When the story was related to him by the people of Morbroch, Sung Li had simply filled in the gaps of understanding regarding the curious aftermath. Morbroch and the other lords, unable to explain the strange occurrence, embraced Sung Li’s explanation as the truth.
“The outlaw roused the wrath of the great Dragon of China,” Morbroch said, widening his eyes dramatically. “The beast swooped down upon the hanging tree, snarling and spitting fire, and snatched up The Shadow in his horrible claws to deliver him back to Hell. The sky was filled with thunder and lightning, moon and sun all at once, and the light of a thousand stars as the great Dragon raged and shrieked and roared across the heavens. At last, in a cloud of poisonous smoke and with a mighty swish of his terrible tail, he ascended into the clouds with the doomed Shadow, never to be seen again.”
A long silence ensued. Miriel had pressed her fingers to her lips, pretending astonishment when she felt laughter bubbling in her mouth. From the corner of her eye, she saw her sisters struggled with their amusement as well. Sung Li gazed on with smug satisfaction, as if her imaginary wicked brother had deserved no less. As for Rand, his eyes gleamed dangerously at the fanciful account. No doubt he was reliving his role as the great Dragon.
Again and again the tale was told. After the tables were cleared, and everyone had their fill of dancing, when all had gathered around the great hearth in the middle of the hall, still the story circulated. All of the Morbroch knights had been there, and each had his own unique version of the incident. The people of Rivenloch listened in rapt awe, marveling at the heretofore unknown magnificence of their outlaw. Boniface even composed a verse on the spot to honor the event.
But while she should have been grateful for Sung Li’s stroke of genius, Miriel found herself growing more and more glum and troubled as the night wore on.
When Rand left her for a moment to visit the garderobe, Sung Li joined her. “It is your wedding night,” he scolded. “You should be happy.”
Miriel frowned. “You killed The Shadow.”
Sung Li shrugged. “It was time for him to die.”
“But now how will I balance the accounts? You know how my father wagers. The coffers will run dry if—”
“As long as your yin and yang are in balance as husband and wife, the accounts will remain so as well.”
Fed up with Sung Li’s indecipherable advice, Miriel snatched him by the front of his kirtle, and bit out, “What the bloody hell is that supposed to—”
Sung Li reached up calmly and pinched hard at the flesh between her thumb and finger, making her yelp and release him. “The reward your husband earned for catching The Shadow will greatly unbalance the accounts. It may take years of losing at the gaming tables for your father to put them right again.”
It took a moment for Miriel to understand. When the truth finally penetrated, that Rand had been paid handsomely for The Shadow, she raised her brows in wonder.
“However,” Sung Li added as Rand entered the great hall again, “if the accounts should become unbalanced again…” He gave her a sly smile. “There is always my second brother.”
“Second brother?”
“The Ghost.”
Miriel smiled conspiratorially. Somehow she suspected there would be no need for The Ghost. Still, it was good to know if times became desperate, if she was forced to turn to a life of crime…
“It is time,” Sung Li said.
“Time?”
“You will make your babe now.”
Miriel’s jaw dropped. “Sung Li!” She furrowed her brow. “Do not deign to tell me when I will and will not…”
But when Rand swept up, grinning wide enough to show off his twinkling eyes and irresistible dimples, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, she had to admit that the prospect of making a babe was indeed tempting.
Rand kissed his bride’s damp forehead as they lay in the sweet afterglow of coupling. He wondered if Sung Li’s prophecy was right, if they would make a babe this night.
It didn’t matter. If not this night, then the next. They had a whole lifetime of lovemaking ahead of them.
Miriel nuzzled his shoulder, murmuring, “Sung Li was wrong, you know.”
“Wrong?”
Where he still nestled within her, she tightened around him, whispering, “’Tis The Shadow that has swallowed The Night.”
He drew a lusty breath between his teeth as his cock awakened yet again to her coaxing. Soon the warm coals of their desire were stirred to life, igniting and exploding into searing flames of passion.
When they finally fell back to earth, like spent fragments of falling stars, Rand realized there was one thing Sung Li had been right about. Their joining was as fiery and magical as huo yao.
Surely the child forged from such a union would be likewise unique—as strong and fearless as his father, as brave and clever as his mother. Sung Li had promised to take the babe under his wing, to teach him, or her, the Chinese arts of war, just as he had Miriel.
Miriel burrowed affectionately against Rand’s shoulder, and he buried his nose in her silken tresses, breathing in the soft, unforgettable scent.
