My Lady Mage: A Warriors of the Mist Novel

by Alexis Morgan

  It hurt to breathe. It hurt to stand, and his hands were slick with blood. His or his enemy’s? He didn’t know and wouldn’t slow to find out. All that mattered was to keep pushing forward until they reached the keep.

  Slash and stab. Slash and stab. One step closer to Merewen, one dead opponent at a time.

  * * *

  Merewen couldn’t remember how to breathe much less how to think. All she could do was look on in horror as she watched Gideon and his men fight for their lives—for her life, too, and that of everyone who claimed the keep and the surrounding land as home.

  The clang of metal against metal and the whimpers of the wounded combined with the eerie cries of the avatars in a melody of horror. Men were dying out there. Had they chosen to fight for her uncle’s cause, or had they been forced to side with him against Gideon and his men?

  Regardless of how they came to be there, she prayed for their departing souls even as she begged the gods to spare the lives of her champions. Had she known this would have been the outcome of her calling them from the river, would she still have chanted those words?

  Yes. Her people had needed Gideon and the others to fight for their freedom.

  “How bad is it?”

  Merewen tore her eyes away from the fighting long enough to glance at Alina. “Bad enough.”

  Alina put a tentative arm around Merewen’s shoulders, pulling her close. Merewen leaned against Alina, wishing they could do more than support each other. One way or the other, eventually the battle would be decided. Until then, all they could do was wait.

  A movement at the bottom of the wall outside the gate caught her attention. Someone was attempting to force the gate open from the outside. No, not just someone. She would recognize that brute anyplace, anytime.

  Olaf was attempting to sneak back into the keep. It was just like him to leave his men to do the dying. To her horror, someone on this side of the gate had already raised the bar. So they hadn’t rooted out all of the traitors after all.

  She yelled out a warning to the remaining guards, who quickly subdued Olaf’s confederate and then faced off against Olaf, their former captain. There had to be something more she could do! At the least, she could close the gate.

  Alina latched onto her arm, holding her back. “No, Merewen! You will only be in the way!”

  Her aunt was right, even if she didn’t want to hear it. The warriors were closing in on the keep, but she wasn’t sure they’d make it in time to save her men. The scream of a raptor split the night as help arrived in the shape of a gyrfalcon in a steep dive. Scim!

  Next, Shadow slipped through the open gate, followed closely by Hob. Even the dogs returned to the keep. Merewen’s men recognized them as allies and fell back, letting the swooping bird and snarling gargoyle force Olaf into retreating until he was pinned in a corner. He continued to brandish his sword and shout threats, but his efforts were futile against the avatars.

  She checked on the progress outside the walls. Without Olaf to lead them, the rest of Fagan’s men broke and ran. The last flurry of fighting was bloody and brutal, but finally Gideon and his men ran for the gate. As much as she wanted to be there to greet him, common sense ruled. Until Olaf was…what? Captured? Dead? And where was her uncle? She hadn’t seen him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still alive.

  Gideon strode through the gate, his bearing almost regal. Duncan came next, supporting Kane who was limping badly. Averel entered unassisted, but his shirt was soaked with blood. Gideon called off the avatars to face Olaf with his men spread out beside him in a ragged circle.

  “Surrender?”

  Merewen held her breath as they waited for Olaf’s answer. It wasn’t long in coming. He charged toward Duncan and Kane, mistaking them for the weak link. Kane straightened up to face off against the desperate man. Even wounded and bleeding, he made quick work of Olaf.

  “Where is Murdoch?” There was no mistaking the fear in Alina’s voice. “I don’t see him!”

  Merewen could barely bring herself to tear her eyes away from the drama unfolding below, but she understood her aunt’s fear.

  She peered out into the night, only just then realizing the darkness was already giving way to early morning. It wasn’t hard to spot the big warrior. He lay sprawled in the dirt just outside the gate with two men wearing the duke’s livery dead at his feet. Obviously he’d warded off one last attack on his way into the keep.

