Midnight Shadow

by Laurel O'Donnell

  Bria backhanded him with her free arm.

  His head rocked back from her blow, but when he recovered, anger burned in his black eyes. He grabbed her neck. “Bound your breasts to look more like a man. Ingenious.” He squeezed tightly. “But you will die anyway.”

  Kenric’s hand tightened around her throat and she struggled for a breath, gasping for any air she could get into her lungs. She refused to give in to him. The Midnight Shadow would not be defeated so easily. She brought her knees up behind him, pushing him forward. He tumbled over her head, releasing her. Bria tore her cloak free from Kenric’s blade and climbed to her feet, whirling on him.

  He lurched forward, reaching for his blade. His hand closed around the hilt just as Bria put the tip of her sword to his neck.

  Kenric straightened slowly.

  Triumph crested in Bria as she pushed the tip of her blade against Kenric’s throat, forcing his chin higher. “You will never be lord here,” the Midnight Shadow announced.

  “Don’t be so sure,” Kenric said. “As soon as my men defeat the pathetic few knights who remain loyal to your husband, I will be lord of this castle.”

  “They may defeat Terran’s brave men, but they will not defeat the army my father has brought with him today,” Bria assured him.

  Bria saw the uncertainty flash across Kenric’s eyes. He didn’t know whether to believe her or not, but his gaze still darted about as though he were an animal that knew it was trapped. An animal that suddenly became even more dangerous.

  Suddenly, Terran skidded into the room. “Bria!”

  Bria turned at the sound of his voice.

  Without warning, Kenric lashed out, shoving her blade away from his neck and plowing a fist into her stomach. Bria doubled over, gasping for breath as pain exploded across her abdomen. Kenric locked one arm around her neck, holding her sword arm at bay.

  Terran lurched forward, but came to an abrupt halt as Kenric tightened his grip on her throat. “Let her go,” Terran commanded. “Your battle is with me.”

  “If only it were that easy,” Kenric said.

  “She means nothing to you!” Terran cried out.

  “But she means the world to you -- your one weakness. How ironic that your weakness is the enemy you sought so diligently to destroy.” Kenric cackled darkly.

  “You can have the damned castle, just let her go,” Terran said.

  “No!” Bria gasped, struggling. She still held her sword, but Kenric’s hard grip kept it dangling uselessly at her side.

  “How generous to offer it to me,” Kenric sneered, “now that Delaney and his men have come.”

  “Terran,” Bria began, but Kenric tightened his grip on her throat, cutting off her cry. He tried to pry her fingers free of her weapon, but Bria wouldn’t release it. Kenric’s chokehold intensified. Black dots swam before Bria’s eyes. The next thing she knew, Kenric had her sword.

  As her vision cleared, she heard Terran say stoically, “Bria was right. You were the one overtaxing my people, starving them, stealing their gold -- and mine.”

  “Had you taken more interest in your people, it wouldn’t have been so easy. But you were too interested in fighting in your beloved tournaments and impressing Odella.”

  “But why kill her? She was an innocent.”

  “She’d stumbled onto my plan. She’d gone over the ledgers and questioned the people, things you were too lazy to do. I couldn’t let her warn you.”

  Terran’s gaze locked with Bria’s. Panic simmered just below the resolve in his eyes. For the first time, his eyes actually looked warmly brown, instead of black. Bria had to free herself and, in doing so, free Terran to right his wrongs.

  “What do you want?” Terran demanded.

  “Your life, cousin,” Kenric said gleefully. “Only then can I claim this castle as mine.”

  “Release her.”

  “I think not. This is, after all, your hated enemy.” A smile crossed his lips as he pushed the sword tighter against Bria’s throat. He looked at Terran. “There is very soft skin beneath this hood, as I think you know. Let’s find out how soft, shall we?”

  “Noooo!” Terran yelled.

  Bria lifted her elbow and rammed it into Kenric’s stomach.

