Trial of a Warrior

by Mary Morgan

  “Why not remove your gown and go for a swim?” Liam suggested, leaning against a rowan tree.

  She gasped, unaware anyone was in this particular area of the glen. Of all the Fae, Abela was not prepared to be alone with Liam MacGregor. He stirred things within her—made her heart beat wildly, and her skin prickle with heat. His silver blue eyes roamed over her, and she fought the temptation to do what he’d suggested. Liam MacGregor was sinfully seductive, but forbidden to her. She’d heard the rumors he was destined to enter the Brotherhood of the Fenian Warriors, and she refused to enter into a dalliance. Her parents—no her brother would kill him and seek answers later.

  Turning her back on the intruder, Abela stepped into the stream. She kept her focus outward and enjoyed the water lapping against her legs.

  His footsteps retreated and for a moment, Abela regretted his departure. She stole a glance over her shoulder and gasped for the second time. He’d removed his tunic and rolled up his pants. He strode with intent and entered the stream, halting beside her.

  Abela lifted her chin. “What are you doing?”

  “Testing the water.”

  “Are you jesting with me?”

  “Never, princess.”

  She studied his profile—one of power and ageless strength. The sun danced off his dark auburn hair, and Abela ached to brush away a lock that was forever falling across his eye and cheek. And his lips, oh my. No man should ever possess such full lips. Abela often fantasized on tasting them. Would they be soft? Or firm?

  Liam kept his attention riveted on the stream. “The water is soothing.”

  “Agreed.” Her gaze traveled the length of him.

  He turned toward her. “Is there something wrong with my body?”

  Abela felt the heat rise from her neck to her entire face. “No,” she whispered, unable to turn away.

  His hand brushed against hers. “Do you find it…pleasing?”

  A tremor of longing to be kissed filled Abela. She should flee this instant, but her feet refused to listen to her mind.

  Liam reached out and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. His finger trailed down the side of her neck, and she shuddered. “You have not answered me.”

  “Yes,” she replied rapidly.

  The smile in his eyes contained a sensuous flame, and she was drawn to him. A soft breeze billowed around them. She ached to press her mouth against his. Just one kiss.

  As if reading her thoughts, Liam cupped her chin and stroked his thumb over her bottom lip. “Your mouth begs to be kissed, princess.”

  She swallowed and did the unthinkable. “Then kiss me, Liam MacGregor.”

  His groan echoed around them as he took possession of her mouth. The kiss sent the pit of her stomach into a wild swirl of delicious sensations. Abela’s body yearned to touch him, so she wrapped her arms around his neck. The contact of his skin against her chest ignited a burning desire for more.

  Liam grasped her firmly around the waist with one arm and deepened the kiss. When his silken tongue sought entry, she opened fully to the seduction, tasting wine, apples, and his own scent. His moan resonated deep within her, and she found her body responding to a rhythm as old as the land they lived upon.

  Never did Abela imagine the power behind a kiss—seductive, enchanting, shattering, and she craved more.

  Liam demanded and Abela surrendered.

  When he finally broke free, Liam’s breathing was labored.

  “Do not stop,” she pleaded.

  His eyes glittered with the light of the stars. “If I continue, I will claim you here upon the ground. I shall take your body and all you have to offer. Are you ready for the claiming?”

  The rational side of Abela awoke, and she took a trembling step back. She had no words to give the man. Their destiny was on two separate roads—warrior and princess. He was not hers to claim, and Abela would not surrender her virginity so easily. By the Goddess, how she yearned to be someone else and not royalty.

  He placed a chaste kiss on her forehead and turned away, retreating into the trees.

  The air cooled considerably, but she refused to leave the water. Her body and mind ached with the loss.

  Abela’s mind relived the velvet warmth of his mouth, and she raised a trembling hand to her lips. “Never again, Liam MacGregor.”

  Chapter Four

  “Rules are a foundation for life. If you believe yourself to be above them, you must be able to fly. Otherwise, the ground beneath you will be hard when you fall.”

