The Cast Of A Stone

by Avril Borthiry

  “My lords. It has been many years since I approached the Circle.”

  Indefinable shadows moved through the trees ahead of him, and the air around him chilled, lifting the hair on his skin.

  “We sensed your distress, Alexander. Your inner balance has been compromised.”

  Alex shrugged. “Temporarily. I'm not immune to discord. You're all aware of the disturbances in my past. Their ripples have caught up to me, and the innocence of the child has been corrupted through my failings.”

  The atmosphere bristled with a sense of impatience.

  “While we regret such an occurrence, Guardian, it's none of our concern. Our interest lies solely in that which you guard. We trust, then, you have a valid reason for this summons.”

  “I have two reasons.” He paused and took a breath. “One is a young knight, who has connected to the stone, although he does not yet know it. He exhibits the required traits and has the qualities you seek. I ask your leave to bring him to the Circle for your consideration.”

  “What of this knight's soul?”

  “Without stain.”

  A soft breeze whispered through the leaves of the oak and something stirred in the branches above his head. Alex glanced up, but could see nothing.

  “And the second reason?”

  Alex shifted on his feet and took another deep breath, knowing what he sought would not be easily given.

  “I seek permission to use the shield.”

  He thought he heard faint laughter ringing through the trees before the woods fell silent. Moments passed and Alex turned to look about him, puzzled at the delay.

  “My lords?”

  “We're still here, Alexander.”

  A warrior emerged from the shadows, tall and strong, clothing as black as night, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Long white hair shone like frost in the moonlight, and his skin glowed as if lit from within. His dark eyes held an unearthly gleam, as well as a mortal spark of amusement.

  “There's stunned silence within the Circle, my friend, for we are truly amazed at the size of your Celtic balls. The shield, is it? Have you lost your mind?” The warrior gestured back toward the trees. “There's one or two back there who are ready to strip you of your status. I told them not to mess with a Scottish warlock.”

  Alex grinned. “'Tis good to see you, Finn.”

  “You too, my friend.” The warrior raised a brow. “What do you need it for?”

  “What does any Guardian need the shield for? To be visible, yet hidden. I only need it for a short time, for my own peace of mind.”

  “To keep an eye on the little lass?”

  “Aye.”

  “Where has she gone?”

  “Yorkshire. The young knight's family has holdings there.”

  “Ah. A love match, is it? Then perhaps you should just let her go.”

  “I cannot. The child is deeply troubled.”

  “But the shield, Alex? I hardly need remind you of the risks. Using it weakens the Guardian's emotional resolve. Your emotions are already under duress. It would not be wise to place the stone among men under such circumstances.”

  Alex lifted his chin. “My resolve is yet strong, but I fear for Emma's well-being. Will you at least consider my request?”

  Finn nodded. “Of course. Everything you've said will be considered. Go home and await our decision. But before you do....”

  He reached out and grasped Darius's hilt, his lips curving into a smile.

  Alex grinned. “Miss it, do you, Finn?”

  “Aye. It reminds me of an Irish lass who came close to giving me similar sensations.”

  A harsh gust of wind cut through the clearing, creaking the old boughs of the oak.

  Finn rolled his eyes, pulled the sword from the earth, and handed it to Alex. “There are those within the Circle who lack a sense of humour. Sadly for them, they don't appreciate a jocular being like myself. Go now. You'll hear from us before nightfall tomorrow.”

  Alex's weary heart took strength and beat with a lighter rhythm as he left the meeting place. If nothing else, it felt good to have connected with his peers, men who knew and understood what it meant to be a Guardian. The fact that they had not immediately rejected his request also buoyed his spirits. Bart must have sensed it too, for the stallion pricked up both ears and feet on the way home.

  * * *

  His mind clouded by fatigue, Alex sought out his bed and succumbed to some much-needed sleep. When he next awoke, the sun was resting on the western horizon, stretching cool shadows across the forest.

  He sat up, his thoughts clawing their way back to mental clarity and balance. The few hours of sleep, though laced with now-forgotten dreams, had done much to restore his resolve.

