by Diana Cosby
Meager hints of moonlight spilled through the angry churn of clouds, reflecting a wee bit of light on the sleek blanket of the snow-covered ground. After a check of their surroundings to ensure nay imminent threat existed, Trálin made his way toward the wedge of rocks. As he rounded a boulder, through the falling snow, he made out Catarine’s outline. Seems he was nae the only one who couldna sleep. As if wondering if you would live through the next day invited calm?
With each battle he faced, nerves played a part. Except never before had his worries included a woman, one who made him feel, want more than any other woman in his life.
The steady breeze increased, and Catarine tugged her cape closer. “With the blanket of clouds, it looks as if it will snow throughout the day.”
Startled, he halted. “How did you know I was there?”
“I saw you when you left your pallet.”
So she’d been watching him as well. Satisfaction filled him as he walked over. “The snow will help shield our approach.”
A hint of a smile tugged at her mouth. “Always the optimist.”
“Nay,” he said, sitting a hand’s width from her on the flat rock, “a man who takes what he is given and makes the best of it.”
A gust of wind swirled past. “’Tis nae always simple to do.”
“But in life, ’tis often necessary.”
The moonlight slipping through the falling snow illuminated her slender figure with alluring grace. “I canna help but worry for my family. I pray they are safe.”
“Whatever happens after the morrow,” Trálin said, his words somber, “you are a strong woman and will move forward.”
“Like marry a man I do nae want?”
Silence fell between them.
Catarine cleared her throat. “I should nae have said that.”
“You said only what is true.”
She sighed. “Still . . .”
“’Tis done,” Trálin stated. “We both understand our duties.”
“We do. Nor would it be wise to remain here together.” She stood. “With only a few hours left, we must try to rest.”
Fatigue rolled through him, and with the reality of the morrow, he found himself tired of secrets. The too real possibility existed that after the battle, either of them might be dead. Or both.
Trálin stood, caught her arm. He may be damned for his words, but if he died, ’twould be with her knowing. “Catarine, I—”
She tensed.
Bloody hell, mayhap he should say naught. He was a fool to even contemplate sharing his feelings where if they both lived, ’twould only make their situation worse.
“What is it, Trálin?”
The hope in her words gave him courage. “Catarine, if something should happen to me, know that I love you.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Stunned, overwhelmed, Catarine stared at Trálin, exuberant tears burning her eyes. “You love me?” She’d dreamed of this moment, for his feelings to match hers, and for their lives to be one, forever. “Trálin, I—”
In the brim of moonlight, he pressed a soft kiss upon her lips. “Say naught. I struggled with if ’twas wise to tell you. Even now, I wonder if I was wrong.”
“How can you feel wrong about telling me when it fills my heart with joy?”
“How can it nae feel otherwise? Once the battle is over, if we both live, my love for you changes naught.”
Angst tore through her happiness at the devastating truth. So caught up in his declaration of love, she’d forgotten reality. Hurt, trying to find some level of acceptance, she pulled away. “Then why tell me now?”
“Because on the morrow,” he replied, his voice rough, “if I didna live, I wanted you to know.”
The humble finality of his words gave her pause. He’d given no apology. Considering the challenge they faced and his lack of any magical power, in his mind, his demise was a logical deduction. More sobering, a warrior, a man used to fighting battles, he’d nae asked to fall in love. Caught in the turmoil of his emotions, he’d reached out the only way he knew how.
With honesty.
“I may die as well,” she whispered, her voice unsteady. “But ’tis nae what worries me. ’Tis the thought of losing you. And, I fear for the lives of my men, and for the knights sent with us from King Alexander.”
“I know,” he said, “I fear for them as well.”
The soft hush of wind swept past.
For a long moment she stood, savoring this moment alone with him. In but hours they would depart. And her life would have been poorer if Trálin had nae spoken.
“Though you wish me to say naught, since the moment I saw you, I felt a connection. I love you, Trálin. To know you feel the same for me is both humbling and amazing. Never did I expect to feel this way, but I do. You need to know that no matter what happens, I will cherish this moment, and your love, forever.”
Trálin touched her face, his heart aching in a way he’d never dreamed possible. “I love you so much.” He claimed her lips lightly, then stepped back. “However much I want you, I canna allow anyone to see us together.”
A fresh round of tears burned Catarine’s throat for what never could be. “’Tis best.” Frustrated, exhausted at the emotional battle she waged within her, she struggled to focus on what for her must be most important—the battle on the morrow. “I love you.” Before he could speak, she turned and hurried toward camp. As she approached where the fey warriors slept, Drax stirred awake.
He glanced toward Trálin following a distance away, then back to her.
“Lord Grey worries for me,” she said, before he made a comment.
Drax grunted. “Have you made your decision about what to do with Lord Grey and his men?”
Their earlier discussion, and the options given, came to mind. “Until moments ago, I was unsure.”
“And now?”
She nodded. “We will go ahead with what we discussed.”
“I know the decision was nae easy,” Drax said, his words somber, “but ’tis for the best.”
“I have to believe so.”
“Go to sleep, there is nae much time before dawn.”
