Lady of the Mountain

by Lyn Armstrong

  Torella pivoted around to find both the Celtic witches standing in the chamber, the stench of fear filled the room and Torella fed off the energy. She walked toward them, calm and self-assured. “Is that any way to greet family?”

  Adela replied, “You are not family.”

  The young witch ran around Torella in a wide berth and checked on Rhiannon’s well being. Picking her up, she held a joyful baby to her chest.

  “What did you do to her?” Gavenia demanded.

  Torella’s smile faded as she snarled, “She is cursed.”

  Adela stepped forward, her eyes darkening. “Remove it.”

  “Too late, witch.” Torella glided casually to the table, a ruby jewel caught her interest and she picked it up to study it in the candlelight.

  “Torella! She is just a baby. Please,” Adela pleaded.

  Pocketing the jewel, she released a droll sigh. She had done what she had come for. Rhiannon would seek her out. The lass would not be able to help herself. By then the girl’s powers would be full and she would be susceptible to Torella’s influence. All she had to do was wait.

  She was about to leave when the chamber filled with more people. Phillip, Tremayne, Callum, Braen and her daughter appeared near the bed.

  Damn that girl!

  Fury filled her being, and she released a loud scream that vibrated throughout the land, knocking over everyone in the chamber. Within four steps, she grabbed Drucilla’s gown at the chest and hauled her up into the air, Merlin’s staff dropped from under her arm and clattered on the stone floor.

  “How did you know you could leave the mountain?”

  Drucilla shook her head. “I did not know.”

  “You would risk killing yourself for these… these people.” She waved her hand around to the scattered bodies on the floor.

  “They are my family,” she replied defiantly and waved her hand, shoving Torella back with an unused power, breaking her mother’s punishing grip. Drucilla’s powers had increased. She must have bedded the wizard.

  “Well your family is about to watch you die,” she said, enjoying the look of terror cross Drucilla’s pale features.

  Braen’s ears rang, and he shook his head. A baby cried in the background, and it slowly pierced louder while the ringing lessened. He glanced up to see Torella lunge for Drucilla, and then they both disappeared.

  “Nae!” he yelled and shot to his feet. “Where did they go?”

  Adela ran to her husband and threw her arms around his neck, kissing his face. “I knew you would return one day.”

  Gradually, everyone stood and hugged each other.

  “Please, someone tell me where the sorceress would take Drucilla. I have to save her.” Braen grabbed Adela’s arm. “Do you know?”

  Adela released her husband and stood in the same place Drucilla had been. Waving her arm through the air, she closed her eyes. “They are nearby.”

  “Where?” he asked.

  She opened her eyes. “They are on the highest turret on the castle roof.”

  Gavenia swayed her baby, soothing her into silence. “Tremayne, can you transport us there?”

  Tremayne shook his head. “Nae, our powers have been bound. I do not know when they will come back.”

  Callum helped his father to his feet and sat him on the bed. “Then we must run.”

  Gavenia gave the baby to Adela and followed Tremayne and Callum out the door. Braen turned to leave when Phillip stopped him. “Save my daughter.”

  Braen clasped the chieftain’s hand in his. “I intend to.”

  When he picked up Merlin’s staff a warm power seized Braen’s body. He straightened his shoulders and pounded the golden rod on the stone floor. A blue light shot from the tip of the rod and engulfed Braen. It felt peaceful as it zigzagged through and around his body, transforming him into a ball of blue light. With only thought guiding him, he floated out of the chamber and shot through the hallway, passing everyone at great speed. He zoomed up a spiral staircase numbered with hundreds of steps until he flew out the passageway onto the castle roof.

  He transformed back into a full-bodied man, Merlin’s staff secured in his hand.

  “Daughter, you have a champion,” he heard Torella’s voice coming from one of the turrets.

  He ran eastward to find Drucilla standing on the edge, her body stiff.

  “Release her,” Braen commanded.

  Torella laughed. “Why would I do that? Once the sun rises—which judging by the orange colors in the sky, will be soon—her soul will be ripped from her body and sent to hell.”

