True Love Brides 02 - The Highlander’s Curse

by Claire Delacroix

  Orson smiled in anticipation and Annelise shivered. “What of Garrett? We have a hand fast…”

  “He will be dead before morning’s light,” Rowena snarled. “He deserves no less for killing my only daughter.”

  Annelise did not dare to point out that the daughter had been dispatched to kill Garrett. Rowena knew as much and clearly held that fact to be irrelevant.

  She exchanged a glance with Andrew, and that knight bowed before he left the hall. Annelise watched him go, fearing his intent for Garrett.

  Rowena smiled at Annelise and patted the seat beside herself. “I demand you release our fair guest, Sir Orson,” she murmured. “I would talk to the Lady Annelise.”

  “By all means.” Orson rose and bowed with grace.

  Annelise took the seat beside her hostess, her trepidation growing.

  Rowena put the pelt before Annelise. “This is my daughter, my Aurelia, my eldest and my beloved one.” Her eyes glinted. “Slaughtered by a barbarian and butchered.”

  “I thought it was Orson who killed this wolf,” Annelise said. “For this was what he told me.”

  Orson colored. “A tale, my lady. It was no more than a tale.” His gaze flicked to Rowena and Annelise knew he feared their hostess as well.

  Annelise put her fingertip on the pelt. “This wolf attacked me. This wolf would have ripped out my throat with ease. It nearly did as much, save for Garrett’s quick action.”

  Rowena’s eyes narrowed. “Do you suggest that my daughter deserved to die?”

  “I suggest that she was not so innocent as you would claim. Did you not send her to kill Garrett MacLachlan? Was it not a case of him killing her in my defense, and thus his own?”

  Rowena’s eyes flashed. She drew herself up taller than before, and it was clear that she had no affection for defiance.

  But before Rowena could speak or retaliate, the sound of a woman’s singing carried into the hall. Annelise turned to listen, for the woman’s voice was as clear as silver bells, so pure and beautiful that her song seemed unreal.

  Rowena gasped in recognition and Annelise guessed who the singer might be. She made to rise to her feet, fully expecting Orson to stop her. But he was immobile, his eyes staring wide as if he had been frozen in time. In fact, Annelise could not rise either.

  All she could do was watch and listen.

  She noticed that Percy was in the same state, as were all the other men and women in the hall. Only Rowena could move.

  Only she was Fae.

  Thunder cracked over the ocean and the wind whipped through the high windows. The glamour tore, just as Annelise had thought it might, and the finely dressed hall disappeared from view. Instead, the roof was broken open and the moss grew on the floor. There were weeds in the chinks and snakes in the corners. The fine damask tablecloth proved to be no more than a spider’s web and the musicians were mice with nutshells for hats. They all scattered as a lady appeared in the portal to Killairig’s hall. She wore a green silken dress, and her long hair was so blond as to be silver. She looked like a shaft of moonlight come to walk amongst them.

  Or a ghost.

  She wore the dress that Annelise had left for her. A spark of hope lit in Annelise’s heart and she wanted to cheer aloud.

  Rowena paled and took a step backward. “You cannot be here. You are dead!”

  The lady in green smiled.

  “Once upon a time,” she declared, “two Fae fell in love. He had the power to change shape and one who so favored the guise of a wolf that he was seldom seen in any other form. As a wolf, he was pure white in color, the color of fresh snow, and his eyes were as blue as the sky on a winter’s day. She was as dark as midnight, her skin of deepest ebony and her hair as black as a raven’s wing. Her eyes were as fathomless as the deepest lake and she could disappear into shadows at will. Their love ran deep and true, perhaps because together, they were complete.”

  “Not this tale!” Rowena cried, but the woman in green continued. The only sign that she had heard Rowena’s plea was that her voice hardened slightly. She walked across the hall with measured steps, drawing ever closer to the lady of Killairig.

