by Jayne Castel
Find out more about the hero and heroine of Book One of THE IMMORTAL HIGHLAND CENTURIONS
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A wounded warrior who vows never to love again. The shy lady’s maid who adores him from afar. An adventure that will bind them. Unrequited love in Medieval Scotland.
Cassian Gaius is over one thousand years old and cursed to live forever. After watching his lover grow old and die, he vowed to remain alone until the curse is broken. But three hundred years later, his acquaintance with a lady’s maid blossoms into something beyond his control.
Aila De Keith has been in love with Cassian ever since he took up the role of Captain of the Dunnottar Guard. Unfortunately, the enigmatic warrior remains polite yet distant with her.
But when Cassian and Aila accompany their laird and his wife on a mission to occupied Stirling, their relationship changes. The man they serve makes dangerous enemies, and Cassian and Aila are thrown into an adventure that risks revealing both their secrets: his immortality and her love for him.
Book #2 in The Immortal Highland Centurion series, CASSIAN is a tale of friendship, loyalty—and the courage to love.
Historical Romances by Jayne Castel
DARK AGES BRITAIN
The Kingdom of the East Angles series
Night Shadows (prequel novella)
Dark Under the Cover of Night (Book One)
Nightfall till Daybreak (Book Two)
The Deepening Night (Book Three)
The Kingdom of the East Angles: The Complete Series
The Kingdom of Mercia series
The Breaking Dawn (Book One)
Darkest before Dawn (Book Two)
Dawn of Wolves (Book Three)
The Kingdom of Mercia: The Complete Series
The Kingdom of Northumbria series
The Whispering Wind (Book One)
Wind Song (Book Two)
Lord of the North Wind (Book Three)
The Kingdom of Northumbria: The Complete Series
DARK AGES SCOTLAND
The Warrior Brothers of Skye series
Blood Feud (Book One)
Barbarian Slave (Book Two)
Battle Eagle (Book Three)
The Warrior Brothers of Skye: The Complete Series
The Pict Wars series
Warrior’s Heart (Book One)
Warrior’s Secret (Book Two)
Warrior’s Wrath (Book Three)
The Pict Wars: The Complete Series
Novellas
Winter’s Promise
MEDIEVAL SCOTLAND
The Brides of Skye series
The Beast’s Bride (Book One)
The Outlaw’s Bride (Book Two)
The Rogue’s Bride (Book Three)
The Brides of Skye: The Complete Series
The Sisters of Kilbride series
Unforgotten (Book One)
Awoken (Book Two)
Fallen (Book Three)
Claimed (Epilogue novella)
The Immortal Highland Centurions series
Maximus (Book One)
Cassian (Book Two)
Epic Fantasy Romances by Jayne Castel
Light and Darkness series
Ruled by Shadows (Book One)
The Lost Swallow (Book Two)
Path of the Dark (Book Three)
Light and Darkness: The Complete Series
All characters and situations in this publication are fictitious, and any resemblance to living persons is purely coincidental.
Cassian, by Jayne Castel
Copyright © 2020 by Jayne Castel. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the author.
Published by Winter Mist Press
ISBN: 978-0-473-54680-9 (Kindle)
Edited by Tim Burton
Cover design by Winter Mist Press
Cover photography courtesy of www.shutterstock.com
Roman Imperial image courtesy of www.shutterstock.com
Visit Jayne’s website: www.jaynecastel.com
***
For Tim.
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Contents
PROLOGUE
ETCHED IN MY HEART
I
CORNERED
II
DAYDREAMS
III
MATTERS OF THE HEART
IV
OLD FEUDS AND NEW
V
HOPE
VI
THE BELTAINE BANQUET
VII
THE DANCE
VIII
REINVENTION
IX
LET ME GO
X
HIGH SPIRITS
XI
PROGRESS
XII
JOURNEY’S END
XIII
I’M HERE FOR SCOTLAND
XIV
THE HAMMER OF THE SCOTS
XV
PROMISE ME
XVI
GUIDANCE
XVII
A SHOW OF LOYALTY
XVIII
THIS IS FOLLY
XIX
WANT
XX
SECRETS
XXI
LAST NIGHT WAS MADNESS
XXII
NEVER MY INTENTION
XXIII
SAVIOR OF THE REALM
XXIV
STORM UNLEASHED
XXV
THE WAY OUT
XXVI
THE WOODLAND GLADE
XXVII
HOLDING BACK
XXVIII
THE SUN RISES
XXIX
A LONELY THING
XXX
UPON THE HILLTOP
XXXI
MERCY
XXXII
NOT MY SECRET TO TELL
XXXIII
WORDS ON THE WALL
XXXIV
FULL-CIRCLE
XXXV
IN NO ONE’S SHADOW
XXXVI
BLESSED
EPILOGUE
BLIND
FROM THE AUTHOR
HISTORICAL NOTES
CHARACTER GLOSSARY
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
MORE WORKS BY JAYNE CASTEL
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
“Why love if losing hurts so much? I have no answers anymore, only the life I have lived. Twice in that life I have been given the choice. As a boy and as a man. The boy choose safety, the man chooses suffering. The pain now is part of the happiness then. That’s the deal.”
