by Mary Morgan
Meggie wanted to shout at them both. Fisting her hands on her hips, she slowly walked around the hall to one of the tapestries. The man held his sword high, the storms clouds surrounding him. Lightning streaked on either side of him, and she had a sense the MacKay was directing everything with his blade. It spoke to her of raw power and she shivered. She was always drawn to this one tapestry, especially when she first noticed the sword on her arrival at Aonach. Archie told her his name was Duncan MacKay. All four of the brothers had their tapestries displayed in here, except for the youngest—a sister. Hers was never found.
She wandered over to the others, touching each in passing. “Angus, Stephen, and Alastair. Ye look like mighty powerful men—with a shield, medallion, and axe. ’Tis amazing how the history books have made ye into Gods.” Meggie cupped a hand over her mouth to stop the laughter from bubbling forth. Shaking her head, she walked slowly from the hall.
“No wonder Jamie wants to be like ye all,” she said softly, closing the doors.
****
Castle Urquhart—October 1207
“Bloody hell,” growled Alex. “I grow tired of this waiting, Angus. ’Tis only seven days until Samhain.”
Angus swirled the wine within his mug, keeping his gaze on the liquid. “Ye think I cannae count the days? We—my brothers and I are just as weary.” Swallowing the last of his wine, he placed the mug on the table and looked at the man.
Alex waved his hand out. “I cannot fathom Adam in another place and time. I had only spoken to him about being a Dragon Knight, before he vanished. He did not take the news well.”
“None of us did,” grumbled Angus.
“We should have brought the Murray here with his men,” stated Alex.
“Nae. The snows have started and the path is treacherous. Furthermore, there was not enough time. This is our battle, not Cormac’s. “
“Yet, I fear he will not take kindly when he hears that he did not get another chance at Lachlan,” interjected Duncan as he reached for the pitcher of wine.
“True,” agreed Angus. Holding out his mug to his brother, he watched as Alastair entered, Stephen following behind him. Angus could see by their stern looks that there was no news from the Fenian warriors. Each day, one of them would wait beside the ancient oak tree at the entrance. Conn had been precise in his orders. A Dragon Knight or kin to a Dragon Knight—a MacFhearguis should keep watch by the tree. Upon the arrival of a Fenian warrior, all the brothers would be called forth, and the veil opened between past and present.
However, the days slipped by and everyone grew restless, including the women.
Angus stood. “Who stands guard? ’Tis my time?”
“Nae,” replied Stephen, taking a seat next to him. “’Tis Patrick. Ye will take his place at dawn.”
Letting out a frustrated sigh, Angus sat back down. He had nae desire to be in the lists. Fear and dread were now his companions.
“Have ye all been drinking the morn away?” asked Alastair as he sniffed the contents of several jugs on the table.
“We saved ye the mead,” drawled Duncan, shoving the pitcher his way.
“Och, must not be that bad, if there is some drink left.” He chuckled as he poured some into a mug.
As they sat in silence, the doors to the Great Hall crashed opened. All men stood abruptly, causing some of their mugs to topple over.
“By the hounds, now what?” demanded Angus as all the women and babes entered inside.
Deirdre ignored his question, bringing forth a trencher and giving orders to the other women, including Delia their cook.
“Place the plums in wine sauce near my husband, Delia.” Pausing to blow him a kiss, she moved down the table.
“Are we having a feast?” barked Angus. His tone more curt than he intended and again, she ignored him.
“Of course,” replied Brigid, placing some bread in front of him. “Here, Aileen, let me take one of the babies. Soon, you won’t be able to carry both at once with the way they are growing.”
“Oh, for the love of the Goddess, stop squirming, Aidan.” Handing Margaret to Brigid, Aileen turned to her husband, Stephen. “Do you think you could hold your son for a moment while I finish bringing in all the food?”
Stephen patted his knee. “Aye, leannan. Give me the young warrior.”
Duncan stood and went to Brigid. Placing an arm around his wife, he kissed the top of Margaret’s head. “She is a bonny lass.”
“She’ll be a handful when all the boys come around,” giggled Brigid when the baby tugged at her curls.
