Storm Trilogy

by Ria Cantrell

  She turned and screamed, “No. He is mine. He is ours, Drew. See, I told you I truly carried a child of our making. He is ours, he is ours…ours.”

  Daria ranted in a quarrel that only involved her.

  “Give me that child, you stupid slut.”

  “Drew, dunna’ provoke her. She is very sick, man.”

  “Sick? She murdered her father. He still lies in the house with a dirk to his throat.”

  Daria let out a scream and she said, “Noooooooo. He forced me to do it. He made me do it. You made me do it. You would not have me because of that savage you have bedded. She is barren and can’t even give you a child, but I can. Come see your son, Drew.”

  Drew approached Daria slowly. Looking over at Rory, he said, “Aye, let me see our son.”

  Rory inched nearer as well, hoping to be able to reach her and pull her away from the ledge, which she was much too close to for his liking. This was not going to end well, he could feel it. He had to try something; anything.

  Daria saw the big Scottish beast making his way slowly to her. She turned and screamed, “Stay away from me. I want none of your kind near me. Stay away, or I will throw the child down into the river this instant.”

  “You dunna’ want to do that, Lass. Give the babe over to his father,” Rory said, playing along with the ruse. Drew could see dirt and pebbles sliding down the side of the steep drop as Daria backed up a step. He swallowed deeply; his larynx bobbing downward. He had never encountered such evil in his entire life. Drew threw off the mail hauberk. It would only hinder him and he needed to be able to move with the most agility.

  He thought if he got close enough, perhaps he could pass the child to Rory and then grab Daria before she went over the edge. He knew he could not rush her but part of him wanted to just grab the child, come what may. He just did not know the best thing to do. All his years training for war and tactical process did not prepare him for this.

  Daria’s eyes darted from Rory to Drew. She could see them inching their way closer to her and she said, “Stay away. Unless you have come to make me your wife, come no closer to me. And tell that barbarian to keep his distance. I can smell his stench even from here.”

  Drew wanted to comment that the only stench they could smell was that of the rotting dead man in the dwelling. He held his tongue though, because he knew better than to provoke this she-demon. Hell, when she wasn’t mad, she was vicious in her anger. Now, there was no telling what she could do. She obviously had succumbed to a disease of the soul that had rotted her through with evil, not unlike the rotting of the murdered earl. His stomach clenched as he forced himself to speak the lies that might ultimately save the innocent child, “Daria, I have put Bronwyn aside. I did it for you.”

  Even knowing those words were untrue; they left bitter bile in his mouth. He did not even want to look at Rory, because he could feel his blood boiling at such a profession. It was too close to home, he was sure. Only, Drew knew that he would never put Rory’s sister aside. If she would listen to him, when this ordeal was through, he would make her understand that she was the only woman he would ever love.

  Instead, Drew heard Rory say, “There, ye’ have it, lass. He and my sister are estranged. He came here to find ye’.”

  Drew nodded, thinking that Rory was as good a liar as he was. Drew thought he saw Daria take a step forward. Dirt and blood streaked her face and clothes. He wondered how long she had been in this state. He wondered how he had ever felt any attraction to this woman, for mad or not, her soul was black! With the speed and agility only years of training with sword had offered both men, that small step forward offered Rory the chance he needed. While he lunged for the child, Drew sprung to grab the deranged woman. Cradling the babe in his big arms, Rory hit the ground and rolled, protecting the infant as best he could.

  Kicking and screaming like a wild and rabid animal, Daria’s heel connected with Drew’s ribs. He swore as he was sure she had found just the spot he had only recently injured during his battle with the feral boar. It knocked the wind from him. Seeing that Rory had the baby, Daria cursed Drew and said, “You lied to me. You just wanted the baby…you never wanted me, else you would not have brought him with you. You are still with that whore. Get your filthy hands away from me Drew Brandham…” and with that, Daria scuttled back toward the precipice of the ledge.

