Knights of Black Swan, Books 7-9 (Knights of Black Swan Box Set Book 3)

by Victoria Danann

  She shook her head and pulled back. “You know what you mean to me, Ram. I’d do anything for you. Anything but this. Storm saved my life.” I opened my mouth to respond, but she added. “Twice,” and I felt myself flinch at that.

  “That’s a reason to be grateful. ‘Tis no’ a reason to give yourself to someone you do no’ love.” I took hold of her again and searched her eyes hopin’ to find recognition that we were a pair. “I know you’re tryin’ to do the right thing. ‘Tis part of who you are and I love you for it. O’ course I get that. But, if you choose Storm, you’ll be sentencin’ all three of us to a life of unhappiness.”

  She shook her head, lookin’ miserable, but resolute.

  “Elora, you can no’ say no to me. This can no’ be right.”

  I pulled her close enough to put my forehead against hers and said, “Kiss me.” There was no question in my mind that she had to come to me. I knew it like an age old ritual playin’ out by intuition. It had to be her choice, though I was dyin’ inside at the hands of a very profound fear that she would cling to her decision.

  She did no’ pull away, but did no’ move to close the short distance between us.

  “Kiss me,” I repeated, hearin’ that my voice had gone gruff, the words ragged with my anguish and desperation.

  “I can’t, Ram. Please. Stop. My mind is made up.”

  It was over. As much as I did no’ want to give it up, as much as I knew walkin’ away would be a death sentence, I’d given it my best shot and there was nothin’ left to say. I took a step back, looked her over and saw that she would hold firm. She would no’ be moved. I felt a kind of numbness wash over me, inside and out. ‘Tis difficult to explain. ‘Twas like one minute I was seein’ the world clear and true, and the next I was strugglin’ to make out colors. Like tryin’ to look through a distorted screen or filter.

  I think I heard Blackie whine and bump my leg with his nose. My eyes were open, but nothin’ was in focus. It took a lot of will to make my body move toward the door. I left without another word. I’d used all the words I could think of to make her understand and words had failed me. I closed the door.

  I can no’ say how long I stood in the hallway outside. I know that I was no’ motivated to move at first.

  I went through the motions of packin’ my things, knowin’ in my heart of hearts that I would no’ be back and also knowin’ that I would no’ be needin’ what I left behind.

  When Farnsworth called to say my plane was landin’, I shrugged on my pea coat, slung my duffle over my shoulder and took one last look ‘round. The last thing I picked up was a package wrapped by Bloomin’dales.

  I knocked on her door. When she answered, I drunk her in, knowin’ ‘twould be the last time I saw her.

  “I’m goin’,” was what I said, while my mind was repeatin’, “Please do no’ let me. Please stop me and tell me there’s been a mistake.”

  All she said was, “Now?”

  I handed over the cheerful-lookin’ package. “Happy Yule,” I said. “If you change your mind, or if you need me, this is how to find me.” I pulled a note from my pocket and put it in her hand. I’d written out the directions to New Forest, no’ believin’ she would ever look at them. Still, I had to do it.

  With brows drawn together, she took the note in her hand, hesitated for half a second lookin’ like she might be blinkin’ back tears. She threw her arms around me and I knew it was goodbye.

  I shut my eyes tight, wantin’ to memorize the feel of her, the smell of her. I hugged her back and indulged in turnin’ my head into her hair for one last breath of wild jasmine.

  She put her lips next to my ear and whispered, “Don’t be mad.”

  “I’m no’ mad, Elora," I said into her hair. “Can no’ be mad at you. You’re my darlin’ girl.”

  I pulled away fast, hidin’ my face from view. Prolongin’ the inevitable was only goin’ to make things more painful. Although I was no’ altogether certain that was possible. I did no’ look back. I do no’ know if she watched me leave or no’. What difference would it make? Things would be the same either way.

  I made my way to the landin’ strip and boarded the jet for Edinburgh, never before in my life feelin’ so low or so alone. Jefferson Unit receded from view seconds after take off.

  “Well, that’s that,“ I thought to myself.

