To face her death.
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Chapter Fourteen
The sheriff’s nasal voice grated on Callum all the way to the master chamber. If this man did not leave him in peace, he was going to do something he would regret.
“I still think I should be the man who wields the axe,” the sheriff said.
“Lady Alayne’s guilt has not been established. I will not discuss this any further, Master Gawyn.” Callum did not miss the narrowing of the sheriff’s seedy eyes, and he waited for the small man to challenge his authority.
“As you wish, Laird Roberts.” Bowing, he left Callum outside his chamber door.
Rubbing the tense knot at the back of his neck, Callum entered his room and instantly sensed a presence. With his hand on his sword, he spun around to find Lady Torella standing beside the hearth. Her regal profile faced him, her lips shined with red paint while her tight, purple lacey gown pushed her breasts forward.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“For someone who has hunted me for the past year, you do not sound like you are pleased to see me.” She turned to look at him, her lips pouting.
“Where is my father?” he asked and stepped closer.
The sorceress grimaced. “I grow weary of that question. Allow me to tell you what I want.”
She closed the distance between them. Her graceful walk swayed her hips from side to side. Callum was aware of her beauty, of her lethal seductive powers. He also knew he must not fall victim to them.
With the tip of her fingers, she glided her nails across his chest, leaving an unseen sexual heat that went straight to his groin. His head felt light, but he shook the sensations off and stepped away.
“I will not grant you a thing, Lady Torella. So you might as well leave while I am still in good spirits.”
“Oh, that is no way to talk to the woman you used to fuck every night.”
“I thought I was making love to my wife,” he spat.
“You were, only I was in her body at the time.” A flash of humor crossed her eyes and she went to touch him again.
He grabbed her wrists and pulled her closer. “What do you want?”
“I want you to find Alayne and her sister guilty. Then have them executed together.”
“Why do you want your servant killed?”
“She disobeyed me!” The sorceress’ eyes glowed. “I would kill her myself, but it pleases me more to see her walk to her death knowing her sister will follow and no one will care.” Lady Torella pressed her body against his and lightly kissed his lips. “I want her to rue the day she defied me.”
“Did you kill Sir Rutger?”
The sorceress’ lips thinned into a line and she stepped back.
“Of course I did not. Alayne did that all by herself.” The dark orbs of her eyes belied the words she spoke.
Her lips were soft, enticing. His manhood rose as unnatural heat coursed through his veins. The sensual lure was familiar. The sorceress had enchanted him before, but not today … he would not cater to his traitorous body.
“I refuse,” he declared. “If Lady Alayne is innocent, she will be set free.”
“Perhaps we can strike an accord.” The sorceress ran her fingers through her tresses. Her raven hair caressed her face like a lover. “Have the lass executed and I will return your father.”
“Nae.”
“Nae? You would sacrifice your father’s life for someone who deceived you?”
“I will not have one life sacrificed for another.”
The sorceress laughed. “You are either dim-witted or in love. Either one leaves you a fool.”
Love? Quickly he banished the thought, granting her a cool stare. “Lady Alayne will get a fair judgment and her sister will be left out of the trail.”
Lady Torella glided across the floor, toward the arched window. “Either you execute Alayne, or I will kill her and your father!”
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Chapter Fifteen
The warm master chamber was stifling. Callum paced the length of the room, his sword secured to his hip. He lifted the green linen tunic he wore over his head and threw it on the bed, giving his clammy skin a small respite.
All eve he remained awake, tossing and turning. Thoughts of his father, the sorceress and Alayne filled his head, tormenting him. Varied emotions and lack of sleep had left him with a foul disposition.
Once again, the sorceress’ taunt came back to haunt him. You are either dim-witted or in love. Either one leaves you a fool.
Aye. He felt like every kind of fool since meeting Alayne. Was love the reason? He did not believe in the chosen one as his family did. That every Celtic witch or warlock had a special person destined for him or her—united by heart, soul and body until the day they die.
Callum sat on the end of his bed and glanced at his rough hands. The same hands that had touched Alayne’s smooth skin the day before. His heart raced at the very thought of her—of being able to hold her in his arms and laugh with her, kiss her, love her. After all the treachery, he still held feelings for her. He wanted to race down to the dungeon and release her, place within her soft hands everything she desired. His attraction to her started with a smoldering flame, but now it felt deeper. Much deeper.
“Dear Gods! Perhaps she is my chosen one.” The realization struck him, leaving him filled with more despair.
Clenching his fist, he stared at the roof.
With two soldiers flanking her on either side, Alayne walked into the airless hall. She glanced over at the hearth where as a child, she used to sit on the fur pelt and play with her sister. Wynda’s wide eyes would look up at her with adoration. Alayne was her protector, her companion. Who would look after Wynda now?
Alayne scanned the loud, crowded hall for her sister’s sweet face but did not find her. At least Callum kept her away from the proceedings. For this, she was grateful.
The glum faces of the Duncan clan stared at her, judging her. Members young and old of her distant family filled the hall. Clan she had not seen in over a year, not since her exile. Their glares did not offer support, only resentment.
