Highlander The Dark Dragon

by Donna Fletcher

  “The devil,” Patience finished.

  “So you signed with the devil instead,” Emma said, shaking her head.

  “Did he at least give his word that he would treat her well?” Patience asked.

  “What good is the word of such a vile man?” Emma said frustrated.

  Heather wanted to reassure the two that she would be fine, but she was not fine; she was scared to death. Actually death seemed preferable to what she was about to face. Tales of the Dark Dragon spread far and wide. Recently a traveler had passed through their village and she had overheard him talking with a Macinnes warrior. He had told the warrior that it was known that the only use the Dark Dragon had for women was to appease his lust for rutting which was as ferocious as his lust for battle.

  The awful thought sent her stomach roiling and her heart pounding. How was she ever going to survive?

  “Did you try to negotiate with him, Da? Something—anything—that would benefit Heather?” Patience asked with concern.

  “There was nothing to negotiate. All the power was in his hands and when I realized that in the end he would have Heather one way or the other, I knew I had no choice. By agreeing to the marriage, it would avoid needless bloodshed and put us in good stead with the Dark Dragon, thus protecting everyone and suffering no casualties.”

  “Except Heather,” Emma said.

  Heather needed time to digest the startling news. A soothing brew would help as would a few moments alone to prepare, though how one prepared to meet the devil she did not know.

  “We must make ready for our guests,” Heather said, taking charge. “Food and drink will be needed and—” She was about to say a guest bedchamber prepared, but it would not be a guest bedchamber he would sleep in tonight. It would be hers. Her bedchamber no longer belonged to her alone. It belonged to her husband—the Dark Dragon.

  Her father sent her a look that had Heather realizing there was more unsettling news yet to be delivered.

  Her father was quick to tell her. “You will be leaving today with your husband.”

  His announcement brought utter silence.

  Tears sprang to Heather’s eyes. “I must prepare for my departure.” She hurried out of the room, Patience and Emma following close behind.

  Donald Macinnes dropped down on the bench afraid his legs would no longer hold him.

  Hunter hurried to fill a tankard with ale and handed it to him.

  Rogan laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “You did what was best for your family and clan.”

  “So I have told myself,” Donald said. “I only pray it is so.”

  ~~~

  Heather collapsed on her bed, tears streaming down her cheeks. She wanted to be alone to try and accept her fate. But when her sisters entered the room and flung themselves at her, hugging her tightly, she was glad they were there, especially since she would be bidding them farewell today.

  They stretched out on the bed side by side, Patience’s hand clinging tightly to one of Heather’s and Emma’s hand almost choking the other, as though neither of them intended to let go of her.

  “There must be something—”

  “Do not say it, Patience,” Heather begged. “The deed is done and I must face my fate and you two must help me.”

  Patience popped up and looked down at her two sisters. “How do I do that? How do I let such evil lay hands on my sister?”

  Heather eased her hand out of Patience’s hand to lay it on her rumbling stomach.

  Emma hopped off the bed. “Your stomach troubles you. I will fetch a soothing brew to calm it and you should try to eat a little something.”

  “The brew would help,” Heather agreed, laying her arm across her eyes.

  Emma nodded to Patience and she followed her to stand just outside the door.

  “She is upset enough, and rightfully so, do not upset her any further,” Emma ordered sternly.

  “How do we stop this travesty?” Patience asked tersely.

  “I do not think we can. As father said, it is done.”

  “And what if he treats her poorly or how do we even know if he does treat her poorly, what then?”

  “You are right. We cannot just let him take her away never to know what becomes of her,” Emma said, growing teary-eyed. She swiped at the unshed tears. “Ever since I have gotten with child, tears come much too easily.”

  “A woman’s tears usually turn men pliable, men that have hearts. It would be good to put the Dark Dragon to the test. At least then, we would have some idea of how he might treat our sister.”

  “And if it fails?” Emma asked.

  “Then we make another plan.”

  After forming a hasty plan, Patience returned to Heather. She was still lying on the bed, her arm draped over her eyes, and Patience did not want to disturb her. A bit of rest would do her good. Patience sat in the chair by the fire where she had often found her sister through the years, working on her embroidery. Her heart turned heavy to think she would never see her sitting there again and as she glanced around the room she could not imagine it stripped of all of Heather’s belongings, the room empty, and her sister gone from her life. The upsetting thought sent a shudder through her.

  The door suddenly burst open, sending Patience flying out her chair and Heather popping up off the bed.

  A breathless Emma stood, fighting to balance a wooden tray with a pitcher, tankard, and slices of bread and cheese on it. Her cheeks were flushed and she took a moment to catch her breath as Patience hurried to take the tray from her and place it on the small table near the hearth.

  With a deep breath, the words rushed from Emma’s lips. “The Dark Dragon sends word for you to be in the Great Hall to receive him. Father says to hurry, for the Dark Dragon is impatient to take his leave with his new wife.”

  “He does not want to take time to meet my family or rest and feed his men?” Heather asked. “And will he not give me time to pack my belongings?”

  “The Dark Dragon has informed Da that he will leave some of his men behind to collect whatever you instruct your servants to pack and be delivered to you. He also instructed that you are to bring whatever you need until then.”

  Heather stared at her sister in disbelief. “He intends to just whisk me away?”

  Tears clouded Emma’s eyes. “It would seem so.”

  Heather stood there not knowing what to do or perhaps knowing and not wanting to do what she must. She had woken this morning relieved to find herself in her own bed after the ordeal of her abduction, escape, and dangerous journey to return home. And now the man she had managed to avoid was here to take her away and to make matters worse, he had all the right to do so since he was now her husband.

  It was the terrified expressions on her sisters’ faces that finally got Heather moving. The longer she delayed this, the more she allowed her fear to show, the more difficult it would be for them, and seeing them suffer would hurt her terribly.

  She had two garments reserved for special occasions, one a red winter wool and the other a soft blue, linen shift with a pale yellow tunic draped over it, which she hurried to change into. She left her blonde hair pinned up, making certain the combs were secure. She had only bathed the night before, the rose-scented soap still lingering in her hair and on her skin.

  Patience had insisted that she and Emma always keep a small dirk in their boots since you never know when one might be needed and so she tucked hers in her boot. The last thing she did was slip a blue ribbon through the ring that was forever with her and tie it around her neck, then tuck it beneath her clothes to lie against her chest. The ring meant everything to her. It had been given to her by the man she loved and would always love. It had given her strength through the years when she thought she had had none left. And at the moment, she could use as much strength as she could get.

  She gathered up a few of her garments and items to tie securely in a plaid, knowing her sisters would see to the rest for her and without giving her bedchamber a second glance
, she hurriedly left the room, closing the door behind her and on the safe and loving life she had always known.

