MIDNIGHT SHADOW
By Laurel O’Donnell
Smashwords Edition
Copyright © 2011 by Laurel O’Donnell
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Table of Contents
Copyright
Reviews for Laurel O’Donnell’s books
Title Page
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Epilogue
Thank You
About the Author
Free Bonus Preview of The Lady and the Falconer
Free Bonus Preview of The Angel and the Prince
Free Bonus Preview of A Knight of Honor
Reviews for books by Laurel O’Donnell
Praise for Midnight Shadow
“Part-highwayman, part-adventure romance, this entertaining novel is sure to please both medieval romance readers and anyone seeking a light, captivating adventure. Laurel O’Donnell captures the essence of the period as well as the excitement and sheer romance of the Middle Ages.”
- RT Book Reviews
“There's nothing like a wonderfully written romance that includes everything from excitement and intrigue to despair and triumph. Such a novel discourages readers from putting the book down, lest we miss new adventures waiting around the next corner. Laurel O'Donnell has managed to do just that and so much more in the Midnight Shadow.”
- The Romance Reader
Praise for The Lady and the Falconer
“Medieval readers will find The Lady and the Falconer a highly satisfying, well crafted story that fills their craving for a tale of medieval intrigue and passion.”
- Romantic Times Magazine
“What a good book! Engrossing and enticing.”
“In a word, HOT! Wonderful book! Well written! Exciting!”
- Amazon Reviews
“Captivating from the very first to the very last page.”
-Affaire de Coeur
Praise for A Knight of Honor
“The action never slows in this adventurous tale.”
- Romantic Times Magazine
Winner of the Holt Medallion Award for Best Medieval Novel
Praise for The Angel and the Prince
“Pageantry, excitement and high adventure brought to vivid life.”
- Flora Speer, author of FOR LOVE AND HONOR
“A wonderful debut, lush, sensual, and rich in history.”
- Jane Kidder, author of PASSION’S GIFT
“This extraordinary tale offers non-stop action, unforgettable characters and a sensuous romance, the likes of which ballads are written. This romance will capture your heart and your imagination.”
- Rendezvous Magazine
“Wow! A magnificent tale that builds tension till you want to explode!”
- Affaire de Coeur
Nominated for the Romance Writers of America Golden Heart Award
Midnight Shadow
by
Laurel O’Donnell
Prologue
England 1415
“... and he brandished his sword above his head, declaring, ‘Tyranny will not be tolerated! All people will be treated fairly!’ With that, the Midnight Shadow whirled away on his horse and disappeared over the horizon.”
Bria Delaney sat on her grandfather’s lap listening to the beloved tale of her favorite hero, but it couldn’t erase her heartache. She glanced down at her lap and folded her hands. “I wish Father was here,” Bria grumbled.
“Every man must fight against tyranny in his own way, child.” Harry held Bria close to him. “Your father didn’t want to leave you, but he had to fight beside the King. He is duty bound to the wishes of the crown.” His old, wrinkled hand wiped a tear from her smooth cheek. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and brushed back her curly brown locks.
“I want to go with him,” Bria said. “I want to fight against tyranny, too.”
The timbre of her grandfather’s laughter made Bria scowl fiercely. “They are armed men, Bria. What can a child do against an army? No. War is no place for you.”
Bria crossed her arms and jutted out her lower lip. “I hate the French.”
Harry chuckled, his entire body shaking. “Most of England does, my dear.” He pulled her against him, hugging her. Then Harry set her on the ground, patting her bottom lightly. “Go. Mary and Garret are waiting for you.”
“I don’t feel like playing today,” Bria said glumly.
“Ah, but who knows what grand adventure awaits you? If you brood all day in the castle, you might miss it,” Harry reminded her.
Bria glanced up at her grandfather’s warm, smiling face. Adventure. That word always seemed to stir her senses and rouse her imagination. The wet smear of tears on her cheeks was quickly forgotten.
Bria nodded and ran out of the room. She raced through the corridors of her father’s castle, practically flying down a set of spiraling stone steps. As she burst from the stairway, a woman carrying an armful of laundry stepped into her path. Bria twisted her body with the agility of an eight year old and barely missed knocking into her. “Sorry!” she called over her shoulder as she charged down a corridor to a large set of open double doors. She raced through the doors, leaping down over the last two steps to land in the dust of the inner ward.
The warm sun washed over her, forcing her to squint. She dashed through the inner ward, slowing long enough to leap over a puddle, then hurried through the outer ward, sprinting past the blacksmith’s workshop, oblivious to the loud clang of metal against metal.
