Page 132 of Dark Rival

The blow took him by surprise, sending him flying through the air. He landed hard on his back by the door, but did not drop his sword. And as Kael’s sword descended, his own weapon yielded uselessly and Kael’s blade rent his shoulder, all the way through muscle and bone.

He knew if he let the ghost-woman distract him another time, he might very well die. A terrible battle began, in which there would be but one victor. He rolled away as Kael blasted him with more energy, the second blow as stunning as the first. Pushed against the wall, he felt Kael’s sword coming, and this time, he struck viciously upward and steel met steel. Metal screeched, rang. He leapt to his feet, bleeding heavily but in no pain.

He was hurled backward into the wall again. As he crashed there, he gathered his wits at last. For now, there was only him and Kael—the deamhan who had tortured his bride.

“A Brigdhe,” he roared. And he struck at Kael with all the power he had.

Kael was hurled backward across the entire hall. He landed not far from Brigdhe. Ruari pursued. As Kael rose, he struck hard and deep into the deamhan’s inhuman heart.

Brigdhe screamed.

Savagely triumphant, he dropped the sword, lifted Kael by his neck with his two hands, and he snapped it easily, cruelly, in two.

His head hanging uselessly, Kale snarled at him. “Your suffering just begins.” His red eyes ceased glowing, becoming lifeless.

He could not understand the words and did not even care to. A terrible pain finally arising in his shoulder, he ran to his wife. But now, the demonic evil gone from the hall, he became aware of the pure power that was taking over the space within the four walls. He still did not understand it, but it was tangible and intense, somehow beckoning. It somehow pulled at him; he wanted to turn and discover it…her.

Royce.

He turned all of his attention on his wife. Brigdhe needed him, not the ghost-woman. She had needed him for days and he had failed to rescue her until now. He had failed in his duty to his wife. Nothing was as reprehensible. She sat with her back to the wall, and when he knelt, she recoiled. He stopped himself from reaching for her. She cried, “Don’t touch me!”

Now wary, he eased back. Of course she was frightened still. “T’is over now. I’ll take ye far from here,” he said.

“No.”

He tensed, searching her eyes, but she wouldn’t look at him now. “I’m sorry, Brigdhe,” he said grimly, meaning his every word. “I will find a way to make ye forget this terrible time.”

“Sorry?” Her tone was scathing and hatred filled her eyes. “Get away from me. He did this to me because of you. Stay away from me!”

Her words delivered the blow that Kael had not been able to wield. He tried to breathe and failed. She was right. Kael had used his bride against him. He had vowed to protect Innocence, but he hadn’t even been able to protect his own wife. Being a Master was now irrelevant; what kind of man did that make him? Guilt came, crushing him with its terrible weight. He had done this to her.

In that instant, his marriage ended. Brigdhe must never be endangered by him again. He did not blame her for hating him; if he dared to think upon it, he might realize he hated himself, too.

“Can ye stand?” he asked roughly. He refused to tolerate any sorrow now. He would only allow the guilt.

“Dinna think to help me now,” she cried furiously.

He stood and stepped aside, allowing Brogan, who had just appeared, to lift her and carry her from the hall. He followed them, but only to the door, and stared after them. Although he was determined to be a soldier, shame began and joined the festering guilt. How could he make this up to her? He watched Elasaid kneel beside Brigdhe, Brogan having placed her on a pallet on the ground. Reassured she would be well cared for, he slowly turned to the empty hall.

Royce. Help me. Please.

His eyes went wide. He’d heard the woman as clear as day. Now that the battle was over, Brigdhe safe at last and being attended, he felt her wrenching fear.

My spell won’t last much longer.

His eyes widened. It was as if she was speaking to him directly. Was she a witch?

“Ruari,” MacNeil said tersely, his tone one of command.

Ruari was certain he was in for a severe set-down, as he had been warned—ordered—not to hunt Kael alone. “Nay now,” he said, not even looking at him. He scanned the hall slowly, looking into every shadowed corner. “Did ye hear the woman?”

“Aye.”

And he saw a trapdoor set in the floor. He rushed to the door and lifted it, hearing the hissing of snakes. “Get me a torch!” he called.

MacNeil ran outside.

Ruari didn’t wait; he leapt down into the black hole. The woman’s fear consumed him, and with no difficulty, he turned and found her huddled against one earthen wall.