There were many things he could do to her.
He leaned toward her. “I need to know the secret of your sword!”
“It is a sword. Just a sword,” she said.
“Oh, we both know it is much more than that!”
“Brogan, people say you travel or have in your service your own sorcerer or sorceress,” Kyleigh said. “You must understand the power is not in objects, but in those who wield the objects.”
“I have many people in my service!” he said. “Indeed, those with their own magic among them.”
“Then ask. They will tell you my words are true.”
He had to believe her on this. The first thing his men had done was to take the sword from her. They had dragged her none too gently—all the way back to the encampment. Her garments were in shambles; her flesh had been shredded along the harsh forest floor.
And she had been frightened, no matter how she had tried to show Rowan she was not.
But Alistair had warned her she was quick with tart replies. And still while Brogan looked like nothing more than an aging, gray-haired warrior, he was a monster.
He ruled with fear. Men surely followed him first for promises of great lands for the taking, with honor and riches. And as they followed him, they quickly learned that to disobey him was to court death. She knew already many of his men were not so determined to kill for the pleasure of killing. The one heavyset man who had taken her had tried upon occasion to ease her journey, out of mercy, she thought, and not because it had been ordered she be brought to Rowan whole.
“So, the great sorceress who has caused so much damage here carries an ordinary sword.”
“Well, it was once a fish,” she told him.
“Your sword is a fish.”
“Aye—it was a fish.”
“And a fish became a sword in your hands.”
“That is the truth; I swear it by Lord Kenzie and the people at the fortress.”
His fingers tightened on the intricately carved arms of his chair. “Leif!”
He did not need to shout; he had the voice of a commander, loud and carrying when he chose.
A tall man quickly came into the shelter. He was lean but appeared to be tightly built, and she imagined he would be an able man on any battlefield, strong and agile.
“Do you have this witch’s sword?”
“Aye, Lord Brogan.”
“You have inspected it thoroughly.”
“There are no writings upon it and there is not a gem on it, either. Nothing. It is well-crafted, but plain. We searched for any sign of a spell upon it.”
“Bring it to me!” Brogan ordered.
The man left and returned quickly with Kyleigh’s sword.
Brogan rose to inspect the sword. He was a tall man. She was sure he had risen to his position because he was an able warrior. Perhaps unbeatable.
He carefully moved the sword about. He searched every inch of the metal.
Then he brought the point to her chin, forcing her to raise her head to meet his eyes.
“It indeed appears to be an ordinary sword in every way,” Brogan said. “Ordinary enough I might slit your throat and disembowel you here and now with its edge.”
“You would defeat your purpose, would you not?” she asked.
“And you know my purpose?” he asked her.
“I am a sorceress, yes. Perhaps an unwitting sorceress, but I am not the leader of a fortress such as Kenzie, of a people such as those who reside there. You want Rowan.”
“Indeed. Well, girl, I will admit this—I would enjoy seeing the man was drawn and quartered, I would enjoy slicing his bowels from his body and forcing them and other body parts down his throat—right before ripping him asunder.”
“You are sick, Brogan.”
“No. I am strong and healthy.”
“Your heart and soul are sick. You have a darkness in you that will be swallowed into the black stygian pits of hell.”
“Ah, but I do not believe in hell, and therefore your words mean nothing.” He looked at the tall man. “Take her—and leave the bloody sword with me. I will study it still.” He smiled at Kyleigh. “I would also relish slicing you up, bit by bit, piece by piece. So much pain can be endured before death! Each finger, each toe, hands, feet, tongue, ears...the body may live on when all this is done! But...alas! My vision, I can tell you now, is to see you tied upon a standing plank with dried leaves and branches from your own forest piled about you. A warning fire shall be set. Oh! It will be agony—but it can be put out when Rowan sees he must give himself over to me.”
“Do you think he is a fool? He will know you will kill him and then me. And then every last soul within the fortress.”
“Ah, but they will not burn or suffer such agony!”
“You will fail,” she said, shrugging.
He slapped her hard. So hard her ears rang and if felt as if her jaw had been dislocated.
Her sword suddenly rose of its own accord, hovering in the air, and appearing as if it would thrust. Seconds of mental calculation swept through her.
“Fish!” she cried.
The sword turned back into a fish, flopping from the air to the ground.
At first, Brogan was furious. Then he began to laugh, and he walked over to the flopping fish, ready to plant his booted foot upon it.
But the fish became a sword again and Brogan swore and looked at his man, Leif.
“Take her!” he roared.
The man wrenched Kyleigh to her feet. He drew her from Brogan’s attempt at a noble shelter, bringing her to the area where the injured men had been kept and throwing her to the ground.
“Tomorrow, sorceress!” he promised her.
Tomorrow.
The way she was shackled was painful. She did her best to find a position that would allow her to rest. She did not want to use magic that night.
She would need it in the morning.
She tried Merlin’s tactic again. It had worked before. As Merlin had done, she concentrated on Rowan. And she whispered his name softly.
“Rowan.”
“Kyleigh?”
“I remain unhurt. He will have me tied to planks, ready to set afire. You must not give in him to him.”