  As his mind cleared, his lethargic muscles demanded release. Eager to move, he grabbed the sword and headed for the barn. He stepped into the sweet, hay-scented shade, closed the door, and peeled off his shirt.

  Both hands gripped the hilt as he centred the weapon before him. He pulled in a deep breath, locking it under his ribs, sharpening his focus to match the deadly edge of his blade. Only when his lungs burned did he allow the breath to escape, guiding it slowly over his lips in a controlled release. It surrendered any remaining tension and allowed him to settle into a relaxed stance, combining perfect balance with finely tuned form.

  Using slow, deliberate moves, Alex cut the blade through the air.

  As his muscles warmed, he increased the pace and intensity, opening himself up, allowing the stone to reflect energy back to him. He arced the sword in wide, powerful swings, thrusting and parrying against imagined foes with formidable strength. Slivers of evening sun pierced gaps in the barn-boards, catching a swarm of dust motes and slanting off the sweat that glistened on his muscle-honed chest and arms.

  Alex did not slow for a moment, devouring the power in his grasp with the fierce craving of an addict who had long been deprived. The surges flowing through him were highly charged, arousing, and absolutely lethal to any mortal who would dare challenge him while he was thus immersed.

  Behind him, Bart gave a sudden loud snort, and another sword purred as it was pulled from its scabbard.

  “Not bad for a puny Highlander. How about a real challenge, Mathanach?”

  Alex's heart clenched. He spun round, his gaze flicking to the closed door before he smiled.

  “Finn. I didn't hear you knock.”

  The silver-haired warrior stepped out of the shadows with sword drawn and a strange gleam in his eyes. He was not alone.

  A second warrior emerged from the darkness, equally as tall, with long hair as black as the clothes he wore.

  Alex's smile turned into a grin. “And Keir, you sly devil. 'Tis good to see you both.” His grin disappeared as he looked from one warrior to the other. “I hope.”

  Keir gave a nod, the trace of a smile on his lips. “'Tis good to see you too, Alexander.”

  “We'll give you the bad news later.” Finn waved his sword in the air. “But right now, my Gaelic friend, I feel like sparring.”

  “Against Darius?” Alex shook his head, trying to ignore Finn's remark about bad news. “Not even you are that good, my lord.”

  “Nay, not against Darius. Set it aside and use Keir's blade.” Finn nodded at his fellow warrior. “It will even out the match.”

  “Hardly an even match, Finn.” Keir drew his sword and handed it, hilt first, to Alex. “You're fighting a mere mortal.”

  “A mere mortal? I think not.” Finn shrugged, his blade whistling as it cut a figure eight in the air. “But I'll go easy on him. Is Keir's sword a worthy enough weapon for you, Alexander? Not too heavy?”

  Alex grinned, balancing the sword in his hand. “It feels fine.”

  The gleam in Finn's eyes seemed to flare for a moment before his blade arced. Alex blocked it and sparks flew.

  Finn pushed Alex away and attacked again. “Tell me, my friend, do you miss the wee lass?”

  Alex felt a stab of pai
n that had nothing to do with a blade. He dodged a thrust and countered with one of his own.

  He ground his teeth as he swung the sword. “Of course I do.”

  Finn raised his eyebrows as he locked weapons with Alex. “But you must surely welcome the freedom your solitude brings. When are, the women coming over?”

  “What women?” Alex swung again and more sparks flew. “My Lord Keir, please ensure my barn does not catch fire while I silence this Irish demon.”

  “Bah! Let Emma go, ungrateful child that she is. Lose your saintly lifestyle and have some fun for a change.” Finn's blade flashed as it cut through the air. Alex cursed and jumped back, but not before the point scoured a thin line across his chest.

  Finn chuckled. “First blood to me. I'm telling you, scratch the itch between your legs and you'll soothe the ache in your heart. What about that healer wench that lives yonder? Did you bed her yet? Wouldn't mind parting her thighs myself. As I recall, she's in possession of a fine pair of –”

  “Christ almighty, Finn.” Alex pushed his anger aside as he parried a thrust. “I know what you're trying to do, and it won't work. My emotions are under control.”

