My Lady Mage: A Warriors of the Mist Novel (34 page)

When the world slowly righted itself, he kissed her, gently this time. She encircled his neck with her arms, their legs still tangled, their bodies joined, and their hearts pounding hard.

He’d never given way to such desperation with a woman and had to ask, “Did I hurt you?”

Her smile warmed his heart and soothed away his worry even as she brushed his hair back from his face. “I’m fine, but I think you mentioned something about needing to hurry.”

She was right even if he hated it. He rolled to the side and reached for Merewen’s clothes. “This wasn’t the smartest thing we could have done, love, but I can’t find it within me to regret it.”

“Nor I. But as you said, we should go. I’d hate for anyone else to worry enough to come looking for us, especially right now.”

She eyed his still-unfastened ties with an impish smile. If Kane or one of the others had taken it upon themselves to come help him search, he’d never live this down. He quickly righted his clothes and then gave Merewen the boost back up into her saddle that he’d promised earlier.

She waited until he caught Kestrel and swung up into the saddle. Then as one, they set off for the keep at a slow gallop. The sun now hovered a short distance above the horizon, but with luck they’d reach the gates before dark.

The thought of night’s approach had him urging Kestrel into a faster pace. Just as Gideon and his men were at their strongest under the cover of darkness, that was likely also true of the evil approaching. It wouldn’t do to be caught out on the plains once the sun set.

If Merewen wondered about his rush, she didn’t ask. But one look at the worry on her face, and he knew she was feeling the same way. With a heartfelt prayer to the gods for her safety, he rode with one eye on the horizon and a hand on his sword.

F
agan’s men rode clustered close to him. He’d like to think it was out of personal loyalty, but he knew better. In truth, none of them, not even he himself, felt comfortable around the men who rode in formation behind them.

Besides the unavoidable creak of saddle leather and the occasional snort from one of the horses, thirty of Duke Keirthan’s men rode in absolute silence. Another thirty were infantry, marching behind the mounted troops. They had been walking for hours without a single one complaining about the torturous pace set by their captain.

In fact, as far as Fagan could tell, not one of them had said a single word since leaving the city of Agathia two days ago. They set up camp in silence, ate in silence, patrolled in silence. It was eerie and off-putting to say the least.

The only one who spoke at all was their leader, Captain Terrick, whom Keirthan had put in charge. In as few words as possible, the man announced when everyone should mount up, when they should make camp, and when they should pack up and leave the next morning. Fagan wondered if they even slept, but he’d been too afraid to actually stick his head out of his tent at night to check.

No doubt they would fight on command, but what had Keirthan done to them? It was as if they had been
stripped of all but the most basic of functions. Their pale faces lacked all expression, the only sign of life their relentless walking and breathing. He tore his gaze away from the unsettling sight.

For the moment, all Fagan could do was ride and think about the upcoming battle. He had no desire to lead the charge. True, he had a well-deserved reputation with a sword. That didn’t mean he relished putting his own life on the line. However, he couldn’t avoid being embroiled in the upcoming fight, not without being seen as weak and a coward. Even if his own men could forgive such behavior, which was by no means a given, the duke’s troops would report him to their master.

Keirthan had little use for anyone unwilling to sacrifice everything to further his cause. Keirthan’s cause. Right now, all Fagan longed to do was regain control of his family home—and his niece.

While Fagan wasn’t willing to offer up any more of his own blood to the duke, he would cheerfully lash Merewen to the back of a horse and drag her back to the capital city—anything to deflect Keirthan’s attention away from Fagan himself. He’d even take Alina along to keep his niece company as the two of them faced whatever plans Keirthan had for them.

After Merewen’s betrayal, if Fagan never saw either of the two women again, that was fine with him. Then he’d round up all the horses and sell them to the highest bidder. He’d already learned that even the strongest fences couldn’t hold that cursed black stallion and his mares.

