by Donna Grant
“I heard someone speaking, but I could not make out the words—or maybe I had no wish to. Then the screams began. My sisters, my brothers, and my father. They were all yelling, terrified and in pain. My mother sobbed and begged for it to end, and all the while, I heard the maniacal laughter and felt heat from fires so hot that I can feel them on my cheeks even now. Each time one of the screams faded, the woman laughed harder, delighting in the pain and death. Then, there was only my mother left.”
Ravyn paused and drew in a shaky breath. “She kept one hand by her side, gripping her skirts where my hand was. There was no need for her to tell me to keep hidden. I knew. She had stopped begging at this point. She stood still as stone while fire crackled all around us. There was a long stretch of silence. I can only imagine that my mother and the witch had some kind of stare down. In a split second, the witch took my mother’s life. When she died, she fell backward, on top of me, but it prevented the witch from finding me.”
“How long did you stay there?” Carac asked.
Ravyn looked down at her hands. “At first, I was terrified to move. I had no idea if the woman was still there, and I had no wish to leave my family. I remained there as the smell of burning bodies filled the air. It could have been days, I know not. When I did finally think to leave, I had to work hours to move from beneath my mother. That’s when I got a look at what was left of my family. All six of my siblings and my father had been burned, along with everything else. My mother had been...decapitated.”
A muscle twitched in Carac’s jaw. “And no one would take you in?”
“They were frightened the woman would return. I had no idea it was a witch who killed my family until Edra found me. She stopped the beating I was being given and brought me to the abbey. She gave me a home, food, and a new family. There, I learned about witches. Edra had been hunting the one who murdered my family. Otherwise, I probably would have starved to death.”
Carac nodded slowly. “The news Simon brought of a witch killing the family brought back all of the memories.”
“It did. As soon as I decided to become a Hunter, I knew I wanted to find the woman who took my family from me. There is a chance that Sybbyl could be that witch.”
Chapter 19
If he’d thought Ravyn was a warrior before, Carac knew for certain now after hearing what happened to her and her family. It was no wonder she worked so tirelessly to hunt down witches.
“If Sybbyl is the witch you search for and you kill her, what will you do then?” Carac asked.
Ravyn stretched her legs out before her and crossed her ankles. “The fight with the Coven is just beginning. Ridding the world of the witch who slaughtered my family is one of the goals I hope to achieve, but there are many other evil witches out there.”
“Have you thought about asking witches to join you?”
“Of course, but most are hiding from the Coven because once the Coven finds them, they either join the group or die.”
“I have not seen any women with tattoos as you have. What does the one on your back mean?”
Ravyn grinned. “The Ouroboros. It is the symbol that Edra and Radnar chose for our group. Some see the snake and believe it to be evil. When in fact, the symbol signifies infinity.”
“It is stunning.”
“Each of us chooses where we have it. Some are small, some are not.”
Carac glanced at the door. “How many Hunters are there?”
“Not nearly enough. There is only a handful of us.”
It was no wonder Braith had reached out to him. Knights may not be trained like Ravyn and the other Hunters, but they were well versed in war. With the right weapons, they could do a lot of damage if working with the Hunters.
“What made you become a knight?”
Ravyn’s question pulled him from his thoughts. He stared at her a long moment. They had shared their bodies and souls during the night, and while they hadn’t spoken, there was no denying that a bond had formed between them.
She’d shared the story of her traumatic childhood. Perhaps it was time he did the same. It had become such a practice to keep his identity secret that it was second nature.
“My training began early,” he told her. “My father wanted a son who could defend his lands and people with him.”
Ravyn’s eyes widened a fraction before her brow furrowed. “Lands?”
“The only one who knows my true name is Simon. I am Duke Carac de Vere.”
“Why would you let others believe you are something other than a lord?” she asked incredulously.
Carac’s mind drifted to the past, a time he longed to forget. “My father was deeply in love with my mother. I was only five summers when she died in childbirth. My father was distraught. He turned to drink, drowning himself in it to dull the pain.
“It became so bad that my uncle began helping around the castle since I was too young. But I looked after my younger brother. Things continued like that for years. My father grew weaker, the alcohol slowly killing him while I grew stronger. My uncle always swore he would turn things over to me when the time came, but I was in no hurry to take control. I was focused on my training and my brother. Then, one winter, my father fell from the battlements in a drunken stupor. He broke his back, but that was not what killed him. He froze to death.”
Ravyn’s face was contorted with distress. “That is horrible. I am sorry.”
Carac shrugged, the pain of his father’s passing long gone. “Things happen. I learned a lot watching my da succumb to his grief. There were days he was sober and spent time with my brother and me. I prefer to remember him like that than the man who so loved his dead wife that nothing else mattered. Not even his sons.”
“You have good memories of him. That is what counts.”