  “In those days, men were cutting down forests, sowing crops and building homes. Both Fae and wolves were being driven from the wilderness they loved, and many of both kinds wished to retaliate against men. These two Fae had been amongst the first in these battles, until they met each other. After that, they found such joy in living and in each other’s company that they fled together, leaving all they knew behind.

  “Each day, he would run through the forest in his wolf form, over hill and dale, seeking a new place where no one had been before. The sunlight shone on his fur and he barked with the joy of being alive. Each night, she would dance wherever he had halted, darting in and out of the shadows as he watched. They slept entwined with each other and when they awakened, there were always new flowers growing in the places her feet had stepped. Each morning, the wolf sniffed the flowers—for he loved flowers as much as he loved to run—and then the Fae climbed on to his back, clung to his fur, and he ran again.”

  “Fools,” Rowena muttered. “Only fools love like that.”

  “They lived like this for more days than I can count, and they traveled far, finding joy in each other’s company and their lives. Then one day, they found a forest that was finer than any they had either known before. They chose to make it their home.

  “But the world did not remain the same, even though the Fae thought they had left its cares behind. One day a man came to their forest. He cut down trees and cleared away the brush. He trod down the flowers and he lit a large fire. The two Fae were dismayed, so they moved to another part of the forest. One night, the female Fae was dancing in a clearing, although with less joy than had once been the case, when she heard a howl of pain. She ran back to her partner, only to find him in his wolf form, fighting the man. The blood of the Fae wolf was on the man, on the blade of his knife and on the ground. The man was cutting out the heart of the wolf, even as it still beat.”

  Annelise saw Rowena grow still at this part of the tale.

  “Because these two were so close, their thoughts were as one,” said the woman in green. “The Fae could hear the thoughts of her lover, and she heard his final plea as he died. He begged her to flee and save herself, but to one day avenge his death. She fled, but not far, for she wanted to know more of this man. She watched as he roasted and ate the heart of her beloved. The Fae wept that he should be so abused and vowed that she would see him avenged. She danced no more, and the flowers in the forest faded away.”

  Rowena sat down heavily and braced her head on her hand. She looked utterly defeated, but Annelise was not fooled.

  The woman continued her tale. “She left that forest and wandered for a long time, lost in the clasp of her grief. One day, she realized that she was going to have a child. She gave birth to not one but two beautiful daughters, one as fair as moonlight and one as dark as midnight. Because these daughters carried the blood of a Fae who could become a wolf, their mother knew that they would both be able to shift shape when they grew up. They would be able to become wolves by choice.

  “Now the Fae gather blessings for their newly born children, for there are many Fae talents and not all Fae possess all gifts. When a Fae godmother came to bless the babies, the mother asked for her daughters to be given the power to hear the thoughts of mortals, both men and beasts. Neither she nor her lover had possessed this Fae gift, and she believed it would ensure that her daughters would have warning of the intentions of men, and would not share the fate of their father. The godmother agreed and granted that wish.

  “So, the two daughters grew up beneath their mother’s care. Florine was a young woman with long silver hair and eyes of deepest blue. She could run like the wind, and she could become a white wolf. Rowena, in contrast, was a young woman with ebony hair and dark eyes. She could become a large black wolf, one as dark as midnight. The daughters were different in an
other way than their coloring: Florine was determined to do her best in every circumstance, while Rowena pleased only herself and had no scruples.”

  Florine took another step closer to Rowena. “And so it was that their Fae mother died when they were young women. On her deathbed, the mother begged her daughters to finish what she had not done and avenge the death of her lover and their father. After her demise, the daughters argued bitterly about how this should be best achieved. They parted with ill feelings, and each went her own way.

  “Florine went to the Fae who were her kindred and asked to be taught all that they knew. She learned how to more clearly hear the thoughts of men and of animals, how to ensure that she was not overwhelmed by their voices. She learned to sing so melodiously that all who heard her voice were enchanted and could only listen. She learned to fight, as well, how to strike fear by the ferocity of her strikes, how to kill a mortal man without a steel blade, how to make the earth shake with her anger. She learned the value of a sworn pledge and the honor of keeping one’s word. When she had learned all of this and more, Florine pursued the quest granted to her by her mother.

