Binding Vows
Page 21
“A virgin’s blood of Druid decent, only of age to give consent.” Duncan repeated the curse out loud so they both could ponder its interpretation. “Virgin blood will set you free; this is your curse from us to thee.” Duncan watched as Tara talked with Cassy.
“If Tara has to give consent, then force isn’t an option for Grainna. How can she force consent?”
“She can’t. Not without mind control. Tara has a strong mind and is unlikely to fall under any spell Grainna can cast.”
“Maybe,” Duncan murmured. “Damn it to hell but she looks so confident. Like everything is going according to her plan.”
“Agreed,” Fin said in trepidation.
Tara took the opportunity to walk through some of the vendors during the intermission. At least that is what she told Cassy. In reality, she wandered the crowd looking for Duncan. “Searching for someone?” his voice came from behind.
She smiled but didn’t turn. Instead, she got up on her tiptoes and looked over several heads in the crowd. “Just a tall, dark, and handsome man. You don’t know where I might find one, do you?”
His laugh warmed her. She loved the musical sound of it.
Duncan turned her around and gave her hand a quick kiss. When she winced, he turned it over and saw the scratch. “How did this happen?”
“Gwen’s rings caught. It’s fine.” Tara waved her free hand. “How is everything going out there? You look like a natural.”
Duncan rubbed her skin with his thumb.
“What is it?” Tara asked when he didn’t respond to her question and comments.
He pulled her closer, his voice hurried. “What did Gwen tell you about today?”
“What do you mean?” His body had stiffened, alarming her.
“Did she ask anything else of you, any other task?” Duncan urged.
Tara shifted from foot to foot. “No, nothing, why?”
He forced a smile and brought her hands to his lips. His eyes closed, he brushed her knuckles to his cheek.
Something was bothering him.
Something was wrong.
“What is it?”
He looked through her. “If you fear anything, Tara, call on me.”
“You’re scaring me, Duncan.”
The trumpets sounded, calling the warriors to the field.
The feeling he projected shook her to the core.
Something was gravely wrong. “Trust me.”
She searched his face, his eyes, trying in vain to see what was bothering him. An uncontrollable tremor went through her.
They both had places to be, both in opposite directions. His hand brushed her chin and left a blaze in its wake.
She watched him march away. His head held high, his stance and stride demanded people part in his path.
And…they did.
“Her cure has begun,” he told Fin when he met up with him. “Tell me.”
“Tara’s hand was marred and crusted with blood. Grainna cut her with her rings.”
“Is Tara suspicious?” Fin asked.
“A little, I think.” Duncan put his armor on over his tunic. “I believe I know what Grainna has planned.”
“What is it?” Fin fumbled with his own armor.
“She isn’t stopping or changing the outcome of these games. Her salvation has something to do with the end result. Tara has to be consenting. The curse is clear on that account.” He tugged his sleeve down under the armor.
“Aye, but how will she be consenting to a mere stranger? Even if Grainna could control her mind, Tara’s heritage would keep her from making any grievous mistakes.”
He spoke the truth, Duncan knew. “How are we to know she hasn’t found a way around that?”
Fin’s look said all he needed to know.
They didn’t have any assurance Grainna would play fair. Truly, she would play dirty if her past was any guide to her character.
They placed their helmets on in unison. Both held a renewed interest in the outcome of the joust.
Chapter 7
Back in Tara’s tent, Grainna prepared her altar.
A platform of stone had been constructed with symbols of black magic. A pentagon was carved in the center. Her curse printed out in her native tongue surrounding it.
The cloth with Tara’s blood soaked in her brew.
When Grainna pulled it from her pot the entire rag was thick with blood. Carefully, she carried it to the stone and dripped blood in the etchings of the circle surrounding the star.
Wisps of smoke emerged and sounds of sizzling and popping came with every drop that hit the sacred symbol.
Smiling in triumph, Grainna continued.
The first two challengers faced each other on the jousting field. Tara sat in apprehension as she watched them prepare to do battle. It was all in fun, mind racking, but fun. She was certain the lances they held were made of some flimsy material, which fell apart easily. But still she worried about the outcome. She couldn’t help wondering if one of these men would be the victor.
When the horses took off in a run, Tara watched as the lances merely glazed the sides of their shields.
Only a game, she told herself. Breathing easier, she watched the first few matches and let her body relax.
It was when Fin had his turn, her interest in the game was renewed. He faced the better of the first few players. Tara wasn’t surprised when Fin toppled the first rider with hardly a swipe and with only one pass.
Because Duncan was Tara’s favored rider, his matches were held toward the end of the tournament. He took the arena much like his younger brother had, but with more accuracy and swiftness.
A powerhouse on the field, he took no chances and toppled his challengers one after another. Some saw him as a formidable foe and chose to dodge his blows, thus forfeiting their game.
Tara watched as the numbers of players for her hand dwindled to only three—Sir Duncan, Sir Finlay and Sir Michael.
Could she go through a mock ceremony with anyone other than Duncan? She would of course, but it was hard to imagine. She hated to think of pretending with anyone else but him.
“It won’t be long now.” Cassy handed Tara a glass filled with wine. “Here, I think you’re going to need this.”
“I can’t. I’m too nervous.”
“What’s to worry about? Duncan will win. And if one of the others does at least they’re cute.”
Tara winced when she saw Fin take a hard blow to his arm holding his lance. “How can you be so sure Duncan will come out on top?”
