A Witch's Tale (22 page)

No
wonder they left the village of Strathmore the year before in the middle of the
night. It was this woman who sent Minerva running then, explaining nothing
except they had to go. Minerva even made sure Madeline was never around when
Lady Strathmore came to her, fearful the woman would know she had her gift too.

“I
can do this thing for you, but we both know that is not all you want,” Madeline
said and saw the lady smile tightly.

“You
remind me of your grandmother now,” she allowed and nodded. “You are quite
right, besides Samuel’s heir; I also wish to remarry at some point after I’m
widowed. I need your help with that. Only a spell would bring Gavin to the
altar with me.”

Madeline
gaped at her. “You wish to marry Gavin when your husband is dead?”

“But
of course, and we will control Strathmore through the child,” she said gaily
and chuckled at her stunned expression. “He will be disgraced and penniless,
lucky to have such an offer from a wealthy widow.”

“And
for that you will allow me to go free?”

Lady
Blythe smiled at her condescendingly. “We both know one such as you presents
certain advantages for me. For my continued silence; you will be allowed to
live, Madeline. I will very much require your power to attain all I desire.
Call it a means of survival for you. I will even look the other way should you
wish to stay in Gavin’s bed as long as you give me what I want.”

Madeline
was sickened and knew the lady meant every word she said. It was obvious she
made such threats to Minerva, precipitating them running. Her grandmother never
told her the cause of their hasty departure. The recent visit from the baron
and Hugh informed Lady Blythe of who Madeline was.

“My
cousin meant to do the deed the day they disappeared,” she went on and gazed at
her nails in disinterest. “Do you recall where they might have gone?”

“After
I reversed the spell on Hugh, he mentioned stopping off in the city to see if
it worked before they returned,” Madeline lied. “They didn’t trust me.”

“I
can only surmise the pair of them to be holed up in a brothel somewhere
enjoying my gold,” the lady said cuttingly and fumed. “No matter, before they
attend my errand you will aid me in this. I think you will come with me
willingly now, will you not?”

Madeline
had no intention of going anywhere with this evil creature. She hardly
stammered as she repeated the words, her eyes glowing and narrowed. Lady
Blythe’s clothing fell to the chair and a fluffy white Himalayan cat sat in her
place, its large yellow green eyes narrowed into slits, purring despite its
obvious agitation.

Madeline
knew she had no time to waste. She had to get to the barn and stop Strathmore’s
hirelings from injuring Goldwyn. She glared at Lady Strathmore as she commenced
to clean herself. Gerwin entered the tent then. The randy tomcat sniffed and
growled low, eyeing the lounging feline with interest. She got rid of Lady
Strathmore’s clothing, stuffing it into a chest.

She
didn’t have long to wait for Alastair. The man arrived and looked nervous, coming
from the tournament to inform her Gavin and Rohan were the last two to joust.
She brought him up to speed on all that Lady Strathmore told her.

“We
must hurry to the tiltyards,” he said as he grabbed her arm and hurried her along
with him. “We haven’t much time to stop this.”

“I
have to tell you what I’ve done!” she cried as she pulled back her arm. “I
turned Lady Strathmore into a cat.”

“Oh
that was done without your hand,” Alastair said with a rueful grin. “Come, we
must put a stop to this.”

“No,
she is really a cat!”

“I
do not argue it, come now,” he said and hurried her along. “We can stop this
and be assured of a clean match today. Strathmore will have nothing on either
man. The rest is up to Gavin and Rohan.”

She
could see he didn’t believe her as they hurried to stop Strathmore’s hireling
from doing injury to the horse. When they arrived at the barn, Alastair removed
the sword at his hip and eyed her intently.

“Did
the lady say who would do the deed?”

“No,
she didn’t. Only that her husband’s servant would witness it when it was done.”

“Then
it stands to reason the man is also the culprit,” he said and entered the barn
with her on his heels. They found Goldwyn munching hay and alone. No one was
about.