“There will be nae talk of my daughter with any men,” shouted Stephen.
“Thank the Gods I dinnae have to worry about a daughter,” chided Alastair as he took his own son from his wife, Fiona. He lifted him in the air, and was rewarded with a smile from the wee babe.
Fiona smacked at her husband’s arm playfully. “Why do you have to do that each time I give him to you? Hugh MacKay is a tiny baby, not some plaything. And don’t be so sure of yourself. Our next child could be a girl.”
Alastair grabbed his wife around the waist and drew her to his side, while cradling his son. “Because the bairn loves it, and ye ken I would welcome a wee lass.” He kissed her soundly before she had a chance to utter a retort.
Nell came skipping into the hall with one arm carrying a basket, and in the other, a small kitten. “Mama, I have brought more bread.”
Brigid smiled and brushed her fingers over the kitten’s head. “Is this one of Whisker’s litter?”
“Aye,” she crooned, bringing it up to her face. “She is so verra soft.”
Duncan lifted both—Nell and the kitten and carried them to the table. “Do I smell Damson tarts, Nell?”
She laughed. “Aye, Father. Moira let me help bake them. ’Tis your favorite.”
He tweaked her nose playfully. “I think I need to sample a bite.”
She giggled and hopped down from the chair. “Ye are to wait until all the food is brought in.”
“I brought ye one, Father,” said Finn walking up alongside Duncan.
Nell narrowed her eyes at the lad. “Ye took one from the kitchens?”
Duncan glanced at Angus. “What can I do?” But he soon burst into laughter and embraced both his son and daughter.
Angus smiled as he watched the entire hall transform into a magical scene. Family. Love. Hearth and home. Reaching for Deirdre, he clasped her hand and brought it against his chest. “Are we celebrating Samhain early?”
Her eyes danced with mirth and much more—love. “Yes. We don’t know what tomorrow may bring, so we—the women and I felt it was necessary to have this family feast. To rejoice all life and love.”
Angus brushed his hand over her womb. “For the first time in my life, I have great fear.”
Deirdre cupped his face. “You’re more scared because you’ve just found out that you’re going to be a father. I firmly believe good will triumph over this evil, Angus.” Tears brimmed in her eyes. “I will fight to save this life I carry—all lives here at Urquhart. We must always have hope. So for tonight, my love, my life, let us honor those that have gone before us and welcome the lives yet to be born.”
He placed his head on her forehead and sighed heavily. After kissing her soundly, he whispered against her cheek, “My beautiful warrior lady, how much I love ye.”
“What are we feasting to?” asked Alex, reaching for some bread.
Smiling fully, Angus walked over to the man and placed a hand on his shoulder. “To family, life, and good friends.” He glanced around at the room full of love and his heart swelled. “Someone go and fetch Patrick. The Fenian warriors will ken where to find us by the merry-making. And at least we will all be in one place.”
“Ye are correct,” agreed Cathal, strolling into the room.
Angus roared with laughter. “Why am I not surprised to find ye here, my good druid friend? Did the birds send ye a message?”
Cathal shrugged. “The storm is
gathering, so what better way than to feast before the looming battle, aye?” He leaned on his staff and glanced around the hall. “’Tis good the life ye and your brothers have made here.”
Pouring some wine into a mug, Angus held it out to the druid. “Drink, dine, and make merry with us on this night.”
Smiling, Cathal took the offered wine. “If ye are willing, I would ask that ye open your doors to the other druids, as well.”
“All are welcome this night.”
Cathal lifted his mug. “Long live the Order of the Dragon Knights!”
A resounding cheer echoed throughout the Great Hall as the feasting began.
Chapter Twenty
“Within the mighty fortress, the knight held the key to unlock the secrets inside her heart and mind. Yet the one item he forgot to bring was courage to see what was hidden.”
Leaning against the tree, Adam breathed deeply of the clean, brisk morning air. The sun greeted him, warming his face. However, his mind and soul grew more worried as another day dawned without Meggie recalling any of her memories. Each morn and night, he sent out the same prayer—let her remember.