  ~~~

  The Great Hall had filled with Macinnes and MacClennan warriors. Rogan and Hunter wore their swords at their sides, their hands not far from the hilts. Patience had tucked two, unsheathed dirks, behind her leather girdle that held her sword to the right of her waist. She was prepared to draw a weapon quickly if necessary and that frightened Heather. She wanted no one dying here today because of her.

  Tears still lingered in Emma’s eyes, though she too had a dirk at her waist, though only one and it was sheathed. Her father was the only one who wore no weapons.

  With a tempered smile, her father stretched his hand out to Heather.

  A servant took the bundle with her few possessions from her with a nod and Heather noticed tears pooling in her eyes. Giving a glance about as she approached her father, she noticed most of the servants appeared ready to shed tears for her and her heart swelled with how much they cared for her.

  It made it that more difficult to leave her loving home and yet made it somewhat easier, knowing her sacrifice would save the lives of those who loved her. She held her chin high and kept her shoulders back and walked with false bravado when truly she was more frightened than she had ever been.

  She was certain her wobbling legs would betray her and give way or that the tremor she felt inside would suddenly break free and she would tremble all over with fear for everyone to see.

  Her father reached out when she drew near him and slipped a sturdy arm around her waist to rest her against him. She was never so grateful for his support and never prayed so hard for a miracle that would allow her to remain there beside him forever.

  The two large doors to the Great Hall opened and two Macinnes warriors entered and stood to the sides of each door. Other Macinnes warriors followed suit until twenty warriors formed two lines, ten on each side. Ghost warriors entered after that, not one wearing a weapon, and ten joined the two lines of Macinnes warriors, five at the end of each line.

  The room turned completely silent and breathes were held in anticipation of the Dark Dragon’s entrance.

  Darkness suddenly filled the doorway, spreading as the black draped figure stepped through.

  The Dark Dragon had arrived.

  Chapter Three

  Heather felt her legs give way and if it was not for her father’s firm hold around her waist, she would have collapsed as she watched the Dark Dragon—her husband—walk toward her.

  He was draped in black, from the black metal helmet that concealed all but his mouth, a portion of his jaw and his eyes, eyes that seemed as dark as his garments, all the way down to his black leather boots. He walked with such powerful strides that his black cloak bellowed out behind him or perhaps it was the pointed, stiff leather spikes that ran along his shoulders and down the upper arms of his leather tunic that kept the cloak a flight.

  He seemed to grow in size the closer he got and Heather’s fear grew with each step he took. It was no wonder he was called the Dark Dragon. He was a size taller than most men and broad with thick muscles that left no doubt as to his potent strength.

  Fear reached up from deep inside Heather and gripped at her stomach. He had to weigh eighteen or more stones where she barely weighed eight stones and her head reached only to his shoulder. There was no possible way for her to defend herself against this man. Her only way to survive this marriage was to submit to him and that thought terrified her.

  “Welcome to our home,” Donald Macinnes said with a respectful nod when the Dark Dragon came to a stop in front of him.

  “I came for what is mine. I will collect my wife and take my leave.” His strong voice added to the force of his commanding tone.

  “Drink and food first, to celebrate the uniting of our people,” Donald offered.

  “We leave now.” He stretched his black glove-covered hand out to Heather.

  She kept her hand tucked firmly against her stomach, knowing once she took his hand— she was his forever.

