The Forgotten (9 page)

Shocked gasps reverberated around him. Most of the men seemed horrified while a few of them attempted to hide their smirks. They covertly looked at him with admiration in their eyes.

“That is your opinion, Sir Lucan. You will forgive me for not giving you the courtesy of Your Grace, as in my humble opinion, no baseborn bastard should be given such a lofty title.” At this proclamation, Ulwyn sneered at Lucan. “It is unfortunate that the last earl died without issue. He struggled with the knowledge that he was sterile for most of his life. Many of us questioned following an Alpha who was lacking in so many ways but when you’re used to just going along with whatever Whittier rules, well, you tend to get resigned to your lot in life—you should take heart and know that you can live a full life, if you, too, are afflicted with the same condition.”

Lucan swallowed hard against the insult that Lord Ulwyn had purposefully thrown his way. The fact that he seemed unable to show him the respect that Lucan’s position afforded him made him see red.

The last insult he’d thrown his way was the topping on the cake. Those who were predisposed to sympathize with Lucan had fury dancing in their eyes, and many had instinctively placed their hands on the hilts of their swords.

If Lord Ulwyn sought to bait him, he’d have to pick another target to engage. The curse had taught him the fine art of keeping his anger checked when needed.

“There are many village idiots throughout the land who have managed to breed. Take heart, you are not the only one, Lord Ulwyn.”

Snickers followed his well-placed insult. Lord Ulwyn’s face went so red he looked as if he was going to explode red jelly all over the place.

Ulwyn seemed to know he was at a disadvantage. He stood up regally, and flounced out of the room. His lackeys following on his tail like they wanted to sniff his ass.

The spokesman for the few that remained, looked at Lucan.

“Some of us knew you were coming, Your Grace. We’ve been told to support you in the grab for power that will be waged here shortly. The King fully supports you and as members of the Shifter Alliance, we support the King. We will not go against him by siding with Lord Ulwyn. Had we known he disapproved of Lord Ulwyn before this, we never should have allowed him to have our support. Unfortunately, many of us do not have what it takes to be an Alpha. For this reason, we’ve called in Alphas from other Counties to help us in the bid for power.”

“I thank you for your efforts on my behalf. Based on those who support Ulwyn, I do not think I will need the reinforcements. They can be afforded a front row seat as Lord Ulwyn can be extremely entertaining. I think he missed his calling—he should have been a Court Jester!”

“Begging your pardon, Your Grace, but you don’t understand the severity of the situation. Lord Ulwyn is more powerful than what you think. They say he used a twisted dark magic to get his way, and he summons a force more powerful than what any of us can possibly hope to fight. Only truly powerful light magic can combat what he uses to empower himself. He is a dark soul, consumed by his greed and lust for power. You will find that beating him is not as easy you think.”

As Lord Ulwyn approached, a hush fell over the Great Hall. The men who had given Lucan the warning, clamped their mouths shut and looked down at the table, as if suddenly the ancient pyxawood had become entrancing.

Lucan mulled over their warnings. He’d have to confront Neri and ask if what the weak wolf shifters said was true. If he was dealing with a dabbler of the dark arts, he could combat that user.

The fact that Lord Ulwyn was summoning something from the dark forces troubled him deeply. Anything with undead powers was an enemy not to be trifled with.

He knew from his experience with Ava’s Granny that Celestial Beings of the Light did exist for those beings had come to take Avalona Cecil to her final resting place. Conversely, he also knew that Celestial Beings of the Dark also existed, and they were mischief makers of the absolute worst sort.

“Claim the castle as your own. Say you are the Master, and it will be done.”

The disembodied male voice whispered in his ear. He looked around trying to see from whence the voice had originated. He looked up at the second floor where Ulwyn had stood when he’d first come into the Great Hall. He saw a sheen of white light, and a wispy figure of a spirit started to coalesce before his eyes.

When it became almost solid looking, he recognized the spirit. His father stood smiling down at him, dressed in a plain grey cloak.

He didn’t know if he was seeing or imagining things and yet, the spirit looked quite real.

He stared at his father for another good long moment and then looked away. Pain welled inside of him, he couldn’t bear to look at him any longer. He couldn’t follow his father’s advice even though he wanted to. His father had forsaken him and his mother so very long ago and though they said time heals all wounds, he couldn’t in good conscience forgive him—and he was damned if he was going to do what he wanted him to do.

“You should do what is good for you, Sir Lucan, and join our Pack. If you don’t, things will get very uncomfortable for you, very quickly.”

“I already have a Pack. I don’t want this castle, do you hear me?” he asked, looking to where his father stood.

His father responded by hanging his head low, as if in shame and disappeared in a grey puff of smoke.