  “A great deal of knowledge takes a long time to learn, so by the time Florine returned to the forest where the wolf had been killed, many centuries had passed. She used her powers and listened to the thoughts of the people who lived there and learned the tale they told of the valor of Ruardaidh, their founder and forebear. She heard how he had eaten the heart of a white wolf and knew she had found the right place. The Laird of Killairig at that time had a son, as fine and handsome as a man could be. His name was Coinneach, the sole son of his father and much adored by his parents. Florine decided that Coinneach would be the one to bear the price of her vengeance.”

  “And you did well with that, did you not?” Rowena sneered.

  Florine straightened but continued with her tale. “Coinneach was a fine man, one well wrought and noble of nature. And this was the problem, for the longer Florine watched him and listened to his thoughts, the more she fell in love with him. He was a man of valor and honor, one who kept his word and dealt honorably with his fellows. He was as handsome as a Fae warrior and could dance and sing himself. Florine could not bring herself to kill him, even when he hunted alone in the forest. And so it was that one day in the forest, Florine revealed herself to Coinneach because she could do naught else. She sang to him, enchanting him with her song. Though she had sought him out on a quest for vengeance, she hoped she could make him love her for herself.

  “Coinneach fell in love with the beauteous maiden with the flowing silver hair and eyes of clearest blue. When he married her, they were so happy that Florine hoped that love could triumph over the past. She hoped as much until a wolf arrived in the forest, a wolf as black as midnight. She knew then that her sister meant to steal her happiness away.”

  “You did not love him!” Rowena cried. “You enchanted him! He did not know what you were, and despised you once he did.”

  “And what of Aurelia’s father?” Florine asked quietly. “Did he not cast you out because of what you were?”

  “At least I learned something from that,” Rowena retorted. “At least my son will have a chance at happiness.”

  Where was Andrew? Annelise saw Rowena scan the hall, as if she, too, wondered at her son’s absence. Annelise could only hope that Florine had enchanted him, as well.

  “If only at the expense of others,” Florine said.

  Rowena’s eyes flashed and thunder rumbled. “If you have injured him, I will see that you pay.”

  Florine smiled, then carried on. “Florine remained in her chambers in the keep, fearful of Rowena’s intent. She heard of the new healer come to Coinneach’s hall, and she heard Coinneach’s praise for the woman’s skills. She heard his admiration for the healer’s young daughter. She heard infatuation in his tone, but her sister’s spell was so strong that she could not undermine it. Those whose hearts are filled with darkness can create a curse of fearsome power, and so this was. Coinneach became angry with Florine over small things, and she recognized her sister’s influence. Still, she could not do injury to her beloved for she knew him to be enchanted.”

  “Fool,” Rowena sneered. “You must use every advantage when you can.”

  Florine ignored this and continued her tale. “When Florine learned that she would have Coinneach’s child, she dared to hope that all would be well. To her dismay, Rowena was assigned by Coinneach to act as midwife, and the pair battled over the fate of the child. Rowena would have pushed the babe back into the womb until it suffocated, while Florine wanted her child safe from all harm. The boy was stronger than either anticipated, though, and finally, he came into the world with a shout fit to shake the rafters. His hair was near as fair as that of his mother and his eyes were the blue of a winter sky. Florine believed all could come right, for her son had survived and Coinneach had wanted a son above all else.

  “But Coinneach was not pleased with his son, and here again, she heard the influence of Rowena. He declared that he had wanted his son to resemble him, to be dark of hair and green of eye, to be rugged and hale and strong. He felt the boy was weak and would die young, an unfitting heir for his lineage.”

  Rowena smiled darkly at this, even as Annelise watched and feared this tale could have no good ending.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Garrett was aware that the men guarding the dungeons had been beguiled by Florine’s voice. He felt them slide into a stillness that was unnatural, their thoughts spinning as they tried to make sense of their state.

