The Witch and The Warrior (44 page)

Robert instantly leaped forward and wrenched the jewel from her.

“At last,” he breathed, staring lasciviously at the glittering gem, “you are finally mine.”

“No!” Gwendolyn gasped, trying to grab it from him.

Robert struck her hard against the face with the back of his hand. She cried out as she went flying to the ground.

Swirls of pain clouded her head, and a warm, metallic taste seeped onto her tongue. Gwendolyn touched the corner of her mouth, then stared numbly at the blood wetting her fingers. Slowly she raised her eyes to him. Gone was the soulful remorse that she had imagined seeing in him but a moment earlier. The man who glared down at her now was the Robert she knew: cruel, avaricious, and utterly ruthless.

“Surprised?” he drawled. “Poor Gwendolyn. Did you actually think I could be the simpering idiot I was pretending to be?”

“I thought even you might have some fragment of morality buried deep within your blackened soul,” she replied, shaken. “I was wrong.”

“So you were,” he agreed, amused. “But do not despair. In another moment I shall be king of Scotland, and then I will put you out of your misery.” He braced his legs apart and lifted the stone reverently toward the roiling sky. “I, Robert of Clan MacSween, command you to make me the most powerful king and mightiest ruler of Scotland, invincible to all!”

A blinding sheet of lightning painted the sky white, followed by a deafening explosion of thunder.

Gwendolyn slowly rose and stared at Robert. He stood with his arms outstretched and his eyes closed, the jewel gripped tightly in one hand as he waited for his transformation to finish. It was over, she realized, overwhelmed by the magnitude of her failure. Not only was Robert king, but he had wished for invincibility as well. No one could stop him now. A sob rose from the back of her throat.

“Good Lord, such a blast!” sang out a cheerful voice through the darkness. “That was truly marvelous, I tell you. I expect my ears will be ringing for days.”

No,
thought Gwendolyn as horror surged through her.
Please God, don't let him be here.

A lone rider was casually weaving his way through the standing stones, moving at such a leisurely pace one might think he was out for a pleasure ride. His ghostly silhouette was tall and broad, and the powerful horse he rode moved with a deliberately controlled stride, as if the beast were in no greater hurry than his master. A bright shaft of moonlight pierced the darkness as the warrior drew forward, turning his hair to gold and lighting every magnificent detail of him, from the insouciant expression on his handsome face to the relaxed stature of his enormous body. MacDunn had come here alone, Gwendolyn realized, no doubt believing he would fight Robert on fair and equal terms. It was of no consequence whether madness or foolish naïveté had caused him to behave in such a reckless manner. The conclusion was inevitable.

MacDunn was about to die.

“Good evening, m'lady,” Alex said, offering her a courtly bow from his mount. “It is an absolutely splendid night, is it not? I must say, ever since that last storm of yours, I have grown inordinately fond of thunder.”

Gwendolyn stared at him, speechless, her eyes filled with tears. No warning could protect him from Robert's newly acquired invincibility. Nor could she tell him in these final moments that she loved him, for fear that Robert might take pleasure in torturing MacDunn to further torment her.

“What a pleasant surprise, MacDunn,” sneered Robert. “For a moment I actually feared I was going to have to ride all the way back to your holding to kill you. This is far more convenient—although rest assured, I do intend to return and slaughter everyone in your clan, down to the last squalling babe.”

“Good Lord, Robert,” Alex sputtered, “whatever have you done to your hair?”

Robert's hand self-conciously flew to the ludicrously charred ends. “The witch did it,” he snarled, glaring at Gwendolyn. “And she will pay for it handsomely.”

Alex blinked. “But why would she cast a spell to make you look so thoroughly absurd?”

“She didn't do it with a spell!” snapped Robert. “She did it with a torch. Now if we could proceed with the matter at hand—”

“You burned his hair off with a torch?” interrupted Alex, looking incredulously at Gwendolyn.

She nodded.

“Next time, try a pair of scissors,” he advised amiably. “I think you'll find the results are far more even.”

“You may be interested to know, MacDunn, that I am now ruler of Scotland,” Robert announced grandly.

