The Celtic Witch and the Sorcerer [Celtic Series Book 2]

by Lyn Armstrong

  A woman appeared out of thick black smoke. Her ebony hair was in contrast to her lily-white skin while her blue eyes were the same as the sorcerer's.

  Gathering her courage, Gavenia pushed to her feet. “You must be the sorcerer's mother."

  The stunning woman flinched at Gavenia's words.

  With an imperial voice, she replied, “I am Lady Torella Campbell, Sorceress to the Devil."

  Gavenia gulped. She did not know his mother was a sorceress. Many times her own mother had warned her about women of evil magick and how they hunt Celtic witches on Samhain's eve to steal their powers and burn them at the stake.

  Lady Torella smirked. “I see yer aura darkened with fear and well it should. But do not be too sad, you can be comforted in knowing yer blood will help me to live again."

  Gavenia stepped back, but an invisible force kept her in the pentagram. “Your ... your son will not allow anything to happen to me,” she blurted, hoping her false words sounded convincing.

  "Not allow it?” Lady Torella laughed again and then hissed, “He will insist upon it!"

  "Nae!"

  "Aye. If he does not acquire the name of his father, he will die on the day of his twenty-fifth birth.” Lady Torella rubbed her hands over her breasts and moaned. Her eyes turned black as she continued, “My son will not only die, but his soul will be tortured in hell for eternity.” Her child-like giggle was disturbing as she studied her nails. “The lad will pay for my sins."

  "How would his father's name save his soul?” Gavenia asked, her voice trembling.

  "The mortal's name is given in a blessing for the Gods. Having a human sire is redemption for my son's evil blood. The Gods accept his father's name and thus allow him to live. The universe is balanced and the Gods are pleased. And so on and so on..."

  "And you will not give it to him unless he kills me,” Gavenia added.

  "You are a wise little witch. Pity you must die by the Celtic dagger. I would have liked to see you burn ... but alas, one canna always get what one wants.” She turned to Evan and nodded. “'Tis time. Let us start the ceremony."

  * * * *

  The Roberts soldiers spread through the village like locusts. Tremayne's men bravely charged the invaders, but they were clearly unprepared for the surprise attack.

  Tremayne's first instinct was to use his powers and slaughter the enemy. It would be easy enough. One wave of his hand and the Roberts clan would fall to their knees.

  An honorable death, nae.

  A quick and painless death, aye.

  But he could not bring himself to do it. This was not any enemy. It was Gavenia's clan and her beloved family ran amongst the invasion.

  Running into the fray, he raised his sword. He would have to defend his keep the traditional way and pray to the Gods he did not come across one of her family members.

  A moment later, his prayers went unanswered. A blond-haired soldier wearing the Roberts coat-of-arms on his surcoat and shield, headed straight for him. The resemblance to Gavenia was staggering. His golden hair and angelic round face was the masculine mirror image of his love. This had to be her older brother she affectionately spoke of many times.

  Tremayne sized up his opponent; the brother's mouth was set in a grim line, his hand clutching his sword. He was tall and judging by his build, trained often.

  Sounds of the battle raged around them, but Tremayne paid no heed.

  The brother spoke, his voice filled with fury, “So the mysterious Campbell chieftain does exist. The spawn of Lady Torella."

  Tremayne smiled and answered, “My existence is no secret. Perhaps yer messengers are old and feeble."

  The brother lunged and Tremayne feigned to the right with a speed no human eye could follow. He watched his opponent run past, his expression filled with surprise.

  "What be thy name?” Tremayne asked. “So I know what to put on yer gravestone."

  The brother's eyes narrowed and his teeth gritted. “'Twill be yer name you son of a whore."

  Tremayne laughed at the brother's frustration, yet appreciated the man's grit of continuing to fight. Surely, the brother knew he was no match against a sorcerer's power.

  He lunged again and Tremayne defended his sword's blow. Again and again their swords clashed. Neither one tiring from the fight.

  "Why did you take my sister?"

  "She looked like she needed a mon to satisfy her."

  "Argh!"

