Moon Shadows (29 page)

“I'll ask for no promises, Royce. All I ask is this night. And you. Only you, my brave warrior . . .”

He cut off her words with a savage kiss that seemed to go on and on until they were both breathless. When at last he lifted his head, it was to run hot wet kisses over her eyes, her cheeks, the corner of her mouth.

His kiss softened as he lingered over her lips, and she realized he was drinking her in, as he might drink honeyed wine for the first time.

“I've long wondered how you would taste.” He kissed her again, and yet again, as though unable to get enough. “And now at last I'm free to drink your nectar.”

“You taste . . .” She smiled shyly. “Dark and dangerous.”

He held her a little away, to see her eyes. “Do I frighten you, Alana?”

“Frighten? Nay. But you intrigue me, Royce. There is so much about you I have yet to learn.”

“We'll learn together.” He lowered his head and ran hot, nibbling kisses along her jaw, then lower to her throat, and heard her sigh of pleasure. “But for now, I just need to taste you. To hold you. To see you.” His voice deepened. “All of you.”

She lifted her hands to the fasteners of her gown and saw his eyes darken as she slipped it from her shoulders and let it drop to the grass, where it pooled at her feet.

When she reached for the ties that secured her chemise, he closed his hands over hers. “Let me, Alana.”

He drew the sheer fabric apart and slid it down her arms. His gaze moved over her, and when at last he spoke, it was with a sense of reverence. “You are so lovely, Alana. So much more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.”

“I never thought about the way I look. But now I want to be beautiful. For you, Royce. Only for you.”

He dragged her close and covered her mouth in a kiss so hungry, she thought he would surely devour her. She returned it with a hunger that matched his, wanting desperately to show
him all the things she was feeling. As their kiss spun on and on, she felt the ground shift and move, and wondered that they were still standing.

She needed to see him as he was seeing her. To feel the warmth of his skin on hers. She tugged the fur tunic free, before running her hands across his chest, then lower, to the flat planes of his stomach.

With a sigh of impatience he tore aside the last of his clothes and dragged her to the ground. Now, at last, they were flesh to flesh, heartbeat to frantic heartbeat.

As they lay in the grass and moved together, mouths mating, sighs whispering on the night air, their flesh heated and grew slick with sweat. Their heartbeats thundered with all the force of an approaching army.

Alana could feel the need vibrating through him as he struggled to hold himself back.

“Take me, Royce.”

Still he held back, and she knew he feared hurting her.

Wrapping herself around him, she arched her body and drew him in. For a moment he went perfectly still. Then, knowing he'd reached the end of his control, he gave in and began to move with her, to climb with her.

He plunged his hands into the fiery tangles and drew her head back, staring deeply into her eyes. What he saw there speared straight to his heart.

“You're mine, Alana. My woman.”

“Aye. And you're my man. I believe we were born for one another. And for this. Only this.”

With his eyes steady on hers they climbed together to the very top of a high, sheer cliff. For the space of a heartbeat they stood poised on the edge.

It seemed, in that instant, that the heavens opened up, sending lightning bolts streaking across the sky, and thunder rumbling with such force, the earth shook.

With hearts pounding, lungs straining, they stepped into the very center of the storm and were tossed into the maelstrom.

A
LANA
lay perfectly still, listening to the soft, steady beat of Royce's heart. Here in the circle of his arms she wondered at the fact that, despite what was to come, she had never felt safer. With this man she had found her purpose for living. And if she must face death this day, at least she'd had this one night of perfect love.

Their lovemaking had been both tender and fierce. At times they had whispered together like long-lost lovers and had taken each other with soft, gentle sighs and muted laughter. At others, the need had come upon them with such force, all they could do was cling together and ride out the storm that left them shaken and sated.

She looked up to find him watching her in that quiet, intense way that never failed to touch her heart.

She lay a hand on his cheek. “I thought you were sleeping.”

“I resisted sleep, if it would rob me of even one moment of watching you.” He caught her hand and pressed it to his mouth. “My beautiful, precious Alana. I love you so. It tears my heart out to think about your fate.”

“You mustn't think of it.” She sat up and leaned over him, sending her hair swirling around his chest.

She saw his eyes narrow on her, the pupils darkening as she lowered her mouth to his. “Kiss me now, and take me quickly, before the day is upon us.”

As they gave themselves up to the passion, the nearby forest came alive with a chorus of birds. The earth was sweet with the scent of clover and thistle. But the man and woman were aware of nothing except the pleasure they brought, each to the other, as they slid away to that secret world known only to lovers.

 

A
LANA
slipped into her chemise and gown and ran her fingers through the tangles of her hair. “I must hurry to the refectory. Brin will need my help preparing to break the fast.” She turned to Royce with a knowing smile. “I'll bring your food out here, along with some hot mulled wine.”

