Defending Destiny (The Warrior Chronicles) (29 page)

Rowan deflected Magnus’ strike to the side of his neck, which Magnus made at a downward angle that would have slit the man diagonally from neck to hip had he not blocked it. Rowan quickly backed away before Magnus could strike again.

“Enough, man,” Rowan said, holding up his free hand as he lowered his sword to the grass. “She knows you love her, so you can stop worrying about that. You can’t control what’s about to happen. She’s got to fight this battle. You can’t do it for her.”

Magnus stepped away and caught his breath. He hadn’t realized just how tired he was until that moment. He hadn’t been sleeping well, and when he did sleep his dreams were filled with uncertainty, anxiety, and dread.

“Aye, she has to fight. But she doesn’t have to fight alone. With you and me at her back, she’ll be stronger.”

Rowan looked at him with something approximating compassion. Magnus collapsed onto one of the many garden benches under the weight of that look. He needed a friend and he’d had enough of the sword for one day. Rowan’s understanding meant more to him than he could articulate, so Magnus didn’t try. Rowan understood. Someday perhaps, Magnus would be there for him in much the same way.

Magnus wanted to hold Daisy close and feel her heart beating against his. He wanted to make love, not war. He’d spent the last nights in ritual prayer with Merry trying to manifest peace. They both had been shown blood would spill first. Justice required rectitude. Daisy’s sword, Gleipnir, was that rectitude. Gleipnir would shed blood before peace came to the Damselfly Society.

Rowan sat beside him, respecting his grim contemplation before speaking. “I’ll take her to the circle tonight. We’ll train there.”

“Tomorrow is the full moon,” Magnus said in way of reply.
A time of increasing power.

“That’s why it has to be tonight. The only night more powerful for making magic is tomorrow. Tomorrow, my friend, you take her there and seal your vows. Tomorrow, come together skyclad under the moon.” Rowan clapped him on the shoulder. “Make your magic, Druid.” He grinned. “I trust the task won’t be too difficult for you.”

Magnus smiled in return. Making love to Daisy under the full moon wouldn’t be difficult at all, at least not for him. He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. The difficulty would be in getting her there. Keeping her there would be simple if she let him kiss her the way that seemed to make everything from her neck down turn to molten chocolate.
If
he could do that, he would make sure she felt the love he had for her flow from him, into her, around her, filling her life with passion, grace and a sensual awareness that made every step upon the earth a prayer of thanksgiving.

…

Merlin smiled from the trees. His proteges understood the cycles of the moon and how to use them to magnify their power. They also understood that blood and sacrifice were the flipside of peace and love.

Merlin was pleased both men knew that love, in all its forms, was the stronger magic.

It was love, before all, that made the world go round and resonate with song.

CHAPTER FORTY

Merry Peacock looked over at her husband’s head where it rested on his pillow, one arm thrown over the top. Laird MacBain was a sprawling kind of sleeper, as open in sleep as he was closed in the light of day. She ran the tip of one finger from the side of his neck down his throat to his chest, where he had the brand of those who venerated the Goddess seared into his skin. Lauren’s sept, and all those who wore the brand, swore to keep those secrets that needed keeping, while sharing the knowledge of the ancients that needed sharing.

Lauren MacBain erred on the side of sharing. That was just one of the reasons that Merry opened her heart to him. The attraction had been immediate, but she was old enough to act on attraction only when it suited her. Attraction was a fine thing, but it didn’t make a life.

Sharing a purpose, a philosophy of a life well lived, a
spirit
—well, now, that was a good start on the road to long-term. Sprinkle that with attraction, the bone-deep sensuality they sometimes shared slowly, and sometimes with the explosive intensity she thought lost with the end of youth, and that was enough for her to think about Happily Ever After.

Merry traced the unblemished skin around his brand and Lauren groaned in his sleep. She smiled and was pleased with herself—and with him—for taking a chance at building a life together. Truth be told, it wasn’t much of a chance for her. Not only was she certain that Lauren was the one who made her soul sing, Merlin had shown her it was so before they met.

Merry knew of Lauren MacBain, his contributions to keeping Celtic culture alive, as well as his status as US Ceannard of the Scottish Damselfly Society, second in influence only to the Arm-Righ himself. Merry dropped her hand, not wanting to wake Lauren just yet. Thoughts of the Arm-Righ always dampened her natural optimism. James Duncan, Earl of Dreich, High King of the Society, needed his balls cut off.

Since she was supposed to be peaceful, a mediator of the highest order between the Society, the Silent Ones and the members of her order, she didn’t focus on the thought. To do so could help manifest that course of events, and as much as the thought held merit in theory, seeing it manifest in reality held no appeal whatsoever. No, the King deserved a lot, but no man deserved that particular means of torture.

Merry didn’t want the man hurt, she wanted him and his deplorable Second, Kolin Damnet, gone.

Replaced by Lauren with Daisy as his Second.

She’d done her part to make that happen. Marrying Lauren had never been part of that plan. She’d done that because she loved him and wanted to spend the rest of her life with him at her side. Still, the fact was her marriage to Lauren
did
help him on his path to becoming King. She knew it. So did he. Whatever his reasons for marrying her were, his awareness of her status had to have been among them. How could it not be? He was stronger with her than without her, something the current King was too arrogant to recognize.

Merry Peacock was the head of her order. The big cheese, as it were.
The Druidess—
although Druid was the correct term for both female and male Druids; Druidess being an eighteenth-century Oxford English Dictionary invention.
The Witch. The Seer.
She had more titles, as her order was a mixture of ancient Druidism melded with modern Scottish Paganism, which included something approaching Wicca. She’d also been born with Highlander’s gift of Second Sight. She knew things. She made things happen. She worked with the energy of the natural world both receptively and actively. She worked magic.

