Page 6 of Midnight Shadow

In the flickering light of the candle, he could have sworn her lips moved. He stared at her for a moment, holding his breath, waiting for them to move again. It must have been his wishful imagination. Now they were still. Terran wiped his weary eyes, trying to clear them. But when he opened his eyes to look at her again, her lips were indeed moving.

He quickly boosted himself up on the bed. Her breath was so shallow he could barely hear her. He lowered his ear closer to her lips.

“Garret,” she whispered.

Terran sat bolt upright, his jaw hard as granite. He must have misheard her. But there was no mishearing her next cry.

Her lips moved again, her face contorting with pain. “Garret,” she managed to gasp.

Dysen! Terran reared back. He knew only one Garret. Garret Dysen. This cannot be. Why does she call for another man?

Then a thought struck him so hard he almost reeled. Could she love Dysen? Could she have killed herself because she couldn’t be with Dysen?

Anguish and disbelief tore through Terran. He stood and stepped away from the bed. How could this be?

He whirled away from her, clenching his fists. God’s blood! Have I been so blind?

Agony tore through him. It cannot be, he told himself. But deep in his heart, he knew he finally had his answer. Odella had poisoned herself to escape marriage to him.

Chapter three

The midday sunlight washed down upon the tilting field. A dozen knights were busy practicing their skills in the arena set up in a field on the western side of Castle Delaney. Some of the men were on foot, clanging swords in mock battles. Others rode their muscular warhorses, practicing battle maneuvers. Several men worked diligently on their jousting skills.

Bria pulled her knees up to her chest, staring down at the men in the field. She sat beneath a large tree, watching her grandfather give orders to one of the younger men as he handed him a jousting pole. Her grandfather indicated the quintain in the center of the field with a wave of his hand. The man nodded and spurred his horse forward, riding toward the far side of the field.

Someone plopped down on the grass beside Bria. She swiveled her head to see Mary adjusting her patched skirt around her legs. Her friend shoved a strand of unruly dark brown hair behind her ear and attempted to pat the rest of the flyaway strands flat. Her brown eyes twinkled with glee. “Has anyone arrived yet?” Mary asked breathlessly. She liked this suitor business much more than Bria did.

Bria returned her dismayed gaze to the field. The young knight with the jousting pole had reached the far side of the field and was turning his steed to face the quintain. “Two. No one interesting, though.”

Mary chuckled. “I think if the Midnight Shadow himself walked through your door, you’d call him ‘not interesting’ to avoid marriage.”

“If the Midnight Shadow walked through my door, I’d jump at the opportunity to marry him!” Bria exclaimed. “But he isn’t going to walk into Castle Delaney.”

The young knight in the jousting field spurred his horse and it charged forward, kicking up small puffs of dirt in his wake. The knight leaned forward in the saddle, leveling his pole at the quintain.

“That’s your problem, Bria,” Mary explained, watching him. “No flesh-and-blood man will ever be as attractive as the imaginary one you’ve created in your head.”

The young knight hit the quintain, which spun rapidly. The soft bag hit him in his shoulder with enough force to throw him from his steed. He tumbled over the side of the animal, landing in a pool of dust.

Mary put her hands over her eyes and groaned.

Bria grimaced and murmured, “Well, we know he’s not the Midnight Shadow.”

Mary burst into laughter.

“Can you still meet me tonight?” Bria asked, elbowing her friend.

“Of course,” Mary replied.

Suddenly, the distant sound of trumpets filled the air.

Mary’s eyes widened and she strained to see toward Castle Delaney, where the sound was coming from.

Bria rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, sitting back against the tree. “Another suitor,” she said with disdain.

Mary giggled and grabbed Bria’s arm, trying to pull her to her feet. “Let’s go see.”

“Why?” Bria demanded, refusing to be lifted.