Highland Charm: First Fantasies

by April Holthaus

  James stormed out of the room in search of Rory. If anyone could find Abigale, Rory was the one. Out of all the Guardians, his tracking ability was superior. However, James prayed that he wasn’t too late.

  Chapter 22

  Unless a serpent devour a serpent it will not become a dragon. ~ Chinese Proverb

  James sat perched on his massive black war horse on top of the cliff looking down into the valley below. The highland winds blew and rattled the nearby trees that concealed their presence. Conall was mounted on his chestnut steed next to James. His horse pranced in anticipation. “If anyone can find Lady Abigale, ‘tis Rory.”

  “Aye.” James sat motionless, amber eyes swirling intensely as he searched for movement below. Rory led them right to Marcus, but the campsite was unnervingly quiet. James sent Rory to find Abigale just in case the enemy had moved her to a different location. Even though James could sense that she was here, he wanted to make sure before they attacked.

  James noticed movement towards a smaller cliff and nodded in that direction. “At least two hundred archers over there.”

  Conall observed and concurred, “Aye.”

  “Och lads, two hundred men and four dragons seems like a disadvantage. Should we play nice?” Magnus said.

  “Magnus, if yer lady was held captive… would ye play nice?” James bit back.

  “Nay, I’d gut them where they stood.”

  A rustle nearby turned their bantering to silence as they drew their swords and waited for an attack.

  Rory looked like he had just seen the Devil himself. Three swords stared at him with their pointy ends promising to slash his throat. “God’s Blood, ye almost made me shite myself!”

  James sheathed his sword and waited for Rory to speak. “Well?”

  “Lady Abigale is here. See that red tent by the forest tree line?” Rory pointed to the tent. “Yer lady is in there. Alive."

  Relieved at the good news, James exhaled. “And Marcus?”

  “Aye, he’s here. I can feel the bastart.” Rory’s eyes narrowed in disgust.

  Once James had informed his men about Marcus and how he’d betrayed the clan, the Dragonkine warriors were shocked and confused. Marcus was one of only a few humans the warriors allowed in their inner circle; primarily because he was James’s cousin. Dragon he was not but he fought on the battlefields like he was. Marcus was considered one of their own. So his betrayal was a bitter brew to swallow.

  “Rory, Magnus, stay here and watch those men.” James pointed to the small cliff where the archers were posted. “Conall, come with me."

  ~~~~~

  Marcus and the group of five armored men walked through the campsite. After the news of Sheriff Rickert’s sudden passing, the men who held true to the late sheriff became unruly. Marcus needed to put an end to it. Either you were with him or against him, there was no in between. It wasn't necessary that they needed Rickert’s table scraps of an army. Five inhuman savages could take down an army twice the size without batting an eyelash. Aye, the Creepers came in handy.

  With each footstep, Marcus could feel every lash upon his skin due to the sheriff’s beatings begin to tingle, and rage bubbled in his veins. “Are the archers positioned?”

  The knight bowed his head to confirm.

  “Very well.” Marcus turned to the five. “Remember the lady is to be unharmed.” The leader of the group nodded and drew his sword. No words were spoken, just action as the five massive heavily armored men began to swing their swords into Sherriff Rickert’s ground troops. The men had no time to react. Most of the men were unarmed as they milled around the camp. Blood sprayed as throats were slit, limbs dangled as swords crashed through bodies, and screams rang out into the night. Five men rained down hell upon a hundred men in no time at all. A perfect ambush.

  A sardonic smile reached the corners of Marcus’s mouth as he heard the blood-curdling screams. He looked around the looming cliffs and sniffed the air. It wouldn’t be long now. The dragon would come for his woman and he would be waiting for him.

  ~~~~~

  Surprised that they had not been confronted by guards, James and Conall approached the campsite with caution. Their eyes scanned the perimeter, but saw no movement. No soldiers or horses, nothing. They kept their guard up, and continued deeper into the camp. “Something is no right here," James whispered to Conall.

  “Aye, do ye smell it?” Conall crinkled up his nose at the foul stench.

