Chapter 3
Chapter Three
W ith little to do, the men often gathered in the main living space of the keep. It was split in two. A portion had several couches, comfortable chairs and a fireplace. There was a large table they dined at on the same side. In the other half, Padriag had conjured a pool table and had taught them all to play. He’d also created a contraption the young man called a “basketball hoop.” Only Padriag used that.
At that moment, the men listened with interest as Gavin told them about his brief visit.
“So you’re saying, Sabrina, the enchantress, is not affected by your looks?” Padriag gaped at him, eyebrows raised. “Well, there’s a first. I can’t believe it. Mental!” He made strange gestures on both sides of his head as if mimicking explosions.
Used to the young knight’s use of modern English, Gavin nodded. “Aye, if anything, I swear the lass utterly dislikes me.” He leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms.
“That is really a problem for you,” Liam sneered at him. The English knight shook his head looking around the room at the other men. “Why are we wasting time on this drivel? You have the power of seduction, Gavin. Obviously next time you return, that is what you will do. The sooner she falls in love with you, the sooner your enchantment ends and the sooner we’re rid of you.”
Everything about the Englishman grated. Gavin leaned forward while replying through clenched teeth. “The sooner I stop seeing your pale face on a daily basis, the better my life will be as well.”
“Guys?” Padriag waved his hands until they turned towards him. “Gavin, how does Tristan fare?”
“He fares well,” Gavin replied recalling the way Tristan and Gwyneth exchanged loving looks. “Verra well actually. I truly believe he is in love. But he is not as happy as we would think. He’s not stopping long enough to be at peace. Instead, he’s working diligently to free us. I could tell by his demeanor, he carries a heavy burden of guilt, at being the first one free.”
“Any progress that ye can tell?” Niall asked, his gaze moving to each of them. “I wish each of ye can be freed soon.”
Gavin started to remark that he, too, should be freed, but he decided against it. Niall had no wish to be freed. He’d lost his family, a wife and children upon being trapped. Of them all, he’d lost the most.
“There is a third sister.” That got all their attention, the men began speaking at once until Niall held his hand up signaling they should return their attention to Gavin.
“Tabitha, the youngest sister, is in America. Sabrina alluded to summoning her to Scotland. Although I was gone hours from here, I was only there a matter of minutes, and was not able to find out when she will arrive.”
“Why did I not know about this?” Liam asked.
Padriag frowned. “I believe Tristan mentioned it once in passing. She’s not an enchantress if I remember correctly.”
“Whether she is or not, in Sabrina’s opinion, she could be part of the key to breaking our enchantment,” Gavin clarified.
“Three sisters,” Padriag whispered. “We should find out if they have female cousins. Who’s to say there isn’t a lass for each of us?” At his comment the men chuckled.
“I believe Tabitha will be my enchantress,” Padriag announced.
“Is that so,” Gavin asked him, the young knight making him smile. “What if she’s the ugly sister? There can’t possibly be three fair sisters.”
Not dissuaded, Padriag stood up and bowed to a chair. “My dear enchantress, Tabitha Lockhart, I am Sir Padriag Clarre, your knight in shining armor.”
Gavin shook his head at the young man’s antics. Even Niall broke into a rare smile. Liam, however, glowered at them, before getting up and walking towards the doorway.
“Perhaps the enchantress is for you,” Gavin said to the Englishman. “Some women prefer a man who writes poetry and plucks flowers.” Liam’s body tensed.
“Nah, once she learns my sword is broader, I will be the next to be saved by a willing woman,” Padriag said, a broad smile split his face as he joined Gavin in poking fun at Liam.
“Perhaps broader, but not as long.” Liam replied, still not turning, his irritation evident. The Englishman never seemed to take jests well. Gavin considered it the curse of being English.
“Ah, but you see,” Padriag continued, “the sisters prefer real men. Scottish men. If I need to keep an eye out for any competition, my attention is on Niall.”
At the comment Niall huffed noncommittally.
“I believe you’re right Padriag,” Gavin told him. “The lasses do prefer true men.”
When Liam tackled him, Gavin was not caught by surprise. The Englishman had a terrible giveaway. He always stomped his foot, prior to attacking. Gavin was able to roll on contact, hooking his arm around Liam, sending the Brit flying across the room.
When Liam landed, he immediately jumped up, this time with a different target in mind. Unlike Gavin, Padriag was caught unaware, busy laughing at Liam’s first attack. They rolled across the floor, a tangle of arms and legs. After a couple of punches were thrown by each of them, Gavin and Niall stepped in and pulled them apart.
Niall grabbed Padriag up in a bear hug as the young red-faced knight yelled obscenities at Liam.
“What the fuck is wrong with you Brit? You need someone to kick your ass good. You need to learn to take a joke,” Padriag yelled, then gave up struggling.
Liam twisted out of Gavin’s grasp, turning to him, obviously still quite angry. “Who says I’m not the one that should be visiting the fair Sabrina? Maybe it’s time I go. I have much to tell her about her ‘knight.’ Tell me Campbell, how do you plan to engage in lovemaking when ye can’t bear to be touched sexually?”
He barely got the last word out when Gavin’s fist connected with his gut and Liam bent over letting out a loud grunt.
“That is enough.” Niall turned at Gavin. “I don’t know why you and Liam hate each other so. The Brit allows his temper to get the best of him, and you let his words get to you.”
Both Liam and Gavin glared at each other, breaking eye contact to look at Niall, who seemed to deflate. “We may never leave here. Here we have little control over anything. No matter what we do, little good it does.”
The Scot’s black hair reflected the flames as Niall stooped to stoke the wood in the fireplace. Over the years, they’d grown to understand each other as much as they knew themselves, whether it was Niall’s continuous grief or Padriag’s lighthearted way of dealing with the entrapment. Then there was Liam, who used anger as a shield to keep his true emotions at bay. As for himself, Gavin blocked all thoughts of his past by concentrating on filling each day with whatever activity he could. Despite hating Meliot and the useless quests he sent them on, it was a respite from the taxing task of blocking out memories of the past.
Gavin went to stand next to Niall. “If I am to be next in the sequence of leaving, then I am not sure how it will happen. It means Sabrina must fall in love with me. Then there is the other part. The power of seduction is only physical.”
“Love is not all physical Gavin, but it is a big part of it. Wait and see, until the time comes. I am sure it will become clear,” Niall replied and met his gaze. “Whatever the other portion is, together you will find a way.”
He suppressed a shudder and blew out a breath. “Padriag should be next to leave, not me. I do not think to be able...”
Being touched was tolerable, but the mere thought of a woman's seducing touch shattered him, dragging him back to a dark past where survival meant using violence as his only defense.
Niall kept his attention at the fire. “I understand that there are reasons why the curse was placed on you, but with the right spells and wards, many things can be overcome.”
Gavin lowered his head.
The curse seemed simple to overcome.
The deepest love your lover has ever known.
An intimate touch that reaches the soul.
Surrendering total and complete freedom over your body,
offering yourself freely, without hesitation or compulsion.
Find your truth in the transformation.
For years before the enchantment, he’d been celibate. The thought of a lover’s touch was unfathomable.
A fate he’d accepted, but now, it could stand in the way of the other men’s freedom.