Dragon Knight's Ring (Order of the Dragon Knights Book 5) (3 page)

“Welcome home, Adam,” greeted Patrick, sitting across from him.

Adam stared at his brother for a few moments and then made to stand. Patrick was there in two strides to help steady him. He waited until the dizziness passed and then shrugged out of his brother’s embrace. Stumbling toward the table, he braced his arms on the rough wood. Seeing the trencher of meat and cheese, he shoved it aside and sniffed at the contents of the pitcher. Relieved to find it held only water, he lifted and drank deeply.

“Did ye bring me back to my chambers?” he asked as he glanced over his shoulder at Patrick.

“Aye, along with Alex. Upon hearing how ye spoke with Drostan, we figured ye went up to the parapet. Ye often went there to brood.”

Adam could see the wariness etched across his brother’s face. Lines of worry creased his brow, and his hands were clasped behind his back. Remembering Drostan’s words that his brothers had searched the Highlands for him, guilt haunted Adam. He gave his brother a slight nod as he took a piece of bread and cheese. Walking over to the hearth, he chewed the food slowly. So many questions filled him, but only one burned within his mind.

“Why have ye returned, if your plans will have ye leaving?” Patrick asked, not giving time for Adam to blurt out his one question.

Adam sighed and gazed into the flames. Finishing the last bite of bread, he wiped the crumbs from his face. Turning to face Patrick, he replied, “To close the door on the past—to forge a new life away from the pain. A final pilgrimage.”

Patrick unclasped his hands and went to Adam. “Ye will always carry the pain of losing her. Ye cannae think that in another land away from Scotland ye would fare better. This is your home.”

Adam realized part of his brother’s words rang true. “Aye, the pain traveled with me—even to the distant lands I journeyed during my time away, but here”—he waved his hand about—“she dwelt and her spirit lingers. ’Tis stronger, the pain of her loss.”

“There is much we need to discuss before ye depart once again.” Patrick’s tone waxed curt.

“Aye, like how our brother, Michael, died by the hand of a MacKay—the verra one who still lives! Pray tell me why, Patrick? Have ye and Alex gone soft?”

“
We
—your new laird and I, will account all that has happened in your absence. Then, if ye deem ye need to depart, I will open the gates myself. Ye return two years later, not the man who left. Where did your travels take ye that harden your heart and tongue further?”

“To the Holy Lands with the Templar Knights,” stated Adam, seeing the shock mar his brother’s face.

Patrick grasped his shoulders. “By the hounds! Your travels took ye that far? Why would ye take up with
them
? They are with the new religion.”

“I believe in the
new
religion, and the pilgrimage was an attempt to wash the blood of Meggie’s death from my soul. In truth, I will never find peace, and the Crusades are one I dinnae wish to discuss.”

Releasing him, Patrick stared in obvious alarm. “I do not ken who ye are.” He turned and started for the door, but hesitated. “The tub has been filled—
again
. When ye have bathed, seek us out in the laird’s chambers.”

When the door closed, Adam rubbed the heels of his palms against his eyes. The weight of his travels crushed him body and soul. He gave no care for Patrick’s outburst, nor did he worry what Alex thought about his beliefs. He would hear their account and then he would leave. “One last journey,” he whispered.

****

An hour later, Adam entered Alex’s chambers without knocking. Patrick turned from the window and gave him a pointed look, but Alex walked forward and embraced him.

“Ye have been sorely missed, Adam. ’Tis good to see ye have returned home.”

Adam felt like an outsider, unable to welcome the greeting from his brother.

Alex took a step back. “So ye have traveled far and with the Templars. I would like to hear of your time across these vast lands.”

His brothers could not begin to fathom. “The road was filled with blood. Naught to share.”

Shrugging, Alex went and poured some ale into several mugs. He handed one to Patrick and the other to Adam. Holding his cup high, he said, “Regardless of the past, ye have ventured back home—”

As Adam started to object and let his brother know his stay was not a long one, Alex held up his hand to halt his words.

“It does not matter how long. We shall embrace this time.” He motioned for Adam to take a chair.

Nodding slowly, Adam sat and took a sip of the ale.

“Have ye broken your fast?” asked Alex, as he moved to his desk.

“Aye. Anice made sure I ate all before leaving the hall.”

Patrick snorted, and Alex rubbed his hand across his face in an attempt to hide the smile.

