by Unknown
Before Gwen could protest, Cain clenched his jaw and rose, running his hands through his hair. The lass was inconceivable! He was warning her. He wasn’t worth saving. Soon, he'd be dealing with his afterlife. One in which he wasn’t so sure he’d be able to survive for an eternity.
Cain spun around, ready to speak his mind, but froze glimpsing her. Gwen stared at her wrist, a look of defeat across her face. Her hair hung in tangles around her. The fight inside her gone. Silently cursing, he squatted down in front of her.
“Gwen,” he said softly, “’tis over.” Just then a huge rumble of thunder sounded. Cain glanced up to the sky. Huge, dark grey clouds were rolling in. He gently put his hands on her shoulders helping her to stand. “We need to find shelter. A bad storm is coming.”
They rode silently into the woods off the road, as Cain ever so often, glanced down at Gwen sitting in his lap. She appeared numb to everything. She just continued staring down at her wrist. He knew what she was going through. The bitter taste in her mouth, the emptiness, the excitement and fear, the anticipation to cast another spell...the power. With himself, power had always made him come back for more, numbing him to the pain and consequences he should be feeling.
An outcrop of rocks appeared past the trees ahead and Cain caught sight of a mouth of a cave. He steered the horse over to the entrance and bent down toward Gwen. “Lass, we’ll sleep here for the night. Stay on the horse while I make sure ‘tis safe.” As the mount came to a stop, Cain jumped down, leaving Gwen atop. He quickly disappeared inside the cave, returning moments later. “'Tis a bit dirty, but all the wee beasties are gone.”
For the first time since they left the spot where Gwen had cast magic, she spoke. “It will be fine,” she said despondently.
Cain’s brow furrowed. She was taking the whole thing entirely too hard. Maybe, it had been easier for him because he had been immortal and the inherited evil from his mother already tainted him. There had been no hope for him from the beginning with Rowena as a mother.
He held out his arms as Gwen slipped into them, sliding off the horse. Her gaze avoided his. He could tell she purposely kept her gaze downcast. Something was wrong. As she went to walk past him, he reached out, stopping her. Gently placing his thumb and forefinger onto her chin, he turned her face toward his. Her eyes were squeezed shut.
“Gwen, open your eyes,” he demanded. She shook her head fiercely side to side. “Gwen,” he warned.
Tears streamed out of her closed eyes. Slowly, she opened them gazing up at him. Barely audible, she choked out, “They're black, aren't they?”
* * * * *
CHAPTER EIGHT
Cain dropped his hand away from her face. “That’s what this is aboot? You’re afraid you’ll have eyes like mine? Is that it? Become an abomination?” He turned his back to her as a wave of anger swam through him. She had been quiet and distant because she had thought she’d be like him, a monster. “It takes many, many spells to be as evil as me,” he bit off over his shoulder.
Reeling back as though she had been slapped, she watched Cain stride into the cave. She hadn’t meant any insult. Terror had consumed her at the thought that she would be evil…like the beast he constantly transforms into. Closing her eyes, Gwen cursed herself. Rain began to pour down as she reached the entrance of their shelter for the night, the horse following behind.
After a moment, her eyes adjusted to the darkness inside and she discovered Cain rubbing two sticks together in the center of kindling. A spark flew into the small twigs and dry grass, then another, and another, and within seconds, an orange glow flared up. Cain knelt down close to the delicate flame. Blowing softly, the fire grew.
He glared up at her. “Surprised I can do something without using magic?” He knew he should stop, but he couldn’t help himself. Never before had he wanted a woman to see him, not the magic, not the black eyes, not the evil who shared his soul, but just him. And it made him furious. Why should he care if Gwen couldn't see the "real" man underneath? Why did his gut twist, when she had thought she'd turn out just like him?
Cain laughed bitterly to himself. Had anyone ever really known the real "Cain"? Had the faceless woman from the past known what dreams he aspired to fill? Cain gritted his teeth. Hell, he didn’t even know who he really was. His mother, and now the darkness had taken away so much of his life.
