Twilight's Eternal Embrace (37 page)

His gaze caught a young lad eyeing his sword with reservation. Perhaps it was his weapon that unnerved them and not his intimidating stance.

"
I have traveled far and wish only to have something to eat and drink for myself and my squire.
"
He kept his voice even toned, hoping he sounded friendly.
"
Once the lad has taken care of the horses, he will join me.
"

The man standing behind the wooden bar forced a smile and nodded his head. His hair had grayed, but he stood tall. Age had not robbed him of his strength.
"
We have lamb stew and ale aplenty.
"

"
Sounds splendid.
"
He removed his mantle as he took the empty table near the back of the room where his back would be to the wall and he could see the coming and going of the men. They were Gaelic farmers by the looks of them. Most had dark hair, darker than his, and their skin was weathered from the sun and wind.

The innkeeper brought him a tankard of ale.

"
Your name?
"
Liam asked, meeting the man
'
s gaze.

The man seemed nervous and on edge, but he could not fault him. He was a stranger to this region of the island.
"
Jarvis Hearne, kind Sir.
"

Liam lifted the tankard to his lips, taking a generous swig. The ale went down smooth with its sweet full bodied and fruity taste. He leveled his gaze on the innkeeper.
"
Thank you, Jarvis.
"

The man nodded his head and scurried away only to return a few moments later with two generous plates of stew. There was even bread for dipping. He ate in silence and the room began to return to normal with low murmurs of conversation. They barely glanced at Cormac who strode in like a shivering waif.

He waved to the boy and he hurried over to him.

"
Sit, and eat. The food is good and hot.
"

Cormac shoveled his food
into
his mouth like it would be his last meal.

"
Slow down.
"
Liam chuckled.
"
I promise you no one will steal your plate.
"

Cormac wiped his face with the back of his hand and grinned. With much effort, the boy managed to take smaller bites.

Liam had planned to stay the night here, but with the odd welcome, he thought it wise to continue on his journey.

Just as he was finishing the last of his ale, a man placed another tankard before him. His face was weathered and his beard straggly.
"'
Tis not safe to be wandering so close to the forbidden forest.
"
He was not stating the name of the forest in question, but warning him in some way to stay clear of it.

Liam
'
s lips curved as he stared at the old man over the rim of his tankard.
"
And why is that, may I ask?
"

"
The nights belong to
her
of course, especially this time of the year when the otherworld is stronger. Not that it matters to her. Her strength is like ten men.
"

He assumed the old man spoke of the approaching Samhain as the time of year in question. Christianity may be practiced, but the people here still held onto the pagan superstitions.
"
Her? You speak of a woman then?
"
His gaze traveled over the men in the pub, large men who may not know how to swing a sword, but they were not idle men. Strong and daring, but yet, they sat there crossing themselves at the mention of the forest and who dwelled in it.

Cormac paused in his eating, his dark eyes looking too large for his face as he stared wide-eyed at the old man.

The old man glanced over his shoulder as if asking the other patrons
'
permission to continue. No one came forward to stop him and his gaze returned to Liam.
"
She is a beautiful lass with dark strands and a face of an angel, but you must not be fooled. She is one of the undead, a creature who feeds off the blood of men.
"

"
Surely, ye jest.
"
Liam chuckled, but realized no one shared in his mirth. They truly believed some lass lived in the forest devouring men
'
s blood. He was only four and twenty, but he had heard of such talk about these creatures on his quests, but he had brushed the tales off as nothing more than fanciful stories. He had no wish to offend and would indulge the old man, letting him tell the tale about the fallen angel who drank men
'
s blood.

The man waved to Jarvis, asking him to keep their tankards full.

By the time Liam downed more than a few tankards of ale, he became boastful about his bravery to fight off evil.

"
Are you not afraid to die?
"
One man braved to ask.

"
I served with the Knights Templar. If I should die during a battle, my passage to heaven is secured.
"
His plans to go home seemed a
distant
memory as his declaration to destroy the fiend took precedence.

He withdrew his sword and held it high above his head.
"
No fiend shall terrorize Dunnloch this day forward.
"
Cheers and stomping of feet greeted his pledge. He glanced at Cormac who looked unsure, but his squire raised his tankard to him as the men ushered him to the door.