“Ye do look like ye could add a stone or two on ye,” stated his older brother. “Travels can make a man thin.”

Adam looked at Alex across the rim of his cup for a few moments. He would make a far better laird for the clan than Michael. Setting his mug down, he folded his arms across his chest. “What happened to Michael?”

“Our brother—our laird had slowly been losing his wits. Do ye remember the druid, Lachlan?” Alex refilled his mug and took a deep swallow.

“Aye. I never cared for the man. There was something odd about him, and Michael always listened to his counsel.”

Patrick pointed a finger at Alex. “See! I was not the only one who thought the druid was vile. So did Adam. And let us not forget, the MacKays thought the druid was dead.”

Adam unfolded his arms. “Ye speak as if the MacKays are allies. Why are we not at war with them?”

“They are now our friends,” stated Alex quietly. He glanced at Patrick. “Sit down and stop glaring at me. I had my suspicions but held back from stating them to ye.”

“Humph!” Refilling his mug, Patrick took a seat across from Adam. “Continue,
my laird
.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “As I was saying, our brother’s mind was not all here.” He tapped his head to get his point across. “Lachlan was…controlling him through magic.”

“Magic?” hissed Adam. The very word had him reeling.

“Aye. With each new moon, Michael became more wild—uncontrolled. One day, he came upon Alastair MacKay and his woman. He kidnapped both. Tortured Alastair and almost raped his woman. Fortunately, Patrick interrupted them before the deed was done. Ever since ye have left, Michael was steadfast in claiming the relics of the Dragon Knights. His intent was to bleed Alastair to assume the power.”

“’Tis madness,” whispered Adam. “How did he die? I can only fathom that Alastair escaped and took out his revenge against Michael.”

Patrick shifted in his chair. “I helped Alastair and his lady escape. I took them to Urquhart lands and Michael followed. Alastair spared his life after they fought. Nevertheless, it was Michael who tossed his dagger at the departing MacKay. In the end, Alastair reacted as a trained warrior and killed Michael.”

“Why would this bring about a bond of alliance?” asked Adam, confused and wary.

“We have been helping the MacKays with this evil that has spread across the lands. Patrick and I have witnessed the destructive power of Lachlan when he first challenged Duncan MacKay—”

“Duncan MacKay?” roared Adam, clenching his fists. “His sword was the one that took the life of Margaret! I would have stepped aside and let Lachlan destroy him.”

“And let evil win?” Alex shook his head sadly. “Nae. Ye have not been here to see how he wields the dark magic. Since your absence, the darkness has grown.”

Adam glanced at Patrick and then back to Alex. “’Tis a strange place I have returned to, where enemies stand together.”

“The MacKays are no longer our enemies,” protested the new laird. “We have battled side by side with them. Death has come to many on our lands. The druids believe Lachlan wove his foul magic
before
the night that claimed Margaret. He used the Dragon Knights in much the same as Michael. Lachlan is verra powerful, and his force strengthens with each passing moon.”

His gut twisted at the continued mentioning of magic and druids. Standing, Adam walked to the window. “Magic and druids. Their time is coming to an end.”

“You have discovered this knowledge from the new religion?” Sarcasm laced Patrick’s question.

Adam kept silent, staring at the dark clouds looming in the distance.

Patrick let out a curse. “Did ye not say your road was filled with blood? There is no perfect belief.”

“Ye are wrong, Patrick,” he argued. “There is more to the new religion.”

“And yet, I say ye are wrong,” countered Patrick.

“Enough,” commanded Alex.

Moving away from the window, Adam refilled his mug and stood by the hearth. He would hear the rest of Alex’s account and then be gone. He wanted no part of this battle. He had grown weary of corruption, greed, and bloodshed. “Why would Lachlan attack the MacKays?”

Alex’s lip curled in disgust. “Why do any seek to further themselves? For power, Adam. To control the relics of the Dragon Knights. Ye are correct. ’Tis a strange place ye have returned to. Dark magic clouds the land. The Dragon Knights are united in their fight against Lachlan and those that follow the druid.”

“So the MacKays are back at Urquhart? They murder, yet they still walk their lands like naught happened. I had heard the talk but prayed it was folly. They were cursed and should have remained so.” Adam growled his words.

“Ye are so quick to judge, brother,” interjected Patrick. “Ye have not been here and do not ken what they have gone through. Does not your new religion speak of forgiveness?”

