Midnight Shadow

by Laurel O'Donnell

  Terran swung himself up onto his horse and entered the tilting field. He rode past her, sitting tall in the saddle, his black eyes locked on her.

  Her eyes swept his confident form. His mastery of his animal far surpassed Garret’s. Bria’s heart beat hard with dread. She thought of racing back to the castle to get her father or grandfather to stop the fight, but by the time she returned, the battle would be over.

  The two opponents went to opposite ends of the field and were handed jousting poles by their squires. They turned their horses and Terran spurred his steed first, heading toward Garret.

  Garret responded in kind, leveling his lance at Terran, driving his horse forward with a firm kick.

  Bria’s mind reeled. It was all happening so fast! The fools weren’t even wearing helmets!

  There was a low thump as Terran’s lance struck Garret in his chest plate. Bria held her breath as Garret dropped his lance and teetered in the saddle. Somehow, he managed to hang on to the reins and stay atop his horse.

  Terran reached the opposite end of the field and glanced over his shoulder. When he saw his opponent was still seated, he grabbed another lance and turned again, relentless in his assault.

  Garret caught his balance and seized a pole from his squire, spurring his horse to meet Terran. The horses’ hooves pounded the earth, dust exploding into the air behind them.

  “Come on, Dysen!” a man called from beside Bria.

  Bria couldn’t tear her eyes from the joust. The pounding of her heart matched the thunder of the horses’ hooves.

  Garret hit Terran hard in the shoulder, knocking Knowles’ lance free.

  Bria gasped. But Terran was not unhorsed. He turned a scathing gaze to Garret.

  A grim smile crossed Garret’s face. Men around the field cheered as he rounded on Terran again, a lance in his hand, readying for the final attack.

  Terran seized the final lance and turned on his opponent. His horse exploded toward Garret. A burning intensity lit Knowles’ gaze. Lowering his head, he gripped the lance tightly, then leaned away from Garret’s thrust and jerked his lance just in time to hit Garret squarely in the stomach.

  It was a brilliant move. If Bria hadn’t been so horrified watching Garret fall backward off his horse and crash head first into the dusty earth, she would have marveled at Knowles’ expertise.

  Garret’s head hit the ground hard and his body crumpled after it. Then everything was still. He lay unmoving.

  Silence encased the yard.

  Terran brought his horse around and threw his lance to the ground.

  For a long moment, Bria couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. “Get up,” she whispered to Garret. But the moment stretched on and Garret still didn’t move. Bria ducked beneath the planks of the fence and raced onto the field.

  Garret’s squire reached his side first and bent to him. Still Garret had not moved.

  Bria couldn’t run fast enough. If I just make it to his side, he‘ll be all right, she told herself.

  As she reached his side, Garret’s squire lifted his head to her and she read confusion and dread in his young blue eyes.

  Bria turned her gaze to Garret. He lay on the ground, his arms out to the sides, one knee lifted as if at any moment he’d get up. Her eyes shifted over his body to his face. She began to tremble and tears filled her eyes.

  Garret’s eyes were wide and glassy, staring blankly up into darkening clouds.

  Behind her, thunder rumbled.

  “No!” The wretched cry tore from her throat as she collapsed to her knees beside him. “Garret!” She lifted her hands to help him, but she didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know what to touch to make him better.

  Bria lifted her shocked, hurt gaze. Panicked, she glanced around her at all the men looking at her. Sympathy, horror, and anger met her gaze. But she didn’t give a damn. Her friend -- her friend, for the love of God -- was dead. There was nothing they could do.

  Finally, she locked eyes with Terran, who stood across from her. She opened her mouth, but the only thing that came out was a sob.

  She rose to her feet, stepping across Garret’s body to confront Terran. “You wretched beast,” she snarled. “You killed him.” She hit his chest with her open palm. “You killed him.” As the tears fell from her eyes, she stared at him, daring him to deny her claim.