  ~Chronicles of Liam MacGregor

  Liam brought his horse to the crest of the hill and scanned the valley below. Snow continued to fall, and the landscape was blanketed. He shifted to get a better view of their surroundings.

  “Where are we going?” asked Abela, giving a firm pat to her horse.

  He pointed in the distance. “Beyond those trees are the ancient Pictish standing stones. We can utilize them to travel back to the Fae realm.”

  Shock registered across her features. “No.”

  He almost laughed at the absurdity. This was his life, not hers. “I will not continue on this path, Abela.”

  She twisted the reins of her horse. “Why are you so eager to die?”

  “My life was doomed the moment I took Aidan Kerrigan back in time to rescue his daughter.” His tone remained resigned, and he looked away from her.

  “Are you so sure?”

  Liam snapped his attention back to her. “It is the law! No Fenian Warrior can alter the timeline to suit their own needs.”

  Her mouth thinned in disapproval. “Those needs were Aidan’s—not yours.”

  “You’re twisting the meaning of the words. You seek to bend the laws for your own understanding.”

  “Then let us return to when the Treaty of Feahan was written and change the one law,” she encouraged, leaning across and touching his arm.

  He shook his head solemnly. “Again, we are attempting to alter something which occurred on a timeline. Furthermore, even if I wanted to do so, I cannot.”

  Abela straightened. “Explain.”

  “You forget I was present at the signing of the treaty. One must never return to the exact moment in time they once occupied. You would split the very fabric of the universe, bringing about death to everyone and skewing the timeline irrevocably. In addition, there are many variables to attempting to go near the time-period. We must procure the document after it was signed.”

  She wiped a hand over her brow. “I…I had no idea.”

  “You are not at fault. This knowledge is only contained within the Brotherhood. You are not a Fenian Warrior.” Liam noted the blue tinge to her lips. They had spent too long out in the frigid weather. His last remaining duty was to see her to safety. “Abela?”

  She lifted her gaze to meet his. “Yes.”

  “Thank you for your efforts, but I deem it is wise to return home. The Fae guards will soon find me missing. I have no wish to do battle in the human world if they come charging at us.”

  Her eyes gleamed with a far-off look—one Liam understood well.

  “I have another plan,” she announced.

  “Abela,” he warned, raking a hand through his hair. “I do not want to come upon guards with you by my side.”

  She dismissively waved away his concerns. “We are both in trouble with our kingdom. First, I left the temple without permission. I violated a sacred trust. Do you know the judgment, if I should return?”

  “Do tell.”

  “Banishment. My eye color has already receded to lavender and no longer contains the vibrant hues of all the gems of our world. Second, I broke the law by using the temple’s magic to set you free. Do you want to know the punishment?”

  “I am afraid to ask.”

  “Stripped of all my powers. Forever. And then I would be sent to a remote part of the realm. Forever. Third, I dared to defy my own people by breaking into a prison and releasing the notorious Fenian Warrior, Liam MacGregor on trial for death.” She nar
rowed her eyes. “I don’t believe anything like that has ever been attempted in our kingdom. Do you?”

  “No,” he replied dryly.

  “Now do you see my predicament? We cannot return.”

  “Great Goddess! Then please state what we can do!” He pointed a finger in warning at her. “And do not tell me we are traveling back in time to rewrite the treaty.”

  Her eyes held mirth as she tapped a finger to her luscious mouth. “No, but why not include a provision to the treaty? Did not others do so down through the centuries?”

  Liam wanted to throttle her. Apparently, she knew enough about the lore and facts of the treaty already. “Your knowledge is correct, but again, we cannot venture back to the time—”

  “As you have professed many times,” she interrupted, and quickly added, “but we can journey forward a few years of the signing, correct?”

  Intrigued, he asked, “Exactly what law are you seeking to rewrite?”

  Abela tapped a finger to her chin in thought. “Did you volunteer to take Aidan back in time?”

  “No.”

  “He sought you out and asked your permission?”

  “Not exactly. More a demand.”

  She pursed her lips. “He forced you?”

