Sword of Darkness

Chapter 10



Seren narrowed her gaze on him. "I don't like the sound of the word ‘doom.' It's rather ominous."

"Not half as ominous as that army will be when it breaches the shield, kills me, and takes you."

She gave a fake shudder. "I can feel the warmth of your sunshine, my lord. It overwhelms me so."

Kerrigan actually smiled at her sarcastic words. "Are you always so pert in the face of danger?"

"Well, until I met you, the greatest danger I faced was making Master Rufus angry. His anger certainly pales in comparison to yours and Morgen's."

She said the words lightly, and yet they set an indignant fire deep inside him. One that didn't like the thought of someone harming her. "Did he ever hurt you in his anger?"

Seren looked away.

His anger doubled. "Seren, answer me."

She shrugged as she moved away from the window. "I'm his apprentice, my lord. He was in full right to punish me whenever I overstepped my bounds."

He took her arm, pulling her up short. "Punish you how?"

Her green eyes cut through him as she looked up at him. "How does anyone punish an insignificant servant?"

Kerrigan didn't know why, but the thought of another man laying a hand on her went through him like acid. "He struck you?"

"Does it matter?"

"To me it does."

She glanced down at his hand. Kerrigan let go as he realized his grip must be biting.

"Why?" she asked simply. "You have told me repeatedly that you hold no regard for my life. What then does it matter how I'm treated by my master?"

It shouldn't matter. He shouldn't care at all. And yet…

"Why do you wish to return to such a life?"

"Because it was my life, Kerrigan. Mine. And it was a good one. I had friends who loved me." Her gaze turned dreamy. "Wendlyn is a beautiful girl who works beside me in the shop. She has a crush on the butcher's son who comes by to deliver meat to Mistress Maude. Then there is Mildred, who weaves off to the side. She doesn't say much, but she hums often to herself. And there's Robert, Master Rufus's son who will turn eight this year. He's a bit mischievous, but a good lad nonetheless who oft fetches us supplies when we need them."

He could hear the love in her voice as she spoke of the people who'd made up her world. "But if they treat you badly—"

"I never said they treated me badly. All of us have an off day or two. We are human and should be forgiven our faults."

He shook his head at her. "You astound me, Seren. I've never met anyone with your capacity for caring."

She lifted herself up on her toes until their gazes were almost level. "Then you've been spending time with the wrong sorts of people, my lord. Perhaps you should get out more."

He laughed out loud, amazed at the sound of something he hadn't heard in a lifetime. "Perhaps I should."

As Kerrigan turned back toward the window and the army that was still pounding his shield, he sobered. With every pounding beat of the battering ram, he could feel that strike against his powers.

They were weakening him. Each blow shattered through his body, pounding painfully.

"Aw, screw this," he snarled an instant before he threw his hands out and sent a shatter bolt of lightning through the gargoyles and dragons.

Seren was stunned as the very air around them shimmered from his powers. Even her hair stood on end as what appeared to be lightning shot from Kerrigan's fingertips to the gargoyles who were battering his invisible shield.

The tree splintered into tiny pieces that rained through the air. The gargoyles went hurtling toward the ground. Kerrigan started to laugh, until he stumbled again. The lightning shot back into his body as he braced his hand against the stone sill.

His face was even paler than before. His hands were shaking as he grimaced and turned to press his spine against the stone wall. He leaned his head back and laughed shakily. "That was a most idiotic expenditure of my powers, but it was worth it." His dark eyes were gleaming as he gave her a crooked smile. "Did you see them fall?"

She shook her head at him. There was something about him that reminded her of a little boy who'd been punished for doing something he knew not to, and yet was proud of what he'd done. "It was quite lovely the way they hurtled through the air. And did it gain you anything?"

"Nothing but satisfaction, and there is much to be said for that."

She rolled her eyes. "Are you all right?"

He drew a deep breath before he pushed himself away from the wall. "I'm not fallen or defeated yet."

"Good. I hope you can continue to say that."

He squeezed her hand and then stiffened as if he'd realized what he'd done and it somehow embarrassed him. He let go immediately.

He glanced back out the window. "Pity I don't want to expend more energy. I'm sure I could take down a mandrake or two while I'm at it."

She patted him on the shoulder as she would Robert in the shop whenever he was particularly proud of some accomplishment. "And I'm equally sure that they are grateful you don't."

He rubbed his hand over his chest. "Remind me not to do that again, by the way."

"Does it hurt?"

"Only when I move…or breathe."

"Then I would say not to breathe, but that could have consequences most dire."

"No doubt. Now if you'll excuse me, I should like to go lie down for a bit."

Seren was rather surprised by his words. "You would admit that to me?"

Again he gave her that almost charming lopsided grin. "'Tis less damaging to my ego than passing out and less dangerous as well."

"Then come," she said, reaching her hand out to him. "I shall lead you back to your room. Unless you wish to pop us there."

He took her hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm. "Nay. We'll have to use our feet. I can't afford another blast to my powers right now."

Seren didn't say a word as she led him through the castle, back to her chambers. She kept her hand in his arm while they made their way very slowly upstairs.

"Where do you think Blaise has gotten off to?" she asked. "I haven't seen him at all."

"Hiding most like. He won't come unless I summon him."

"Why didn't you summon him to fight the gargoyles?"

"There wasn't much he could do to fight them. Had he engaged them, he would have been harmed."

Seren released him to open the door to his room as those words went through her. He'd thought of someone other than himself. She considered pointing it out to him, but then thought better of it. Kerrigan seemed to like thinking of himself as evil. But as she learned more of him, she saw less of the demon and more of the man. He wasn't the callous devil he presented to the world.