  With a horrified gasp, Alina went charging down the steps, leaving Merewen no choice but to follow. Her aunt reached Murdoch’s side, kneeling down to lift his head into her lap. His eyes fluttered open when she brushed the hair back from his face.

  “Murdoch, don’t you dare die! We have plans, you and I.”

  “My lady,” he whispered with a faint smile. “Nothing will keep me from you.”

  “No! She belongs to me!”

  To Merewen’s horror, Fagan appeared out of nowhere, his appearance so changed that it took her a heartbeat or two to even recognize him. His face was a twisted mask of insanity; his normally immaculate clothing was torn and filthy. Another of Duke Keirthan’s men was at his side.

  Fagan sneered at Murdoch, who struggled to get up. “She’s mine, you lowbred scum! Not that the slattern is worth having. I have promised her to the duke to use as he will. The same with my niece. He’ll kill me in their place if I don’t deliver them.”

  Wild-eyed, he raised his sword, ready to plunge it down into Murdoch’s chest.

  Merewen screamed as her aunt flung herself over Murdoch’s body, trying to protect the wounded warrior. As Fagan thrust downward, his silent companion shouted, “Hold!” and threw himself between the two women and her uncle. The blow meant for Murdoch bit deep into the stranger’s chest.

  It plunged straight into the medallion he wore on a chain around his neck, releasing a blinding burst of light and a crack of thunder. The unknown man screamed in agony and collapsed on the ground in a boneless heap. Fagan stepped over him, once again raising his sword. Before he could start the downward swing, he was jerked backward and tossed several feet away.

  Gideon.

  Keeping his eyes on Fagan, he asked, “Did he hurt either of you?”

  Merewen shook her head. “Sir Murdoch was already down, but Alina and I are fine.”

  She pointed at the man on the ground. “He tried to save us.”

  “Take care of Murdoch.” Gideon followed Fagan, who scrambled backward, trying to get away from the specter of death stalking toward him.

  Despite everything, Gideon gave him a choice. “Which will it be—surrender or fight?”

  Her uncle, his eyes wild, looked around, only now realizing that he was alone, his men dead or deserted. When he spoke, it was with resignation.

  “I’m a dead man either way, and at least you’ll make it quick and clean.”

  “Merewen, take Murdoch and go. Averel, help them.”

  The younger warrior appeared next to them. While she wanted to argue with Gideon, she understood he was still trying to protect her and her aunt. She left only because Alina didn’t need to witness her husband’s execution.

  The two women and Averel half carried, half dragged Murdoch back inside the gate. As soon as they stepped into the bailey, she heard the clash of steel. The battle didn’t last long.

  Her uncle’s dying scream greeted the sunrise.

  Chapter 28

  It was midmorning on the third day after the battle. Gideon sat astride Kestrel, watching Duncan disappear into the distance. He hated to see him go, but it was the best hope they had for finding some answers.

  The previous two days had been spent recuperating and burying the dead. Merewen had chosen to lay her uncle to rest near her father, saying she’d done it in memory of the man he used to be.

  Alina seemed to have taken Fagan’s loss with a mix of emotions, relief probably being chief among them. Luckily, caring for Sir Murdoch and the other wounded gave the new widow something to keep her hands and mind occupied.<
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  It was impossible to know how many of Keirthan’s men had escaped, but Kane and Hob had gone hunting during the past two nights and eliminated a handful. If any had gotten past him, the duke would soon know Fagan’s efforts to regain the keep had failed. It was unlikely the man would take defeat well.

  They’d taken but one prisoner: the man who had stopped Fagan from killing Murdoch and Lady Alina. He’d yet to regain consciousness, so they knew nothing of him or his motivations other than, judging by his uniform, he’d been a high-ranking officer in the duke’s service.

  Gideon doubted they’d done the soldier any favors by letting him live, knowing the low tolerance the man’s former master had for failure. However, he might yet prove useful to their cause.

