The Celtic Witch and the Sorcerer [Celtic Series Book 2]

by Lyn Armstrong

  "I wonder how he is fairing on his last day on earth."

  Out of a chest, she pulled a metallic scrying bowl adorned with emerald stones and Celtic symbols. She poured the rest of last eve's red wine from a goblet into the bowl. It was not much liquid, but it would do. The tart aroma wafted around her while she waved her hand over the potion.

  "Show me what I want to see. Show me ... my son."

  The wine glistened on the surface, the ruby texture illuminating with light. A vision appeared of a falcon flying against the wind.

  "A bird..."

  She gasped.

  "Tremayne!"

  How did he escape?

  Alayne.

  Curse that blind whore! The wench would be dealt with later. For now, she would take care of Tremayne's untimely chivalry. Peering into the bowl, she said, “Lets see, my son, if you can fly without wings."

  Torella clicked her fingers and laughed.

  * * * *

  Tremayne was exhausted. He had flown most of the way with only a few breaks to rest. If he could only reach the glen near Gleich Castle, he would change into a stallion. Perhaps the extra muscles in his hind legs would give him more speed then these weak wings. He still had a lot of ground to cover before he could change to a land animal.

  A bolt of black lightening flew across the sky toward him. This was not going to be good. Thump! The lightening hit his light-weight body and knocked him backwards.

  Dear Gods!

  Swiftly, he lowered his beak and dived for the ground, using his wings to balance the air. He had to land before he completely transformed into human. The black energy followed his descent, pulling and tugging at his limbs.

  Nae, not yet!

  His wings extended slowly into arms, his body filling out into torso and legs. His male body had completely transformed and he fell through the air with no resistance.

  The tree tops moved faster toward him. Too fast.

  The impact of his fall broke the branches of an old oak tree; his face and body were mercilessly scratched and battered, descending from one branch to another until he landed on his back with a thud on the ground.

  He spat a leaf out of his mouth. “Bitch!"

  Pain coursed through his battered limbs, sweat stinging the open cuts upon his naked skin. He groaned, feeling like every bone in his body was broken.

  His hand felt around his bare chest and neck. The vial! It was gone. The string must have broken on his fall down. Frantically, he scanned the area and found the bottle sticking out from beneath brown leaves.

  Gingerly, he reached over and studied the container. At least it was not broken. With a lot of moans and cursing, he pushed himself upwards. Lifting his hand, he waved it over his naked body to heal the injuries.

  Nothing.

  He did it again.

  No change.

  She had completely stolen his powers.

  "You could have at least left me with garments,” he shouted to the sky.

  With the sheer force of will, he struggled to get up. His twisted left ankle screamed with pain when he placed pressure upon his bare feet. He sighed with exhaustion and began to limp.

  He had two leagues.

  Two whole leagues to Gleich Castle.

  He clutched his abdomen again. The spasms were coming closer in time. Gavenia's fear and anxiety was rising. He fell to his knees again. Damn these child bearing pains!

  Must rise ... and ... keep going. He had to reach Gavenia. No curse, pain or sorceress would stop him. Nothing would stop him.

  Well ... almost nothing.

  He looked up to find the tip of a sword pointing at his face.

  Tremayne taunted, “Laird Callum, you look tired."

  * * * *

  "'Twill not be long now,” Gavenia's mother soothed, dabbing a cool cloth across her brow.

  Gavenia's skin was hot and sticky from sweat; her muscles ached, draining her energy. Her mother talked of the baby coming, but Adela's words were more cryptic to Gavenia.

  'Twill not be long before she died.

  Memories of the death vision haunted her every day of her life. And now it would become her reality. She did wonder who the stranger was at the end of her vision—the mysterious man who burst into her chamber after she died. His face was never clear to her. She guessed she would never know.

  "Mother?"

  "Aye."

  "Do you think I will see my sorcerer when I die?"

  Adela glanced away, but not before Gavenia recognized the hatred burning in her eyes.

  "Mother, please do not think badly of him."

  "I ... I canna,” Adela said and faced her, her eyes glistening. “Because of him, you were imprisoned and yer father was taken."

