Storm Trilogy

by Ria Cantrell

  “What are you saying?”

  “I am saying Rhianna and I are no longer wed. Our gracious king has divorced me from my own wife! THAT is the reality.” Drew stared in shock at his friend.

  “That cannot be…”

  “Can’t it? I am already betrothed to that barbarian!” Fury was now replaced by deep anguish.

  “The only reason I am going before the king and not taking to the land as an outlaw is for the honor of my wife. I did not have the heart to tell her we are divorced. Drew, this is not going to bode well. I will not honor this decision this time. I cannot! I love Rhianna and I was married to her before God and Country. I cannot fail her now.”

  “I don’t know what to say…” Andrew watched Eric swallow hard, seemingly trying to get a hold of his emotions.

  “If only we hadn’t lost our child three months ago…” he said and Drew saw a single tear streak down the once hardened face of his friend. Erik brushed it away, embarrassed to show that weakness to his personal guard. He continued, “If only Rhianna was again pregnant, the king could not dispute our marriage. He would have to honor our marriage because Rhianna is of noble bearing and she would be ruined. The king would be held to honor our union”.

  Andrew clamped his mouth shut. He had no words of hope. He was horrified by the cruel game that nullified his best friends’ marriage. Finally after several long moments of silence, Erik said, “It’s my entire fault. I was too late…”

  Andrew said, “It is not your fault. You got there just in time.”

  “If only I…”

  “Erik, you saved her from Aaron’s clutches. She was not physically harmed to cause injury to the babe.”

  “But the distress and shock of having been kidnapped…and then to be tied to that stake, ready to be roasted as a heretic, that must have been enough to make her lose the baby. If only I had protected her…”

  Erik did not want to think of the damage caused when Aaron had decided to “burn the raven haired witch” at the stake. Erik had only been moments from being too late to save Rhianna and he was not sure that the fire and minor burns had not done more harm to both Rhianna and their unborn child.

  Rhianna had been taken by the enemy of Montefort Keep and held as bait to roust Randall and Erik. She was unharmed, but Erik blamed himself for the tragedy. Andrew did not know how to console his friend. He felt sick with disgust for the unnecessary pain inflicted on his two best friends. He bit back the bitter bile in his throat at what they were about to face. Andrew knew finally that their king had quite possibly gone mad to do such a cruel and senseless thing.

  Chapter Two

  Bronwyn MacCollum paced like a caged animal. She had been kept practically as a virtual prisoner since arriving in England. She railed against the thoughts and memories of the past few months. There had been trouble in her precious Highlands. Ah, hell, there was always trouble in the Highlands, what with the warring clans and the Lowlanders always trying to usurp the birthrights of the Highlanders. But in the last few months, there was once again strife between the borders and Treaties and Peaces that were honored in the past between England and Scotland were once again broken.

  Renegades from clans like the Campbells and MacIntyres had broken that trust by murdering some prominent English Lords. It was like an act of war and no mercy would be granted to her people, to be certain. Already there were battles that cost the lives of many men. While she was grateful that all her clansmen were spared, she knew all too well that it would only be a matter of time until the warring English would claim the lives of those men she loved so much. Bronwyn loved her brothers and her father more than life itself, so it was for that reason that she “agreed” to come to England and forge a peace through an arranged marriage to a powerful English knight. While she had agreed to this arrangement, she knew her brothers were working on a scheme to have her released. Bronwyn knew she could not let that happen. She would not have her brothers slaughtered by these savage beasts that seemed to only want to war with her people. Ach, men and their warring ways!

  Despite agreeing to this marriage, Bronwyn felt bitter gall at the actual thought of it. She was homesick for her lands and people. For all their supposed civility, Bronwyn found the English lot to be barbaric and cruel. It was not a surprise that she was treated with disdain at the hands of this English court. At the very best, she was tolerated with cold politeness, with a definite and underlying hatred by most of the people she met. She was as much an enemy to them as they were to her. She knew she could not expect any quarter from her future husband. While she had resigned herself to her fate, she was still painfully disgusted by the mere thought of wedding and bedding an Englishman. For a moment, she had a fleeting thought of a prophetic night on a mountain long ago, but that was a memory that easily slid into the recesses of her mind; shuttered away and quickly forgotten.

