Dragon Knight's Sword (30 page)

He heard a choking sound behind him and spun to find Patrick had braced his hands on the table to hold himself. “
Why
would an O’Neill have anything to do with a Mackay? And how do ye ken he’s been there these past twelve moons? Sean?”

“Sean has eyes in the castle, verra beautiful eyes as a matter of fact.” He gave Patrick a wink. “Do I ken why she is with the Mackay? Nae. Only that she is
his
woman and”—Alex pointed a finger at Patrick—“I do not think he knows the whereabouts of Adam.”

“Michael will use the woman in his quest for vengeance, ye ken this?” Patrick stated, finally pushing off from the table.

“What makes ye say that, brother?”

“Lachlan also knows about the woman. I overheard him mention this in passing when he was not aware of my presence. He spoke of an O’Neill and that is when he thought it best to speak in private.”

Alex slammed a fist against the wall, glaring back at Patrick. “We waste time with the Mackay, instead of searching for Adam! I tell ye Lachlan has other plans, and I do not trust him. What say ye?”

Slowly, Patrick poured some more wine into their mugs, his decision made the moment he stepped into Alex’s chambers, one that would divide them against not only their brother, but also their laird. In truth, he had been unsure of Alex’s loyalities and uneasiness quelled inside of him. Walking over to Alex, he handed him his mug.

Patrick sighed heavily. “I have never trusted Lachlan, ever since the verra day he came back telling us of our father’s death. He is as slippery as an eel and he reeks of evil. I have suspected that all he wants is the relics of the Dragon Order in order to gain the power for himself. I was unsure of your loyalty to the druid for many years. Then, there is Michael. He has always heeded his counsel, more so, after the death of our father.”

Alex lifted a brow. “Brother, I have held my tongue far too long. It seems as if the corridors have eyes everywhere. We have a problem if Michael continues to listen to his council, since the druid bends Michael’s will to his.” Slugging back the wine, he added, “I believe he’s using
us
to get to the Mackay. When did Lachlan return?”

“Late last night.”

“By the hounds!” Alex rubbed a hand on the back of his neck in frustration. “Then we have a problem, Patrick. I met up with Lachlan over seven days ago.”

“And?” Patrick gave a noncommittal shrug. “Do ye not think he had other plans before he returned?”

Slashing out a hand in a negative response, he replied, “Nae, he was determined to give Michael the news immediately. I tell ye, the druid is up to something.” There was a bitter edge of cynicism in his voice.

Silence descended in the room, as the fire hissed and snapped. Patrick felt cold dread clutch his chest. Perhaps he had been wrong in confronting Alex with his concerns. He despised the druid. But would Alex turn against the Lachlan and their brother,
the laird
? He had years ago. Yet would Alex be willing to turn against their clan in order to save them?

Patrick’s cold impersonal tone broke the silence. “Then we must gather only our most trusted men and confront the Mackay at Castle Creag.”

“Christ, Patrick! Did ye not hear me? We should be searching for Adam,
not
the bastard Mackay!” he exclaimed in a harsh, raw voice.

“Alex.” He leaned forward clamping both hands on his brother’s shoulders, meeting his angry scowl. “I grow weary of this feud and no news of Adam. Hell! I do not want the relics! They have never been ours, and to continue a feud over them and the land is costing us dearly.” Patrick pushed away and went over to the fire. Placing both his hands on the stone mantel, he stared into the flames.

“Then we are of like mind, my brother, but why seek out the Mackay?” Alex had lost some of the fury in his tone.

Patrick glanced back over his shoulder with a mischievous grin. “I say we go straight to the devil, asking
him
the whereabouts of Adam.”

****

“So, the bloody bastard has been at Castle Creag all these months.” Michael took the mug from Lachlan and watched as he poured some for himself.

“It would seem so.” Lachlan strolled over to a massive chair, facing Michael and sat. He was weary, and that made for mistakes.

Michael hesitated, and then took a sip. He approached Lachlan. “Tell me again, what of this woman.”

“She is an O’Neill, yet how she came here is uncertain. She has no kinfolk with her, and for the moment, she plans to stay there. They say Duncan is protective of her and calls her his. There is talk he even took a fist to the Murray over her.”

Michael only smirked on the last remark. “What of the sword?”

Lachlan betrayed no emotions when he answered, “None.”