  Kenric lost his grip on her neck and she leaped forward, out of the way of his swing. She scrambled on all fours toward the door, glancing back over her shoulder to see Kenric looming over her with his weapon raised to strike her down.

  Bria closed her eyes tightly, willing her hands and knees to move faster, but knowing she couldn’t outrun him. She waited for the stinging bite of his steel.

  Instead, she heard the clang of metal against metal and opened her eyes, looking back over her shoulder. Inches from her, two swords were crossed, one intent on killing her, one determined to save her life. Terran stood protectively above her, his eyes glaring into Kenric’s.

  His teeth clenched as he moved Kenric’s sword with the sheer strength of his forearm, his muscles bunched beneath his tunic. Kenric planted his feet, trying to force the weapons down. But in the end, Terran was stronger. He flung Kenric’s weapon up. Bria quickly rose and moved out of the way as Terran forced Kenric’s blade away from her.

  Kenric stumbled back, but righted himself in time to block Terran’s swing. He stepped forward and shoved Terran back, pursuing with a flurry of hacking attacks.

  Terran blocked his attack, each stroke of Kenric’s expertly deflected.

  Bria bent to retrieve Kenric’s weapon, holding it tightly in her fist. She wanted to help, but she knew Terran had to defeat this foe by himself.

  The two men crossed swords and Terran grabbed Kenric’s arm. “You will die for your treachery,” Terran promised.

  Kenric tried to pull free, but Terran wouldn’t let him go. Kenric lunged forward and bit Terran’s fingers. Terran grimaced and released his grip on Kenric’s wrist, pulling his fingers from Kenric’s mouth.

  Kenric immediately slashed at Terran, catching his tunic front.

  Terran looked down at his tunic to see a clean cut right in the middle of his chest. When he lifted his eyes back to Kenric, they were narrowed and deadly. He moved forward, lunging after Kenric. When Kenric put up his sword to block one of Terran’s swings, Terran caught Kenric’s blade. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the sword flying through the air. As it clanged to the ground amidst the rushes, Terran stepped forward and put the tip of his sword to Kenric’s neck. They stared at each other for a long moment, Terran’s jaw tight with emotion.

  Suddenly, Kenric dropped to his knees. “I yield,” he whispered.

  “This is not a tournament,” Terran growled. “You have betrayed me. Die now, or die later.”

  “Please,” Kenric whimpered. “Spare my life. Have mercy. I don’t want to die.”

  Terran stared down at him, his lips twisting in contempt. Then he raised his gaze to Bria.

  They locked eyes. Bria thought she saw the tension and the anger fade from Terran as they gazed at each other. His eyes softened.

  “Then it shall be the dungeon,” he sentenced.

  Kenric didn’t move. Reaching down, Terran pulled him to his feet and dragged him out of the Great Hall toward the dungeon. Bria followed.

  They passed the first guard’s post and then the second, both empty. She waited while Terran proceeded down the dark hallway and opened the door to the same cell that had imprisoned Mary. He shoved Kenric forward, then slammed the door shut behind his cousin, throwing the lock into place. He returned to the lighted section of the guard’s post.

  Behind them, Kenric pounded on the cell door, pleading for mercy.

  “This place reeks of the doomed,” Terran muttered. “Let’s get out of here.”

  When they had ascended back into the Great Hall, Terran lifted his gaze to Bria. “Is your friend well?”

  Bria nodded. “Mary is fine. A bit scared, but I think she will recover.”

  Terran nodded. “Can you forgive me? I should have listened to you fro
m the beginning.”

  A smile crossed Bria’s lips. She raised her hands to slide the cloak from her hair and untie the mask. “Yes,” she admitted as the mask slid from her face. “You should have. But you’re a stubborn lout at times.”

  Terran nodded. “That I am. But I promise to change.” He stepped closer to her. “If...”

  “If?” She turned her head up to see the perfect smile easing across his lips.

  “If the Midnight Shadow returns to whence she came.”

