at the store and walked out onto a path she was uncertain of, but fully prepared to face.

Chapter 6

“Who is stronger? The warrior with his sword, or the fair maiden who holds his heart?”

Duncan stood on the parapet, hands braced along the wall, watching the stars fading fast as the first rays of dawn touched down upon the land. He was always fascinated by the shifting of night into morning, where if one were ever observant you would be able to view both at the same time. Somewhere in that brief moment of suspended time, he allowed himself to believe hope was possible.

Perhaps Cormac was correct. He should try to reunite with his brothers and mend their broken family. Yet, as he clenched his fists, he knew in his heart they would never truly be whole again.

“Och, not in this life.” Taking his hands and running them across stubble and worn face, knowing he had to do something.

He believed in the old ways, and taking a deep sigh, realizing how long he had not asked, Duncan said a reverent prayer to the gods to guide him to the Old One. Perhaps there, he would find the answers for not only himself, but for his brothers as well. The night stars had vanished, and the glow of the morning dawn now shimmered across the land.

Duncan turned from the wall and went to prepare for the journey ahead.

****

“Can I not go with ye?” Finn asked, feeding an apple to Brandubh.

Cormac was tending to his horse and the supplies. “Nae Finn, and if I were ye, I would not have Duncan find ye feeding his horse again.”

“But he likes them.”

“Aye, he does.” Cormac chuckled to himself, noticing Duncan striding toward them.

“Ahem...Finn,” and with a nod to the lad, Cormac indicated that Duncan was approaching with his ever present scowl etched across his face.

Finn’s raised his in time to see Duncan, and he attempted to scamper away. Duncan grabbed the back of his tunic, almost lifting him off his feet.

“I’ll take those apples from ye, Finn, and if I find ye are giving any to Brandubh, I’ll tan your hide.”

“Och, Duncan, leave the young’un alone.” Matilda came out to the bailey just in time to see Duncan towering over Finn. She walked toward them, placing her hand on Finn’s shoulder. “Finn, go fetch my basket. I’m off to gather herbs for Moira. She’s making curded beef soup, and I ken how much you favor it.”

Finn scooted past Duncan, making sure not to make eye contact with him.

Duncan tossed his satchel across Brandubh and mounted his horse while adjusting his sword. Grabbing the reins, he ran a gloved hand over Brandubh’s head. With a curt nod at Matilda, he took off toward the gate. Cormac soon followed closely behind them.

Matilda crossed her arms around herself, feeling a cold shiver pass through her. Tilting her head up toward the sky, she suspected the weather would not give them any burden today. However, on the horizon there was a tempest brewing, and she feared Duncan was standing on a precipice—one which could send his soul to oblivion.

“Oh Mother Danu,” she whispered. “Hear my prayer for Duncan.” As she gazed upon his leaving, she spoke a blessing of protection, tears glistening in her eyes.

“Power of the Raven be yours. Power of the Eagle be yours. Power of the Fianna to guard ye on your journey,” and with a thought of the One God, she added, “and the Power of Michael and his shield to protect ye.”

Wrapping her shawl more tightly across her shoulders, she turned to go find Finn, believing she had done all she could.

Duncan’s journey was now beginning.

****

They had been traveling several hours, with only the sounds of the forest and their horses. Both men quiet in their own thoughts.

Though the morning was crisp, the sun was a welcoming light and a balm for Duncan. Most days, he preferred the wind and rain, but this morning he was grateful for the sun and its warmth. He tilted his head back, eyes closed, and breathed in heavily. The battle still raged inside him, yet somehow a spark of something he could not recognize flared within. Could Matilda be correct? She spoke of peace, but he realized it was impossible. The only hope he could bring himself to accept was to undo the curse for not himself, but for his brothers.

He had meant to ask Matilda if she had any news of his brothers, but feared it would only add more to his burden, which was already too heavy for any ordinary man to carry, and he was not ordinary.

No, Duncan understood that he and his brothers had the blood of the fae. They were not immortal. Nevertheless, each one was gifted with a certain power tied to the elements. When the Guardian had stripped them of their relics and the responsibility of guarding the last dragon, he thought their powers would be taken as well. Yet, being blood bound to the fae, could not strip out their heritage.

Not even the Guardian could.

Duncan found that his power was now a curse. He could control the winds and storms, but when his mood altered, he could not control what would happen to the skies. After the battle and death of Meggie, he had let his emotions dominate his powers. For many months afterward, storms raged. Why Cormac never asked him to leave was a question that still haunted him.

A falcon’s cry drew him from his thoughts, as Cormac rode up alongside him.

Cormac narrowed his eyes. “This one has been following us for some time.”

Duncan drew up the reins for Brandubh to halt, and looked up at the falcon. “
She
has been watching me these past few months. If my instincts are sound, she will lead us to the druid.”

“Instincts? Meaning your
fae
instincts?”

“For the moment, aye.”

“I think it is best we keep her in our sight.” Cormac stated, shifting on his horse to get a better view.

Duncan was still gazing at the falcon when he spoke, “Nae, she will keep
us
in her sight and guide us if we falter from the path. I believe she is guiding us to the druid and will warn us of danger. It is wise to keep moving.” Duncan watched her for a few more moments, then gave a nudge to Brandubh to move on.

“Och, ye would have to mention danger, or are ye just itching for a fight, Duncan?” he muttered aloud more to himself, and urged his horse onward.

****

Deep in the forest—MacFhearguis land

The fire blazed hot and fierce—flames snapping like claws, reaching for him. Bones and blood scattered around the forest floor, the smell, and taste of the kill flowing through his body. This carnage was necessary; for he sensed the shift of power at dawn’s first light, an uneasiness settling within.

If anyone ventured onto the site, it would sicken them and they would destroy him.