  For certain, eventually the duke would make another move against them. Perhaps being denied both Merewen and Alina for use as sacrifices would weaken him for a while, but Gideon had no doubt that the man would find some way to strike back at them.

  The question was how best to prepare for that possibility. To Gideon’s surprise, the previous evening a pair of warriors had approached the gate. They represented several of the neighboring estates.

  It would seem that there was growing concern throughout the outlying areas of Agathia. People had gone missing; entire homesteads had been found vacant with no sign of what had happened to the residents. The visitors were seeking out others willing to band together to provide a defense against the mysterious attacks.

  The sound of another rider approaching had Kestrel stirring restlessly, but Gideon only smiled.

  “You are thinking too hard.”

  Gideon kept his gaze on the horizon but held his hand out to Merewen, entwining his fingers with hers as her mare came to a stop next to the black stallion.

  “There’s much to consider.”

  She followed his line of sight out to where Duncan was approaching a distant rise. “Our visitors are asking if we will join forces with the others or if we’ll at least meet with their liege lords.”

  “If you think they can be trusted, it would make sense to do so even if they aren’t ready to believe that it is the duke himself behind the attacks. There is greater safety in numbers.”

  It was several seconds before Merewen responded. “I’ve sold horses to several of the men they mentioned, and they’ve dealt fairly with me. They also treat their horses well, which I take as a sign of good character.”

  Finding some trustworthy allies would be a true gift from the gods, especially with Gideon’s own forces divided. “If you agree, I’d like to invite them to hold the discussions here where I can better control the situation. The duke already knows that at least we stand against him, so there’s nothing to be gained by going elsewhere.”

  “Do as you see fit, Gideon.”

  There was one more thing. “Kane approached me with an idea today that I’m still considering. He thinks we would do well to place a spy close to the duke, specifically him. Since Keirthan is practicing magic of the darkest kind, he wouldn’t question someone who bears a mage mark being drawn to his side. He might even take it as a validation of his supremacy.”

  He glanced at Merewen to see how she was reacting to the idea. She frowned but didn’t reject it out of hand.

  “What if some of Keirthan’s men make it back to the city and Kane is recognized?”

  “We’ve considered that. They wouldn’t question his being a mercenary who would sell his sword and loyalty to the highest bidder.”

  Merewen looked back toward the keep where Kane was prowling along the walkway at the top of the palisade. “I hate for him to be exposed to such evil, especially when you say this dark magic calls to his blood. Alone, it could go hard on him.”

  Her concern for his friend warmed Gideon’s soul. “I agree, which is why I’ll send Averel with him. They will separate, with Averel traveling as a troubadour. He’ll seek work in the city where he can keep in touch with Kane.”

  Gideon hated this whole situation. “Merewen, we are sworn to protect you, but it would seem that we would best serve you by scattering our forces. If that worries you, I’ll keep Kane and Averel here, but we’ll be fighting blind.”

  “I trust your judgment, Gideon. If we don’t oppose the duke, then no one will remain safe for long.”

  And the sands of time were running. “Let’s ride.”

  They rode side by side all the way to the clearing by the river. It was the same spot where the two of them had walked together and then shared their first kiss.

  Gideon dismounted first and then held his arms up to Merewen. He removed the pack he’d secured to the back of Kestrel’s saddle and set it on the ground. “I plan to be here awhile, so let’s unsaddle the horses and let them graze in comfort.”

  Merewen let him lead her down to the water’s edge where he spread out a blanket and set down the meal he’d had Ellie prepare for the two of them.

  “Shall we sit?”

  She joined him on the blanket. He leaned against a log for support while she curled up at his side, her head upon his chest. For the longest time, they were content to enjoy the warmth of the sun.

  But finally, his lady asked, “Gideon, what is on your mind?”

  He listened to the rippling water, wishing he found it soothing. Where to start? “Our time is speeding by, and we must make each day count. This evil must be stopped. All too soon, my men and I must return to the river. Before that happens, I need to know that you will be safe.”

