Tall, Dark, and Medieval

by Barbara Devlin

The crowd roared like savage animals waiting to tear open their prey.

  It was a disgrace, Effie thought. These people were so quick to pass judgment upon an innocent man when the true murderer stood before their very eyes. Even though she couldn’t prove it, she knew Tavish had done it. These people weren’t looking for justice; they were looking for revenge, pure and simple.

  Effie tuned out the useless chatter as her brother carried on. She had a plan and needed to make sure everything was ready. Over on the east battlements she saw Neil in place and although she couldn’t identify his men, she knew they walked among the crowd at different vantage points with their weapons ready for battle.

  After she was satisfied that everything was falling into place she closed her eyes and tried to speak with Conall through mind speak. If he was nearby she should be able to speak to him.

  “Conall, can ye hear me?”

  Silence.

  “Let the battle begin!” Tavish’s voice rang over the crowd and Effie shuddered inside. If this plan didn’t work, she could very well end up dead.

  HIGHLAND STORM

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Center stage and applauded heavily, Sir Henry stood proud and ready for battle. The crowd roared and shouted words of encouragement to him to slay the man who had taken their laird. With his sword drawn and shield raised chest high, he looked like a true knight ready to fight.

  The black-cloaked man shoved Conall out of the archway and into the courtyard several feet away from Sir Henry. As weak as he was, he fell to his hands and knees.

  The crowd erupted with a serenade of boos and blasphemies while they threw rotten vegetables at him.

  Sir Henry lowered his weapon and turned around, addressing the crowd. “Is this the man I’m to battle? A weak coward of a man? I’d thought a Scot better than that.” He pointed to Conall, snickering as the town folk rallied together, cheering the good knight.

  With his head lowered, a sour cabbage flew by Conall’s cheek and splattered on the dirt floor next to him. He grabbed his dull weapon and slowly rose to his feet, squaring his shoulders and spitting the dusty air from his throat. “And I dinnae expect much from an Englishman.”

  With all his strength he met Henry in the middle of the courtyard, face to face, nostrils flaring. Henry broke the silence first. “Do you intend to fight me with a blade like that?” Conall looked down at his dull short blade and smirked. “I dinnae need a blade.” He threw the lame excuse for a weapon to the ground.

  “I must say,” Henry chuckled, “you Scots are more stupid than I realized. With a little work and training, Effie will make me a fine English lady. I’ve had the most enjoyable time getting acquainted with my new wife. I must reassure you though, I’ll take good care of the lass when you’re gone. You will die by my blade.”

  Talk was cheap according to Conall; action spoke beyond measure. Conall drew closer to Henry, chest to chest. “Did ye know she’s already married? She’s married to me.” He pushed off of Henry sending him a few stumbling steps back, which only irritated Henry more.

  Out of pent-up frustration, Henry charged Conall with his sword, lunging the blade toward his chest. Conall dodged out of striking distance and blocked the knight’s sword, sending Henry running past him. But before Conall could turn to face his opponent, Henry sliced the back of his legs causing him to go down on one knee.

  With a cocky swagger, Henry walked behind Conall and grabbed a hand full of hair. He pulled Conall’s head up towards the sky and placed his sword against his neck. “I told you, you pathetic Scottish scum. I will kill you. But first, I’ll give them a good show.”

  Conall balled his shaky fist and swung his elbow right into Henry’s gut making him stagger. Again Conall repeated this move until Henry’s grip on his hair released.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Conall saw something roll out from the archway. It was hooded in black. As he looked in the carved-out nook he saw his cellmate standing behind a headless man as the black-cloaked figure went limp and fell to the ground. With haste Caden grabbed the man’s sword and slid it to Conall.

  He grabbed the sword, which was heavier and sharper than his previous one, and squared off with Henry again. Swords swung and clanged together as they fought to gain the upper hand. As Conall did not have full armor to protect himself, Henry took a cheap shot kneeing him in his manhood.

