by Brenda Joyce
Comprehension filled Claire’s eyes. “You must have fallen in love with an older Royce—because he’s not dead now.”
“His fourteen-hundred-year-old self and then some,” Allie said. “He’s got exactly five hundred and seventy-seven years left.”
A maid appeared with bread, cheese and wine. Claire thanked her and the maid inclined her head, murmuring, “My lady,” before casting a quick, curious glance at Allie.
“You seem to have adjusted really well to the whole demonic thing. It took me a while—I was freaked out to learn evil was a race,” Claire said when the maid was gone.
Allie shook her head. “I’ve been fighting demons for years, since I was a kid.” Claire started. “But I’m a Healer first and last. I only fight because they get in the way of my healing.”
“I thought I felt a power coming from you,” Claire said, eyes wide.
“Healing is my destiny. I can heal pretty much anyone, anytime,” Allie said seriously. “It’s what I’m meant to do.” Then she thought of the young girl she’d tried to bring back to life—and the modern Royce, dying in her arms. “But I can’t raise the dead.”
A pause fell. “How did you wind up here?”
Allie sighed. “I fell in love with Royce in my time. When he died, I conned Aidan into taking me back here, to him in the past. It’s a huge coincidence, but when I first met Royce, he’d come from 1430, and Aidan had followed him. So when Aidan went home, I went with him.” She added, “Royce was awful when I first got here. But then we saved a boy from a rockslide and we fought demons together and we even made love. Now I don’t want to go home. I can’t go back to a future without Royce. And I can’t leave Mr. Medieval behind, either. He needs me—they both do.”
Claire was wide-eyed. “So you are planning to stay in the fifteenth century?”
Allie hesitated. “For now. The only thing I’m certain of is that I have to figure out how to vanquish Moffat so he doesn’t murder Royce on September 7, 2007.”
Claire gasped. “The bishop of Moffat murdered Royce?”
Allie tensed. “And he may be after me. How bad is he?”
“Bad. Extremely ambitious and well-connected—he claims a distant kinship with the Queen. And he is power-mad. I guess the deamhanain want to turn you—or force you to use your power for their ends.”
“I can’t be turned,” Allie said, meaning it.
“Allie, you don’t want to go head-to-head with Moffat.”
“No, I don’t. You sound as if you’re speaking from experience.”
“In a way, I am. Malcolm and I vanquished the earl of Moray, against all odds. He’d preyed on Innocence in Alba for a thousand years, but somehow, we did it, together. However, that was after he took me prisoner. It’s something I prefer to forget.”
“I’m sorry,” Allie whispered.
A strange look passed across Claire’s face as she reached for the jug of wine. “How about a glass of wine?”
“Sure. What is it?” Allie asked with some alarm. “Why does the name Moray still bring dread and fear to your eyes?”
Claire grimaced. “I sometimes dream about him. Three years ago I wasn’t even sure we’d vanquished him—I expected him to come back. But everyone said that even if he did, he’d leave Malcolm and me alone—we’re too powerful and he’d avoid that kind of confrontation again. We’re even more powerful now,” Claire added. “Three years ago Malcolm was new to his powers, and I didn’t even know I had any.”
Allie had a bad feeling, too. “You don’t believe he’s gone.”
Claire hesitated. “It’s not Malcolm or myself I worry about.”
“Then who?”
“Aidan.”
Allie jerked. “Why would you worry about Aidan?”
Claire was surprised. “No one told you? Malcolm and Aidan share the same mother, but not the same father. He is Moray’s son.”
Allie could not believe that Aidan was the son of a demon. “He’s a Master.”
“Yes, he is. But in case you haven’t noticed, he is a bit of a renegade. I worry about him. That charming facade hides a lot of conflict,” Claire said. “On the surface he seems like a playboy who can’t help gratifying himself, but he will always come through for the gods, for Innocence. He is afraid, Allie, afraid of what his father’s legacy to him might be.”
Allie absorbed that. “Well, his aura isn’t evil and if it’s even slightly tainted, I haven’t noticed.” She was firm. But his power was different—she’d sensed that, but hadn’t really understood it. She let it go. It didn’t matter—he was her Knight of Swords.
