Celtic Peril (Celtic Storm Book 6)

by Ria Cantrell

  He pulled her into him, crushing her in his embrace while he took her mouth in a plundering kiss. Despite the hard mail hauberk he wore, he could feel the softness of her body pressing against him. He held her securely and said, “I want you so badly right now.”

  Smiling into his face she said, “Then be with me.”

  “Oh Jenna, I want that. I need it, too, but I can’t. I wish I could explain, but I must not right now.”

  “But ye’ said ye’ trust me. Why can ye’ nay tell me what is troublin’ ye’? Is it because of my brother?”

  “No, love. Believe me, nothing your brother could say would make me not wish to be with you. And as for trusting you, I do. With my life, it seems, but there is danger afoot and I would not have you be part of it, if I can help it. Men from my time still protect their women when they can.”

  Those words struck a chord within her. “Am I yer’ woman then, Tavish MacCollum?”

  “Well, that is as much your decision as it is mine, I think. What do you think? Are you my woman?”

  With large eyes, suddenly filled with tears, Jenna nodded. Tom watched as a fat tear rolled down her cheek and he pressed it away with his thumb. “Hey now. What’s this?”

  “Ye’ did nay tell me I was yer woman, but ye’ let me decide fer’ myself.”

  “Well, that’s what you want, isn’t it? To make your own choices?”

  Again she nodded and two more tears trekked down her face. “Well, then, there is no need for tears.”

  “I’m just happy, Tavish. I ne’er thought I could find someone who would let me be who I am.”

  “I would not have you any other way. I’m not going to try to change you, Jenna.”

  “Nor will I to ye’.”

  “Then you have to let me do what I need to do and hopefully all will be fine by tomorrow.”

  “I dunna’ like the sound of that, Tavish. Please promise me ye’ are nay puttin’ yerself in danger.”

  “I wish I could promise that, but I cannot. But know that I am prepared and I will be aided by someone who will guide me the entire way. You must not worry, okay?”

  “I can nay promise that as much as ye’ can nay promise to be out of harm’s way.”

  “No, I suppose you can’t, can you?”

  Tom kissed Jenna again and said, “Now, though I hate to leave you, I need to prepare myself for that which calls for my aid tomorrow. My bed will seem cold without you, love.”

  Jenna realized how much she loved this man. It was insane, but he did not want her to be who she was not. For that alone, she would love him! She did not know what trouble was afoot, but it could be any number of things with a royal guest in residence. Perhaps he knew something had already happened and he felt obligated to try to prevent it. Jenna knew enough about the mystical world to not question it too deeply. The fact that he wanted to protect her, despite her fight for independence, was endearing. Most of the men she knew would fight to protect their women. His woman; now she had declared that she was his woman from her own mindset.

  With a final kiss goodnight, she watched Tavish head toward his quarters. She said a silent prayer to keep her newly found love safe and she turned away to take her meal alone in her rooms. Kiera was, no doubt, eating at high table and so Jenna grabbed some bread and cheese and went off to her own chambers. She really needed some time alone to think. If Tavish was going to do something to protect her, she needed to know that he was going to be safe. She had a feeling it had something to do with the hunt on the morrow. She needed to think what she could do to help. After all, Tavish was not really used to things of this time. Surely, she would be of use somehow.

  Jenna found she was not very hungry all of a sudden. Placing her plate of food down upon the chest at the foot of her bed, she paced her quarters while all sorts of plans ran through her mind. The matter was settled. She was going to help Tavish in whatever task that was at hand. Besides, she had been cooped up long enough. She loved the thrill of the hunt and she would see to it that she could ride out after the party. She was an excellent horsewoman after all, and she knew all the shortcuts. She would soon be able to catch up, she was quite certain.

  With her plans forming in her head, Jenna started to calm down. It was not like her to sit by and let things unfold around her. The things that Tavish had told her did not sit well with her and now that she had the basis of a solution, she was able to relax. Aye, she would be there and if it meant she could aid in the situation whatever that was, so be it. In truth, nothing could have kept her away.