“Bria!”
A man standing near the outer gatehouse waved her over. It was Jason of Victors. She recognized him by his red beard and carrot-colored hair. His chainmail coif shone in the bright sunlight as if he had just polished it. His white tunic bore a flying falcon over a red cross, the crest of the Delaneys.
She hurrie
d over to him.
“Good morn, child,” Jason greeted warmly with a slight bow.
Bria smiled at him.
“I’m to deliver you a message,” Jason added softly, almost conspiratorially. He glanced around the area, then motioned for Bria to come closer.
Bria anxiously stepped closer. “What message?” she wondered.
“Garret and Mary have pursued the French dogs onto Knowles’ lands in the east woods. They are in desperate need of your assistance.” Jason pulled back from her, nodding with a knowing look.
A grin burst upon Bria’s face, bringing a happy sparkle to her eyes.
“Hurry now,” Jason urged. “They may already be vastly outnumbered.”
Bria wasted no time in darting beneath the outer gatehouse, remembering to turn and wave good-bye to Jason just as her slippered feet slapped against the wooden planks of the lowered drawbridge. She ran toward the meadows that surrounded Castle Delaney, her smile making her entire face radiant.
The sounds of horses’ hooves, chickens clucking, and the distant sound of swords clanging grew farther and farther away as she left the castle and the village behind to enter the relative quiet of the grassy fields surrounding Castle Delaney. As she bounded through the grass that rose almost to her neck, her mind replayed the story of the Midnight Shadow -- the way he fought against tyranny and protected the weak. His generosity and his courage were unequaled. She wanted to be just like him.
She thrust at an imaginary foe, cutting down a stalk of grass with her hand. “Take that, you insufferable French cur,” she growled. She spun and chopped at another stalk. “For England!” she cried.
Bria bounded through the stalks and into the forest separating her family’s lands from the Knowles’ lands. She raced headlong into the brush, knowing the way well, having traveled it often to Mary’s farm. Mary and Garret would be fighting the French somewhere in these woods, probably near the pond by Mary’s house.
“Garret!” Bria called, halting to listen as she reached the edge of a small clearing. “Mary!” But there was no response, only the caw of a distant bird. Bria picked up her brown velvet skirt and raced deeper into the woods toward Mary’s house.
After a minute she halted again, breathing hard. “Garret!” she called. “Mary! Where are you?”
She bit her lip lightly. Maybe she should go back. She looked over her shoulder in the direction of Castle Delaney.
The Midnight Shadow would never leave his friends alone in the woods at the mercy of the French. The thought pierced her mind and bolstered her courage.
As she moved slowly through the woods, the dried twigs and leaves crunched beneath her feet. She paused again to call out for her friends. “Mary! Garret!”
An eerie silence answered her. She looked around the quiet forest, her instincts telling her to flee. But how could she leave her friends?
Then she heard the crunch of approaching footsteps. “Mary?” she called hesitantly.
A figure emerged from behind one of the trees in front of her, but it wasn’t Mary. As the shape neared, Bria recognized the boy and gasped silently. Randolph Kenric. He was bigger than she was and four years older. His brown hair hung loose around his shoulders. He looked like a wild animal.
The silence around her grew even more thick and ominous. Kenric once skinned a kitten just to see how loud it could howl.
Bria stepped back. Her foot landed on a branch and snapped it in half. He turned his head and his brown hair fell into his eyes. He swiped the strands away to glare at her.
Bria took another step back.
Kenric smiled. “Ahhh,” he said. “The heir to Castle Delaney. You’re a little off your lands, aren’t you?”
“I’m looking for my friends,” she admitted.
“Which one? The peasant girl I shoved in the mud or the sniveling little boy?”
Anger pierced her, and her small fingers clenched into a fist. What gave him the right to treat her friends like that? Her eyes raked him with rage. “You’re a mean cur, Randolph Kenric,” she told him and turned to march toward Castle Delaney.
“Hey,” Kenric called. “Didn’t your father just leave to fight some war?”
Bria didn’t answer him. She swatted aside a branch, continuing to move through the forest back toward her lands, her home.
Suddenly, she was yanked to a halt by biting fingers digging into her arm. Kenric wrenched her around to face him. “Don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you,” he commanded. “What kind of manners were you brought up with?”
“Let go of me,” Bria ordered.
“Is that a command, your ladyship?”