There was a heart that still beat within him, and it gave her hope that he would be the father her child would need to protect it from Morgen and her plans.

Without another word to her, Kerrigan went to lie upon the bed. That alone told her just how weak he must be. He wasn't the kind of person to show his weakness to anyone.

She stood back as he reclined with one leg drawn up.

"Is there anything I can get you, my lord?"

"A Tylenol would be great."

She frowned at his peculiar word. "A what?"

"Nothing, little mouse. There is nothing else I need."

"Then I shall leave you to the quiet."

He didn't respond as he closed his eyes and settled back. But she had to admit that even while he rested, he made a fearsome sight with his black armor covering a body that was rife with strength.

And she noted the way he kept both of his hands on his sword as if ready to attack anyone foolish enough to draw near it. Poor man that he couldn't even rest peacefully. No wonder he'd stabbed her when she'd neared him.

How many times had Morgen or one of her men tried to take the sword from him so that they could replace him as king? She couldn't imagine having no friend or haven.

Feeling for him, Seren left the room. She wasn't sure where Blaise had gone to, but she wanted another word with the specter of Lancelot.

It didn't take her long to return to his crypt. The torches had burned down to a light so low that she could scarce see. It was so cold now that her breath formed a small cloud around her head. She heard the scurrying of mice in the darkness, but nothing else. Only the pounding of her own heart.

"Lancelot?" she called. "Are you here?"

"Behind you."

She turned to face him.

He shimmered faintly between this world and his own. His rugged face held an ethereal beauty that was almost feminine. Yet he exuded masculine power and intensity. "Are you ready to leave here?"

"Nay," she said honestly. "I have spoken to Lord Kerrigan and he has told me that you are the one who spoke falsely."

Shock registered on his face. "Me? How so?"

"You said that he fed on the blood of children. He doesn't."

He tsked at her. "How do you know he isn't the liar then?"

"I believe him and what he had to say about it," she said with conviction. "But I want to know why it is that you lied."

"And I still say that I am not the liar, my lady. Have you seen Kerrigan feed yet?"

Seren hesitated. "Nay, not exactly, but he placed his hand to my chest to show me how he draws his strength from the living."

"And did he draw that strength from you?"

"I felt the tingle of it."

"But he didn't feed, did he?"

Seren folded her arms over her chest as she moved away from him and considered his words.

Lancelot moved to block her retreat. "I am on your side in this matter, Seren. Kerrigan is a powerful demon who can command the elements as he did to attack the gargoyles. Is it not possible he used such a trick with you?"

Aye, it was possible, and she knew it. Still, she believed Kerrigan. "Why are you making me doubt him?"

"Because he is evil to the marrow of his bones, and evil will never do what is right. Your only hope to survive this is to trust me. Steal his sword and scabbard, and I will take you from here to a place where no one will ever be able to harm you or your babe again."

Seren stared at him as his words chased themselves around in her mind. How good he made it sound. How tempting.

"You know something, Lancelot?"

He arched an expectant brow.

"I don't trust you. You've done nothing yet to help me. You tell me to grab his sword and then you'll help. If you're really good and he isn't, then you'll help me without condition. Until you do, I think I shall trust myself and myself alone. Because in this, I am the only one who truly has my best interest at heart, and that is the only thing I don't doubt. God save you."

And with those words spoken, she turned about and started for the door.

"Seren, wait."

She hesitated at his call. "Aye?"

His shimmering eyes pierced her with anger. "Go, throw your lot in with your devil, and when he devours you and your child, remember that you were offered a chance to save both your lives."

His words set off her anger. How dare he say such. "Have no fear. I will bear full responsibility for everything." She headed out of the chapel.

Seren didn't know if what she did was right, but she hoped it was. As she'd said, she had no one else to trust. Her instincts had always been keen. She could always tell an honest client from a dishonest one. It was one of the things Master Rufus valued most about her.

Kerrigan wasn't as evil as he appeared. She truly felt that he was as Blaise had said. When given kindness, Kerrigan did respond to it. He would protect her and he would love this baby. She knew it.

As she started up the stairs, Lancelot appeared before her, blocking her way. She drew up short while he continued to glare as if he couldn't bear the sight of her.

"You're a feebleminded woman."

"I beg your pardon!" But before she could say anything more, a strange haze engulfed her. Seren tried to move, only to find that she couldn't.

"Had you obeyed me, we might have let you live in blissful ignorance of what befell your lover. Oh, well. Now you will deliver that sword to me and we will kill Kerrigan together. Now go."

Something inside Seren rebelled at his words, but even so she found herself on the stairs again.

"Kill Kerrigan." The command repeated itself over and over in her mind until she could hear nothing else.

It spread through her, consuming her. Drowning out all arguments and all feelings. There was nothing inside her except a demanding blackness that held her in the tightest of grips…

Aye, she must kill Kerrigan.

Kerrigan lay on his side with his eyes closed as he tried to stay focused on the shield that was again being battered by Morgen's troops. A cold sweat covered him. What he really wanted to do was sleep, but he didn't dare.

He'd pulled off all his armor and wore nothing but the tunic Seren had given him and a pair of breeches. Caliburn lay beside him, barely a hand's breadth away.

As he heard someone enter the room, he reached for the sword to take it by the hilt. He rolled to his back to see Seren entering.

He let go of Caliburn and relaxed. She was truly a vision as she drew near him. Even dressed as a lad, she was all woman, and she was the best thing he'd ever seen in his life. "I thought you were leaving me to rest."

A tender smile softened her face and stole his breath. "I was thinking that I might be able to help you with that."

He was about to ask her how when she placed her hand to his hip. All rational thought fled his mind.