  ~

  Chapter Forty-Five ~

  As the first rays of sunlight peeked over the treetops, the riders were readying for the hunt. Though it had not snowed, frost covered the ground and the day was chillingly cold. Vapor swirled from the nostrils of the horses as they shifted from hoof to hoof in wait of the signal to charge forward into the dawning hillside.

  De la Pole sat astride his dark stallion and was always arms-length away from Richard. The king’s guards were not far behind and they seemed to form a protective semicircle around him. De la Pole knew that once the horn had sounded, that cone of protection would be useless, for the pandemonium of the hunt would send horses and riders flying in all directions on the scent of the hapless creature that would meet its end that day. He felt the lifting of the corners of his lips as he envisioned the royal creature’s life blood spilling upon the frosted earth.

  Caleb and Tom hung back, watching as the large group of revelers got in line for the hunt. Tom’s hand flexed above the hilt of the sword he wore strapped to his side as if to assure himself that it was just inches away from his grasp. Caleb said, “Lad, ye’ve trained well. Ye’ will know what to do, when the time comes.”

  “I wish I had been training for years, Laird Caleb. There is a lot I still do not know.”

  “Ye’ know enough. It is in yer’ blood, lad. I am sure of it.”

  Tom nodded, in thanks at the compliment from the old laird. He suspected that Caleb MacCollum was not one to give out such things tritely. Tom was all the more grateful for Caleb’s encouragement, for clearly he was a man of few words and it seemed like a treasure to behold his confidence. If only Tom believed it wholeheartedly himself. So much was at stake right now; the least of it was his ability to hold his own in a fray.

  “Keep yer’ wits about ye’, lad. There is no time now for ponderin’. Eyes and ears sharpened, aye? Leave yer’ misgivings behind.”

  Tom wasn’t sure he would ever get used to the way Caleb seemed to read his thoughts. These people were so tied to the mystical realm and Tom hoped that someday, he would fully understand that power.

  The riders filed through the gates and clattered over the drawbridge. Tom saw them charge forth at the blare of a horn and it was with great effort that he held his mount back. He had ridden horses a bunch of times in his life, but this was quite different. Not only that, he had to worry about using a big old sword while being spanked silly on the back of the spirited beast. Again, Caleb said, “Mind yer’ thoughts, lad. Ye’ can do this.”

  Tom sat a little straighter in his saddle. He wanted Caleb MacCollum to be proud of him. This was more than just hunting down a foe. Tom’s credibility with the clan suddenly seemed more important than anything he had ever faced. He had no doubt why. It was because of Jenna. Of course, it was because of her. He wanted her to be proud of him, too. Her family was a strong legion of warriors and Tom felt a little more than prompted to prove himself amid their might. He did not know what was to come of his relationship with Jenna, but while he was here in this time, he had to make every moment with her count. Now, it was about saving the face of the clan and saving the king, if he could.

  The two men followed at a slower pace only to lag behind enough to not be noticed too much. As the hunting party veered over the first rise in the land, they were clearly on the scent of something, but Tom and Caleb had other ideas on which way to go. Hanging back, they were able to take a turn behind a copse of trees a
nd ride around the opposite side of the loch. The air seemed to crackle with both chilling cold and electricity. Tom could taste a metallic sort of spark behind his teeth and though he was on an important mission, he could not prevent his heart from pounding wildly in his chest. He breathed in the crisp cold air, as it frosted into his lungs and he felt the calming effect of the beauty before him. It was as if this pristine wilderness suddenly gave him clarity in things he had not even realized were clouded before.

  Caleb led the way to the famed outcropping which McManus had mentioned. This was where he had planned to ambush the king, but Tom and Caleb would have a surprise for the man as they planned an ambush of their own. Tom knew they would have to beat the trek of Michael de la Pole to the designated assassination spot and so they could not afford to dally too long. Tom was hard-pressed to keep up with Caleb’s expert horsemanship, but he was holding his own. If only they were not on some dire mission. Tom would have liked to enjoy the ride into the Scottish countryside with the man he greatly respected. He felt honored that the great laird of the clan had given him so much time and merit.