  “The Midnight Shadow will always be near. She is the defender of the people, Lord Knowles, the righter of wrongs, the guardian of the innocent. She is –”

  “I don’t care who she is, as long as she isn’t my wife.” He cupped her chin. “You’ll have more important things to do, like bear me an army of knights.”

  Bria’s eyebrows rose in disbelief. “An army, you say?”

  “At least,” he whispered against her lips before claiming them in a passionate kiss. When he pulled away, he looked deep into her eyes and said solemnly, “No one knows the identity of the Midnight Shadow. Let him return to legend.”

  Bria nodded her head.

  Terran swept her into a tight embrace, kissing her with all the gratitude and love in his heart.

  The Midnight Shadow’s cape tumbled from Bria’s shoulders to pool on the ground.

  Epilogue

  Five years later

  “...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.”

  The small boy lifted his head to Harry. “The Midnight Shadow beat the evil lord?” he asked, a strand of dark hair falling into his bright blue eyes.

  “He most certainly did.” Harry squeezed the boy in a tight hug, kissing the top of his head.

  Bria exchanged a smile with Mary, who knelt on the floor and picked up the boy’s toys, placing them into a chest. Her friend had come to live with them after her rescue by the Midnight Shadows and had quickly become part of the family, helping her keep an eye on her adventurous son. Bria sighed. It seemed just yesterday her grandfather had first told her of the wondrous deeds of the Midnight Shadow.

  Strong arms wrapped around Bria from behind as a gentle but possessive kiss pressed against her neck. She turned to see Terran’s strong profile.

  “We really should set history straight on this evil lord,” Terran murmured.

  Bria chuckled as she turned to embrace her husband. “Surely m’lord does not take such tales seriously?” she teased.

  Terran didn’t smile. “Someday my son will discover the Midnight Shadow rode in his lands. I don’t want him to think I was the evil lord.”

  “But you were. A tyrannical, unjust lord,” Bria said with a wry smile.

  Terran pulled her closer. “Neither tyrannical nor unjust. Just unaware. It took the threat of the Midnight Shadow for me to take an interest in my people and my lands.” He pressed his lips against hers. “And thank the Lord she did.”

  Warmth spread over Bria as their kiss deepened. And she did, indeed, thank the Lord. He’d given her everything she ever wanted in life and more.

  Behind her, she heard her son’s happy voice. “Great Grandfather, tell me the story of the Midnight Shadow again.”

  “Of course,” Harry answered. “He was known far and wide for battling against tyranny and for upholding fairness. He was called the Midnight Shadow...”

  The End

  Thank You

  Dear Reader –

  I’m glad you’ve chosen to read Midnight Shadow. I hope you found the legend of the Midnight Shadow as captivating as the stories of King Arthur and Robin Hood. I so enjoyed those tales that I decided to create my own legend, a hero (or heroine in this case) who battles tyrants and fights for the people. May the Midnight Shadow always fight at your side.

  I hope to entertain you with new exciting tales in the near future.

  Laurel O’Donnell

  www.laurel-odonnell.com

  About the Author

  Laurel O’Donnell has won numerous awards for her works, including the Holt Medallion for A Knight of Honor, the Happily Ever After contest for The Angel’s Assassin, and the Indiana’s Golden Opportunity contest for Immortal Death. The Angel and the Prince was nominated by the Romance Writers of America for their prestigious Golden Heart award. O’Donnell lives in Illinois with her four cherished children, her beloved husband and her five cats. She finds precious time every day to escape into the medieval world and bring her characters to life in her writing.

  Look for these exciting medieval romance novels written by Laurel O’Donnell:

  THE LADY AND THE FALCONER (free preview below)

  THE ANGEL AND THE PRINCE (free preview below)

  A KNIGHT OF HONOR (free preview below)

  CHAMPION OF THE HEART

  And the novella:

  THE BRIDE AND THE BRUTE

  Website: www.laurel-odonnell.com

  Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Laurel-ODonnell/150078331715261

  The Lady and the Falconer Bonus Preview

  The Lady and the Falconer Preview

  Lady Solace Farindale

  With her father at war and her stepmother ruling the castle with disinterest, Solace protects her people the best she can. When a neighboring lord lays siege to the castle, a threat on the lady’s life is discovered. She turns to a man she can’t resist, and puts her trust in a stranger who has captured her heart. Will she discover the secret this man holds before it is too late?