Alastair
inspected all four of his hooves and was relieved the horse was yet unharmed.
They reasoned to wait for the man, hiding in the stall next to Goldwyn.

“You
don’t believe I’m really a witch, do you?” she asked under her breath and eyed
him balefully as they waited within the stall.

Alastair
regarded her with patience. “If you’re a bloody witch; I’m a damned priest,
Madeline. Now enough of this; it is enough you found out the man’s game in
time.”

They
were both silenced when the barn door opened. Alastair peered over the stall
door and held his finger to his lips to signal they had their man. Madeline
heard Goldwyn’s stall open and Alastair flew into action. He was on the man
before he could use the steel wedge to split the horse’s hoof. He held the
sword to the man’s throat and smiled grimly at him.

“You
will hurt no animal today,” he informed the struggling man.

Madeline
had other ideas for the groom, whispering the words that left his clothes
hanging in Alastair’s hands. He looked dumbfounded to see the snake slithering about
his boots then.

Madeline
met his startled dark eyes with a knowing smile. “Do you believe me now?”

“You
really are a witch!” Alastair nearly shouted as he dropped the man’s clothes
and jumped away from the snake, regarding her with fear now. “Are you going to
turn me into a toad?”

“Oh
for pity’s sake, Alastair!” she cried in frustration. “I’m not going to turn
you into a toad!”

“You
really turned Lady Strathmore into a cat?” he asked in interest and shook his
head in disbelief.

“It
was either that, or let her to do what she meant to do.”

“How
long does the spell last?”

“The
baron and his son have both been rats for over a week,” she said weakly and his
eyes bugged out of his head to know the identities of her pets. “I don’t know
if it wears off. I haven’t a clue how to undo it.”

“Given
what they meant to do, let us hope your spell holds,” he said and eyed the
snake in disbelief. Before he could bend down and grab the slithering creature,
Goldwyn brought his hoof down on it, splattering it upon the stable planks. “So
much for Strathmore’s groom. The man is now mush.”

Madeline
looked sick as he picked up the dead snake and tossed it into a nearby barrel.
She felt dizziness and grabbed the stall door for support.

“I
will stay here and guard the animal until the match,” he told her and eyed her
in a shaken manner. “You go find the others and take your seat.”

Madeline
could see Alastair was still reeling with her show of her power. She thought the
man would faint as well as he ran a weak hand through his dark hair. She left
him and went to the stands. She saw Gaston and the others and was about to join
them when a heavy hand landed upon her arm.

She
looked up at Rohan and nearly cursed to see the light of infatuation in his
gaze. He smiled in a dazzling manner down at her. She shook off his hold, aware
they were observed by Gavin’s men.

“Another
sweet kiss for luck, Madeline?” he asked teasingly and she swatted at him. “Now
that is no way to show your champion your affections,” he admonished with a
chuckle.

“You
have none of my affections, Sir Knight,” she snapped and tried to step past him
but he cut her off.

“I
was not mistaken in what I felt in the barn, Madeline,” he said smugly as she
tried in vain to get around him. “You try to deny it, but we both know you
wanted me as much as I did you.”

“You
conceited knave!” she cried in outrage as she looked up at him. “I wanted no
such thing! Allow me to pass!”

“Afraid
your lover will see you prefer another?” Rohan taunted as he gestured down the
field. She looked to see Gavin watching them and scowled back up at the knight.

“What
you imagine I felt that day clouds your mind, Sir Rohan. It is Gavin whom I
love!” she said and glared as he chuckled at her words.

“I
make you an offer to leave with me if I lose, Madeline,” he surprised her by
asking. “I think we both know de Mortaine has nothing to offer you should he
win.”

“How
quickly you talk of losing, Sir Rohan,” she jeered and saw his flush of anger
at her words. “Do you mean to follow through with what Strathmore asked of you
then?”

