His Enchantment

by Diana Cosby

  Twists and turns of rock littered their pathway, the damp smell inside ripe with the scent of limestone and hints of other odors he didna wish to identify. As they traveled deeper, the cavern walls flattened and at times, they had to squeeze between the narrowed rocks.

  The soft gurgle of water sounded from ahead.

  “We are nearing a stream,” Lord Grey passed to the others. As he started forward, a dim glow came into view. After several steps, he paused. Over the slide of water, another sound was barely audible. “Voices.” Trálin frowned. “Nay, ’tis in cadence.”

  “I believe ’tis chanting, my lord,” the knight closest to him whispered.

  “Chanting?” Lord Grey strained to make out the words. “If so, the voices are coming from an enormous contingent.” They’d found Princess Elspeth, except ’twould seem she’d recruited more men than he or Catarine had ever considered. He scanned the area. Where had she and her warriors gone? Blast it, they must find her. Dagger clasped in his hand, he guided his men forward.

  The dim shimmer of light grew.

  As they made their way around the next boulder, Trálin halted, then held up his hand.

  In the weak outline ahead, Catarine was crouched near her warriors several paces from the ledge.

  Thank God she was safe! He glanced toward the Scottish knights. “Keep low and follow me.”

  Before he could move, Catarine began crawling toward the ledge. At her next movement, a glint of light flickered from the palm of her hand.

  Her warriors’ gemstones! Fear sliced him. She was about to use them as she confronted her aunt! Lord Grey bolted toward her.

  As Catarine began to inch closer, the soft pad of boots on dirt echoed in her wake.

  They’d been discovered! Her pulse racing, she clasped her blade as she whirled to face the assailants.

  In the muted light, Trálin came into view. Determination carved his face, his knights on his heel.

  Her body’s trembles of fear shifted to outrage. The gemstones clutched in her hand, she scooted back, confronted him as he moved through the thin alley of rock. “What in blazes do you think you are doing?” she hissed. “You are supposed to be asleep!”

  With a frustrated hiss, Trálin held up her dagger. “You forgot this.”

  Guilt rolled through her, and as quick, her angst returned. “I do nae want you here. Leave. Now.”

  A muscle worked in Lord Grey’s jaw. “We are staying.”

  The stubborn man!

  “You woke up?” Drax said dryly as he moved to stand beside her.

  Lord Grey’s eyes narrowed on her warrior. “A fact you should thank me for. From the thunder of chants coming from the cavern below, ’twould seem each extra man is needed.”

  “We had a plan,” Catarine stated.

  “Aye,” Trálin growled as he shot a hard look toward where she held her warrior’s gemstones, “I saw exactly what you planned. Regardless, we are here.”

  His bravery left her humbled. As if she’d expected less of him? “Lord Grey, the situation is dire. You must take your knights and go.”

  “And allow you and your men to sacrifice yourselves?” Lord Grey demanded. “There must be another way to stop Princess Elspeth.”

  Grief balled in her chest. She shook her head, prayed enough time remained for Trálin and his men to escape. “I and the warriors have considered every angle. There is none. Now, go. Please.”

  Trálin’s body tensed. “If Princess Elspeth didna have a force, could she be stopped?”

  She hesitated. “I am unsure.”

  “Why?” Lord Grey asked, “because of the strength of her magic?”

  “In part,” she replied.

  Hope flickered in Trálin’s eyes. “In part? Why else would you believe her unstoppable? Wait. You sent Atair back to inform your father of your aunt’s treachery, so you believe there is a way to stop her. And if I am right, ’tis more than by sheer force.”

  “You have no idea of what we are up against,” she warned.

  “Catarine,” Trálin said, his voice hard, “we are at war and must use any of her weaknesses against her.”

  She swallowed hard. “My dagger.”

  With a frown, he stared at her blade. “You asked me to give it to your father. Why?”

  “Because though a chance exists,” she replied, “I canna be sure the power of the two gemstones together will stop my aunt.”

  “And the dagger will?” Trálin asked.