  Logan Grey

  Tormented by guilt and a tragic past, Logan Grey has gained access to the castle disguised as a falconer. With only revenge on his mind, he has no time for the feisty beauty who has caught his eye. In a twist of fate, and a deadly betrayal, Logan must risk his life for the lady who ignited a passion more perilous than war.

  Can love reign in a place where only hate ruled?

  The Lady and the Falconer is an exciting medieval romance filled with action, intrigue, suspense and a desire that defies every sinister obstacle put in its path.

  The Lady and the Falconer - Prologue

  England, 1373

  “Ready or not, here I come!” a young girl’s voice cried out in the distance.

  Solace Farindale pressed a hand over her mouth and giggled, scrunching lower behind three bales of hay. She didn’t know where her friend Gwen was hiding because as soon as Helen had begun counting, she’d run into the barn and dove behind the hay. Lillian, her maidservant, would no doubt be angry that she had dirtied her new velvet dress, but Solace couldn’t resist such a perfect hiding place. The sweet smell of straw filled her nose, and several strands tickled her back as she settled into her spot. She loved coming to visit Helen on her farm. She and Gwen had begged their fathers to let them go, just for the afternoon, and after much pleading the men had reluctantly agreed. It was half a morning’s ride from Gwen’s home, but well worth it.

  Finally, after a brief moment of expectant waiting, Solace peeked through a slit between the hay bales. The barn was empty. Several stalls that used to house horses now stood vacant. Solace knew Helen’s parents had to sell the beasts off because their crops had yielded a poor harvest last year. Solace scanned the narrow area of the barn that she could see through the opening, but there was still no sign of Helen. She shrugged and settled back to wait.

  Then she heard the barn door creak open. Her eyes widened and again she placed a hand over her mouth as she slid lower behind the hay, afraid her giggles would give her away. But there was no scurry of searching feet, no calls of her name.

  Solace shifted and peered through the slit between the hay bales. She glimpsed a woman grabbing a rusty bucket from the ground and carrying it to an empty stall across from her. It was only Helen’s mother, Anne. Solace’s gaze flew to the door. Where is Helen? she wondered.

  Anne placed the bucket on the ground
next to a small pile of seeds. She scooped up a handful with her cupped palm and dumped them into the bucket.

  “Good afternoon, Anne,” a man called out. His deep, guttural voice gave the greeting a harshness that belied the innocence of his words.

  Solace heard Anne gasp and she tilted her head, leaning closer to the narrow opening between the bales. She saw two men dressed in chain mail lurking near the door and one man standing inside the barn. She nervously twirled a strand of dark hair around her finger as a feeling of fear engulfed her. The tall man wasn’t a good man. She could sense the evil in him, as if a dark cloud belonged over his head. His hair was immaculate, styled in a fashionable bowl-cut, black as the night. The red velvet of his jupon was tailored to his chest and arms, padded somewhat at the chest and shoulders to accent their broadness. The collar reached all the way to his neck. He had the coldest blue stare she had ever seen.

  “Lord Randol,” Anne greeted with a slight bow.

  Randol sauntered closer to her. “Looks like you’ve kept the barn in good order.”

  “It’s our living, m’lord. We take good care of our things.”

  “Perhaps you should take as good care of your lord,” he grumbled. “Where’s your husband?”

  “In the fields, of course, m’lord,” she replied.

  Solace watched lord Randol nod as if he already knew what Anne would say. “I’m here for my taxes, Anne.”

  “M’lord, my husband explained to you that the rains and the flooding have washed out most of the crops.”