Yet, it had to be done. He had to
know
—had to see it for himself. Only then would he learn through his visions the truth.

The pain was like a knife, blinding him. He roared and fell to the ground holding his head. “Yes,” he rasped out. “Let me see.” Half images flooded him and the searing pain had him gasping for breath. He was near to passing out, when all the other images disappeared, and only one remained.

“Duncan Mackay,” he snarled, licking the blood from his lips. The first Mackay had set forth on his quest.

“By all the gods and goddesses, ye shall fail, or die on your journey!” His hands dug into the dirt and leaves, waiting for the pain to ease. Slowly, he stood on shaky limbs, needing the support of his staff, his face a mask of rage.

The druid named Lachlan turned and grasped the severed head of the serving girl he had killed, tossing it into the fire.

Chapter 7

“When the worlds of fae and human are open, the reflection of love shimmers like a rainbow.”

The sun’s fading light and warmth were ebbing quickly on the horizon, and Duncan sought shelter among the trees for the night. Choosing a large oak tree with dense foliage, Duncan dismounted and led Brandubh to the other side of the tree. In the distance he could hear water flowing, which meant fresh water for the horses and themselves.

After they tended to their horses, Cormac pulled out some oatcakes, dried meat, and hard cheese. Both men not weary, apprehension filled their minds and bodies. Cormac was the first to speak.

“What will ye gain from the druid?” he asked while chewing on his dried meat.

Duncan sat silent, no emotion showing on his face. What could he say? Did he truly know what he would ask of the druid? He was so sure of his path yesterday morn. Yet the moment he had stepped outside of the castle, his purpose had become clouded. With a sigh, he stood, and fisted his hands on his hips, looking up at the night sky.

“Did ye ken the fae descended from the stars, Cormac? What a sight it must have been.” Duncan shook his head as he walked over to the oak tree, leaning his shoulder against it, more for comfort than support.

“It was a night such as this, a brisk chill in the air, stars shining like glass, and Meggie was still alive.” When he looked at Cormac, his eyes shone brightly. “She was so full of light and love. We wondered how one could live among brothers whose moods darkened as sure as the sun rose each morn. She said it was her mission to bring laughter to such morose men.”

“What happened?” Cormac asked.

Duncan turned from his friend and stood with his back to him. He had not spoken of that night until now. He could not bring himself to look at Cormac whilst telling the tale.

“Angus and I were going over plans for the east tower, and Stephen was with his scrolls.” Duncan could see every detail of that night. It lived within his thoughts constantly.

“Alastair was off with one of his latest wenches, deep in his cups, when Hamish came running in shouting that Meggie had left with her horse. We all thought him a bit daft at the time, since Meggie was always with the horses, until he said she was meeting Adam MacFhearguis, and they were going to be handfasted. He had heard her talking to her horse and singing.

“Angus stood so fast the pitcher of mead spilled everywhere. As he spoke, he kept a firm grip on my shoulder to let me know that I should not leave. He told Hamish not to tell the others, saying he would handle it. He did not want bloodshed if possible, and cast his eyes at me when he spoke this. Angus then told him to have Tiernan prepare his horse.

“When Angus left the hall, I went for my sword and stormed out, taking off on Brandubh. My rage was so great, the skies started to darken. I had no control.” Duncan drew his hand through his hair, his nostrils flaring.

“There was only one place where Meggie would take him to handfast, and that would be to the sacred stones. By the time I reached them, the storm was fast closing in.” He closed his eyes recalling the smell of that night—lightning flashing the night sky, and thunder so fierce, it shook the ground.

Duncan clasped his hands behind his back, slowly turning toward Cormac. “There they were in the middle, wee Meggie with our sworn enemy. All I could think of was blood and rage, and it was all for the MacFhearguis.

“Adam saw me first, and seeing my fury ran to put himself in front of Meggie. It was all my madness needed. I saw him as the enemy, and Meggie needed saving. By the time our swords clashed, the storm was upon us. I heard Meggie screaming and calling out to Angus to stop. I did not see that my brothers were there, swords drawn.

“The ground was muddy and I continued to battle the MacFhearguis and then my brothers.” Duncan pounded his fist against the tree. “I did not see her coming.”

“She stepped in front of Adam?” whispered Cormac.

“Aye,” Duncan nodded.

“The fool lass had her arms outstretched calling my name, and I drove my sword into her.”

Duncan dropped down against the tree, head in his hands. When he spoke, there was bitterness in his words. “Ye asked me why I seek out the druid.” His hands clenched. “It was with magic we were all cursed, and it will be magic that will unbind us. In truth, for my brothers, my soul is already damned, and I cannot undo what has happened.”

Cormac then sighed, “So your plan is to sacrifice your life, using magic for redemption of your brothers.”

When Duncan lifted his head, his eyes were cold shards of glass, gleaming in the night.

“Aye.”

Chapter 8

“They say that Ireland and Scotland were once joined, until a dragon’s tail smashed onto the land and separated them in two.”

If anyone had told her a week ago she would be standing on Scottish soil, Brigid would have laughed in their face.

Yet, here she was.

The long flight and layover in Chicago did not dim her enthusiasm in the least. She felt like shouting for joy and tried to keep her eyes from tearing, lest others would think her some crazed American.

Thank goodness, Archie had contacted officials not only in the States, but also in Scotland alerting them that she was entrusted with an ancient artifact. He had faxed the appropriate paperwork and officials even had a copy of her passport. How he managed to know the proper contacts
and
to do it so quickly, was still a mystery to her.

Deeply breathing in the cool, crisp Scottish air, she closed her eyes and uttered a quick prayer of thanks for her safe journey here. Hugging the sword in its leather pouch more closely to her body, she opened her eyes and looked about.