Alex raised his brows. “How fascinating. Does King William know about this?”

“I expect he does,” replied Robert, not sounding overly certain.

“Well, if you have become king, surely you must have defeated him in some great battle. I can't see how he would fail to notice a thing like that.”

Robert's mouth curved in a thin smile. “All I did was use this stone.” He held the precious gem between his thumb and forefinger. “It has made me the mightiest ruler in the land.”

Alex cocked his head to one side. “Your pardon, Robert, but you don't look very mighty,” he observed candidly. “If that stone can grant wishes, perhaps you should wish for your hair to grow back—and maybe for your face to be cleaned up a bit—”

“Enough!” Robert snarled, exasperated.

Alex shrugged. “Well, then, now that you're king, what are you going to do?”

Robert smiled and drew his sword from its sheath. “The first thing I'm going to do, you mad idiot, is kill you.”

“No!” cried Gwendolyn. “Please, Robert, I beg you, do not do this. I will do whatever you say—just let him live!”

“You will do whatever I say regardless of what happens to him,” he said harshly. “And now that the stone has given me this power, you are of no further use to me anyway.” He waved his sword at Alex. “Come down off your horse, Mad MacDunn, and meet your death.”

“Don't do it, MacDunn!” Gwendolyn cried, rushing toward him. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she clung to his heavily muscled leg, trying to hold him to his mount. “Ride away!” she pleaded softly. “You still have a chance if you just turn and ride away!”

Alex's expression remained a cross between amusement and bewilderment. “Really, m'lady, your lack of faith in me is almost insulting.”

“You don't understand,” said Gwendolyn desperately. “Robert cannot be defeated—the stone has given him that power! No matter how bravely you fight, you will die. You have a son who needs you and a clan who must have your protection.” She pressed her forehead against his thigh and finished in a ragged whisper, “I beg you, Alex, do not sacrifice yourself for nothing.”

Alex gently tipped her chin up with his fingers, forcing her to meet his gaze. No hint of madness clouded the piercing blue of his eyes, and even the insouciance he had affected but an instant earlier had vanished. “You are not nothing to me, Gwendolyn,” he said, his voice achingly low and reverent. He tenderly caressed her tear-streaked cheek as he finished roughly, “You are
everything.
”

Gwendolyn stared at him in wonder as she slowly absorbed the meaning of his words, his touch, the solemn, powerful intensity of his gaze. And then she shook her head and glared at him, fighting her emotions, knowing that if she opened her heart to him, they would both surely die.

“I cannot be everything to you,” she informed him coldly. She shoved his hand away and stepped back. “I am a witch, and I need no one. Do you understand? Now stop being such a fool and ride away, before Robert hacks your mad head from your body!”

Alex regarded her a long moment. She was pretending indifference, but her gray eyes were glittering with fear and her hands were gripping her cloak so tightly her knuckles looked like tiny bleached pebbles beneath the taut skin.

“Come, MacDunn,” Robert called out gleefully, waving his sword in the air. “I haven't got all night, you know.”

A brilliant flash of lightning creased the sky.

“Trust me, Gwendolyn,” Alex urged softly, ignoring Robert. “I vowed to protect you, and I will. Not because you belong to me,” he added, seeing her about to protest. “But because without you, I am lost.”

Tears dripped down her cheeks. “If you care at all about me, then you will turn and ride away before he kills you.”

Alex swung himself down from his horse. “Just try to keep the rain off awhile longer,” he said, unsheathing his sword. “I do dislike fighting in the rain.” He winked at her, then turned and walked toward Robert.

“At last.” Robert held his sword out before him.

“Really, Robert, I never knew you were so fond of fighting,” said Alex, leaning casually against his own weapon. “Did you not receive enough attention as a lad?”

“Try to distract me if you wish,” retorted Robert, slowly circling him. “It will not affect the outcome of this battle.”

“Ah, yes, Gwendolyn has told me that you are now invincible. Seems to me that takes some of the amusement out of swordplay.”

“Believe me, MacDunn, the fact that I know you are about to die does not mar the perfection of this moment in the slightest,” Robert assured him, moving closer.