Practitioners of the craft engendered fear in those who sought to control them and their power.

Merry should have been seated at the right hand of the Arm-Righ, as a trusted advisor. She wasn’t because James Duncan treated her with contempt for her views. She believed that collecting artifacts solely for the personal gain of the King, and strengthening the Societies coffers, was ultimately harmful to the mission of spreading knowledge and understanding. She believed in breeding abundance for all instead of greed for greed’s sake. Unchecked power never lasts, it’s just a question of how much harm it does before it falls.

The Arm-Righ didn’t want Merry’s advice. He didn’t want her moral or—more to the point—ethical and holistic approach to using the resources the Finders brought to the Council. He didn’t want an Ovate who studied natural philosophy advising him either. So Merry sent one of her emissaries to Court in her stead. James Duncan had to have a member of Merry’s order at his side for every meeting of the High Council. The Council’s laws demanded it. He was also required to consult with one who represented her Druidic Order, which he did, if unenthusiastically.

This King was a law unto himself. And not in a good way. Lauren MacBain, with her help, was the best person to bring the Court and Council back to their purpose. They needed to get closer to Lord and Lady, God and Goddess, nature and fellow man.

The back of Lauren’s hand caressed her inner arm and drew Merry’s attention as goosebumps appeared on her skin. His touch was light, soft and so engaging she always wanted to be naked with him. Lauren made her feel beautiful, desirable with every touch and every smoldering glance he sent her way.

He wasn’t smoldering now—he was concerned, judging by his downturned lips and furrowed brow. Merry gave him a small smile. Her husband was beginning to read her as easily as she was able to embed a thought or an intention in his mind. She shivered. She could blame her reaction on the cool morning breeze flowing through the open bedroom window, or she could acknowledge the truth. Lauren scared her as much as he thrilled her.

The fear came from the unknown. She’d had many lovers over her half-century of this lifetime. Some long-term. Some no more than a wonderful interlude. She’d enjoyed them all. With Lauren it was different. Merry wanted to take her last breath in his arms. She’d never thought in terms of
forever
before. Looking into his soulful eyes, she felt her own fill with tears.

His hand stopped stroking her and he gripped her wrist lightly. “Second thoughts, love?” he asked.

Merry closed her eyes.
No. Never.
“Not about this. Not about us. I love you, Lauren. I always will. I have no regrets, husband.”

Lauren seemed to like hearing her call him that. He loosened his grip before he rubbed her again, this time farther up her arm, then all the way to her palm. Merry stretched and tried to grant him as much access as he wanted. If she’d been a cat, she would have purred. She did make an
umm
sound in the back of her throat. When she opened her eyes after a long, luxuriating blink, he was hard and ready for her, but he was in no hurry. He seemed content just touching her.

“What’s wrong? You look like someone stole the stars from the sky.”

Lauren had a way of getting to the heart of the matter. If she lost him, if the Council continued its downward slide to the point of actually harming innocents for their gain, then it would be as if the stars had been stolen from the sky.

“I’m worried about losing you. As much as I should be worried about Court and Council and their steady and sure slide away from the Goddess, to my shame, it’s fear that they’ll find a way to kill you and Daisy that squeezes my heart and burns through me like liquid mercury, slowly poisoning me.” A single tear escaped her eye.

Lauren wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. Bringing her tears to his lips, he licked it away. “You are a woman of peace and nurturing. You strengthen mind and heart, body, and spirit with your knowledge. You bless. You don’t curse,” he smiled as he brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it gently, like a courtly knight of old. “Even when you want to, you don’t send out hurtful energy. You, Merry Peacock MacBain, are one of life’s rarities, a truly good person. You’re not going to lose me, because I’m never going to let you go. Not in this lifetime, or the next, or the one after that.”

Lauren pulled her down then rolled on top of her. His golden sherry gaze lit with a sensual haze the made Merry’s insides hum. “I, on the other hand, am a man of this world. I am peaceful when it suits.” His eyes flashed with what she knew he believed of himself.

“When it doesn’t, I can make war with the best of them. James Duncan is by no means the best of anything. He’s brash and rash and, as of late, he’s grown increasingly careless. Trust me, love. I will survive James and Kolin. So will Daisy. Each of us may come out a little worse for the wear, but we’ll still be standing. Each of us will do what’s necessary to see it’s so. Daisy’s like me. We each have a dark side to draw from. Daisy’s is not so dark that her default isn’t good. It is. But the King underestimates her at his peril. She’s stronger than she looks. If she wasn’t I never would have named her as my Second.”

Lauren brushed her hair from her face as he settled himself more firmly between her thighs. A look of pride flashed across his face before that sensuality was back in full force. “Daisy
will
be Arm-Righ one day. The only way for that to happen is for me to be King first.” He kissed her softly before looking into her eyes again, a resignation and sadness settled there making her heart ache for him. “I am not a good person, Merry, but with you by my side, I will become one. I will be a good King. You will help me by giving your honest, caring counsel, and when my reign is done, Daisy will be great. The Court and Council deserves greatness. It’s well past time for the Arm-Righ’s lust for power to be a dark blip in the history of the Society.”

Merry knew that Lauren wouldn’t respond to anything she said about him already being a good person. He’d brush off her belief that he would make a great King and if Daisy worked very hard learning the ins and outs of Council politics, she could in time raise to Lauren’s level. Daisy
would
be great. Merry had seen it. But so would Lauren. There were some things you just couldn’t tell a man. Some things had to be shown.

Still, Merry couldn’t help herself. She needed to say the words. Cupping his face with more force than the seduction merited, Merry didn’t let Lauren look away. “Understand this, laird. You are now, and have always been, a good man.” When he tried to speak, Merry shook his head. “Do not interrupt me, MacBain.”