She would try. With her mind raw with emotions, Catarine crawled inside her bedroll, and covered up in the cocoon of warmth. And with the slide of wind and flakes of snow tickling her nose, thoughts of Trálin’s vow of love sifted through her mind.
And she cried.
Tension pounded through Trálin as he pressed himself flat against the wedge of rocks and peered toward the entry to the cave a stone’s throw away.
Two guards stood outside.
He glanced toward Drax flattened behind him. In the first flickers of daylight, he held up two fingers.
Drax nodded, passed the information to the others.
Lord Grey scanned their surroundings. The heavy snow that’d make the trek to this position a challenge had also shielded them as they’d moved across the open field as well as covered their tracks.
Since the sun had risen, he’d caught no sign of the guards making rounds. With the way they ignored their surroundings and talked to each other, ’twas obvious neither expected any threat. Princess Elspeth was either convinced Catarine was a distance away, or the fairy princess had grown so powerful she believed her niece was nae a threat.
He struggled with the reality of his looming death. If he didna live past this day, his brother, Faolan, would inherit the title of earl and take care of Lochshire Castle. A brother he would greatly miss. But his greatest concern was that Catarine’s life be spared.
Boots crunched in the snow as Catarine, Drax, and the others crept closer.
“Any change in the guard?” Catarine asked as she reached him.
Trálin shook his head. “’Tis been the same two men by the entry since we arrived.”
“The men I sent to search our surroundings reported back no sign of anyone behind us as well,” Drax said. “We will go ahead with our plans. With them both nae on alert, I will become inv
isible and take them out.”
With a grimace, Trálin wondered if he’d ever become used to the fey’s ability to become invisible.
Drax started to move past, then hesitated. “Before our venture begins, know this, Lord Trálin MacGruder. You are a man I greatly respect.”
Humbled by the warrior’s somber claim, Trálin nodded. “A feeling toward you I share.”
“I am honored.” With one last glance toward Catarine, Drax moved around the brush, then vanished.
Several moments passed.
A guard cried out a second before the other. Both men collapsed.
Drax became visible, waved them forward.
“Princess Elspeth wants us to come inside,” Catarine stated as she moved beside Trálin.
Trálin glanced over. “Why do you say that?”
“’Twas too easy to take out her guards.”
At her matter-of-fact tone, unease swept through him. Where was her surprise? Her upset? Blast it! “You knew all along that your aunt was aware we were close and awaited our arrival?”
Turquoise eyes filled with regret. “Nae for sure.”
“Nae for sure?” he repeated, his anger growing with each breath. “You had a sliver of doubt mayhap, but you were fairly positive she knew of our approach. Except you kept it from me?”
Silence.
Trálin’s anger built. “We could have discussed it.”
At his hard tone, her face paled. “You are right, we could have. I chose otherwise.”
“You chose otherwise?” Bloody unbelievable! “’Tis nae as if we are armed with an equal force to conquer Princess Elspeth. We have but a handful of men, and we need to work together.”
“We have the stones,” she stated, her voice cool, distant.
“Only two,” Trálin said.
Her face hardened. “Along with the stones on my belt that will allow us to move close enough to her before she senses us, they will be enough.”
“Are your warriors aware of this decision?”
At the bite in his words, for a long moment she remained quiet. Finally, she nodded. “Aye.”
Trálin cursed. “And when were you going to let me in on the fact that you were going to allow your blasted self and your men killed?”
Silence.
“You were nae going to tell me, were you?”
“You would nae have followed us,” she replied, no emotion in her voice.
The pieces came together in furious understanding. “You had this planned.”
Turquoise eyes held his. “Since last night.”
Lord Grey stepped to within a hand’s breath from her face. “You will nae—”
The soft thud of Trálin falling into the snow made her heart break. A moment later, the echo of the other Scottish knights succumbing to the fey pressure against their necks to make them pass out sounded behind her.
Drax arched a brow as he stepped beside her. “I had hoped we would get inside the cave and find a place to hide them before they discovered our intent.”
“Lord Grey began asking questions,” Catarine explained, guilt edging her words.
Drax shook his head. “Have no regret for your decision. If Lord Grey and the Scots were with us once we confronted Princess Elspeth, they would die.”
“I know.” Angst filled her as she took in Trálin sprawled on the snow. However angry he would be when he came to, at least he would be alive. She met her warrior’s gaze. “You are confident the spell we put on them will keep my aunt ignorant of their presence?”
Drax nodded. “Aye, as long as they remain asleep, they are safe. Even if Princess Elspeth was aware of their presence, with them nae being fey and without powers, I doubt she would find them any threat.”
In silence Catarine knelt beside him and took in his strong features one last time. Her hand trembling, she withdrew her dagger, secured it beneath Lord Grey’s garb. “Give this to my father,” she whispered, pushed the thought into his mind.
The crunch of snow sounded as Kuircc joined them.
Standing, she took in each of her fey warriors, humbled by their loyalty, aching that after this day, their bravery would cost them the ultimate price. “Let us go.” Catarine headed toward the entrance of the cave, and she prayed the two stones set together would indeed be strong enough to stop her aunt.
In the growing light ahead, long spears of white jutted from the arched stone ceiling like macabre daggers.