  He felt Merewen shiver and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer. She turned to look up at him, her dark eyes so sad. “I hate that for all of you. Haven’t you done enough to atone for your mistakes?”

  He tried to smile. “It isn’t our place to question the gods, Merewen. We freely swore to serve their cause. Our honor demands we fulfill that vow.”

  He stared up at the sun, loving its warmth on his skin and loving the woman in his arms. “Each time we face judgment, I pray my friends will be released from their vows, that we’ve finally balanced the scales. This time will be that much harder for all of us because we have let ourselves care about your people.”

  Her soft hand cupped the side of his face, forcing him to look down into her eyes. “Just my people?”

  She deserved his truth. “No, not just your people. I love you with every breath I have in me. I believe the goddess herself has blessed our mating, and that means something. But until we know how this battle will unfold, all we have is each day the gods give us. In that, we are no different than anyone else who faces the evil the duke has unleashed upon this land.”

  He brushed his lips across hers. “I will understand if that is not enough.”

  Her eyes carried a sheen of tears, but her smile was strong for all that. “I cherish each moment that you are in my life, Gideon. What time the gods give us will be enough to fill both my heart and my soul.”

  She pulled away and sat up. He watched as she tugged the ribbon from her braid to let the dark silk of her hair spill down around her shoulders. Next, her hands went to work on the lacings of her tunic, revealing all that velvet smooth skin.

  “Merewen—”

  He had no words—none at all.

  Fortunately, his lady knew the right ones. Her smile was all temptation and desire. “You said something about making each day count. I suggest we start with this one.”

  When she melted into his embrace, he found the right words after all.

  “I love you, Merewen. Now and for always.”

  Read on for a special preview of the next book in Alexis Morgan’s Warriors of the Mist series,

  Her Knight’s Quest

  Coming in March 2013 from Signet Eclipse

  The mirror-smooth surface shattered, sending a sudden surge of cold water gushing over the side of the bowl to soak the skirt of Lavinia’s dress. Despite her best efforts to impose her will over the unruly liquid, it continued to ripple and refused to come back into focus, a clear reflection of Lavinia’s
own agitation.

  When her third attempt failed, she snatched up the bowl and tossed its contents toward the roses in her private garden. Maybe the water would do more good for the plants than it had for her. The simple truth was that she’d learn nothing until she controlled her emotions, especially her fear.

  “Shall I fetch a fresh pitcher of water?”

  Lavinia forced a more pleasant expression onto her face before turning to face Sarra, who hovered a short distance away. The young girl practically vibrated with the need to be of service.

  Lord and Lady, had she ever been that earnest and innocent herself? All things considered, it didn’t seem likely.

  Injecting a soothing note into her voice, Lavinia shook her head. “No, my child. I will do so myself. The walk will help clear my head.”

  Then her smile became more genuine. “Besides, Sarra, I do believe it is time for your music lesson. Sister Joetta will be waiting for you.”

  Sarra’s face lit up as she immediately bolted toward the door that led back inside the abbey. About halfway there, she froze and slowly turned back, her eyes wide with chagrin. “I’m sorry, my lady. I forgot.”

  Then she dropped into a low curtsey with her eyes trained on the floor. “May I be excused?”

  Lavinia crossed to where the girl remained frozen in position. She gently raised Sarra’s face and then smiled at her with a wink. “All these rules and procedures take a while to master, don’t they? Go. Seek out Sister Joetta. Tell her that you don’t need to report back to me until after the midday meal.”

  Sarra immediately straightened up and surprised Lavinia with a quick hug before continuing on her headlong charge toward the door. “Don’t worry, my lady. I’ll do my best for Sister Joetta.”

  “I know you will, little one.”

  Once she was alone again, Lavinia sank down on the bench and rested her eyes. She’d been up since before dawn searching for answers among the forbidden texts. All her efforts had garnered her were a headache and more questions with no answers.