  The brother slashed his sword through the air and Tremayne effortlessly defended himself from the deadly blade. Tremayne could not resist baiting the man. He was having so much fun. It had been long since he had a worthy adversary.

  A familiar face flashed by his side and Tremayne pivoted to see the guard he assigned to Gavenia.

  With only a short lapse in time, Tremayne turned to see the brother rush him. He twisted, but the brother's sword sliced past his ribs. A searing pain stabbed at his sides, but he absorbed the wound and remained upright to block the next parry.

  No one had wounded him with a sword. He looked up from the blood stain on his tunic. Panting, the brother's smug smile broadened on his face.

  Tremayne growled, “Take a rest, angel boy.” With the click of his fingers, the brother's feet remained fixed to the ground. He tried to budge, but ended up falling over on his rump, his shield and sword clattering on the ground.

  Tremayne chuckled and ran after Gavenia's guard. He found him fighting a common soldier. Loath to wait for the skirmish to be over, Tremayne used his powers to throw the Roberts soldier into the air, his body landing a few paces away.

  His guard nodded. “Many thanks, my laird."

  "Why are you here and not guarding Lady Gavenia?"

  The soldier tilted his head with puzzlement. “I was told you wanted me down here to fight."

  "Who told you that?"

  "The steward."

  "Evan!"

  He rushed back to the bailey. Every step he took seemed too slow.

  Tremayne should never have left her alone. What had he been thinking? It was almost midnight. He went to run up the stairs to the front castle doors when a flash came from the corner of his eyes. He turned to find the brother lunging toward him. Dodging the blade, he defended the next blow.

  "How did you escape?"

  The brother smiled. “Mayhaps you are not as powerful as you think."

  "I do not have time for this,” Tremayne replied and flicked his wrist again.

  The brother flew through the air and landed against the stone well.

  Tremayne could see the brother's reckless orange aura was still strong. He would have a headache, but he will live. His sister on the other hand...

  He ran up the rest of the stairs and entered the castle. By the devil, he hoped he was not too late.

  * * * *

  Adela sensed her children's distress all at once. Her son was in pain and her daughter's fear gripped Adela's heart. Curse these Campbell soldiers that blocked her path to the castle. Panic filled the villagers as they pushed past her to escape the battle. A Campbell fell at her feet and she leaped sideways. Her husband twisted around to make sure she did not trip over his opponent. She gave him a lopsided smile; even in battle he cared for her comfort. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do for the internal pain she perceived from her children.

  "My lord husband, we must make haste,” Adela called over the deafening noises from the fray.

  "There are too many people."

  A chill ran over her body. Adela looked up at the castle, above the turrets circled an ominous black shadow. “Dear Goddess, let it not be her."

  Her arm was pulled to the right and she stumbled behind her husband toward a soldier on a black warhorse.

  Phillip shouted, “We'll take the stallion and make our way through the crowd.” He led her to a wall. “Stay here."

  She nodded and watched her husband attack the Campbell on horseback. Phillip was at a disadvantage being on the ground, but no soldier could match his skill
with the sword. Soon, the Campbell lost his grip on his blade, and her husband pulled him off the horse, knocking him unconscious.

  He led the horse by its reins over to Adela. His two large hands lifted her on top, and then he swung up behind her. They clashed slowly through the battle. Some Campbells tried to stop them, but Phillip eliminated any who came near. They reached the bailey and saw Callum slumped against a well, his head bleeding.

  Adela slid of the horse and ran to her son, her heart thumping in her chest. “Callum, are you well?"

  "Aye, I am seeing double, though. Is that normal?"

  Phillip growled, “Who did this to you?"

  "Lady Torella's son."

  "Stay with Callum. I am going to find our daughter,” Phillip ran toward the prisoner tower.

  "Nae, she is not there,” Adela shouted.

  "How do you know?"

  "I just do. She is in the castle. I can sense her.” Adela pointed to top level. “She is very afraid, you must hurry."

  He nodded and ran up the stairs to the front doors only to stop mid-step. “Adela!"

  Five wolves advanced from the hall, their fangs bearing with ferocious growls. Phillip slowly stepped backward.

