The Magic of Highland Dragons (22 page)

It was a man. He was tall, with dark straight hair that fell just below his shoulders. He had a muscular build, and might have been quite handsome, except for the cruel bent of his features. Especially his mouth, which was twisted even now into a kind of a sneering smile. Faith didn’t need anyone to tell her that this was the bad guy, because he couldn’t have been any more cliché. Most likely Mored himself.
A dark wizard.
That didn’t seem to bode very well for her current situation.

“So, ye’re finally awake.” Even his voice was… uncomfortable when he spoke, cold, a little bit menacing. It grated at her nerves as if they were raw. “I’ve been waiting for ye, for a verra long time.” He hung the lamp on a spike which had been driven into a crack in the cave wall, and then stepped closer, reaching down to pull her roughly to her feet. His touch was cool, even cold, but she could feel his strength, and something more, something that wasn’t quite right. She had the overwhelming urge to shrink back from him, and to get away, any way she could.

“Dinna be shy, lass”, he said to her. “Come into my home. Make yerself comfortable, after all, ye’ll be my guest here for quite some time.”

Faith felt her stomach sink to the floor with a sickening speed at his words. A simultaneous rush of adrenaline threatened to send her over the edge into panic, but she bravely fought it back. She had to be able to think if she was going to get out of this. Or stay alive until Bren came for her. He
would
come for her. She had never been more certain of anything before, and now it gave her the hope and the calm she so desperately needed.

He pushed her ahead of him into a larger chamber, still obviously part of a cave, but furnished almost as if it were a luxurious home. Rich carpets covered the dirt floor, and tapestries hung from the cold stone walls, although in the dim lamp light, the bright colors did not show, appearing more as shades of blue-grey. On one side of the chamber stood a large bed of carved mahogany, and it was there that she was led. She wondered absurdly how one got such a large bed into a cave, but then she remembered that this was a wizard’s cave. Though she knew next to nothing about the whole concept of magic and how it worked, it probably explained the bed.

“Sit. Let me look at ye.” He pushed her down, then leaned over and lifted her chin with one finger. The way he moved, his very presence was… unnatural, not quite right, as if she were watching him through a thick piece of glass. “A beauty,” he pronounced.

She turned her head away from his touch. “Are you Mored?” She already knew the answer.

He gave a little laugh, and a slight, mocking bow. “Aye, lass, at yer service. Ye have heard of me, then?”

She didn’t answer, but regarded him coldly. So she had gone and gotten herself captured by Mored himself, the very man who wanted her dead. Well, he wouldn’t get what he wanted, because she was determined to stay alive. She found herself looking at him and wondering if he had always been this way. Had he been born… evil? Or had he truly chosen this path for himself out of a lust for power and destruction? If that was the case, she didn’t hold any pity for him or the man he might have been. He would die eventually. Bren would see to that. And she would stand by his side and help him.

A movement at the other entrance to the room caught her attention. She looked over and was more than a little surprised to see a woman standing there. She was lovely, with auburn curls and a slender figure. But right now her face was twisted with something any woman instinctively recognized in another. Jealousy. And hate. And by the look of her, she was burning with it as she watched Mored toy with his captive. With a sudden flash of insight, Faith saw her best chance of escape.

Moving her gaze reluctantly back to Mored, Faith parted her lips just a little, batted her eyelashes, once, twice. “What would I have to do, for you to spare my life? Is there nothing that you… want? Nothing I could give you?”

His eyes narrowed on her appreciatively and one corner of his mouth turned up in a heartless smile.

“What did ye have in mind, lass? What then, is yer life worth to ye? Although I make nay promises, I am always open to suggestions.”

Faith opened her mouth to tell him she would do anything at all, but she was interrupted as the auburn-haired woman breezed into the room, anger and hatred written plainly on her face. Evidently she had already had enough. She pressed herself to Mored’s side, clinging to him possessively. Faith really didn’t understand the attraction.
No, really, he’s all yours
, she thought derisively. It must be his power, she supposed. Power and wealth drew some women like flies. But then, so did bad boys.

