Beneath a Midnight Moon

It was raining when Sharilyn and Carrick arrived at Castle Argone. Jagged flashes of lightning rent the angry black clouds as they hurried into the keep.



After Sharilyn and Carrick had changed out of their traveling clothes and had something to eat, the family met in the Great Hall.



Sharilyn quickly gave the details of the birth, assuring Hardane that Morissa and the babe were well. They drank a toast to the newest member of the family, and then Carrick stood up, his hands clasped behind his back.



"Is it true about Bourke?" he asked. "Did the message come from a reliable source?"



"Yes," Hardane said. "There's no doubt of his death, or of the fact that Selene and Renick now hold the throne."



"What will you do now?"



"Wait. My brothers have all been warned. The next move is up to Renick."



"Wait?" Carrick exclaimed. "That's all, just wait?"



"My men have been preparing for battle ever since we heard of Bourke's death," Hardane replied, the edge in his voice indicating he didn't care for Carrick's implication that he didn't know what he was doing. "Supplies are being brought into the castle in case of a siege. The townspeople and farmers are making what preparations they can. Have I forgotten anything?"



Carrick grinned sheepishly. "No."



"It's late," Sharilyn said, rising to her feet. "I'm going to bed."



"Good sleep, Mother," Hardane said, giving her a hug.



"Rest well, son. You, too, Kylene." She turned to Carrick. "Good evening to you, sir."



"Madam." Carrick bowed formally, a smile playing over his lips as he watched Sharilyn leave the room, and then he, too, took his leave.



It was a look that was not lost on Kylene. "Well," she said, "what do you make of that?"



"I think your father's in love with my mother."



"And do you think she's in love with him?"



"I know it."



"You know it? How?"



"I just know."



"But . . . but she's still in mourning. Isn't she?"



"Perhaps."



"Do you think they'll get married?"



Hardane nodded. "Before the year is out, I should think."



Rain or shine, Hardane's men trained in the inner courtyard. From dawn to dusk the sounds of sword against sword and sword against shield rang in the air until Kylene no longer noticed it.



Hardane often trained alongside his men. Whenever possible, Kylene watched them from the parapet above the courtyard. Though she hated to think he would actually go to war, she loved to watch Hardane in action. He moved with such assurance, such inborn grace, that she never tired of watching him. He swung his sword as if it were made of rolled parchment instead of heavy steel, easily besting every opponent.



She watched with pride as her father took to the field. Despite the fact that he was older than many of the other men, he fought tirelessly, and was rarely defeated.



Even the servants took their turn on the training ground. Parah was clumsy and less than enthusiastic, but Teliford wielded his sword with vigor.



Best of all, Kylene enjoyed watching Hardane put his big gray war-horse through its paces. The stallion moved effortlessly, wheeling, rearing, turning left and then right, horse and rider so keenly attuned to one another they seemed like one being. So beautiful were they to watch, it was almost as if they were dancing instead of practicing for battle.



In the evening, she watched the furtive glances, the shared smiles, the touches that passed between her father and Sharilyn. A blind man could have seen that they were smitten with each other. Kylene was happy that her father had apparently found someone to love, but she couldn't help being a bit shocked at how soon Sharilyn seemed to have gotten over her husband's demise.



In Mouldour, it was customary for a woman to remain in seclusion at least a year after the death of her husband. But this wasn't Mouldour.



"The Wolffan don't stop living when someone dies," Hardane told her one evening. "The grief is still there, the pain lingers, but they don't mourn the way your people do. It doesn't mean she didn't love my father, or that she doesn't miss him. It's just that the Wolffan have a deeper understanding of how brief our life span is. It may seem disrespectful to you, but not to us. Why should my mother waste a year of her life in seclusion when it changes nothing? When she could be spending that time with your father?"



"And would you be so quick to marry again should you find yourself suddenly widowed?" Kylene asked tartly.



Hardane shook his head, and then he took her hand and placed it over his heart. "There will never be another woman for me, beloved. I understand my people's beliefs, but in this instance we disagree, and even though I understand how my mother feels and wish her every happiness, I'll never marry again."



"I didn't mean that," Kylene said. "I wouldn't want you to spend the rest of your life alone. It just seems that everything is happening so fast."



Lifting her hand, he brushed her knuckles with his lips. "You're the only woman for me, Kylene," he murmured fervently. "Now and forever."



It was on the first day of spring that a messenger arrived at the castle with the news that everyone had been dreading: more than two dozen warships flying the black and gold flags of Mouldour and the green and orange flags of Corianton had been seen approaching the coast of Argone near Dubrey's holdings.



Other messengers had carried the news to Hardane's brothers and sister. Farmers from nearby towns arrived at the keep in droves. The men would help defend the castle in exchange for protection for their women, children, and livestock.