  CHAPTER 27

  Storm

  I was feeling pretty good about things. Elora was well on her way to a full recovery. Same with Rammel.

  For a while there, I thought she wasn’t going to choose me. But she did. I pulled our bags off the jeep onto the tarmac and couldn’t help a grin. I turned to her and said, “We’re going to have a wonderful life”.

  I figured it was time to call an end to the farce Sol was calling an office romance policy. The woman was going to be my wife. She knew it. I knew it. And I’d never even kissed her. It was high time to put a stop to the hands-off nonsense.

  She returned my smile and tilted her face up when I leaned in for a kiss. To say that didn’t go the way I’d planned in my imagination? Well, that would be the understatement of the century.

  Elora jerked back like she’d just been tasered by my mouth, leaving me wondering, what the devil? She was looking around like she was seeing things I couldn’t see. It was alarming and, well, weird.

  “What’s wrong? Please tell me my kissing isn’t that bad.”

  When she looked up at me, her eyes were full of tears that hadn’t yet spilled over. I felt my shoulders slump because I knew what was coming next.

  “I’m so sorry, Storm. I don’t expect you to forgive me so I won’t ask.”

  Feeling suddenly self-conscious about my hands, I put them in my pockets. “Ram,” was all I could think to say.

  “I owe you my life - two times over. And I do love you. But not this way. If it was just the two of us…” she trailed off and paused to wipe tears away with the back of her hand. “I wanted it to be you. Please believe that.”

  I looked over at the plane taxiing and gave a slight nod, already feeling miles away. In just a few more minutes we would have been on that plane together.

  I cleared my throat. “I do believe you, Elora. It’d be dishonest if I said I was completely surprised. I guess you’d have to be blind not to see that the two of you are in love.”

  My hand went to my breast pocket where I’d stowed the photo of the vineyard. I was going to tell her about it on the plane ride, maybe drive her over there while we were home in the valley for the holiday. That wasn’t going to happen. “Sometimes hope and denial go hand in hand.” I said it looking out at the plane, but I forced myself to turn and face her.

  “I’d like to hate him. But I can’t. I loved him first. I’d like to blame him for wanting you, but I can't really do that either, can I?" I reached out and ran my fingers down her wet cheek. “You sure this is what you want? I’ve known Ram a long time. He’s a mixed bag.”

  “It’s not a choice, Storm. I thought it was, but it’s not.” She put her arms around my waist and squeezed tight. “I won’t forget how much I owe you. I swear it.”

  I pulled away and ducked down so we were eye to eye. “You don’t owe me a thing, Princess. I did what I did and I wouldn’t change it.”

  If Sol had taught me anything, it was that a person’s reaction to trying times is what defines them. I wanted to be worthy of my vocation. So I decided to take the high road. I pulled her to me and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, gave my best impression of a smile, picked up my bag, and started walking toward the plane. One foot in front of the other.

  I wanted to turn around, but forced myself to keep facing forward.

  I won’t lie. It wasn’t a pleasant event, but those of you who know my story also know that it was the best thing. Not just for Ram and Elora. For me, too. All these years later, I have no regrets.

  I wouldn’t change a thing.

  CHAPTER 28

  Liam O’Torvall

 
It had been snowin’ for about an hour. Moira and I had just sat down to enjoy a supper of shepherd’s pie, when we heard a knock at the door. We looked at each other as if to ask if either of us was expectin’ anyone, as we did no’ often have callers after dark.

  “I’ll get it,” she said.

  I nodded. That was fine with me. I was in no hurry to separate myself from my wife’s shepherd’s pie which was perfection and served at the exact right moment, temperature wise. When I heard her laugh, my spoon full of goodness stopped midway to my mouth. The old woman rarely laughed with the abandon I was hearin’.

  I rose to go see what was the matter and felt my heart grow lighter when I saw Rammel Hawking on the threshold given my wife a right and proper huggin’.

  “What’s this?” I said. “A wayward prince come callin’ on a dark Yuletide night?”

  “’Tis.” The boy looked up and smiled at me, but I could see something was no’ right. I had known him since he was waist high and, because I paid attention, I knew him well.

