Highland Sword

  “What of Father’s cousins?” the boy asked softly. “Why could they not be lord?”

  “Because they were unworthy. You see, they’re possessed by evil.”

  “You dare to call us evil, witch?” Mordred advanced on her and swung his hand in an arc, slapping her with such force, her head snapped to one side and stars danced before her eyes.

  “Don’t hurt her.” In his anguish, Hamish forgot his fears and caught Mordred’s fist before he could use it on her again.

  Alarmed, Desmond pulled a knife from his waist and raised it over the boy.

  “Nay, Desmond.” Mordred lifted a hand to fend off his brother before he could carry out his intention. “We need them alive for a little while longer.”

  “The witch called us evil.”

  Mordred laughed. “And so we are.” He nodded in satisfaction as Desmond returned his dirk to his waist. “You see, the witch and the lad are merely the bait to trap our real enemy into coming here, where he’ll be helpless. When we’ve finished with our cousin, I’ll give you the pleasure of killing these two.” He glanced at Allegra, who had gathered Hamish into her arms. “My brother enjoys killing. Don’t you, Desmond?”

  The younger man nodded. “Mordred used to let me kill animals, just for the pleasure it brought me.” Allegra felt a chill race along her spine and close like an icy fist around her heart.

  “I taught him to hunt, so he could enjoy the sport of killing.” Mordred looked up, then nodded toward the distant ridge. “See? Even now our latest prey is almost here, Desmond. Then the hunt will be truly over.”

  Merrick raced through the gardens, past the edge of the meadow where Allegra and Hamish had planted their herb garden. The wattle fence, so carefully woven of sticks and willow branches, was a shocking reminder of the love that had been lavished on this place.

  Love. His heart contracted with pain at the thought. He’d willingly have given his life for that of his son. And the same was true of the gentle witch. He loved her as he’d never believed he could love anyone. And because of him, her life, which had once been idyllic, might now end in violence.

  The thought had him racing through the fields of heather until his lungs burned from the effort. As he came up over a ridge, he saw the figures in the distance and charged toward them, praying he wasn’t too late.

  “So, cousin. You found our missive.”

  Mordred and Desmond formed a united front, standing with weapons lifted as Merrick came to a sudden halt.

  “Allegra. Hamish.” He stared beyond the men to where the woman stood, holding the lad in her arms. “I saw blood. Have you been harmed?”

  Allegra shook her head. “It’s of no consequence. It was a small cut.”

  Mordred advanced. “Drop your sword, cousin. Or my brother will slit the lad’s throat.”

  “Nay, Merrick. Don’t leave yourself defenseless,” Allegra shouted into the stillness that seemed to have descended on the meadow. Not a breath of air stirred. Not a single blossom moved. “For no matter what you do, they intend to kill us.”

  Allegra’s words were ignored as Merrick tossed his weapon aside. “Do with me what you will. But I implore you to spare these innocents.”

  “And let them tell the villagers what we did here?” Mordred threw back his head and laughed. “You must all die this day, cousin.”

  With all his strength he thrust his sword, and Merrick leaped aside, dodging the full impact. Instead, the blade of Mordred’s sword slammed into his shoulder, causing him to suck in a breath at the searing pain as his cousin stepped closer and cruelly plucked his weapon free.

  Hamish cried out when he saw his father drop to his knees, blood streaming from his wound.

  “You won’t fare as well with my brother, for his aim is true.” Mordred motioned for Desmond to attack. “Now you can have your pleasure, Desmond.” The younger man started toward Merrick, lifting his sword high.

  As Merrick struggled to face his opponent, Allegra concentrated all her energy until the hilt of the sword began to glow like the sun. With a cry of pain Desmond dropped his weapon before clasping his burned hand to his chest.

  Mordred caught his brother by the shoulder. “What is it, Desmond?”

  The younger man looked around wildly. “It must be the witch. She’s used her magic against me. Kill her quickly, before she bewitches us both.” Mordred gave a chilling laugh. “Never fear, Desmond. Before we’re through with the witch, she’ll beg us to kill her. As will her lover.”