  While he was doubled over and unprotected, Henry brought that same knee up and bashed Conall in the face, sending him flat on his back. Henry seized the moment and swiftly drew his sword, pressing it against Conall’s throat. He swallowed against the cold steel and looked to the crowds, to find Effie terrified and on her feet screaming.

  ~~~~~

  Effie couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw how badly wounded Conall looked as he was thrown to the courtyard ground. What had happened? He had healed; that she was sure of. By the love of saints she prayed he could still shift. He had to shift if he was going to make it out of here alive.

  Tavish leaned over to her again and squeezed her arm. “I told ye, whore, ye have no idea who ye’re dealing with.” He sniggered and turned to enjoy the morn’s entertainment.

  Effie sat on the edge of her seat as the men dueled back and forth. Conall was too weak to fight, and it sickened her the way her people were treating an innocent man. She closed her eyes and tried to talk to Conall, but there was no response. The magic had to be blocking her. He just had to shift. This was part of her plan. Without him shifting, Neil was going to have a hard time holding back the English garrison. Yet she knew she had to help him, regardless of the stakes.

  As Henry stood hovering over Conall’s body with a sword pointed at his neck, in terror Effie stood and screamed for Conall to shift.

  At that time the crowd grew silent. The clouds thickened and the wind blew strong as the sounds of flapping wings sliced through the air. Looking to the skies it was hard to see anything, for the wind stung her eyes. As she turned her attention back to the courtyard, massive winged shadows appeared on the earth circling the courtyard.

  Banking a hard right, two dragons flew in and made a landing. Perching high on the west side of the curtain wall battlements with a thud, their gut-wrenching, heart-stopping screeches echoed through the air, bouncing off the sandstone walls, creating havoc like no other.

  The townsfolk screamed that it was the devil and ran like death was chasing them. People bounced off one another, trampling the unlucky few that were knocked to the ground.

  Effie had seen Conall before in dragon form, but never the others. The black dragon with glowing red under-scales was massive and menacing. The way Abigale had talked to her about the first day she saw James transform, there was no doubt that dragon was James. The other dragon was vibrant green and when it roared, the earth shook violently, sending Sir Henry to the ground and relieving him of his sword.

  Hope flooded Effie’s heart as she saw James and Rory fly from the battlements scattering Sir Henry’s garrison with unrelenting dragon fire. Effie looked toward the east battlement and nodded to Neil. It was time she got Conall out of here.

  Effie was about to fight her way to the courtyard when Tavish grabbed her arm and pulled her behind him as he made his way through the hectic stream of panicked people. “Ye dinnae know when to stop, do ye!” He shoved her forward with a dagger pointed in her side.

  Tavish was too strong for her to fight but her will was stronger. She screamed out to Conall and tried again to mind speak. Shift, Conall, please!

  ~~~~~

  Sir Henry, now unarmed, managed to find his bearings, ball his fist and connect. The blow blurred Conall’s vision and he was disoriented. But he could have sworn he heard Effie’s voice, even though she was far away. “Shift, Conall, please!” Her voice was barely coming through to him, like a whisper. He blinked his eyes, trying to shake off the blow.

  Then he felt it like a blast of power radiating through every muscle in his body; every fiber of his being tingled. His brothers were here.
As if he’d drank some kind of magic concoction, the thickness that he had felt in his veins began to dilute, unlocking his dragon’s cage. The dragon deep inside of him paced relentlessly as he waited for the bars to crumble.

  Conall managed to get to his knees while Henry was engrossed with the two dragons laying waste to his garrison. But as Conall looked further, he realized it wasn’t the two dragons that were causing Henry’s armor to rust. Slowly Conall looked behind him and to his surprise a white-scaled, green-eyed colossal beast stood, staring down at Henry with the intent to kill in his eyes.

  “Caden,” Conall said, confirming his suspicions.

  “Who else would be daft enough to stick around?”

  Conall smiled. Never in his life had he been happier to see his Kine. Even though there were many questions that needed to be answered about Caden, they would have to wait.