  “Come in out of the cold. So happens we’re enjoyin’ your favorite dish and there’s plenty.”

  “Shepherd’s Pie?” he asked.

  “Indeed,” I said. “Take off your coat. Put your bundle down. And come share supper with two old people glad to see ye.”

  My wife fetched another bowl from the cupboard and dished the boy a generous portion, as she knew the extent of his appetite.

  “You stoppin’ off here on your way home for Yule?” I asked.

  “No,” he said. “I’m stayin’ at the cabin this season.”

  I frowned, knowin’ that was no’ like him. He held no lost love for his father, the king, but he made a point of bein’ home for Yule to please his mum when he could.

  “Well,” I said. “You can’t start that way tonight. You’ll stay with us. Sleep in your old bed until the morn.”

  He nodded absently, lookin’ like he was concentratin’ on the food before him, even though he was no’ eatin’.

  “Something wrong with the pie?” asked Moira.

  He looked up at her, down at the bowl, and back at her again. “No, Moira. ‘Tis wonderful as always. I must be tired is all.”

  Rammel. Too tired to eat? No’ in a haymaker’s week. I exchanged a worried look with my wife.

  “Your mare is in good stead. The Abernathy boy has been ridin’ her every day, keepin’ her in good condition for ye.”

  That got a half smile out of him. “That’s nice, Liam. I’m lookin’ forward to seein’ her.” Just as quickly as the smile had come, ‘twas gone again.

  “O’Bannon and his sons put a new roof on the cabin in September.”

  “Oh?” he said. “That’s good. Means I’ll be sleepin’ in a nice dry bed.”

  “Aye. Sent your father the bill.” I laughed, but Ram didn’t respond. “Do no’ feel like ye must keep us company, lad. Our bond is too long and too old for formalities. Go on off and get yourself a good night’s rest then.”

  Ram looked between the two of us. “Thank you,” he said. “For everything you’ve done for me.”

  He rose and started away.

  “Is there anything at all you’d like to tell us? We’re good listeners with great affection for ye. We’re also good at keepin’ secrets, as you well know.”

  “No’ tonight. But thanks for askin’. Means the world.”

  With that he disappeared ‘round the corner, leavin’ me with a fitful night’s rest and a heaviness settlin’ in the spirit of the house.

  The next mornin’ gave me even more concern. Ram took the little stock of supplies that Moira put together and tied it to the saddle. As he ran his hand over the mare’s neck, he said, “You’re right, Liam. She looks wonderful to be sure. The Abernathy boy has done a good job carin’ for her in my absence.”

  He paused and I waited with a strong sense that Rammel had more to say.

  “Will ye check on me from time to time? As ye did when I was young?”

  “When ye were young?” I laughed. “Rammel Hawking. Ye’re young now!”

  “When I was younger, I mean.”

  “Is something in particular worryin’ ye?”

  He shook his head. “Nothin’ in particular. ‘Tis just that, I plan to do some bow huntin’ and things happen in the woods. I’ll leave the horse in the stable at such times and, should difficulty befall me, I want to know that she will be taken care of.”

  I studied his face, which I would call beleaguered if I had to put a name to it. I decided to tell the truth, plain and simple. “Rammel. You are worryin’ me.”

  “No need,” he answered quickly. “’Tis just that, the older I get, the more I understand that things do no’ always turn out the way we hope or expect.”

  “’Tis true,” I agreed, wantin’ to press him further, but wantin’ more to give him the respect that his age and station deserved. “Someone will check in on you every couple of days. We’ll bring ye some chicken, cheese, wine, and maybe some applesauce put away for such an occasion.”

  He tried to smile, but did no’ quite succeed. “Liam. You should have been everybody’s father,” he said. And I blinked, no’ knowin’ how to respond to such a great compliment as that. He looked down at the bridle reins in his hands and said, “There is a very small chance, no’ really worth mentionin’. But just in case, if a human, a most uncommon lass, comes to the gate, bring her to me. Her name is Lady Elora Laiken.”

  Just like that everything became clear. The boy was actin’ like an elf who’d lost his mate.