  “Bring her down, now!”

  “Do not get feisty with me, lad.” She strolled to him, her eyes changing color mesmerizing him with a promise of untold pleasure, her hips swaying.

  “Do not let her touch you,” Drucilla called.

  But, it was too late; she ran her finger down his chest and it burned with sensual yearning. His head swam with dizziness, fogging his thoughts and judgment. Without resistance, he leaned toward her, wanting her. Her eyes turned green, the same color as Drucilla’s.

  He shook his head and vaguely heard her voice calling to him.

  Fearful and desperate.

  Torella’s hand was on his hardened member, stroking it with erotic heat powering though his skin.

  Drucilla!

  He pushed the sorceress away. “Your touch sickens me.”

  Her stunning face darkened, her red lips thinning. She waved her hand, and Merlin’s staff flew out of his reach to balance erect on the edge of the wall next to Drucilla.

  She laughed again, the eerie noise sending shivers down his spine.

  “The sun is almost here, but you have a choice. If you go for my daughter, I will not push her over the side, but your precious staff will fall to its doom, breaking the power of Merlin throughout your family.” She stood by his side. “If you go for the staff, we will be entertained as we watch my daughter fall before her soul is taken by the Gods.”

  Linking her arm through his, she walked him closer to the wall. “Decide soon, though. The sun is about to rise.”

  Tears poured down Drucilla’s eyes as she turned her head to see the coming sunrise. “Save Merlin’s staff,” she cried. “I am dead either way.”

  “Ohhh,” Torella crooned and tilted her head. “She is right. Personally, I would save the staff and let her fall.”

  His heart ached with hopelessness.

  “You have three seconds,” Torella said. “One, two…”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “… three!”

  Drucilla closed her eyes, waiting to be pushed off the wall.

  An arm snaked around her waist, pulling her backward to safety. She opened her eyes to see Merlin’s staff leap over the edge and fall.

  Her mother’s cackle grated against her nerves while the sorceress watched the staff plummet toward the ground below.

  Drucilla turned in Braen’s arms, her breath caught in her throat. “You saved me.”

  He gave her a half smile. “Of course I would… I love you.”

  Placing her hands around his neck, she reached up and kissed him, her heart overflowing with love for the wizard.

  A thunderclap boomed across the land and a gusty wind blew through the turret, but Drucilla and Braen held tightly to one another. She buried her head against his chest.

  This was it.

  She would die. Her soul tortured for eternity. Tears streamed down her face, her heart breaking.

  Just when she found love, it would be torn away from her. She closed her eyes tightly shut. “I do not want to see the sun,” she called above the roar of the wind.

  Suddenly, she was lifting from the floor while still in Braen’s arms. She opened her eyes and gasped. A green light surrounded them in a cocoon.

  “What’s happening?” Braen shouted.

  “I do not know.”

  Drucilla look down to find her mother shaking her fist at them, her angry words barely audible.

 
; “Look,” Braen pointed to the east, the sun’s ray warmed her face against the chilly wind. They floated downward, lowering until their feet touched the floor.

  “I… I am still alive,” Drucilla said, happiness sparkling in her chest.

  Her family stood near the wall, smiles on their faces and cheering, “Huzzah!”

  When the wind died down, they raced over to her and hugged her. Even a lady whom she had never met embraced her. “You did it. You both did.”

  Drucilla shook her head. “What did we do?”

  Tremayne placed his arm around her and beamed at Braen. “When the wizard sacrificed his powers for you, showing the Gods that he loved you unconditionally, they deemed you worthy to be saved.”

  “Just in time, too,” Callum announced, smacking Braen’s shoulder.

  “Ungrateful lass,” Torella scoffed. “Do not rest on the seemingly peaceful days. Soon, young Rhiannon will come to me and darkness will descend upon your petty short lives. And there is nothing any of you can do to stop it.”

  The sorceress vanished, her laughter drifting on the wind.