  “Aye.” James knew the stench of death all too well.

  They came to a halt, for the sight before them stole their breath. Lifeless bodies littered the ground, and slashed, tattered material from the tents blew into the night breeze like ribbons rippling through the air. Fear of what might have become of Abigale drove James forward. He had to find her, but by the looks of things it seemed unlikely she would have survived the attack.

  “There’s more here than death, James. It’s some kind of magic, I can feel it.” Conall bent down and placed his hands on the ground.

  A tingling sensation pricked up his spine as his dragon stirred. No doubt he felt it and so did his dragon. “Creepers,” James snarled.

  “Aye, Death Dragons.” Conall stood and wiped his hands on his plaid. “But the question is why are they here?”

  “Dinnae know but it can no be good. I can feel it, it’s like a pulse of energy running through my blood. I’ve never felt anything like it." Sweat started to slide down James’s face. This feeling left him unnerved.

  “I feel it too, my friend.”

  Every dragon instinct told James to shift, but if there was a chance Abigale was here, James didn’t want to scare her.

  One tent stood out from the others; it was still intact. James prayed Abigale was in there unharmed and safe. Realization hit him hard in the chest; no one escaped the wrath of the Creepers.

  As James approached the tent he saw a head staked outside the entrance. As he got closer he recognized the head. It was the filth who had taken Castle Douglas from him years ago. The filth that James had battled hard against to regain possession. The filth he set on fire and watched burn, so he’d thought. “Rickert,” James hissed.

  “Looks like he pissed off the wrong person,” Conall jested.

  James kicked the stake over and entered the tent.

  James was not prepared for what he saw. His beautiful Abigale sat hugging her knees inside of an iron-barred birdcage. Abigale looked up and his heart sunk to his stomach. Quickly, she stood.

  He pushed his hands through the openings of the cage and cupped Abigale’s face. “Are ye hurt, love?”

  Dirty tears fell from her deep blue eyes and landed on his hands.

  “Hang on. I’ll get ye out of there.” James kissed her hard. He couldn’t believe she was alive. When he broke the kiss, he noticed that her cheek was swollen and there was a cut on her bottom lip. Rubbing his thumb over her lip, he said, “Who hit ye?”

  “James, ye must leave now while ye still can,” Abigale pleaded. “It’s a trap. Marcus, he’s going to kill ye.”

  “Did he do this to ye?”

  “Please, James, ye must leave.”

  “Och lass, do ye have no faith in yer husband? I am a dragon in case ye have forgot.”

  Abigale didn’t take kindly to his jest. “Not even the Black Douglas can survive those… those armored creatures. James, please leave. Save yerself. Marcus won't hurt me, but he will kill ye.”

  “Abigale, Marcus was the one who tried to kill me. Ye can no trust him for his words are lies.”

  Conall stood guard just outside the entrance of the tent when the stench of death became stronger and the air surrounding them turned cold. He peeked his head inside the tent. “Ye mind hurrying things up a bit?”

  With ease, James pried the iron bars apart just enough for Abigale to step out of the cage. He wrapped his arms tightly around her and whispered in her ear through her auburn hair. ”I thought I lost ye, lass.”

  Abigale held tight around his neck. “I
’m no that easy to get rid of.”

  In no time at all, flaming arrows flew in all directions, piercing the tent and barely missing the three of them. There was no time to hesitate. If they were going to make it out alive, James had to shift. His massive dragon body could shield her from the arrows until she was somewhere safe, but she would have to see him shift. He couldn’t do it. He feared she would never be able to look at him in the same light again; the beast inside would be what she remembered, not the man.

  James’s eyes glowed amber, pupils turned to slits, and fingers turned into talons. “Conall, get Abigale out of here.”

  Conall knew exactly what was going on; James was about to shift. “Let me shift. Two Dragons are better than one.”

  “Nay! Get. Her. Out. Of. Here. Now!” James growled the last word.

  Enlarged blue eyes stared back at him. Shite, she had seen his talons. “Now, Conall!”

  His second in command grabbed Abigale’s hand and took off towards the forest, dodging arrows on the way.