“Is our guest awake, then love?” the woman cooed to him in a syrupy voice.

Mored looked more than slightly annoyed at her bold interruption, and did not bother to answer her. Instead he turned back to Faith. He took a length of rope out of his pocket, and proceeded to tie her tightly to the bedpost. With her hands already bound behind her, she knew she had almost no chance of escape on her own. She needed the other woman’s help, and an opportunity.

Luckily that opportunity came sooner than she could have ever hoped.

Mored leaned over and put a hand on her cheek. Faith had to still the overwhelming urge to turn and bite him. “I have to go out for a bit, love”, he said to her. “Yer lover searches for ye even now, and it would be terribly rude of me not to go and meet him halfway. But Elen here will see to yer comfort while I’m gone. Willna ye see to our guest, dearest?”

Elen’s look shot daggers at both of them, but then she seemed to think better of crossing such a dangerous man.

“Aye, of course.” She gave him an insipid smile, and he left the two women alone, pausing to whisper a warning in Elen’s ear that made her eyes spark with fresh rage.

Chapter 12
҈

It was dawn, and at Dunreven Bren joined Loghan at the high table. The tension of the night before had dissipated, and Bren was full of nervous energy. Today he would make Faith his wife… and tonight… tonight he would make her
his
. Or perhaps this afternoon, if he couldn’t make himself wait that long. Aye, most definitely this afternoon. Perhaps they could ride out for a picnic, and he could lay her out naked on a bed of soft moss under the trees. He almost sighed out loud, then looked impatiently at the empty staircase. The minutes dragged slowly by, and still Faith did not appear. Loghan smiled apologetically.

“Nay doubt she wants to look her best for ye.”

But Bren was getting worried. Faith wasn’t one to fuss over her looks. She didn’t need to, he thought, she would be beautiful dressed in rags and covered with mud as far as he was concerned. Something wasn’t right, he could feel it in his gut. “Perhaps ye should send someone to look in on her”, he suggested.

Loghan obliged, and the maid he sent up to Faith’s room returned not two minutes later.

“My laird, she’s no’ in her chamber.”

Bren shot up out of his chair, upending it onto the floor. “NO!”

He was racing up the stairs before Loghan could even gain his feet. He tore into her room. “Faith!” There was no answer. He pulled the covers off the bed, looked beneath it, checked the wardrobe.

Meanwhile, Loghan had set everyone to searching the castle. But Bren knew in his heart she wasn’t in the castle anymore. He felt it like a steel band tightening around his chest. Mored had taken her somehow, taken
his
woman, from her own father’s home, and he was going to get her back. He trembled with the incredible force of his rage, and in the hall plates and mugs began to fall from the tables and shelves as powerful energy surged through the room.

“Mored has her, I can feel it! Ready yer best men, Loghan. I’m going after her.”

Eian grabbed his arm as he turned to leave. “Wait! Bren, it’s a trap! He’s using her as bait, it’s ye he wants. He’ll kill ye if ye go after her with nay plan!”

“I’m going.” He clapped Eian on the back, his face a mask of fury and determination. “Have ye so little belief in me brother? I want her back far more than he wants to keep her, far more even than he wants me dead. I was born to fight, and I will win.”

Bren sent one man back to tell Drust what had happened so that he could prepare for what might come. The rest he brought with him, all armed to the teeth and eager for battle, especially against the one man they all hated more than any other.

It was no more than a half day’s ride before they found that battle, closer than they would have guessed; closer than it ever should have been.