  The lady with the golden hair like Callum’s fell to her knees and cried while Tremayne gathered her into his arms. “Let us return to Rhiannon.”

  She nodded and allowed Tremayne to guide her back through the passageway, and Callum followed.

  Drucilla turned to Braen. “We need to do something to help their baby.”

  “I agree.”

  He opened his arms, and she folded her body to his. “I never thought I would be so pleased to be alive.”

  He kissed her on the lips, warming her body against the winter chill. “I think I have a plan on how we can help your niece.”

  Drucilla arched an eyebrow.

  “But I will need your help. Can you take us down to the bailey?”

  She nodded and tightened her hold around his toned waist.

  They directly appeared in the bailey below and two soldiers guarding the castle door, jumped back in surprise. “’Tis all right, men. We are here to help the Roberts.”

  They suspiciously watched them when Braen ran up the stairs and took a fire sconce to brighten the area. The sun had yet to reach the foggy bailey. He returned, leaping the stairs two at a time. “We need to find Merlin’s staff.”

  “Would it not be in a thousand pieces?”

  “I am hoping Merlin made the staff to withstand anything,” he explained, sweeping the flame from side to side across the ground.

  “The fog is too dense. We need to shed a grander light.” She waved her hand in an arch. “Let Merlin’s staff blaze with life.”

  A yellow glow cut through the mist, beaming from around the corner. They ran around the castle and found the rod intact, laying in the undergrowth.

  Braen picked it up and Drucilla felt power surge through his hand in hers.

  “Hold on tight,” she said and transported them to the same chamber she had arrived in.

  Her father’s face lit up when she appeared with Braen. He sat next to a pretty woman, a baby snuggled in her arms. Phillip stood, his wound noticeably absent. He hugged her. “You are alive.”

  “Aye, thanks to the wizard.”

  Phillip turned to Braen and placed his hand on his shoulder. “I am proud of you, son.”

  “Thank you.”

  Drucilla sat next to the woman with braided brown hair; her eyes softened when she studied her face. “I see you have your mother’s features, but your father’s noble heart.”

  “Phillip told you who I am,” Drucilla stated.

  “Aye, and I am happy to welcome you here.” The lady glanced at Drucilla’s father with adoration. “Any daughter of Phillip’s is a daughter of mine.”

  The rest of the family came through the door and gathered around them, their faces glum, their hearts heavy as they stared at the babe. “What are we going to do about the curse on Rhiannon?” Gavenia sobbed.

  “Lady Gavenia, Tremayne, please hold the baby,” Braen said, his tone serious while he upheld the staff.

  The young blonde lady took the baby from her mother’s arms and stood beside Tremayne while Braen faced them.

  “I cannot undo the curse, however, I can add a blessing.” Braen pounded the staff on the floor and chanted.

  When darkness calls this young lass and she has lost the light

  A man worthy of a knight’s honor, an able hunter pledged to fight

  He will find her, the only one who can,

  Bring her back home and return her to the clan.

  Braen touched the baby’s cheek and jolted. “I foresee this child will be shadowed by dark forces and death. Guard her well and do not judge the man with the cross on his chest. He will bring her back to you.”

  The couple thanked Braen and Drucilla stepped back, impressed with his powers. With the magick of Merlin’s staff, he could help people all over the world.

  “Please stay with us as long as you want,” Phillip offered Braen. “We are indebted to you.”

  Braen shook his head. “Nae, I must go. I have an apology to make to my father.”

  Drucilla’s heart dropped. He was leaving her?

  “For what?” Tremayne asked and his wife elbowed him in the ribs.

  “That is personal,” she whispered.

  “That is all right,” he said and held up a hand. “I was a condescending fool and judged him weak for allowing a beautiful woman to control him.” He stared at Drucilla, and she resisted the tears in her eyes.

  Please do not let him see me cry.

  “But I see that I was wrong,” he continued and walked closer to her. “There is only one thing better than to release one’s stubborn control to a beautiful woman.”

  “What is that?” Callum asked.