Her eyes were dark and hungry as she dipped her head toward his and captured his lips with her own. Kerrigan growled at how good she tasted. He'd never known anyone sweeter. He cupped her head in his hand as he pulled her back so that she could lie atop him.

She nipped and tugged at his mouth with a boldness that surprised him. "My little mouse is hungry."

She smiled at him before she whipped his tunic over his head and tossed it to the floor. And as she climbed onto the bed to straddle him, a tremor of suspicion went through him.

She hadn't mentioned the tunic…

No sooner had the thought gone through his head than she grabbed Caliburn from his side. Kerrigan rose as she launched herself from the bed. The leather scabbard slid across his bare stomach before it clattered to the floor. She retrieved it quickly and pulled the sword free of the scabbard.

"What is this?" he demanded angrily.

He saw the sword's power fill her eyes until they flickered like fire in the dim light of the room. Power surged through the room while the sword acclimated itself to her.

Her eyes rolled back into her head as she shook all over. Lightning flashed, raising the hair on his body as it crackled.

Kerrigan froze. He'd been evil when he found the sword. Seren was good. He had no idea what the power of Caliburn would do to her. Unlike Arthur's Excalibur, this sword had been created by the fey to channel the darker powers. It wasn't meant to be held by a decent human. It was meant to be controlled by a dark Merlin.

"Seren," he said firmly, yet he took care to not frighten her in any manner. With that sword, she could kill him easily. "Look at me."

More lightning flashed as her pale hair whipped around her shoulders as if caught in the midst of an invisible wind. Her face went from human to ghastly, then back again.

"Seren, put the sword down. Slowly."

"Nay," she said breathlessly. "It is part of me." She moved to swing it at him.

Kerrigan held himself completely still. "If you swing that sword, Seren, you will kill me. Instantly. That's the power of it. I wear no enchanted armor to deflect the blade. It will cut through me like a scythe through wheat."

Seren could see Kerrigan only through a blazing haze. His voice was distorted in her ears and sounded demonesque. She'd never felt anything like this. She was drunk on her own power, on the knowledge that no one could hurt her or her baby so long as she held this sword in her hands.

She was all powerful. Not even Morgen could touch her now.

Throwing her head back, she laughed at the victory. The entire world could be hers…Hers!

No one could stop her.

Ever!

"Put. The. Sword. Down."

"Nay," she snarled at him. She smiled evilly as she relished the battle to come. "Take it from me if you're able."

He held his hands out in surrender. "I'm not able to take it from you, Seren, and I know it. You're going to have to look me in the eye and kill me.Me. The father of your child."

Hissing, she angled the sword up shoulder high, grasped it in both hands, and started toward him.

Kerrigan held his breath as he waited for the hot sensation of the blade plunging through him.

It would be what he deserved.

And then just as the blade should have skewered him, Seren slammed her body into his, forcing him to take a step back. She threw one arm about his neck and buried her face into his shoulder. "Help me," she whispered in a small, agonized voice that sounded more like the woman he knew. "Take it from me, Kerrigan. I don't want it."

"I can't," he said between clenched teeth as he held her against him. "No one can take the sword from the one hand that wields it. So long as it is free of the scabbard, I can't do anything. You have to let it go."

She screamed out as she tore herself away from him. He could see how much pain she was in. The sword wasn't designed for her. She lacked the bloodline or magic to carry it. And if he didn't get it back, the sword would burn her alive.

Summoning his own powers, he approached her slowly until he could pull her back against him. He held her to his chest and covered her soft, warm hands with his cold ones. She trembled against him. The scent of roses enveloped him as he leaned his head down to help steady her.

His heart thundered as he sought to help her any way he could. "Reach down inside, Seren, and force your will onto the sword."

She let out a cry of despair. "It wants me to kill you. I don't want to…"

He gentled his voice as he spoke softly to her. "The sword serves you, not the other way around. Focus on what you want."

"I want the pain to stop."

"Then hand the sword to me."

Kerrigan jerked his head up as he heard the last voice he expected. It was a voice he hadn't heard since the day he'd found Caliburn in the forest. And just as then, it was the same tall, dark-haired man who had tried to convince him to forsake Morgen and travel the road of the straight and narrow.

It was a path he'd gladly refused.

"Brea? Why are you here?" This was a member of the Tuatha Dé Danann, a group of powerful and ancient Celtic gods who were supposed to fight only on the side of good.

The old god glared at him with hatred and malice. "I'm here to set things right. Caliburn should never have been used by you or your kind. It is a sword meant for the gods and Brighid is tired of seeing it misused."

Brighid was the sister to the Lady of the Lake, the nymph who had forged King Arthur's sword, Excalibur. The two swords had been created together in order to bring balance so that no one Merlin would be the more powerful. Caliburn was the steel and Excalibur was the stone.

One sword to rule and the other to destroy. One a sword of light and the other a sword of darkness. It'd been a cruel twist of fate that Kerrigan had been the inheritor of Caliburn's power.

Kerrigan glared at the god. "Caliburn is mine by right of birth and of conquest."

Brea looked at Seren. He held his hand out to her. "You know what must be done, Seren. Return the sword to the side of good where it belongs."

Seren cried out as she fought against the god's powers. "Good doesn't lie."

Kerrigan didn't know who was more stunned by her words. He or Brea.

The god frowned at her. "What?"

She trembled visibly in his arms, but made no move to leave them. "You lied to me. You told me…" She leaned her head back against Kerrigan's shoulder. "Take your sword, my lord. I don't want it."

The moment her words were spoken, her hands fell away, allowing Kerrigan to take it back.

Brea cursed. "Imbecilic chit. Have you any idea what you've done?"

Seren was whispering to herself. An instant later, she shot a lightning bolt of her own at the ancient god. "I will not kill for you or anyone else. Ever."

