Page 26 of The Last Knight

Chapter Ten

When Gunther materialized in Scotland, the world came into sharp, vivid focus. He didn’t move—not because he was afraid, but because something held him fast. Looking down, he found himself encircled by a glowing ring of salt and glinting gems, a containment spell drawn with meticulous care. Yet, before he even acknowledged the figures standing nearby, he closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. The air was rich and alive; warm sun on fresh grass, the earthy trace of moss, and a trace of sea salt carried on the breeze from the nearby shore. It was the scent of freedom, and yet he was bound.

Upon opening his eyes, he noted he was within sight of Dunimarle Castle. Looking from side to side he took in the men who surrounded him.

Four of the knights, who’d recently escaped the other realm, stood with a variety of weapons that, like them, spanned the centuries.

Tristan and Padriag held swords, whilst Niall McTavish and Liam Murray stood with feet apart, pointing guns at him. Gavin was missing, probably away and unlike in the other realm had to rely on the slower modes of transportation.

“You summoned?” Gunther asked in as calm a voice as he could muster while pushing back the dark powers that surged at being restrained. Despite being quite powerful in the other realm, he wasn’t sure to be as able here.

It was Tristan McRainey who spoke for the group. “Why have you appeared to Miss Macguire twice and asked her to help? Why would you require help from anyone?”

Past Tristan he noted movement at one of the windows. It was too far to see clearly, but undoubtedly, it was the men’s partners keeping watch. Was Aubrey with them? He ached to see her face, to hear her voice encouraging him. At this moment he was utterly alone.

“I asked you a question,” Tristan insisted.

Gunther met the man’s gaze. “I am fighting to leave the other realm and return to this one. I am bound by Meliot’s magic to the Dark Realm and cannot break free on my own.”

A huff got his attention and Gunther looked at Liam. The knight’s disdain was evident in the curl of his upper lip. “I sense darkness. You reek of it. What you wish to do is to spread evil here.”

No matter what he said, the men would never believe him. He didn’t blame them, for centuries they’d been mistreated, tortured and tormented by his predecessor.

“I admit that I do not deserve the benefit of the doubt. As it stands, the only way for me to be released from the throne is by death.”

There was silence as he was sure the men all thought his death was not altogether a bad thing.

“I want to return home. If I am to die, I wish it to be here.” Gunther looked up to the sky. “I am aware there is naught a way to convince you that I wish to bring no harm to this realm.”

Niall spoke next. “You are correct in that. Return to the darkness from which you came and stay there. Do not bother Aubrey again.”

“You should guard her,” Gunther said earning glares all around. “She should be kept safe, not from me, but from whoever succeeds in dethroning me. Aubrey is named in Meliot’s tomes.”

Gunther decided to try one last-ditch effort to convince them of his wish to return to a normal life. He directed his attention to Padriag, the one who he’d help rescue.

“When I helped you, I was not aware of the ramifications, that as the only person present I would absorb the wizard’s powers. I was prepared to stay in the other realm; I deserve no less. However, I do not wish to be fully consumed with the evil that lurks within me now and become overcome by the darkness. That I do not deserve.” He held Padriag’s gaze. “I need your help. Please.”

The allusion to the young knight being indebted to him was left unsaid, but he sensed the man was moved, even if a miniscule bit.

“Even if you are being honest, there are no guarantees that the darkness that resides in you will not follow. Am I right?” When the others grumbled at Padriag’s words, he held a hand up and pinned Gunther with an intense look. “You do not know the answer to that, do you?”

The man was right. Gunther let out a long breath feeling a heaviness push down on him, the sickening voices rising in his head.

“Kill them. Kill them. It will feel so good. You will delight in it. Kill them.”

A heady sense like that of eating the most delightful morsel, of being pleasured, of gentle strokes all over his body felt wonderful and he almost moaned at the evil’s teasing. Summoning strength, he pushed it away and let out harsh breath, his jaw tight.

“No, I have no knowledge if my freedom will bring with it destructive consequences or if I will be able to live a normal life,” he replied.

There didn’t seem to be any softening in the men’s expressions and Gunther felt defeated. He lifted his hands and lowered them in a motion of giving up.

They would not help them and in all probability would keep Aubrey from him as well. He didn’t blame them, if she were his, he would die before allowing someone like him, a man destined to cruelty and madness anywhere near her.

Testing the circle’s hold, Gunther pushed against the invisible walls. Although the magical hold was strong, he was sure he could escape it. He didn’t try, instead, waited for whomever would come, curious to know if Aubrey would be among them.

Standing at the window, Aubrey could not tear her gaze from the view. Although the sash was open to allow for a breeze to blow in, it was impossible to hear the discussion.

In the center of a magical circle, feet planted wide, and shoulders squared, Gunther looked every bit a Viking warrior. The subtle wind blew through his hair, the blond strands playing across his shoulders.