  "Nae, he did not take Father."

  "Aye, but we would not have been at his castle if not for..."

  "I, too, share the blame.” Gavenia's chest tightened.

  "Nae! ‘Twas not yer fault.” Adela threw her arms around Gavenia.

  Her abdomen tightened, the pain was coming. Gritting her teeth, she said, “Let us forgive ... the ... past."

  She screamed.

  Her mother grasped her hand, and Gavenia squeezed it.

  The door opened and Vika hastened to her side with a trencher. “I pray for yer forgiveness. I did not want to take so long, but the serving maid..."

  "Never mind,” Adela admonished. “Just fill the chalice. Her mouth is dry."

  "As you wish,” Vika replied and handed a chalice to Adela.

  "Take a sip, my darling. It will make you feel better."

  Gavenia lifted her head and swilled the sweet mead, the honey-wine tingled her throat when she swallowed.

  Her eyesight blurred a little, and she rested her head back on the pillows. “Mother, Vika. I want you both to take care of the babe. Help my child to remember its parents."

  Adela's soft sobs were muffled by the hand over her mouth. Gavenia appreciated her mother's attempt at remaining strong.

  "I will treat yer babe like it was my very own.” Vika sat next to the bed, a reassuring smile across her face. “Here,” she picked up the chalice, “take another sip."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Seventeen

  "Tell me where my father is, and I will grant you a hasty death,” Callum said, his eyes glowing with vengeance.

  Tremayne gritted his teeth and rose to his full height, hands clenched at his sides.

  A grizzly soldier shouted, “His death should be slow and painful. Make him pay for yer father's capture."

  A round of “ayes” came from several of the men who accompanied the young Roberts chieftain.

  "I do not know where he is,” Tremayne growled. He did not have time to converse. “Step aside, Roberts. I need a horse."

  The soldiers laughed, and Callum smirked, “You are in naught position to be commanding."

  Tremayne sighed. “By my troth, I did not know yer father was missing. I will help you find him later, but right now yer sister is in danger, she needs this potion."

  "Think ye, I would let you poison my sister?"

  "'Tis not a poison, and if you do not let me pass, I will break yer neck.” Tremayne ignored the fact he was naked without weapons or powers, but he still had his hands and deadly determination.

  The forest stillness was sliced with the roar of laughter.

  Callum did not laugh, his eyes remained cold. “Lady Gavenia told me you saved her life and sacrificed yer own. Is that true?"

  "I know it is hard for you to believe, but I love her,” the unfamiliar words glided over his tongue. No words ever felt so right and true in the saying. “Please, we have wasted much time."

  "Seamus,” Callum called over his shoulder.

  "Aye?” The youngest soldier straightened in the saddle.

  "Give the Campbell yer mount."

  Callum lowered his sword and his men grumbled, but silenced when their chieftain turn to glared at them. Undoing the blue cloak around his shoulders, C
allum threw the warm garment at Tremayne.

  "Cover yourself."

  Tremayne nodded and limped over to the free horse. He suppressed the groan his body demanded when pulling himself into the saddle. He did not want these men to know how vulnerable he was in strength.

  Callum sidled his steed close to Tremayne's horse. “If yer words prove false, I will cut off yer member and feed it to yer pack of wolves."

  Tremayne nodded. “Agreed.” He gathered the reins in his hand and looked at the horizon. The sun was setting in a ray of brilliant orange and red. This would be the last time he saw the sun.

  He turned to Callum. “Try to keep up,” he said, then sank his heels into the horse's flanks.

  They rode through the eve to reach Gleich Castle. Less than a league away, Tremayne felt dizzy. His eyesight blurred while his stomach wanted to heave, but could not. Gavenia had been poisoned by his mother. The dire effects ravaged his system as it would through Gavenia. He cursed the horse for not going faster. Even if he had a fresh horse, he knew he would be too late to save her.

  The mighty draw-gate from the castle appeared through the mist. Gleich Castle sat on the edge of a mountain, its stone walls surrounded the village and keep within.

  Callum called to the gate keeper and the wooden gate slowly lowered.