Brea's face hardened. "Then you have damned the world of man to darkness. I hope you can live with that." He vanished.

Kerrigan held the sword with the point against the floor as Seren turned to face him. Her eyes were once again the beautiful green shade that rendered him captivated. He saw the relief in her pale features and the fear.

She ran her hands over her arms as if to warm herself. "How do you handle the sword's power?"

"I get a lot of aches in my head from it."

She gave a short laugh before she sobered. "It burns like fire. It felt like it was trying to devour me."

He nodded. "Power consumes. Always."

She looked down at her open hands, then clenched them shut as if she'd seen something in her palms that had frightened her. "I don't want that kind of power in my hands. Ever again. Only God should have the power of life and death over another."

Kerrigan was completely baffled by this woman. Men killed to possess one tiny iota of what she'd had in her hands a moment ago. No one had ever taken this sword who hadn't fought to the death to keep it. No one.

Until her.

She'd handed it over without the least bit of reservation. It didn't make any sense to him. How could she have given away that kind of power?

She placed her hands over his. "I understand you now. The sword speaks to the worst part of you. To the animal that wants only to consume and kill others." She looked up at him from beneath her long lashes. That open, honest look burned him. "Let go of it, Kerrigan. For once, stand here with me without the sword whispering to you."

The sword cursed him in his head and demanded he hold tight to the hilt.

Kerrigan had always listened to it.

For once, he didn't. He let go of the sword so that it fell against the stone floor, then cupped her face in his hands.

Seren trembled as Kerrigan claimed her lips. His scent invaded every part of her while he explored her mouth with his. Their breaths mingled as she ran her hands over his back.

Giddy with her victory, she pulled back so that she could hug him close.

Until her eyes fell to the floor where the sword lay.

His foot was on it.

"Kerrigan!" she castigated as she pulled away. She put her hands on her hips before she looked back up at him. "You cheated."

He offered her a wicked grin. "A man can only do so much," he said unabashedly.

She shook her head at him. "You really can't let it go, can you?"

"I spent the whole of my youth hungry and beaten, wanting and aching for things that were beyond my grimy grasp. So long as I carry Caliburn, I know that no one will ever be able to mock or belittle me again. No one."

She heard the anguish in his tone. The pain that not even the centuries could erase. "But that sword is cold comfort on a lonely night."

"There you're wrong. It comforts me on a level unimaginable."

"And I would offer you even more comfort. If you would take it. Put your weapon away, Kerrigan. For one afternoon."

She knew the sword was still whispering to him. Somehow she could hear it now.

Stepping into his arms, she embraced him again.

Kerrigan couldn't think as Seren reclaimed his lips. The taste of her mouth nourished him in a way that defied description. She pressed her body closer to his as her tongue swept against his.

He could feel her nudging the sword away from him with her foot. It should anger him, but it didn't. It only amused him. Pulling away from her, he kicked the sword up from the floor and placed it in the brackets that were embedded in the stone above the bed. It would be within arm's reach, but not in their way.

He turned back to find Seren pulling her tunic over her head to bare her body to him. His breath caught in his throat as he saw the puckered tips of her small breasts.

Using more magic than he should, he conjured a large gilded tub of hot water and placed it before the hearth.

She gasped as it appeared.

"I thought you might wish a bath," he said as he closed the distance between them to help her remove her breeches.

"Aye, thank you."

As she stepped out of them, Kerrigan paused. He was kneeling before her with his gaze level on her belly. Deep inside her, his child was already growing.His child. A tiny part of him and her…

He looked up to find her staring down at him with a tender smile on her face as she played idly in his hair. In all his life, he'd never known anything like this one quiet moment.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, fingering the frown on his brow.

"Nay." He rose up from the floor so that he could pick her up and place her into the tub.

Seren sighed as the hot water lapped against her cool skin. Kerrigan kissed her lightly on the lips as he gently stroked her breasts with his cool hand. She wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him closer to her.

His breeches melted from him an instant before he joined her in the tub.

"Careful, my lord, you're expending your strength."

"I know, but I didn't want to wait for you."

She tsked at him. "Some things are best when savored."

"And others are best when devoured."

Seren bit her lip at the wave of desire those words conjured.

He sat back in the tub, then pulled her forward to straddle his waist while he soaped a small cloth.

Seren leaned forward to nibble his chin. His whiskers scraped her lips, making them tender, and yet she loved the prickly sensation against her tongue. Nothing had ever tasted better than her demon knight. As he soaped her breasts and teased them, Seren closed her eyes and imagined what she wanted for her future.

How she wished she could keep Kerrigan with her, like this. Just the two of them.

But she knew that she couldn't, and she didn't want to think about the future right now. In the past, she'd always known her plans. To become a journeywoman who owned her own shop and to find a decent man to marry.

Now…now she didn't know what the morrow would bring. She couldn't even begin to conceive it. She would be a mother to a powerful child that she would have to protect. Seren had no idea how she would even begin to manage such a new life.

Scared, she held Kerrigan close. He was an anchor for her. He was solid and real, and at least for this moment, he was keeping her safe.

Kerrigan held Seren close as she hugged him with a fierceness that astounded him. It wasn't a sexual hold, it was one of comfort. Her cheek was pressed against his as she held him in a death grip.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm frightened, Kerrigan. I don't want anything else to change."

"Everything changes in time, Lady Mouse. It is the way of things."

She sat up with her expression imploring him. "Can't you take your powers and make it stop? Can't you find some way to lose us here in this one moment for eternity?"

How he wished. But that wasn't possible. He cupped her cheek in his hand. "Nay. Those are far beyond my abilities. I don't know of anyone who can do such a thing."