  She nodded. “The reason I asked you to give it to my father.” Catarine paused, steadied herself. “The dagger was given to me at birth, passed down throughout the centuries. ’Tis more than a simple weapon that offers protection, but one blessed by the high priests, one able to kill another of the fey holding magic. With the enormity of his forces, I believe in battle my father could fight his way close enough to her to use it.”

  Trálin glanced toward Drax and Kuircc. “And your fey warriors knew of your dagger’s potential.”

  She nodded.

  His eyes narrowed. “Why did you say naught before?”

  “Did you nae hear me explain that with the sheer mass of her forces, for me and my men, ’tis impossible?” she replied, frustrated.

  “I say we try. However slight,” Trálin said before she could speak, “we have a chance. I say we use it.”

  Catarine glanced toward her fey warriors, then back to him. “How?”

  “Wait here,” Trálin said.

  In stunned disbelief, Catarine watched as he moved toward the ledge.

  A moment later, Lord Grey paused, then moved back. A safe distance away, he crouched and hurried toward her.

  Regret filled her as he halted before her. “Now you see what I—”

  “I believe I can climb around the pillars of stone behind her,” Trálin interrupted. “Once I get close to her, I need you and your men to create a diversion.”

  “I am nae sure it will work.”

  “We lose nothing to try,” Trálin stated.

  “Nay,” she whispered, “We lose your life as well as the lives of your men.”

  Lord Grey’s fierce eyes narrowed. “We swore to help you. Nothing has changed.”

  However she wished otherwise, he was right. Fearful for his life, Catarine nodded.

  Sweat clung to Trálin’s back as he reached up and wrapped his hand around the next jut of rock descending from the cavern’s ceiling. Shoving his foot into an indent, he pulled and hauled himself up, the rich scent of limestone cloying. A chunk of stone broke loose beneath his boot. His body dropped. He reached for a nearby crevice, grabbed hold, and caught himself from falling.

  Below, the fragment of rock bounced with a soft clatter as it descended.

  Muscles aching, he glanced between the weave of slender, milky white columns to where Princess Elspeth was giving orders to her men below.

  Amidst the faraway tumble of water, standing above the immense throng of her warriors on stone steps, Catarine’s aunt continued to speak.

  Thank God, she’d nae heard. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Trálin glanced toward the ledge where Catarine and the others hid readied to create a diversion. And if that failed, to combine the fey warrior’s stones.

  A tactic he was determined would nae happen.

  Catarine’s dagger weighed heavy in his sheath as he reached up and wrapped his hand around the next misshapen pillar. He shoved his foot in a crevice. At his next step up, water dripped onto his face, the smell of limestone strong. He pushed on.

  “Ensure you have all of your weaponry,” Princess Elspeth ordered, “and prepare to march.”

  The sea of warriors below her cheered.

  Trálin moved closer.

  Long black hair flowed free down her back, her body-fitting gown of purple clad with weaves of gold and pearls. A finely hammered crown upon her head, Princess Elspeth crafted a picture of seductive evil. As she raised her scepter, the clear globe atop, embraced by the snake, began to glow.

  Streams of li
ght began to swirl and dance around the orb, then pulsed.

  Waves of energy washed over Trálin.

  Magic. A force that built an invisible wall seemed to breathe its own life.

  Bedamned, he had to reach Princess Elspeth before the power she was sending out became too strong for him to push past.

  The inverted pillars of stone before him began to swell and spiral, weaving around him as if a cage.

  He ducked and moved through the complex tangle at an even faster pace.

  The cavern began to quake.

  Jolted back, Trálin grabbed hold of a pillar.

  The pulses of light around the scepter increased to a frantic pace. “I will now open our path to depart!” Princess Elspeth aimed the ornate staff toward the far wall of the cavern.

  Trálin cursed. He was nae close enough to stop her!

  “Halt!” Catarine’s voice boomed.

  Her aunt whirled, fury carving her face. The scepter’s glow weakened, and Princess Elspeth lowered the staff. “So you have arrived,” she stated with contempt. “But you are too late.”

