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  "One! Ye shall marry this Graemme of Clibrick in a fortnight and learn to be an obedient wife. He is kindness itself to ye, allowing ye to take the mangy cur. The dog is good for naught but to keep the squires busy covering his shite in the bailey."

  As if by habit, he picked a scrap of food and threw at his feet. Squat wolfed it down.

  Lady Joneta winked at Elyne. "The poor little beast's stomach is unsettled and you dinna help feeding him from the table. He needs only barley water to soothe his stomach and naught but gruels," she said.

  After Squat broke wind loud enough to have come from one of the knights, Broccin waved his hand in front of his face.

  "I've added a bit of savory to prevent building up his wind," Elyne said while she too fluttered a small piece of cloth with rose water under her nose.

  "It isna working!

  "These things take time, Brother." Joneta patted his hand and stifled a grin. "Eat the pigeon pie afore it gets any colder. I do wish the kitchens were closer to the great hall."

  "Stop trying to distract me from reminding Elyne she is soon to be wed. Ranald and his family will be here afore ye know it. I think he intends to meet young Graemme afore the wedding, though if he doesna like him, 'tis Graemme's bad luck."

  "Father, please believe me. Graemme means me harm."

  "The only harm ye are in is falling off the battlements with yer crazy sleep walking."

  "I have not moved from my bed for the past sennight!"

  "Aye. Now Ysabel sleeps with the other unmarried lasses, a firm rope tied around yer ankle keeps ye there."

  "Pish!"

  Elyne had to admit she had been dreamless these past fortnights, but she wasn't going to give her father the satisfaction of telling him so. She bit her fingernails until there was nothing left to catch between her teeth. The thought of traveling to the land of the bestial Highlanders turned her stomach.

  She had heard they ate like pigs, preferring their food half-cooked, the meat still dripping blood. She near gagged at the thought. The only saving grace was Muriele would be her sister-by-law, though she wouldn't live at the same castle. When things got too bad, she could always run off and join her at Blackbriar.

  The thought heartened her a bit. Then she kicked herself under the table for even considering going through with the wedding.

  Not many nights later, her sleep was again fraught with nightmares.

  'Twas but four days afore her wedding day. She dreaded seeing Graemme's coming with foreboding. She twitched in her bed. Her legs thrashed and tried to reach the floor. Sitting up, she found the knot in the rope.

  In few quick swipes, she was free to run as fleet as a doe to the top of the castle. She could hear the horses in the distance. She stood from the tallest point watching the forest path. A man and his horse burst from the trees. His face was a blur, but she knew it was Graemme. He seemed triumphant, for he reared his horse. The magnificent beast's hooves clawed the air, and the man let out a warbling war cry from deep within his chest. An army of savages followed him, riding horses shooting fire from their nostrils. Each warrior seemed taller than the other, some with hair over their faces, others with pointed ears and long, sharp snouts. They were a clan of half-human, half-animal giants!

  Elyne stood on solid ground and grasped the stones on either side to steady herself. Looking down, she found him directly below her. His shadowy face showed his fury, for though guards had lowered the drawbridge, they had refused to open the great teeth of the barbican entrance.

  "Ye will marry me this day," he snarled, "else I will destroy every stone betwixt us!"

  "Huh! I am not such a fool. If I married ye, ye would soon feed me to yer hungry army. Why they drool at the mouth when they look upon me!"

  A dog's frantic barking caught her attention away from him. She looked around the ground, thinking he had brought a devil hound with him to help in his hunt for her.

  "Order the men to raise the teeth of the portcullis, woman, or I will destroy ye afore ye can move!"

  When she did not, his eyes became narrowed slits. Blue lights glowed from them. Fury turned his face as red as the hottest fire. The wind ruffled pale, gold hanks of hair below the edge of his helmet.

  The hanks of gold hair distracted her until the dog began to howl. Could it be the specter of a dog and not a live one? The man's next words drew her attention back to him.

  "I am warning ye. Do not thwart me in this. I have vowed ye would be my wife. As the Devil is my master, ye will wed me this day!"