  Above the thundering hooves of their horses, Caleb shouted that they were approaching the spot. They would have to tether the horses at a distance from the outcropping so that they could sneak up on Jerome McManus. Preferably, they would have him meet his demise before the king and his lackey showed up.

  Leaping down from the back of the great warhorse, Caleb patted his lathered withers and neck and spoke softly in Gaelic to the animal. He quieted it with a few words as he led it to be tied behind some bushes and low ground covering brush. Tom followed suit and once the horses were secure, they started to carefully make their way up toward the precipice.

  The climb was steeper than it looked from the distance and Caleb tried to keep the looser gravel from sliding down. He wanted nothing to alert the henchmen of their presence. Caleb thought that the best place for hiding was below the outcropping of jagged rock, where the rise leveled and formed a bit of a cave. It wasn’t much of a cave really, only a hollow cut out of the overhanging ridge. That was where MacManus, no doubt lay in wait for the king’s arrival. Caleb motioned for Tom to be as silent as possible and he pointed to the overhanging stone. He mouthed, “In there,” and Tom knew that every sound could be magnified here in this place. He practically tiptoed toward the edge but could see no one hiding. He knew that if MacManus was there, he would clearly keep out of view. He was, no doubt right beneath him.

  As Tom looked out from his position on top of the table of rock, he could see the riders far below in the valley, all following suit of the leader of the hunt. He could not make out who was who but his eyes caught sight of a lone rider bringing up the rear. He could tell by the way the hood was pulled up over the rider’s face that it was a woman. When the wind whipped the hood back, dark auburn hair tumbled out like a banner behind her. No! It could not be! But as Tom looked again, and saw the girl charging through to make up for her later start, Tom knew. It was Jenna. What the hell did she think she was doing? Tom had to force the gasp from his mouth lest he give their position away, but he gripped the arm of Caleb and he pointed toward the riding party far below them. Caleb’s eyes widened in alarm. He said as quietly as possible, “Ye’ need to go back. She canna’ be anywhere near this.”

  Tom was at a loss. He could not leave Caleb to fight the renegade alone but he could not rightly let Jenna throw herself into the midst of the assassination plot. He shook his head. “There is no choice. Ye’ have to go. I’ll handle this.”

  “I can’t let you do this.”

  “Lad, I’ve been around a long time for a reason. Go, and lead that girl to safety.”

  Despite their hushed voices, it had not been enough to go undetected. Without even a snap of a twig, they found themselves facing de la Pole’s hired assassin.

  “Well, well. Do my eyes deceive me? I had thought ye’ to be dead a long time already, Old Man.”

  Tom watched as Caleb’s eyes narrowed on Jerome McManus’ silhouette.

  “So, it was ye’ after all. I thought ye’ had finally met yer’ just rewards.”

  McManus laughed maniacally and said, “Nay. I have been refinin’ my skills since last we met. I was sloppy, that day and should have ended yer’ life when I took the Campbell harlot. I have never been so careless since. I will no’ be today.”

  As quick as a blink of an eye, Tom saw a flash glint in the sunlight and in a matter of seconds, Caleb dropped to the ground. Scarlet pooled rapidly on the semi-frozen earth beneath him. The evil bastard had flung a dagger like a knife thrower and hit Caleb just under the ribcage. Tom did not even have a chance to think. He drew his sword from its scabbard at his hip and he charged forward, swinging the heavy blade with all his might. A cry of anguish split the silence of the glade as Tom was prepared to remove McManus’ head from his body, but he underestimated the foe’s fighting ability.

  With mere side steps, he danced away from the charge and with a taunting laugh he jeered at Tom’s efforts. With each thrust, McManus dodged the potential blow. Every swing of the sword, caused Tom’s muscles to strain but he was undaunted. He circled McManus with deadly purpose. All the while, the man laughed at his attempts and called him vile things. He ridiculed Tom’s efforts and made a mockery of each arc of the blade. Tom had dealt with bullies before, albeit none so deadly as the one before him, but he was not going to be distracted from his purpose. Tom feinted a jab and McManus over-corrected to avoid the potential strike. McManus’ feet slid on the slick pebbles that still were coated with the light frozen dew.