Miriel was a sweet prize indeed. She was beautiful and wise, headstrong and brilliant, kind and coy and charming. And, he thought as his gaze caught on the gentle flicker of candlelight reflected in the array of silver blades on the wall, as fierce a warrior as he’d ever met.
He grinned. Just as he’d needlessly feared that Miriel would scorn his mercenary past, she’d assumed he’d be appalled to learn she was capable of wielding those weapons.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
She’d forgiven him for hunting her down.
He’d forgiven her for attempting to slay him.
And once he recovered from the shock of being viciously attacked by his own betrothed, his surprise turned quickly to respect and admiration. He’d learned something from Miriel and her sisters. Never again would he scoff at a woman with a blade.
Miriel sighed.
“What is it?” he murmured.
“I wish Sung Li hadn’t killed The Shadow.”
“You liked life as an outlaw?”
She shrugged. “Just once, I would have liked my father to see me.”
“I think he knew.”
She lifted her head. “What?”
“I think he knew you were The Shadow. He once said to me, ‘The Shadow walks among us, under our noses.’” He grinned. “I think he knew all along. Indeed, I suspect ’tis why he lost so often at wagering. He wanted to keep his outlaw daughter in fighting form.”
She smiled then in wonder and fell quiet, but he still sensed a melancholy to her silence. Now that The Shadow was dead, he supposed Miriel’s talents would go to waste.
As Rand lay there for several moments, admiring the display of exotic weapons on the wall, a spark of a clever idea began to smoke at the back of his brain, burning away like a black powdered fuse.
“Miriel, are you awake?”
“Mm?”
“I’ve been thinking.”
“Aye?”
“I’ve decided the mystery of huo yao is too precious to allow it to disappear in secrecy.”
That brought her wide awake. “What?” She speared him with a threatening glare. “You promised!”
He shrugged. “But do you not see? That knowledge would make Rivenloch an impenetrable fortress.” He let a gleam come into his eyes. “Its knights would be undefeatable,” he reasoned, “its lands unconquerable. Rivenloch would become the roaring dragon of all Scotland.” He shook his head. “Nay, I don’t see how, in good conscience, I can hold my tongue.”
Whether it was the telltale twitch of his lip, the merry sparkle of his gaze, or simply that she knew him too well, Miriel quickly guessed his game.
“I see,” she said, feigning a sigh of defeat as she settled back onto the coverlet. “And what would it take to convince you to hold your tongue? A purse full of silver? A new coat of mail? My firstborn?”
She craned her neck to look at him. “Teach you?”
“Teach me the ways of Chinese warfare.”
“You’re serious.”
“Of course.” He grimaced in false regret. “Unless you wish me to reveal the secret of huo yao.”
She arched a brow. “’Tis extortion, you know.”
“Aye.”
Miriel turned her back on Rand and let out a long-suffering sigh. “Very well.”
Indeed, nothing thrilled her more than the prospect of sharing her knowledge with Rand. Though she was loath to admit it, being The Shadow had been an enjoyable diversion. Now that Sung Li had seen fit to kill the outlaw, some of the purpose had vanished out of her life. Teaching would give new direction for her talents.
Of course, she wouldn’t tell Rand that. She’d pretend it was an awful inconvenience. And he’d pretend revealing the secret of huo yao was a terrible temptation. They were incurable liars, the two of them.
But despite their lies and trickery and word twisting, despite the coy coaxing and sly manipulation that came to them by nature, one thing between them remained true. They loved each other with purity of heart, clarity of spirit. Their passion might spark and flash and flare like the fleeting flames of huo yao, but their love would burn as slowly and sweetly as a steadfast fire on the hearth.
She grinned like a kitten with cream as Rand drew her back into his arms, pressing his loins warmly against her buttocks. Nested beneath the furs as snugly as a pair of bronze tuns, Chinese shields, they gazed out the open shutters toward the clear night sky beyond.
Rivenloch didn’t need the power of huo yao, Miriel realized. Between the skills of the Knights of Cameliard and the Warrior Maids of Rivenloch, the renown mercenary—Rand la Nuit, and the infamous outlaw—The Shadow, the keep would be well protected for years.
And if Sung Li was right, if Miriel and Rand spawned a whole new brood of gifted warriors, Rivenloch would stand for all eternity.
Somewhere against the black sky, a bright star streaked across the heavens, leaving a long dragon tail of sparks.
But the lovers were too engaged to notice. The Shadow had swallowed The Night again. The first of the next generation of Rivenloch warriors had been conceived.