“If you worship the gods,” Claire said, “then you believe in Fate.”
Allie knew where she was leading. “I do. But it is not Royce’s Fate to die in 2007. That was a mistake.”
Claire was silent, clearly not believing her.
“I know all about the dumb Code,” Allie added. “I’m not a Master and I have no intention of following the rules.”
Claire smiled. “I’m not a Master, either, just the daughter of one. How can I help?”
Allie leaned forward eagerly. “Just think about how to best vanquish Moffat now, so he can’t murder Royce in 2007. He was dressed in modern clothes—he might have been a modern man, too.” And the only reason she couldn’t be certain was that the medieval Aidan ran around in Levi’s when he chose.
“Let’s hope he was from the future,” Claire said softly, “so we can destroy him now and save Royce then.”
Allie was so relieved to have an ally. “I hate to ask you, but maybe you shouldn’t mention this to your husband. I have no idea what happens when a Master breaks the rules, but he might not be on our side.”
Claire laughed. “He’s always on my side, but don’t worry, I won’t say anything until I have to.”
Allie hesitated. She’d come to Dunroch for assistance, which she was getting, but she also needed answers. “Royce was afraid of your relationship with Malcolm at first.”
“He told you that?”
“Yeah, he did.”
Claire said, “Royce is a very hardened soldier, Allie. He’s lived through centuries, and he’s seen it all.”
“Is that a warning?”
“You could have picked someone easier to love.”
Allie almost smiled. “No kidding.” Then she spoke seriously. “Maybe the reason Royce is so hard and cold—and so alone—is his past and his wife.”
“I know he was married, but it was long ago, and I don’t know any details.”
Their gazes met. “Damn,” Allie said. “I know that something terrible happened to his wife and he is still suffering because of it.”
Claire said softly, “Ask Malcolm.”
ALLIE FOUND MALCOLM outside with Royce, standing on the ramparts looking out over the Atlantic Ocean. She paused. The two men, standing above her in their leines and plaids, with the sun trying to emerge from the windswept, gray skies, were a magnificent sight. Her heart turned over a dozen times as she stared at Royce. Why didn’t he want to be healed? And she wondered if his pain had something to do with his willingness to die in the future. It was a startling and dismal thought.
He turned and glanced down at her.
Allie hurried up the stone steps. “Hi.” She smiled at both men. “Am I interrupting?”
Malcolm seemed bemused, but Royce looked wary. “Lady Allie, we have finished our conversation.” He clasped Royce’s arm. “Yer woman wishes a word with me, I think.”
Royce’s gaze slid over Allie’s top and jeans. “Dinna think to seduce him to yer cause. He’s very fond o’ his wife.”
Allie smiled at him. “You’re my cause. And the only man I wish to seduce,” she added.
Royce scowled.
“Besides, I really like it here. I am going to think of this as a vacation. Iona is a mile or two from here. It’s holy ground and Claire has already offered to take me there.” They hadn’t even discussed it. “So even if you change your mind, I can’t go back
to Carrick with you,” she lied lightly. “Not yet.”
Royce appeared alarmed. He flushed. “Malcolm has agreed ye can stay at Dunroch. There’ll be no visits to the Sanctuary.”
Allie was taken aback. This was odd—and interesting. Why would Royce refuse to allow her a visit? Iona was holy. Her mother had lived there for centuries.
“She stays here,” Royce said to Malcolm, as if his nephew were a foot soldier. “Until I decide otherwise.” He leapt down the first few steps and then leapt again into the ward.
Malcolm chuckled.
“What was that about?” Allie asked, remaining bewildered. But now, she shivered. It was freezing high up on the walls, exposed to the blasting Atlantic winds.
“He be jealous. Green, in fact.” Malcolm laughed again, guiding her down the stairs.
“He’s jealous of what? A bunch of monks worshiping the Ancients?”
“Ah, lass, the Masters often sojourn on the isle, an’ I think he dinna wish for ye to have a choice of other men.”
Allie straightened, keenly interested now. Hadn’t her modern Royce mentioned he’d taken his vows on the island? And of course Iona would be the perfect sanctuary, as no demon ever tread upon holy ground. Did Royce really think she’d become interested in another man if she went there?
