9
Fergus dreamedof a storm of uncommon ferocity.Dark clouds tumbled across the night sky toward Killairic, lightning bolts erupting from their bellies as the wind rose to a tempest.He cried out a warning, but his words were snatched away, just as the pennant at the summit of Killairic’s tower was ripped free.
The cloud descended with fury upon the keep, the rain hammering upon its roof.The moat was flooded by the onslaught and he saw both children and animals swept away.The mill was deluged and the nets containing the eels were broken.Buildings and roofs collapsed, and stores of grain were claimed by the river that was consuming the keep.All the wealth of Killairic was flowing down to the firth and there was nothing Fergus could do to stop it.It seemed that he alone was left to stand fast against the storm.
Horses shrieked as lightning struck the high tower and the roof burst into flame even as the sound of the thunder made the ground shake beneath his feet.He saw the glow of the fire descending into the tower, doubtless igniting the stairs and the floors as it journeyed to the heart of the keep.
He heard the screams of those trapped within the keep, caught between fire and water, but he could only watch the destruction of all his father had built.He raced through the village, seizing one child or another, each one torn from his grasp.He tried to dam the flow of the water, but the raging stream leaped every barrier he created.He tried to reach those in the keep, but water kept him from them.
Where was Leila?
Where was his father?
Where was the reliquary he had vowed to defend?
It was a horrific nightmare and Fergus knew in his heart that this was the threat he had dreaded since Jerusalem.The complete loss of his home and his legacy, his wife and his family, never mind his own inability to save any of it, was his worst fear come true.He felt powerless and was infuriated by his own failure to defend what mattered most to him.
He roared in his fury and tried again to reach the portal to the keep.The dark cold waters rolled over him and drove him beneath the surface.When he rose sputtering, he had been swept downstream and the water was carrying him onward.He could not even touch the bottom, and he could not swim in the deluge.He was flung against some obstacle with such vigor that the breath was forced from him, then he took a mouthful of river water.Someone hauled him to the shore, someone with a fierce grip.He shook the water out of his eyes to find Isobel bending over him, her eyes shining with triumph.
“Mine,” she said with force, then opened her mouth.He saw her tongue become an asp and she laughed at his horror.She gestured to the sky and another bolt of lightning struck distant Killairic, setting the protective wall afire before Fergus’ eyes.
“A man can only love once,” she told him, her eyes shining in a way he did not trust.“And you swore to loveme.”
Then she kissed him, her mouth locking over his as if she would claim his very soul.Fergus fought against her unholy grip and flung her aside, astonished that he could have erred so greatly.
“Isobel!”he shouted in anguish, wishing he could change the past.
He awakened, cold sweat on his back and his heart racing, the linens clenched in his fists.
“Fergus,” Leila whispered, her small hands upon his shoulders.She shook him.“Fergus!You are safe.”
She was right.
Fergus exhaled.He was in the solar at Killairic, safe and warm, the candles gutted and the fires in the braziers burning low.The rain pattered lightly on the roof, the fury of the earlier storm passed, and he took a steadying breath.
And his wife was beside him, concern in her eyes.Fergus took Leila’s hand in his and kissed her knuckles, willing his heart to slow.“It was only a dream,” he said with relief.“I am sorry I awakened you.”
Leila smiled and said that it was naught.Still shaken, Fergus drew her against his warmth and nestled them both beneath the covers and pelts, savoring the sweet curve of her against him.He remembered his dream with perfect clarity and wondered what it meant.How could Isobel put Killairic at risk?She was no sorceress and he could not dispel the image of the snake.
His dream—or perhaps his guardian angel—was telling him that Isobel was untrustworthy and Fergus knew better than to ignore a warning such as that.
Leila could not sleepafter Fergus’ dream.She lay with him, his arm around her waist, listening as his breathing slowed.
Isobel.
He had called out for Isobel.
Which meant that Leila had hoped for too much too soon.She thought Fergus had changed his thinking about his former betrothed, that his journey to Dunnisbrae had strengthened his resolve to make their handfast a success.She assumed that Isobel was happy in her match, or that she had spurned him, or that something had occurred to dismiss Fergus’ regard for the other woman upon seeing her again.
But still Isobel claimed his dreams.
Perhaps his passion this night had been fueled by the sight of his beloved and was not prompted by Leila.The notion was a disturbing one, as was the possibility that she was mistaken in her understanding of her husband.She felt in the darkness of the night that she had wedded a stranger and cast her life down a path fraught with uncertainties.
Sleep was impossible.Leila recalled every observation, every word, every gesture, seeking a solution to the riddle of winning her husband’s heart.What was the root of Fergus’ terror?That he would lose his beloved forever?Leila could not bear to think about it, and yet she could not cease to think of it.It seemed that her efforts to gain allies at Killairic and make a new home in this place were doomed to failure, if Fergus could not see her merit.
Would she win the loyalty of his father, of his smith, of those in his village, but not his own regard?It was an unreasonable possibility.What if she was already with child?Leila considered her future and did not care for the view.
Leila had never been one overly inclined to prayer and certainly she had been remiss in her routine on the journey from Jerusalem.But she had to believe that Calum’s gift had been a timely reminder.She would continue to fight for her desire and to take steps toward its achievement, but she had need of strength for the battle.
