Lady of the Mountain

by Lyn Armstrong

  Callum shrugged as they watched the sorcerer walk confidently toward the oncoming wolves.

  “He’s going to get mauled,” Braen hissed.

  “Perhaps. But, he has tamed wolves before.”

  “Let us hope these are just as amenable. Otherwise, once they are finished with him, they will be coming for us.” Wrapping the reins around his gloved hand, Braen pulled his sword with the other and held his breath.

  The wolves surrounded Tremayne, barking and snarling while he stood with his head high and folded his arms across his chest. His gaze remained straight ahead as if taunting his sister.

  “What is he doing?” Callum asked.

  “I guess he is claiming his space.”

  The wolves came close to biting his legs but did not connect with his flesh. Once they became quiet, they sniffed his legs and one by one, they fell back and sat at his feet, their tongues lolling out while panting.

  Tremayne then looked at each one and patted them on the head. Their tails wagged while he spoke softly to them. Then they bounded back up the hill and ran past Drucilla. Her growl was louder than the wolves as she twirled around and disappeared.

  Braen laughed low in his throat. “I admire her persistence.”

  “Aye, until she kills us,” Callum said ominously.

  Tremayne joined them and took his horse’s reins from Braen. “If my sister wanted us dead, then we would be so. She has the same powers as my mother; however, she may not yet know how to use them.”

  “I pray that she never finds out,” Callum said and swung onto his mount. “Are you coming?”

  Braen stared at the top of the hill where the sorceress had stood. He wished things were different. He wanted to hold her, to talk about the curse on her life. Did she even know about it?

  “Master Braen?” Callum interrupted his musings.

  The two men looked down at Braen from their horses.

  “Are you ready?” Tremayne asked.

  “Aye.” Braen nodded and lifted himself into the saddle. “This boggy path should lead us straight to Mount Suilven.”

  They rode up the steep hill. As they cleared the rise, instead of the last rays of sun glaring into their eyes, a tall shadow blocked their view.

  Braen pulled on the reins, despair lodged in his chest. Looking east and west, a massive stonewall barricaded them from continuing forward.

  “I will strangle that lass when I get my hands on her,” Braen growled.

  Callum laughed. “Did you not just say you admired her persistence?”

  Tremayne said, “It looks to go for several leagues in both directions. This will add many days to our journey. Or…”

  Braen looked at Tremayne’s wicked grin. “Oh no,” Braen shook his head. “You are not using magick to fly me over the wall.”

  “That is a wondrous idea,” Callum agreed. “We will have to leave the horses here, but at least we could continue on foot.”

  “You two may fly over, but I will climb, thank you very much,” Braen protested.

  “Very well then.” Tremayne shrugged.

  They gathered their provisions and pulled off the horses’ saddles. Braen sadly watched as his bay horse ran free with the others. He liked that stupid stallion.

  Tremayne transformed into a falcon hawk and flew over the wall while Callum mumbled a spell beneath his breath. His body soon floated upwards.

  “This is where Merlin’s staff would be practical,” he grumbled. Slinging his saddlebag over his shoulder, he climbed the stones one at a time. The wall seemed to go on forever. The muscles in his arms and thighs burned while sweat dripped into his eyes, stinging them.

  The saddlebag seemed to weigh more than it did when he started. He scanned up to the top of the wall, not much further now. Gritting his teeth, he absorbed the pain and pushed through the ache. If he faltered, he would fall to his death.

  “The damn warlock could have taken my bag with him,” he mumbled and pushed his wobbly legs to take another stone.

  “Tsk, tsk, such bitter words for your ally,” Drucilla’s silky voice floated down to him.

  He looked up to find her sitting on the top of the wall, her legs crossed while her white gown and cloak floated around her feet.

  He clenched his jaw. “Leave me be, woman.”

  “And miss seeing you struggle?” The tinkling of her laughter was annoyingly sweet.

  “Argh.” Braen raised another stone higher—the muscles in his arms shaking.