  “Must I remind you, Aidan no longer possessed his powers? All he had was brute strength, and the blood of the Fae lineage.”

  “He exercised his right as a leader, correct?”

  Liam blew out a frustrated sigh. “He presented me with a condition. If he could get permission from one Fae, I would grant his request and take him through the Veil of Ages.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Who granted him permission?”

  “I am unable to divulge the name of the Fae. I took a vow of silence—one which will die with me.”

  Abela shifted on her horse, excitement flaring within her eyes. “But don’t you understand? We don’t need to add an amendment to the treaty. Why not ask this person to step forward and be a witness at your trial?”

  “Did you not hear my words? A vow of silence. To my death!”

  She gaped at him in horror. “Well, I would like to say a few words to this Fae for putting you in this predicament. Shameful.”

  Liam settled his gaze beyond the trees. Her idea of adding an amendment to the treaty was appealing. He’d known of several during the past few centuries. Furthermore, they were amended by the royal houses of the Fae, not by a Fenian Warrior. He brushed a hand over his chin. In truth, it was senseless to continue on this journey. Both were now doomed. Abela for leaving the temple and breaking him free. For himself, agreeing to leave with her and considering an alternate possibility to his current situation. If he hadn’t, then perhaps she would have abandoned her irrational plan. Did he long for death? No. Yet, there truly was no other alternative.

  He returned his attention to Abela. Even in the harsh weather, her profile was regal. Out of all the Fae in the kingdom, she was the only female to twist his guts and make his blood burn. This journey was fraught with uncertainty, but having her by his side might prove to be his greatest challenge as a warrior. She had stirred the ashes of feelings he had buried when he recited his vows and received his markings as a Fenian Warrior.

  I will not succumb to the lure of your beauty, princess. You are not mine to possess.

  Slowly, Abela angled her head to meet his intense stare. “I have no wish to return. We have come this far, so will you dare to see how much we can tempt fate?”

  Her words ignited something Liam had not felt in many moons. Hope. “They will track us. They will not stop until we are captured.”

  “They can try,” she challenged.

  His decision made, he said, “You must learn quickly, Abela. With your powers and my guidance, we can travel through the Veil. Heed my words and do not deviate. If there is any error, we could travel from one century to the next without achieving our destination. Or worse, we could become separated.” He refused to scare her further with the possibility of entering into another dimension—lost within the fabric of the universe.

  Her mouth twitched in humor. “You will find me a quick learner, Fenian Warrior.” She pulled forth a pendant from around her neck. The red oval stone glimmered in their stark surroundings.

  Liam tried to contain his shock. “You have the Stone of Ages from our homeland?”

  “I am the keeper, yes. This will make it easier to travel within the Veil. But I require your aid.”

  “Why is it not with your brother, Conn?”

  “As I have stated, much has occurred in your absence. The relic has been entrusted into my care. This is all the knowledge I shall share with you.”

  What happened to Conn? When Cathal had referred to his friend as the prince, Liam had to control the questions spilling forth from his mind. What terms did they give Conn at his trial? The Fae Warrior had always been adamant about not seeking his heritage and claiming the throne. Yet somehow, Conn became the Prince of the Fae and would eventually be their king. His king.

  “Answer me this, Abela. How did Conn step back into the role of being the prince?”

  She pulled the hood more firmly around her head. “It is not my place to discuss his journey.”

  “Can you share anything?”

  “No.”

  Snow fell more heavily, and Liam slammed the door on his questions. “We must retreat from the bitter elements.”

  “Agreed,” she muttered.

  “Then let us proceed to the standing stones.” Liam gave a nudge to his horse and off they rode.

  By the time they reached the ancient giants, the snow had turned into a fierce blizzard. Abela slid off her horse, eliciting words of comfort to the animal and led him near the tallest stone pillar.

  Liam withdrew his sword. “Hold out your palm. Since you are royalty, your blood with help transport us through the Veil of Ages.”

  She removed her glove and held her hand out in front of him. Her gaze never wavered from his, and Liam noted the trust within those beautiful depths.