  Drew tried to grab her before she fell, but she looked him squarely in the eyes and stepped off, sailing downward, till they heard the sickening thud as she hit the rocks below. Drew stood as close to the edge as he dared and he stared in disbelief at the broken and twisted body of the woman who had once been his lover, turned murderess. He heard a strange sound escape from Rory, “Noooooooo”, which vaguely sounded like a howling wolf to him. Turning his head to see Rory, it was all like a bad dream in a slow motioned haze. He looked back down hoping to not see Daria in that horrible mangled position below, but alas, no. She lay there, and even from that height, he could see the blood pooling from her head. If he had thought there was a chance that she still lived, he would have still tried to help her despite what she had done to him and to Bronwyn, but he saw that her neck was bent at an unnatural angle and Drew knew that it was broken. Daria had died instantly, Drew was certain of that.

  As Drew stared down at the earthly remains of the woman who had caused so much heartache to so many people, he was unaware of the shifting gravel beneath his own feet. He thought the sound of it hitting the rocks was left from Daria’s plummet. Rory called out, “Drew, look out!”

  It was too late. The ground began to shift beneath Drew’s feet, and he found himself now hanging over the ledge. His fingers clawed at the dirt to try to hold him from making the same descent as Daria, but with each grasp of soil, more slid from beneath him.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Rhianna reached out and clasped Bronwyn’s hands within her own.

  Oh my God, Rhianna thought. Bronwyn is pregnant, only she does not yet know it. Rhianna could feel the spirit of the child already growing within her friend but as she felt this new life growing, she felt a sudden feeling of life slipping away. Drew was in danger. Mortal danger! Damn it! There is not much time. She had to make him feel Bronwyn’s love so that he could fight and stay alive.

  She faced Bronwyn and she said, “You must envision all the love you feel in your heart for Drew you must surround him with it. Send it to him. Close your eyes and imagine seeing him now; holding him. Imagine making love to him. Surround him now.”

  Bronwyn closed her eyes. She saw all the times he had done things for her on her behalf and she realized just how selfish she had been. She saw the beating he had taken for her, him tenderly caring for her after they made love that first time, him saving her from the highway men, him bringing her that beautiful harp, him loving her and needing her while he was sick, him going off to Scotland to bring her family to the wedding, him learning Gaelic so he could speak to her in her native tongue, him trying to protect her from Daria. So much guilt assailed her, that a sob escaped her.

  Rhianna jerked her hands and said, “Nay, no time for that now. Now is the time for love. You must do this for him. You must show him you love him.”

  Shaking her head, Bronwyn said, “I cannot.”

  “You must. Try it again. You have to do this. It could save his life.”

  Opening her eyes, and meeting Rhianna’s, Bronwyn said, “Is there danger? Do ye’ feel it, too?”

  Now was not the time to shield this woman. It was now or never and Drew needed the power of her love this instant. Rhianna said, “He is in grave danger. If he does not believe that you still love him, he will die. Only the power of your love can save him now.”

  “But Rory is with him, surely he….”

  “Rory cannot save him. This is up to you. You must try again.”

  Bronwyn’s eyes snapped shut, and she concentrated on those times again, that Drew had been so kind and giving to her. She concentrated on each time they made love, feeling the i
ntense power of not only the love between them, but the passion that existed; passion even when she was angry with him. She heard Rhianna whispering something to her that was not unlike what Morag was known to do.

  As if thinking her name, Morag’s voice seemed to also resound in her mind. She could hear the two voices whispering before her. She heard Morag say, “Ye’ canna’ run from it any longer. This is yer’ destiny. Let the past go and open yer’ heart fully. Drew needs all that is within yer’ heart now.”

  Likewise, Rhianna was whispering, “Love him, love him, surround him with your love.”

  Then, as much as Bronwyn had denied the Old Ways, it suddenly seemed like many voices were beside her. All were filling her with love. She could hear the voice of her beloved mother and probably the Ancients that had gone before her. They were all there, surrounding her with a blazing white light, which she now could see in her mind’s eye pulling Drew, extending around him.