Aye, she was already condemned by her clan. They believed all the rumors. It was after all, the only excitement in their dull lives. No doubt, she would give them plenty of entertainment when the ax fell.
The soldiers escorted her to the middle of the hall to face a high table where an empty chair sat. Alayne wrung her hands behind her back. Nausea churned the meager food she ate before leaving her cell.
Where was he? It was cruel to keep her waiting like this. She wished the judgment to be over. She did not know how long her wobbly legs would support her weight.
Everyone grew silent when Callum strode into the hall. The fine tartan garments he wore represented his station as chieftain and noble, the large sword at his side swung with his confident gait. No other man could compare to how handsome and virile he was.
Alayne forced her gaze away from him, lowering her head. It would be over soon, she kept telling herself. She dropped her hands to her sides, resisting the need to fidget.
“Lady Alayne Duncan,” Callum’s voice boomed through to the back of the hall. “You have been accused of murdering Sir Rutger Kilander. Do you understand?”
Alayne nodded, but kept her head down.
“I will hear from the sheriff and then from yourself. I will make my judgment afterwards.”
Alayne nodded again.
“Master Gawyn, tell me what you know of the murder.”
The sheriff pushed several onlookers aside and stepped into the middle of the room. With all the pompous of a great man, he stood next to Alayne. “It was early morn when my soldiers heard poor wee Wynda screaming. They ran to her chamber, but found the door locked. They pounded mercilessly on the door, but it would not budge open from the outside.
“Then, the screaming ceased. Lady Alayne had killed Sir Rutger!”
The room erupt
ed with angry shouts.
Alayne wanted to collapse to her knees and put her hands over her ears, droning out their horrid accusations.
“Silence!” Callum jerked to his feet and glared at everyone. Instantly, the room grew quiet and Callum returned to his seat. “Master Gawyn, did you see Lady Alayne murder Sir Rutger?”
The sheriff shifted from foot to foot. “Well … eh, nae, my laird. But aside from her wee sister, she was the only other person in the chamber—and she confessed!”
The crowd roared again.
Shaking her head, tears threatened Alayne’s dry eyes.
Callum rose from his chair again and the crowd hushed their tones to whispers.
“That is all Master Gawyn, you may step back.” Callum’s curt tone summoned her attention. “Milady?”
She raised her head. A ripple of hopelessness skimmed down her spine at the coldness in his eyes.
“Tell me what happened inside your sister’s chamber.”
“I … I killed Sir Rutger,” she said and looked at him from beneath her lashes, urging him to believe her.
This time the room became deathly silent, the crowd waiting for Callum to claim her guilt and have her executed. Instead, his lips thinned with annoyance as they stared at each other across the hall. Resting his chin in his hand, his eyes narrowed with suspicion.
Half in anticipation, half in dread, Alayne wondered what he could be thinking.
“Bring the sword that killed Sir Rutger,” Callum demanded without taking his eyes off of Alayne.
The sheriff went to the table by the wall and picked up a bloody sword. “These are Sir Rutger’s weapons. We were going to send them back to his family, but…”
“Give the sword to milady,” Callum interrupted.
“I pray your pardon?” the sheriff asked.
“Hand the sword to Lady Alayne,” Callum repeated.
Alayne took the offered handle and the tip of the heavy sword immediately fell to the floor. She struggled with the weight of the long broadsword.
“Show me what you did to kill Sir Rutger,” Callum commanded.
After staggering and then righting her balance, she gradually lifted it up, her arm straining with all its strength. The sword quivered while lifting the shiny metal over her head. She swiped it through the air.
“That will do,” Callum said.
Relieved, she allowed the sword to drop to the ground with a clatter.
He rose from the high chair. “Considering Sir Rutger was a seasoned knight—of this I know personally—he would not have stood still long enough for Lady Alayne to struggle with his sword and then kill him.”
Gasps came from around the hall.
Callum continued. “Neither you nor your sister could have killed the knight. Which leads me to the question, who did?”
Alayne’s heart dropped.
“Who else was in the chamber, Lady Alayne?” He frowned at her. His vexation was palpable.
“I … I…”
“Speak up!”
“Aye, there was another in the chamber,” Alayne raised her voice. “She killed Sir Rutger.”
“Who?” he asked.
Alayne stared at her clan. They would never believe her. She looked back at Callum and his eyes softened for the first time, encouraging her to tell the truth.
“The sorceress.”
Horrified whispers of witchcraft floated around the room.
“My laird,” the sheriff stepped forward, “if Lady Alayne is a witch then we must take her to be hung immediately before she casts an evil spell upon the good people here.”
The clan erupted with fearful ayes.
Callum slammed his fists on the table, causing it to shake. The deadly look pierced everyone as he scanned the room, scaring even Alayne. She had never seen him so angry.
“What is wrong with you people?”
Alayne glanced around to find her clan scuffing their feet.
“This is one of your clan you are eager to condemn,” he continued. “You should be ashamed of your disloyalty and ridiculous superstition.”
After a long silence, he ordered. “I want everyone to leave except the sheriff and his men.”
Stunned and disappointed faces stared blankly at Alayne.
