Outlaw (Medieval Trilogy 3)

Megan held a fur coverlet she’d snagged from the bed over her body, but she couldn’t move. Determined to stand, she closed her eyes, tried to rise, but was suddenly weak. Deep within she felt a rending, and her head spun. She blinked hard.

“Get that mess out of here,” Hagan ordered.

“ ’Tis over,” Wolf said, gathering Megan into his arms. He was warm and strong and … another sharp pain gored her. She bit down on her lip and couldn’t stop the tears in her eyes, for Wolf was safe, she was alive, and … and . . . oh, dear God, no … the baby!

Wolf buried his face in the crook of her neck. “Love, oh, sweet, sweet love,” he said, blinking against tears as he lifted her into his arms and carried her down the hallway. He kissed her head, her throat, her eyes, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, because she knew as he laid her on the bed in her chamber that she was losing his baby. Silent agony tore through her, blinding her, extinguishing the light in her soul.

“Megan?” His voice came as if from a distance. “Megan.”

“ ’Tis gone,” she said and felt the rush of blood between her legs. “Wolf, please listen … the babe …” Deep racking sobs rose from her lungs, and then he understood.

“ ’Tis all right, rest,” he said, lying beside her, refusing to let her go. He pulled the blankets over her and held her close, whispering into her hair. Outside, the sounds of battle quieted, but deep in her heart, Megan felt a pain more desperate than ever before. “I will be with you forever,” he vowed, but she hadn’t the strength to believe him. As she closed her eyes and drifted into sleep, she knew that she’d lost their child, their precious babe, and even Wolf’s love couldn’t fill that gaping hole in her heart.

The sorcerer came later.

Wolf stood at the window of her chamber, and while Megan lay half in and half out of consciousness, Cadell laid his hands upon her and shook his head. “ ’Twill be difficult, friend, for the babe’s life has barely started and is slipping away.”

“I know, I know. Damn it, would you try?” Wolf muttered through a jaw clenched so tight it ached. The wounds he’d sustained while battling Holt were nothing compared to the agony ripping through his soul. ’Twas as if the Devil himself were chasing through his heart, laughing at him, mocking him, for ’twas he who’d brought this pain to his beloved Megan, he who got her with child, he who inadvertently, while slaying Holt, had nearly killed his own unborn babe.

“Leave us,” Cadell ordered, and the candles near the bedside flickered as the great owl who was the sorcerer’s companion landed in the window and stared inside.

Reluctantly, Wolf walked through the corridors of Dwyrain, past chambers where the wounded were being tended, through the kitchen, where Cook was attempting to start the morning’s meal, and outside to the bailey, where bodies were being hauled through the gates to the graveyard.

“So there ye be, ye black-hearted cur,” Odell growled as, bartering with the armorer, he spied Wolf.

“What now, Odell?”

The grizzled outlaw picked his way over the spilled blood to stand below Wolf on the steps. “Ye sent Cormick to his death and nearly took Robin and Jagger as well.”

“Aye.” Guilt would forever be Wolf’s companion. In the distance, the sun was just beginning to rise, sending pale rays through the mist that clung to the cold ground. “ ’Twas my mistake.”

“All for a woman,” Odell reminded him, and spat upon the ground.

“For the woman that will be my wife.”

“We have rules—”

“Should they not be bent for Megan?” Wolf growled, reaching for the front of his old friend’s tunic and clenching the rough fabric in his fingers. “ ’Tis sorry I am about Cormick. Could I, I would trade places with him, but it cannot be.”

Odell’s mouth opened and closed and Wolf, realizing that he was close to strangling the man, let him go. “I’m giving up the band,” he said as Holt’s standard was lowered from the flagpole and the old colors of Dwyrain flew once again, for now Megan was truly mistress of this keep.

“Leave us?” Odell paled. “But—who will lead us?”

A cold smile played upon Wolf’s lips as he watched Bjorn order the men about, telling the soldiers what to do with the wounded and commanding the carpenter to tear down the rigging for the gallows. “Bjorn will be your leader,” he said, and strode down the steps to meet his friend.

“He’s not happy with you. He was almost killed as well,” Odell said, rotating his neck like a chicken eyeing a fat bug and rubbing his throat.

“Aye, Odell, I know

. You needs not screech at me like a fishwife, now do you?”

Bjorn dusted his hands as the last of the dead were carted from the castle. “Wolf,” he said, his eyes showing no trace of emotion. “We needs speak.” His gaze moved pointedly to Odell, but the grizzled old outlaw didn’t budge.

“I’m not movin’, if that’s what ye’re askin’.”

“I’m leaving the band,” Wolf announced. “And I want you to be its leader.”

Bjorn rubbed his jaw. “ ’Tis your group of thugs.”