But before any of that could happen, he had to survive the upcoming fight. He’d already suggested to Captain Terrick that they rest for the night and attack at first light when the guards on the palisade were more likely to be tired and slow to respond. Besides, fighting at night made it that much harder to tell friend from foe.

However, Captain Terrick was adamant the battle be fought under the cover of darkness—the duke’s orders, or so he’d claimed.

So despite having been on the move since just after dawn, leaving both the men and horses tired and hungry, they were to form up to attack as soon as they got within sight of the keep. It was insanity, but Fagan had no choice but to go along with the plan.

For now, he shoved all thought of the fight out of his head and concentrated on what lovely punishments he could devise for his wife when he dragged her to his bed one last time. His body stirred at the thought—not the most comfortable way to ride, but even that was better than dwelling on things he’d rather not think about.

Like his chances of surviving the night.

Murdoch had been pacing the great hall for the past hour. It was getting to be late in the day with no sign of either Gideon or his lady. Something had to be done.

He headed up the stairs to find Duncan, who had once again buried himself in the library. Without bothering to knock, Murdoch barged in. To his surprise, Kane and Averel were also there.

“Duncan, send Kiva out to check on Gideon. He and Lady Merewen have yet to return.”

Duncan didn’t hesitate. “Of course, but this room lacks a window. Perhaps Lady Alina wouldn’t mind if I used hers.”

Murdoch blocked the way. “Give the bird his marching orders, and I’ll send him aloft. You have enough to do to get ready to leave.”

Which did not include a visit to Lady Alina’s private quarters across the hall. Duncan gave him a considering look, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he rested his hand on his avatar’s head and communicated what they needed Kiva to do.

When he was finished, Murdoch offered his arm to the huge owl and carried him out of the library and toward Alina’s door, cursing himself for a fool three times over. Not only was he once again putting himself within temptation’s reach, but he’d only confirmed his friends’ suspicions about his feelings for the lady.

He knocked at her door, hoping her maid would be the one to answer. But no, the gods seemed to be conspiring to throw the two of them together. Alina cracked open the door to peek out. As soon as she spotted Kiva, her face lit up with a smile.

“Is this another guest for me?”

The owl nibbled gently at her fingers as she reached out to stroke his chest feathers with the back of her hand. “He’s a handsome fellow.”

Watching the sensuous pleasure she took in petting the bird had Murdoch picturing all too clearly what it would be like to have those same hands caressing him. The effect on his body was both predictable and painful in its intensity. When he abruptly shifted to ease the pressure, Alina jerked back out of reach and flung her arms up to protect her face.

The sudden movement startled Kiva, who flapped his wings in protest. Murdoch muttered a curse and pushed his way into the room to fling the damned owl out the window.

When Kiva was safely winging his way out into the gathering darkness, Murdoch eased closer to where Alina now stood, her hands covering her face.

“Alina, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you again.”

Her shoulders shook as she fought to hide her tears from him. It broke his heart to see her in such pain. What could he say to make things better? Nothing came to mind, but then he’d never been a man of words, only of actions.

He did the only thing he could think of. He wrapped
her in his arms and held on tight while she cried herself out.

Finally, she sniffed a few times and raised her tearstained face up to look at him. “It is I who need to apologize. I overreacted. You would never be so cruel. Not like Fagan, and I know that. I’m so sorry.”

He caught her chin with a crooked finger. “You have nothing to apologize for. All you need do is remember that bastard will never lay a hand on you again.”

At his touch, her eyes widened, framed by long, damp lashes as she stared at his mouth for the longest time. Then she raised herself up just far enough so that their breath mingled, their lips separated only by his conscience. He wanted her so badly, but he would not take advantage of her in this moment of weakness.

But neither would he let her think he was rejecting her. He let his hands drop to her waist and took a step back. Her disappointment quickly turned to embarrassment. When she tried to turn away, he stopped her.

“Alina, I would promise you something else. When the day comes that you are free of your marriage vows, if you desire me, then nothing short of the gods themselves will keep me away.”

He touched her cheek with his fingertips. “Understand?” When she nodded, he added, “Now, I should to get back to work.”