  "Come on, come on,” Tremayne uttered. Even in its exhausted state, his mount side stepped nervously, no doubt feeling Tremayne's impatience.

  Before the gate was flush on the ground, he turned his horse around and then galloped at the gate, urging his horse to leap into the air. They landed on the wooden plank and skidded down the rest of the way.

  He galloped along the empty roads, the horse's hoofs echoing through the sleepy village. Callum and his men had just passed over the gate. He could not wait for them.

  Once at the castle, he threw himself off the horse and raced into the Great Hall. A tired sentry rubbed his eyes, disbelief on his face.

  The guard went to stop him, but Tremayne punched him in the face, knocking him unconscious. He had no time to explain his presence. Pulling the cloak hood over his head, he undid the soldier's scabbard and wrapped it around his waist. He did not know where his mother was, but he wanted to be prepared.

  The sleeping servants remained oblivious to him as he leaped over their bodies and ran up the stairs, two at a time. Gavenia's life-force was weak, but he could feel her fading energy on the second landing.

  From down the hall, he heard someone crying from within a chamber, “I am so sorry, I am so sorry."

  Tremayne's heart broke with the wretched sobs. Please, let her not be dead. He shoved the door open and charged into the chamber.

  Drawing his sword, his gaze went Gavenia. Her beautiful face lay peaceful, her arms crossed over her chest.

  Nae! He was too late.

  "She is dead,” he accused and looked beyond Gavenia's mother to the lady standing in the corner, “and you killed her!"

  Tremayne went to walk around the bed when Gavenia's mother blocked his path. “Who are you?"

  Torella, in another lady's form, picked up the babe from the crib and held it against her chest.

  Tremayne pushed Gavenia's mother to the side and held his sword at the Torella's neck. “Give me the babe and I will spare yer life."

  She smiled at him with self assurance. In a choked voice she cried, “Lady Adela, help me!"

  "You know, Mother, if I kill you in another human's form, you will die for good."

  Torella's eyes glowed red. Her mouth dropped into a frown. She whispered, “You will pay for betraying me."

  A voice from behind started to chant. Dear Gods, Adela was cursing him. He must not take his gaze from Torella. “Give me the babe, now or die. I have nothing to lose!"

  She handed over the baby. “One day, I will come for the child. And you will not be here to protect her.” She disappeared into the wall.

  His baby cooed in Tremayne's arms and he smiled down at the bundle. Suddenly, his chest began to ache, his heart slowed in beating. The sword dropped from his hand and he fell to his knees. Adela was killing him.

  Adela grabbed the baby from his arms. “What did you do to Lady Vika?"

  He clutched his chest, his heart being squeezed.

  "That was my mother, not ... not ... Lady ... Vi..."

  "Mother!” Callum rushed into the room. “Release him."

  "Why?"

  "This is Laird Tremayne, he is here to save Gavenia.” Callum rushed to his side.

  Adela muttered a few words and his heart began to beat a normal rhythm.

  "I do not understand any of this,” Adela cried. “Callum, yer sister..."

  Gavenia's brother kneeled at his sister's bedside. His head buried in Gavenia's hair.

  "Wait,” Tremayne breathed and struggled to his feet. “This might still work.” He uncorked the vial and poured the contents through Gavenia's lips.

  "Milady, Callum, I need you to hold hands and join a circle with Gavenia. Yer Celtic powers might be enough to save her."

  "But she is dead,” Callum roared.

  "Only her body, her spirit is nearby. I can feel her.” He looked at Gavenia's mother. “Trust me."

  She nodded. Laying the babe on the pallet, she grabbed Callum's and Gavenia's hand. “What do we need to do?"

  "Concentrate on yer love for her.” After taking Callum's hand he then grasped Gavenia's chilled hand. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “Spirit of the underworld ... ‘tis not her time ... send her back to her body ... this witch is mine."

  Again and again, he chanted. But no movement came from the bed. A wave of apprehension swept through him. Damn his powers for not being with him.

  "Tremayne?” Adela whispered his name.

  He tilted his head up.

  Tears marked Adela's cheeks. Her tone was resigned with sorrow, “My daughter loved you. I think she wanted you to know that."