“Leave now!” Callum commanded.
After the room emptied, Callum finally returned his sober gaze back to Alayne.
The sheriff strolled to the side of the high table, his arms crossed. He faced her with a glaring smirk. Unable to help herself, she fidgeted with her fingers again.
“Tell me what happened,” Callum insisted.
“The sorceress had brought me to my sister’s chamber. I had made a deal with Lady Torella. If she saved Wynda from being raped and killed by Sir Rutger, then I would deliver her grandchild to her.”
Alayne tried again to judge what Callum was thinking, but could not read his eyes.
She continued, “Then Sir Rutger insulted the sorceress and she used her powers to pick up the knight’s sword and slice his head off. I tried to tell my sister to run before the sorceress could see that I did not have her grandchild, and that I had tricked her, but it was too late. The sorceress found the empty bundle of cloths I carried. Furious, she left us there to take the blame for the murder. Instead of my sister being accused, I confessed, knowing no one would accept the truth.”
The sheriff laughed. “Milady, you honestly expect Laird Roberts to believe such a fanciful tale?”
“In considering this information…” Callum paused. The tension in the air was thick with anticipation. “I believe Lady Alayne Duncan is innocent of all accusations against her.”
Alayne stood frozen except for her eyelids—they blinked repeatedly.
Did he just say I was innocent?
“Nae,” the sheriff whined. “She killed Sir Rutger. I demand justice!”
Callum stepped down from the high table. “Lady Alayne is innocent.”
“Laird Roberts, you canna—”
“Master Gawyn, allow me to inform you of the other reason why the regent sent me here. There have been reports of you stealing the estate’s rent. Perhaps that was the reason why you and Sir Rutger conspired to have Lady Alayne exiled, to line your coffers without suspicion.”
“I would not do such a thing,” the sheriff gasped. “And you canna prove it.”
“Either way, the regent is displeased at being lied to. He has given me authority to take your post from you. Guards, see that Master Gawyn is escorted from the keep.”
The sheriff glared at Alayne. The hatred in his gray eyes caused her to take a step back.
“Nae! This is your fault,” he shouted at her and grabbed her hair.
He yanked hard and pain shot through her scalp.
Swiftly, Callum punched the sheriff on the mouth and he staggered backward, releasing her.
“Never—touch her again!”
The soldiers grabbed both arms of the sheriff and guided him away. Callum rubbed Alayne’s head and gathered her into his arms. In his protective embrace, a cry of relief burst from her lips. She was not going to be executed.
Her words muffled against his chest, “I pray you forgive my betrayal, I did not want to…”
“Shh, I know. The sorceress has ways of manipulating people to do what she wants. I only wish you had confided in me.”
Alayne tilted her chin to look into his sapphire eyes. “Me too.”
Her heart leapt when she noticed his curved lips—the smile was as intimate as a kiss.
Could this be happening? Could they really have a chance at love after all?
He cleared his throat. “I … I want to tell you something. It is not easy for me. I mean … to express my feelings…”
“I know,” Alayne said and smiled, her spirit filling with his declaration. “I feel the same way. The Gods know I have tried to resist loving you, but…”
“I was not going to say that,” he protested.
Stunned, her mouth dropped open.
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A cheeky, wicked gleam entered his eyes and he winked at her.
“Argh!” She whacked his chest playfully. She glared at him from the narrowed slits in her eyes. How could he jest with her in a time like this? “Well, I do not love you!”
He laughed deeply and it washed over Alayne, warming her insides like drinking wine.
“Aye … you do.” He pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly, swaying her back and forth. “And I love you, milady. It took me a while to trust my heart and release the past. But … I have loved you from the first time I saw you on the altar.”
With two hands on her buttocks, he lowered his head to kiss her. A shiver of delight raced down her spine. Unable to resist his sensual charm, she pushed up on her toes…
An ominous hiss came from the doorway.
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Chapter Sixteen
Fear chilled Alayne’s body.
She turned to find the sorceress gliding into the hall, her mouth contorting into a distasteful twist. A blood-red gown clung to her body as if it was alive, reflecting glimmers of light.
God’s wounds! Alayne would have collapsed if Callum were not holding onto her.
“You both disappoint me,” the sorceress proclaimed. Her wicked eyes focused on Callum. “Do you have so little regard for your father?”
He pushed Alayne behind him. “I do not think you will murder my father. If you wanted him dead, he would already be dead by now. Nae, you need him for something.” He released Alayne and stepped fearlessly closer to the sorceress. “One day, I will find out what that is.”
The sorceress smiled. “Not if you die on this day.”
A metal scraping sound from behind forced Alayne to turn around.
“Callum, watch out!”
A broadsword raised high in the air as if it weighed nothing and swung wide, back and forth. Pulling his own blade, Callum stood in front of her.
Alayne screamed when the enchanted sword lunged at Callum and he defended the deadly blow.
“Dear Callum,” the sorceress said smoothly. “Did you know I unlocked your warlock powers? I was the raven with the spell. ‘Tis ironic that I will be the one to take those powers away when I kill you.”
Heart of a Warlock [Celtic Series Book 3] Page 11