  Tom was going to use that stumble to his advantage. He pushed forward, swinging his sword high above his head. He thought to cleave the man in two, but was met with a parry of his own. Steel clanged loudly through the quiet of the valley and it echoed sharply in Tom’s ears. The aftershock of it reverberated into Tom’s arm and he thought his shoulder would come clean away from his body. Gritting his teeth, he was not going to be bested by this man. He had to fight so he could save the king and possible to save Caleb.

  He glanced over at the man who he had grown to admire so much in such a short time and he saw that he had gone very still. His color was ashen and his eyes seemed glazed. Dammit, Tom could not help him now. Presently, he had to finish what he had come to do. He struck again, wielding the sword with a ferocity that he had not even known he possessed. He pushed through the pain that radiated down his entire arm so that it was nearly numb and he continued slashing toward McManus. The man was not laughing any longer. He was concentrating on getting his footing and he had one other thing on his mind. He wanted the blood of this highlander to spill alongside of the old man’s. His mouth curled in a deadly sneer and he came closer to Tom. He began swinging his sword so that it whirred and whooshed through the air, creating a frightening sound. Tom knew he was not as skilled but he would be damned if he let fear pull him down. He tried to still that place that shouted with fright inside his chest as the deadly moan of the sword sounded way too close to his ear. When he had been afraid as a child, he always thought about the girl who had come so many times to him in his dreams. He thought of her now and a placid calm came over him. It was in strong contrast to the adrenaline coursing through his veins, but this was a quiet that resonated in his mind. It took away any fears and he was able to focus solely on the opponent before him.

  As Jerome McManus pushed closer again, Tom held firmly to his spot. He was nearer to the edge of the outcropping than he wanted to be, but any step forward would lead him straight into the tip of McManus’ blade. Gripping his sword with both arms, he held it firm before him. Tom pulled at his strength and as his legs planted widely on either side of his hips, he felt the solid stone beneath his feet. His gaze never wavered from the twisted features of the enraged foe before him. It was like the man had become a demon in front of his very eyes, but Tom still quieted any fear. Now, it was time for McManus’ black soul to meet its destiny. Tom just had to hold his ground a lit
tle longer. Tom could see that his foe’s wrath had gone unchecked and actually it was making him lose his edge. As Tom looked as if he were frozen in fear, he was actually calibrating each step that McManus took, closing the distance between them. When McManus finally lunged toward Tom, with a fierce cry of lethal purpose, Tom slowly raised his sword. Both fists tightened and he could feel every muscle tense up his arms and into his chest. McManus was so sure of himself and he had fueled his fight with uncontrolled rage. The bloodlust was like a crimson veil and with a final strike of his sword, McManus aimed straight for Tom’s head. He had not noticed the slow steady movement of Tom’s sword, raising ever so slightly and when he went to finish Tom, Tom moved to his left just enough for McManus’ steps to falter once again. As McManus stumbled forward, Tom plunged his sword to the hilt into the softer midsection of the man who had been hell bent on killing him.

  Surprise registered in McManus’ eyes as Tom felt the weight of the man pulling on the blade. Without giving it much more thought, Tom thrust and twisted his wrists, and he pulled the sword from McManus’ falling body. Jerome McManus’ sword fell out of his hand and clanged on the terrain below the outcropping of rock. With his hands grasping at his stomach, he lost the rest of his footing and he followed his sword to plunge backwards over the cliff. He landed with a horrible thud on the jagged rocks below and his sightless eyes gaped up from the spot in the hideous reality of death’s claim upon him.

  Tom stared at the grim spectacle before him a moment or two longer and then as the horrible reality broke through his unnatural calm, his own sword clattered to the ground. He hurried to Caleb’s side and found the man to still be breathing. He was trying desperately to speak but Tom said, “No, don’t try to talk now.”