“He has to. Besides, he likes you and wants it more than the others. Just look how he plucked them off earlier, like apples from a tree. Have some faith.” Cassy took a large drink from the wine she had poured for Tara.
“If Tara has to give consent, then force isn’t an option for Grainna. How can she force consent?”
“She can’t. Not without mind control. Tara has a strong mind and is unlikely to fall under any spell Grainna can cast.”
“Maybe,” Duncan murmured. “Damn it to hell but she looks so confident. Like everything is going according to her plan.”
“Agreed,” Fin said in trepidation.
Tara took the opportunity to walk through some of the vendors during the intermission. At least that is what she told Cassy. In reality, she wandered the crowd looking for Duncan. “Searching for someone?” his voice came from behind.
She smiled but didn’t turn. Instead, she got up on her tiptoes and looked over several heads in the crowd. “Just a tall, dark, and handsome man. You don’t know where I might find one, do you?”
His laugh warmed her. She loved the musical sound of it.
Duncan turned her around and gave her hand a quick kiss. When she winced, he turned it over and saw the scratch. “How did this happen?”
“Gwen’s rings caught. It’s fine.” Tara waved her free hand. “How is everything going out there? You look like a natural.”
Duncan rubbed her skin with his thumb.
“What is it?” Tara asked when he didn’t respond to her question and comments.
He pulled her closer, his voice hurried. “What did Gwen tell you about today?”
“What do you mean?” His body had stiffened, alarming her.
“Did she ask anything else of you, any other task?” Duncan urged.
Tara shifted from foot to foot. “No, nothing, why?”
He forced a smile and brought her hands to his lips. His eyes closed, he brushed her knuckles to his cheek.
Something was bothering him.
Something was wrong.
“What is it?”
He looked through her. “If you fear anything, Tara, call on me.”
“You’re scaring me, Duncan.”
The trumpets sounded, calling the warriors to the field.
The feeling he projected shook her to the core.
Something was gravely wrong. “Trust me.”
She searched his face, his eyes, trying in vain to see what was bothering him. An uncontrollable tremor went through her.
They both had places to be, both in opposite directions. His hand brushed her chin and left a blaze in its wake.
She watched him march away. His head held high, his stance and stride demanded people part in his path.
And…they did.
“Her cure has begun,” he told Fin when he met up with him. “Tell me.”
“Tara’s hand was marred and crusted with blood. Grainna cut her with her rings.”
“Is Tara suspicious?” Fin asked.
“A little, I think.” Duncan put his armor on over his tunic. “I believe I know what Grainna has planned.”
“What is it?” Fin fumbled with his own armor.
“She isn’t stopping or changing the outcome of these games. Her salvation has something to do with the end result. Tara has to be consenting. The curse is clear on that account.” He tugged his sleeve down under the armor.
“Aye, but how will she be consenting to a mere stranger? Even if Grainna could control her mind, Tara’s heritage would keep her from making any grievous mistakes.”
He spoke the truth, Duncan knew. “How are we to know she hasn’t found a way around that?”
Fin’s look said all he needed to know.
They didn’t have any assurance Grainna would play fair. Truly, she would play dirty if her past was any guide to her character.
They placed their helmets on in unison. Both held a renewed interest in the outcome of the joust.
Chapter 7
Back in Tara’s tent, Grainna prepared her altar.
A platform of stone had been constructed with symbols of black magic. A pentagon was carved in the center. Her curse printed out in her native tongue surrounding it.
The cloth with Tara’s blood soaked in her brew.
When Grainna pulled it from her pot the entire rag was thick with blood. Carefully, she carried it to the stone and dripped blood in the etchings of the circle surrounding the star.
Wisps of smoke emerged and sounds of sizzling and popping came with every drop that hit the sacred symbol.
Smiling in triumph, Grainna continued.
The first two challengers faced each other on the jousting field. Tara sat in apprehension as she watched them prepare to do battle. It was all in fun, mind racking, but fun. She was certain the lances they held were made of some flimsy material, which fell apart easily. But still she worried about the outcome. She couldn’t help wondering if one of these men would be the victor.
When the horses took off in a run, Tara watched as the lances merely glazed the sides of their shields.
Only a game, she told herself. Breathing easier, she watched the first few matches and let her body relax.
It was when Fin had his turn, her interest in the game was renewed. He faced the better of the first few players. Tara wasn’t surprised when Fin toppled the first rider with hardly a swipe and with only one pass.
Because Duncan was Tara’s favored rider, his matches were held toward the end of the tournament. He took the arena much like his younger brother had, but with more accuracy and swiftness.
A powerhouse on the field, he took no chances and toppled his challengers one after another. Some saw him as a formidable foe and chose to dodge his blows, thus forfeiting their game.
Tara watched as the numbers of players for her hand dwindled to only three—Sir Duncan, Sir Finlay and Sir Michael.
Could she go through a mock ceremony with anyone other than Duncan? She would of course, but it was hard to imagine. She hated to think of pretending with anyone else but him.
“It won’t be long now.” Cassy handed Tara a glass filled with wine. “Here, I think you’re going to need this.”
“I can’t. I’m too nervous.”
“What’s to worry about? Duncan will win. And if one of the others does at least they’re cute.”
Tara winced when she saw Fin take a hard blow to his arm holding his lance. “How can you be so sure Duncan will come out on top?”
“He has to. Besides, he likes you and wants it more than the others. Just look how he plucked them off earlier, like apples from a tree. Have some faith.” Cassy took a large drink from the wine she had poured for Tara.
