by Mary Morgan
Table of Contents
Excerpt
Praise for Mary Morgan
Dragon Knight’s Ring
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Epilogue
A letter from Adam MacFhearguis to Readers
Coming this holiday season:
A word about the author…
Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
Also available from The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
She slowly glanced up
at the guest bedroom window. Gazing down at her was the dark Highlander. His hands were braced on either side of the glass, and Meggie could swear for an instant, she recognized him from somewhere. A dream, perhaps? The look he gave her pierced her soul, and she shivered.
“Impossible,” she muttered. “I don’t dream. And ye are leaving now.”
Breaking from his stare, Meggie entered the castle, almost running up the stairs. By the time she reached the guest room, her hands were shaking. Not even bothering to knock, she pushed open the door and stormed inside.
Her mouth became dry, unable to form the words to order this giant out of her home. His bulk blocked the light from the window as he leaned against the ledge staring at her. She was not one prone to swoon at men—any man, but this one made her a jumbled mess. Moving to the table, she picked up his sword and took it over to him. His eyes widened when she approached, and she fell into their dark blue depths.
“I…um…” she stammered before continuing. “Ye should leave.” There, she’d gotten the words out.
Instead of reaching for his sword, the man lifted two fingers and caressed her cheek. She gasped, the touch searing her skin, and she took a step back. She could see the look of shock pass over his features, as if he felt the same reaction.
Meggie shoved the sword into his arms and ran for the door. Yet, when her hand touched the handle, she heard him speak.
“Dinnae leave me again, Meggie.”
Praise for Mary Morgan
“I love the fantasy feel that Mary Morgan adds to her novels for us all to enjoy.”
~Secret Realm Book Reviews
~*~
“Since these characters are strong and charismatic, the readers can’t help but be hauled into their story [in DRAGON KNIGHT’S SHIELD] while the steady-to-fast paced plots keeps readers on the edge of their seat with lots of suspense, excitement and romance.”
~The Romance Reviews
~*~
“The plot of the story is engaging and will have readers eagerly turning the pages for more.”
~Readers’ Favorite Book Reviews and Awards
~*~
“Oh, reader, if you love fantasy, mixed with time travel, Fae, Dragons, knights to make your knees weak, and magic, never hesitate to begin this series. My appreciation to Mary Morgan’s talent is unending.”
~Booktalk with Eileen
Dragon Knight’s Ring
by
Mary Morgan
Order of the Dragon Knights, Book 5
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Dragon Knight’s Ring
COPYRIGHT © 2016 by Mary Morgan
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by Debbie Taylor
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Fantasy Rose Edition, 2016
Print ISBN 978-1-5092-0982-8
Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-0983-5
Order of the Dragon Knights, Book 5
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
For my love of animals everywhere,
I dedicate this book to them.
~*~
In addition, I would like to pay tribute
to the real Skye.
Thank you, Dianne, for introducing me
to your beautiful Border collie.
I hope I have captured her spirit
within the pages of this story.
Prologue
They were an ancient order, descended from the great Tuatha dé Danann, the Sidhe, or in simpler terms—the Fae. Half-human and half-fae, each blessed with mystical powers. Given to them by the Fae were holy relics and guardianship over their Dragons.
They were known as the Dragon Knights.
With the dawn of Christianity, the Dragons were systematically hunted down and slain, leaving only one. She was taken from Ireland to a land across the sea, settling in the Great Glen near Urquhart with the MacKay clan, descendents from the MacAoidh.
Yet, there were those who believed the Order had too much power, and they tried to possess it for themselves. They were evil and twisted, and their plan succeeded one fateful night.
The brothers of the Clan MacKay—Dragon Knights, fought a battle. When the sister of the MacKays was killed, blood spilled onto holy ground, bringing forth the wrath of the Fae. The Knights’ relics were taken, and the Order was banished—each man’s name stricken from the hallowed halls of the Fae.
However, not all was lost, for the Fae loved these men.
Therefore, a quest for redemption was given to each. Duncan, Stephen, Alastair, and Angus MacKay have fulfilled their missions. The Dragon Knights are once again together, and the Order has been born anew.
But there is another Dragon Knight—one who felt the loss of Margaret MacKay’s death to his very soul, leaving him cleaved in two.
Adam MacFhearguis wanders the land as a crusader, a ghost of his former self. Grief is his constant companion. He has witnessed atrocities in other countries as a knight in the Crusades, yet, the horror of witnessing his beloved being slain torments his mind and body far more.
He has sworn an allegiance to the new religion. However, he makes a vow never to claim the peace the one God teaches. His penance for Meggie’s death.