  Adela ran to stand in front of Phillip and held her hand up. “We mean you no harm. In the name of the Fliodhas, Goddess of the woodlands, I command you to back away."

  "What are you doing?” Phillip whispered.

  "I know not,” Adela answer from the side of her mouth, “but it seems to be working."

  The wolves stopped growling and retreated a few steps.

  "Who would keep wild beasts in the castle?” Phillip asked.

  "A sorcerer. Evil is near, be careful my love and find our daughter."

  He kissed her, sidled past the wolves and ran into the Great Hall.

  Adela turned to find the Goddess Triana in full form materialize before her. The usually serene beauty appeared sad and shook her head. “You should have heeded my warning, my child. Now misfortune will befall yer family."

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  Chapter Twelve

  A tight knot formed in Gavenia's stomach when Lady Torella's spirit circled her like a cat waiting to pounce upon its prey. Her cool voice spoke an ancient language, invoking a mist from the pentagram. Its color was rich lavender, but unlike the fragrant flower, the smell it gave off was putrid, like rotten eggs. The mist climbed her legs and swirled around her body. Gavenia did not think she could handle the stench as it raised higher and higher towards her face. The mist trapped her within the pentagram. Holding her nose, her eyes watered from the smell. Was she to die from suffocation?

  Once the mist completely surrounded her, her muscles began to burn until she could no longer feel them. Her body was paralyzed. To blink was a struggle. She must keep moving her body. She must fight the curse.

  Lady Torella skipped around her, clapping her hands with glee. “We are almost there, little one.” She turned her head toward the door. “And here comes my son to finish the ritual."

  Gavenia waited for the familiar figure to fill the doorway. Her only salvation. Her only hope.

  Despite her fear, her heart skipped a beat when the sorcerer entered the chamber. What took him so long? Why was he moving so slowly?

  "I am not too late, am I?” he asked his mother while training his sober gaze on Gavenia.

  "Nae, you are just in time.” She turned to Evan who remained quiet in the corner shadows. “Give my son the dagger."

  Evan peeled away from the darkness and presented the dagger to the sorcerer, then stepped back against the wall. He smirked at Gavenia, his eyes glistening with an ominous anticipation.

  The sorcerer's face was void of emotion when he grasped the dagger into his fist and held it low at his side. He turned to mother. “What be my father's name?"

  "I will tell you after you sacrifice the witch."

  He shrugged his shoulders and stepped closer to the pentagram. “Very well, then."

  Her panic increased when his eyes swirled with darkness like his mothers. She was looking into the purest of evil. A side she had never seen.

  Gavenia opened her mouth and went to scream, but only a whisper came out. “Nae, my laird, you canna do this. You are the chosen one,” Gavenia pleaded.

  Lady Torella laughed. “My son, the devil's sorcerer, is the chosen one.” She glided over to Tremayne and ran her finger down his jaw line. “How ironic."

  He faltered, his eyes returned back to blue and his face softened.

  Lady Torella commanded, “Kill her and let us be done with the ruckus outside. I ache to avenge my death on the witch's mother.” The sorceress walked to the window. “I feel Adela is near."

  The sorcerer stood still, looking at Gavenia. His eyes pleaded for her understanding.

  "Kill her! Kill her!” Lady Torella yelled. “Or be condemned for eternity!"

  "Nae,” he replied. “I will not do it.” The dagger dropped from his hands and clattered on the stone floor. “Release her, mother!"

  "You fool,” she snarled and ran over to him. Without warning, she slapped him and knocked him clear to the other wall. “Evan, take this dagger and kill the witch. I canna enter the pentagram."

  Evan skulked forward and reached for the dagger.

  "Nae,” Gavenia screamed in her head, her voice cracked into a whimper.

  "This is for my woman you killed, witch. She will be—"

  "Stop this chatter and kill her!” Lady Torella ordered.

  All Gavenia could do was watch as he entered the pentagram with the dagger held high in the air. Curse her muscles for not moving, making her vulnerable.