Alex meticulously adjusted one of the pleats in his plaid. “I'm delighted that you're enjoying yourself. Just let me know when you are ready to begin.”

“We have already begun, you mad fool!” Robert snapped. “Prepare to die!” He charged toward him.

Alex made a final, minor modification to the drape of his mantle, then raised his sword just in time to deflect Robert's powerful blow.

The crash of steel filled the night, with silver sparks exploding into the air each time the sharp edges of their blades met. The two warriors were more than equally matched, for Alex met Robert's thrusts blow for blow, driving him back a few steps before Robert forced Alex to relinquish some ground. Lightning webbed the black cloak of sky around them, punctuating the clang of metal with a deafening crash and drowning the hard grunts the warriors made as each struggled to gain the advantage.

“You cannot win, MacDunn,” Robert ground out, trying to wrest Alex's sword from him. “You might as well surrender and let me finish you off quickly.”

“That's exceptionally gallant of you, Robert,” observed Alex. “Forgive me if I seem ungrateful, but I do enjoy a good fight now and again.”

“As you wish.” Robert sliced down suddenly, raking the edge of his sword across Alex's chest.

Hot blood leaked down his torso and seeped into his shirt.

“You see?” said Robert, smiling as he surveyed the damage. “You cannot best me, MacDunn. I am unconquerable.”

“So you keep saying,” returned Alex, clenching his jaw as the pain burned through his chest. “But if that is so, Robert, why are you taking so long to kill me? Surely as ruler of Scotland you have far more urgent matters to attend to.” He frowned. “Could it be that stone you're clutching is nothing but a pretty pendant?”

Robert roared with rage and charged toward him. Alex held his sword low, then raised it in a powerful arc at the last moment, propelling Robert's weapon to the side as Alex swiftly slashed at his upper arm. Robert howled with pain and staggered back, staring in confusion at the scarlet stream racing down toward his wrist.

“If you wish, we can stop and have Gwendolyn take a look at that for you,” Alex offered graciously. “I think you'll find she's exceptionally handy with a needle and a few strands of hair.”

“I'm going to kill you!”

“As you wish,” said Alex, shrugging. “Let us continue.”

Gwendolyn watched in mute horror as the two men raised their swords and began again, each hacking at the other with savage determination. Despite Alex's affected bravado, she could see that he was not impervious to the wound in his chest, for each time he lifted his sword he winced, and his shirt grew dark and heavy with blood. Still he crashed his sword against Robert's blade again and again, forcing his opponent to dance backward. Moonlight spilled in a pale aura over the two warriors, etching them in a ghostly light as they battled amid the ancient stones.

“You have fought well, MacDunn,” Robert admitted, breathing heavily. “However, as you have pointed out, I have more important matters to attend to. The time has come for you to die.”

Alex immediately lowered his sword and stepped back. “Very well, then, Robert. Do what you will.”

Gripping his sword in both hands, Robert let out a triumphant roar and charged forward, his eyes afire with victory.

Please God,
pleaded Gwendolyn, her heart shattering,
please God, don't let him die.

Alex held his ground, waiting until the last second.

And then he suddenly spun aside and drove his own sword deep into Robert's gut.

“No,” said Robert, staring in astonishment at the cold strip of silver disappearing into his belly. He raised his eyes to Alex. “It cannot be. I—I cannot be defeated. I am invincible.”

“Forgive me, Robert,” said Alex, “but you must have been mistaken about that.” He yanked his sword from Robert's stomach, releasing a gush of scarlet onto the ground.

“You have not won, MacDunn,” Robert said through gritted teeth. He raised his blood-drenched fingers to his mouth and managed a shrill whistle. “My men will enjoy hacking both of you to pieces,” he spat, clutching his bleeding belly as he sank to his knees. “But first they will use you like a whore,” he finished, casting a vicious smile at Gwendolyn.

She glanced fearfully at the crest of the hill, waiting for Robert's warriors to thunder into sight.

No one appeared.

Alex sighed. “Unfortunately, I believe your men are otherwise engaged,” he said apologetically. “I hope you don't mind, but I asked my men to keep them entertained while I visited with you.”