“We can all hear you loud and clear. Since all of us are shifters. We, like you, are equipped with keen hearing, we are a perceptive lot. I don’t think you’ve recovered from Avalona Cecil’s dark curse. You still seem quite addled and dim-witted. I’m glad to hear that you don’t want this castle because as far as I’m concerned you can’t have it.” Ulwyn’s eyes narrowed at him.

Overcome with the urge to get away from his Father and his father’s castle, he stood up and looked to the great double doors that led to freedom.

“I might not want this castle, but I will not let your reign of tyranny continue, Ulwyn. I’m giving you notice, you will be knocked off your high horse, and I shall be the one to knock you off your perch of power.”

Ulwyn stared at him his beady eyes merrily twinkling, as if he knew he had already won this round. “I don’t think you have what it takes, Sir Lucan. I think you should leave now.”

He stood up, gave a knowing glance to the men who had warned him about Ulwyn’s usage of the dark arts, and swept out of the Great Hall.

*****

“Make sure he doesn’t leave the grounds alive. Have the archers take him out.”

The man closest to Lord Ulwyn nodded his head, and left the Great Hall. Lord Ulwyn looked down at the ring he wore.

He waved his hand dismissingly, and the rest of the wolf shifters left.

After a few moments of indulged silence, he stared down at the ring he wore and spoke to the empty hall.

“Did you think you were going to get your little brat to free you?”

*****

The spirit of the 3
rd
Earl of Wythley appeared in front of Ulwyn.

“I believed I would encourage my son to take responsibility for what is his. As it stands, he will not allow you to continue terrorizing the men and women of Cambria. He will put you down, Lord Ulwyn.”

“Do you think so? I think you’re grasping on straws of hay, Lord Wythley. I don’t think your son will live past this night. He has no allies in this region. He is but one man—one very mortal man.”

“He might only be one man, but that man has indeed been blessed by the Gods. And he has more friends than you could ever hope to have, Lord Ulwyn. Even if he didn’t have any allies coming to support him—he has one thing you will never be able to obtain.”

“And what is that?” Lord Ulwyn asked snidely.

“He has the love of a woman who will walk through the Dark Underworld for him. He just doesn’t know it yet. That woman will help to steer him toward the light. That woman will give him the hope he needs to usurp you.”

“If he’s counting on a woman, than he’s dumber than I gave him credit for. No woman could possibly stand against me and win. Women are weak, both in soul and in body.”

“I feel sorry for you for believing that Lord Ulwyn, because it’s a woman who will be your absolute undoing.”

Lord Ulwyn’s maniacal laughter unsettled Brandyn Wythley. If he could, he would follow his son to warn him about what the madman planned. Alas, he could not leave the walls of his ancestral castle.

The chains of his curse that kept him rooted to this Realm held him back from leaving Castle Wythley. Only his son could lift the curse and give him what he so desperately needed—his forgiveness.

Neri looked at the castle as white beams of moonlight enveloped it. It looked so gloomy, so morose. She missed the way life used to be when the last earl was alive. To be completely honest, she missed the way life had been during Brandyn’s life.

The area had flourished so much, and everyone had walked around with a smile on their faces and peace in their hearts, knowing that no matter what they were safe, and free to live a happy life.

After living through such heartbreak back in Avonry, coming to such an idyllic place had made her wonder if it was almost too good to be true. She’d constantly been forced to pinch herself, not quite believing that such goodness existed in the world, and yet, for many joyful years, it had.

Storm clouds once again filled the dark sky. It looked like they were due for round two on the stormy weather front.

Her keen eyesight told her that Lucan had almost reached the lowered drawbridge. He would be safe shortly. She heard the distinctive sound of an arrow cutting through the air. When the arrow hit him in the shoulder, she felt the pain almost as much as he must have felt it. He wavered, and looked as if he’d fall to his knees.

She let out an outraged roar, and crossed the distance that laid between them. Before reaching him, she changed back into her human form. Hopefully, he would not question her appearance.

He forged on, one arrow wasn’t going to take him down, so when another hit him, she almost doubled over in pain. Those bloody bastards! Ulwyn deserved the suffering of being burned in a thousand suns!

That was when Lucan finally reached his boiling point. He turned back and unleashed his magical fury. Those that were firing at him, screamed out in agony as they fell to their deaths. She could see expending that amount of energy had cost him a great deal.

Rushing forward, she caught him before he hit the ground.

“Stay alert, Lucan. We have to get you back to the village, don’t give up on me now!” He looked at her dazed and confused. His soulful eyes ate her up. She could literally drown in their depths.

“How did you get here so fast? Were you following me?” he asked, grunting with pain. His face was scrunched up with agony. “I’m too large for you to support. I’ll crush you. You’re such a tiny bit of a thing.”