  As he slowly lifted his sword, fear paralyzed her. She couldn't move. He pointed the sharply honed tip at her. She watched, fascinated as it began to glow. Sparks sizzled off it and lit the night sky.

  His face seemed to lift in a smile. Not a smile of kindness, but one of malicious triumph.

  A lightning strike started slowly to grow from the sword.

  'Twas beautiful to see. The startling hues of blue and silver and blinding white fascinated her as they neared.

  "Order the iron gate up, else I will strike ye down!"

  She didn't move. Finally, the lightning bolt's tip was so close to her eyes it blinded her.

  Elyne screamed as she fell to the beasts below.

  She awakened in a panic. She was not the only panicked one, for guards were leaning over the battlements. One man grasped her around the waist, near falling off himself.

  Her feet flailed naught but air!

  The shouting of the guards and the frantic barking of what she now knew was Squat drew her from her frightening dream. Blinking, she looked down and saw emptiness. Her waist felt near squeezed into half where her rescuer had a steel-like grip on her. When her arms cleared the stone battlements, others grabbed them too, not wanting to take a chance she would stumble forward and fall.

  "Hold on to the dafty girl!"

  Her father's face loomed above all the guards as he charged through them to get to her. Fear filled his eyes. His lips were bloodless. Why, he did care for her but didn't want anyone to think him weak because his daughter meant something to him. After all the years of fighting with him over every little thing she wanted to do, it was a strange thing to realize.

  When he reached her, she felt like he carried her wrapped in a huge bear rug, for he held her in his arms close to his heart. He didn't speak but headed down the spiral stairway. Reaching the solar, he allowed his sister entrance but no one else.

  Once he released her to stand on her feet, he started shouting.

  "Has Lucifer addled yer brains with maggots? I have a mind to send a patrol to Sir Graemme and tell him he'd best make haste to get here else he'll be without a wife come the wedding!"

  Broccin unconsciously shook his leg, for Squat had not liked his yelling at Elyne.

  "Father! He's going to kill me with his sword the first time I make him angry!"

  "Ye talk like an eejit! Never has he given ye a reason to not trust him."

  "Perchance because we hardly know him?!" Elyne shouted as loud as he and felt her face redden with the effort.

  "I know him enough! He did the right thing. I didna even have to burn his toes to get his vow to marry ye."

  "Burn his toes? Ye threatened to hack his stones from his body! Any man faced with losing his treasures would utter an unwanted vow."

  "The short time he was here, he talked of fulfilling a promise to his brother. It proves he is a man of honor."

  Broccin realized Squat had pissed on him again and aimed a kick at him. The dog scurried away, his hind end nearly sweeping the floor of any debris.

  "What? Because he made his brother a vow?"

  "Nay, fool! Because he didna have him killed so he would be first in line for his father's estate."

  Elyne's mouth dropped open. Did men really think only of their own possessions and not of their loves ones? Nay. The men in her family…except her father, perhaps…loved each other. Ranald and Moridac had been as close as any identical twins could possibly be. Moridac grieved for years after he
believed Ranald had died at Kelso Abbey. She realized her father had started talking again.

  "Sir Graemme doesna look like a man who would kill his wife without reason." He stopped to take a breath. "Though the way ye are actin', 'tis more certain ye have lost yer mind. Should he hear of this, he'll fear ye will skewer him afore he comes to the bridal bed!"

  "I have told ye a score or more times, I canna marry him!"

  "And I have told ye time aplenty ye have no choice!"

  "Enough!"

  Aunt Joneta's shout would have scared birds from the rafters, had there been any there.

  "Such frightful dreams are caused by naught but a maiden's fears. Come, morn will be here soon enough. By the shadows beneath your eyes, you need to sleep peacefully. I will sleep with you this night." She put her arm around Elyne's shoulders and hugged her. "You'll see. Your dreams will stop."

  Neither spoke again until they reached Elyne's chambers and they were abed.

  "Mayhap it is not even Sir Graemme you dream about. It could be some other man in his family or thereabouts?"