“Aye.” Carac drew in a breath. “It was both a blessing and a curse when my father died. His pain was over, but mine had only just begun.”
Ravyn cocked her head to the side. “How so?”
“My uncle had become used to my brother and me being on the training field. Although I left the day-to-day running of the lands to my uncle, I was well aware of what was going on through the years. I knew the people he cheated, the money he stole, but I said nothing.”
“Why not? What he did was wrong.”
Carac rubbed the back of his neck. “I made reparations behind his back to those he cheated. As for the stealing, it was a pittance. By running the castle, I was allowed to do what I wanted. I thought it was the better bargain. Turns out, I was wrong.
“The thefts grew larger until I had no choice but to confront him. My uncle promised it would stop, and I forgave him. I took over most of the duties then, but I allowed him to remain with the agreement that he would do nothing to compromise the family or the castle and its people.”
“Did he do as promised?” Ravyn asked.
Carac swallowed as he shook his head. “My uncle became friendly with a neighboring lord who wanted to align our families. He had a marriageable daughter, and there was my brother and I to choose from. I refused since I had no wish for a wife at the time. My brother was still young and enjoying his freedom. Both of our parents were gone, so I did not want to force him into something he did not want.”
Ravyn nodded in agreement. “I would not have either.”
“Apparently, the lord offered my uncle a chest of gold if he could get one of us to marry his daughter. While I was dealing with matters at the castle, my uncle took my brother hunting. At least, that is what I was told. In truth, he took my brother to the lord. My brother fought to get free from my uncle, and in the ensuing struggle, my brother was killed.”
Ravyn’s lips parted, her eyes filled with remorse. “Oh, Carac.”
“To say I was filled with rage is an understatement. I banished my uncle from the castle before I killed him with my bare hands. After I buried my brother, I hired a steward to run the castle and fully devoted myself to my training. The day I got my spurs, I had no one but Simon to
celebrate with. I could not return to the castle and continue on with marriage and children and such. So, I hired myself out to lords. Simon was always with me, and we quickly developed a reputation. Soon, other knights joined up with us after each victory on the battlefield. Before I knew it, I had an army at my disposal.”
Ravyn blinked, her dark eyes watching him closely. “Do you intend to remain in this life forever? To one day die on the battlefield? Or will you return to your home and take up the mantle you were born to?”
It was a question he had been asking himself for some months now. There had been no reason for him to go back to the castle alone. At least, there hadn’t been. Yet he could see himself on the battlements with Ravyn by his side.
“My duty is to my family. I know it is what both my father and brother would want,” he answered.
She lifted her brows. “What stops you?”
“I have seen much of England and even Scotland. I have traveled to France, Aragon, Italy, and the Holy Roman Empire. The things I have seen and experienced have been amazing, despite the fact that I was taking the lives of others in the process.”
A smile curved her lips. “I want to hear about every place you have seen.”
“I will share the stories willingly.”
Her head leaned back on the stones. “I cannot imagine seeing all of those places. No wonder you hesitate to go home.”
“It is more than that. If I return unmarried, then every father, brother, and uncle around with a marriage-aged woman will be after me. I prefer to make my own decisions.”
She laughed softly and shook her head. “Oh, poor you, having women paraded before you to choose from.”
He grinned as he looked briefly at the floor. “You make it sound as though it could be enjoyable. But I would rather find the woman I want as my wife another way.”
“Really? How so?” she asked with a grin.
“Being put in tough situations so I can see what she is made of is a good start. Sharing a cold night together with only the heat of our bodies is even better.”
Her eyes blazed with passion, a look he was coming to know well. “That does sound reasonable. I believe the woman would be able to get a sense of what you are made of, as well. She would need to know that you could command in the bedchamber as well as, or better even than, on the battlefield.”
Carac’s balls tightened, need coiling through him. “Oh?”
“A woman wants to be pleasured, just as a man does. If you see to her needs, then she will be sure to see to yours.”
By the stars, he was on fire for her!
Ravyn’s eyes turned seductive as she tilted her head to the side. “Would you want a meek woman? One who turned to you for everything?”
“I thought that was what I wanted, but I have come to see that a woman with a warrior spirit is more to my liking. A lady who would stand beside me in all things.”
“All things?” she asked, brow raised.
He gave a single nod of his head. “All.”
“What about your wandering spirit? Would you grow tired of remaining in one place?”
That was a concern, but it was becoming less of one. “I have seen enough of the world. It is time I return to my holdings. What about the woman with her incredible warrior spirit? Would she be content?”
“There will always be a villain in one form or another to fight. As long as she can do that, she would be happy.”
Carac wasn’t sure, but they could have just agreed to spend the rest of their lives together. And it pleased him immensely. Neither had come out and said that the woman was she, and he would want to have such a conversation. He needed to have it because he wanted her to know that he was falling for her.