Bren was first to feel the change in the air. It grew thicker, sharper, and more foreboding. It was subtle, and a more ordinary man would perhaps not even notice the faint influence of dark magic. He might just have a cold shiver down his back, or feel that eyes were upon him, or if he was especially sensitive, have the sudden urge to run. But to Bren there was no doubt: Mored was near. He turned and signaled to the other men. They were ready. Without further warning, a ball of flame flew at them. Not really flame at all, but pure, raw energy. Then another, and another. While the rest of the men held up their shields to deflect the fiery missals, Bren stopped them with his bare hands, hurling them effortlessly back in the direction from which they’d come. The battle went on this way for several minutes before they even caught sight of their opponents, who now rode hell-bent out of the forest towards them, shouting and swinging their swords. The Mac Coinnach and McAlpin men quickly engaged the enemy, and with honor and outrage on their side to help them, Mored’s men began to fall. Bren rode forward through the melee, slaughtering any man who stood in his way, until he saw the one man he wanted to kill more than he wanted his next breath. Mored was seated on his midnight-black stallion, jaw set, waiting only for Bren to come close enough.

The two leaders faced each other now, with identical looks of death in their eyes. The two powerful destriers circled one another, as each man waited to see if the other would strike first. Mored did. With a shrieking battle cry he lifted his sword, his horse rearing up on hind legs for a moment before plunging forward. Bren blocked the strike, the impact of metal on metal felt like fire in his arm. Mored gathered himself for a second strike, and Bren blocked it again. He knew this game; they had played it before. He did not strike back, but instead prepared himself for what would come next. Mored would not be satisfied with using a mere sword for long. He felt the subtle shift in the air just before the bolt of energy left Mored’s hands. It was what he was waiting for. He deflected the surge of power neatly with one of his own, sending both back towards Mored with a force that should have been deadly if it were a direct hit. But at the last instant, Mored disappeared.

Bren growled low in frustration, then lifted his head and shouted his outrage. He should have had him! God only knew where he had gone off to now, he could be anywhere. He needed to get to Faith quickly. He signaled to the other men, who were coming up behind him after having just finished off the small band of Mored’s paid followers. Most of his followers were bought with coin, not loyalty.

Without a word, they raced toward the hills where his lair was suspected to be hidden deep within the earth.

Left alone with Elen, Faith didn’t hesitate to put her plan into action. She was sure she wouldn’t have much time before Mored returned, and she was terribly afraid that Bren would be hurt if he tried to rescue her. She wanted more than anything to get out of this place and find him first, before he risked his life to save her. Before she could cause any more trouble than she already had.

“Listen to me”, she said to the other woman with more strength than she felt. “You want me out of here, and I want nothing more than to be gone.”

The woman gave her a bored look, but her eyes still snapped and burned. “So?”

“It’s simple. Untie these ropes. I’ll leave, and you’ll never see me again.”

Elen swung around to look at her, eyes filled with such hatred that Faith could really only pity her. But at least now she had the woman’s full attention.

“Why should I untie ye, whore? Why should I risk everything I’ve worked so hard for, for the likes of ye? He only wants ye because ye’re the
Mac Coinnach’s
whore, ye ken.”

Faith opened her mouth to reply, and a terrible thought occurred to her. “Did he use magic to bind me? Are you even able to undo the knots?”

Elen scoffed at her. “Of course I can untie the knots, ye simpleton. If Mored used magic within this chamber it would lead Mac Coinnach straight to us. He could follow it like a beacon. Do ye ken anything at all?”

Thank god. Faith drew in a breath, praying that she would say the right words, afraid that she wouldn’t. “Look, if you untie me, you can lie on the floor and pretend to be unconscious, as if I got loose and hit you over the head. Mored will never know. If you kill me, he will hate you. If you leave me tied up until he comes back, I will be forced to seduce him to get myself free.” She paused, measuring Elen’s reaction, preparing to possibly be struck. But the woman only glared at her more fiercely, her hands clenched tightly at her sides, her beauty completely ruined by what was in her heart. Faith could see pain mingling with the rage in Elen’s eyes, but she went on.