Page 54 of Dorchad

As Tair listened to his chieftain report on his late night confrontation with the dark Fae queen, the light outside thinned. He walked over to peer out at the skies over the loch, which had darkened with big, billowing black clouds laced with bright bursts of lightning. Such came from his anger, but he couldn’t calm himself. The immortal monarch had once more come to threaten his clan, and now she expected them to hunt her thieving consort as well.

“We must find the cluet, if only to forever banish that evil harlot from our world,” he muttered.

Cath suddenly came in, his trews wet to the knees, and bowed quickly. “My lord, Chieftain. We’ve a dark Fae roaming the banks of the loch and prodding the ground with black crystal.”

“She said her hunter had reported that Osgan yet lived,” Dorchad put in. “That must be him. If he goes to the village to question the mortals there–”

“–we shall see the village and all who dwell there burnt to ashes.” Tair wanted to find a jug of whiskey, but instead told one of the guards, “Find my lady wife and bring her to me.” To Cath he said, “Ready the garrison and double the watchers and the patrols. We protect our mortals first. Then assemble the best of our trackers.”

“Aye, my lord.” The war master bowed and left.

Dorchad came to join him at the window. “The queen did more than issue a new demand. She became infatuated at once with Rebecca, and tried to seduce us both. ’Twas all I could do to resist her.”

Tair scrubbed a hand over his face before he eyed his second, and noted the high color in his usually pale face. “How did the healer refuse her?”

“I dinnae ken for certain.” Dorchad ducked his head. “Mayhap ’tis that she fancies herself in love with me.”

He and Lucy hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other from the start, Tair recalled, and realized nearly the same thing had happened with his second and the healer. “You’re certain that you didnae wish for the lady, Chieftain?”

“Never once.” Dorchad said it with absolute conviction. “You ken how females regard me, and I’ve no time for them.”

Tair glanced at the chieftain’s grim expression. “Yet you brought the healer to your bed. You desired a female like her before she came to us? Mayhap pondered what ’twould be like, having a woman with her nature as yours?”

Dorchad thought for a moment, and then gave him a bleak look. “Before she came I’d been plagued by dreams. In them I sought what I ken I’d never possess—a lover who embraced my darkness. A woman just like Rebecca. I cannae recall making a wish in the dream, but my longing, ’twas persistent.”

He nodded. “If the cluet played your coverlet that night, and somehow entered your dream, then ’twould explain why it brought her back to you.”

His second rammed his fist into the stone wall beside the window, making stone shards fly out to pelt his face.

“We shall find that facking rag,” Tair promised him, handing him a kerchief to wrap around his bleeding knuckles. “For now, we must track the queen’s hunter, and assure he doesnae lay waste to the mortals dwelling near the loch. We must also keep him off the island. Go and aid Cath with the men.”

“Aye, my lord.” Dorchad bowed and left.

A few minutes later Lucy hurried in, worry plain in her pretty green eyes. She didn’t say a word but ran into his arms and held him tightly.

Tair lifted her off her feet and carried her over to his chair, where he sat with her on his lap. She lay her cheek over his heart, and stroked his arm with her hand. As ever she soothed him just with her presence; soon the booming thunder stopped and some sunlight returned to the chamber.

He kissed the top of her head. “You’re better for me than whiskey, Wife.”

“We’re in a spot of bother again, aren’t we?” she asked as she lifted her chin and met his gaze.

“The dark Fae queen near stole my second and Healer McIan last night,” he told her. “That facking rag took them from the stronghold and near dropped them at her feet in the south meadow before it vanished.”

“Why would it do that?” When he frowned she added, “The cluet’s a jobsworth. It only cares about fulfilling wishes, and it sticks to the rules governing that. If it wanted to make the queen happy, why wouldn’t it go back to her on its own?”

“Och, now I ken. ’Twasnae about the queen or what she desired.” As the scheme came clear to him he marveled at the cluet’s daring. “The cloth brought Healer McIan here to give Dorchad the woman of his dreams. She’s embraced all his darkness. She then proved her love by choosing him over the greatest temptation in existence: the dark Fae queen.”

“Rebecca must truly love him.” Lucy’s expression turned thoughtful. “That makes wishes granted for two MacRune who wanted women they could love.”

“Aye.” He kissed her on the mouth. “How did I find such a canny wench as you?”

“The cluet delivers.” She grinned, and then drew his head down to press her cheek against his. “I have an idea.”

Rebecca woke from an exhausted sleep, finding herself yet again alone in the chieftain’s bed. This time she didn’t mind, for as the memories of the fantastic events of the night came back to her she bundled herself in the bed linens, pulling them over her head and shivering. The dark Fae queen’s incredible appearance, and the erotic magic she’d wielded over her and Dorchad, had been mind-blowing. Only by holding onto her love for her man had she been able to stay calm and refuse the immortal monarch. Tears stung her eyes, but she wouldn’t cry again. They had survived an impossibly dangerous encounter, thanks to their connection.

He doesn’t want to call it love, but that’s what he showed me last night.

Finally she made herself get up, wash and dress. She wasn’t very hungry, so she decided to skip the morning meal and get on with her day. The first stop she made on the way to the infirmary was to look in on Sheona. She found Garia patiently helping the injured maid, who scowled at her when she greeted them.