Rohan
looked like he would have throttled her at that moment. She could see he hadn’t
considered Strathmore’s offer. From what little she knew of him, losing was not
a part of his nature.

“I
have no stomach for winning this way, or being owned by a damned Englishmen,”
he snapped, his black eyes fierce with anger. “Do not act so surprised at my
offer, Mad. We both know you’re hardly immune to me. ”

“I
leave on my own when this tournament is over, Sir Rohan. I cannot accept such
an offer. We both know you will grow tired of me and cast me aside,” she said
venomously. “I think I can do better on my own.”

“You
mistook my words, Madeline. That is not what I offer you,” he argued and looked
incensed.

 She
wasn’t listening. She saw Gavin raise his visor and groaned in dismay. He got
off his horse and shortened the distance to where they stood, moving in between
her and Rohan, his green eyes filled with possessive jealousy.

“The
woman is mine, Rohan!” Gavin snarled and pushed him away from her, drawing
grumbles and cheers from the crowd. Many craned their necks to see the
commotion.

“Is
she yours?” Rohan asked and raised an eyebrow. “Are you so certain of it, de
Mortaine?”

“Stay
away from her, Rohan,” Gavin said coldly. “I’m not one to split hairs over a
woman, but for this one I would split your skull over. Does that satisfy you?”

Rohan
smiled tauntingly down at Madeline. She worried he would tell Gavin of what
happened in the barn. Before he could say anything, they were surrounded by the
king’s guardsmen and several courtiers.

James
Stuart approached and walked unsteadily upon a cane, eyeing the pair in
amusement. His dark eyes slid over Rohan and Gavin and twinkled in obvious
delight. Madeline dropped into a curtsey with her head bowed, peeking up to see
the king shake his head at both men.

“What
is this? My best knights fight over a woman? A piece of my kingdom is not
enough for you both?” he boomed and his entourage laughed and tittered in
amusement. Strathmore joined them and gazed at the king apologetically, glaring
back at Rohan.

“I
can apologize for the both of them, Majesty,” the man said and eyed Rohan
warningly. “The men allow the excitement of the day to go to their heads.”

James
Stuart held out his hand and raised Madeline to her feet, looking her over as
one would a horse. She was too in awe of the regally dressed monarch to do more
than gape at him.

“Or
they both appear to have designs on this fair creature,” the king countered and
his followers all laughed at his words.

“Your
Grace, the woman accompanied me to the tournament,” Gavin informed the king
tightly. “She is under my protection.”

“And
who might you be, my dear?” the king said and ignored him and smiled down at her.
“Don’t be shy. You have two of the finest knights in the realm fighting over
you. Speak up now.”

“My
name is Madeline, Your Grace,” she murmured and was too tongue tied to say
more.

“I
think we might have found the means to make the match more interesting, Lord
Strathmore,” James Stuart said loudly enough for all to hear him. “I declare
Mistress Madeline the second tournament lady. That should prove to encourage
both men to give us a rousing fight, don’t you think? It will make the joust
more interesting.”

Strathmore
looked sick, seeing his goals evaporate at his king’s words. “But Your Grace,
my daughter Lucinda stands as the tournament lady offered. It would be most
embarrassing for her.”

“It
hasn’t even been announced,” the king scoffed and shrugged. “Besides, I should
have the right to declare the prize, not you, Strathmore. We need two ladies
for our two Knights. I see it as an exciting motivator, Lord Strathmore.”

“She
is not even a noble lady!” Strathmore said in outrage.

“Who
were your parents, my dear?” the king asked Madeline gently.

“My
mother was Alessandra Farrand; my father the Viscount of Lunley,” she replied
dutifully and the king smiled in pleasure.

“There
you see; she has enough noble blood to appease me,” the king quipped and his
people laughed. “Mistress Farrand will sit with me during the tournament, and
to the victor goes all else, and the lady of my choice. The winner will not
know which lady he will get and it will make it all the more exciting.”