Closing his eyes, Adam knelt on one knee. Placing his hand on the ground, he sighed. “Have ye cursed me because of my belief in the new religion, Fae? Can ye not help?”
Have patience, Dragon Knight.
Adam snapped open his eyes, glancing in all directions. “’Tis what I have been hearing each day. I ken ye walk with her. Do not fail her, I beg ye.”
“Is there another one present here?” asked Conn emerging from the trees.
He eyed the Fenian warrior skeptically and stood. “Only my thoughts spoken out loud.”
Conn sheathed his sword. “Has Margaret spoken of recalling anything?”
“’Tis the same. Are ye and the other warriors not troubled?”
He watched as Conn’s gaze drifted toward the mists now descending over the hills. “No. There’s always hope.” He turned back to Adam. “Have faith. Have patience. I will see you tomorrow for more training.” And with those last words vanished from sight.
Rubbing his hand vigorously over his face, Adam trudged back down the hill toward Aonach. With each step, he tried to find some spark of hope, but fear slithered inside and once again, he lost control of the shadows. He blinked, trying to focus. “Nae,” he muttered.
Halting his stride, he raised his fist into the air. “Evil will not win! Do ye hear me! I will fight until there is nae breath in me.” Clutching his cross, he calmed his breathing. When the first spark of hope entered his soul, Adam smiled.
“Thank ye for hearing my prayers.”
Upon entering the gates of Aonach, he went toward the stables. Surprised not to see Meggie inside, he greeted Ciar and then made his way through the bailey. Seeing Lucas striding toward him, he quickly walked the other way.
“I would not venture through the front. I came to warn you,” yelled Lucas.
“God’s blood,” Adam muttered. These MacKays were almost as annoying as Meggie’s brothers were. Halting his steps, he waited.
Lucas approached him. “I don’t know what you’ve done now, but Scott is behaving like he wants to remove your head from your shoulders.”
Adam placed a hand on his sword. “I dinnae fear any of you MacKays. And I have given him no cause.”
Rubbing a hand across his chin, Lucas then pointed to the sword. “Why do you leave each morn with the blade?”
“To train.”
“For what? Are we at war?”
“If ye have nae further questions, I shall take my leave. If I happen to encounter your cousin, I am positive I can take care of the man.”
“Why bother asking anymore. Obviously, you would not answer them.”
Giving Lucas a nod, Adam proceeded to walk inside the front entrance, only to be met by a scowling Scott. Again, he placed his hand on the hilt of his sword and waited for whatever retort the man was going to spew out.
“Stay away from Meggie,” he growled.
Adam wanted to laugh at the man’s words. His hand itched to draw forth his sword. “Never.”
Scott’s eyes turned deadly. “You will only bring death to her.” Shoving Adam out of the way, he stormed out the front.
Adam stared at his retreating form. This time, Scott’s words shocked him. “What do ye mean?” he shouted.
“Let him go, Adam,” stated Archie from behind him.
Glancing over his shoulder, he demanded, “Why? Do ye ken his meaning?”
“His temper is fierce, especially with the knowledge you have bedded Meggie.”
Adam grimaced. “Nae his concern.”
“Remember, he’s a MacKay. Similar to the MacKays of Urquhart.”
“Overbearing,” countered Adam. “Quick to anger.”
“Aye.” Archie chuckled. He waved his hand outward. “Come inside the library. The corridor may have ears.”
Nodding, Adam followed Archie into the library. He saw the scrolls from earlier still strewn out on the table. They mentioned several battles at his home, Castle Leomhann. However, did it matter? If Meggie’s memories did not return, all would cease to be.
“Has Meggie mentioned anything to you?” asked Archie, moving some of the scrolls aside.
Adam groaned. “Is this why ye asked me in here? ’Tis bad enough that Conn asks daily, now ye, too?” He stretched his shoulders and went to the window. “Conn believes there is still hope.”
“He is a Fenian warrior for the Fae. They always believe in hope until the last moment. And then, they still carry on as if they shall win.”