  He snagged a handful of her hair and pulled her close. “But first, we’ll make her watch her lover die, ever so slowly.”

  “Release the woman.” Despite his pain Merrick stumbled to his feet and started toward them.

  “Stop him, Desmond.”

  At Mordred’s words, the younger man took the knife from his waist and tossed it, watching as it landed with a dull thud in Merrick’s chest. As the color slowly drained from Merrick’s face, his hands closed around the hilt of the weapon, buried deep in his flesh, but the pain was too great to budge it. With a look of surprise mingled with pain, he dropped to his knees.

  “Now, witch.” Mordred Watched as Merrick struggled for his very life. “Before death claims my dear cousin, Desmond and I will show you what we did to the lovely lasses who were routed from their beds last night by our fire. Though it will pleasure us greatly, it should add to Merrick’s pain considerably. I want him to die watching the woman he loves being humiliated at the hands of those he trusted.”

  Allegra was repulsed by the touch of these men. But though she vaguely heard the mocking laughter as the two brothers began to tear at her clothes, the only thing that seemed to penetrate her consciousness was the sobbing of the lad who knelt in the grass and clutched at his father’s hands. She knew in that instant that she would do whatever it took to save them all from these madmen. Even if she were forced to pay the greatest price of all.

  Mara came racing up. As she struggled for breath she gazed down at Merrick. “Is he dead, then?”

  “Nay.” Mordred laughed. “But soon. We’re about to add to his pain.”

  Allegra used that moment of distraction to gather her thoughts. She stood facing the enemy, looking regal in nothing more than a tattered gown that, though shredded, was still attached at both cuffs, displaying bits of flesh barely concealed by a delicate chemise and petticoats. “Tell me, Mordred,” she asked. “What will you do when we are all dead?”

  “I shall be lord.” He made a grand sweep of his hand. “And all this will belong to me.”

  Allegra glanced at Mara. “Have you promised to make her your lady?”

  “Aye,” the wench boasted. “And I shall have all the lovely gowns that were once yours.”

  “Fool.” Mordred swung his hand in an arc, slapping her across the face with enough force to cause her to drop to her knees. “Did you really think I would take a lowly servant as lady of the castle?”

  The girl brushed a hand across her mouth and stared at the blood in astonishment. “You promised. I killed my parents for you, so that I’d be invited to live at the castle and earn the trust of the lord and his family. I helped you kill his lady, and stole the lad’s mind with my potions.”

  “You did a fine job, Mara. You’ve earned your reward.” Without a flicker of emotion Mordred drew back his arm and plunged his sword into her chest, then calmly withdrew the bloody weapon and thrust it into a clump of heather at his feet.

  Ignoring the whimpers from Hamish, he turned to Allegra with a sneer. “You won’t be as fortunate, witch. Instead of a quick death, I’ll see that you suffer first.”

  Allegra continued to face him without flinching. “And what of your brother? What role will he play in your reign? Or will you be forced to kill him, as well, so that there is no need to share the rewards of your evil deeds?”

  Desmond’s brows shot up. It was obvious that he’d never given a thought to his own future. He turned to his brother. “How do you answer the witch?”

/>   “Never fear, Desmond. You’ll be my man-at-arms, and share in all the wealth and comfort of Berkshire Castle.”

  Desmond spoke with the petulant voice of a child. “But I'll not be lord.”

  “Of course not. I’m the eldest. Besides, you’d have never thought of this on your own. Without me, you’d still be living in that hovel in the forest.”

  “I loved that cottage.” His vacant eyes lit with the memory. “Do you remember how our mother welcomed us home from our first battle with fresh scones and hot mulled wine? And wept with us over the loss of our father?”

  “Aye. And would have consoled us over the harsh winter with her hugs and kisses until the lot of us were frozen and half-starved, if I hadn’t seen a better way.”

  “A better way?” Desmond stared blankly at his brother. “I don’t understand.”

  “You’ve never understood. It’s always been up to me to figure a way for us to survive. I knew that Merrick’s mother took in all those who were orphaned. And so she did with us, when our poor mother met her... untimely death.”