"How I wish I could," she breathed. Then she fingered his lips, her face tender as she studied his features. It was as if she were trying to commit them to memory. "You are so beautiful. Were you always like this?"

"Nay. I used to be warm." And then he realized as he spoke that for the first time in centuries, he was warm again. Warm in a way that didn't make any sense.

His heart pounding at the thought, he kissed her deeply. Her hands skimmed his body as she returned his caresses. Unable to bear the separation, he lifted her up and placed her on top of him.

Seren moaned as Kerrigan filled her with his thickness. He leaned back against the lip of the tub to stare up at her. "Take your pleasure from me, Seren."

She wasn't sure what he meant until he lifted her up ever so slightly, then slid her back down on him. She hissed at the sensation of his long, deep stroke. Taking his cue, she rode him slowly, deeply.

Seren knew how limited their time together was and it sweetened the moment all the more. For all she knew, this could well be the last time she was with him. Morgen could take them at any moment. War and necessity could force them apart.

They could even die…

She shivered in fear as she considered all the things that could happen.

Kerrigan ran his hands over her breasts as they kissed and she continued to stroke his body with hers. He didn't know why, but in her arms, nothing else seemed to matter. He didn't care that there was an army outside waiting to separate them.

Didn't care that Morgen wanted him dead or that an angry god wanted her sword back.

None of that mattered. For the first time in his life, he could see beyond himself. This wasn't just about him and his needs. It was about Seren's.

The baby's.

He didn't just want to take his pleasure from her and leave; he wanted to give it back to her in return. Closing his eyes, he savored the sensation of her breasts on his chest, the feeling of her warm, soft skin sliding against his. She nipped his lips playfully before she pulled back to smile down at him.

His heart hammered at the seductive sight of her. Wanting more, he lifted his hips, driving himself even deeper into her body.

Seren groaned in pleasure as Kerrigan pierced her. She lifted his hand from the water to hold it in hers. His hand was so much larger. So strong. Her hand looked almost childlike in comparison. How she wished she had beautiful hands…like a lady. But her hands showed the scars and cuts of a peasant who worked hard for a living.

Yet Kerrigan didn't seem to care about any of that. His eyes blazing, he lifted her up and pressed her back against the opposite lip of the tub. Still inside her, he knelt between her legs as he took over thrusting for her.

She let go of his hand to hold herself up in the water. With her hands braced on the side of the tub, she leaned her head back as he moved even quicker.

Kerrigan growled at the sight of Seren open and inviting. The water pooled around her breasts, the peaks of which jutted up. Unable to stand it, he leaned down to capture one in his mouth. He teased the soft nipple with his tongue as he moved in and out of her body.

Seren buried her hand in his hair an instant before her cries of ecstasy filled his ears. He smiled in satisfaction as she came for him. He watched the pleasure play across her face as he continued to ride her.

She was truly beautiful.

And then he allowed himself to find his own piece of paradise. Burying himself deep, he shivered as his body burst into a thousand spasms.

Kerrigan didn't move for several heartbeats as complete satisfaction engulfed him. This was the most perfect moment of his life, and he wondered what it would be like to have more afternoons like this. To be able to stay with a woman and not have to worry about her deceiving him or trying to take his power from him.

Seren only gave. She asked for nothing in return.

Amazed by her, he got up and carried her from the tub to the bed.

Seren smiled as Kerrigan picked up the covers and joined her in the bed. Completely content, she lay on her back while he lifted himself up on his arms to tease her lips with a playful kiss.

He pulled back to stare down at her. "I'm growing weaker, Seren." His tone was angst-ridden as he confided that to her. "I won't be able to hold the shield past tomorrow."

Her stomach clenched at the thought of what would happen to them once the shield was gone. "What will Morgen do to you?"

"You should be more worried about yourself. Morgen won't need you once that child is born and, knowing her, she won't wait until it's born. She'll most likely cut it from you the instant it's able to live on its own."

Seren sucked in her breath at what he described. Surely not even Morgen was that cruel. Was she?

She felt tears sting her eyes at the thought of never seeing her child alive. Of never holding him in her arms. "I won't be here to protect him?"

He shook his head.

Anger scorched her. How could this be, and yet she knew of their magic. Knew of Morgen's cruelty.

In the end, this wasn't just about her. "Then promise me two things. Please."

Kerrigan had never made a promise in his life to anyone. At least none that he had any intention of keeping. Most likely, he wouldn't keep these, either, but he was curious as to what she'd ask of him.

"Aye?"

"Promise me you will protect the baby for me. That you will make sure no one ever hurts him."

Her request baffled him. "Why is that so important to you?"

"Because it's what a mother does."

Kerrigan still didn't understand the request. But there was no need to deny it, either. "And what is your other request?"

"Marry me in secrecy before I show my pregnancy."

Kerrigan stared at her in complete stupefaction. That had been the last thing he'd expected her to ask. "Marry you?"

She nodded grimly. "I won't be here long enough for you to worry over and I don't expect you to honor the vows. But I want my child born in wedlock. I don't want him to be stigmatized by something he had no part in. If Morgen takes him early, no one need know that he wasn't legitimately conceived." She reached up and closed his mouth, which he hadn't realized was gaping open. "Please, Kerrigan."

He didn't know what to say to her. The last thing he wanted to tell her just then was that he wouldn't be around much longer himself. Once the child was born and lived, Morgen would kill him, too, and hand his sword over to the child to wield.

"Seren—"

She placed a finger over his lips to silence his words. "Please, Kerrigan," she repeated. "For the child who won't be able to fight for himself."

He nibbled the tip of her finger, before he pulled it away from his lips. "I won't do this for the child, Seren. But I will do it for you."