  “Am I?” Catarine held the two gems in her palm toward Princes Elspeth.

  Trálin silently cursed.

  Princess Elspeth—ignorant of his presence—smiled with putrid glee. “Princess Catarine, your gemstones are nae strong enough to do me harm.” Fierce eyes narrowed. “You know naught of how strong I have grown, but understand this, now, you and your men will die.”

  Nae if he could bloody help it! Trálin withdrew Catarine’s dagger and slipped through the last of the stones.

  Princess Elspeth raised the scepter. The globe began to glow. Light pulses again swirled around the orb. Eyes bright with malice, she angled the staff toward Catarine.

  “Nay!” Trálin yelled as he lunged.

  Shock widened Princess Elspeth’s eyes, and she jumped back. Her scepter shifted. Focused energy burst from the globe, slammed into the cavern wall far away from where Catarine and her warriors stood.

  As chunks of limestone and rock shattered, the power of the blast slammed Trálin against the rock, but he kept hold of the blade—barely. Against the rattle of stones falling through the cavern, he started to rise.

  A cold laugh sounded.

  Another burst of energy threw him against a pillar. Rough edges of the time-hewn limestone jammed against his back. Pain raking his body, he stared in dread as Princess Elspeth’s gaze narrowed on him.

  “You dare try and touch me, human?” she hissed.

  For Catarine, he would dare anything. Ignoring the pain, aware ’twas his last chance before she would kill him, he stood and lifted the dagger.

  “Think you a mere dagger is a threat?” the princess asked with disbelief.

  Let her think his blade no threat. Trálin charged her.

  Princess Elspeth aimed her scepter at him. “Be gone!”

  White light flashed around him; Trálin was hurled against a large pillar of stone. Blackness threatened as he struggled to retain consciousness.

  A shimmering of purple glowed around Princess Elspeth. “Now,” she hissed, “you will die!” She raised her scepter, and rings of energy shimmered around the globe. Satisfaction gleamed in her eyes, and with cold intent she lowered the staff toward him.

  “Nay!” Catarine started to raise the gemstones in the palm of her hand.

  Without warning, an explosion sounded. Rocks splintered, slammed against the far wall.

  Amidst the streams of light flooding the cavern, Trálin shoved to his feet. What in Hades was going on? Gasping for breath, he shielded his eyes.

  A gaping hole lay in the side of the cavern, and an army of warriors began climbing through.

  Outrage splashed Princess Elspeth’s face. “Kill them!”

  With a roar, her warriors raised their weapons, charged the incoming force.

  A large grey-haired man brandished his sword with lethal precision as he headed the charge and quickly disposed of one of Princess Elspeth’s warriors before cutting down the next with barely a breath.

  Relief swept through Catarine. “Father! Princess Elspeth is up above you!” she yelled as she stood at the ledge.

  King Leod’s gaze quickly met hers. He nodded, then worked his way toward the chiseled steps.

  Behind him, another man, hair black as coal, a fierce expression on his face, moved with a fierce stride, his each swing of his blade taking down one of Princess Elspeth’s warriors.

  Relief at seeing her father plummeted to shock. Prince Zacheus! Of course, as her betrothed, she should have expected he would come. Except in the mayhem, she’d nae given any consideration to his reaction when he learned of her being in danger.

  What of Trálin? In the sheen of dust-smeared light pouring in from outside, she searched the rubble. Near a large boulder, he was climbing to his feet. Thank God he’d survived.

  A movement from the stairway caught her attention.

  Her face tight with outrage, Princess Elspeth raised her scepter. Orbs of light swirled around the globe as she aimed it at her father.

  “Father, watch out!” Catarine yelled.

  As the burst of energy shot from the scepter, Prince Zacheus charged up the steps and shielded her father.

  “Prince Zacheus,” the king yelled, “Do nae—”

  Waves of brilliant light encircled Catarine’s betrothed; Prince Zacheus evaporated, and his sword clattered to the ground.

  Catarine covered her mouth in horror.