“I’m stronger than I look. I’m a hardy little thing. Don’t worry about me, worry about getting out of here with our lives.”

She considered their options, of which, they had very few. She couldn’t half drag him as far as the village and she didn’t exactly want to transform into her Purple Panthera form with Lord Ulwyn’s eyes everywhere.

That was one secret he didn’t need to know about. If he ever found out, he just might send out missives to Avonry telling them where she was. After all of these years living in self-induced exile, she couldn’t take being dragged back to Avonry to be executed. She had done no wrong—in fact, those who had condemned her should be burning in the Dark Underworld. Instead, most of them were probably still alive and still wanted her to pay for what they believed her guilty of.

Disappearing in a puff of purple smoke was actually preferable to having her Changeling abilities discovered. They would just think she was what she was, a woman with a mysterious past. They didn’t even know about her Hunter blood, thanks to Lucan’s father.

To be fair, she had escaped with the red Hunter cloak of her great-great-great-grandmother. She didn’t even know if she could fight the way that Hunters could fight. She’d never tested herself in battle like that, and she didn’t fancy trying it out at this moment in time. Defending herself against a randy wolf shifter was one thing, fighting as if her life depended on it against a bunch of the bastards was something else entirely.

She had to get Lucan to safety. She had to get the poisoned arrows out of his body before they did irreparable harm, by paralyzing him or worse. She just wished he had listened to her. Had he given her words credence they wouldn’t be in this crappy predicament!

“Hold onto me, Lucan. We’re going to cut our travel time down a bit.” She could only hope she hadn’t lost her touch. She hadn’t tried this intricate of an incantation in years, and so therefore, her skills could be rusty. She only prayed they arrived at their destination in one piece.

“He has no honour. That bastard needs to die,” Lucan coughed. She winced at the stricken look of pain on his face.

“Hush now, Lucan. You can be the hero another day. Tonight, we just have to get you home so you can live to fight another day.”

He grimaced in pain, and strengthened his grip on her. “Work your special kind of magic, luv. I’m ready.”

She inhaled deeply as rain poured in buckets down from the sky. Drawing on her magic, she did something she hadn’t done in over one hundred and fifty years—she used her changeling magic to transport them through time and space.

*****

Lord Ulwyn watched as Neri disappeared in a puff of purple smoke. “That bastard got lucky this time. Neri’s magic was on his side. The next time we meet, he won’t be so lucky.”

“He’s gotten a rude awakening. He’s found out that not all men are like him. Not all men fight with honour. He’ll be prepared for you the next time you two meet. You are not long for this world, Lord Ulwyn,” Brandyn advised.

“I wouldn’t start to boast, Lord Wythley. You’re the one who damned yourself to an eternity of being stuck within the walls of this castle.”

“All will be well now that my son has returned to embrace his destiny.”

“Right now, the only destiny your son is going to be embracing is death.”

*****

Neri helped him to his bed, and watched worriedly as he groaned when he slumped weakly down upon it.

“Get my saddlebags. They have healing potions and salves in them. They are the only thing that can help me now. I wish to the Gods that I had a healing mage the likes of which the King employs.”

She dashed over to where his saddlebags were propped against the wall, and reached inside of them for the healing kit. She found it quite quickly as it was the only blue box in the bag.

Carrying it over to him, she screamed when he used his magic to push the arrows out of his body. She looked away quickly. She couldn’t bear watching him do such a thing to his body.

“By the Gods, how can you stand the pain?”

“I’ve felt much worse. If I don’t get them out, the poison inside of them will continue to leach away at my magic and it could cause me irreparable harm. This side is the side I fight with. I can’t do without my sword arm, Neri. I was never good at using my other side to fight, though my mentor did attempt to teach me. He said that a well-trained Knight Mage could fight with either arm, I guess I fell short in that area. I don’t think he it made him any less proud of me.” With that statement, Lucan used his magic to incinerate the vial arrows.

“So you knew they were poisoned?” she asked unbelievably.

“A man like Lord Ulwyn wouldn’t shoot me without making sure he had the arrows that would put me onto my funeral pyre, Neri. You were right. I did underestimate him. I am sorry for doubting you.”

His sincere apology only made her heart soften toward him more. He seemed like the perfect kind of man. She would be an idiot to continue denying how she felt about him. Was she brave enough to embrace what her heart wanted?

“The Gods should make sure that bastard burns in the Dark Underworld. He has an evil heart, and an evil soul,” her voice shook with the depth of her emotion.

“I will make him rue doing this to me. By the time I am done with him, he’ll wish he was never born.”

His face went a dangerous shade of white. She held the box out to him. “What do I do?” she asked fearfully. “You look like you’re slipping away on me.”