Those words brought tears to her eyes. Kerrigan stiffened as the tears fell down her face.

So his strong little mouse did indeed cry. Not for her lost freedom. Not for her sacrificed virginity…

She cried over mere words.

Before he could move, she seized him and pulled him down for a kiss that left him dizzy.

He'd never tasted anything like it, and it caused his body to stir again. Aye, if these were to be his last moments of freedom with Seren, then he wanted to spend them inside her for as long as he could.

Just as he slid his knee between her legs, a knock sounded on his door. "What?" he roared.

"I need a word with you."

Kerrigan growled in frustration at the sound of Blaise's voice. Now the mandrake made an appearance?

Now?!

The last thing he wanted was to leave this bed, but Blaise seldom made such requests. It must be important for Blaise to disturb him. "Give us a moment."

Seren kissed his cheek before she scooted out from underneath him so she could dress. Normally Kerrigan would flash himself back into his clothes. But the last thing he needed was to drain any more of his powers. He'd used enough removing their clothes.

He pulled on his breeches and then noticed that Seren held the red tunic in her hands. A slight smile hovered at the edge of her lips.

"You were wearing it?"

He nodded.

Her smile widened. "Then I hope it brings you good luck. The same luck that brought you to me."

He snorted. "I wouldn't count that as luck, mouse. More like ill fortune and madness."

"Nay," she said with a shake of her head. "It was a great day." She moved to place the tunic on the bed next to him. "I'll wait in the great hall."

Kerrigan nodded. He was trying to fasten his greave on his right leg when she opened the door to the hallway. Every time he came close to lacing it, it slipped. Holding it with his hand, he was trying to tighten the laces, which were at an awkward angle. This was a lot harder to do by himself without magic.

"Having problems?"

Kerrigan pulled the sword from the wall into his grip. "No. Why?"

"You look like you're having problems. You know, all you have to do is insert tab A into slot B and buckle or lace."

"Shut up." Kerrigan balanced the sword on his leg while he struggled with the armor.

While he worked the first one, Blaise pulled the red tunic from the bed where Seren had placed it. "Ooo, look," he said in a playful tone. "It's really soft. Red, what a different look for you, oh dark one who always wears black."

Kerrigan paused to frown at him. The mandrake was acting most peculiar. "What has gotten into you?"

There was an amused gleam in Blaise's violet eyes. "If you're so low on power that you're not even using it to dress, then I know you won't take a shot at me or choke me. I may never get another chance to taunt you again without risking bodily injury. Therefore, this has become a moral imperative."

He narrowed his gaze on the mandrake. "I really hate you."

"I know." Blaise put his arms into the tunic. "Now watch me closely. Here's how you dress. You put your arms in like this, pull it over your head, and settle it onto your body."

Kerrigan glared at the fool. He didn't know why, but the thought of Blaise wearing the tunic Seren had made for him moved him toward violence. "Take that off. Now."

"I don't know. I kind of like it." He batted his eyelashes at Kerrigan. "Does the color look good on me?"

"It looks like shit. Now take it off."

Blaise tsked at him.

Kerrigan picked the sword up from his knee. "You know why armies wear that color red, don't you?"

"Never knew they did."

"They do, and there's a reason for it."

"And that is?"

"It hides bloodstains." Kerrigan let fly his dagger as he spoke.

The dagger flew straight to its target…Blaise's shoulder. But instead of penetrating the fabric and wounding him as Kerrigan had intended, it stayed in place, vibrating back and forth.

Both men gaped as Blaise reached out to touch the wobbling dagger.

Kerrigan couldn't breathe. It couldn't be.

"What the hell…?" With his sword in hand, he crossed the room to pull the dagger from Blaise's shoulder. He stared at the dagger, half expecting a trick, but the dagger didn't appear damaged.

How odd…

"I knew it," Blaise said under his breath.

"Knew what?"

"Your little mouse is a Merlin."

He shook his head in denial. It wasn't possible. Originally bred from the Adoni, Merlins were always ethereally beautiful. They were powerful. Seren's beauty was inside, no doubt, but she didn't have the physical perfection of their breed. Never mind their magic.

Blaise nodded slowly. "Aye, Kerrigan. Think about it. What is able to weave a cloth so strong that no mere mortal weapon can penetrate it?"

"The Loom of Caswallan." It was one of the thirteen sacred objects that had been given to Arthur when he'd been king of Britain. Each one enchanted, those objects had given the ancient king the power he needed to rule his people and bring peace to his kingdom.

After Arthur's fall, the Penmerlin had returned the objects to the Waremerlins, who watched over them and sent them out into the world to hide them from Morgen. Since that fateful day, Morgen and their court had been trying to find the missing objects and return them to Camelot.

His sword had been one of those objects. It was why Morgen had tolerated him to live. She needed his bloodline to have full control of it.

Now another Merlin had been found, along with the object that her bloodline commanded. No wonder the prophecy had said Seren's child would be the next Penmerlin. Seren herself held those powers.

"Do you think Morgen knows?" he asked Blaise.

"I don't know. But the bigger question is, if Morgen does know, does she know where the loom is? That combined with your sword, her table, and one more object and Merlin would give her enough juice to raise Mordred back from his nearly dead state."

Letting out a deep breath, Kerrigan was beginning to understand some of Seren's fears about one person ruling the entire earth. If that person wasn't you, and if they were particularly angry at you, it was bad indeed.

Morgen would kill them all before this was over.

Unwilling to think about that, he growled before he stabbed the dagger into Blaise's stomach with all his strength.

"Pardon?" Blaise said when the dagger did nothing more than become lodged in the weave of the scarlet cloth. "What was that about?"

"I was just making sure the cloth was impervious."