  Swingin’ himself up in the saddle, as only young men in the bloom of strength can do, he nodded at me and trotted off into the woods. The snow had stopped soon after it had started so that there was a good dustin’ on the ground, but ‘twas no’ too deep. I looked at the sky and determined that he would have no trouble arrivin’ safely before more weather came in.

  Two days later, I was thinkin’ about my promise to look in on Ram. I was gettin’ old to be traipsin’ back and forth into the forest, but certainly he was on my mind. If I was right about him havin’ found a mate and lost her, I needed to keep a close eye on him. We’d all heard stories of elves simply pinin’ away from grief over bein’ separated from mates.

  I answered the door. O’Craig was standin’ there practically jumpin’ up and down.

  “What are you doin’ there, Colin? Stop that at once.”

  “There’s a lady at the gate, sir. Askin’ for ye.”

  O’Craig looked at me like I was daft when I responded with a big grin. “’Tis good news, Colin.”

  “’Tis?”

  “Aye. The best. Did she say her name was, um, Laiken?”

  “Laiken. Aye. I believe so.”

  “’Tis a fine day,” I said to O’Craig as I hurried along toward the gate with as much speed as a man of my age and girth can muster.

  “Aye, sir. ‘Tis.”

  “Tarnation, man! Open this gate!”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Standin’ there as the hefty gate swung open was as lovely a young lady as anyone ever set eyes on. I knew in an instant that she was right for our boy. An old man has a sense about such things.

  I smiled. “Lady Laiken, welcome to Black-On-Tarry. I’m Liam O’Torvall. Please to call me Liam.” She’d brought two suitcases, which I hefted up and began carryin’ toward the cart I’d planned to take to the cabin. “If we start right away, we shall be there by midday.”

  “How do you do, um, Liam. Is this not my destination?”

  She kept up with me with the effortlessness of youth.

  “Oh no. We’ll be takin’ a cart. I’d been plannin’ to go so ‘tis already laden. ‘Tis some distance to the huntin’ cottage.”

  “A cart?”

  “Aye. This way then.”

  The girl was lookin’ ‘round as if she’d ne’er seen elves before. Likewise, the townspeople were stoppin’ to stare as if they’d never seen a stranger. Well, to be fair, strangers were a very rare occurrence.
‘Twas hard to gain access to the Preserve.

  “Travel by cart is the only way to get to the huntin’ cottage besides walkin’ or ridin’ and either of those would be tricky with your very fine bags with the little wheels. If you were walkin’, you would also need to be wearin’ your wellies on a day such as today. If you were ridin’ you would need a different sort of cloak, would you no’?”

  “I suppose all of that is true.”

  “If you be peckish, we may find a repast to your likin’ before we start away. My wife might possibly be the world’s best cook.”

  She smiled in a most engagin’ way and said, “No. I’m not hungry. Just eager.”

  That made me chuckle and, suddenly, I could hardly wait to get to the cabin. I suspected my passenger carried the cure to all that was ailin’ our lad. Yellow Horse was hitched to the cart just outside the stable. I set her bags in the cart and helped her to her seat.

  I was about to pull myself up beside her when I had an idea.

  “I’ll be back in just a minute.” I went into the stable and put a halter on the young bay geldin’, led him out, and tied the lead to the rear of the cart. She watched with interest, but said nothin’ at all.

  I tried to keep up my end of the conversation, knowin’ that I could accidentally learn a lot by encouragin’ her to talk.

  After a few minutes she said, “Why, may I ask, are we leading the pretty gelding?”

  That told me that she was a horse lover, like Ram, or at least that she knew enough to know he was “pretty”. Indeed he was one of the finest horses ever bred in the Preserve, although no’ as fast or strong as Ram’s mare.

  “Oh. I would no’ leave ye in the forest with just one horse! This three-year-old belongs to your host. Sleek and strong, but good-natured and very gentle. He’ll be givin’ you no trouble at all.” I saw her smirk out of the corner of my eye, which told me that she probably did no’ require a good-natured, gentle horse as many humans do. “And a very fine horseman he is, too.”