Gwen held her gaze when Cain glanced up. She recognized the look in his eyes. Pain. Her heart twisted. How could she condemn him when she didn’t know the first thing about his life after she had "disappeared"? Even back at castle Knightly, ten years ago, he had kept his past to himself, never letting her get an inside glimpse of the man he really was. A small part of her understood, wanted to hold him, tell him she loved him regardless. A small part of her wanted to feel the warmth of his touch. Evil may reside inside him, but his kisses were anything but. His caress had been soft and tender, filled with something she had longed for every day since leaving him…his love.
Before the black magic, he had been an Immortal hardened from war, but he still had ethics and morals. But now, she could see he sorely lacked. He needed a companion, someone to be there for when the darkness consumed him. Gwen studied him as he removed his satchel, setting the bag off to the side. Without a glance her way, he laid down on the dirty, leaf covered ground.
As the minutes ticked by, the pitter-patter of the rain echoed louder and louder through Gwen's head. Crouching toward the heat of the fire, she warmed herself from the damp air blowing into the cave. Her gaze strayed over to Cain's still form. He pretended to sleep. She knew that was exactly what he was doing.
“I’m sorry," she said, breaking the silence. "I didn’t mean to insult you.”
Cain lay motionless, his eyes still shut. “Lass," he finally said, "when one’s eyes are closed, it usually means that person is sleeping.”
“I wanted to apologize,” she said softly.
Cain opened one eye, turning his head to glance over his shoulder. Gwen sat with one arm wrapped around her legs, while the other hand prodded at the fire. A scowl filled her pretty face. Sighing, he sat up. He wanted to say many things to her, yet nothing sounded right. Instead, he joined her in poking the glowing coals and hot flames.
“Were those the same men that broke into my home?” she suddenly asked, breaking the awkward silence.
“Nay,” Cain said, continuing to stare into the flickering blaze.
Gwen let out a long breath. “You knew the one...named Marsel. How?"
Cain glared up at her, but quickly returned his gaze to the fire. Gwen rolled her eyes after a time, realizing he wasn’t going to answer. As she began bunching her tartan up into a pillow, he quietly said, "I did a job with him once."
Gwen stilled, the tartan lay in a ball on her lap. "Like the one he and Blackwin did to us?"
Cain's lips thinned. "We were warriors for hire...and the task much worse."
Gwen made a silent "Oh" with her mouth. "W-what did you do?"
Cain eyed her a moment before continuing. "Me being Immortal, I figured this was the best gig, in-between missions for my mother and the other Guardians. Besides," he said with a shrug, "I wasn't a knight, nor a laird. I had no land, no monies...I was a beggar." He glanced up with a mean smile. "Being Immortal doesna exactly earn ye money.
So, there I was, penniless, fighting stupid humans who thought they could beat me in a match of swords for money when I ran into another mon down on his luck." A small smile curved his mouth. "The daft bastard fought me. He was the only one to flip me on my back. We were friends ever since."
"Marsel?" Gwen asked, scrunching her nose.
"Nay. The mon's name was Ulrick."
Gwen's breath caught. Cain remembered Ulrick. It would only be a matter of time before he remembered her. Gwen put on a fake smile and focused in on Cain and his story.
"-we did everything together," he was saying. "I had his back, and he had mine. We were a force to be reckoned with. Then, one day, Ulrick caught wi
nd of a job…warriors for hire. Marsel was one of the men in the small raiding party. We were told to pillage and rape a small village on the outskirts of Lairg. Marsel and his men told us the town was full of thieves and whores. The village folk had stolen from Marsel's master." Cain looked up, remorse dragging down his features. "They were ordinary men...women...children."
A sick feeling rose in Gwen. "Did you kill them?" she asked quietly.
Cain stared into the fire as he spoke. "Two dozen, perhaps, before I realized what I was doing. Ye have to understand we rode in hard and fast, taking down anyone in our way. Ulrick and I pulled back. Marsel and the others were in a trance, berserkers gone truly mad. Marsel soon realized we weren't fighting and he came over to us, blood dripping from his longsword."
"What did you do?"
"I told him we wanted our share and that we were leaving. Marsel told us to bugger off, that his master would hear about it that night."
"So, you spoke to his master?"