"Well, the next time you wish to test it, I suggest we put it on you first and then I wield the dagger."

Kerrigan gave him a dry stare. "Give it over now."

Grumbling, Blaise complied as he whisked the tunic off.

"So what brought you here?" Kerrigan asked as he took his tunic back.

"We have a gargoyle at the gate."

Kerrigan rolled his eyes at the absurd comment. "A gargoyle? You disturbed me for this? God's blood, have you been by the window lately? I think you need to go count again."

He jerked at the next buckle in his armor as he mumbled under his breath. "Interrupt me for something so incredibly absurd. A gargoyle at the gate. There's an entire army of them flying over our heads, and he's just now noticed. Where have you been anyway that you've missed all the action up until now?"

"I was trying to rest, if you must know. But that has nothing to do with the little summoning you missed." Blaise made an irritated noise in the back of his throat. "I said a gargoyle is at the gate, not eight hundred."

Kerrigan paused. "What do you mean?"

"Garafyn is outside, wanting a parley."

He straightened as those words went over him like a cold shower. "Garafyn? Morgen sent Garafyn to talk to me? Does he even have a tongue?"

"Apparently so. But I'm with you. Who knew? I thought he was mute. Turns out he's a really crusty bastard who wants you to come out and chat with him for a bit."

"Why?"

Blaise shrugged. "I'm just the servant. He wouldn't talk to me, which is why I've come to fetch you. But since it is the gargoyle king wanting an audience, I thought it might be important."

Kerrigan was still baffled. Garafyn had been one of the original knights of the Round Table. Cursed into his gargoyle state by Morgen, he wasn't exactly friendly to anyone except his fellow cursed beings.

He couldn't imagine what Garafyn wanted with him. The gargoyle never interacted with anyone he didn't have to.

Wasting power he knew he shouldn't, Kerrigan flashed himself back into his armor, including the red tunic.

"Hey!" Blaise snapped. "Give us the shirt, mate. I might need it since I don't have a magical sword to protect me."

Kerrigan gave him a droll stare. "The tunic wouldn't help you anyway in dragon form. You'd tear it the instant you shifted and then I would be obligated to kill you for it."

Blaise considered that for a minute before he nodded. "Good point. You keep it."

Shaking his head at the incorrigible beast, Kerrigan walked past Blaise, through the castle, then out to the bailey.

He saw Garafyn standing off to the side of the shield with his hands on his hips, looking greatly peeved. Then again, most gargoyles looked that way even when they were happy. Not that they were happy often. The bad part about being cursed was that very few things happened that were good or fun.

Garafyn stood at an even six feet. His face was contorted, with large, overgrown fangs that had to make talking painful. More than any of the others, he was hideously formed. It was as if Morgen had taken special care to mutilate the man's appearance. Even Garafyn's wings were strangely shaped. They were sharp like a bat's, with spikes protruding from each bend.

His eyes were a deep bloodred that seemed to glow, and he watched Kerrigan carefully as he approached.

Once he stood before the gargoyle, Kerrigan arched a taunting brow. "Well?"

Garafyn spoke in a low, bored tone that was filled with mockery. "I am here at the behest of the queen of Camelot. I—"

Kerrigan frowned. "What?"

Garafyn let out an exasperated breath. "You know, the bitch on the throne? The one who thinks she's the greater evil, which ironically is true since no one else is a bigger bitch, but that's beside the point. She wanted me to talk to you so here I am roasting in the sun and praying that one of those damned dragons doesn't lob a glob of shit on my shoulder. God knows I get enough of that from the pigeons."

Blaise had been right, Garafyn was a crusty bastard, and he bore an accent that was reminiscent of some New York cabdriver. But Kerrigan wasn't in the mood for it. "There's nothing either of you could possibly say that I would ever care to hear."

Garafyn cleared his throat before he made an odd clicking noise with his mouth. "Fine. But tomorrow when they strip that sword from you and drag your carcass off in chains, club the woman in the head and slice her open in a few months' time, remember that the gargoyle schmuck tried to talk to you, but you had better things to do like go plan a funeral. G'head. Have a nice death." He turned to leave.

Kerrigan curled his lip. "Garafyn?"

The gargoyle paused to look back.

"What say you?"

Garafyn glanced to the army that was waiting at the bottom of the hill before he met Kerrigan's gaze with a glint in his red eyes. "You ready to parley?"

"Depends on what you have to say."

Garafyn moved back to the shield. He wiped his hand over his chin before he grimaced at the sight of his own stony skin. It was obvious he hated being a gargoyle.

"Look, we both know that I hate you and I hate the bitch below. But I've been thinking. You've no way out of this whole debacle. You can't feed with the shield up and you're too weak to safely transport the three of you out of here with your magic. And even if you do, there's not many places you can go that old bitch hound can't find you while the little peasant carries that baby."

Garafyn scratched his cheek as he continued his rant. "So where does that leave you? I'll tell you where that leaves you. Screwed. Completely, utterly, and with relish. But you know, screwing men has never been to my taste. So I'm thinking of something a little more to both our tastes."

"And that is?"

Garafyn let out another sound of disgust. "You know, she's not that stupid. Stop looking so damned agreeable. Throw your arms up over your head and act indignant."

Kerrigan frowned. "What?"

"Look pissed so the bitch thinks I'm here giving you her terms of surrender."

He grimaced at the gargoyle. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Do I look like I'm kidding?"

Nay, he looked quite serious. Kerrigan let out a disgusted breath of his own before he did as the gargoyle suggested.

Garafyn rolled his eyes. "Acting isn't your forte. Put your arms down."

Kerrigan snarled at him. "I don't like to play games."

"Trust me, this isn't a game. We screw this up and the bitch of the damned is going to turn me into a countertop."