  Finn stepped back and lowered his sword, his expression at once serious. “Not so, Alexander. You're compromised by your grief.”

  “Aye, as I was once before.” Alex felt a surge of determination and glanced over at Darius, acknowledging the source. “But I prevailed then and shall do so again. The stone is not at risk and you both know it. 'Tis the sanity of my child that is at risk, thanks to the perversity of one man and the lies of another. I can't just let her go and absolve myself of all responsibility for her well-being.”

  Keir spoke. “But she's with this young knight. He must be of pure heart, since you've recommended him to the Circle.”

  “Aye, he is, and he'll protect her with his life, but my fear is for her mind. I would hear your thoughts and know of your decision.”

  Finn narrowed his eyes. “And you will honour that decision? Even if it's not what you wish to hear?”

  Alex flinched inwardly, but spoke truthfully. “Aye, my lords. I shall honour and abide by any decision you've made.”

  Finn glanced at Keir, who nodded a silent response to unspoken words.

  “Night approaches.” Finn gestured to the door. “Come. There's much to discuss and a barn is not the place for such discourse.” He lifted Alex's sword from where it rested against the wall. A sublime smile drifted across his face as the hilt settled into his palm. “I would have bested you easily, Alexander.”

  Alex studied the faces of the warriors seated at his table. Their expressions remained impassive, although the gleam lingered in Finn's eyes. Since they did not display auras in the mortal sense, Alex could only wonder at their mindset.

  Each warrior had, in his time, been a Guardian of the stone. The essence of that honour emanated like veiled moonlight from their skin, casting a faint glow into the gathering gloom.

  “Tell me, Alexander.” Keir's eyes swept over the sparse surroundings. “Do you ever miss court life?”

  “I did at first.” Alex pulled on his shirt. “But my sacrifice was not as great as you might think. I gave up the noble lifestyle, but kept much of my wealth. If I need something, I have the means to obtain it. I want for –”

  “Nothing?” Keir finished, pinning Alex with an intense gaze. “Then why are we here?”

  “Don't twist my words, Keir. I've no interest in baubles, other than the one in my sword, and you well know I cannot buy what it has to offer.” Alex leaned forward. “Only the Circle can grant me permission to use it. I'm eager to hear your decision.”

  Keir sighed and leaned back in his chair. “It's been many years since the Circle has been this - shall we say - stimulated? You stirred up a lot of passion with your bold request. Using the shield has always been considered an abuse of the stone's power. Also, it weakens the Guardian's composure, which leaves the stone vulnerable. It's deemed too great a risk.”

  “What are you saying?” Alex's heart quickened as he looked from one to the other.

  The two warriors exchanged glances before Finn spoke. “We are saying, my friend, that the nays took the vote.”

  Disappointment kicked hard.

  “I see.” Alex managed a grim smile. “Very well. The problems I face are, of course, mine to deal with. I respect your decision.”

  He was suddenly aware of how dark the room had become and rose to light a candle.

  “Sit down, Alexander,” Keir commanded quietly. “Our business with you is not yet finished.”

  Alex sat, puzzled by Keir's remark. “What do you mean?”

  A few moments of raw silence filled the room and a curious prickle wandered over Alex's scalp.

  Finn looked down at the table, his face thoughtful. “'Tis natural that you fear for your child's well-being, my friend. We understand your concerns.”

  Alex nodded. “Emma is very important to me.”

  Finn gestured toward Darius, which stood against the wall. “But as Guardian of yon jewel, you have an even greater responsibility. The Circle expects much from you.”

  Alex stiffened. “Have I not met those expectations?”

  Finn chuckled. “Aye, you have. Met and exceeded them, which became the basis of our argument last night. How can we refuse to help you when you have given and sacrificed so much?”

  “Yet, you just said –”

  “The Circle voted against you using the shield on your own, but we managed to strike a compromise that would seem to suit all concerned.”