  “To love that beautiful woman.” He picked up her hand and placed a tender kiss on it. “Drucilla, this earth may be strange and brutal, but if you allow me, I would like to show its splendor and magnificence… as my wife.”

  Her heart pounded. The chamber went silent, all faces looking at her.

  “Are you sure you have the right woman,” she laughed and cried the words.

  “Aye, I am certain.” His eyes glowed with warmth, and she melted inside.

  “I accept.”

  The room burst into a series of huzzahs and hugs. As she made pledges to return to the family, she watched the wizard laugh and jest with her brothers.

  Tears of joy ran down her cheeks. Braen glanced over and wielded his way through everyone to reach her. He kissed her moist cheeks and folded her in the circle of his protective arms.

  She had everything she ever wanted.

  A family and love that was true.

  It was time to release past hurts. She was no longer trapped, lonely and cursed as the lady of the mountain.

  She was a woman with a future.

  A woman in love with a wizard.

  Read on for a special preview of Witch Hunter,

  book five in Lyn Armstrong’s Celtic Series

  Available January 2009

  At

  www.ResplendencePublishing.com

  Chapter One

  The cool wind clawed at Rhiannon’s golden braid as she raced her sable highland pony across the open glen. Her long-time friend, Mary Mackay laughed from her horse beside her; her bonny, oval face glowed while her wavy auburn hair flicked in the breeze.

  “Make our steeds go faster, Rhee,” Mary shouted, a wicked gleam in her jade eyes.

  Rhiannon peeked over her shoulder to find her personal guards struggling to keep up. She smiled and lowered her head over the pony’s neck. Her rebellious spirit settled in her stomach with bittersweet satisfaction. She was going to get into strife for using magick in the open, but it was worth the exhilaration coursing through her veins.

  “Swift and agile, allow our horses to soar through the air,” she chanted. She turned to Mary and yelled, “Hold on to the saddle horn.”

  With a jerk, their horses hardly touched the ground as t
hey flew along the glen’s soft grass. Traveling faster than any normal animal, they covered leagues within moments. It was not until they reached the base of a mountain, Rhiannon pulled the magick from their mounts. The horses slowed to a walk as if they had not exercised at all.

  “Hazzah!” Mary waved her hand in the air, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

  Rhiannon granted her a half grin and slid from the saddle. She walked her mount over to a nearby tree and tied the reins to a low branch. Her heart still raced from the thrill, but her stomach turned queasy. She lowered to the grass to lie down. Picking a thick, green blade, she chewed on it, the taste bland in her mouth. White puffy clouds endlessly floated by, and Rhiannon took a deep breath, allowing the breeze caress her heated skin.

  “If I had the powers of a Celtic witch and sorcerer, I would enchant a thousand handsome men, gifting me all the exotic jewels I could ever want.” Mary collapsed next her, resting her hands behind her head.

  “Do not envy me, Mary. Because I have the power of good and evil, my family watches me with wary eyes, even the villagers treat me differently than the rest of my enchanted family.”

  “They are jealous,” Mary said. “You are more powerful than your mother and father combined.”

  “Perhaps. Or maybe they are waiting.”

  “Waiting for what?”

  “I know not. However, there seems to be something my family does not want me to know. A secret everyone keeps from me.” Rhiannon turned to her friend, a dull ache in her chest. “Do you know what it could be?”

  “Nae. I do not.” Mary sighed; her large breasts rose and fell within the tight confines of her pink gown. “Although, I am not surprised. Everybody hates me, including your mother.”

  Rhiannon lay back down. “Do not be vexed. She hates me too.”

  Mary scoffed, “She does not. Lady Gavenia is just overly protective.”

  “Aye, she is going to protect me to death.” Rhiannon flicked the chewed piece of grass. “I just wish I were not so… special.”

  Mary turned on her side to face her, the mild smell of perspiration invaded her senses and Rhiannon looked at her beautiful friend. A violet mist gathered around Mary’s body, her copper eyes hooded with half lids, gazing at her with a seductive look. Rhiannon’s heart beat faster, yet her muscles became languid.