THE END
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More Books by Glynnis Campbell
The Warrior Maids of Rivenloch
The Shipwreck (novella)
Lady Danger
Captive Heart
Knight’s Prize
The Knights of de Ware
The Handfasting (novella)
My Champion
My Warrior
My Hero
Medieval Outlaws
Danger’s Kiss
Passion’s Exile
The Scottish Lasses
The Outcast (novella)
MacFarland’s Lass
MacAdam’s Lass
MacKenzie’s Lass
The California Legends
Native Gold
Native Wolf
About Glynnis Campbell
I’m a USA Today bestselling author of swashbuckling action-adventure historical romances, mostly set in Scotland, with over a dozen award-winning books published in six languages.
But before my role as a medieval matchmaker, I sang in The Pinups, an all-girl band on CBS Records, and provided voices for the MTV animated series The Maxx, Blizzard’s Diablo and Starcraft video games, and Star Wars audiobooks.
I’m the wife of a rock star (if you want to know which one, contact me) and the mother of two young adults. I do my best writing on cruise ships, in Scottish castles, on my husband’s tour bus, and at home in my sunny southern California garden.
I love transporting readers to a place where the bold heroes have endearing flaws, the women are stronger than they look, the land is lush and untamed, and chivalry is alive and well!
I’m always delighted to hear from my readers, so please feel free to email me at [email protected]. And if you’re a super-fan who would like to join my inner circle, sign up to be part of Glynnis Campbell’s Readers Clan on Facebook, where you’ll get glimpses behind the scenes, sneak peeks of works-in-progress, and extra special surprises!
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The Handfasting
The Prequel Novella to
The Knights of de Ware
“And thereto I pledge ye my troth.”
“’Tis done then,” her father said in satisfaction, clapping the matter from his hands.
Ysenda hardly heard him. Her attention was riveted on the man before her—the man who had somehow, improbably, just become her husband. A warm twinkle glimmered in his eyes. His smile was captivating. And the thumb he stroked softly over the top of their joined hands sent a curious tingle through her veins.
The laird raised a cup of ale in salute, and the clan followed with cheers.
But Noёl wasn’t finished. He held his hand out to the man on his left, who placed a gold ring in his palm. Unwinding the handfasting ribbon to free her hand, Noёl then gently slipped the ring onto Ysenda’s third finger.
She stared down at it. It was heavy, carved with the figure of a wolf’s head.
“’Tis the great Wolf o’ de Ware,” he told her.
She bit her lip, troubled by its scowling face. The ring was loose on her finger. She hoped that it wouldn’t slip off, that she wouldn’t lose it, for it rightfully belonged to Cathalin.
He bent his head down to murmur, “I vow, my lady, from this time forward, ye shall have the protection o’ the Wolf.”
For one foolish moment, she wished that could be true. She wouldn’t mind having an army of fierce wolfish knights at her beck and call.
She gave him a faltering smile, which he returned with a wide grin that made her heart skip. But this was Cathalin’s husband, not hers. And part of her burned with envy at that truth.
He was still clasping the fingers of her right hand when he lifted his left
hand to cup her cheek. He tipped her head up, commanding her gaze. His dark eyes sparked at her like a smoldering coal. She had trouble drawing breath. His thumb brushed at the corner of her mouth, coaxing her lips apart. In a sensual daze, she let her jaw relax as her eyes lowered to his tempting mouth.
He was going to kiss her.
Cathalin’s bridegroom was going to kiss her.
She should have stopped him. But she had to play out this fiction, for her brother’s sake.
At least that was what she told herself as he closed the distance.
But it wasn’t completely true.
She wanted to see what it felt like to kiss a man. And she wanted to pretend, even if only for a moment, that she was just as worthy and desirable as her sister.
When he touched his lips to hers, the cheering clan seemed to fade away. There were only the two of them, connected by their joined hands and their searching mouths. Her eyes fell closed. His light breath upon her cheek sent a current of pleasure rippling through her.
And then he leaned closer, increasing the sweet pressure.
She expected, by his formidable appearance, that his kiss would be rough and aggressive. But the warrior somehow reined in his strength. His lips were soft, tender, and deft. His fingertips gently caressed the sensitive flesh beneath her ear, making her shiver.
As he kissed her, he entwined the fingers of his right hand with hers and drew her closer, until their tangled hands formed a lover’s knot between their hearts. Ysenda felt like warm candle wax, melting into him. Her heart beat forcefully against her ribs. A quiet, joyful moan sounded in her throat as he inclined his head to deepen the kiss.
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