The first battle was fought by Dubrey's warrior knights. Badly outnumbered, they put up a fierce fight before retreating to the protection of the castle. Dubrey sent a runner to Castle Argone to warn Hardane that Renick's men were heading in his direction.



Kylene read the end of Dubrey's message over Hardane's shoulder:



We inflicted severe damage to Renick's army, but our own losses were far greater than his. Assure my mother that I'm well . . .



Kylene felt as though a cold fist were wrapping around her insides when she saw the look in Hardane's eyes.



"What are you going to do?" she asked.



"What would you have me do?"



She hesitated to answer even as she refused to meet his piercing gaze. She wished that she possessed the same stalwart courage that Hardane and his family seemed blessed with, but she could not control her fear. For most of her life, she had lived in seclusion, protected from even the mildest acts of violence. The thought of fighting and bloodshed were foreign to her, against everything she had been taught. But overriding all other concerns was her fear for Hardane.



Hardane placed a finger beneath her chin and forced her to meet his gaze.



"What would you have me do, lady?" he asked again.



"I don't know. I only know that I'm afraid. For you. For us."



Hardane put his arm around her shoulders and drew her close. "I know," he murmured absently. "I know."



"Please don't fight him."



Hardane drew in a deep breath, knowing that this time he could not accede to her wishes. Had he fulfilled his vow to avenge his father, Kylene's life would not now be in danger.



"Hardane?"



"Do you want me to run away?" he asked, struggling to control his anger.



"Would you?"



"Not this time, lady. There are too many people depending on me."



She heard the barely suppressed fury in his voice and was swamped with a sudden sense of guilt, knowing that he was blaming her because Renick was here. Because of her, he had not fulfilled his vow to avenge Lord Kray. Because of her, the Interrogator was here now, threatening the lives of everyone in the castle. Because of her . . .



Before she could apologize, before she could tell him how sorry she was for her cowardice, Carrick entered the room, closely followed by Jared, Sharilyn, and Teliford.



"Well, what are we going to do?" Jared asked.



"Defend ourselves," Hardane replied curtly. "I want every available archer on the parapets. I want six of our best swordsmen at the gatehouse. Jared, I want you and a dozen of your best men to patrol the keep. Advise Kruck to have the Sea Dragon ready to sail at a moment's notice. Mother, if Renick's men should make it into the keep, I want you and Kylene to leave immediately."



"No." Both women spoke at the same time.



"I'm not asking you, I'm telling you. I want you both to take the tunnel in my room and leave the castle. The Sea Dragon is anchored in the cove east of the waterfall."



"I won't leave you," Kylene protested.



Hardane placed his hand over her swollen belly. "Please, lady, don't argue with me about this. If Renick breaches our defenses, I want you to leave Argone."



Kylene shook her head. "No."



"Mother?"



"Don't worry about us, Hardane," Sharilyn replied quietly. "We'll do as you say. Won't we, daughter?"



Kylene turned mutinous eyes in her mother-in-law's direction and then, seeing the warning there, knowing that Hardane would be able to fight better if he wasn't worrying about her, she nodded. "Yes."



"Good. Once the fighting starts, I want the two of you to go to my room and stay there." He looked down at Kylene, imprinting her image on his mind. "Promise me?"



"Aye, my lord wolf," she murmured. "I promise."



Carrick cleared his throat. "Hardane?"



"Is there a problem?" Hardane asked, his gaze still on his wife's face.



"No. I . . ." Carrick's voice trailed off and a flood of red swept into his cheeks. "I want to marry your mother. Now. Tonight."



Hardane looked up, frowning.



Kylene gasped in surprise. Get married! So soon?



Hardane glanced at his mother. Her cheeks, too, were flushed, but her eyes were sparkling.



"Is this what you want?" he asked.



Sharilyn took Carrick's hand in hers. "Do we have your blessing?"



Hardane nodded. "Aye, mother mine. But are you sure you don't want to wait until my brothers and Morissa can attend you?"



"We don't want to wait," Sharilyn answered.



Hardane nodded again, readily understanding her urgency. She was afraid Carrick might be killed in battle, afraid that they might never be able to consummate their love.



"Teliford, summon the priest. We'll hold the ceremony in the castle chapel in an hour."



"And you, daughter?" Lord Carrick asked. "Do we have your blessing as well?"



"Yes, Father," Kylene replied quietly. "I hope you find the same happiness with Sharilyn that I've found with her son."



An hour later, they gathered in the small family chapel. The Wolffan priest stood behind the tall white stone altar. He was clothed in a long black robe. In one hand he held a pink candle, in the other, a sachet filled with vervain, yarrow, rosemary, basil, and lovage.



Sharilyn and Carrick stood side by side. She wore a full-skirted pale blue gown that emphasized the ebony of her hair and eyes; he wore a pair of fawn-colored breeches and a wine-red shirt.