  The look on Abigale’s face told James that he had made the right decision. No way was she ready to see him shift. If he had any say-so about it, she would never see him in dragon form. His dragon was pure evil and menacing. To make things more complicated, he barely had control of it. A young dragon is unpredictable.

  Flesh began to peel away, leaving black shimmering scales; his bones began to crack. His spine popped vertebra by vertebra as his human body extended into a massive black dragon with twin horns on top of his head. Leathery black wings unfolded where shoulder blades used to be. In one fluid motion, a wing swept the area, sending the tent flying into the sky.

  Like a rain storm, red flames flew through the blackness of the night and showered down pelting James like hail. Arrows struck James in every direction. An earth-rattling roar echoed through the campsite, shaking the tree branches. Wide wings shielded his body from the arrows that threatened to embed in his back. Hopefully Conall could get Abigale to safety; after all he didn’t know how long he could distract the archers. He would take as many arrows as necessary in order to keep Abigale alive.

  The assault stopped abruptly. Thank the Gods for Magnus and Rory. They had done their job and stopped the archers.

  Out of the corner of James’s eye he saw Marcus crouching down approaching cautiously with his broadsword drawn, waiting to make his deadly blow. James turned his enormous body toward the bastard and growled low and deep. Nostrils flared, amber eyes glowed as James held Marcus’s stare.

  “Ye found me, cousin. Took ye long enough,” Marcus taunted, wanting James to lose control and make the first mistake. An unpredictable, out of control dragon was a dead one.

  Unfolding his wings, James swept the ground, sending blood-drenched dirt into Marcus’s face. Frantically he wiped his face. But before James could make contact, Marcus heaved his sword above his head and slammed the metal into James’s long neck.

  James roared in pain and stumbled back from the deadly blow. Marcus used this to his advantage and quickly approached James, intending to give the final blow. All he had to do was hit the same spot with more force and the beast’s head would be hanging on his wall like a prized trophy.

  Cocky and confident, Marcus advanced on James, but failed to see a long, black tail sweep across the ground knocking him on his arse. James stood over Marcus before he could catch his breath and get to his feet.

  One giant paw grabbed the betrayer’s neck, talons pinned his neck to the ground like a cage. James lowered his head just inches from Marcus’s. Blood from his wound dripped down his neck and splattered upon Marcus’s face. Hot breath invaded his face as James stared and snarled at him.

  Sinister laughter ripped through Marcus. “Cousin, it really doesn’t matter who dies here tonight as long as it’s a dragon who dies." At that moment Marcus’s eyes glowed ice blue with reptilian slits.

  Even though James was in dragon form he still had human thoughts inside. Marcus a dragon? Nay, after all these years he would have felt it. Lips peeled back to form a snarl. Not only had Marcus betrayed him; he’d betrayed his Dragonkine brothers. Rage and anger took over reason as he thought of how Marcus had used Abigale and put her in great danger.

  “Go ahead, do it, kill me!” Marcus shouted.

  ~~~~~

  Magnus and Rory quickly shifted back into human form after the last archer met his death by dragon. Magnus stopped and observed his surroundings as he felt a prickle of magic slip up his spine. They were closer now to the campsite than before and the stench of death was faint, but enough to tell Magnus that there was much more to this situation then a rescue mission.

  “Nay,” Magnus grumbled. “I can’t believe I didnae recognize it sooner."

  Rory walked up to Magnus, tucking his tunic into his plaid. “Recognize what?”

  Magnus bent down and grabbed a handful of dry earth. “Blood shall awaken the spirits. The king will rise again.”

  “Magnus man, ye must stop sputtering in rhymes and riddles. I dinnae understand.”

  “Rory, we are on the sacred ground of the ancients. We must hurry. Dragon blood can no be spilled on holy ground.”

  A shrill whistle from Magnus called out to their horses. Two warhorses came charging to their masters from the forest. Without hesitation, Magnus grabbed a lock of mane, threw his muscled leg over the horse, and took the reins in his hands. His horse pranced in anticipation, eager to run. “We must make haste. I’ll explain everything soon, but we must stop those fools from killing each other.”

  Rory shrugged his shoulders and quickly mounted his horse.