—Quote from Shadowland (1993 film)
PROLOGUE
ETCHED IN MY HEART
Lothian
Alba (Scotland)
Spring, 1001 AD
THE TIME HAD come to say goodbye.
Like a doomed man awaiting his execution, Cassian had dreaded this moment.
But now it was before him, and there was no hiding from it.
Lilla was dying.
It was dark and smoky inside the cottage, despite that bright spring sunshine bathed the world outdoors. The glow of the hearth a few yards away cast a ruddy light over Lilla’s face, softening the lines of sickness and age. Her grey hair, once the color of ripe wheat, fanned out around her upon the pillows.
Staring down at Lilla, Cassian could still see the lass he’d swept away to live with him in the hills of Lothian. Despite that she was now aged and gravely ill
, to Cassian, she was as bonny as she’d been the first day he laid eyes upon her.
Lilla had been barely twenty when they met. She hadn’t cared who he was, or that they could never have a normal life like other people.
“Cass, mo chridhe … don’t look so sad.” Lilla’s voice, weak and raspy, filled the gentle silence.
“I can’t help it, love,” he whispered back, his fingers tightening around hers. Her hands were so thin and frail these days, the skin papery. “I wish I could have given you the life you deserved.”
“Ye have,” she replied, offering him a weak smile. The expression pained her, and she sank deeper into the nest of pillows supporting her head and shoulders.
Cassian shook his head. His throat was now so tight it was difficult to swallow, to speak, to breathe. Yet he forced himself on. “I couldn’t give you children.”
His voice choked off then. He wanted to say more—that she should have left him while she was still young, should have returned to her kin and found herself a man who could give her a normal life.
But instead, she’d remained with him.
“Fifty years,” she whispered, her sunken gaze fixing him with a surprisingly fierce look. “All this time together and ye still think that matters to me?”
“But doesn’t it?”
Her thin fingers clutched at his hand. “Ye have given me everything, Cass. I only wish that I too could live forever.” Her chest rattled now, making it hard for her to finish the sentence, yet she managed. “So that we may never be parted.”
Tears blurred Cassian’s vision.
The Lord of Light strike him down. He’d known this moment would come, yet he was utterly unprepared for how awful it felt. The agony of impending loss crushed his chest with a pain that was hard to bear.
Lilla had remained youthful and vibrant for so long, he’d almost believed that nothing would change. Even when the first signs of age came upon her—stiff joints in the morning and the appearance of lines around her large blue eyes—he still denied it. But time marched on, relentless and cruel, and when she became bent and frail, he could no longer lie to himself.
The Grim Reaper was coming for his wife, and he was powerless to stop it.
The other two who’d been cursed along with him all those years ago—Maximus and Draco—knew that it was foolish to give your heart to a mortal woman, or to live with one as long as he had. They’d warned him this day would come. But he’d shrugged off their concerns.
Neither of them had met a woman like Lilla MacKenzie.
“I wish that too,” he whispered back, his voice breaking. “I’d give anything to make it so.”
“Tell me a story, mo ghràdh,” she murmured, her eyes flickering shut. “My favorite one … about how ye became immortal.”
Cassian swallowed hard. She’d always enjoyed that tale, despite that it wasn’t a happy one. In the past, he’d tease her by refusing to tell it, until she tickled him under his arms and he finally relented.
He wouldn’t refuse this morning, even if he wasn’t in the mood for storytelling. Lilla liked hearing about his past, and he wouldn’t deny her, especially now.
“I was once part of the Imperial Roman army’s Ninth legion,” he began softly, one hand clasping hers while the other gently stroked her face. “‘The Hispana’ it was called, for the bulk of its force was made up of men from Spain … like me.”
He sucked in a breath, digging deep to remember those days. “We were once a proud legion, but centuries of campaigning in Britain had weakened us, and when I found myself stationed at Eboracum, near the northern frontier, morale was at its lowest point. Emperor Trajan wanted the uprisings in Caledonia quashed. He demanded that we take back the northern fort of Pinnata Castra, which Agricola had built many years earlier.”
Cassian paused there, bitterness spiking through him even after all these years. They’d been offered up like sacrificial lambs. No one cared what happened to the Ninth—the once great legion had become an embarrassment.
“And so ye marched north,” Lilla continued the story for him. Her voice was weak, and her eyes remained closed, yet her words were clear. “And the Picts picked ye off, one by one, until the last men stood before the crumbling walls of that old fort and made their final stand.”
