Kate struggled harder against the magic as she reached the door to the house. She tried putting her arms out to catch the doorframe as the door itself swung open at her approach, but they wouldn’t move. Her arms were pinned to her body by the magical ropes. Her feet, the only part of her that could move, relentlessly shifted forward no matter how hard she tried to stop them.
“Kate!” her aunt’s angry cry slipped through the door just before it slammed closed by itself.
It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the gloom of the room in which Kate found herself, but in no time at all she was accosted by the odor. It smelled of unwashed man, rotting food and other rank things.
“Well, well, well. Welcome to my humble abode,” tittered a tall, rotund man as he stood up from a table in the far corner. As he left his plate, the stench of the cheese he’d been eating wafted toward Kate nearly making her gag.
Belatedly, he pulled a napkin from around his neck and tossed it toward the table. It landed a foot away, on the floor. “And who might you be, pretty one? I don’t believe I’ve seen you in our little village before.” He rubbed his hands together and looked her up and down as if inspecting a prime cut of meat.
“Let me go!” Kate said, fully aware how feeble her words sounded even to her own ears.
The man only laughed. “Yes, yes, of course, I will let you go. Once I am finished with you.” He crooked a finger and her feet took her closer even though she fought the compulsion with all her might.
She could feel terror begin to war with the anger already engulfing her. She had to do something to stop him. It was no longer a matter of wanting to fix something, now it was her life that was in danger.
She’d been an idiot to send Sir Dagonet away. She knew this—too late. He’d been right. He’d been so very right. She wasn’t capable of dealing with this man.
But Sir Dagonet and the sword she’d noticed that he’d worn at his side were long gone.
It was just her now. She wondered, if she couldn’t handle this man—and she lived—might Sir Arthur accept that there was nothing she could do to help her aunt? And if she couldn’t help Aunt Vallentyn, might he then take her away with him?
The thought was enticing. Too alluring. She mustn’t think such things. And certainly not now, she reprimanded herself sharply.
Despite the stench in the room, Kate took a deep breath. Fear and anger would hamper her magic, not make it stronger. And to actually get out of this alive, she must bring forth her strongest magic. Being raped or killed would not allow her to run away with Sir Arthur.
She needed to get hold of herself. She needed to concentrate. Sir Arthur would not be coming to her rescue again. But just as she did in the forest, she would fight her attacker herself. Kate was not one to just sit back and cry for help. No, she would take charge and put her all into fighting this man.
The rapist’s hand squeezing her breast put a dead stop to mere thoughts. Fury rose up in her like she’d never felt before. How dare he!
All the windows in the house blew open at once in her rage and a gale force wind shot through from one side to the other. Newspapers snapped past, book covers slammed open with pages fluttering and a teacup smashed to the floor.
The rapist lost his footing as the wind knocked into him—but just for a moment.
“Oh, ho! The bitch has claws!” He laughed. “But they are not sharp enough, my dear. Not sharp enough.”
He started toward her once again as he fingered the buttons on the fall of his breeches. The glint in his eyes turned Kate’s stomach.
With a quick glance at the table, she spotted the remains of his food left unaffected by the wind. Mentally, she picked up his plate and sent it flying into his face.
He ducked just in time, leaving it to sail past him and shatter harmlessly against the far wall.
A knife caught Kate’s attention from the corner of her eye. She’d never actually hurt anyone in her life but with this brute bearing down on her, now was not time the time to be squeamish. She sent the blade hurtling toward him.
This time it was nearly too late before he saw the attack coming. He shifted in an attempt to avoid injury. Instead of embedding itself into his chest as Kate had intended, it sliced across his arm.
“You fucking bitch!” he shouted, slapping his hand over the wound. “You will be very sorry for that!” He took two large steps toward her and grabbed onto her skirts, yanking them up before she could think to send anything further crashing toward him.
The door slammed open. “Take your hands off her!”