“You have not escaped him?”
Rowan was sitting on his bed. She could see his face, the light in his eyes, the strong contours she had come to love.
“I will not escape him yet. Rowan, I wish him to believe he can win. When he threatens me, you must remain on the wall. Have our archers ready, and our men prepared to fight.”
“No true lord would ignore such a threat,” he whispered.
“But you must. Rowan, I would die for you—”
“That I know. And I fear.”
“But I plan to live for you! Rowan, you must believe me. I beg of you, while I believe it is a plan in action, you must be prepared. But you must await my signal.”
“And what will that be?” he asked her.
“You will know,” she vowed. “You will know. Rest well, I beg you.”
“And you,” he said.
She felt her power draining and she knew she dared not concentrate longer; she could afford no weakness in the morning.
Kyleigh felt the pain of her shackles again, and hardness of the earth.
Strange how, when just seeing his face with her mind’s eye, she felt no pain.
Pain or no, she must rest.
She could not fail in the morning. She would not fail just herself and Rowan, but hundreds of souls seeking just to live.
Despite her circumstances, she started to drift to sleep. There was a fire burning for the guards, and she concentrated on watching the flames.
One thing nagged at her, something that had gone to the back of her mind, and yet...
Her eyes opened fully and she watched the fire leap.
There was still the rumor of Brogan’s sorceress or sorcerer.
And that person was likely behind the fortress walls.
/> ***
Haman stood over Rowan’s bed as he opened his eyes.
“Forgive me; you must rise, my lord. The dawn is breaking.”
“No, no, Haman, thank you. I slept and slept deeply, though I feared I would have no rest. We must prepare quickly.”
“Matthew keeps lookout. The others have gathered in the hall. They await you.”
Rowan quickly rose, doused himself with cold water from his wash bowel, and dressed, donning his great mantle and the brooch with his chest, his sword, and his knives. Haman waited just outside his door. When he was prepared, they walked down the steps together.
No one was seated at his round table.
They all stood, anxious, talking to one another. Padraic’s men, his men, and several others, leaders from the village, and more.
Alistair and Mary and Taryn and Gareth.
The fine Celtic archer Caitlin, Col’s wife, and the young woman, Aileen.
“Lord Rowan!” Aileen called, alerting the others to his presence.
He descended the last of the stairs.
“Today, Brogan will come. He will threaten us; he will demand I give myself to him lest he burn his latest captive, Kyleigh, to death.”
“No!” Mary said, looking as if she would slump to the ground.
Alistair held her.
“What can we do?” Alistair asked.
Rowan looked at him. “Kyleigh will not burn.”
“Perhaps...” someone murmured.
Lucas said quietly, “Lord Rowan, we all know that men—and women—die when conquerors come and battle ensues. You are needed.”
“I will be here; I will lead,” he vowed. “What I need from each of you is to obey my orders as they come.” He glanced at Caitlin. “Archers save many. But our mounted men and foot warriors will be ready; it is likely we will engage today. Mary, see that the women and children are within tower walls; we do not know what fires may be set. Have the children who are old enough ready to put out fires should they burn. See that the livestock is to the rear. Listen and obey each directive; I will not leave you, and I will betray Kenzie. That is what must be done. Please, go and see to the people and our animals. Prepare to engage.”
Those in the great hall wandered again.
When they moved on, Alistair came to Rowan.
“You cannot let them burn her alive!” he said desperately.
“Alistair, I will ask of you what she has asked of me. Have faith.”
“She is—unlearned.”
Padraic stepped forward. “Alistair! She is more learned than you might know. I had in my keeping an old book. In the Celtic tongue, but you raised Kyleigh so well; she speaks your Anglo-Saxon-Briton language, and Celtic, and Latin. Alistair, she read the book cover to cover.”
“A book of spells! She will be bound. She will be helpless!” Alistair said.
Caitlin was still in the great hall and she walked over to Alistair. “I will dispatch any man who seeks to light a fire,” she vowed.
Aileen walked over and set an arm around Mary. “I believe she will prevail!” Aileen said. “She is strong. You need have no fear.”
Alistair was unconvinced but he and Mary left, casting a last glance at Rowan that was filled with reproach.
“I will go to the wall,” Caitlin said.
Aileen remained, looking frightened as they left. She turned to Rowan.
“I lied. They love her so. I see no hope for this. Rowan, you must not fall. You are the force here. The people love you. And there is this; Kyleigh might be in Brogan’s service. She might be safe; she might have been caught on purpose. A way to get back to Brogan, yet let it appear to you that you must give yourself over for her.”
“I have taken all possibilities into mind,” Rowan said.
She came and set an arm on his shoulder. “You must not die!” she said fervently. She turned and looked at Padraic. “You must not let this man die!”
Padraic smiled. “I am fascinated by the old gods and the Christian one God, but...alas, I have not managed to make myself a god. I have little control over Lord Rowan.”
“Ah, but Laird Padraic! You do,” Aileen said.
“I will do my best not to let the man die,” Padraic said lightly.