Despite the heavy stone in his gut, Cassian smiled. “Yes, flower. That’s what happened. A druidess then captured me and two others … and she cursed us to an immortal life. She told us also that we could never father children or leave the boundaries of this land.”
“But ye didn’t believe her at first,” Lilla reminded him.
Cassian squeezed his wife’s hand softly. “Would ye?” Cassian paused then, his voice low as he continued. “The next day, the bandruì set us free and sent hunters after us. They stuck me full of arrows, but the following dawn, I awoke to find the arrows had disappeared and my flesh whole and healthy. I knew then the witch was indeed powerful.”
“She gave ye a way to break the curse.” Lilla’s eyes flickered open, and she fixed Cassian with an unnervingly direct stare. “Only of late, ye don’t seem to care.”
Cassian’s faint smile faded. She was right. His years with Lilla had turned his focus away from solving the riddle that had the power to set him, Maximus, and Draco free. “It doesn’t matter,” he said huskily. He didn’t want to discuss the curse or that infernal riddle now.
But Lilla wasn’t prepared to let the matter drop. Her thin fingers tightened around his, her throat bobbing. “It does, Cass,” she whispered. “And once I go, it’ll matter more than ever. Please promise me that ye will dedicate yerself to solving it.”
Cassian stared down at her, his vision blurring. He hated this conversation; it made everything seem so final.
Swallowing hard, he reached out and stroked his wife’s cheek. It was so cold; death’s shadow already touched her. Right now, he’d agree to anything, if only he could bring her back from the brink. “I promise,” he whispered.
Lilla died at noon.
Cassian wrapped her body gently in furs and then lifted her into his arms. She weighed nothing these days, so different to the robust woman of her youth. He then carried her outdoors, stepping into brilliant sunshine. Sunlight filtered across the hills, bringing with it the scent of heather.
Bitterness knotted deep in his chest. How dare the sun shine so gaily when the woman he loved lay dead in his arms?
How dare the world continue on? The wind still rustled through the pines, the birds still sang, and the burn bubbled merrily down the hillside.
Lilla was dead, and everything should stop.
And yet it didn’t.
Cassian carried his wife up to the crest of the hill behind the cottage where they’d lived for the past fifty years.
He preferred an isolated life. The nearest village was half a day’s ride on horseback, and with the passing of the years, few people had traveled this way—mostly to stop and refill their water bladders or to ask directions. Those who did assumed that Lilla was Cassian’s mother. Cassian had simmered with fury at their presumption, yet Lilla hadn’t minded.
She’d often teased him about it afterward, but for Cassian, it always took a while for the sting to fade.
It was a reminder that the outside world saw them as an unnatural coupling: she was a crone and he a man who looked barely older than thirty winters, a man still in his prime.
At the top of the hill, Cassian lay Lilla down and prepared to dig a grave for her. He knew he should have done this before now, yet he’d put the task off. It had seemed so final.
However, there was no getting around it now.
Cassian got to work, and all the while, the sun beat down on his back—and upon the shrouded figure that lay a few feet away, awaiting her burial.
Eventually, Cassian heaved himself out of the hole he’d dug. His body ached, and sweat poured off him, yet he paid his exhaustion no mind.
It wouldn’t do any lasting damage. Nothing would. He could dig until
his back literally broke, yet he’d awake the following morning whole and healed.
That Pictish bandruì had made sure of that.
Breathing hard, Cassian picked up his wife’s body and gently carried it over to the grave. He then climbed down and laid her upon a bed of rushes. Hauling himself out of the grave once more, he began to fill it, shovel by shovel, with dark peaty dirt.
The shadows were growing long, pink streaking across the eastern sky, when Cassian finally completed his task. After filling in all the dirt, he placed a cairn of stones over the grave—a tradition that didn’t belong to his homeland, but to Lilla’s.
He’d made the green glens and rugged mountains of Alba his home, and had even come to love this land. Meeting Lilla had given him a sense of belonging he’d never known previously. He’d been so happy with her; there had been times he’d almost forgotten the curse upon him.
Almost.
Lowering himself to his knees before the cairn, Cassian stared at it. His temples pounded from exhaustion and too many hours working under the sun, and his limbs were leaden. Yet the physical discomfort was nothing compared to the pain deep in his chest.
She’s gone.
Lilla MacKenzie had been his light, his hope. She was his shield from the darkness of eternity.
“Goodbye, my love,” he rasped, hot tears burning his eyelids. “Thank you for everything.” He paused there. His throat constricted. Grief rose within him like a spring tide. He wouldn’t be able to hold it back for much longer. “I’ll never forget you, Lilla. No matter how many years I live on … you will always remain etched in my heart.” His voice caught, but he continued. “I will remember how you looked with the wind in your hair, how you laughed at my attempts to impress you.” He tried to smile then, but his lips wouldn’t curve. “You were always a terrible cook, but that didn’t matter to me.”