  Finally finding the strength, Conall stood and stared down at Henry who was left speechless and motionless from shock. “Ye English should never underestimate the Highland dragon.” Reaching down soul deep, he called forth his dragon, who itched to be freed. He leaned his head back with arms spread wide open to the sky as his dragon surfaced with force.

  Silvery-gray scales erupted where flesh had once been. Eyes billowed with storm clouds with the tiniest black slit in the middle. Large curved blade-sharp talons replaced fingers that were ready to rip through human skin. Conall was a storm dragon through and through.

  Conall swept his barbed tail with razor-sharp spikes across the ground, connecting with Sir Henry’s legs. Before the knight knew what had happened, he was knocked to the ground, motionless from fear.

  One thing for sure, victory or not, Henry knew when to retreat and today was one of those times when you left with your tail tucked. Henry ran in the opposite direction to the four massive beasts, calling to his troops to retreat.

  Blazing arrows whizzed through the air and embedded their ends into Conall’s thick scaled skin as if they were pesky biting insects. As he called to the skies, the graying clouds broke with a flash of lightning, sending rain crashing down to the earth and fizzling out the flames.

  “Conall!”

  He turned to where Effie had been sitting but she was gone, along with Tavish. He growled and searched the crowd to find her but with all the chaos he couldn’t make out one person from another. He would have to follow her voice. “Effie, lass, can ye hear me?”

  “Aye, thank God ye can hear me,” Effie said.

  “Where are ye? I’m coming for ye.”

  “South tower. Tavish...he’s going to kill me.”

  Conall looked toward the south tower and his heart sank. His world halted and time froze. If he didn’t reach that tower now, his life would never be the same again. He roared a desperate cry as he took to the sky.

  HIGHLAND STORM

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Tavish stood behind Effie as he pushed her up the stairway of the south tower, kicking her along the way. “Ye couldn’t leave things be could ye, whore!” His voice, dripping with hate, bounced off the stone walls and chilled Effie to the core. She’d seen Tavish mad before but not like this. His eyes were furiously staring at her, piercing straight through her.

  “I had this all worked out.” He kicked her again when she stopped to take a breath. “Father would die. I would become laird and ye would be married off not only for me gain but so ye wouldn’t mess things up.”

  “Tavish, I dinnae understand.” She winced in pain and coughed.

  As they reached the top of the tower, Tavish pushed Effie toward the battlement wall. He paced back and forth with bitter steps, raking his hand through his hair. “I’ve paved me path to insure me place here in this clan. Even sold my soul and I won’t allow ye to destroy everything I’ve built.”

  “Tavish, ye’ve built yer house oot of lies. I know that clan Douglas didnae attack the tower and I know for a fact Conall didnae murder our father.”

  Tavish sneered. “Ye think ye’ve figured me oot, huh?”

  “I know ye killed father, didnae ye?” The statement came out more as an accusation than a question. She wondered where she found the courage to stand up to Tavish. Mayhap she owed it to her father to discover the truth behind his murder or she owed it to herself for the years she’d kept this part of her life hidden. She just prayed that she wouldn’t be taking the information to her grave.

  Tavish stopped in mid-pace. “I did kill the auld goat.”

  Effie closed her eyes tightly, trying hard not to cry. How her father must have suffered. For the love of saints, she hoped he hadn’t suffered for long. “But why? Ye were his only son, next in line as clan chief. Surely ye had nothing to gain by killing him?”

  “Me dear sweet sister, ye really dinnae know.” He stopped pacing and stalked toward Effie, causing her to take a few steps back.

  “Know what, Tavish?” Panic pricked her spine as he advanced. Dark, insidious eyes pinned her and she froze.

  “I’m father’s bastart child. I will never claim his position as long as ye live. Ye’re the next true blood-tie to the house of Maxwell. Ye see, I thought by marrying ye off to Sir Henry I’d gain not only a powerful ally but ye’d be far away from here, living in England. Ye’d be no longer a threat.”

  “Tavish, I-”

  Tavish silenced her with his hand held in front of him. “Why couldn’t ye have done what ye were told?”

