She reached out an arm, making a crushing gesture with her fingers and Emeric’s bow suddenly caught fire with a whoosh of flame. He yelled, startled, and staggered back, releasing the bow which clattered to the floor as a pile of blackened charcoal fragments.
Emeric stared in shock at Lady Maria. “Ye are one of them! A Fae!”
Maria’s sneer only widened, her teeth gleaming in the chapel’s dim light. “So slow to catch on, Mackintosh. Aye, I am of the Fae. And ye are of the Order of the Osprey. And so here we are to do our little dance once again. It pleases me that my bloodline will be the ones to end yer precious Order.”
Emeric’s expression grew grim. “Yer kind have tried many times already, Unseelie. And ye have failed every time. This one will be no different.”
He drew his claymore from its scabbard across his back. The blade sang as it was drawn, a beautiful and deadly melody that echoed in the chapel’s depths. “Ye have no power over me,” he said. “And I dinna fear ye.”
Maria’s laughter filled the room. “Aye, that’s what they all say in the beginning.” She drew herself up to her full height, her eyes blazing with an unnatural light as she flexed her fingers. “Come then. Dance with me, Mackintosh.”
Emeric growled, raised his sword two-handed and stepped towards Maria. But as he did so, another blade came swinging at him from the left and he was forced to pivot, bringing his own weapon up to block the blow. The two swords met with a metallic clang that echoed through the chapel.
Anna gasped. Laird MacDonald blocked his path. He wielded a sword of ancient design, an imposing weapon decorated with Celtic knotwork that shimmered strangely in the light.
“Ye come into my home,” Laird MacDonald hissed, his arms straining as the two men pushed against each other. “Bring an army to my gates and attack my family. Ye have started a war, Mackintosh!”
“It was started long before this,” Emeric growled back. “It was started the moment ye thought ye could take Anna from me. If ye want war, then ye shall have it. Not even ye can withstand the Mackintosh and Murrays together.”
Anna saw the laird’s eyes widen slightly and Emeric laughed sardonically. “Oh, aye, I know all about yer invasion plan. And so do the Murrays.”
“Ha!” Lady Maria shouted from where she was watching avidly from the other side of the room. “I told ye that was a terrible plan! Well, it no longer matters. We have all we need. Now stop dallying and finish him! We have a wedding to conclude!”
In response, Laird Alexander gave a mighty heave against Emeric’s blade and then spun away, staggering as they disentangled. It took only an instant to regain his footing and then, with a speed that defied his age, he lunged at Emeric, his sword slicing through the air with deadly intent.
Anna’s heart leapt into her mouth. Emeric barely had time to bring up his own weapon in defense, steel clashing against steel as their swords met. Emeric ducked and weaved, his movements fluid as he parried and counterattacked with incredible agility. But MacDonald was no less skilled. His taller frame gave him greater reach, forcing Emeric to defend rather than attack.
Pressing herself against the wall, Anna watched with wide eyes as the two men exchanged blows. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she watched Emeric fight for their lives.
She had to do something. But what?
Maria was on the far side of the room. Her eyes were shining and a small smile curled her mouth as she watched the violence. She was enjoying it. What kind of woman was she?
Not a woman at all. A creature of dark power. How long before she decided to use that power against Emeric? What could she do to help? Her gaze landed on the altar. On the marble slab lay a chalice, made of silver and carved with knotwork.
Anna sprinted towards it. The cool metal of the chalice tingled against her skin as she gripped it firmly, took a breath, then turned and flung it with all her might at Laird MacDonald.
Her aim was good. It whacked him in the back of the head. He grunted and staggered, losing his balance.
Emeric seized his chance. He swung his blade, caught the crossguards of MacDonald’s sword with his own, and yanked the weapon out of the laird’s hands. It went sailing over the other side of the chapel and clanged against the flagstone floor.
Laird MacDonald’s eyes widened. “Now, wait a minute! I can—”
Emeric hammered his elbow into MacDonald’s temple. The older man’s eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped unconscious to the floor. Emeric leaned on his sword, panting heavily. Then he straightened, looking around for Anna.
“Emeric!” She launched herself across the chapel at him.
He dropped his sword to catch her and suddenly his arms were around her, holding her tightly.
“Anna,” he breathed into her hair. “Are ye all right?”
“I’m fine,” she answered, her voice muffled against his sweat-soaked tunic. “But we have to get out of here.”
The sound of clapping reverberated throughout the chamber. Maria stepped forward, an amused smile curling her lips.
“Oh well done. That was quite the show. Ye two make a formidable team. It’s a shame ye work for the other side, Emeric. We could make use of someone of yer talents. If ye came over to us, I might even let ye keep Anna.”
Anna felt a chill race down her spine but she stood her ground, gripping Emeric’s hand tighter in silent support.