  “I could lower you safely back to the ground,” she offered.

  “Nae!”

  “All right,” she answered, and hummed a tune while drumming her fingers on her knee. “Ah—do not fall.”

  “Thanks for the counsel,” his voice held an undertone of cold sarcasm.

  “My pleasure.” She hummed a tune again, and peered at the sky. “It really is pretty out here, I do not get out of the mountain much, well, until recently—”

  “Do you mind leaving me be,” he grunted and hauled himself higher.

  “I am certain I have already answered you,” she replied in a serious tone.

  With the last of his strength, he reached the top of the wall. He rolled over on the wide stones, his hand clutching his chest while gasping for air, his arms and legs weak and limp.

  The last orange rays of sun streaked across the sky as Drucilla’s lovely face hovered over his line of vision, her raven hair falling beside her pink cheeks. Damn her for being so beautiful when all he wanted to do was throttle her. That was if he even had the energy to hold his arm up.

  “You look exhausted,” she said.

  He was not about to let her know she had affected him. With a resolute willpower, he tightened his stomach muscles and sat up. She floated backward when he pushed to his feet and wiped the sweat from his brow. He shifted his saddlebags upon his shoulder. “I am not spent, and I will be coming for you. So you can flutter around in your spirit form, but when I get to the mountain, I will spank your buttocks until you beg for clemency.”

  She glided back, and he advanced, his gaze locked on her cagey grin.

  Why was she smiling at him? She should be terrified.

  With one more step, his foot did not contact solid rock. Swiftly, he stumbled over the side of the wall and fell through the air. His last thoughts were of his stupidity and the sudden look of delight as Drucilla watched him fall.

  Thwack!

  He landed in a tall stack of hay, breaking his fall.

  “Braen!” Callum called to him while Braen struggled to climb out of the hay. Finally, he fell down the stack and rolled to the damp ground near two sets of muddy boots.

  Their laughter roared in his ears as he managed to right himself and leaped to his feet. Scowling, he looked up to find Drucilla laughing just as hard as her brothers.

  “Whoever placed this hay here for me, thank you,” Braen said to the men and dusted straw off his clothes.

  “’Twas not us,” Tremayne offered. “We did not know you were up there until you hit the ground.”

  Braen’s mouth opened while he stared at them.

  Callum pointed upward.

  Braen refused to look up at the sorceress again. He would not thank her; she was the reason he had fallen in the first place. Lifting his head and hoping his dignity would follow, he marched north along the path, not caring if the others followed.

  He walked until the darkness completely engulfed the land. While the moon was high and full, casting blue light upon the moors, it was not safe to travel any further.

  He dropped his saddlebag and waited for the men to join him.

  “How much further?” Callum collapsed on the ground.

  Braen pointed at a solid shadow on the other side of a small loch. “See the mountain that looks like a gray pillar?”

  Callum and Tremayne nodded while squinting through the darkness.

  “That is Mount Suilven, named by the Vikings.”

  “We are here?” Callum asked, astonishment lacing his voi
ce.

  “Aye, we are here,” Braen replied. “Tremayne, when the sun rises, I want you to take to the skies and see whether there is an opening.”

  The sorcerer nodded.

  Braen continued, “Callum, you and I must conjure a spell to break the mountain’s curse, involving all three powers, united as one.” He faced them both with determination. The weariness etched on their faces mirrored the sore muscles in his body. Nevertheless, he would not give up. He had come too far. “We will find your father and take back what is rightfully mine.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Drucilla’s smile faded as apprehension swept through her. Although she was having fun, the men were almost at the mountain. She had failed to keep them at bay.

  Relentless fools.

  Especially the wizard. She had known he was walking to the edge of the wall, but wanted to watch him fall. Of course, she summoned a stack of hay for him. However, he was acting so damn stubborn and arrogant. She could not help herself in luring him to his demise.

  “Spank my buttocks,” she grumbled and shrugged out of her cloak. “I would like to see him try.”