Aileen looked at Rowan. “Please. I would do anything.”
Her words were clear. Rowan smiled. She was a lovely woman. He knew many men were intrigued by her.
And while she might suspect there was a relationship between him and Kyleigh which surpassed that of lord and sorceress, she did not understand what he felt.
She thought they played at sex. That he was the noble, and Kyleigh a talented and special plaything.
“Aileen, take yourself to safety,” he said. “I believe the time comes soon when what will happen begins.”
She said softly, “Sire, I can be with you on the wall. I, too, can wield a bow. Not with prowess such as Caitlin, but...”
“Aileen, please,” Rowan said.
She nodded at last and turned to leave.
When she was gone, Padraic shook his head.
“Is it her?” he wondered aloud. He glanced at Rowan, grinning. “I believe Kyleigh has been suspicious of her, but then again, I believe Kyleigh feared your interest in her.”
“She never had anything to fear.”
“Well, I admit. I have thought of bedding the woman myself!” Padraic said.
They had forgotten Col remained as well.
“Many on the wall covet her,” he said.
Rowan laughed softly. “But not you, cousin?”
“I am married, not dead,” Col said. “One can think and feel—and not act.”
“Your wife has a good man,” Rowan said. He looked at Padraic. “There are sound reasons to believe Aileen might not be all she appears. She was not in the village long. She came from the west.”
“And yet she begs you not to risk yourself,” Padraic said.
“Ah, but you are not the traitor. I—or Alistair—know of all the others.”
“And they were quick to believe that Kyleigh, whom they have known all their lives—might be a traitor.” Padraic hesitated. “Gareth went out often—before he went out from here at your command. He watched and followed, as asked by the village elders.” Padraic hesitated again. “And he also coveted Kyleigh. He had asked Alistair if he might have her in marriage. Kyleigh did not refuse; she wanted to wait. But Brogan began his attack.”
“You think it is Gareth?” Rowan asked.
“No. I merely point out what reason there may be.”
“Gareth and Aileen must be watched. Even as we guard the wall, they must be watched.”
Padraic hesitated. “There is one other,” he said.
“Among your people?”
“Caitlin; she is an amazing archer.”
“An asset to you and your people.”
“She has not been among us long,” Padraic said unhappily. “She joined us among the Picts. They are a fierce clan, my friend.”
“And she is amazingly adept at reaching a target,” Rowan mused.
“We will need to watch all three. How do we manage that and remain alert on the wall?”
“We will manage; we will not fall from within,” Rowan vowed. “My God and every god and goddess of the earth and sky, we will not fall from within. Nor will Kyleigh die. I would sell my soul to the very devil—”
“It will not come to that!” Padraic said. He added lightly. “Besides, I do not know how such a deal must be struck. We would have to seek out the council of the good Father Peter.”
“Father Peter,” Rowan mused. “He prays now, but while we may not make a bargain with the devil, we can use his council.”
Padraic nodded. “He needs be with us. Rowan, you must stay strong. Kyleigh will not be so alone as you think.”
“Oh?”
“I do believe she is Merlin’s child. And while the man has disappeared and is assumed to be an eternal captive if he does live...he was still the great
est sorcerer of life and legend. I do believe Kyleigh is his child. And together, they must prevail.”
Rowan shook his head.
“Magic alone cannot end this thing, my friend. We must prevail. Come. It is time we get to the wall—and set our strategy. I believe I feel the earth moving already; hundreds of men marching with great weaponry. Brogan intends to take this fortress today. It is time we stop his evil encroachment forever.”
Chapter 13
They had cut wood and created a strong stake and they’d set the stake atop a crude wagon.
Kylie was freed from her shackles at first light—only to be taken to the wagon and tied to the stake.
She watched emotionlessly as Brogan’s men piled dried leaves and branches and hay around her feet.
Brogan was there, supervising, telling his men that the kindling must catch and burn when lit.
“Our archers will be close to the wagon as we walk; Rowan’s men and women will take care, they will not want to strike the kindling,” he said.
“Perhaps,” Kylie said with a shrug.
He glared at her.
She was standing, hands bound behind her back and the wooden stake that had been carved just for her.
Her ankles, too, were bound to the stake.
But she had not been cut or hurt in any visible way.
Her ears, tongue, and all toes remained.
Brogan had even made a display of brushing her fiery red hair that morning.
“Beauty and innocence to the flame!” Brogan had said. “Well, not so innocent. Your hands are as bloody as most, and I daresay you have defied many an order in your life, and as to...well, I do not think you are innocent of the flesh like a maiden chosen for the church with the power of the Christian god behind her! Ah, perhaps you have lain with Lord Rowan himself. Or the great Laird Padraic. Ah! Well, we shall see how the men enjoyed the sport, eh?”
She had not replied to his taunt that morning. But now as he spoke of his archers, there was a small audience around them of the men preparing her bier.
“I believe that you are the one who managed to get the whisper out that I was the sorceress you were said to travel with,” Kyleigh said. “Many believed it—and certainly, since I am with you—they believe it now. Perhaps they will not care if this wagon bursts into searing flame!”
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