“The cave is opening up,” Drax whispered.
“Thank goodness,” Catarine replied, smothering the candle she’d used. The haunting blackness they’d woven through left her unsettled.
The murmur of soft, methodic voices echoed ahead.
She halted, kept her left hand atop the gemstone on her belt.
“It sounds as if a chant,” Kuircc said.
“Aye, a dark one.” Uneasy, she crept forward. The waver of light grew, exposing the sharp angles of grey, the glitters of the spears of stone above appearing even more grotesque. ’Twas as if a macabre shrine to evil.
Near the edge, she lay down, crawled to the end of the ledge, and peered over.
Illuminated by a magical glow of light, in the cavern below, hundreds of armored men surrounded a fortress of stone. High upon a sweep of crude steps stood Princess Elspeth. She raised her scepter, a grotesque creation topped with a golden snake spiraling up to embrace a globe.
Silence fell within the cavern.
“This day we march north to Scotland and enter the stone circle to the Otherworld,” she said, her clear voice echoing with a smooth, lyrical ring. “None will stop us.”
Her men lifted their swords and cheers thundered through the cavern.
“Once the MacLarens have been destroyed,” she continued, “I will be the new queen, I will rule their lands, and when we are through, I will control every realm in the Otherworld.”
Another round of cheers echoed.
She lowered her scepter.
Her men quieted.
“Except,” she said, her words ending in a hiss, “there are those from the MacLarens who know of my plans and seek to stop us, which I will nae allow.” Head held high, Princess Elspeth scanned the cave. Her gaze halted on where they were hidden.
Chapter Twenty-two
Coldness prickled Catarine as Princess Elspeth’s eyes remained on where they were hidden. Oh God, she knew they were there! Nay, she couldn’t. She’d kept hold of the gemstone on the bejeweled belt since they’d entered.
A moment later, her aunt’s gaze continued to sweep the immense cavern, then she focused back on her men. “But, they are close.”
Shaken, Catarine returned to her men’s side.
In the dim flicker of light, Drax’s worried gaze met hers. “I saw her look this way. Do you think she saw us?”
“If she had,” Catarine replied, “she would have ordered her men to attack. Regardless of her power gained, the belt protected us. More disturbing, she has gathered more men than I had anticipated. We canna allow them to leave the cavern.” Her warriors nodded. Long heart-wrenching moments passed. ’Twas time for her to give the order, one necessary, and one she damned.
“Catarine,” Kuircc said, his voice grave, “we knew a possibility for this moment would come, and have planned for such. We give our lives for you, for our kingdom, with honor.”
Tears burned her throat. She took a ragged breath, wishing with all of her heart that she had another choice. Except, none to save her realm existed. “I could have no finer friends.”
“Here.” Drax’s hand trembled slightly as he lifted his azurite from around his neck and placed it on her palm.
Kuircc lay his malachite beside Drax’s. “We are ready when you are, Princess Catarine.”
His formal words brought tears to her eyes. Her heart heavy, she curled her hand, the weight of their gemstones heavy upon her palm. This moment, they offered more than their loyalty, but their lives. As much as she wished to hand the gemstones back and leave, she would na
e shame her warriors with the actions of a coward.
Her family depended on her.
Her realm’s safety lay in her hands.
And indeed, that moment had come.
“My thanks to each of you,” she whispered to her men as her gaze rested with reverence on each. Memories of the years with both, of the challenges and laughter they’d shared together slid through her mind. She savored each and every one, then focused on her next step.
Blood pounding, keeping her hand upon the gemstone belt, she edged toward the rim of the cavern.
A dull throbbing pulsed through Trálin’s head as he opened his eyes. In the distance he caught a glow of light at the mouth of the cave. He was inside a cave? What bloody happened? He was talking with Catarine as they prepared to enter the . . .
Catarine!
Her confirmation that she’d never intended for him and the Scottish knights to go with her and her warriors to confront Princess Elspeth rolled through his mind. Then he’d passed out. Passed out? Nay. He rubbed his neck where strong fingers had pressed just before he’d lost consciousness.
Drax. He must have turned invisible, returned and knocked him out while he spoke with her. A muscle worked in his jaw as he scanned the surrounding chamber. Unconscious, the other Scots lay sprawled nearby.
They all had been duped!
He made to push up, and his hand brushed something tucked within his garb. With a frown, he reached beneath the folds. His fingers touched the cool hilt of a dagger. What in Hades? In the faint light, he lifted the weapon.
In his palm, Catarine’s blade shimmered in the soft light.
Give this to my father.
Her request echoed through his mind. Why would she ask such? As if he could travel to the Otherworld? Or, did she expect her father to arrive with reinforcements too late?
As if his questions bloody mattered? She and her men were in danger, and by God, he’d nae give up on her. There must be something he could do to save them.
If they still lived.
Blast it, they did. He refused to believe otherwise.
With haste, Trálin shook each of the Scottish knights awake. After he quickly explained his intent to catch up to the other warriors and help, he withdrew a candle he’d stowed for their foray into the caves. Using his knife and a flint, he lit the taper. Lifting the candle before him, Lord Grey waved his men forward.