  But he simply stood there.

  Finally, Terran turned his back to her and moved out of the practice field. Men parted to let him pass as if he were Death himself walking upon the earth in human form.

  Bria’s chest contracted painfully as a sob shook her body. The tears that had welled in her eyes overflowed, rolling down her cheeks.

  Garret was dead. Mary was dead. How many more of her friends would die because of Terran Knowles? How many more?

  The sky opened up and a heavy rain started to fall.

  Chapter Twelve

  Hurt and rage were still fresh in Bria’s heart. Garret’s death was so pointless, such a waste of a wonderfully promising life.

  She sat quietly alone in her room. She held the black material in steady hands, pulling a stitch through the soft fabric, the battle replaying again and again in her mind. It could have been an accident.

  But Terran’s words echoed in her mind. I will deal with him in a moment. He will be gone by this eve. He’d known what he was doing. He had eliminated his competition with ruthless efficiency.

  Thunder rumbled around her, shaking the entire castle.

  The shock she had initially felt was slowly wearing off. In its place, a fierce anger shrouded her. What right did that man have to think he could just walk into her castle and demand her hand in marriage? Just who did he think he was?

  And he killed my friend to achieve it.

  The thought of his total lack of regard for life made her cold. But she had known that from the beginning from the way he overtaxed and all but starved his own people. What kind of lord was he?

  She pulled through another stitch. It was time someone showed that heartless cur he couldn’t treat people, be they peasant or noble, the way he did and get away with it. It was time to take action.

  There would be no more senseless killings. There would be no more injustices to the people of Knowles. Mary would have wanted it that way.

  Bria pulled the final stitch through the dark black material and stared at her labor. It was one of her finest works. The sewing was precise and sturdy, reinforced by double stitches.

  She set her work on her lap, staring at the dark material. It was perfect. A hooded cloak made of the richest, blackest velvet. Simply perfect.

  Exactly what the Midnight Shadow would wear.

  ***

  Bria stared into Lord Dysen’s watery brown eyes and clasped his old hands tightly, sharing his pain and agony, but her loss could never equal his. He’d lost a son. She’d lost a friend.

  He lifted a hand and placed it on her cheek. “God be with you, child,” he whispered, then turned, his great blue cloak flaring out behind him. He exited the double doors of the keep, moving toward the funeral procession awaiting him. Her father stood near Lord Dysen’s horse, waiting to wish him luck. Hunched against the downpour of rain, they clasped arms. Bria watched them stare into each other’s eyes. They needed no words. Their deep friendship sheltered them from much, but the death of Garret wounded them both.

  There had been talk of bringing Knowles to justice, but as they’d questioned the squires and the spectators around the tilting field, they learned the challenge had been a fair one and the battle had been fought honorably. Garret’s death had been a horrendous accident; he’d taken a bad fall that had broken his neck. Though all the facts pointed to this, Bria refused to believe it. How could she when Knowles had threatened Garret just moments before the joust?

  Her father and Lord Dysen exchanged words, and then Dysen glanced back at Bria, sheltered inside the keep, before mounting his horse and leading the solemn procession toward his homelands.

  I
f no one has the courage to put an end to Knowles’ tyranny, then I will, Bria vowed as she looked at Garret’s coffin resting atop a wooden wagon pulled by two black horses. The conviction she’d felt as she sewed the cloak still burned in her heart, in her very soul. The preparations had been made. All the years of practice with her grandfather would finally be put to use.

  Her father walked slowly up the two steps to the keep and to her side. Together they watched the horses and the wagon carrying Garret’s coffin move off through the gatehouse.

  Her friend. Tears rose in her eyes as she thought of her betrayal of Garret. She hadn’t believed in him, not since he had faced Kenric those many years ago and lost. Not then. Not now. Because she couldn’t keep her distrust of his skills a secret buried deep in her heart, he had faced Terran... and lost. She was a curse to anyone she called a friend.