Adam watched as Jamie played with Skye. His son’s laughter filled him. “Then there is naught we can do but wait. Until the verra last moment. Surely the Fae would not see an entire Order vanish.”
“I cannot answer for the Fae.”
“Humph! Ye are one of them. Ye may call yourself only a Bard, but you have the blood of the Fae flowing within your veins.” Adam placed his hands on the window ledge, continuing to watch his son’s playful behavior. “I wonder if the MacKays of the thirteenth century were as troubled by your words as I am. I am curious if they ken that I now belong to the Order of the Dragon Knights.”
“Great Goddess! What and who are ye?” demanded Meggie.
Adam whirled around, seeing the shocked look splayed across her face. Her hands were clenched by her side, and he feared to move toward her.
“Do come inside, Meggie,” uttered Archie softly.
She didn’t move. Adam swallowed. “Please. We can explain,” he pleaded.
She nodded slowly and walked inside, closing the doors behind her. Yet, she made no move to come any further. Adam longed to take her into his arms—to tell her all would be right.
“I’m waiting,” she stated.
Adam looked at Archie, and the man only shrugged. “Will ye take a seat, Meggie?”
She glared at him. “Nae. ’Tis bad enough I’m in a closed room with two demented men—one believes he’s Fae, the other, a Dragon Knight from another time.”
“I do not ken the word, but ’tis what we are. Archie is a Bard for the Fae, and…” Adam paused, unsure how to finish. His heart pounded, but he needed to tell her everything. He could not hold back any longer. “I am a Dragon Knight, born in the year of our Lord, eleven hundred and eight-four. I believe the Fae have sent me to this time to find ye. To help ye.”
“Why,” she whispered.
Adam rubbed a hand across his forehead. “Ye are not meant to be here, Meggie. This is not your time. The Fae sent ye here.” He took a step toward her. “Ye were born in the year, eleven hundred, and eight-five, and died in the year twelve hundred four. Your death came during a battle between your brothers and me at the standing stones. ’Tis why I believe ye fear them. The Fae, who ye do believe in, brought ye here.” He glanced at Archie. “Furthermore, I have only recently come upon some knowledge that there was a great evil present that night.”
“By the hounds! Ye are mad
!” Meggie then pointed a finger at Archie. “And I let ye near my son! No wonder he lives in a fantasy world. Ye have filled his head with rubbish. I want ye both to leave this instant.”
“Nae,” countered Adam. “Ye wanted the truth and that is what I have spoken. Do not toss out harsh words.” He waved his hands about. “Listen to yourself, Meggie. Ye believe in magic, the Fae, Gods and Goddesses, but ye cannae fathom my story?”
She opened her mouth and then snapped it shut. Throwing open the doors, she glanced over her shoulder at him and the look she gave him shattered his soul. “I want ye gone from Aonach before I return.”
“I will not leave our son, Meggie.”
When she turned back around, Adam could see the hurt reflected in her eyes. “Ye knew?”
Adam moved toward her, and she placed a hand out to halt him from coming any nearer. “I have only recently learned he is my son. I did not ken.”
“I wish ye had never come here, Adam MacFhearguis. I’m more confused than ever.” She tapped her head. “And this knowledge has done naught to help me recall any memories. I had a good life—one where Jamie…” She choked on her son’s name.
“And I’ve had a life of misery and torment from the moment ye left me,” responded Adam.
Tears pooled in her eyes. “Not my fault.”
“Nae, but ’tis the truth.”
She shook her head. “I can’t be around ye right now.”
Adam watched as she quickly walked away from him.
“You have told her too much,” complained Archie. “She cannot understand everything.”
He raked a hand through his hair. “I grew tired of telling her untruths.”
“I can see patience is not a virtue with you.”
“It has never been,” grumbled Adam.
****
Throwing the mug across the room, Lachlan returned his gaze to the blaze in the hearth. Samhain was drawing near and his fury grew. The Dark One was unable to speak with him in this time, so he had to rely on the knowledge he passed on to him before he came to this time.
“One holds the key,” he spat out. Pounding his fists on the stone, he moved away from the hearth. “But who?”
