Ulfr, meanwhile, would have this one last chance to be of good use. With some well-placed suggestions, he might even be able to instigate the actions that would point to his own replacement. And after he returned, whether through his observations or through Christiana’s Vision travel, Torquil would name his new champion.
OceanofPDF.com
Eleven
SHE HAD INVADEDhis dreams every night since the gates of Tordenet had first closed behind him. Though tonight was no exception, the dream itself was altogether different.
Chase peered down into the face of the woman clasped against him, her body warm and willing under his.
“Christiana.”
He breathed her name, savoring the feel of it on his lips. Her eyes opened and he plunged into their depths. Falling, falling, adrenaline pumping, the air rushing past his ears. He’d experienced this feeling before, every time he’d jumped from the belly of a Chinook copter, and again during the earthquake that sent him hurtling back...
As though a bucket of cold water had hit him in the face, he was suddenly wide awake, his breathing heavy, his body aching with unfulfilled need.
No way he’d be able to get back to sleep now.
As quietly as possible he stood and slipped his feet into his boots, then wrapped his plaid aroundhim. With his shirt clasped in his hand, he slipped through the door and out into the night.
The cold stung his senses, which was exactly what he needed right now.
He slid into his shirt and wrapped the end of his plaid over his head and shoulders, thinking, not for the first time, about the practicality of the garment.
His gaze was drawn to the far side of bailey, to the tower perched in dark relief against the stone wall. A tiny shard of light wavered from the top window.
Was she awake? Had she dreamed of him, as he’d dreamed of her? He could no more put her from his waking thoughts than he could from his dreams.
This was what he’d come to. Lusting after a woman he barely knew. He rubbed a hand over his face, unable to pull his gaze from the orange flicker in the distance.
That limb must have hit his head a whole lot harder than he’d thought, as Halldor was so fond of saying. Either that or getting jerked through seven hundred years had seriously messed him up.
“A warrior who cannot sleep is a warrior who cannot fight.”
“I can always fight,” Chase responded, somehow not surprised that Halldor had joined him.
“There’s a change on the wind tonight,” his friend said quietly after a time. “Is it that which keeps you awake?”
“Maybe.” He’d much rather let his friend thinkthat was the problem, than confide his fantasizing over Christiana MacDowylt like he was some thirteen-year-old who’d just discovered girls. “You expect it to snow?”
“Snow?” Surprise sounded in Halldor’s voice. “I suppose that is possible as well, though that was not where my thoughts carried me.”
The tower window went dark and Chase finally turned to face his friend. “Then where are your thoughts?”
“They are in this place, little brother. Things are not as they seem here.”
Chase shook his head, wondering exactly what his friend meant. “They are as they seem if you believe this is a powerful man gearing up for war. Over half the men I’ve spoken to are newly hired mercenaries, just like us. Our employer is planning to take someone down. Hard.”
“I do not speak of that. At least not just that. Look around you. Feel this place. There’s a great violence dwelling here.”
“It’s a violent time.” Chase opted for a cavalier note as he turned his gaze up to the starlit sky, but he knew as soon as he uttered the words they were meaningless. He had personal knowledge that people would always be so. “We’re a violent race.”
“Open your eyes, little brother. Open your heart. There’s more than the violence of men in this place. Evil dwells here.”
More than most, Chase understood that therewas a modicum of truth in many of the strange beliefs held by ancient peoples. That didn’t mean, however, that he was a practitioner of those beliefs.
“Not one of my talents, I’m afraid. I don’t ‘feel’ things.” At least nothing other than a warning tingle up the back of his neck that had more than once saved his life.
“You must believe me when I tell you that there are men who possess extraordinary gifts of power. Gifts such as the ones that live deeply trapped within your own soul. You’ve but to tap into them and set them free. Our first day here, you spoke of the ‘vibes’ you felt when we entered this place. You credit yourself far too little.”