Groaning, he reached for the box and took out a potion vial and a container holding a healing salve. “Rub this on the affected areas, while I drink this potion. The potion will nullify the poison in my body while the salve will speed up the healing process of the wounds created by the arrows.”

“So I’m not going to have to stitch you up?” Relief surged through her. She didn’t know if she could bear stitching him up. She hated having to see anyone in pain, and seeing him affected so deeply was really weighing heavily on her.

“Correct,” he muttered, as another wave of pain hit him. He grimaced, closed his eyes against the wave of pain and regulated his ragged breathing.

He popped the stopper on the potion vial and drank it down in one gulp. She put the container of salve on the bed next to Lucan.

“I’ll be right back. I’d better wash my hands first so as not to give you an infection.” He nodded at her as she left the room. She scrubbed her hands and rinsed the soap off. Returning to Lucan’s bedroom, she watched as his colour started to gradually return. She held the container of salve, and considered what to do. If she climbed onto the bed with him, she might never want to get off it.

Sighing, she climbed up onto the mattress, and balanced herself on her knees behind him, he’d already removed his tattered shirt and it lay in a heap on the floor.

The wounds the arrow heads had inflicted on him looked deadly and they were already started to fester. Inhaling a large gulp of air, she opened the container and put her fingers into the cold substance.

Rubbing it liberally over the two wounds, she blinked incredulously as the red rawness of the wounds quickly faded and the skin started to knit itself together.

The muscles corded in his back made her lick her lips with want. She wanted to kiss her way down his back, he was so bloody beautiful. He was a specimen of raw masculinity. His training as a Knight Mage and his time spent as a wolf shifter had given him the physique of the Gods.

“By the Gods, I’ve never seen such a wondrous thing.” She was talking about the healing power of the salve and about the sheer handsomeness of his back. She’d never laid eyes on such a well-built man before.

“You didn’t have magical healers in Avonry?”

“We did, aye. But when I was there I never needed any healing. We changelings are quite resilient. Well, I didn’t require a healer until my last days spent there—I could have used a healer then, not that I would have gotten that kind of blessing. Those that had control over my life wanted to make me suffer most painfully. A healer would have been too good for me, at least in their estimation.”

She thought back to her last days spent there. Days when she’d been drowning in darkness. Days and nights spent on her knees praying to the Goddess who supposedly watched over women and children. She’d almost lost her faith during that time believing that the Goddess Rhiannon had forsaken her.

She hadn’t. She’d only been biding her time setting up the right scenario for her deliverance from evil. She saw that now, and she was thankful that Shardizar and Avonry shared many of the same deities as she couldn’t ever give up worshiping Rhiannon, she’d seen her through the toughest time of her life, and she could only pray that she watched over her son in the Heavenly Otherworld.

“Did you run away from your former life?” his voice was low, and had a gentle ring to it.

“I ran away from death, not life.” A hitch entered her throat.

She slipped off the bed, and returned the healing salve to the healing box and then walked over to place it on his chest of drawers.

“I had no idea,” he murmured.

She kept her back to him. Pain welled up inside of her as she remembered her life back in Avonry. She’d carried those demons around with her for so long—she wanted to unburden her soul—and yet, she couldn’t bring herself to confide her past woes to him. She had to get out of here, she felt as if her breathing was constricted.

“I’m going to go downstairs and get you some of that stew you made for us. You need to eat and keep up your strength.”

“I’m fine. You don’t have to fret about me. The potion invigorated me. I won’t need the nourishment of food.”

“No. Wolf shifters need sustenance. You can’t have your stomach roaring with hunger. And you’ll need all of your strength in the coming days.”

“Speaking of roaring, I heard the sound of a large cat roaring earlier.” He looked like he was going to confront her, and ask her if she was the large cat in question, so before he could muster the words, she slipped out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

For one sweet second, she leaned against the door, and enjoyed being in such close proximity to him, and knowing that he was safe. She’d already lost her heart to him. She could only pray he wouldn’t break it.

She made her way noiselessly down to the kitchen. Bianca still sat in the same spot where she’d left her. The poor thing was wrapped in self-pity again. She wished she could do more for Bianca and give her the kind of life she deserved.

Several times she’d attempted to inspire Bianca to do something to change her life. She’d told her to leave Glynneath and forge a life for herself in another part of Shardizar. Unfortunately, Bianca wouldn’t leave the land of her mother.

Her adoration for Elspeth Crane was undying. She couldn’t leave the cemetery where she was buried, and told Neri as much. Neri had a hard time wrapping her mind around such devotion as her own dear old mama had condemned her in the highest court of their land. However, she was just as devoted to her daughter, Rhiannon, and hoped that Rhiannon viewed her the way that Bianca and Christi viewed their dearly departed mother.