  As she paced in frustration, the walls of her quarters seemed to confine her all the more. She longed to feel the fresh cool air of her beloved Highlands on her face. What she would not give to smell the clean crisp scents of the pine forests that bordered MacCollum Keep. What she would not give to hug her father and brothers again. She even missed the wizened Morag who always tried to make her follow the Old Ways, when Bronwyn did not always acknowledge that part of her life. Her brothers were much more steeped in those ancient practices than she had ever allowed herself to be. If she were to succumb to those superstitious and outmoded beliefs, she would have to admit to that which she had denied so vehemently in the past. But as she paced, those thoughts came back to haunt her again. As much as she had tried to prevent her destiny and deny her ties to prophesy and visions, here she was in England…awaiting to be married to an Englishman.

  Most people did not speak at length with Bronwyn, but she overheard that he had arrived. Some of the women fawned over him, and some shuddered with fear when they described him. One thing she was certain of…Erik Ragnorsen was not the man who she had seen in her dreams. She sighed; perhaps she had tried so hard to force it from her mind that her actual memory of it had altered. They said he was tall, but blonde, like some sort of Norse god. Perhaps, she thought, she had forced destiny’s hand after all and in doing so changed it completely. Either way, she was not happy about this pending marriage. Not happy at all! To say she was terrified would have been more accurate, but she was a Highlander, after all. She had to be brave. Her brothers’ lives depended on it.

  Chapter Three

  Upon their arrival at the king’s winter residence, the Ragnorsen riding party was granted entry, but was denied audience for three days. During that time, Andrew observed Erik’s rage growing. He could feel it brewing like a mighty tempest, waiting to be unleashed at any moment. He was worried that his friend would be so angry, that by the time they were seen, Erik would get into a good bit of trouble that could land them both in the dungeon or worse.

  Andrew stood alongside of Erik trying to calm the restless energy coursing through him. He valued his friendship with Erik, and he admired the way Erik fought for what he believed in. He wished he had found something in his life to fight for; to keep him driven as Erik was. Drew sighed, thinking he may never find that passion. It was not that Andrew was not a fine knight. He was. He was honorable and kind and he had a fair share of ladies seeking his attention, but Erik seemed so much more driven. He was more hot headed, too, Andrew thought with worry. It was that temper that could cause both of them serious harm.

  When, at last, they were finally called before the king, Andrew watched Erik for a volatile reaction. After all, it was his job to guard his friend’s back and that meant keeping his friend’s temper manageable to save his friend’s neck. Erik bowed stiffly before the king. His fury was unmistakable, but so far, he held it in check. His body language told another tale. He never lowered his eyes before the king but met his gaze steadily. Drew knew that such arrogance would not go unnoticed by the king.

  “Rise, Sir. You displease your king so boldly.”
/>   Erik’s jaw and stomach clenched simultaneously. His Nordic sea blue eyes flashed and Andrew’s back stiffened.

  “I beg pardon for my boldness, but I must beg Your Majesty to retract the missive I received nullifying my marriage to Rhianna Du Montefort. We have been wed nearly five months and have lived as husband and wife publicly.”

  “Without a child, that is no concern of mine. What We have done, is done in the best interest of England.”

  “I humbly request that another man marry this girl. I am married, and I love Rhianna. I have no wish to marry this Scottish…”

  Andrew jabbed Erik with an elbow to the ribs in warning.

  “Girl… Scottish girl.”

  “Your betrothal is already set. The banns have been posted and since you did not wait and post the banns with Lady Du Montefort, We choose not to acknowledge them.”

  Erik rose to his full height, and he said, “The banns were not posted because…time was of the essence. Rhianna and I…The point is Rhianna is married to me in every way except now on paper.”

  “But there is yet no babe. It was easily annulled.” With the mention of the baby, all restraints on Erik’s temper broke.