"Nay." Cain glanced up grinning. "I threw Marsel from his horse and Ulrick took his purse. We killed the others in the party and left Marsel alive to give his master a message. I told Marsel to tell his master that my name was Cain and if it was the last thing I ever did, it was to take the bastard's life. I never heard or saw Marsel again, until now." His expression turned grim. "I still wish I would have found out who was behind that order to kill everyone in the village."
"Could it be the same man Marsel was trying to collect the ransom from?"
Cain shrugged. "Possibly." He eyed Gwen. "The one thing with Marsel, he's ne'er loyal. Who kens if he even went back to his master all those years ago."
Gwen glanced down at her hands, which played with the frayed corners of the tartan. What kind of life had he lived through before he had stumbled upon her and Julianna back at Castle Knightly? Not a pleasant one from the sounds of it. Gwen chewed on her lip, before asking her next question. "What ever happened to your friend, to Ulrick?"
Cain grew still. He swallowed. "We had a falling out."
"I'm sorry-"
"-dinna be sorry. It was for the best. Turned out he wanted things that weren't his."
"Things?"
Cain glared up at her. "A lass. She belonged to me. We all lived in the same keep. He became friends with her, but I knew he wanted me out of the picture and the lass all to himself."
Gwen's heart sunk. She wanted to confess everything to Cain and be damned the consequences. Ulrick had never wanted to be her lover. He had always treated her like a friend, a sister. Somehow, Cain had thought wrong.
"I got him good, though, the last time I saw him."
Gwen's gaze darted up to Cain's. "What did you do?" she asked quickly.
Cain grinned. "I placed a hex upon him. He can ne'er enjoy a lass' touch until the spell is broken. He feels nothing, no gratification, happiness…nothing from a lass' touch."
"That's horrible!" Gwen said appalled.
Cain shrugged. "When he finally learns that my things are mine, then I'll remove the hex. But I haven't seen him for years. Who knows and cares what happened to him." Cain began poking into the fire.
Gwen watched him. Even after all the tough talk, a look of pain and regret crossed Cain's face. Gwen lightly shook her head and knew his anger was a facade. She knew he still cared for Ulrick. They had been best friends. But she also knew how stubborn Cain had always been, and that he would never admit that he had hurt his friend and he had done something wrong. "So, only you can break the hex?"
Cain glanced up. "Nay," he said nonchalantly, poking the fire, "the lass that used to be mine can break it…if only she was still alive."
Gwen cleared her throat. "What would she have to do?"
"Simply tell Ulrick to his face that she 'releases him'." Cain smiled. It didn't reach his eyes. "Then, all would return to normal and Ulrick could tup whoever the bloody hell he wanted to with a big ol' grin on his face," he sneered.
Gwen sighed. She knew Cain regretted what he did. She could right the situation, tell him everything. Who she was, that Ulrick was nothing but a friend…. "Cain, I need to tell you something." Cain glanced up questioningly. Gwen took a deep breath. "I'm-"
A large crack of lightning sounded, and Gwen's gaze flew to the opening of the cave where the hooded figure from earlier, stood. Gwen jerked back as the fire blew out from a strong gust of wind. Oh God! Rowena had found them! Now, they'd both be dead and she didn't even get a chance to tell Cain the truth. The cavern returned to a black maw, except for the continuous flickering of lightening at the mouth of the cave. A loud whinny sounded and Gwen saw the silhouette of their horse dash out into the woods.
Strong hands grasped her shoulders. Gwen screamed. "Shh," Cain cooed, "'tis me."
Gwen nodded repeatedly, assuring herself she was held safely in Cain's arms and not his ghastly mother's.
"'Tis a wee storm. 'Twill pass." Cain let go and Gwen heard him curse as he rubbed sticks together over the remains from the fire. Soon, flickers of light lit the dark cave walls once more and a small fire erupted a second time. "Better?" Cain asked.
Gwen's gaze darted to the empty entrance. Had she really seen the cloaked figure?
"Gwen?"
"I-I thought…I'm fine," Gwen said, feeling anything but. She knew that if she told Cain about what she thought she saw, he'd run out into the night searching for her specter. She didn't want him getting hurt over her hallucinations.
"Now," Cain said, leaning his arms over his knees," what did ye want to tell me?"