Chapter Two

"
A superstitious tale is all this is.
"
Or so Liam believed until he stood at the entrance of the forest with only a lantern for light. The cool night had sobered him enough to realize what a fool he was for venturing out in the dead of night to slay an imaginary fiend. He slowed Loucetios to a stop. With a snort, his mount
'
s nostrils flared as if he picked up an unpleasant scent. He shook his mane, pinning his ears to the sides of his head.

Liam held his lantern high, hoping to shed some light within the dark void.
"
Go, Loucetios,
"
he encouraged his mount to move forward with a swift kick of his heels, but Loucetios refused to budge.

The oak and birch trees stood before them like an ominous wall of limbs, swaying in the wind as if to lean down and capture them within their grasps. He murmured a curse, refusing to be intimidated by trees. He jabbed his heals into Loucetios
'
flank again.
"
Go now, trusty companion, and I
'
ll have an apple brought to you on a daily basis for a full moon cycle.
"

Loucetios snorted and stomped his foot on the ground as if to convey his thoughts on the matter of stupidity, but in the end he obeyed and trotted forward.

Instead of the trees supplying shelter from the wind, it blew cold around them like icy fingers trying to grab hold. The trees loomed toward them the farther they ventured forth, becoming thicker and taller as if they stood centuries in the earth and didn
'
t appreciate the intrusion. Perhaps he should turn around. He pulled back on Loucetios
'
reins and turned in his seat. The path they
'
d taken looked nonexistent with a wall of tree trunks lined like a fortified wall of defense.

He turned around again and leaned forward, patting the side of Loucetios
'
neck.
"
It
'
s all right, my friend. We
'
ll find our way out.
"
Loucetios stomped his right front hoof and lifted his head with a whinny, but Liam ignored his protests and pushed him forward.

The wind wailed like a banshee and was cold like frost and as pesky as a fly as it whipped his long strands in his eyes.

Gooooooo back….
A ghostly whisper tickled his ear.

He pulled on the reins again.
"
Who goes there?
"

Turn baaaa….ck.

The hairs on his arms stood up on end.
"
Tis a ghost warning us, Loucetios.
"

Loucetios nickered, nodding his head in agreement as if to say,
"
Finally, you have come to your senses.
"

Gooooo. Goooooo,
the unearthly voice
'
s urgent pleas grew stronger.

At this point, he didn
'
t care if the whole village thought him a coward, he would no longer stay in the forest. The
spirits
wished him gone, and so, he would honor their request.

He whirled Loucetios around, only to have his mount thrash in fright, rising up on his hind legs and unseating him. He fell hard, hitting his head on a rock or something just as unyielding. Loucetios galloped away, leaving him behind in the dark, now that the candle in the lantern had blown out. Never had his mount acted in such a manner. He
'
d fought wars, slashing his sword at the enemy and never had Loucetios run away in fright. Yet here he sat, abandoned within the haunted forest.

He sat up and regretted the movement as his eyesight wavered in and out. His vision caught movement, light, and a blur of color. His hand went for his sword, withdrawing it. The sharp scrape of metal added to the wails of the wind.

Wanting to meet his foe on his feet, he moved too quickly, causing the world to spin. The whirl of colors taunted him like he was the prey about to be devoured.
"
Who goes there?
"
He whipped around at a sound behind him. The sudden movement caused his vision to dim to black. He fell backwards like a
fallen
tree, but before darkness overtook him, he could have sworn he heard a woman
'
s soft whisper.

"
You are mine now.
"

About the Author:

Karen Michelle Nutt resides in California with her husband, three fascinating children, and houseful of demanding pets. Jack, her Chihuahua/Yorkshire terrier is her writing buddy and sits long hours with her at the computer.

Her Book, Lost in the Mist of Time, was nominated for New Books Review Spotlight Best Fantasy Book of the Year Award 2006. A Twist of Fate was a nominee for Best Time Travel P.E.A.R.L. Award for 2008. Creighton Manor won Honorable Mention P.E.A.R.L. Award 2009.

Her new passion is creating book covers for
Western Trail Blazers
and
Rebecca J. Vickery Publishing
. In her spare time, she reviews books for PNR-Paranormal Romance Reviews.

Whether you
'
r
e
reading fancy is paranormal, historical or time travel, all her stories capture the rich array of emotions that accompany the most fabulous human phenomena—falling in love.

Visit the author at:
http://www.kmnbooks.com

Stop by her blog for Monday interviews, chats
,
and contests at:

http://kmnbooks.blogsp
o
t.com