  He made a small incision in the middle of her palm and smeared a portion of the blood on the stone. “Keep your focus on me. Do not falter for a second. The lights will tempt you.”

  “I understand, Liam. The realms in between are a delight to behold, but the most dangerous and deadly.”

  He sheathed his sword and wrapped an arm around her waist.

  “And the horses?” she shouted.

  The wind howled around them, and Liam raised his voice. “You will send them back the moment we leave this century.”

  There was no room for doubt. Liam required utter concentration. To transport them both through the Veil was a risk he dared to take. His fate was already decreed, so another law broken wouldn't matter. If only he had his Fenian powers, they could have been there in a whisper of seconds. Now he needed to create an opening.

  He drew in a deep breath and released all his anxiety on the exhale.

  When he uttered the first words in their ancient language, the ground rumbled beneath them. Mother Danu was not pleased. Abela leaned her head against his chest and fisted her hands in his cloak. Liam continued to chant the words as lightning splintered the sky and slashed over their heads. He refused to retreat and raised his voice over the clamor of thunder.

  The vortex opened to reveal a swirling mass of fog. “Send the animals back!” he shouted.

  He heard Abela snap her fingers and then grasped her hand. He kept his attention riveted on their destination as he pulled them along. One year. One place. One king. And this all depended on Abela’s focus to get them there. Lights danced all around him. Echoes of other timelines. The air grew heavy, slowing their progress, until Abela stepped in front of him and lifted the Stone of the Ages.

  The mists retreated, and they were swept off their feet in a giant swoosh of air. The magic catapulted them through the void, and Liam grunted a curse as his back hit solid ground with Abela landing on top of him. A resounding clang echoed around them as the vo
rtex slammed shut.

  “Ears…hurt,” gasped Abela, trying to draw in a breath.

  Liam cradled her head against his chest. “It will soon pass.”

  “Is it normal?”

  “Yes, when traveling unconventionally.” In truth, Liam considered them fortunate to have survived the journey. Never had he attempted this method of traveling the Veil.

  She lifted her head. “And we have to do this again? Through the stones?”

  He strangled on a burst of laughter. “Unfortunately, yes. It is the only way. To venture through the land might prove far more dangerous.”

  “Sweet Goddess, that was deafening,” she complained.

  Liam reached up and pushed the hood of her cloak back from her head. Color had returned to her features. He was unable to turn away from staring at her lips. They were full and as red as the berries he had eaten many moons ago during a Midsummer feast. Her body was soft, warm, inviting, and desire shot through his veins.

  Abela’s eyes widened, and she quickly scrambled off of him. After rolling in the opposite direction, Liam sat up and surveyed their surroundings. He clasped his hands over his bent knees and tried to calm his swollen erection. Lush grass and wildflowers as far as he could see wrapped around them. He deemed it might be late spring or early summer. Shielding his eyes from the sunlight, he smiled. Castle Dunkelp glimmered in the far west. Though it only contained one large keep surrounded by other round houses, it was a splendor to behold from a distance.

  “We have arrived near Moot Hill at Scone,” he announced and stood slowly. When Liam got no response from Abela, he peered over his shoulder. She stood several feet away. Uncertainty clouded her features, and he regretted his earlier lustful attentions.

  “Abela…” he started forward, trying to form words of an apology.

  She quickly masked her emotions and held out her hand. “I am ready to take us near the castle.”

  He clenched his jaw so tight he feared it would snap. Taking her hand, he gave her a curt nod of approval.

  She whisked them away in a sliver of light, and they emerged within a cluster of pine trees. Abela instantly dropped his hand and waved her fingers over her body. Gone were the trews and tunic. She was covered in a gown of ivory edged with silver trimmings. With a snap of her fingers, a cloak materialized in her arms. She slipped the garment over her figure. Liam watched in awe as the princess tapped a finger to her head, and her ebony tresses cascaded in soft waves down her back. Elegant, refined, and noble. All for the King of the Scotland, he mused.