  “Now, to eliminate you.” With a sadistic smile, Princess Elspeth lifted the scepter. Once pulses of light swirled around the scepter, she aimed the globe at her brother, the king. Energy burst in a bright light toward Catarine’s father.

  Outrage splashed on King Leod’s face. He jerked a gold medallion from around his neck, lifted it before him as if a shield. Light reflected off the polished metal and back to engulf her aunt.

  Shock, then pain ripped across her aunt’s face. Within the shimmering light, Princess Elspeth twisted, turned, wove together with the purple aura, then disappeared. Her scepter clattered to the limestone.

  As the purple aura slowly faded, one by one, her men dropped their swords, turned to stare at where Princess Elspeth had once stood. Dazed disbelief, and then as they continued to stare, then relief swept their faces. The clang of swords filled the cavern as her aunt’s warriors began to throw down their blades.

  Realization hit Catarine as she watched. The men had been under her aunt’s spell. Why had she not thought of this before? And, with the spell broken by her death, the warriors would nae fight.

  Joy filled her as she hurried to her warriors to explain.

  A short while later, as the warriors continued to file out of the cavern, Catarine hugged her father. “Th-Thank God you arrived when you did.”

  “Lady Catarine had doubts of me reaching you in time, Your Grace,” Atair stated, his voice dry.

  “I was unsure,” she admitted, still trying to absorb all that had occurred. As she stepped back, she caught sight of Prince Zacheus’s blade. Sadness filled her. However much she didna love him, he didna deserve to die. “I canna believe he is dead.”

  “He was a man of honor,” her father said, his words choked out. “When he learned you were in danger, he refused to stay away.”

  “And for his bravery,” she whispered, “he paid the ultimate price.”

  The king’s face darkened. “I should have told him of my medallion, but never did I believe my sister had grown so strong.”

  “Father,” she said, her voice rough with tears, “with Prince Zacheus’s death, what of the peace between our realms?”

  King Leod gave a heavy sigh. “I will speak with his father. It saddens me to bring him news of the tragedy of his son’s death, but I have faith that we can work out an alliance that will serve us all.”

  And she prayed he was right. She took in where moments before her aunt had stood. “I still canna believe Princess Elspeth is dead.”

  Regret filled
King Leod’s eyes as he lifted the gold medallion, and grimaced at the slight mar across the front. “A fate she brought on by her own evil.” He tucked it beneath his garb.

  As Catarine started to speak, she caught sight of Trálin as he wove his way between the warriors toward them. Thank God he was nae harmed! She caught the angst on his face and understood. He hadna met her father and was uncertain of the reception he would receive.

  Nerves rattling through her, Catarine met her father’s eyes. “Father, I bid you to meet the Earl of Grey, Trálin MacGruder, a man who helped us to find Princess Elspeth.”

  Her father’s gave a solemn nod. “Sir Atair explained the circumstance, including why you found it necessary to turn to a human.” He nodded to Trálin. “Lord Grey, my deepest thanks to you and your men for helping my daughter.”

  “Your Grace,” Trálin stated, “I owe Princess Catarine my deepest thanks. Without the aid of her and her warriors, King Alexander and his queen would be dead.”

  “Sir Atair passed along the adventures as of late,” King Leod replied. “’Tis much to take in, details we will discuss later.” With quiet steps, he walked to where Princess Elspeth’s scepter lay and picked it up. For a long moment he studied the extraordinary work, then looked toward Catarine. “I will make sure this is never used for evil again.” He nodded. “Come, ’tis time to go home.”

  Epilogue

  Excitement filled Catarine as she remained still, her eyes closed tight, the lingering scents of lavender, rosemary, and chamomile filling her each breath and heightening her curiosity. For two months now, she’d watched masons and carpenters move up the steps to the new addition on the third floor of Lochshire Castle. And with every question, Trálin had refused to answer, except to reply that in time she would see.

  “Can I open my eyes now?” she asked.

  “My wife is anxious.”

  Trálin’s soft chuckle warmed her heart. “Aye, my husband.” Never would she tire of saying those words, or take for granted every day of the miracle of their lives together.