  “A compromise?” Hope fluttered in Alex's chest. “What compromise?”

  Finn looked over at Keir. “I think we've tormented him enough. Put the poor bastard out of his misery, will you?”

  “Gladly.” Keir smiled and his dark eyes took on a similar gleam to Finn's. “The Circle has agreed to let you invoke the shield, providing it's done under surveillance and with additional protection for the stone. That being so, Finn and I have volunteered our time. We will assume certain identities in this god-forsaken Yorkshire castle where Emma will be staying. I shall investigate the young knight to see if he's as worthy as you say, and Finn will support your role as Guardian for as long as you need him. He will, in effect, be your second.”

  A ribbon of warmth wrapped itself around Alex's heart. He closed his eyes for a moment.

  “You have my complete gratitude, my lords. This means a great deal to me.”

  “Ach, don't get maudlin on us, my friend. It doesn't suit your ballsy persona.” Finn rubbed his hands together, a wide grin on his face. “'Tis a perfect solution though, is it not? I must say, I'm looking forward to a relapse from my saintly existence. I hear there are some fine wenches in Yorkshire.” He fidgeted in his chair. “Indeed, I believe I'm already aroused.”

  Keir rolled his eyes. “And so it begins. Christ help us.”

  “There's much to do before we leave.” Finn frowned and reached over to lift a candle from the table. He passed his hand over the wick, which caught with an instant flame. “'Tis very dark in here.”

  Alex chuckled. “You must show me how you do that.”

  “We must show you how to create the shield.” Keir stood and drew Darius from its scabbard. “It takes much practice to perfect the illusion. Only those chosen will see what you wish them to see. Everyone else will see your true image. The fewer people you manipulate, the easier it will be on you.”

  “There are only two who I wish to...that I will...”

  “Deceive?” Keir gave a wry smile. “Say it as it is, Alex. The shield is a ruse. A lie. Which is another reason we hesitate to allow it.”

  “We'll need a week to prepare,” Finn mused. “And you'll need another horse, so dig out some of your hidden wealth and buy yourself a new animal. Bart would never make the journey to Yorkshire.”

  Alex pondered for a moment. “I'll leave him with Althena.”

  “Althena!” Finn slapped his hand on the table. “T
hat's the wench's name. I'll go with you when you visit.”

  Alex grinned. “Will I need to protect her?”

  Finn grinned back. “Nay. The lass will be all over me like flies on —”

  “Enough frivolity.” Keir drew Alex's sword from the scabbard. “I was never one to waste time. Let us begin, Guardian.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Three days after leaving Cumberland, Emma's feelings still lay in a tangled heap of disbelief and hurt. Innocence had become a mere word, a thing she had once possessed, never realizing its worth until it was stolen from her by a vile and corrupt soul. More painful yet, in a mind-numbing distortion, the person she'd always turned to for protection and assurance had betrayed her.

  That Alex had lied about her parents was beyond her comprehension. Her waking hours were spent seeking an understanding, an explanation of why he had hidden the truth from her, but she could not make sense of it.

  Nor could she forget the deep sadness in his eyes on the day she left. Anger prevented her from saying goodbye in a gentle fashion, and now guilt gnawed at her conscience. It seemed that a lifetime of love and caring had been carelessly cast aside. After all, Alex was still, in every way that mattered, her father. She missed him. Worse than that, she mourned him.

  Sleep, when it came, brought little relief. Merciless, it opened a door in her mind, giving freedom to the terrors lurking within. She heard Argante's voice muttering guttural obscenities, felt his hands on her throat and a tearing pain deep in her belly. Something warm and wet gushed down her legs as the door slammed shut, leaving her to scream at the silent blackness.

  Only then did she awaken, gasping for breath, sweat soaking her pillow. Instinctively, she would reach for Stephen, her beloved knight, who would hold her close and whisper words of love to soothe her fears.

  He rode at her side now, never more than an arm's length away, always vigilant and protective. More than ever, Emma needed to feel his closeness, and in a strange twist, relished the protective response her nightmares always wrought from him.