Michael cocked an eyebrow in question. “I find it hard to fathom that Duncan Mackay is so besotted by a woman’s charms, he has abandoned his quest for the sword.” He walked over to the table and placed his mug down.

Lachlan was hesitant to say more, but he needed to convince Michael that the key to the sword was through this woman. He silently placed his mug on the ground and steepled his fingers. “Perhaps this woman is the key to finding the sword and Adam.”

He watched as Michael turned and leaned against the table, his arms crossed over his chest. “Go on.”

“We need to speak with this woman. Perhaps, gain her trust.”

Michael let out a bark of laughter. “Lachlan, ye surprise me.
Talk
to a woman? Gain her
trust
? Nae, that is why ye are the druid and I am the laird.” His look turned sinister when he added, “I say we just take her. With her in our possession, it won’t take long for the Mackay to be at our door.”

“Ah, yes. Your plan would be wiser.” Lachlan steeled himself from gloating at how he manipulated Michael. Standing, he went over to Michael, a frown forming on his face.

Holding his hands together in front of him, he said, “I fear we may have another problem.”

“What would that be?”

“Alex and Patrick. They may not be willing to kidnap the woman.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed. “I am their laird, and they
will
obey me. Do not worry about them.” Turning, he strode out from his chambers issuing orders to the man outside.

A slow smiled curved ever so slightly on Lachlan’s mouth, his thoughts plotting out the next step.

Chapter 43

“Tell me the flowers of the faery, and I’ll whisper to you their meaning.”

“Ouch!
Blast
that hurts.” Brigid brought her pricked finger to her mouth, tasting blood and spitting out the small prickly thorn. She heard giggling to her side and saw Nell hunched over, a hand clamped over her mouth. Her eyes narrowed on the small girl.

“Hey, it’s not like I do this every day. I think I’ll take back my dirk I gave you to make it easier.”

“If ye think it will make it easier for ye, here.” Nell handed her the dirk hilt facing Brigid with a broad smile on her face.

Bridgid reconsidered. “Thanks, but I think I’ll move on to something say—
softer
.”

“Ye are funny, Lady Brigid,” snickered Nell.

“Yeah, I’m a regular comedian.” Brigid stood straightening her dress. It was days like these when she longed to be wearing her jeans and boots. Nell suggested they pick some wildflowers for the Samhain feast tomorrow, so trying to pick wildflowers in a gown was one aspect of medieval life she was still adjusting too.

Stretching her arms over her head to work out the kinks in her shoulders, she stood taking in the beauty of her surroundings. They had ventured out early this morning with Finn and one of the guards, since Duncan and Cormac had insisted they not leave the castle without protection. They never did find out whom, or if one of the MacFhearguises was traveling on their lands. Duncan had been fierce in his protection of her, another issue she was still coming to terms with.

Brigid clasped her arms around her waist reliving the past few days with Duncan. During the daytime they were apart; however, on occasion, they would run into each other along the dark silent corridors, filling them with passionate kisses—a promise of what they would have come nightfall.

She may have been weary from lack of sleep, but she would not trade it for anything. He filled her body and soul. Every time she saw him, it was as if she fell more in love with him. The only thorn, which was not the one in her finger, was the one when Conn would return for her.

Then there was the situation with the sword. It struck her that there had to be more than just handing it over to Duncan. Hell, even Duncan mirrored her thoughts and they spent many an hour discussing the same, with no solution. It was after one of their heated discussions regarding Conn and the sword that Duncan decided to seek out advice from Cathal. One of these days, she would have to ask Duncan how he knew the Fenian warrior.

Cathal had left yesterday morning to prepare for the feast of Samhain, and Duncan had ridden out soon thereafter. The druid required solitary meditation and would return the day of Samhain to celebrate with them.

The wind brushed against her face and for a moment, she expected it to be Duncan, but he wouldn’t be back until Samhain. She placed a hand against her cheek. “Hurry back,” she whispered.

Her head snapped around when she heard the anguished cry of an animal in the trees ahead. Glancing back at Nell, she saw the girl heard it, too. Before she could utter a word of warning to her, Nell was up and running toward the sound.

“No, Nell!” Reaching out to grab her, Brigid tripped and fell slamming to the cold ground with such force she had to catch her breath. Quickly hauling herself up, she twisted to see Nell already dodging into the thick grove of trees.