Kate nearly sagged in relief as the man froze at her aunt’s entrance. Perhaps not Sir Arthur coming to her rescue, but it was someone. The horrible recollection that her aunt lacked any power to back up her strong words destroyed any sense of relief, however. The air in the room seemed to disappear with all of Kate’s hope.
No time to become miss–ish, she forcefully reminded herself. If she could fight trees alongside a knight, she could do something about this rapist. But what?
The man spun around, letting go of her skirts. In his surprise, he allowed his concentration to slip. The binding of his magic loosened ever so slightly.
“I am your high priestess,” Aunt Vallentyn said, as if announcing she were the queen, “and you will let this young woman go at once!”
The man’s eyes widened and the magic holding Kate dropped altogether. She ran around to stand next to her aunt, pulling together her magic once more. Maybe another gale force wind or a tornado within the room—although then she and her aunt would both be bombarded with debris as well. First, though, she would try a suggestion. That would be the safest means of stopping him.
Pulling energy from the air swirling through the room, along with her own fear and determination, she gathered all the magic she could into her core and then shot it into her words. “You will stop this at once and remove your trap,” Kate commanded.
The man did pause and stopped to think for a moment. But then he began to titter. “Is that all you’ve got? Oh, great high priestess, have you nothing to add to this slut’s attempt at magic?”
DAGONET JUST SAT on his horse in front of Vallentyn Abbey. He couldn’t believe he’d just left her there. He’d berated himself about it all the way back. He’d turned around twice to return to help her, but he’d been unable get her words out of his mind: “I’m doing this for you.” It was those words which brought him back toward Vallentyn.
“What happened?” Lord Vallentyn asked, grabbing hold of his horse’s bridle.
“She said she was doing this for me,” Dagonet said. He was numb. Panic had passed. Anger as well.
“Kate said that?”
Dagonet nodded. “I told her the day before yesterday that she needed to stay with her aunt, to help her in any way she could now that she’s lost her powers,” he said, finally dismounting. “So that’s what she’s doing. She’s doing what I told her to do.”
Vallentyn said nothing for a moment. He just stared at Dagonet. Finally he said, “She loves you.”
Dagonet scrubbed a hand down his face. “I know. But with love like that…” he shook his head unable to finish the sentence. It hurt too much.
Vallentyn turned and started back into the house.
“She has to fix things,” Dagonet said. “She always has to try to help, to make things right.”
Vallentyn stopped and turned around, a surprised expression on his face. His lips twitched into a little smile. “Yes, she does. Always has.”
“It’s going to kill me.”
Vallentyn did laugh at that. “Probably.” He put his hand on Dagonet’s shoulder and guided him into the library. He poured them both generous glasses of whiskey.
After swallowing his down in one gulp, Dagonet said, “But you’re right. If I did this for her, it would be the same as telling her that I didn’t respect or trust her. She’s a strong woman, but I’ve got to be even stronger to allow her to be who she is.”
Vallentyn lif
ted his glass in a salute. “Now you see what I have to deal with all the time.”
Dagonet gave a sad laugh. “I’m nearly one thousand years old and I still don’t understand women.”
Vallentyn choked on his whiskey as he laughed.
TATIANA COULDN’T BELIEVE the nerve of this man. She’d examined his well constructed, but idiotic web of magic. He would catch anyone passing by, male or female, and draw them into his home against their will, just as Kate had been a moment ago.
Anyone caught would know he was using magic. Word would spread. The ordinary world would quickly come to know—if they hadn’t already—that this man had extraordinary abilities. They would discover he wasn’t alone in this; that there were others with magical power. They would learn about the Vallen. Their entire society would be destroyed.
This alone was reason enough to strip the man of his powers.
But that wasn’t the end of it. He brutally attacked women, raping them, cutting them to ribbons and then leaving them for dead in the forest. No, there was no alternative. She had to stop him. She had to strip him of his powers and release him into the hands of the authorities to stand trial for murder.