Hardane and Kylene stood behind their parents. Behind them, seated in the first pew, were Jared, Hadj, Teliford, Parah, and Nan.



"Sharilyn of Argone, is it your wish to wed Carrick of Mouldour, here present?"



"It is."



"Wilt thou forsake all others, and honor his name from this time forward?"



"I will."



"Carrick of Mouldour, is it your wish to wed Sharilyn of Argone, here present?"



"Aye."



"Wilt thou forsake all others? Wilt thou honor and protect her from this time forward?"



There was a heavy silence as Carrick pondered those words. Protect her. Protect her from harm, from Renick. Aye, he'd protect her with his life, if necessary.



"I will," he answered solemnly.



"Then I bless this union in the name of the Father of Us All and decree that thou art life-mated from this night forward." The priest nodded in Carrick's direction, a faint smile creasing his aged face. "My lord, you may kiss your bride."



Kylene felt tears well in her eyes as her father placed his hands on Sharilyn's shoulders and looked deep into her eyes.



"All that I have, all that will ever be mine, I will gladly share with you," he murmured, and then, very gently, he kissed her.



Kylene glanced up as she felt Hardane's hand on her arm. "Why do you weep?" he asked.



"It's so beautiful," she said, sniffling. "I don't remember my mother, and I'm . . . I'm just happy that my father has found someone to share his life with."



Hardane bent to kiss her cheek, and then he went to embrace his mother and offer his congratulations to Carrick.



From the chapel, they went into one of the family's private rooms to drink a toast to Sharilyn and Carrick. It was obvious that, even though they'd known each other only a short time, the bride and groom were very much in love. Sharilyn couldn't keep her eyes from her new husband, and Carrick found numerous excuses to touch his wife's arm, her shoulder, her hand.



No one was surprised when Carrick announced, rather abruptly, that he was tired. Sharilyn's cheeks were a becoming shade of pink as she bid Kylene and Hardane a good night, then followed her husband upstairs.



Teliford and the other servants also took their leave.



"So," Hardane said, "alone at last."



"They seem happy, don't they?"



"Very. And you, lady, are you happy?"



"Very, but . . ."



"But?"



"I'm worried, Hardane, worried and afraid."



"I know."



"Why won't Renick leave us alone? Why can't he be happy with the throne of Mouldour?"



"Some men are never satisfied. No matter how much land they own, they always want more. More land. More gold. More silver. I fear Renick is like that. If he conquers Argone, he still won't be satisfied."



Kylene rested her cheek on Hardane's chest. "It isn't just Argone he wants," she remarked, "and you know it. He wants your power."



Hardane grunted softly.



"Can't you give him what he wants? What difference does it make if he can turn into a wolf?"



"No difference, perhaps, but I told him the truth. The secret of the Wolffan isn't a trick. It's not a magic spell that can be passed from one man to another. It's what I am, Kylene, not something I do."



"But . . ."



"He knows he can't obtain the power, Kylene. That's not why he's here."



"Then why?"



"The prophesy, Kylene. He'll never rest easy on the throne of Mouldour so long as we live."



"What are we to do?"



What are we to do? Hardane gazed down into her eyes, his heart and soul overflowing with love for her.



"Do?" he murmured as he swung her into his arms. "We're going to bed, lady, that's what we're going to do."



Lowering his head, he kissed her, savoring the sweetness of her lips, delighting in the way her breath caught at his touch.



"We're going to forget about Renick," he whispered. "For this night, we're going to forget about everyone and everything else."



Swiftly, he carried her up the winding staircase to their room. Hadj had already been there, lighting the candles, laying a fire in the hearth, turning down the bedclothes. A jug of wine awaited their pleasure.



With infinite care and tenderness, Hardane sat Kylene on the edge of the bed and then he undressed her, pressing butterfly-soft kisses to her neck, her shoulders, her breasts. His hands caressed her rounded stomach, his heart swelling with happiness as he thought of his sons resting there beneath Kylene's heart.



He glanced up at her as he felt a lusty kick. "Does it hurt you?"



Kylene smiled at him as she shook her head. "No. It feels wonderful."



"I love you," he murmured.



"I love you."



She ran her fingers through his hair, loving the way it felt in her hands.



And then she undressed him, her breath quickening as her gaze moved over him. He was beautiful to see, she thought, her hand skimming over his broad chest and flat belly. His skin was dark bronze, smooth and even, his muscles rippling beneath her touch.



She was ready for him when he pressed her back against the soft feather mattress. His breath was warm against her cheek as he whispered her name, telling her that she was more lovely than the sunrise, that he loved her, that he needed her more than his next breath.



Tears filled her eyes as he became a part of her, making her whole and complete at last.



It was only later, when Hardane lay sleeping in her arms, that she remembered the Interrogator was near.