  Bronwyn knew she should have been frightened, but she felt so much love, that she could not feel afraid. There was nothing to fear. Instead she felt the love growing inside her. She felt love pouring out of her fingertips into Rhianna’s hands and back again.

  Bronwyn could feel the power of all the people who had ever loved her, both living and those passed on. It thrummed through her veins like the life-blood and she could not contain it. It swirled around Drew and enveloped him like perfect peace and joy. It had the power to save him. Bronwyn felt the link to him and she did not doubt he could feel it too. It was too powerful to not trust. Bronwyn held on to all those who were with her, at that moment, for as long as she could. She did not dare break the spell or whatever it was, for fear of breaking the tie she had to Drew.

  She murmured the words that had brought him back the first time; those words in Gaelic that drew him home to her and she let them resound over and over in her head as if she was performing an incantation. Bronwyn repeated them again and again until they were the only whispers she heard. Realizing the Others had left her, she opened her eyes. Everything stilled and silenced and panic seized her heart.

  “No, make them come back--I canna’ fail Drew now.”

  Rhianna said, “It is done.”

  She looked pale and tired. Bronwyn searched the room, hoping to see a sign of the presence she had just felt, but it was only Rhianna and herself at this moment.”

  “No, please--help me I canna’ leave it at this.”

  Rhianna sat down wearily. She said softly, “Even if I wanted to, I cannot. I am very tired. It is in God’s hands now.”

  “Tell me how I can bring them back--I will ….”

  “Bronwyn, don’t you realize, they are with you always? Love does not just last in the presence at the moment. Those who love you love you still. Just because your father and brothers are not in this room, do they love you any less?”

  Bronwyn shook her head, “No.”

  “Then why would you think that they need to be summoned back? They are with you and you are with them. What they helped you do is all you could hope for. Drew knows the truth now. That is all that matters.”

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Acting quickly, Rory gently placed the baby on a small thatch of grass and he quickly dove to grab hold of Drew. He was sliding faster than Rory could grab him. Rory flattened himself on the ground, knowing that standing near the ledge would send them both hurtling to the rocks below. On his belly, it was more stable. There was less shifting of the soil beneath him. His large fist grabbed around Drew’s wrist. He did not know if it was enough to stop him from sliding further.

  Drew said, “Save yourself, Rory.”

  “Nay, Brother. I canna’ do that. We lost the lass…I dunna’ intend to lose ye’, too. If ye’ go, I go with ye’.”

  “But Bronwyn,” Drew croaked. His breath was shallow and speaking was difficult. “Please tell her I have always loved her and …I am sorry.”

  “Tell her yerself’. Come on Drew. Ye’ have to try to pull up on my arms. I’ve got ye’.”

  Drew tried to hoist himself up. If only he could get a foothold, he would have the leverage to pony himself up. With each try, more dirt and gravel fell away. Even Rory slid forward some. Rory dug the tips of his boots into the ground to prevent him from skidding any further toward the ledge.

  “It’s no use, Rory. I don’t think I can hold on much longer.” Rory cursed an oath and he said, “Dunna’ even dare. I thought ye’ had more mettle than that. Try again.”

  Rory then said something in his native tongue and Drew thought he was calling the Ancients for aid. As rocks and sand spilled into Drew’s eyes, he felt Rory’s hold slipping. Rather his hold was slipping from Rory’s. Drew suddenly felt a strong sense of peace come over him. His body relaxed. He said, “Bronwyn, I love you. Never forget it. Never doubt it. I have always loved you…from the day I first saw you.”

  The words echoed in his mind. As Drew stopped fighting the inevitable, he seemed to feel powerful white light forming a globe around him. He heard the murmurs of whispers of love from the only woman he had ever given his heart to. He embraced it, knowing it was the last thing he would feel before he hit the rocks below. She knows, he thought. She knows I love her, and she still loves me. It’s alright now.

  As Drew felt Rory’s hand release him, he prepared himself for the pain of his body being broken on the rocks that had claimed Daria.