“Finn? Dougal?” Brigid yelled. “Blast! You were shadowing our every move and
now
when we need you...” Brigid couldn’t wait and took off after Nell.

Another cry from the animal echoed out from among the trees. Brigid ran as fast as her feet could carry, the dress hampering her efforts to move quickly.

“Nell!” Brigid screamed praying Dougal or Finn had heard her. She was trying hard not to panic, since she heard nothing from Nell. Slowing her pace, she entered the grove of thick pine trees. Brushing past them, she stepped over several logs coming to a halt. Scanning the dense thicket, she let her eyes adjust to the semi-darkness. “Nell, where are you?” she snapped.

Creeping along gradually, she froze when she heard a low growl coming from her right. Turning, she peered down and noticed Nell sitting down beside what looked like a wooden cage. Moving forward cautiously, the animal’s growl intensified, bringing her to a halt. She also saw that Nell held up her hand in warning to stay her footsteps.

“What are you doing?” hissed Brigid. “Come here this instant!”

Nell shook her head no, and spoke quietly. “Och, gray wolf, I’m sorry we have scared ye, but I can help ye out of that ugly cage. I ken there are awful persons who would do such cruel things. If ye would be so kind, I would like to move a bit closer to take a look at the latch.”

Brigid’s heart pounded and she refused to let a small girl tell her, the adult, what to do. It occurred to her they wouldn’t have much time before the wolf lunged and broke free from his bondage, only to feast on the girl in front of him. Taking small steps forward, she inched slowly toward Nell.

The wolf snarled and snapped at Brigid.

“
Please
, Lady Brigid,” pleaded Nell. “I ken what I am doing. Gray wolf is frightened and if I can soothe him, he will trust me. Ye are not helping.”

“Bloody hell.” Irritation lacing her voice. “What are you planning to do?”

“To set him free.” Nell continued speaking in hushed tones to the wolf.

Brigid watched, and then realized if only she had her dirk. Why did she not take it back when Nell offered?
Where in God’s green earth are you, Finn and Dougal?
This is insanity
. Quickly scanning her surroundings, she looked for anything that could be used for a weapon. Perhaps, a large heavy branch or rock? However, that would require her to move, and the animal kept eyeing her every few minutes then back again to Nell.

Enough she thought. Her only hope was to run, gather Nell, and hurry as fast as she could out of the trees, praying Dougal was nearby. Just when she was about to lunge at Nell, the wolf silently made a whooshing sound as if sighing and lay down. She gaped and watched in horror as Nell lifted the wooden latch from the cage and sat back down.

As if sensing her fear, Nell said softly, “Dinnae fetch me Lady Brigid. I will come to ye.”

Brigid swallowed, and the lump that was in her heart now lodged inside her throat. If need be, she would run and place herself in front of Nell. Time stood still as she waited what seemed like eternity, fear rooting her to the ground. Brigid had no doubt her bravery would take over if the wolf decided to make Nell his next meal.

Nell gradually stood up. Muttering something in Gaelic, she blew the wolf a kiss. Then Nell did something that Brigid concluded was utterly foolish, she turned her back on the wolf and made her way toward Brigid. She kept her eyes steady on the wolf until she felt Nell grasp her hand. Pushing her toward her side, she stepped back ever so slowly.

The wolf raised its head and sniffed the air causing Brigid to halt her steps. She watched in horror as the wolf casually stood and stepped through the cage. Giving them one last look over, it sauntered away through the thicket of trees.

Brigid’s shoulders slumped, and her breath came out in a rush. “Sweet Mother.” Her eyes narrowed as she pivoted around to look at Nell, who was seemingly unaware of the danger they had just faced.

Trying to keep her anger at bay she asked, “What could have possibly possessed you to go over and open the door for that wild animal?”

Nell gave her an insolent look. “It needed my help.”

“That wolf”—Brigid pointed to where the wolf had been—“could have eaten you alive!”

Innocent eyes of a child gazed into hers saying, “Och, nae, it just wanted to be set free.”

There was no convincing Nell she was right in this matter. So Brigid bit her tongue and counted to ten, fearing she would lash out and be more of a threat than the wolf. Nell’s hand squeezed hers ever so gently, which brought her focus back down to the smile on the little girl’s face, melting her anger. Brigid dropped down on her knees to her level.