  Gavenia loved him? Nobody had ever loved him before.

  He tightened his grip on the hands he held. Rising his voice, he chanted, “Spirit of the underworld ... ‘tis not her time ... send her back to her body ... this witch is mine!"

  A cold breeze whooshed around the chamber, the candle scones flickered, half of them extinguished. The baby began to cry, and an eerie wail filled the room.

  Tremayne held his eyes shut, unwilling to look down. He prayed that he did not fail her.

  His hand was squeezed slightly, and he jumped at the touch. Glancing down, he witnessed the most beautiful thing on the earth—the deep blue of Gavenia's eyes.

  Adela screamed for joy and Callum lifted his mother and swung her around.

  Tremayne dropped to the side of the bed and gathered her into his arms. Thank you, thank you, thank you...

  She smiled and it was the most perfect smile he had ever seen. Gavenia reached up and cupped his face with both hands. “Am I dead?"

  Laughter bubbled up from his chest. “Nae, my love. You are alive."

  Her gaze went from her brother standing at the end of the bed to her mother who sat down next to her. “Gavenia, you are well and alive."

  A high pitch cry rented the air and Gavenia gasped. Was that her baby? The sorcerer rose, walked away and returned with a bundle in his arms.

  "This is our baby,” he said, his voice soft.

  She opened her arms and awkwardly gathered the infant. The little face was scrunched up, the babe's gums and tongue exposed as it cried. Her heart was filled with wonder and love as she cuddled the baby against her chest. With the sound of her heart beat, the newborn settled into a light slumber.

  She looked up at her sorcerer garbed in a familiar blue cloak and a proud smile. Gavenia shook her head. “I canna believe you are here. I thought you were dead."

  He looked out the window and then back to her. “Well, I will be soon.” His tone was light, but Gavenia could see the under lying strain on his face.

  "Is this the day of yer twenty-fifth birth?"

  "Aye, a
nd I know not my father's name."

  Adela and Callum looked at each other, confused.

  Gavenia explained, “If he does not find the name to his father before the sun rises, he will be cast into hell to atone for his mother's wickedness."

  "That is awful!” Adela cried.

  "Is there anything we can do?” Callum asked.

  "Not unless you know the names of all the men Lady Torella slept with,” Gavenia said, watching her sorcerer walk to the window.

  "The sky brightens; soon the rays will break through.” He returned to the bedside and leaned over to kiss her.

  She could not lose him again. Not like this.

  "Wait!” Adela leaped from the bed. “I remember a friend of yer father's was in love with Lady Torella. Perhaps he could be ... Aye! The time fits. ‘Twas over twenty-five winters ago when they were together."

  "My mother had many lovers."

  "Aye, but ‘tis worth a try,” Adela reasoned.

  "Please, Tremayne, give the name a try,” Gavenia pleaded.

  Tremayne looked at the mother of his child, her pretty blue eyes full of sorrow. “That is the first time you have said my name.” He kissed her lightly on the lips and nodded. “I will start the ritual."

  The sword lay abandoned on the floor beneath the window and he picked it up. Outside, the sky turned pink. The sun was about to rise. He did not have much time left to complete the ritual. Hopefully, he would correctly remember the words from the ancient book of Dark Magick. One mislaid word, and the ritual would fail.

  Using the sharp edge of the sword, he sliced his hand. Blood dripped over the blade toward the tip. He faced east, and then ran the sword's tip along the stones in a circle.

  He turned to Adela. “What be my father's name?"

  She stepped close and whispered into his ear.

  Tremayne sighed and nodded. After so long searching, he finally knew his father's name.

  He trained his gaze on Gavenia. She had risen from the bed. Standing on the outside of the circle in a white linen chemise, she lovingly held their babe in her arms. She was so beautiful.

  He stepped into the circle. In a loud voice, he began the ritual, “Be this the day of my birth. I, Laird Tremayne Campbell offer my blood as a blessing to the Gods. I pray you redeem my sorcerer's heritage with my mortal father's ancestry. In the name of Master Dougal MacEwen, I seek redemption."