  Slamming the door behind her, she stormed down the hallway toward her father’s chamber. Her cream-colored gown floated in a tail behind her, swishing to mirror the tension increasing within her. What was she going to do if they broke through the mountain’s defenses? Her mother warned her she must kill them. They would take her father away along with Merlin’s staff, leaving her in an empty mountain with no food or shelter.

  She could not let that happen.

  Arriving at her father’s chamber, she knocked lightly on the door.

  “Enter,” a masculine voice called from the other side.

  Drucilla opened the door and found her father cleaning his weapons.

  “Ah, my daughter, I am glad you have come. I want you to find a safe place to hide for the morrow. I do not want these heathens to capture you, should they get passed me.”

  “You know of the men coming?” Drucilla asked.

  “Aye, your mother told me everything.”

  She stiffened in shock. “Everything?”

  Did he know one of the heathen’s was his son?

  “Does the name Callum mean anything to you?” she asked, watching his expression closely.

  “Nae, should it?”

  Mother did not share everything.

  “That is the name of a warlock.”

  Phillip lifted another broadsword from the wall and cleaned it with a cloth. “I need to gather all the weapons in the castle.”

  “Father,” she said and took the sword from him and replaced it on the wall. “There is something you should know.”

  Phillip touched her cheek and gave her an uncertain smile. He gathered her into his arms. “I won’t fail you, Drucilla. No one shall take you away from me.”

  A lump formed in her throat and tears welled in her eyes.

  “I will keep you safe,” he murmured against her hair and kissed her head.

  Guilt infested childhood hurt and loneliness, making her want to cry all the harder. She had to take the enchantment off her father and tell him the truth, but then he would be angry with her and leave her to live alone again.

  Curse those men for coming, threatening her relationship with her father. Callum had his father all his life; was it so wrong for her to want more time with Phillip?

  He wiped the tears off her cheeks. “Do not worry, my dear. All will be well,” he said soothingly.

  She swallowed and nodded. “Can I get you something to eat?” she feebly asked.

  “Nae, I am content.”

  Drucilla bit her lip and left her father to his weapons. Perhaps, she still had time to fix things.

  Walking down the hall, she was lost in her thoughts when she heard Silas’ voice around the corner. He must be speaking with her mother. She should hide in a room and allow them to past or else Silas may be punished for being in male form in front of her.

  Opening a door, she stood behind it—their voices sounded muffled through the oak.

  “You have got to tell her,” Silas pleaded.

  “Nae, she does not need to know,” her mother replied coolly. “Would you want to know your soul was going to hell in two days?”

  Drucilla stifled a cry with her hand.

  “Allow my daughter the chance to enjoy her last days on earth.”

  “There must be a way we could save her, a counter spell or—”

  “Nae! There is nothing,” her mother snapped. “You should be more concerned about what will happen to you.”

  The sound of her mother’s footsteps retreated into the distance, along with Silas’ boots. Drucilla opened the door to an empty hallway. Her hands shook with dread.

  She would die in two days from a curse. In two days, she would be twenty-five. What had her mother said? Her soul would go to hell? She could not go back there. She would not be one of the tortured souls she had seen growing up. They would hover above her, moaning and crying in their never-ending pain. In time, she had learned to shut them out, to survive, but it always left her in fear of becoming one of them.

  The bitter chill of betrayal ran through her veins at the thought of her mother knowing all along of her pending death, and keeping it from her. Tears blurred her vision and she ran back to her chamber. She had only two days left with her father.

  She collapsed on her bed, a sense of numbness overwhelming her.

  Two days left.

  Only two days.

  The eve crawled by as the false light outside rose, bringing in the new day. Drucilla tossed and turned in bed, panic and despair keeping her awake. Unfortunately, the daylight did not bring with it any sense of peace, but it did give her time to find clarity on the solitude of her life. If she had one last wish, it would be to discover the world outside her books. With someone who truly loved her. By day he would match his wits against hers and by night, make passionate love with the same amount of zeal. She wanted a man who was exciting and handsome, passionate and humorous, yet gallant and noble.