  Effie couldn’t believe it. All these years she had known Tavish to be her flesh and blood. There was a time in their life before her mother died that Tavish had been a worthy brother to her. Now she understood his motives to break her down so she wouldn’t be a threat to his dreams of becoming a clan chief. Power and greed overcame loyalty and love.

  Tavish stalked her until she reached the battlement wall. Rough stone bit into her back as there was nowhere else to go.

  The wind blew and there was a chill in the air. A loud clap of thunder broke, shaking the earth as rain began to fall at a slow rhythmic pace. Effie desperately needed to find a way to escape. She turned her head to the side, looking down from the tower; nothing below her could stop her fall. It was a clear shot down into unforgiving ground. She would surely meet her maker if she decided to jump.

  As she looked to the upper level of the curtain wall, people were running for their lives, their screams deafening as they ran from the dragons. A trail of English garrison retreated out of the front gates. Sir Henry came into view as he mounted up on his warhorse and rode off. The Maxwell army was trying to calm the town folk whilst defending themselves from a few rogue Englishmen. Caerlaverock Castle was in complete chaos.

  As she looked to the center of the courtyard, a massive silver dragon stood, radiating vigorous strength. He stared back at her and she could hear Conall talking to her. She smiled, knowing that her dragon was free.

  Pain ripped through her head as Tavish fisted a hand full of wet red hair. She was yanked backwards, close to the edge of the battlement wall. Her hand immediately flew to his, trying to loosen his grip. “Please Tavish, I have no desire to be clan chief. I am no threat to ye.”

  She struggled against him but he was too strong. He pulled her head back until it hung over the edge of the wall, causing her feet to almost leave the ground. “Please, Tavish! Dinnae do this!”

  Tavish clasped her throat with his other hand. Curling his fingers around her neck, he squeezed. “I dinnae believe ye. Ye turned me men against me and started a rebellion with Sir Neil. Tell me, Effie, did ye really think ye’d get away with it?”

  “I... had to save,” she choked and attempted to pry his fingers away from her throat, “Conall.”

  A sinister laugh erupted from his mouth, as if he had gone daft. “Ye will pay for me losses here tonight.”

  As he removed his hand from her hair, he lifted Effie up by the neck until her feet no longer touched the ground. Through the daze of dizziness the fight to stay alive overruled the weakness her body felt. As her arms went limp, she fough
t to get hold of the object she had sheathed up her sleeve. It wasn’t much of a dagger, but a blade she hoped would save her life.

  With one fluid motion and never second guessing herself, the dagger was unsheathed and she stabbed her brother underneath the ribcage. Twisting the cold steel as far as it would go until the tip hit bone, she held his mortified stare.

  Wide-eyed and with his mouth gaping open, Tavish, with all the force he could gather up, pushed Effie backwards as he released her neck and grabbed the hilt of the dagger, pulling it out from his chest. With the force of the push, Effie lost her balance and stumbled backwards over the battlement wall.

  In one hopeless attempt, she clutched at the air and prayed that by some miracle the wall of the tower would expand and she could grab the edge and save herself. But alas those kind of miracles weren’t made for her; the top of the tower grew smaller and smaller, faster and faster as she fell. She was going to die.

  Funny what goes through people’s minds as they are about to die, Effie thought. Even though her every instinct told her to panic and fight for her life, she let go.

  Closing her eyes, she felt the wet sting of rain on her face, the air felt light around her as if she was floating instead of falling. She made peace with God and thanked Him for the time she’d had with Conall. Not everyone could say that they had been truly and fully loved by another. Not everyone found true love and for that she had been blessed, even though it had only been for five short years.

  She was thankful for the courage she had shown, rebelling against her brother. It warmed her heart knowing she would see her ma and da again, for she knew Neil would make sure she rested alongside of the lord and lady of Caerlaverock Castle. Tavish on the other hand, would burn in hell for the evil he’d brought upon their family. And for that reason alone she could rest in peace.

  Surely God would forgive her, knowing her wrongs were all in the name of love.

  “I got ye, lass.”