  Elyne frowned. Nagging thoughts took hold. Why did he have golden hair when it was black? A trick of the light, mayhap? His head had been hard to see through the blur. Had his eyes been blue, or were they brown? She didn't remember. And didn't really care. Sir Graemme meant to kill her. She would be long gone from Raptor afore he came.

  Chapter 13

  Relief washed over Graemme when Clibrick Castle loomed in the distance. The sun was high and the waters of Loch Naver were calm. The large field of grass and wild flowers showed no enemy encampment, nor was there any hint of sun flashing off a helmet in Ben Clibrick behind it.

  He had arrived in time.

  Guards and welcoming people from the castle swarmed over them when they rode through to the keep. Sweyn was there to help with the women, and Graemme smothered a smile at the way he treated Esa. Why, anyone would think she was a young eyas out of a falcon's nest he was so gentle with his touch!

  Muriele's light brown eyes lit with happiness when she saw her two friends. She hurried Esa and Grunda into her chambers When Muriele studied their faces, she saw the same hurt and fear reflected in Esa's eyes as was in her own. Men had badly mistreated both in their lives. Her back had near healed and she'd determined she'd have no qualms of killing any man who took a hand to her again.

  "Grunda, they say I must marry Magnus tomorrow!"

  "And what say you?"

  Muriele looked at her like she had asked if she was planning on taking a broom ride to the moon the next day!

  "Nay! Of course. They may force me to stand before the priest but I'll not repeat the vows." Her chin hardened and her eyes narrowed, waiting for Grunda to argue with her.

  Grunda's face didn't show any reaction, but she shrugged and said, "The Gunns have gathered all their clan and are already riding west. From what I see, they will be here within two days time."

  The words were no sooner out of her mouth than Fergus knocked on the door. Chief Angus summoned Grunda to the men's solar. She slid from the room without a whisper of sound.

  She returned some time later, her face firm and determined. "Ye are to marry tomorrow. Sunday. There will still be a battle with the Gunns over it, but Magnus will be the master of Blackbriar and ye will be its mistress."

  "Magnus can stand afore the priest waiting on my vows until his hair turns gray, but I will not repeat the vows."

  "Aye. Ye will."

  Sure enough, Sunday saw a wedding at Clibrick Castle. Grunda saw to the bride, giving her mulled wine and keeping her calm. Though done hastily, it was a beautiful wedding. Graemme presented the rings belonging to Muriele's parents, the rings only the rightful owners of Blackbriar could wear by the King's decree. When Muriele had left Kinbrace so abruptly, Grunda had kept them safe in a box beneath the dirt floor of the hut.

  When time to repeat the vows, Muriele clamped her teeth together. They would not stay closed. She replied as if someone else were in her brain and formed the words that came from her mouth.

  During the night, Graemme grinned to himself, hearing his brother and his bride's frequent outbursts of pleasure. Both looked a little bemused the next morning.

  They had one more night of bliss before peace erupted into chaos.

  Graemme spent the night watching atop the castle wall walks. The hairs on his arms told him the Gunns were close. The people of the outlying villages were already within the castle walls, and Magnus had armed the warriors with weapons aplenty. They all waited, anxious for the battle to begin.

  He heard the Gunn's long before anyone could glimpse them.

  Horses pounding. Men yelling war cries passed down by their ancestors. Torches glowing high over the water where they should not be.

  Hell broke lose outside the castle.

  Chief Olaf came not over the hills, nor through the mountain passes. Around the foothills reaching out into Loch Naver, horses thundered through the surf, kicking up huge splashes of water. As they carried torches to light the still dark sky, their riders looked like phantom warriors from Viking raids a century ago.

  The built their camp on the sand and the grass field while Chief Olaf walked far out onto a series of flat, large rocks jutting into the loch. The glow from the torches played over his beard and long, shaggy hair making them look redder than usual. He wore animal pelts covering his shoulders and a wool kilt bunched securely at his waist. Water lapped against the rocks, splashing near as high as his knees. Looking like a statue of an ancient leader, he stared across the dark water.

