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Midnight Shadow

Page 32

by Laurel O’Donnell

The shock she had initially felt was slowly wearing off. In its place, a fierce anger shrouded her. What right did that man have to think he could just walk into her castle and demand her hand in marriage? Just who did he think he was?

And he killed my friend to achieve it.

The thought of his total lack of regard for life made her cold. But she had known that from the beginning. He overtaxed and all but starved his own people. What kind of lord was he? What kind of man was he?

She pulled through another stitch. It was time someone showed that heartless cur he couldn’t treat people, be they peasant or noble, the way he did and get away with it. It was time to take action.

There would be no more senseless killings. There would be no more injustices to the people of Knowles. Mary would have wanted it that way.

Bria pulled the final stitch through the dark black material and stared at her labor. It was one of her finest works. The sewing was precise and sturdy, reinforced by double stitches.

She set her work on her lap, staring at the dark material. It was perfect. A hooded cloak made of the richest, blackest velvet. Simply perfect.

Exactly what the Midnight Shadow would wear.

Bria stared into Lord Dysen’s watery brown eyes and clasped his old hands tightly, sharing his pain and agony, but her loss could never equal his. He’d lost a son. She’d lost a friend.

He lifted a hand and placed it on her cheek. “God be with you, child,” he whispered, then turned, his great blue cloak flaring out behind him. He exited the double doors of the keep, moving toward the funeral procession awaiting him. Her father stood near Lord Dysen’s horse, waiting to wish him luck. Hunched against the downpour of rain, they clasped arms. Bria watched them stare into each other’s eyes. They needed no words. Their deep friendship sheltered them from much, but the death of Garret wounded them both.

There had been talk of bringing Knowles to justice, but as they’d questioned the squires and the spectators around the tilting field, they learned the challenge had been a fair one and the battle had been fought honorably. Garret’s death had been a horrendous accident; he’d taken a bad fall that had broken his neck. Though all the facts pointed to this, Bria refused to believe it. How could she when Knowles had threatened Garret just moments before the joust?

Her father and Lord Dysen exchanged words, and then Dysen glanced back at Bria, sheltered inside the keep, before mounting his horse and leading the solemn procession toward his homelands.

If no one has the courage to put an end to Knowles’ tyranny, then I will, Bria vowed as she looked at Garret’s coffin resting atop a wooden wagon pulled by two black horses. The conviction she’d felt as she sewed the cloak still burned in her heart, in her very soul. The preparations had been made. All the years of practice with her grandfather would finally be put to use.

Her father walked slowly up the two steps to the keep and to her side. Together they watched the horses and the wagon carrying Garret’s coffin move off through the gatehouse.

Her friend. Tears rose in her eyes as she thought of her betrayal of Garret. She hadn’t believed in him, not since he had faced Kenric those many years ago and lost. Not then. Not now. Because she couldn’t keep her distrust of his skills a secret buried deep in her heart, he had faced Terran... and lost. She was a curse to anyone she called a friend.

Her father brushed a kiss against her temple and moved deeper into the keep.

Bria continued to watch until the procession had moved out of the castle toward the village and finally out of sight. As the Dysen entourage disappeared on the horizon, a fork of lightning erupted in the sky and wormed its way through the darkness, lighting the courtyard.

Across the courtyard, next to the blacksmith’s shop, Bria spotted a dark form. As she watched, another spear of lightning flashed through the sky, washing over Terran Knowles before leaving him in shadow again. Bria’s jaw clenched and she raced out into the blackness of the storm toward him, running beneath the awning sheltering him from the rain.

She stared at him for a long moment, studying his black eyes, the scowl lining his forehead. His thick hair fell wet and heavy over his cheeks. “What are you doing out here?” she demanded. “How dare you offend Garret’s family by spying?”

Terran’s jaw clenched.

“Isn’t it enough that you murdered him? Must you defile his procession, too?”

Terran seized her shoulders and slammed her up against the blacksmith’s shop. “Enough!” he roared. “Enough of your insults. I have endured them from your father and grandfather, even from Dysen. But I will not tolerate them from you.”

Bria’s mouth dropped open for only a moment before her shock vanished, replaced by fury. She opened her mouth to reply, but Terran slammed his open palms on the wall on either side of her.

“I said enough!”

For a long moment, Bria could do nothing but stare at him. And slowly, a realization came to her. She was alone with him. And he was close, very close. His hands were on either side of her, effectively trapping her. His lips were but inches from hers. Her eyes scanned his face, his rugged square jaw, his sensual lips, his dark eyes. Lightning lit the sky above, but Bria barely noticed except for the reflection in his eyes. Was that remorse in them? Or was she imagining it?

He leaned closer to her until his face was beside hers, almost cheek to cheek. Bria stiffened. What was he doing? But she didn’t protest. His hair brushed and mingled with hers. “I didn’t mean to kill him, Bria.”

She felt a soft wave of hot breath on her neck, but his words were so soft Bria wasn’t sure he’d spoken them at all. She turned her head to try to see him, and he shifted his gaze to look into hers with eyes that seemed a little lost.

In the next moment, he was brushing his lips against hers, seeking, exploring. She was unsure of what to do and found herself frozen, half wanting him to kiss her, half wanting to flee. His touch was gentle, almost soothing. Not at all what she had expected.

He pulled slightly back to look into her eyes, studying them as if waiting for her to deny him.

But she couldn’t. She didn’t want to.