In rapid fashion.
It was odd, this feeling growing inside him. He was enamored with her because she was so different from other women he had encountered. Her beauty made his heart catch, but it was her spirit that stole his breath.
She was perfect for him. In every way. He hadn’t even known she was what he had been looking for until she came into his life, but now that she was there, he wasn’t going to let her go.
Silence stretched as their previous conversation hung between them. Ravyn’s lips parted as if she were about to speak, but their heads jerked toward the door at the sound of Sybbyl’s voice.
They got to their feet and moved closer in order to make out what the witch was saying, but it helped little. Though they could hear Sybbyl’s distinctive voice, they couldn’t make out the words.
Then the witch walked away. Ravyn began to pace the chamber. He didn’t need to ask what she was thinking. Ravyn wanted a piece of Sybbyl—whether she was the witch who killed Ravyn’s family or not. It mattered little.
Sybbyl was of the Coven.
And they all needed to be stopped.
Carac stepped in front of Ravyn and put his hands on her to halt her. “We will get her.”
“Not stuck in here,” Ravyn snapped. “We have to find the staff. For all we know, the other witches are here. Or worse, they’ve already found the relic.”
He held her gaze and gave her arms a squeeze. “Then we leave.”
“How?” she bit out, a frown upon her brow.
Carac grinned and dropped his arms to his sides. “We get past the guards.”
“Aye. Without alerting Sybbyl or John.”
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
She drew in a deep breath and slowly released it. “I do.”
He motioned her against the wall while he moved to stand behind the door. Then he slammed the bottom of his foot against it.
The guards’ voices halted. A moment later, footsteps approached. Ravyn smiled as she swung her crossbow from her shoulder. As soon as the door opened, she fired the weapon, the arrow puncturing the man’s heart.
Carac waited until both guards were inside the chamber before he pushed the door closed and kicked the second guard in the back of the knee. The man went down. Carac then stabbed him through the ribs with two quick jabs.
With both guards dead, he went to the door and peeked out to find the corridor empty. He turned and met Ravyn’s gaze. They shared a smile before hurrying out to find Bryce.
Chapter 20
The excitement and hope that surged after having gotten out of the chamber evaporated like smoke. Ravyn stared at the empty cell where Randall had been. She had come so close to getting him to reveal the location of the staff the previous night, but he had been stubborn. Then he grew obstinate and refused to speak at all.
Ravyn had had no choice but to give him some time and try again. Yet, apparently, that decision had been the wrong one. Now, he was gone, and she couldn’t get the location of the staff, which meant that the Coven would beat her to the artifact.
“I failed,” she said.
Carac shook his head. “This is merely a setback. We can still win.”
Her head swung to him. “You say that because you have not fought the Coven.”
“And you keep telling me that. I understand that the witches cannot be killed with anything but your and Margery’s weapons, but I know battle. Simon knows war. We are four against them.”
She nodded, realizing that he was right. “I am happy to have you fighting beside me, but you have yet to see what they can do. Each has different magic. They can strike at you from several feet away.”
“Then we use that against them.”
Ravyn rubbed her temple where her head was beginning to throb. Normally, she was good at coming up with a new plan when something went awry, but whether it was Carac or Sybbyl or the fact that it was the staff they were after, she couldn’t seem to clear her head.
She blew out a long breath. “How?”
“First, we find them. I suspect they are digging somewhere in the castle. If I had to guess, I would say below the dungeon.”
Carac could be onto something. She nodded, liking things so far. “Sybbyl will be on the lookout for Margery and me, which means she will h
ave a lot of guards.”
“We should be able to find them easily enough. Then, we sit back and wait for them to locate the staff.”
At this, Ravyn shook her head. “The Coven cannot get their hands on it.”
“The odds of us preventing that at this point are moot. You need another plan, one that gives us the advantage.”
“How, if Sybbyl has the staff?”
Carac put his hand on the hilt of his sword. “You are looking at this as either getting the relic or not. You need to assume that the staff will land in their hands, as inconceivable as that is.”
It was unthinkable, but he had a point. If she stopped thinking about getting to the staff first, then that opened up several possibilities to take it from the Coven. Not that it would be easy.
“You realize that you will be going up against several witches?”
Carac shot her a lopsided grin. “Of course.”
She wouldn’t list all the ways she had seen witches kill, but it would be better if Carac were prepared for what might happen. Instead, he was going on what Simon had told him and the little she had shared.
“I know the risks,” Carac told her, as if reading her thoughts.
“Not really. Witches strike quickly and from seemingly nowhere.”
“Then we need a place that works to our advantage,” he replied.
She threw up her hands. “And where might that be?”
“Right here.”
Ravyn gawked at him. “In the dungeon?”
“The castle,” he corrected.