“I need no wine, my lady.” He drew her close for a long, lingering kiss. “Not after a night of tasting your lips.”

They looked up at the sound of someone struggling over the wall.

Shoving Alana behind him, Royce withdrew his sword. When Ingram dropped to the ground, the two stared at him in surprise.

“All Hallows Eve may be upon us, but the danger is not until tonight, lad. Why did you leave your post?”

“A lone rider heads this way, bearing Laird Rothwick's crest.”

“A lone rider?” Royce's eyes narrowed. “And what of the rest of his army?”

“They follow at a distance.”

“For what purpose, I wonder.” Royce nodded toward the fortress. “Take the lady inside and report what you saw to the laird.”

As he began to scale the wall Alana called out, “Where do you go?”

“To see if Rothwick's army draws near. Perhaps it is a ploy so that we'll let down our guard.”

A short time later Royce shouted a warning, and Malcolm Lamont and his man-at-arms, Lochaber, stepped out of the fortress, followed by the women and children.

Royce stood atop the wall. “Rothwick's rider is at the gate.”

At an order from the laird, Jeremy and Dudley opened the gate to permit the horseman to enter.

Royce remained on the wall, staring into the distance, while watching and listening to the exchange between the laird and Rothwick's warrior.

The rider swung from his steed and handed the old man a rolled parchment. “My Laird Rothwick decrees that all surviving Highland lairds are to journey to his fortress before nightfall, and there they shall swear fealty to the new laird of lairds.”

The old man glanced toward Royce, then returned his attention to the warrior. “If I refuse?”

“You will no longer be laird of your clan. Your fortress will be sacked and burned, and all within will be killed or taken prisoner.”

“And how do I know that won't happen when I leave my people without my leadership?”

“You have the word of my Laird Reginald Rothwick. His army will remain where they are unless you refuse the laird's offer. Then they will be given orders to advance and attack.”

Malcolm Lamont lowered his head before saying, “I must confer with my people, for my decision will affect all of their lives.”

The warrior glanced toward the fortress, as though assessing how many others might be within its walls. He gave a reluctant nod of his head. “Do it quickly. There is little time to waste. We must be safe within Laird Rothwick's fortress before darkness falls.”

Laird Lamont beckoned for Royce and the others to follow.

Once inside, the door barred to intruders, his manner turned grave. “I regret that I must fail you. You've worked so hard to prepare for battle. But it is as the Dark Angel said. Our enemy is taking advantage of All Hallows Eve to do his dirty
work. Not even the bravest Highland warrior would risk the walking dead to fight against this edict.”

Alana's voice reflected the shock and horror they were all feeling. “You would actually swear fealty to that villain, Father?”

“Nay. But if my journey to his fortress will buy time for those I love, how can I refuse?”

Alana turned to Royce. “Convince my father that what he intends is not only foolish, but evil. We must stand together to fight this monster.”

Royce saw the way they were all watching him. He touched a hand to Alana's shoulder. “It is the measure of your father's love for you”—he allowed his gaze to linger on each of the others—“for all of you . . . that he hopes to hold back the slaughter.” He turned to Laird Lamont. “But yours is an idle dream. Once Rothwick has you in his fortress, he will not give up until all have sworn fealty or are dead. Either way, there will be nothing left to stop him from destroying all who stand in his way.”

“Perhaps once he has what he wants, he will stop the killing, and the land and people can once more return to peace and begin to prosper.”

Royce gave a sad shake of his head. “I understand your need to cling to hope. But Rothwick cares not for peace or the prosperity of the people. The man is pure evil. He covets power and will do whatever it takes to have it.”

“How can you say this with such certainty?” the old man asked.

Royce lowered his head, but not before Alana saw the pain in his eyes.

When at last he lifted his head, his voice was low with anguish. “Even after all these years, I find it difficult to speak of the past, but it is time. I am Royce, of the clan MacLish.”

There was an audible gasp throughout the room.

“On the day of anguish that all Highlanders remember, I witnessed the murder of my young friends, my father's most trusted warriors, and my brother, Fitzroy. Rothwick himself boasted of killing my father and mother.”

“But we heard that all were murdered that day.” The old laird was staring at this young man with a look of shock. “How is it possible that you survived?”

Royce shook his head. “I know not. While two of Rothwick's warriors held me, he thrust his lance deep into my chest. I lay in cold and darkness for hours, or perhaps days, before I realized that I was not dead. A family fleeing Rothwick's army found me and removed the lance from my body, but they were too fearful to remain in that place, and so they put me in their cart with their possessions and carried me along with them on their trek to escape. When I learned that they planned to leave the Highlands, I begged to be left behind. And so they left me in the cover of the forest, and I will be forever grateful to them for saving my life.” He lifted his head, his voice growing stronger. “I have always known why my life was spared. It is my destiny to end this madness.”