As Adam’s steps lead him home to Scotland, he seeks to close the door on the past by making a pilgrimage to the standing stones—the very place that destroyed his life and took Margaret’s.
Unbeknown to Adam, this quest will alter everything he believes. For in his search for redemption, he must face the future and take up the sword as the new Dragon Knight.
Chapter One
The Standing Stones in Urquhart Glen—Samhain 1204
Adam held her trembling body against his chest, listening to her painful pleas.
“Ye must flee this place. They are coming,” Meggie protested.
“How do ye ken?” He waved his hand about. “’Tis only a fierce storm that is coming.”
She shook her lovely head. “Nae, nae…I can feel my brothers’ powers.”
Kissing her forehead, he gazed into eyes that held fear. The MacKays were intent on destroying their happiness. “I willnae let ye suffer the wrath of your brothers.” Adam brought her cold hands to his lips. “This was to be our wedding eve, and so it shall be.”
She shook her head. “Nae. They are too close—”
“Shh…leannan.” He moved her toward one of the standing stones. “We are in a place of beauty and magic. The light of the Fae surrounds the glen. Naught will happen to us. I shall protect ye. I love ye, Meggie.”
“And I love ye, too, Adam, but—”
Adam silenced her words with a soul-searing kiss. He would not be swayed to believe her brothers were on their way. Aye, the storm built around them, but he deemed it to be one of simply nature to herald the feast of Samhain.
When he opened his eyes, she smiled fully at him. “Must ye always stop my words with a kiss?”
“Forever—”
“Ye die, MacFhearguis!” Duncan MacKay roared the words, as he stepped into the glen. He waved his sword high and brought his special power of lightning far too near to where he and Meggie stood.
Instantly, Adam shoved Meggie behind him. Reluctantly unsheathing his sword, he shouted, “Will ye not listen, Duncan?”
“Nae!” Meggie’s brother thrust his sword outward, but Adam blocked the blow. Yet, the man swiftly turned and slammed a fist to his jaw. “Ye were warned, MacFhearguis,” he spat out.
“Duncan, I beg ye to cease!” demanded Meggie.
The ground rumbled under Adam’s feet. Glancing to his right, he saw Alastair MacKay stride forward. Never had he feared these men, but the rage on their faces was one he had never witnessed. He had to get Meggie away from them.
Duncan pointed his sword to Alastair in warning. “He is mine!”
“Why?” asked Alastair, raising his axe high above his head. “Do ye think to claim the head of a MacFhearguis without me?”
As the two MacKay brothers argued, a third brother, Stephen, approached and dismounted from his horse. Adam slowly stepped back, reaching for Meggie’s hand.
“Stay back, Alastair!” shouted Duncan.
When Duncan in his black rage slashed his blade through Alastair’s arm, Meggie screamed and pulled herself free from Adam’s grasp. The deafening roar of the wind drowned out the injured MacKay’s cries, while Adam tried in vain to hold Meggie back. Lightning flashed overhead, and he struggled to see. Blinking several times, his sight finally cleared.
Adam watched in horror as Duncan’s sword pierced Meggie’s flesh. His heart shattered like a thousand shards of glass, before he realized the pain was not just from his aching soul, but that the MacKay’s blade had also found a home in his flesh as well.
Meggie’s screams filled his head and mingled with his own cries when Duncan pulled the sword free. Time slowed as they both fell to the ground, his head smacking against a boulder. The shouts of the MacKays echoed in the glen as Adam desperately fought the wave of blackness descending over him.
As he drifted into the dark abyss, Adam’s last thoughts were of Meggie. He prayed fate would let them be re-united in the Land of Forever.
“Forgive me, Meggie. I will forever love ye, lass,” he whispered and slipped into what surely would be death’s waiting embrace.
****
The Great Glen in Scotland—September 1207
The howling wind and icy rain slashed at Adam MacFhearguis’s face, while his cloak flapped furiously around his body. The elements of the Highlands welcomed him. Yet, he remained frozen, unmoving as he stared across the heather drenched hills, his gaze focused on the one looming structure—Castle Leomhann. Dark and brooding in the gray light of day, the ghosts of the past now beckoned him to return home. He could hear their whispers through the mists, luring him to another time. A time when he had known happiness.
However, he could not venture forward in joy. This was not a triumphant return. Nae, it was closure on the dead and forgotten. There would be no more laughter, shouts of jubilation, or arms to wrap him in love. The mere thought of her—Margaret—sent a chill of pain slashing at his heart, and Adam clutched the cross that hung around his neck. Was she in the place they called Heaven? Or did her soul slip into the abyss of Tir na Og? He tossed the latter thought to the winds, for he no longer believed in the heathen ways.