  Instead, when Drew had let go of Rory’s hand, Rory was able to grab hold of his shirt with both hands. His fingers dug into Drew’s upper arms as they seemed to grip around each bicep. Drew knew not to flex them in any way, and suddenly one boot found a toe hold which gave him merely inches of solid earth to push his weight against. With his hands free, Drew was able to grasp onto the ledge. He kept repeating in his mind, “She loves me…I feel it. I have to hold on.”

  “Come on, Brother. Ye’ are almost there. Try to get another solid hold.”

  Drew found yet another solid toe grip, and he pushed with all his might against the place that offered him his only chance to escape certain death. He ignored the sand and grit that poured into his eyes and he felt Rory’s grip slide him further over the top of the edge.

  That was enough to help Drew get his torso from the waist up over the side of the dirt and rock wall. With Rory’s pulling to buoy him back over the ledge, Drew was able to finally pull himself completely over. He lay sprawled in the dirt, panting and gasping to catch his breath. Rory stood, grabbing both of Drew’s arms and he yanked him further away from the precarious edge.

  It took a few moments to get his heart and lungs working normally. When he could, Drew sat up. He was almost afraid to move lest the ground fail and he find himself plunging back down the ravine. Finally, Drew dragged himself to his feet. He clasped Rory’s forearm and said, “I don’t know how to thank you. You saved my life.”

  With an embarrassed smile, Rory said, “Ach, ye’ would have done the same fer’ me, aye?”

  Drew nodded. He bent forward, holding his side. Still breathing heavily, he gasped, “Thank God you are a muscle-bound barbarian.”

  The two men laughed, then. They laughed with the release of the tragedy they just had averted. They laughed until tears ran down both their dirty faces, causing rivulets of mud to streak down their cheeks.

  Sobering, Drew finally said, “What should we do about her? We can’t just leave her for carrion to feast on her. And her dead father lies inside.”

  “Let’s get the wee bairn back to his mother. Then we shall bring men and find a way down to the ravine at a safe distance from this crumbling embankment. I promise we will give the lass a proper burial.”

  Drew was amazed at the compassion that Rory was capable of. He said, “Rory, thank you for trying not to excite her further. I thought when I denied your sister, I was going to feel your fist connect with my face again.”

  A sad look came over him. Rory hung his head. “I dinna’ want her to do it, lad. In saving the child, I couldna’ save the lass. I
regret that.”

  “Even knowing what she had done?”

  “She was very sick, Brother. Anyone could see that. Sometimes there are dark demons inside us all. I understand about that.”

  Drew nodded in understanding.

  “You know you could not have done anything more to save her. It was not your fault, Rory.”

  “I know it. Still doesna’ mean I dunna’ wish there was more I could do.”

  Rory picked up the baby and carried him to his awaiting horse. Rory fastened the swaddling and tied it around his own shoulders. The baby had ceased its squalling as it was secured against Rory. Once he was settled on the horse, Rory was able to cradle the infant against his mighty chest safely so that he could ride. Drew was amazed at the many tender sides Rory showed. It was time to go home. It was time to see his wife.

  The two men rode back to Ragnorsen Keep in silence. There was not much they could say. So much had happened between them this day. Such a tragic end to it all. Although not nearly as tragic, had they both plunged to their death along with Daria. There were blessings to be found amid the sadness of the events that took place on that ridge. Drew was grateful for them, and he counted them, and thanked God and the many powers that enabled him to live at the end of it all.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Bronwyn stood pinned to her spot when Rory strode into the keep, carrying the small sleeping child. She expected to see Drew right behind him, but he seemed to be alone. Panic seized her heart as she ran to Rory and demanded, “Where is he? Please tell me, I must know.”

  “Sit down, Lass.”

  Bronwyn’s eyes welled with tears and she shook her head, “No, dear God, no. Please tell me it isn’t so...”

  As she began to shake with sobs, Rory said, “Hush, Sweeting. He made it. He’s just stabling the horses, so I could return the babe to his mother.”