To add insult to injury, she had walked into his house and found him man–handling her own niece. Fury flared like a blacksmith’s fire with a fresh pump of his bellows.
No one touched her children without her permission. No one dared. Although not strictly her child, Kate was still under Tatiana’s care, her responsibility. Kate belonged to Tatiana and no one touched what was hers.
The idiot didn’t even realize the danger he was in. Before Tatiana could answer the man’s taunt, he did something even more stupid. He laughed right out loud. “Women! Stupid! Powerless! I have always wondered why we had a high priestess instead of a high priest. A man would be able to handle the position. The responsibility. A man would be able take control. Women are to be used and disposed of. They are adornment; good for breeding and nothing more.”
It took not a thought, not a moment’s hesitation, for Tatiana to react.
Before she actually exploded with rage, she magically slashed the ropes binding her power, raised her arms and hit the man with all she had. She shot him with a magical fire that would burn from the inside out. He flew backward, knocked into the table and sent the few remaining things on it spilling over him.
Before he could react, she bound him in ropes of power so that he could neither move nor speak. And then she stepped closer to do what was frequently a task of sadness. In this case, however, she would relish her duty. She would enjoy every moment of it.
“You think me incapable? Inept? Weak? Is that what you think?” she hissed, as she used her magic to put him back on his feet.
The man’s eyes bulged from his head. He tried to respond but was made incapable by the power binding him.
“I am almost tempted to make you dance to show you what it feels like to be forced to do something against your will.” She looked him over scornfully, allowing her face to show the feelings that burned through her—the anger, the disgust. “But you’re not worth it.”
Ever so gently, as her anger pulsed hot within her, she placed her hand on his cheek, looked deeply into his eyes and then touched her lips to his in a kiss that sucked his powers right from his soul. He collapsed at her feet, screaming.
Tatiana just watched him with satisfaction. He would never harm anyone ever again. He would not touch another woman in his life. In fact, he would hang before summer’s end, and the world would be rid of another piece of male scum.
A light touch on her arm made her spin around, hands raised and ready to attack.
Kate’s eyes were wide, filled with terror—not just fear, but absolute terror.
Tatiana took a breath, lowered her magic and put a calming hand on her niece’s shoulder. “It’s all right now, my dear. He’s not going to hurt anyone ever again.”
“No, my lady, it’s not that,” Kate whispered. “It’s… it’s your power. It’s back. How is it…? What…?”
Tatiana tried to decipher what her niece was saying. Of course she had… her power! Oh my God! In her fury, she hadn’t thought of what had kept her power from her. “The children!”
“Yes!”
Chapter Twenty–Two
PAIN SHOT STRAIGHT into her heart, as if someone had driven a knife into it, twisted and then tore it straight down her body to her womb. Kate grabbed her arm, but wasn’t strong enough to hold her upright. Before she fell to the floor, the girl directed her to the nearby sofa.
Tatiana’s breath came out in short bursts. She couldn’t breathe. The pain. Oh, God, the pain was intense. She didn’t know if it was the babe or the shock of what she’d unwittingly done to her own children. She’d unbound them from her. She’d released them to their own strength, or lack thereof.
“I’ve killed my children!”
There were no tears, nothing but pain. Excruciating pain.
The man had stopped screaming and now sat up on the floor, staring at her. Tears lined his face. His eyes were red with them. She couldn’t stand looking at him. She couldn’t stand him looking at her.
She pointed at him. “Get him out of here,” she panted.
“It’s my house!” he shouted.
She looked to Kate.
“Hold him there, Aunt. I’ll run and get the authorities and our carriage.”
Tatiana nodded, lifting a hand to freeze the man in place. “Be quick. Quick, girl!”
Kate said not another word but ran from the house.
AFTER VALLENTYN HAD caught his breath, Dagonet dared to broach the other subject that had been troubling him for some time. Since they were stuck waiting until the women returned, he figured now would probably be his best chance.