  Her father brushed a kiss against her temple and moved deeper into the keep.

  Bria continued to watch until the procession had moved out of the castle toward the village and finally out of sight. As the Dysen entourage disappeared on the horizon, a fork of lightning erupted in the sky and wormed its way through the darkness, lighting the courtyard.

  Across the courtyard, next to the blacksmith’s shop, Bria spotted a dark form. As she watched, another spear of lightning flashed through the sky, washing over Terran Knowles before leaving him in shadow again. Bria’s jaw clenched and she raced out into the blackness of the storm toward him, running beneath the awning that sheltered him from the rain.

  She stared at him for a long moment, studying his black eyes, the scowl lining his forehead. His thick hair fell wet and heavy over his cheeks. “What are you doing out here?” she demanded. “How dare you offend Garret’s family by spying?”

  Terran’s jaw clenched.

  “Isn’t it enough that you murdered him? Must you defile his procession, too?”

  Terran seized her shoulders and slammed her up against the blacksmith’s shop. “Enough!” he roared. “Enough of your insults. I have endured them from your father and grandfather, even from Dysen. But I will not tolerate them from you.”

  Bria’s mouth dropped open for only a moment before her shock vanished, replaced by fury. She opened her mouth to reply, but Terran slammed his open palms on the wall on either side of her.

  “I said enough!”

  For a long moment, Bria could do nothing but stare at him. And slowly, a realization came to her. She was alone with him. And he was close, very close. His hands were on either side of her, effectively trapping her. His lips were but inches from hers. Her eyes scanned his face, his rugged square jaw, his sensual lips, his dark eyes. Lightning lit the sky above, but Bria barely noticed except for the reflection in his eyes. Was that remorse in them? Or was she imagining it?

  He leaned closer to her until his face was beside hers, almost cheek to cheek. Bria stiffened. What was he doing? But she didn’t protest. His hair brushed and mingled with hers. “I didn’t mean to kill him, Bria.”

  She felt a soft wave of hot breath on her neck, but his words were so soft Bria wasn’t sure he’d spoken them at all. She turned her head to try to see him, and he shifted his gaze to look into hers with eyes that seemed a little lost.

  In the next moment, he was brushing his lips against hers, seeking, exploring. She was unsure of what to do and found herself frozen, half wanting him to kiss her, half wanting to flee. His touch was gentle, almost soothing. Not at all what she had expected.

  He pulled slightly back to look into her eyes, studying them as if waiting for her to deny him.

  But she couldn’t. She didn’t want to.

  He cupped her neck and pulled her to him, claiming her lips with a more urgent need. A fierce, reckless desire seared through her. His arms pulled her tight against the length of his body.

  Her world spun out of control. He coaxed her lips open to his exploration and when his tongue entered her mouth, warring with her own, Bria felt the ground rumble beneath her feet.

  He kissed her fully, expertly exploring every part of her mouth. Then he pulled slowly away, ending the kiss, leaving her weak and confused.

  He stepped back, taking his strength and support with him.

  Bria’s knees buckled and she almost fell, but he reached out to steady her. Humiliated and awed by her reaction to his kiss, she expected to look up and see him laughing at her. But when she gazed into his eyes, she found no laughter there. He appeared just as baffled as she.

  Before Bria could comment, he turned away from her and walked across the courtyard. He did not hunch against the rain, and as if by his command, the downpour faded to a light mist. Bria stared after him. Her heart was still floating in her chest, her body strangely separated from her mind. She knew she should feel ashamed and manipulated, but she didn’t. She’d enjoyed his kiss. And what scared her the most was that she wanted to feel his lips against hers again.

  Suddenly, Bria saw a dark shadow moving across the deserted courtyard. She recognized the figure immediately as he began to slowly climb the stairs toward the castle walkway. What is he doing?