  “There was a babe. Rhianna carried my child but lost it. She is my wife and I’ll be damned if you force me to marry some border savage to placate royal intrigue.” Andrew shifted nervously on his feet.

  God’s teeth, he thought. Erik is going to get us all killed. It is certain.

  “Hold your tongue, Sir. You over step your boundaries and We are sorely losing patience.”

  “I will not be silent. This is unbelievable. I did your bidding as I always have and went to Montefort keep to rein it under control. I married the girl you sent me to marry in the first place.”

  “You petitioned Us to release you from that marriage, which We now have done and now you wish Us to grant this favor again?”

  “I petitioned at first. You never answered and I…”

  “You are completely out of line, Sir. You will address Us properly. You sullied the virtue of a noble woman and you persist to dare your temper with Us. You will show Us the proper respect immediately,” the king thundered.

  Erik felt more anger than fear. He stood straight and he never let his gaze waiver. Andrew cleared his throat and whispered, “Calm down, Erik. This will get you nowhere.”

  Erik ignored him and held his ground. Drew could see that Erik was not going to back down and the situation was only going to deteriorate from here. How Drew hated court affairs. Each time the king spoke in the Royal “we” seemed to grate harder on his already frayed nerves.

  The king motioned for his scribe to approach and after giving him a direct order, he told one of his guards, “Bring in the girl. We would have Erik Ragnorsen meet his bride.”

  At the mention of “bride,” Erik practically lunged at the king and it was only the steady grip of Drew’s hand upon Erik’s shoulder that prevented him from doing so.

  Quite coerced, the girl was lead in to court. She seemed to be heavily guarded and while she was not bound with restraints; it was obvious she was not so much a guest, but more like a prisoner. She looked murderous and Andrew could tell she no more wanted to marry Erik than he wanted to marry her. For a brief moment, Andrew’s eyes met hers. He felt a strange emotion at that very moment; like the charge of a lightning storm on the horizon. It was quickly staunched as the girl looked away. Her eyes befell Erik and Drew almost thought she actually blanched. For all her murderous resolve, upon seeing Erik, Drew could tell the girl was terrified.

  Erik eyed her with contempt.

  “Your Majesty, this is the baggage you wish thrust upon your loyal servant? I will not have a savage in my bed!”

  At those words, the girl seemed to regain her courage, and she reacted. She strode deliberately up to Erik and slapped his handsome face. If he was shocked he did not register it. Stoically, he bore the assault and he grinned sardonically at her. That mocking look seemed to fire her all the more. Andrew was surprised the girl could actually reach Erik’s face, as he was like a blonde giant, and she seemed dwarfed by his size. He was also astounded that she even would dare such a thing for it took great bravery to strike someone as imposing as Erik. Andrew looked at this girl, and he would have been amused at her abuse towards Erik if the situation was not so dire. He would have even admired the girl’s tenacity. But the situation was dire, for them all, so Drew could find no amusement in any of it.

  Despite the gravity of the situation at hand, Andrew was assailed by how pretty this girl was. As angry expletives flew from the girl’s lips in her native Gaelic, Andrew tried not to smirk. His best friend’s life, after all, was at stake. But, Drew liked her fiery nature. She had courage and strength and spirit. Yes, she was quite spirited, indeed. Spirited and beautiful.

  “You see, Your Majesty, she does not even speak in a civilized tongue.”

  Andrew rolled his eyes. Erik was hell bent on severing both their necks.

  The Scottish lass turned toward the king and she said, “There! You have it! He will have me as much as I will have him. My father’s clan will see to justice, I have no doubt. Release me.”

  While Bronwyn did not want bloodshed to befall her family, she hoped the threat would somehow strike fear in this savage fool the English called their king. The king ignored the girl and addressed Erik.

  “Have a care, Sir Ragnorsen. You will marry this girl. It is decided.”

  “I will not. I am already married. I will not take this Scottish dog to wife.”

  Stunned at what Erik had just revealed, Bronwyn turned to the king and said, “What does he mean he is already married? What sort of twisted game is this?”