Allie walked to a stone bench and sat, cross-legged. If she needed to provoke Royce by going to Iona, she just might do so.
Malcolm came and sat beside her. “Yer man has asked me to keep ye here an’ to protect ye while he hunts Moffat.”
“I know.” Allie stopped smiling. “But I’m not staying. Sorry! Dunroch is wonderful, but my place is at Carrick with Royce. He needs me.”
Malcolm simply studied her, his gaze searching. “Ye have a good power, Lady. Even sitting next to ye, I be calm an’ soothed. I agree—my uncle needs yer light.”
“So you’ll tell Royce you won’t let me stay here?”
Malcolm sighed. “Lady Allie, I canna deny Royce. He’s more father to me than uncle. I vowed to keep ye an’ protect ye. I must do so.”
Allie was dismayed. “Then I have to work on Royce. How long do I have? When is he leaving?”
“He’ll leave in the morn. Aye, work yer wiles. T’will be interesting to see who’s stronger—I dinna think he can resist ye for too long.”
Allie was encouraged. But she said, “I hope he told you why he’s hunting Moffat?”
“Aye.”
“Did he tell you about his death?”
“Aye. I willna lie, Lady. I have grave worries now. Royce be more powerful than Moffat, but power doesna matter if his Fate is written otherwise.”
Allie hugged her knees to her chest. Everyone seemed to think that Royce was going to die on September 7, 2007, no matter what. Well, let them be pessimists. She was an optimist and proud of it, and more importantly, she never gave up. She wasn’t going to start now. He simply couldn’t die that day.
“I see ye care for my blackhearted uncle.”
“I love him,” Allie said. “Even when he is in his Mad Max mode.”
Malcolm seemed bewildered by that. “an’ ye wish to ken what?”
“I want to know what happened to his wife, when it happened and why he is suffering from so much guilt—and if he is in love with a ghost.”
Malcolm stood. “Ye need to ask Royce such great questions!”
“He won’t talk about her.” Grim, she said, “He loved her, didn’t he? Royce loved a woman with his heart and soul.” She was so dismayed admitting what she’d been secretly afraid of.
Malcolm hesitated. “Royce has never spoken of his wife. T’was long ago.”
Allie bit her lip. “Am I a fool to hope he’ll ever love me that way?”
Malcolm clasped her shoulder. “Lass, heed me. Royce was a boy of three an’ twenty when he wed. He be a man over eight hundred years old now. Why do ye care about the past?”
Allie pulled away and hugged herself. He’d been so young! She hadn’t realized. “Royce loved me in the future. Maybe he can’t love me right now, but there’s a connection, and it’s not just sex.”
Malcolm flushed.
“He cares. He’s proved it—once or twice.” She wiped her eyes. “What happened to his wife? Malcolm, please.”
Malcolm caved. “A great deamhan seized her, tortured her, raped her—for days, maybe weeks, I dinna ken. Royce finally rescued her—an’ handed her to another man, breaking their marriage. Most Masters live alone, Lady Allie. There be a reason the Code requires it. Royce gave up his wife to protect her.”
“Oh gods,” Allie whispered. “Poor Royce.” She sat abruptly, wanting to cry for him. “You have Claire!”
“Aye, an’ I love her greatly. But she’s the daughter of a great Master.”
“I’m Elasaid’s daughter!” Allie cried.
Malcolm sighed. “Lass, I be young, just eight an’ twenty. T’was easy for me to give over to Claire. I dinna ken if Royce loved Brigdhe or if he cared as any husband should. But I dinna think he will ever allow himself to be too fond of any woman again. Are ye certain that in the future he said he loved ye?”
Allie looked up. She was about to say, “Hell yeah,” but she stopped. The realization was dreadful. Royce had never said those three words, not even with his last dying breath.
Malcolm looked at her with pity. “I dinna think my uncle capable of the love ye want, lass. He’s hard, aye, but he’s older now—an’ tired.”
And that, Allie thought, explained why he’d wanted to die.
CHAPTER TEN
“DO YE WISH TO GO inside?” Malcolm asked, his tone kind.