She tried to pull her arm free, but he held her wrist tightly.
“I just asked you a question,” he said innocently. “But you’re too good for the likes of me, eh?” He chuckled low in his throat. “I’m not nobility like yourself, after all, just a poor cousin of the Knowles. Shall I grovel before you, my lady?”
Bria twisted her arm. “Let me go,” she said again, trying to sound commanding. But her voice caught in her throat as tears of fear stung her eyes.
“You need a lesson in humility.” He began dragging her through the forest.
Bria dug in her heels, but her slippered feet were no help on the leaf-carpeted forest floor, nor against Kenric’s strength. She tried to pull his fingers from her wrist, but he held her tight. He pulled her deeper into the woods, into the darkness. “Stop it!” Bria called.
“You know, running through the forest alone isn’t such a good idea,” Kenric said. “You might fall into a bramble patch.”
Bramble patch! Horror consumed Bria. She twisted and turned, trying to free herself, pushing at his hand with her free one. But his laughter rang out, as strong and vicious as his hold.
Kenric reached the edge of the bramble patch and stopped. Bria stared at the dangerous growth, the thorns looking like millions of miniature daggers. Some were long and straight like blades, others curved like hooks. All of them were sharp. She struggled against his hold, pulling at his grip, crying, “Why are you doing this?”
Kenric turned his dark smile from the spiked plants to her face. “Because I want to.”
“Let her go!” a male voice commanded.
Bria looked up to see a man cloaked in black, a black mask on his face, a black cape on his shoulders. The Midnight Shadow! He stood at the edge of the woods, his hands on his hips, his back tall and straight.
Kenric turned to look... and then broke out in a grin. “You must be joking!”
“I said let her go!” the Midnight Shadow repeated.
Kenric tightened his grip on Bria’s hand. “Come and get her.”
The Midnight Shadow moved forward, pulling a wooden sword from his belt.
Kenric tossed Bria aside. She landed hard on her hands and knees, the cluttered mass of branches and rocks of the forest floor scraping her flesh. Bria lifted her gaze in time to see Kenric pull a dagger from his belt as he approached the Midnight Shadow -- a real dagger, made of hardened steel. Kenric advanced upon the Midnight Shadow, waving the metal before him.
Bria climbed to her feet, dread constricting her chest as the Midnight Shadow took a brave step toward Kenric. They faced each other for a long moment. Then the Midnight Shadow swung at Kenric. Kenric ducked the blow, but the Midnight Shadow swung back, glancing a blow off Kenric’s head, the wooden sword clunking against his skull.
Bria gaped as Kenric fell back to his bottom with a grunt. Joy exploded through her and she took a step toward her hero, but halted as Kenric shook his head, clearing it, and climbed to his feet. The Midnight Shadow arced his blade at Kenric’s head, but Kenric caught the blow in his open palm. He yanked the wooden sword from the Midnight Shadow’s grip and bashed him in the head with it.
Bria watched in horror as her noble hero fell to his knees before the evil Kenric.
Kenric reached down and ripped the mask from the Midnight Shadow’s face, revealing a face Bria knew very well. Sh
e gasped. It was Garret!
Kenric laughed again, and again hit Garret’s head with the wooden sword.
Garret toppled to his side and Bria lurched forward, seizing Kenric’s arm as he raised the weapon to strike another blow. “Stop!” she cried. “Don’t hurt him anymore!”
Kenric snorted and threw the sword down on top of Garret. He turned to Bria.
She took a step back, but Kenric locked his hand around her wrist. “Looks like your rescuer didn’t save you after all.”
“No!” she cried. But before the impulse to free herself overcame her fear, Kenric jerked her forward.
Bria felt herself falling, the thorns growing larger and larger as she plummeted toward the bramble patch. She reached out attempting to brace herself from the fall. She turned her head from the thorns and squeezed her eyes shut. One of her hands landed on a small thorn and she cried out, pulling away from it. Other thorns stabbed at her arms, her legs, her back. The branches caught and snagged her clothing and her hair, pulling and ripping.
Panicked, Bria fought to be free. But the more she struggled, the more entangled her clothes and hair became, the deeper the thorns dug into her. Frightened, hurt, Bria stilled her fight. Her entire body was aflame with pain.
Through tear-filled eyes, she looked up and saw Kenric standing at the edge of the briar patch, staring down at her, laughing and laughing, his mouth big and wide, his thin lips stretched tight. Slowly, he turned away and moved off into the forest, his laughter still echoing in her ears.
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