Gwen blinked a few times as her eyesight suddenly became blurry. "Um...." Gwen rubbed her hand over her face as her movements grew delayed, almost dreamlike. Her breathing turned shallow. Gwen swallowed and nestled down, snuggling with her tartan, forgetting all conversation.
She felt Cain's light touch on her arm. "Gwen?" he asked, concern written all over his face.
"I'm tired," she said, brushing off his hand. "I just...need to...sleep."
Cain's brow furrowed. Sleep had sure come fast for her. He reached over and felt her forehead. Cool to the touch. Cain sat back on his heels. Perhaps, the lass really was only in need of sleep. Cain leaned back against the cavern wall, pulling out his amber stone. As he ritually rubbed the amber between his thumb and forefinger, he silently watched over Gwen as she softly slept.
* * * * *
Gwen was in Julianna's home from the thirteenth century, Castle Knightly, in front of an oversized fireplace in the great hall. Was no one else feeling so hot? The hot summer sun glared in from the windows, adding to the warmth that filled the large stone and timber room. Serfs, servants, and friends stuffed the great hall to bursting.
Gwen glanced around. Everyone laughed and mingled, dancing to the music. She made an attempt at a smile, but by God, the sweltering heat!
"Gwen!"
She spun around at the sound of her name. On tiptoes, she stood so she could see over the crowd, and caught a glimpse of Cain, yelling for her across the packed room. She attempted to make her way to him, but got shoved, spun around, and pushed back, keeping her from gaining any ground.
"Gwen!"
His voice grew louder. She jumped up, bobbing her head over the mob of guests. He pushed his way forward, a table length away now. Gwen wiped the sweat from her forehead, stumbling to the side. A strong hand caught her. She looked up at her champion…Cain.
"Gwen!" Cain yelled, "look at me!" Cain shook her shoulders as her body lay limp in his hold. Bloody hell! She was burning up, yet parts of her still remained cool.
She finally opened her eyes half-way and smiled up at him. Reaching out, she ran her fingers down the side of his face, before her hand dropped to her lap. "I'm sorry. She made me leave you," she slurred, before closing her eyes and succumbing to sleep.
Cain's brow furrowed. What on earth was she talking about? "Gwen," he said once more, patting her on her clammy cheek. "Bloody hell," he gritted out after no response.
He wanted to cast a spell to make
her heal, but from what? Her strange illness had come upon her so abruptly. He would have thought she had the plague, but something seemed "off". If he wasn't mistaken, the smell of cheap magic hovered on her breath. But what spell? What magic? He couldn't cast the antidote if he didn't know what spell had been used.
First things first, he had to find an inn of some sorts, a better place to stay than the rank, damp cave. Who knew how long her ailment would last. Perhaps, she would be fine if he let the magic run its course.
Cain threw some dirt on the hot coals, then grabbed his satchel, and hoisted Gwen up in his arms, wrapping the tartan around her.
Upon exiting the cave, Cain cursed. The horse had run off in the storm. He trudged over the sodden ground until he came to the road. It was early morning and Cain hoped that they would come across someone with a horse. He didn't care if they wanted to help or not…he'd make them.
After an hour of walking back toward the village of Kilmarnock, Cain narrowed his eyes down the road. Sure enough, a coach led with a team of four horses raced toward them. Cain stepped out into the center of the dirt road. Small hills lined both sides of the road. The coach would either stop...or go through them.
Cain swallowed. The stagecoach grew closer, but wasn't slowing down. He squeezed his hold on Gwen as he squeezed his eyes shut. A horrible thundering, followed by a high pitched whinnying sounded directly in front of him. When all was quiet, Cain opened his eyes. The two lead horses were less than three feet away from him.
"Ye daft arse!" the coachman yelled, stepping down and drawing out a dagger. "Go on! Get!" the portly man yelled, jabbing out with his knife. "Me Lord has important business to attend to."
"Tell your Lord," Cain gritted out, "that a lass needs assistance. Either ye willingly help me...or ye both will be left for dead."
The coachman sputtered. "A-are you daft! Do ye ken who's inside! 'Tis Lord Langstrum. No one tells 'im what to do."