CHAPTER 14 #3
“I cannot be everything to you,” she informed him coldly. She shoved his hand away and stepped back. “I am a witch, and I need no one. Do you understand? Now stop being such a fool and ride away, before Robert hacks your mad head from your body!”
Alex regarded her a long moment. She was pretending indifference, but her gray eyes were glittering with fear and her hands were gripping her cloak so tightly her knuckles looked like tiny bleached pebbles beneath the taut skin.
“Come, MacDunn,” Robert called out gleefully, waving his sword in the air. “I haven’t got all night, you know.”
A brilliant flash of lightning creased the sky.
“Trust me, Gwendolyn,” Alex urged softly, ignoring Robert. “I vowed to protect you, and I will. Not because you belong to me,” he added, seeing her about to protest. “But because without you, I am lost.”
Tears dripped down her cheeks. “If you care at all about me, then you will turn and ride away before he kills you.”
Alex swung himself down from his horse. “Just try to keep the rain off awhile longer,” he said, unsheathing his sword. “I do dislike fighting in the rain.” He winked at her, then turned and walked toward Robert.
“At last.” Robert held his sword out before him.
“Really, Robert, I never knew you were so fond of fighting,” said Alex, leaning casually against his own weapon. “Did you not receive enough attention as a lad?”
“Try to distract me if you wish,” retorted Robert, slowly circling him. “It will not affect the outcome of this battle.”
“Ah, yes, Gwendolyn has told me that you are now invincible. Seems to me that takes some of the amusement out of swordplay.”
“Believe me, MacDunn, the fact that I know you are about to die does not mar the perfection of this moment in the slightest,” Robert assured him, moving closer.
Alex meticulously adjusted one of the pleats in his plaid. “I’m delighted that you’re enjoying yourself. Just let me know when you are ready to begin.”
“We have already begun, you mad fool!” Robert snapped. “Prepare to die!” He charged toward him.
Alex made a final, minor modification to the drape of his mantle, then raised his sword just in time to deflect Robert’s powerful blow.
The crash of steel filled the night, with silver sparks exploding into the air each time the sharp edges of their blades met.
The two warriors were more than equally matched, for Alex met Robert’s thrusts blow for blow, driving him back a few steps before Robert forced Alex to relinquish some ground.
Lightning webbed the black cloak of sky around them, punctuating the clang of metal with a deafening crash and drowning the hard grunts the warriors made as each struggled to gain the advantage.
“You cannot win, MacDunn,” Robert ground out, trying to wrest Alex’s sword from him. “You might as well surrender and let me finish you off quickly.”
“That’s exceptionally gallant of you, Robert,” observed Alex. “Forgive me if I seem ungrateful, but I do enjoy a good fight now and again.”
“As you wish.” Robert sliced down suddenly, raking the edge of his sword across Alex’s chest.
Hot blood leaked down his torso and seeped into his shirt.
“You see?” said Robert, smiling as he surveyed the damage. “You cannot best me, MacDunn. I am unconquerable.”
“So you keep saying,” returned Alex, clenching his jaw as the pain burned through his chest. “But if that is so, Robert, why are you taking so long to kill me? Surely as ruler of Scotland you have far more urgent matters to attend to.” He frowned.
“Could it be that stone you’re clutching is nothing but a pretty pendant? ”
Robert roared with rage and charged toward him.
Alex held his sword low, then raised it in a powerful arc at the last moment, propelling Robert’s weapon to the side as Alex swiftly slashed at his upper arm.
Robert howled with pain and staggered back, staring in confusion at the scarlet stream racing down toward his wrist.
“If you wish, we can stop and have Gwendolyn take a look at that for you,” Alex offered graciously. “I think you’ll find she’s exceptionally handy with a needle and a few strands of hair.”
“I’m going to kill you!”
“As you wish,” said Alex, shrugging. “Let us continue.”
Gwendolyn watched in mute horror as the two men raised their swords and began again, each hacking at the other with savage determination.
Despite Alex’s affected bravado, she could see that he was not impervious to the wound in his chest, for each time he lifted his sword he winced, and his shirt grew dark and heavy with blood.
Still he crashed his sword against Robert’s blade again and again, forcing his opponent to dance backward.
Moonlight spilled in a pale aura over the two warriors, etching them in a ghostly light as they battled amid the ancient stones.
“You have fought well, MacDunn,” Robert admitted, breathing heavily. “However, as you have pointed out, I have more important matters to attend to. The time has come for you to die.”