  Allegra stared at the man in stunned disbelief. Even though she knew him to be a cold-blooded killer, this was beyond anything she could imagine. “Are you saying you killed your own mother, Mordred, in order to live in Berkshire Castle?”

  ‘“And why not? I spared her a slow death by starvation. And my brother and I were soon living like lords.”

  He was laughing when Desmond rose up with a roar of pain and brought his fist to his face. “Nay. Not our mother. She loved us. Loved me especially, as no one else ever had.”

  “Aye.” Shocked and angered, Mordred mopped at the blood that poured from his nose. “Our mother was the only woman who could ever love you, you fool.”

  Before he could say more, Desmond came at him, head first, and drove him backward with such force, he landed on his back in the heather. Then the slow-witted man was on him, fighting like a feral dog, battering his older brother almost senseless.

  Without warning, Desmond felt the sudden sharp sting of a dirk buried deep beneath his breastbone. For a moment the younger man seemed too stunned to react. Then he stiffened before slumping over.

  Mordred pushed the body of his brother aside and struggled to his feet, his breathing tortured and ragged. Then he turned the full force of his fury on Allegra, who had used the distraction to hurry to Merrick’s side.

  “Desmond was a simpleton. Without your interference, he would have gladly served beside me in any capacity I chose. But you had to put ideas in his mind. It’s your fault I was forced to kill him. Now, witch, you’ll pay for this.”

  “Nay.” As he reached for Allegra, a childish voice stopped him.

  He turned with a smile. “What, Hamish? Has our cowardly little lad found his courage?”

  “Aye.” The boy stood facing him, his little body trembling as he began speaking, not to Mordred, but to the vision that hovered nearby. “I remember now, Mama. I remember everything.”

  Allegra turned and saw the beautiful golden-haired woman smiling at her son, her arms outstretched as though to embrace him.

  Hamish’s voice grew stronger. “I remember the way Mordred and Desmond came into your chambers after Mara forced you to swallow the broth. I remember the sound of their laughter as they tossed you over the balcony. I first remembered it the day I was climbing the tree in the meadow. Mara had given me a tea to drink, saying it would give me wings to fly. Instead it brought all the memories back, and when I fell, I fled in fear. Then I forgot again. But now I remember everything.”

  The woman seemed to shimmer and glow as, weeping, she drew near and gathered her son into her arms, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Then she turned and touched a hand to Allegra’s shoulder before the light around her grew so bright, it was impossible to look at her.

  Allegra covered her eyes and turned away. When she lifted her head the woman was gone, but the warmth of her touch remained like a blessing.

  Mordred turned away from the boy with an air of dismissal. “How could you know such things? You weren’t even there the night your mother died.”

  “I was hiding in the passageway. I saw and heard everything.”

  “Then why did you never speak of it?”

  “It was stolen from my mind. Mara came to my chambers and gave me a potion to calm me. Perhaps that’s why I forgot. Perhaps that’s when I lost my courage, as well. Whatever the reason, I remember it now. And I no longer fear you. You killed my mother.” Hamish ran at him. “But you’ll not kill again.”

  Mordred’s arm shot out to stop him. Instead, the lad sank his teeth into the man’s flesh until he let out a howl of fury. When Mordred managed to shake him free, he reached for his sword, only to find Allegra already there, holding it in her hands.

  A sly smile twisted his mouth. “What will you do with that, witch? You’re barely big enough to hold it in both hands. How do you hope to wield it as a weapon?”

  “You’re right, of course.” She flung it aside and stood facing him. “I have no need of such a puny weapon. You are filled with evil, Mordred, and there is but one force stronger.”

  “You think yourself stronger than me, witch?” He reached for her, and was startled when his hands refused to close. Instead his fingers felt so heavy he could barely move them. His legs, too, refused to move. He stood frozen to the spot as Allegra lifted her arms high and began to chant.

  Her voice had an eerie quality that had him going completely still, suspended in place. Even the meadow seemed frozen in time. No insects buzzed. No birds sang. Not a hint of breeze rippled the heather.