"We don't have countertops yet."

"Yeah, look around, we're not supposed to have gargoyles and dragons, either, but they seem to be here, huh? Trust me, countertop is in my future, and with my luck, the bitch will use me to prepare some nasty-smelling shit on top of me. But I guess it's better than being stuck in the twentieth century as a damned lawn ornament for a dog to piss on."

"Would you stay on the topic? And what is your point anyway?"

"Fine," Garafyn growled. "The point is this. All of us down there around Morgen's camp know that you're about to fall. Come tomorrow, I can lead my Stone Legion up here and run the risk of your chiseling off a vital piece of my anatomy, or I and a couple of my friends can hold the angry horde back long enough for you to recharge your magic and get all of us out of here."

Kerrigan realized that Garafyn was staring at his star medallion. It was one of the symbols of a Merlin's power. A conductor, the medallion allowed a Merlin to use natural powers to boost his own. In the hands of a mundane being, it could be used to give him magic. Their amulets could allow creatures such as Garafyn to escape Camelot and live in peace.

Garafyn, like the rest of his Stone Legion, was a slave to Morgen…and to him. If Garafyn or any of his crew left Camelot, Morgen could pull them back without effort.

But with the amulet, that would change.

"Is that all you want?" Kerrigan asked him.

"No," he snapped in that thick, oddly New York accent. "I'd like to a be human again. And throw in some world peace, just because. But since that's never going to happen, I just want to be out of this hellhole and out from under the scrutiny of a woman whose head I'd like to crush." There was no missing the sincere hatred on Garafyn's face as he mentioned Morgen.

The gargoyle paused as if some painful memory tugged at him. "My consolation is that you weren't here in the glory days of Camelot. I have no real beef with you except for the fact that you've been known to blow a few of us into dust for no particular reason. That, I have to say, has pissed me off in the past, but then again, you did mostly blast the natural-born gargoyles more than my cursed legion."

He paused as he thought about that. "Then again, I've been known to do the same myself when they piss me off. So, believe it or not, I can live with your temper tantrums. What I can't live with is another day of watching the queen bitch dance around in her red dress to crap-ass music. I've had it with her and those mewling lips of hers. That face and her friggin' requests for me to go to the twenty-first century to bring her back some Starbucks. Have you any idea how hard it is to fetch a cup of Starbucks when you look like this ?" He scowled in distaste. "There's only so many people who will buy the lie that I'm making a Spielberg film, you know?"

And again the gargoyle had sidetracked himself onto another topic.

"How can I trust you?" Kerrigan asked, bringing him back to the current subject.

Garafyn shrugged. "Basically you can't. But I'm the best shot you got."

That wasn't true. He was the only shot Kerrigan had, and they both knew it. "All right. How do I know who to take with me? I assume you want only your men saved and not the other gargoyles."

"Yeah, I don't give two shits about the other gargoyles. As for my men…oh, we'll be obvious. We'll be the ones with our backs to you, fighting the others off."

That made sense. But Kerrigan knew that where they would have to go to escape Morgen wasn't exactly conducive to Garafyn's form. "Don't you care where I'm going to take you?"

"As long as it's out of Morgen's reach, no. If you can make it so I never see another of these pricks, hell, no."

Kerrigan looked down the hill at the others. He couldn't see Morgen, but he knew she was down there. He could feel it. "What are you going to tell her about our conversation?"

"That you're a dickhead who wouldn't listen to reason." He looked over his shoulder at a large tree. "I'll make sure they're all down there by the oak at ten tomorrow. None of them will be near you so that you'll have time to feed. You stay in the castle, bring down the shield, and feed on the girl. The mandrakes will have to take human form to enter the castle, and since they prefer to not fight that way, Morgen will send us in first. I'll come running in with my guard."

How strange that Garafyn would do that. He was taking one hell of a chance. "You trust me to not leave you behind?"

Garafyn sobered as he narrowed those eerie red eyes on him. "Three days ago, I wouldn't have trusted you with shit. But I've seen you with that woman. She trusts you, so I'm thinking maybe she knows something I don't."

Kerrigan snorted. "You're either brave or a complete idiot."

"I try to avoid being either of those since both will get you killed…and usually painfully. Now look pissed for the bitch."

Kerrigan made a face.

"Oh forget it. You need some acting lessons." He stepped back from the shield. "I'll go tell Morgen that you refused her offer."

"What was her offer anyway?"

"You know the spiel. Hand over the woman and your sword and she'd let you live. Blah, blah, blah."

Aye, that was the spiel all right. All these centuries later, and Morgen wasn't a bit more original. No wonder he was bored with her. "Tell her I refuse."

"Don't worry. Even if you hadn't, I'd say it just so that I could get the whole Linda Blair head-spinning routine going. It's the only time I find Morgen funny." Garafyn inclined his head to him. "See you tomorrow."

Kerrigan watched as the gargoyle made his way down the hill toward the others. It was incredible that such a beast would ally himself to him. But then the old saying went through his mind:My enemy's enemy is my friend .

He didn't know if he could really trust Garafyn and his guard or not. This could all be an elaborate plan to get him to lower his defenses.

Then again, if they were deceiving him, there was one flaw to their plan. One he doubted Morgen had thought about. There was only one person in the castle he could feed from.

Seren.

And she carried his child. If he bungled this, he would kill Seren and the baby, and Morgen would lose her best shot at raising Mordred from the dead. Neither proposition boded well for him.

But at least the latter wouldn't kill him. No matter what he might argue verbally, he was beginning to suspect the truth. Seren was starting to mean a lot more to him than just a nameless pawn to be used.

Now he just needed to teach his little mouse to roar.