Alex immediately lowered his sword and stepped back. “Very well, then, Robert. Do what you will.”
Gripping his sword in both hands, Robert let out a triumphant roar and charged forward, his eyes afire with victory.
Please God, pleaded Gwendolyn, her heart shattering, please God, don’t let him die.
Alex held his ground, waiting until the last second.
And then he suddenly spun aside and drove his own sword deep into Robert’s gut.
“No,” said Robert, staring in astonishment at the cold strip of silver disappearing into his belly. He raised his eyes to Alex. “It cannot be. I—I cannot be defeated. I am invincible.”
“Forgive me, Robert,” said Alex, “but you must have been mistaken about that.” He yanked his sword from Robert’s stomach, releasing a gush of scarlet onto the ground.
“You have not won, MacDunn,” Robert said through gritted teeth.
He raised his blood-drenched fingers to his mouth and managed a shrill whistle.
“My men will enjoy hacking both of you to pieces,” he spat, clutching his bleeding belly as he sank to his knees.
“But first they will use you like a whore,” he finished, casting a vicious smile at Gwendolyn.
She glanced fearfully at the crest of the hill, waiting for Robert’s warriors to thunder into sight.
No one appeared.
Alex sighed. “Unfortunately, I believe your men are otherwise engaged,” he said apologetically. “I hope you don’t mind, but I asked my men to keep them entertained while I visited with you.”
Undiluted rage contorted Robert’s pain-clenched face. He gripped the jewel in his fist, as if trying to squeeze some last drop of strength from it.
Alex sheathed his bloodied sword and turned to face Gwendolyn.
“Come, Gwendolyn,” he said gently, holding his hand out to her. “It is time to—”
“No!” she screamed, her eyes wide with terror.
Alex turned just in time to see Robert on his feet, slicing his raised sword toward Alex’s head. He instinctively reached for his own weapon, knowing he could never liberate it before Robert cleaved his skull.
Fly, commanded Gwendolyn, locking her gaze on Robert’s discarded dirk. Fly into his back and kill him.
Lightning lashed across the sky, and for one agonizing moment everything froze.
“My God,” Robert murmured, his sword locked in midair. He stared at Gwendolyn a long moment, as if he had never really seen her before.
And then he collapsed onto the ground, the hilt of his dirk protruding from his back.
Gwendolyn raised her hand to her mouth as she stared in horror at Robert’s lifeless body. She searched the darkness beyond, looking for the warrior who had found the dirk and hurled it through the air.
There was no one.
Horrified, she dropped her gaze to Robert once more. A dark stain was rapidly soaking the fabric of his shirt.
“I—I didn’t mean to,” she stammered.
“I know,” Alex said quietly. He stooped and retrieved the stone from Robert’s grasp.
She shook her head, struggling to understand what she had done. “He was going to kill you and…I couldn’t bear it. I had to stop him.” She began to tremble. “It was just a thought. I didn’t think it would actually happen.”
“You saved my life. And you needed to call upon your powers to do it.”
“I don’t have any powers, MacDunn!” she objected desperately. “I never have. I let you believe that I did because I was afraid you would send me back to the MacSweens if you knew the truth, but…I am not really a witch.”
Alex wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, heedless of the bloody wound in his chest. “You’re wrong, my love,” he murmured, grazing his fingers against her tearstained cheek.
“You have powers that you have inherited through the women of your line. Your mother did not have them, but you do. And that is why your mother entrusted you with this stone,” he explained, placing the chain around her neck.
“It does not grant wishes, as you and Robert believed. It is to keep the gifted girls of your line safe, until their powers have matured.”
“No,” she protested, shivering. “You’re wrong.”
“Think, Gwendolyn,” he urged, gently stroking her hair. “You conjured up a storm the night I asked you to demonstrate your abilities to me…”
“That was just a coincidence—”
“…and then you made it pour rain when Robert set the cottages afire…”
“That storm was coming anyway—I didn’t start it—”
“Then how do you explain that dirk in Robert’s back?” he demanded quietly.
“I don’t know!” she cried, burying her head against his shoulder. “It just happened!”
“Hush, now,” he soothed, tightening his hold on her as he caressed her back. “It’s all right, my love. You’re safe now.”
Gwendolyn wept against him as he held her.
All her life she had been accused of being a witch, but there had been a modicum of solace in knowing that these allegations were false, even if she was the only one who knew it.
Yet she could not deny the powerful sensation that had swept through her as she commanded Robert’s dirk to kill him.