  Her gaze was pulled to the sorcerer, pushing himself up from the floor. Evan saw her gaze shift and turned to find the sorcerer leaping into the pentagram. They struggled for the dagger, the mist making them weak.

  Lady Torella shook her head with disgust. “Men are so incompetent.” She waved her hand and her son flew to the wall again. The sorcerer regained his senses and went to use his powers when his mother bound him to the wall with an invisible force. “Stay still, son, or I will be forced to send you to hell before schedule."

  "Do it,” he taunted, “just let her go!"

  "My, my, we are chivalrous. You are a disgrace to yer heritage,” Lady Torella said. “Evan, finish yer duty."

  Gavenia's gaze traveled to the left toward the steward, his weary arm lifted above his head, the mist paralyzing his muscles. With a weak hand in slow motion, the dagger entered her shoulder. A piercing pain ripped through her arm.

  He pulled the dagger out and collapsed to the floor.

  Gavenia screamed in her head, her wound oozed freely from her arm. Blood, as red as her gown, made a trail down her hand and dropped onto the pentagram. A flash of purple light shone from the symbol and entered the sorceress. At the same moment, the mist disappeared and Gavenia was released. She collapsed next to the steward and breathed large gulps of fresh air.

  Lady Torella squealed with delight as her body filled into flesh and blood, her cheeks changed in color from pale to a rosy pink. She was alive, young and beautiful.

  The sorcerer was also released. He ran to Gavenia and kneeled by her side. Gathering her into his arms, he put his hand on her wound to stop the blood flow.

  "Please forgive me,” he said. “I should never have taken you from yer home."

  Gavenia stared up into his eyes, they were clear and tender. “I am glad you did, otherwise, I never would have met my chosen one.” She swallowed the lump in her throat, her shoulder searing with sharp pain.

  He lowered his head and kissed her lightly, giving her strength when she had none.

  "Come, I will see to yer wounds.” He went to rise.

  "Leave her in the pentagram, son,” Lady Torella sneered. “I will need all her blood."

  "Nae! You are alive. She does not need to die."

  Lady Torella entered the pentagram, her powers seeming to increase by the moment. Her black eyes swirl
ed with anger.

  "Do not presume to command me. I have more power than you can imagine and I will see to it that you'll die a painful death.” She loomed over them, her size becoming larger and larger.

  A whizzing sound came from behind, and Lady Torella swiveled around to catch an arrow before it entered her chest. She laughed and broke it in half. “It has been a long time, Laird Phillip."

  "Release my daughter or die!” he commanded, training his crossbow at Lady Torella.

  "Father!” Gavenia called.

  "Enough of these diversions.” Lady Torella held out her hand and the Celtic dagger materialized. In one swift movement, she twisted to sink the dagger into Gavenia's chest, but Tremayne dove across her body and took the impact. His lifeless bulk landed across her lap.

  Nae, he cannot be dead!

  Her father charged Lady Torella with his sword. She straightened and waved her hand.

  Phillip's sword was ripped from his hands. The claymore flew through the air and clattered on the stone floor, his body stood still as if paralyzed by lightening.

  Lady Torella glared at Gavenia's father, her lips thinned. She stalked toward him and circled him like a predator.

  "I have someone who wishes to meet you,” Lady Torella said.

  Her father gazed at Gavenia, his eyes full of dread and frustration.

  Standing behind him, Lady Torella smacked both her hands on top of Phillip's shoulders and the air crackled with tense energy.

  "Gavenia, I am sorry...” Her father's words faded as his body disappeared.

  "Bring him back,” Gavenia cried.

  "Laird Phillip will never be found and can never escape. Your father might as well be dead."

  "Nae!"

  Lady Torella glided toward her and Gavenia tightened her hold on Tremayne. The metallic smell of his blood threatened to overwhelm her stomach, but she cradled his lifeless body, protecting him from his mother.

  "All these interruptions,” Lady Torella said with annoyance. She bent and touched her son's limp body and then they both disappeared.

  Gavenia's hands fell through the air. Tremayne had gone along with her father and it was all her fault. If she had not left Gleich Castle, this would not have happened.