Allie was about to refuse. She wanted to sit and think about Royce and his past—and about the present and their future. But before she could even smile at him, a terrible foreboding fell over her.
Dark power.
Allie sat up, alarmed. She had never felt such a huge and impending sense of evil before.
“Lady Allie?”
Allie was on her feet. She didn’t look at Malcolm. Evil was coming, like the black clouds blown in before a terrific storm, but this was a cloud of death. The demon or demons had stunning reserves of power. For one moment, Allie was unmoving.
“What happens?” Malcolm asked sharply.
Allie glanced at him and saw that he was alarmed. “There is evil coming. Give me a moment.”
“I sense nothing!” he said swiftly.
Allie turned away from him, focusing entirely on the approaching darkness, the foreshadowing of destruction and death. Dark and malignant, steadfast and intent…the shadows were marching…like men, overland…from the north. Allie finally realized what was coming and she cried out.
She faced Malcolm. “Thirty or forty demons are approaching! But they are not alone. Malcolm, I am certain hundreds of humans are with them—all of them possessed, all with demonic power. And there are animals, too.”
Malcolm’s eyes widened. “A demonic army attacks Dunroch?”
Allie nodded, aghast. “They’re coming from the north—and if my senses work in this time the way they do at home, you have a half an hour to prepare.”
Malcolm had already turned away, shouting to the watch on the small gatehouse tower, and bells began ringing. The entire compound broke into frenzied activity. Allie had been confronting and fighting demons her entire life, but very rarely had she ever run into a gang of them—and then, she’d wisely fled. Usually they perpetrated their crimes of pleasure and death solo.
Men appeared on the walls dragging large, man-size bows into defensive positions; others began rushing up to the ramparts, while fires were started in her ward and elsewhere. Allie came to her senses—the castle was preparing for an attack, and she had to help. She ran through the gatehouse after Malcolm and into the inner ward.
His knights were appearing, some of the Highlanders in chain mail, others in nothing but their leines and plaids, everyone heavily armed. Now, from where she stood, she saw more archers and knights appearing on th
e walls and the curtain towers. The outer bailey was a bit below where she stood and she saw a wooden machine being wheeled into position, near a huge pile of large rocks. The machine would clearly catapult the rocks over the walls at the enemy.
The darkness was coming, and rapidly.
“Ailios!”
Allie whirled in relief as Royce rushed toward her, Claire following. “Royce, thirty or forty demons are approaching from the north—and they have an army of possessed humans with them.”
He seized her arm, a look of alarm on his face. An instant later it was gone.
“An army of demons is preparing to attack Dunroch?” Claire gasped. “This is unheard of!”
“They want Ailios,” Royce said, staring at her.
Her heart lurched, not because of his words, but from the cold, hard look in his eye. But this was the moment they needed Royce at his worst.
“Will they really besiege us?” Claire cried. “Dear God, even the humans can cross the moat and scale the walls with their demonic power, no matter what we throw at them, but the higher demons can leap inside the walls.”
Instantly, Allie understood that the higher demons could time travel. Right now, a bunch of them were probably leaping ahead by thirty minutes or so and would land within Dunroch’s walls as the fight began.
“They intend to distract the entire garrison with a full attack so one of them can take Ailios,” Royce said swiftly. “Dunroch canna be defended as if this is a genuine siege. Claire, pass the word to every man—he must watch his back. Our defenses are breached the moment the battle begins.”
Claire ran in Malcolm’s direction.
Allie realized, in shock, that a huge battle was about to unfold so she could be captured. Her gut roiled. “Are you certain? Royce, why would they go to all this trouble to get me?” she cried.
“Have they not tried to capture you almost daily since the south of Hampton?” he said grimly. “Moffat has planned this since that day, because the march would take that long.”
Allie felt ill. “How bad will this be?”
“We canna keep the true deamhanain out o’ Dunroch unless we anoint the grounds with holy water an’ prayers, but there’s no time. If the deamhanain wish to get inside, they will. Sooner, nay later,” he added darkly. “Someone will try to seize ye in the midst o’ fierce fightin’.” His eyes blazed.