  This was his chance.

  Unfortunately, Stewart too was enchanted and could not be of aid to him as yet.

  “I will leave the portal unlocked,” he whispered to Stewart, as he took the key from that man’s hiding place. “Move with speed when the spell is broken.” He waited for the warrior’s acknowledging thought, then turned the key in the lock. He walked past his guards, hearing their shock and dismay. He removed their weapons and put two in the dungeon with Stewart, taking the rest.

  The true challenge lay before him, though, from those Fae who were not enchanted.

  And he did not know how many of them were in Killairig’s hall.

  *

  Andrew leapt up the stairs to the highest room in the tower, taking them three at a time. He did not doubt that his mother would be judged for what she had done. It was possible that he could be of assistance to her in this moment, but he did not care.

  He would ensure his own advantage first.

  Andrew’s concern was the realm of mortal men. Garrett MacLachlan was in Killairig’s dungeons. He did not expect his mother to lose any contest, for it was in her nature to win at all costs. She would not release Garrett again. Even if she lost the battle, she would take down Killairig with her, and Garrett would not leave this abode soon.

  Andrew needed to seize this opportunity to secure his future in the realm of mortal men. Perhaps his mother was deliberately creating a chance for him.

  Perhaps she might have wished for his assistance. He might have cared more, if his mother had not cheated him of his due before he had been able even to speak a word.

  Rowena was the one who had insisted Andrew have no Fae gifts save his longevity, good looks and melodious voice. She was the one who had crippled his chances for success by choosing that he should be as much like a mortal man as possible.

  She had given him little and he owed her less.

  At least she had taught him to seize every advantage. While Garrett was imprisoned, the people in Killairig were enchanted and his mother was distracted, Andrew would appeal to a higher authority, at least among mortal men. He would take the seal and signet to the king in Edinburgh. He would make his claim for Killairig, and be invested by the king himself.

  And woe to Garrett MacLachlan if he still survived in the dungeon when Andrew returned as Laird of Killairig.

  *

  Florine walked back and forth in the great hall, her words as musi
cal when she spoke as when she sang. Annelise was transfixed, as were all the others.

  “Florine heard her husband’s lustful thoughts about Rowena and was dismayed when Coinneach took her as a lover. He came no more to Florine’s bed and never spoke to her, his love for her apparently forgotten. When Rowena conceived, Florine was filled with anger and a need to see justice done. She had not avenged her father because of her love for Coinneach, but her husband had betrayed her. She had never yet taken the form of a wolf in Coinneach’s abode, but she would do it to keep her promise to her mother.

  “But Rowena knew Florine’s nature and thus guessed her intent. She was determined to have Coinneach herself, mostly so her sister’s marriage could be destroyed. She told Coinneach that Florine meant to steal his son and his coin, that she was taking his treasure to a neighboring laird who would attack and defeat him. She convinced Coinneach that Florine was determined to destroy him, and he believed her.

  “When Florine ran away one night, Rowena awakened Coinneach and led him in pursuit of his wife. He brought his sword and his knife, along with his fury. But Florine stopped abruptly, set her son on the ground and raised her hands to the moon. Coinneach was shocked to see his wife become a white wolf.

  “Rowena did not miss her opportunity. She cried that Florine was a witch, then seized Florine’s clothes and burned them. She knew Florine would not be able to change back to her human form without her clothes. The white wolf howled as if in pain, then with its jaws, snatched the cloth that swaddled the child and fled into the forest.

  “When Coinneach would have pursued the wolf, a foul wind rose. It lashed the trees and stripped their leaves. The hail fell with equal ferocity, pounding down upon the pair without mercy. When the storm halted, there was no sign of the wolf or the boy. No one ever found them, although Rowena tried.

  “In truth, the Fae had intervened. Florine’s son was taken into their care, while Florine remained a white wolf running free in the forest. A glamour was cast to defend Florine’s son from his aunt and he was given to a Fae who chose a mortal life to raise him to the best of her abilities.