  Bria glanced at the sky and the dark storm clouds once more before hunching her shoulders against the weather and heading out toward the stairway. She sloshed through the puddles and mud of the courtyard, racing toward the stairs. He shouldn’t be out in the rain, Bria thought.

  Bria held a hand up to protect her eyes and saw the shadow pause at one of the crenels. She ran up the stairs, slipping once on a slick stone, but quickly righting herself and moving after him. As she approached him, she saw he was staring out at the fields just beyond the walls. Bria looked out over the battlements, following his gaze, trying to see what he was looking at.

  Looming on the field, marring its perfect green grass, were the white tents of Lord Knowles and his followers. His red flag drooped beneath the rain.

  Bria glanced back at the man. “Grandfather,” she called over the loud whistle of a sudden gust of wind. “You shouldn’t be out here,” she added as she reached his side.

  “Bria,” he answered, and she heard the utter agony in his voice. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s all right.” She tried to soothe him, blinking back the rain as it splashed her face. “Let’s go inside and we’ll talk about it.” She gently tugged his arm.

  But he remained motionless. “You don’t understand, child,” he said softly. “This is all my fault.”

  “Don’t be silly,” she replied. “I can’t –”

  “But I’m going to stop it,” he said. “You won’t have to marry someone like him.” He stared with icy eyes at the white tents below.

  Bria shuddered at her grandfather’s cold tone. She removed her hand from his arm, trying to see into his eyes. “What have you done, Grandfather?”

  Thunder crashed around them, shaking the castle.

  Harry turned his eyes toward the tents. Bria followed his gaze. He was waiting for something to happen. But what? She held her breath, anticipating the worst, expecting the sound of agony or the scream of murder. But for a long moment, nothing happened.

  Bria began to doubt the intent in her grandfather’s words. Maybe she’d misread the threat in his voice.

  But then, suddenly, she saw a man running frantically from the rear of Lord Knowles’s tent toward Castle Delaney. Confusion and trepidation flared to life inside Bria. She anxiously brushed the water from her eyes. What had her grandfather done?

  Suddenly, bright flames erupted up the back of one of the white tents, dancing in defiance against the rain.

  “No,” Bria gasped. She looked at her grandfather and saw a satisfied grin on his lips. “No,” she repeated.

  Flames burst to life behind another tent, then another.

  Bria turned and ran across the walkway and down the stairs. She raced through the courtyard toward the inner gatehouse and then the outer gatehouse. She slipped once, falling in the mud, and then climbed to her feet. She shouted orders to the outer gatehouse guards
to bring buckets of water before running into the fields toward the burning tents.

  As she approached, she saw the fire had grown to engulf most of the tents. Men, coughing and hacking from the heat and black smoke, were milling about. Bria headed for the first tent. The flames snapped and cracked, reaching toward her. She stumbled back beneath the heat, holding a hand before her face. She glanced at the other men -- servants, by the looks of their clothing -- and shouted, “Is anyone in there?”

  Their befuddled looks caused her to take action. She dove into the tent, screaming over the roar of the fire, “Is anyone in here?”

  Through the thickening black smoke, Bria saw a pile of blankets. She dropped to her knees and crawled over to it, feeling around beneath them, but the blankets were empty.

  The thick smoke encircled her, trying to cut off her air. She coughed and lifted her arm to her nose, trying to breathe through the fabric of her dress. Her eyes watered and she brushed at them with the palms of her hands. She turned to leave, only then realizing that the black smoke was hiding the exit.

  Panic welled within her, but she fought it down, desperately searching for escape. Above her, the roar of the fire reached a crescendo and she looked up to see that the fire had already engulfed the top part of the tent. With a loud rumble, the entire tent began to shake.

  A scream welled in Bria’s throat. A burning piece of wood landed beside her, making her leap to her feet.

  Suddenly, from out of the black smoke, a dark shape emerged. It was the devil himself, his eyes glowing red. She reared back, but he caught her arm and hauled her into the smoke and the burning walls.

  Chapter Thirteen