She gave him a soft shove. “Go. I’ll be fine.”

Before he reached the door, she called his name one last time. “Murdoch?”

He glanced back. “Yes?”

Her eyes flickered toward the curtained bed in the corner and then back to him. “Thank you for your patience with me.”

“You are most welcome, my lady.”

Then he executed a bow that would’ve done Duncan proud and softly closed the door on his way out. He
managed to make it all the way back to the library without tripping over his feet. Even more important, he succeeded in wiping the big smile off his face before rejoining his friends.

An hour later, all four men had lapsed into silence, watching the soft shadows cast by the candles dancing on the walls. The entire meal had been subdued as everyone awaited the return of the captain and Merewen. If they didn’t arrive soon, Murdoch would have little choice but to send out search parties, especially if Kiva didn’t return.

Duncan had started to pour himself another drink of wine when he dropped the pitcher and grabbed his head with both hands.

“Kiva! Quieter. Hurting me.”

The grimace on the scholar’s face gradually eased, but his eyes were still wide with horror. What was that damned owl showing him?

Kane moved to catch Duncan when the warrior suddenly slumped. The owl had obviously released his mind, but the connection had left Duncan struggling to talk.

Finally, he looked around as if having to reacquaint himself with his surroundings.

“Gideon and Merewen are approaching, but so is an armed force coming from the direction of the capital city. It has to be Fagan returning with reinforcements.”

He drew a ragged breath. “From what I could see, it’s unlikely the captain is aware of the other riders. If he and Merewen don’t hurry, they’ll ride right into them.”

Murdoch stood up. “I’ll sound the alarm and send the guards up to the walkway armed and ready to fight.”

As they all headed for the door, he started issuing orders. “Averel, tell Lady Alina that she and the cook need to prepare for possible wounded. Duncan, send
Kiva back out to warn the captain. Kane, you and Hob ride out to meet them. Between the two of you, you should be able to fight your way through to the gate if necessary.”

Kane caught the younger knight by the arm before he left. “Averel, be waiting to open the gate when we return. There’s a good chance we’ll be only seconds ahead of pursuit. We’ll need to get in quickly.”

With that, they all went their separate ways. Murdoch waited by the gate as Kane and Hob prepared to ride out. As he looked around to make sure everyone was doing as they’d been told, he spotted Alina heading straight for them.

“Return to the hall, Lady Alina.”

“I will, but know that I will be praying the gods keep you and the others safe. Please send word about Merewen as soon as you know anything, or if there is something I can do to be of help.”

“I will.”

Then she eased closer to the other warrior and his horror of an avatar. “Lord Kane, I know you will keep my niece safe, but have a care for yourself and the captain. And Hob here, too.”

Kane’s rough voice was surprisingly gentle. “I will do my best, Lady Alina.”

“I know you will.”

As she spoke, Murdoch drew her to the side as he opened the gate.

Rogue immediately reared up, pawing the air as Kane shouted, “Hob, to the captain!”

When the gate slammed shut behind the hard-riding warrior, Murdoch watched to make sure Alina made it back to the hall safely before he joined the others on the walkway above. His hand gripped and released the pommel of his sword over and over, his blood running hot with battle fever.

He had no doubt the upcoming fight wouldn’t be the last in this campaign; they would have to face the real evil out there before it was over. But this night would be the last time they would have to face Fagan, and that was a worthy-enough goal for him.

K
iva swooped down a second time, appearing out of the growing darkness with his amber eyes aglow and flying close enough to ruffle Gideon’s hair. He held out his arm to offer the bird a perch, but the owl was already winging his way back toward the keep and his owner.

Gideon figured the first trip had been Duncan wanting to know where Gideon was, which meant the second one had been meant as a warning. Something was wrong. That was all Gideon needed to know. He rose up in his saddle, attempting to see far enough ahead in the darkness to discern the danger. Nothing. He closed his eyes and listened to the night as he drew a long slow breath, tasting the scent of the wind.