He cleared his throat. “I was wondering, my lord, if you might be able to help me with a… a problem I have.”
“Oh?” His host indicated that they sit in the chairs by the empty fireplace.
Dagonet nodded, but first unbuckled the sword belt from around his hips. “Thank you for this,” he said placing it on the table. “I only wish I’d had a chance to use it.”
“Oh! Not at all. You may take it with you if you wish. I have no need for it. Don’t even know how the wield the thing.”
That stopped Dagonet. “You never learned to fight with a sword?”
“With a rapier, yes. But not a broad sword like that one.”
“Ah, yes.” He poured himself another glass of whiskey and began again. “I’m not certain you remember—or were told—of the, well, the gift that Merlin gave me after Nimuë’s defeat.”
Vallentyn nodded and smiled at him. “Aren’t all Vallen children raised on the legend of the great Children of Avalon?” He chuckled. “The exploits of Scai, Dylan and Bridget and their mentor and guide, the amazing Sir Dagonet. He who fought three knights at once and carried on a witty banter all the while—and then still won handily!”
Dagonet burst out laughing. “Is that what they teach children now–a–days? Wot, wot?”
“Oh, yes! We are all raised on the tale.” Vallentyn laughed. “Tell me, how much of that is true?”
Dagonet sobered up a touch as he thought back to those days. “Well, if I recall correctly, it was only two knights at a time and I’m not certain you can call my banter witty, merely an attempt at distraction. Dylan was the one who actually took on four knights at once.”
“What?” Vallentyn exclaimed.
“Oh, he didn’t fight them with his sword, although I suppose he might have. Excalibur has never failed the one who has wielded it.”
“He truly did have Excalibur, then?”
“Oh, yes! But I’m thinking of the time that he used his magic to defeat his opponents, not his sword. Smart young man, our Dylan was,” Dagonet said. He shoved down the sadness that welled in the pit of his stomach and turned the whiskey there sour.
“My goodness, what times they must have been,” Vallentyn said with a wistful sigh.<
br />
“Indeed. Indeed.” Dagonet allowed himself to get lost in his memories for a moment, then snapped himself back to the present, and his predicament. “But as I said, after Nimuë was defeated, Merlin granted me a boon.”
“Yes, eternal youth, was it not?” Vallentyn asked.
“Er, something like that. I grow old up to a point. Then I’m compelled to return to Stonehenge, drink from a potion Merlin gave me and become young again,” Dagonet explained.
“Yes, yes! That’s right. My wife said she witnessed this amazing bit of magic when she met you there last winter.”
“That’s right. She did,” he agreed. “The thing is, I’m, well, not to say I’m ungrateful to Merlin for this gift, don’t you know? It’s just that… I’m tired. I’ve lived long enough. Seen enough. Done enough.” He paused to finish the whiskey in his glass. “I’d like to die.”
A silence reigned for a good long minute as Lord Vallentyn took this in. Finally he nodded. “I think I understand.”
“You were afraid of my attracting Miss Cherington, my lord. When I said I had no desire to do so, I told you the truth. I’ve been married. Twice. I’ve had children, grand–children, great–grandchildren and so on.” He swallowed. “Frankly, it’s painful and I don’t want to do that again. Watching those I love die… while I’m forced to carry on?
“Kate is a beautiful young woman. She is clever and strong—perhaps too strong. I could easily see myself falling in love with a girl like that again, but I don’t want to. I couldn’t… I wouldn’t be able to marry, grow old with my wife, and see her die while I didn’t. I’ve done that, and I don’t want to do it again.”
“How horrid.” The words, Dagonet could tell, came from Vallentyn’s heart. The man understood him.
“It is. I’m a little ashamed to admit this, but I’ve tried to kill myself. I’ve tried to die of old age. I’ve tried just about everything… but nothing’s worked. I am compelled to return to Stonehenge on the night of the winter solstice and take that damned potion! I need it to stop, my lord, I need it to stop!”
Bridging the Storm Page 15