  He did not speak, nor did he pay any heed to the castle at his back.

  Graemme almost pitied him. He looked a man torn between two sons.

  One of his blood whom he had fostered at seven; the other he had raised until he was a man.

  Olaf's shoulders slumped. At the middle of his dilemma was the huge fortress of Blackbriar and its riches.

  Which son would be its final owner?

  Later the same day, Graemme had his answer.

  The two chiefs wanted the matter settled without bloodshed, for each had raised the other's son. Chiefs Angus and Olaf, the sons Magnus and Feradoch and Father David agreed to meet outside the castle on open ground. There would be no weapons on either side.

  When Feradoch claimed his rights to Muriele for she had killed Esa and attempted to kill him, Magnus pointed to the top of the barbican. Sweyn moved aside and Esa stood there, her tall, dark beauty outlined by the blue sky behind her. She spoke loud and clear and told what had happened that fateful night.

  Feradoch near frothed at the mouth, saying she lied. Then as if she had never spoken, he went on to claim Muriele by his rights of handfast. Father David confirmed Muriele had sworn afore Chief Angus, Sir Magnus and the castle commanders as witness, that Feradoch had not consummated the handfast. And Muriele had been absent for more than a year and a day, so the handfast was no longer valid.

  Feradoch was incensed, knowing they would thwart his plans at every pass. His hand flashed down and retrieved a hidden dagger from his clothing. He leapt at Magnus. Magnus ordered everyone not to interfere.

  Behind them, Muriele had found a way out of the castle. Fleet as a doe, her feet barely touched the ground as she raced to protect Magnus. Chief Angus grabbed her as she tried to streak by him. He held her tight until both men tumbled to the ground.

  Neither moved. Feradoch sprawled atop Magnus. Blood seeped between them to the ground.

  When the two fathers separated the men, both were lifeless. Feradoch showed no wounds, but they could not hear a heartbeat or see any motion from his chest. Blood spread so fast over Magnus they despaired over being able to help him in time.

  Muriele sprawled in the dirt, holding Magnus' shoulders and head on her lap, keening. Rage overtook her. He couldn't leave her after they had finally realized their great love! She screamed and beat him on the chest. Tears streamed off her face as she ordered him to come back to her. Then, remorseful for doing su
ch a cruel thing to his body, she hugged him to her breasts.

  'Twas then he decided to again reside upon the earth.

  Muriele felt a gasp of air upon her breasts then heard his smothered words.

  "I canna breathe."

  After a fortnight, Magnus had healed enough to take his meals again in the great hall. They were having the final course of their evening meal when Graemme brought up the subject of leaving.

  "I vowed to return to Raptor Castle when my business of pulling your arse out of the fire was settled," he said.

  Magnus gave him a threatening look.

  "What business? Ye weren't there but two days from what ye said before." The more Magnus studied his brother's face, the brighter Graemme's face flamed.

  "Aye. Two days and a vow. Enough to settle a lifetime for me."

  "How is that possible?"

  "It seems Chief Broccin's daughter sleepwalks while having foretelling dreams."

  "Ah, Ranald's sister Elyne! Her dreams really do portend the future, Graemme. I myself have witnessed one come to pass," Muriele said.

  "But what does all this have to do with ye, Graemme?"

  Magnus studied his brother's eyes and saw the anticipation and the dread there. What caused it?

  "Searching for ye, I arrived late at Raptor. It was dark and everyone was abed. I thought to clean the dust from my body at the well."

  "'Tis reasonable. No one likes to have a dirty traveler breaking his fast at dawn. But why must ye return?" Sweyn said.

  "When I was bathing, I was, um, nekid."

  "How else were you to wash?" Sweyn raised his brows.

  "Aye. But a comely young lady was in a tree overhead. Spying on me. I grabbed her ankle and she fell. I ended on my back. She lay sprawled atop me."

  Muriele burst into laughter. "Her brother Ranald has forever warned her saying she would spy on one man too many and would pay the consequence!"