  The king looked at the girl before him as if she was no more than a mere gnat, wanting to be swatted away. Wearily, he said, “His marriage has been dissolved. We grow bored and tired of this drama. Erik Ragnorsen, will you bend to Our will?”

  “I will not!”

  As anger purpled the monarch’s face with rage, he called out, “Arrest him. Take him to a cell where he can think about his decision. Remove his spurs and belt.”

  Andrew was horrified. They were stripping Erik of his knighthood. As if this degradation was not enough, the girl pitched forward and spit directly in Erik’s face as the guards dragged him away. She was prepared to claw, slap and scratch at him, but Andrew grabbed hold of the girl and prevented her from further assault. She twisted and looked ready to do battle with Andrew as well. Andrew’s leaf green eyes met those of the Scottish lass. Her eyes were the color of warm whiskey with golden flecks that entranced him. Her eyes had the same effect of the pooling warmth in his belly that a good mug of that very whiskey from her native land often had.

  Bronwyn felt a strange jolt go through her as this tall stranger grabbed hold of her, and as her eyes met his, she tried to understand why she felt like her legs melted beneath her. She had seen that smile before. No, she thought, t’is the imaginings of the mind. She felt something akin to a shock course through her at his touch. She tried to show bravado, and she growled up at him, “Let me go”.

  He was with the Viking giant and therefore he was as good as the enemy.

  “I will not, lass. He is my friend and disgraced or not, I will not have you further it.”

  Something in his tone made her relax. He did not hold the hatred for her in his gaze that the blonde giant seemed to. In fact, he had the oddest expression on his face that was more concerned than filled with hate. She felt him assessing her and while she wanted to break free, she did not pull away. Andrew was once again assailed by her beauty. Her thick chestnut hair hung in soft waves to her waist. Unlike Erik’s Rhianna, whose ebony hair hung straight and sleek, this one’s hair was curling at the ends. Glints of auburn streaked her tresses. Her skin was flawless; like that of the image of an angel. Long dark lashes fringed her brandy colored eyes. She wore a plaid in the shades of her clan of blue and green, and it made her look not of this world but of somet
hing of the Tuatha De. Her lips, although bowed in a frown, were pink and full, and Andrew would dare say he wondered how they would taste in a kiss. He could tell that for all her bravado, she was frightened. He loosened his grip upon her delicate wrist and said, “I’ll not hurt you, my lady. My fight is not with you.”

  He released her once Erik had been escorted from the room. Bronwyn did not like the feelings this man had caused inside of her. It was unnerving and disturbing. It frightened her more than that Viking beast. She turned and fled, leaving Andrew facing the king. He growled at Andrew and said, “You are dismissed. We have no business with you.”

  Andrew opened his mouth to speak, but decided against it, thinking it would be best to leave it for the moment. Bowing, Drew silently turned to leave the Royal court.

  Drew actually had a plan to free Erik, but for now Erik would have to cool his heels in the cell until Andrew could set his plan in motion. He knew his plan was less than cautious, but knowing that little hellion Erik had married, Andrew knew Rhianna would not object. He hated to put her in jeopardy, but he could think of no other way. This was a desperate situation that called for desperate measures.

  Drew sent word that very night to Randolph Du Montfort and to Rhianna explaining everything. He had not wanted to hurt Rhianna with news of their divorce, but Andrew found he had no other choice but to tell her the total truth. He had gotten to know Rhianna very well since Erik and she wed and Drew knew her to be brave and strong. While news of the divorce would be devastating to her, if his plan worked, Drew knew that Rhianna and Erik could always renew their vows in the future, once this was all settled. In a separate letter to Rhianna, Drew explained that she would have to claim she was carrying Erik’s child again and that the king must reconsider. It was the only way to buy some time before Erik was wed to Bronwyn. At the thought of Bronwyn marrying Erik, Drew felt strangely disturbed. He wondered why that girl would make him feel that way, but disturb him it did. Suddenly, Drew thought it was very important to see that his best friend did not marry the Scottish lass, for more reasons than he allowed himself to admit.