  A man like the wizard.

  Drucilla swung her legs over the edge of the bed and wiped her tired, gritty eyes. She must forget about the wizard. Aye, he was fun to play with and a great lover, but he did not care for her. He only wanted the staff.

  And what did any of that mean to her now that she was going to die?

  But, she would not go with defeat in her soul. She would fight for what was hers. Her father and the staff. They belonged to her and she would not give them up easily. They were all she had.

  Donning a yellow gown trimmed in black lace, she combed her hair and braided it down her back. Today would be a long day. She walked to her table and lifted the black velvet cloak that hid the scrying bowl. Grasping a silver goblet of red wine, she took a sip, allowing the rich, full-bodied texture slid around her mouth before the liquid smoothly burned a path down her throat. Tipping the goblet, she poured the rest into the metallic basin.

  “Show me what I want to see.”

  The dark wine bubbled, and a violet mist floated around the edges. A vision appeared of the wizard, warlock and sorcerer. They had traveled beyond the loch and stood side by side at the southwestern base of the mountain.

  Braen’s husky voice echoed through the wine. “Tell me what you saw when you flew around the mountain.”

  The sorcerer answered, “The summit is broad and is surrounded by vertical cliffs. I did not see an entrance of any kind.”

  “As one, none of us can enter, but using the powers of all three, we have a chance of breaking the enchanted barrier,” Braen said.

  Curse those men and their imprudent powers! Drucilla leaned closer to the bowl. Please don’t work, please don’t work.

  “Men, link your arms and repeat after me,” Braen ordered, his brown eyes determined and narrow.

  With the power of wizard, sorcerer and warlock

  We call upon the ancient forces of earth

  Lift the cu
rse covering this mountain

  Allow us to enter and discover its worth.

  The mountain rumbled loudly around Drucilla, she looked up while dust and pieces of the ceiling fell around her. She ran to the window to see bits of rock falling in the garden and splashing in the waterfall. She rushed back to the bowl.

  Outside the mountain, rocks moved to open a portal for the three intruders.

  She clenched her hand until her nails imprinted her palms. “Men! Curse them all.”

  Soon, they would enter a series of long tunnels below. Drucilla tucked her hair behind her ear. If they went down the wrong passageway, they would be lost for days. She gloried briefly in wicked delight.

  She envisioned the wizard and instantly transported to where he stood in the mountain cave, her brothers entering behind him. They did not see her as she ran over to the mouth of a large tunnel that led deeper into the mountain. She casually leaned on the rock wall, and cleared her throat.

  All three swiveled in her direction, their bodies stiffening on guard. She giggled, enjoying the fear on their faces. No wonder her mother loved being evil. Perhaps her mother’s blood ran thicker inside her than her father’s.

  Braen schooled his features with indifference and boldly stood so close she could smell his breath. A part of her wanted to step away, in case he noticed her spirit was embodied, but her heart demanded that she stand her ground and soak the nearness of him into her soul.

  His copper eyes stared into hers, studying her, acknowledging her as a woman. His emotions changed from frustration to desire. Her body tingled with anticipation, her skin aching with a need to be touched. She glanced down at his lips and remembered the sensation of them as they captured her mouth. She sighed and looked back into his eyes.

  He offered her a cocky smile as if he knew the erotic desire he held over her. She went to push him away, and he instinctively reacted by grabbing her wrists. His eyes widened with contact of her flesh.

  “Not in spirit this time, sorceress.” Irritation and longing lacing his words.

  He quickly planted a kiss on her lips and Drucilla melted beneath his onslaught.

  Orange light illuminated the dark cave as the other men lit their fire sconces.

  She broke the embrace. “You fool. There is more danger in these tunnels than you realize. Unearthly monstrosities not even I can control.” Touching her lips, she transported back to the safety of her chamber.