The old ways, however, haunted him at times, and he prayed she would forgive him for embracing the new religion. Margaret was of the old ways—gifted with the powers of healing and speaking with the animals. When they first met, he swore lights danced before his eyes at the vision of her on that warm spring day. As he tried to tame a wild horse gone astray, she walked right up to the beast and softly sang a tune. Birds flitted about, a lone deer ambled forth from the trees, and the stallion nudged her arm and rested its head against her shoulder.
“Och, ye fine animal. Are ye giving the lad a difficult time?”
Adam swallowed the curse he wanted to fling out at her. “I am not a lad.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Aye, a brawn lad to be sure, but a man ye are not.”
“And what would a lass so young ken the difference between a lad and a man?”
Her face turned the color of roses, and Adam regretted the teasing barb. Turning to face him, she smiled beguilingly, and his heart slammed inside his chest. “Well, I do have four older brothers, and they have many male friends.”
He arched a brow and moved closer to her. Seeing her eyes grow wide and her blush deepen, he lifted his hand and heard her indrawn breath when he removed a leaf from her hair. “Ahh…pray tell me the difference.”
Those beautiful lavender eyes, the color of heather on a gray day, narrowed at his playful jest. Jabbing a finger into his chest, she pushed him backward. “The difference is, a lad would dare to ask the question, and a man would show me.”
She quickly stepped aside, and Adam grasped her hand. “Has another shown ye?”
“And yet again, the lad asks a question.” Her laughter rang out across the meadow.
Bringing her palm to his lips, he placed a feather-light kiss within, inhaling her scent—a mix of sweet flowers on a warm summer day. Releasing her hand, he walked on shaky limbs to the horse.
“Where are ye taking him?” she asked softly.
Adam kept on moving, praying the lass would follow. “To the loch.”
“I think I shall join ye. He is still restless and may require a calm voice.”
Smiling fully, Adam only nodded.
And in that quiet moment, Adam knew there would be no other. Not only had Margaret MacKay enchanted the horse, she had also stolen his heart in the process.
“Why did ye let her die?” His anguished demand uttered out to the heavens. “Ye took the best of me!”
Thunder rolled in the distance, and Adam raised a fist at the God of the storms. “Ye are no longer my God. I spit on ye!” When lightning grazed a nearby tree, Adam spread his arms out wide. “I am right here. Take aim anywhere.”
The ground rumbled beneath him, but he kept his stance steady. “I dinnae fear ye! Do ye hear me? I have forsaken ye all!” he shouted.
When hail pelted him, he closed his eyes but lifted his face to the pounding ordeal. “Ye cannae harm me, for I live daily with the agony of her loss. Even death will not bring me peace.”
Within moments, the rain ceased, and
the winds subsided to a gentle breeze. Adam wiped the water from his face, opened his eyes, and glanced to his right, seeing the shimmering rainbow over the place of that horrific night—the standing stones. The sacred space where Meggie and he sought to pledge their troth. It was to be a day of new beginnings.
Yet, shared dreams of a happy life, far away from his brothers and hers, turned into a nightmarish scene, where in the end, he watched her die as the darkness claimed him from his own injuries. The last words on his lips were of love, and he prayed she heard his pledge.
In truth, Adam’s real nightmare began when he woke the next morn. Gone were her brothers. Gone was the woman he treasured more than life itself. The guttural cry that broke free from him shook the forest—birds flew off and animals darted away. His grief so raw, he wanted to end his life there among the stones.
His life was naught, if she was no longer in this world.
As he groped about for his blade, his fingers brushed over the small swatch of tapestry she had stitched for them. She had wanted to drape it around their joined hands as a sign of unity—the MacFhearguis and MacKay. A united clan. Adam had clutched the material to his chest, tears streaming down his face.
Nae, he would not take his life today. He would let fate decide.
In the months that followed, he found solace in the words of a traveling priest. He spoke of the one true belief—the one God of love and forgiveness. In their time together, he asked many questions. Could the one God forgive him for failing Margaret? He told the priest he deemed himself unworthy to accept Christ’s loving embrace. Adam believed he had to earn this new belief. When questioned, the priest told him about the Crusades. A battle of old and new fought in a foreign land. A chance to purge the old pagan ways with what the servant of this new God called Christianity.
And on one glorious spring day in 1205, Adam silently left his home, Castle Leomhann, to travel as a Crusader. His hope was to wipe away the stain of Margaret’s death with a penance of poverty and prayer. He would journey in the name of this Christ and seek forgiveness.
However, the Crusades brought their own hideous nightmare—one of greed and corruption, and it sickened him.
