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T he dense fog slithered up the hill with silent menace. Maud watched it surround the castle walls and spill out over the serrated cliffs. “How odd,” she remarked. “It usually comes from the sea.”

Melissa shrugged her shoulders as if it made no matter.

She studied the mist but could no longer see the cliffs through the haze.

A full moon hovered in the sky. Dark clouds passed over it, leaving them in momentary darkness.

The hair on the nape of her neck went up as a lone wolf howled somewhere in the blackness.

A tiny smile curled her lips. A banging on the door gave a brief warning before the heavy door crashed open, hitting the stone wall with a loud thud.

Charles stood with boots apart, slapping his leather gauntlets against his padded tunic.

The chain mail chinked softly with each movement.

His hair was damp from the fog, his face covered in a light sheen.

“I received word from the King. Release my betrothed or face the consequences. Fie. I will have what is rightfully mine.”

But it was his eyes that made her swallow. Impassive and hard as ice. Here was a man with nothing to lose. Roker had come to the edge of an abyss.

“God’s teeth, what kind of devil’s work is this?” It was a growl, like a mad dog. He stalked across the room and stopped in front of the two women. Taking a fistful of Melissa’s hair, he twisted it around his wrist and pulled her head down to his chest. “What have you done, my love?”

“How could I have done anything?” she asked through clamped teeth. “You have kept me under lock and key since you kidnapped me.”

He pulled her up, nose to nose. “You will watch as I destroy him, piece by piece, as he watches me enjoy you. One”—he grabbed her waist with his other hand and ground his hips into hers—“thrust at a time.” Then he threw her to the floor and stormed out.

Melissa held herself steady with one hand and rubbed her aching scalp with the other.

“He’s lost all reason,” cried Maud. “Mercy, oh Lord, have mercy on my soul.” She fell to her knees, her hands raised in prayer, sobbing and mumbling to the heavens.

Melissa rose and pulled out the amulet. The color was a deep plum with only a slight circular movement.

What did it mean? Another howl outside the window then the sound of shouting and explosion.

The castle was under attack. She ran to the door and pulled with all her might.

In his rage, he hadn’t secured the lock.

She picked up her skirts and hurried down the steps, one hand against the slick wall for support.

Running through the main hall, she halted at the entrance.

The bailey was chaos. Fireballs catapulted into the battlements, some bouncing into the courtyard.

A bright globe of flame illuminated the yard.

It died out only to be replaced by another which came sailing over the wall.

A thick eddy of smoke circled and twisted around the men, forms seen and not seen as it whirled in and out and around them.

A flaming body ran past the great hall. She put her hands to her ears to drown out his bloodcurdling scream.

Through an opening in the smoke, a small group of knights appeared.

One stood much taller than the rest. As they moved closer, she thought she recognized William.

But how… Moving her gaze to the man in front, she gasped.

The man moved forward with power and grace, his sword ready by his side, a shield in his fist. A coif swayed rhythmically on his shoulders as his body strode forward with purpose.

His eyes, those glorious golden eyes, locked onto hers, holding her in place. Rolf!

The amulet began to pound frantically. Or was that her heart?

Chest heaving, she clutched at her chest and realized it was a warning.

A hand went over her mouth and an arm around her waist. Melissa’s nails dug into the door frame as she was pulled back into the castle.

Rolf broke into a run. A man blocked his path and was knocked to the ground with his shield.

She heard Charles roar in anger, her fingers lost their grip, and the door slammed shut.

He tossed Melissa over his shoulder and threw the heavy beam across the door.

At a run, he ducked out of one hall and headed down some stairs.

As he took a turn at full speed, her head hit the stone corner and darkness closed in around her.

***

Rolf had given in to his desire and taken to the air to see his wife. Fie! He couldn’t wait another two weeks. But her bed had been empty. In the great hall, he found Trystan near the hearth with a black eye and bruised face. His nose looked broken.

“What horse trampled you, boy?”

Trystan’s eyes grew wide and Rolf smelled fear. “What is it?”