Adam started to utter a retort, but Patrick held up his hand. “Aye, I agree your loss was horrific. However, ye should also be angry with us. We did not want your marriage to the MacKay lass and warned ye against it. We hold ourselves responsible for Margaret MacKay’s death, as well.”

“Nae!” shouted Adam. “I will never
forgive
what they did to Meggie! I long to find a place where no one has heard the name, Dragon Knight.”

Alex let out a long sigh and leaned back in his chair. “I fear ye can never venture far without being reminded of those words.”

“Ye are mistaken,” he whispered. Moving to the table, Adam placed the mug down. As he turned to leave, Alex’s words stopped him cold.

“There is another Dragon Knight—one who at this verra moment walks a path of redemption. The MacKays were not the only ones.”

A prickling of unease slid down Adam’s back. His senses told him to flee his brother’s chambers. He wanted to hear no more. Freedom to the Isles beckoned him like a soothing siren. There was chaos and evil snaking around in the Highlands, and he wanted no part of their fight.

“This is not my battle, nor do I care that another Dragon Knight roams the land. I want no part of this madness. I will depart in two days.”

Alex stood and walked over to him. “Ye cannot escape this Dragon Knight.”

“Why? Is this knight some spirit who dwells in the mists? Surely, ye cannot believe I would fear another Dragon Knight. Is there a fifth brother?”

Shaking his head slowly, Alex clamped a hand on his shoulder and leveled Adam with a stare that chilled him to his bones. “There is no fifth MacKay. They did not ken there was another knight until this year. The Great Dragon who dwells in the loch revealed this message to Angus. I fear they did not take the news well in the beginning.”

Again, Adam’s mind screamed at him to flee. “Who?” His question came out as a growl.

“Ye, Adam, are the fifth Dragon Knight.”

Silence descended in the chamber, smothering him, and Adam found it difficult to breathe. Pushing away from his brother’s hold, he fled the room. His steps quickened as he descended the stairs, closing off the shouts from his brothers. He gave no care when he bumped into a serving lass causing her to drop her bundle, and he continued out the open doors of the castle. Ignoring all others, he made his way to the stables searching for his horse.

Darkness clouded his vision, and Adam rubbed at his eyes. Whistling for Ciar, he waited for the familiar nicker. Making his way to the back, he found his horse. Not saying anything, man and beast left the stables only to be confronted by his brothers.

“Get out of my way,” snarled Adam.

“There is much ye need to hear,” demanded Alex. “Come back inside.”

“Nae!” he shouted, shoving his brother out of the way. “I want none of this!”

“Ye cannae escape your destiny, Adam. The Fae chose you. Ye may not want it, but ’tis yours.”

“Destiny?” Adam’s laugh sounded bitter even to his ears. “I have
none
. And I want naught to do with the Fae!” Keeping his back to Alex, he saw the concern on Patrick’s face. Guilt tormented him once again, but he pushed those feelings aside. “Open the gates or I will force them open.”

Alex stepped aside and motioned for the guard to draw up the portcullis. Turning back around, he unsheathed his sword. “’Tis not safe without a weapon. I see yours is missing from your scabbard. Here, take mine.”

Adam waved off the gesture. “I will not take our father’s sword. It belongs with the laird.”

“Dinnae be a fool,” snapped Alex. Holding the blade out toward him, he waited.

He took in deep calming breaths. Reaching for the sword, he grasped it firmly. “I shall return.” Without saying anything else, he sheathed the sword and mounted his horse. They quickly departed through the gates, and Adam urged his steed toward the one place he had sought since his return to Scotland—the standing stones.

Even if Adam were blind, he would ken where they were. It had been Margaret’s haven during the last month of her life. She had been torn between two worlds. The MacKays and becoming his wife.
Wife
. The verra word conjured memories of their last moments together before the darkness descended. The vows he had formed in his mind, but never spoken.

In one swift blow, all their dreams—their future, had turned to ash. “All because of the MacKays! I curse ye all to Hell! I will
never
be one of ye—a Dragon Knight.”

Adam’s vision blurred and he blinked. Once again, darkness threatened to consume him. Since the moment he stepped on Scottish soil, he had fought against the dreary gloom plaguing his mind and body. At times when his anger surfaced, his sight would fade. He could only see the shadows and this frightened him. When the anger was contained, he found his sight restored.