  ~~~~~

  James began to crush Marcus’s neck until Magnus and Rory ran toward them. “James, ye can no kill him! No here,” Magnus yelled. “Ye dinnae understand, if ye kill him Scotland will be destroyed. We will all die.”

  James turned his head to look at Magnus as if he didn’t understand what the daft man was saying.

  “Let him go, lad. No blood can be spilled.” Magnus challenged James with glowing green eyes. The firmness of Magnus’s voice held true; James didn’t want to fight an elder, but Marcus had put his lady in harm’s way. No way was Marcus leaving this place in one piece, he needed to be punished. One way or the other, a part of the bastard was going to die. He wouldn’t shed his blood here tonight but he could take his dragon, leaving him a mortal human. Which he deserved for betraying him.

  Without hesitation, James took his free hand and buried it deep into Marcus’s chest. Marcus’s eyes flew wide open, and he tried desperately to squirm away.

  Desperate, Marcus fought to break free, but it was too late; James retrieved his fist from Marcus’s chest and with it his beating dragon heart. Marcus screamed in defeat.

  James released his talons and backed away. No dragon ever enjoyed seeing a Dragonkine’s essence destroyed. Every Dragonkine warrior standing by could feel Marcus’s loss.

  Marcus stood and gripped his chest. “Ye have always thought ye were better than everyone else haven’t ye? He spat at James’s feet. "Ye take what ye want and do no care about anyone but yerself.”

  James stood, nostrils flared as he fought back the urge to singe him to ash.

  Magnus’s voice broke their stare down. “Marcus, ye need to leave well enough alone. Ye are now banished from Scotland. If we see ye here, we will stop at nothing to hunt ye down and kill ye,” Magnus stated grimly.

  ~~~~~

  Marcus looked around the campsite. There was no signs of the Creepers anywhere. Strange, he thought, why didn’t they help him now? Together, they could slaughter these dragons and fulfill his destiny. Where were they?

  “Exiled?” He spat. Being as he’d felt like Scotland had never really opened her arms to him nor his Dragonkine brethren, he laughed. After years of feeling like a failure, he'd cloaked himself as human thinking mayhap he could find acceptance as one. But history could not be erased; he could never forget what the humans had done to his king. In truth, it was because of these vile hum
ans that his life had never been lived to its fullest potential. And wasn’t it ironic how his own people called him the traitor, when in fact it was the humans that had betrayed Dragonkine.

  The Earth had shifted now, he could feel it. He would right the wrong and soon, verra soon, his kingdom would rise again.

  Showing the Dragonkine no signs of weakness, even though he felt every last drop of energy slowly fading, Marcus climbed up on his horse and clucked him into a run as he fled the site.

  The path he chose to take took him high into the cold snow-covered mountains deep in the Highlands. No one would venture up there, nor would the bite of the frigid weather chill his bones; ice now replaced his warm blood.

  Strength was fading fast and he began to feel faint. He released his hands from his chest. To his surprise, his hand was covered in blood. Blood? he thought. When James had taken his dragon heart there was no blood that he’d noticed, but as he looked down into the white snow, a trail of crimson followed him.

  His body went limp, causing him to fall off his mount and into a cushion of powdery snow. As he lay there looking up into the sky, flurries covered his face. Blood has been shed, now hasn’t it? Marcus grinned in triumph as his world slowly filled with darkness. Perhaps enough blood had been shed.

  Chapter 23

  Danger and delight grow on one stalk. ~ Scottish Proverb

  “Let me go, Conall. I must see him.” Abigale squirmed in Conall’s arms.

  “Nay, my lady. James does no want you to see him like this.”

  “I can no stay hidden while Marcus and those creatures kill James. Dragon or not, I must stop him. He will listen to me.”

  “I’m afraid I can no let you.” Conall struggled to gain control of the feisty lass. “Settle down or I’ll have to tie ye to a tree.”