He shook his head, tears shining in his eyes. “I did what I could, I swear. They got me from behind.” He went on his knees, his head down. “Have mercy, milord. Have mercy.”

Rolf squatted down and put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Trystan, look at me. I just need to know what happened. Where is my wife?” A coldness filled his body as Merlin’s words ricocheted in his head. I had a vision. Danger surrounding her… Beware!

“We were collecting herbs in the woods. We had Sir William and another knight with us. They killed Sir Baylor and tied me to a tree. William took down two before...”

“ N O ! NO!” He slammed a fist into the bench. “NOOO!”

Cristiana ran into the hall in a thin kirtle, her arms held out to him, auburn hair streaming behind her. “Brother, calm down. We sent word as soon as it happened.”

“How long has she been gone?”

“Since yesterday afternoon. I sent men out immediately but to no avail. I’ve been tending William and waiting for word.” She grabbed his arm and forced him to look at her. “You must be rational if you hope to get her back alive. Remember your training.”

He nodded and began to pace. “How bad is William?”

“Not fatal, I will be ready.” The giant stood with his feet apart, a shirt loosely tied but opened to his waist. Bandages wrapped around his chest showed a bright stain on his left.

“You failed me, Blackbourne.”

“Yea, I did. But I will die fighting to get her back.”

“You are bleeding again,” cried Cristiana. She turned to Rolf. “He is in no condition to ride a horse and fight.”

“William? Are you fit?”

“Yea, I be fit enough to kill those slimy curs. It takes more than a battle ax and blade to do me in.”

“Good enough. Gather the men and I’ll talk to Merlin. We need a plan.”

Rolf soon learned the castle was practically impregnable. An army would never make it up the long hill without being seen. A siege was nearly impossible. He rubbed his face with his palms. “So what are you telling me, Merlin?

“She is alive, Rolf, and will stay that way as long as she wears the amulet. Keep your head. But you will need the force of magic to get to that fortress. Let me help you.”

Two days later, they had made camp at the bottom of Sunderland castle.

He had a hundred men and Leicester was sending more.

The King had issued an order to release Lady Arbrec, but Rolf wasn’t waiting for the duke to see reason.

There had been some relief when he had seen Melissa for himself. If he had touched her…

A big paw clamped his shoulder. “The men are a bit nervous but ready. It will take nothing short of a miracle to make it up that hill, especially with the two catapults. What did you and Merlin come up with?”

“We attack tonight.”

He built the fire as the moon rose into the sky.

It was a cloudy night, so the moon was often covered, leaving little light.

Rolf arranged the kindling and started the fire.

He waved the smoke, inhaling the scent. Closing his eyes, he focused on his body until his weight was concentrated in his center.

He imagined himself floating, like the smoke, and opened his eyes.

With a deep breath, he blew into the fire.

The smoke rose and tilted. He filled his chest and blew again, concentrating on keeping his body light and diffusing his energy into the smoke.

Another gray puff curled around and moved through the trees and up the hill.

Rolf added more kindling. With each breath, more smoke filled the air and twisted up the hill until it covered the ground.

By the time he returned to his men-at-arms, the grounds were waist-high with fog.

He looked at William with a nod. They caught the guards by surprise.

The first catapult hit its mark, and the second followed right behind.

They heard the chaos and continued the assault while the siege ladder went up.

The mist had entered the castle and half of Roker’s men tried to flee for fear of witchcraft.

He took about five men and Blackbourne with him and fought his way into the bailey.

He had struck down one man and pushed on when he saw her.

A vision of blonde loveliness, standing in a doorway at the castle entrance.

Her chest heaved from exertion and he knew she had escaped her chamber.

Rolf fixed his gaze on her and she smiled.

He would not take his eyes off her until he held her in his arms.

Her hand went to her chest and then a shadow appeared behind her. Roker grabbed her, but she clung to the door like a wild cat, kicking and scratching. Rolf’s heart slammed against his chest, and he broke into a run, keeping his eyes locked with hers and willing her to hold on.