Laird Lamont's eyes narrowed. “How? What can one man do?”

“I will accompany you to Rothwick's fortress as your man-at-arms. Once there, I will find a way to confront Rothwick.”

“You will be outnumbered hundreds to one.”

“Aye.” Royce touched a hand to the small, sharp dirk tucked into his waist. “I did not say I would leave his fortress alive. Only that I would end the madness. Since that day of deceit, my life has mattered not to me. But I made a vow to my father and mother, and to my brother Fitzroy, that I would see Rothwick dead and my beloved Highlands free of tyranny.”

An eerie silence settled over the people as they realized the enormity of his plan.

Tears filled Alana's eyes. “Please, Royce, I beg you to consider. There must be another way besides facing certain death.” She turned to her father. “I can't bear to lose both of you, for you must know that you'll not survive such a bold attack.”

The old man arched a brow, but before he could say a word, Royce caught her hand and lifted it to his mouth. “Can you not see that for those who love you, it is not death we fear, but rather the hideous fate that will befall you and the others if
the plan should fail? For that reason, you must not remain here. As soon as All Hallows Eve is past, and it is safe to journey once more, you and the others must flee to the Lowlands.”

“Run, like cowards?”

“Nay, love. Run, because it is your only hope of living for another day. It will give your father and me great comfort to know that those we love are safely free of Rothwick's clutches.”

“And you?” she asked softly.

“My life matters not. Do you not see, my love? It was for this reason only that my life was spared. For this I am more than willing to die.”

There was a loud rap on the outer door, and a muffled voice announced that it was time to depart.

Alana cast a pleading glance toward her father, but the old man was looking at Royce as if seeing him for the first time.

He took a deep breath before turning to Lochaber. “On the morrow you will do your best to lead the women and children to safety.”

“Aye, my laird.”

Alana was openly weeping as her father turned to Brin. “My man-at-arms must not be seen in animal hides, like a barbarian. The son of Ramsay MacLish, the most beloved of all lairds, will wear the finest plaid you can find. Show him to my chambers.”

The old lady pressed the hem of her apron to her eyes to stem her tears as she led the way from the room. Moments later she returned, followed by Royce. With a length of plaid wrapped around his waist, the end tossed over one shoulder, his feet encased in leather boots, he looked every inch a proud, fearsome Highland warrior.

Seeing Alana weeping, he paused beside her. “I must say this now, before I leave, my lady. Know always that I love you more than my own life.”

She nodded and lifted her head proudly, choking back sobs. “I know, Royce. And even though my heart is breaking, I understand the wisdom of your plan.”

He touched a hand to her cheek. Just a touch, before
lowering his hand to his side and stepping back. “What I do, I do proudly and willingly, for my land and my people.”

As he began to follow the old laird to the door, the others reached out a hand to touch his arm, his plaid, his hair, or simply to call out a word of encouragement.

“I'd willingly go with you, my laird,” Ingram shouted.

“And I,” Jeremy and Dudley echoed.

“Bless you, my laird,” called the women.

At the door a small hand caught his, and Royce looked down to see Meara standing there, her eyes filled with tears, her lower lip trembling.

He lifted her up in his big arms and pressed his mouth to her ear. “Stay close to the Lady Alana, lass. You can be a great comfort to one another in the days to come.” He set her down. “Will you do that for me?”

She nodded shyly, then ran and hid behind Alana's skirts.

Royce gave a last look around at the faces of the people he'd come to know and love, and then at Alana, who stood with head held high, eyes brimming.

He turned and walked from the fortress behind the old laird.

 

A
T
the sound of fading hoofbeats, Alana wiped her tears and raced out of the fortress. Standing at the open gate, she watched as the three horsemen started across the meadow. Rothwick's man led the way, with her father and Royce following close behind.

The three lads, Ingram, Jeremy, and Dudley, walked up to stand solemnly beside her.

“I hope they're safely inside the fortress before dark.” Ingram shuddered, and the other two nodded in agreement.

Seeing it, Alana sounded incredulous. “Are you saying that you would prefer death inside an evil villain's fortress to facing those known as the walking dead?”

The three lads seemed to consider before turning to her.

“Wouldn't you, my lady?” Jeremy asked the question for all of them. “At least, with Laird Rothwick, Royce has a
chance of killing him before being killed by his loyal warriors. What chance would he have with souls that are already dead?”

“I know not. But I do believe that only the souls of the just are allowed to return to their bodies this night.” Alana seemed to be lost in thought as she studied the army that remained on the far side of the meadow, until her father was out of sight.