  Emma hurried to her sister’s side. “Please, share a drink with us. It will give us time to bid our sister farewell. We will miss her terribly.” Tears began to roll down her cheeks. “Please do not deprive us of a little more time with her.”

  Heather turned from her father to comfort her sister as she had done so many times throughout the years.

  The Dark Dragon glared at Emma. “Tears are wasted on me. Say your good-byes and be done with it.”

  Both women were stunned by his heartless words, and Emma sent a quick look to Patience. Their plan had worked. They now knew that the Dark Dragon had no soul. The only question was—how did they protect their sister against the heartless beast?

  Patience went to step forward, ready to try another plan she had given thought to and before she could speak the Dark Dragon’s powerful voice rang out.

  “See that your wife holds her tongue, Hunter, or I will see it cut from her mouth.”

  Patience’s green eyes blazed with fury and Hunter caught her firmly around the waist before she charged for the Dark Dragon.

  “Now is not the time,” he whispered as she struggled to free herself.

  Heather paled. Would he truly cut her sister’s tongue from her mouth? Could he be that monstrous?

  Donald Macinnes stepped forward. “I will know where you take my daughter, and my family and I will know the face of her husband before you leave here.”

  The Dark Dragon took a quick step forward and his voice turned to an angry growl. “You will make no demands of me, Macinnes.”

  Patience jabbed her husband so hard in the ribs that his arms fell away from her and she charged at the Dark Dragon, her dirk drawn when she stopped in front of him.

  “You will respect my father and his wishes or we can go to war now,” she shouted, shaking the dirk in his face.

  Hunter quickly stepped forward, his heart pounding in his chest, fearful of what the Dark Dragon would do before he could reach his impetuous wife and calm the situation. His heart slammed against his chest when in an instant the Dark Dragon’s hand snapped out, grabbed Patience’s wrist, spun her around, and slammed her back against his chest, forcing her dirk against her throat.

  Hunter stopped where he was and Rogan stepped up beside him, both men keeping their hands off the hilt of their swords, not wanting to make the dire situation worse.

  Heather never knew any fear when it came to defending and protecting her sisters and it was the same for her now. She stepped forward, her only thought to save her sister, and said, “You have won. I am your obedient wife. I will go with you willingly. I only ask that you do not mar this day that I take leave from my family with bloodshed. And I ask my husband if he would be so generous as to respect my father’s wishes and do as he asks so he does not needlessly worry about his daughter. I also beg your forgiveness for my sister’s impulsive actions.”

  Complete silence filled the Great Hall as breathes were held, waiting to see what the Dark Dragon would do. He did not make a move and there was not a flicker or hint in his dark, soulless eyes to her heartfelt words.

  Suddenly he swung Patience away from him, snatching her dirk from her hand as he did. Hunter quickly stepped forward to grab her and steady her and to hold her in a way she could not escape him again.

  The Dark Dragon threw the dirk, landing it in the wood floor close to Patience’s boot. “Turn it on me again and nothing will save you.”

  To Hunter’s relief Patience did not reach to retrieve it. His wife was wise enough to understand not only the foolishness of her rash actions, but what it had cost her sister.

  The Dark Dragon glared at Heather for a moment, and then once again silence filled the Great Hall as ever so slowly he raised his hands to his helmet.

  Heather held her breath and thought to close her eyes fearful of what she would see but too fearful to look away. A gasp caught in her throat when he fully removed his helmet while several gasps circled th
e room. Heather’s one and only thought was—only evil could be that stunningly handsome.

  His features were so strikingly defined that she was reminded of the painting her father had had done of her mum about a year before she died. The artist had captured her features to perfection and that too was true of the Dark Dragon. It was as if an artist had painted him to perfection, for all his lines and angles blended perfectly. He wore his dark hair severely drawn back and tethered at the nape of his neck and not one scar marred his sun-kissed skin.

  There was something in his captivating dark eyes that held Heather’s attention and would not let her look away. What it was, she could not say, but it nagged at her and refused to let go, and she silently reminded herself not to let evil rob her of her good senses.

  She should be relieved that he was not difficult to look upon, but she was not. She was upset, for at first glance she had felt a twinge of attraction and that had not pleased her at all.

  He kept his eyes on Heather for a moment as if with his helmet removed he could take the whole of her in, and she shivered at his close scrutiny.

  He turned his head abruptly away from her and looked to her father. “With the Clans McLaud and McDolan hungry for war, I will remain close. I have land, a small keep with a few crofts surrounding it. It is but an hour’s journey from here. I will settle with my wife there to help avert this brewing war.”

  “The small McCombs holdings belong to you now?” Donald asked.

  The Dark Dragon confirmed with a nod.

  “I am grateful you will remain nearby for the time being,” Donald said.

  “What choice do I have when the murdered body of Greer McLaud’s wife has been found on your land? Greer is sure to accuse you of killing her, giving him the excuse he has been looking for to start a war with the Clan Macinnes.”

  “This marriage will change many a clan’s mind of whose side they will fight on and hopefully prevent a war from starting and countless lives from being lost,” Donald said.