  “Mighty one, reach out your hand. Remove this evil from our land.”

  Though there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky, a bolt of lightning shot from the heavens, knocking Mordred to the ground. He lay there writhing and moaning while his flesh, and then his bones, began to slowly burn away until there was nothing left of him but a cloud of dark, acrid smoke. At last there was a crash of thunder that echoed across the hills. As the sound faded, the smoke dissipated.

  This display of magic had drained Allegra. It took all her energy just to drop to her knees beside Merrick. The gaping wound in his chest flowed with a river of blood, until the ground beneath him ran red with it. His eyes were closed, his body as still as death.

  The little boy caught his father’s hands in his, and looked over at Allegra. “Save him, healer.”

  “If only I could. Oh, Hamish, if only I could.” She knelt beside him, unable to do more than shake her head.

  The silence was broken only by the sounds of the boy’s sobs as he struggled to hold tightly to the man he loved more than life itself.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Please, healer.” Hamish leaned over his father’s still figure, unmindful of the tears that fell, mingling with Merrick’s blood. “Do something. Help him.”

  So much blood, Allegra thought. It took all her effort to touch a finger to Merrick’s temple, searching for some connection to this man who owned her heart. She could feel nothing. No pain. No confusion. No thoughts of any kind. Just a stillness that had her absolutely terrified.

  She had already been drained of all her power, dealing with the evil one. She was completely helpless to save the man she loved.

  Desperate, she lifted her face to the heavens and shouted, “Mum. Gram. Please. Oh, please come. I need you so.”

  Hamish watched as the last of the color seemed to drain from Merrick’s flesh, leaving his face as pale and cool as though carved from granite.

  “He’s dead, isn’t he? Just like Mama.”

  “Nay.” Because she couldn’t accept it, Allegra shook her head from side to side. “He hasn’t left us, lad. He just... needs help coming back.”

  “You’re the healer. Why can’t you save him?”

  “I want to. But I can’t do this alone. If only...” She looked up at the sound of a great rush of wind that whipped the field of heather, leaving the blossoms swaying about wildly. Two women, weari
ng flowing gowns of spun gold, appeared beside her.

  “Oh, Mum. Gram.” Allegra was alternately weeping and laughing as she fell into their arms and embraced them. “I feared you wouldn’t come.”

  “How could we not? Though it has taken us so very long, there is neither distance nor time that could ever separate us from those loved ones who need our help.” Her mother’s voice was as soft as a lullaby. “Your heart is heavy, my darling.”

  “Aye, Mum. It’s Merrick.”

  Her mother knelt beside the still body. “This is the man who stole you from our Mystical Kingdom, and carried you away to his?”

  “Aye. His name is Merrick MacAndrew.”

  “And now he’s gone to the great beyond, and you’re free to return home, my darling.”

  “Nay, Mum.” Allegra dropped to her knees beside her mother. “I’ll never be free of Merrick MacAndrew, for I’ll carry him in my heart forever.”

  “In your heart?” Her mother’s head came up sharply.

  Allegra nodded. “I love him. If he’s truly gone, I wish only to join him in that other world.”

  Her mother glanced over Allegra’s head, to meet the knowing look of her own mother.

  On a sigh she said, “So. That is how it is.” She studied her daughter a moment, then said briskly, “There’s no time to waste. We must take him to the Mystical Kingdom, where our power will be greater when joined with that of your sisters.”

  “Why didn’t they come?” Allegra turned to her grandmother.

  “Their winged steeds couldn’t leave the safety of our kingdom. And we were in too great a hurry to transport them with us. But have no fear. We’ll soon join them. Come. We must all gather round the circle if we’re to bear Merrick MacAndrew to our home.” She cast a glance at the little boy. “Is the lad blood of this man?”

  “Aye. This is Merrick’s son, Hamish.”

  Nola took the lad’s hand. “Then your strength is truly powerful, Hamish, for the blood that flows from generation to generation is an unbreakable bond. You must come with us. But be warned. What we do in our kingdom will drain us of all power. It could even cost us our lives. Are you willing to pay the price?”