Beneath a Midnight Moon

Kylene woke to the sounds of battle-men yelling, the harsh echo of wood striking wood as a battering ram crashed into one of the castle's huge wooden portals.

She sat up, her glance sweeping the room. Hardane stood at the window, gazing out. Wearing a suit of light armor, he was buckling on his sword.

She whispered his name, her voice betraying the fear that was rising within her.

Wordlessly, he turned away from the window and crossed the floor. Gathering her into his arms, he buried his face in the wealth of her hair, his nostrils filling with her scent. He tightened his hold around her waist, clinging to her as if he knew it was for the last time.

"He's here, isn't he?" Kylene whispered tremulously.

Hardane nodded. So much to tell her, he thought, so much to say, and no time to do it. He could only hope she knew how much he had cherished their time together, how much he cherished her.

A knock at the door told him it was time to go. Reluctantly, he drew away.

"Remember what I told you," he said, his gaze intent upon her face. "Stay here. If Renick's men breach the walls, you're to leave the castle immediately. Kruck will take you and my mother away from Argone."

Kylene stared up at him, a terrible fear engulfing her. "Hold me," she begged. "Please hold me. I'm so afraid."

He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her tight against him. How well they fit together, he mused. His hardness complemented her soft curves; her body molded to his as if she'd been created with him in mind.

"I love you," he murmured. "Never forget that."

"I love you," she replied fervently. "I loved you when you were only a dream." Her fingertips traced the line of his mouth. "Be careful, promise me you'll be careful."

Hardane nodded, flinching as another knock came at the door.

"I've got to go, lady." He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her softly, sweetly, one last time. "Take care of yourself, beloved. If I never see our sons . . ."

Kylene covered his mouth with her hand, stilling his words. "Don't! It's bad luck to speak of death! You'll come back to me. I know you will."

Hardane nodded, his heart heavy as he saw the tears welling in her eyes. His own throat was thick with emotion. "Kylene . . ."

"Hardane! We need you outside."

Jared's voice called to him, reminding him that the people of Argone were depending on him.

"I've got to go," Hardane said.

He brushed his knuckles over her cheek, then kissed her one last time, quickly, fervently.

"Pray for me, lady," he murmured, and turning on his heel, he left the chamber.

Pray for me. His words seemed to hang in the air. Immediately, she dropped to her knees beside their bed and began to plead with the God of Argone to watch over her husband, to protect him in battle, to return him to her safe and unharmed.

Hardane followed Jared out of the keep. The courtyard was swarming with men, mostly farmers, whose fear was evident on their faces as they ran for cover from the arrows and rocks that were raining into the courtyard.

The castle walls were manned by Hardane's fighting men. Climbing onto one of the parapets, Hardane stared down at the enemy. Hundreds of armored men swarmed around the castle walls. Some were firing arrows. Others lobbed rocks from a catapult. Others were obviously seeking for a way into the castle.

Agonized screams slashed through the air as some of Hardane's men poured a cauldron of boiling oil onto a group of Renick's men who were battering the main portal.

The fighting went on for hours, but Hardane's men managed to keep the armies of Mouldour and Corianton at bay.

The sun climbed in the sky, and still the fighting went on, with neither side gaining an advantage until Renick's men began shooting fire arrows over the wall, igniting several bales of straw, as well as one of the outbuildings that was being used to house some of the women and children from the village.

In minutes, the courtyard was filled with confusion as women and children ran out of the burning building screaming in panic.

"Jared, get those fires out!" Hardane hollered.

Shouting his acknowledgment, Jared rounded up a dozen men and put them to the task.

Swearing softly, Hardane went to check on conditions at the rear of the castle.

From a distance, Renick watched the battle, not caring that his losses were heavy. He must seize the lady Kylene. Only when she was dead, only when it was certain that she would never bear Hardane's sons, would the throne of Mouldour be secure.

And once he had Kylene, he would have Hardane as well. He would execute them both once he had them safely aboard his ship, thereby forever putting an end to the prophesy. It would be his children, his and Selene's, that ruled Argone and Mouldour.

Renick nodded with satisfaction. Even now, four of his most trusted men were making their way through the tunnel that led to Hardane's chamber. Soon, he thought, Kylene would be in his custody. And when he had the woman, the man would follow.

In the meantime, his men had been ordered to take as many lives as they could, but to inflict as little damage as possible to Castle Argone, which would, after all, soon be his.

Kylene sat at the window, her hands fisted in her lap as she watched the activity on the castle walls and in the courtyard below. Occasionally, she caught a glimpse of Hardane. Even in a crowd, she had no trouble picking him out. Taller than most of his men, he moved with a purpose and assurance that set him apart from the others. The fighting had been going on for hours, but so far Renick's men had been unable to breach the walls.

Sharilyn had spent the morning at her side, but now, with the coming of dusk, she had gone downstairs to make sure that food was being prepared for the men.

How much longer, Kylene wondered, how much longer could Hardane's men repel Renick's army? Hadj had come to her every hour, bringing news of the battle. Losses on their side had been few, though many had been wounded. Several small buildings within the bailey had been burned to the ground. A child had been trampled to death when a frightened horse jumped a corral fence. Three women had suffered severe burns in the fire; a fourth had died. Renick's losses were high.

With a sigh, Kylene buried her face in her hands. When would it end?

Thinking it was Sharilyn returning, she didn't look up when she heard footsteps coming up behind her.

A scream was trapped in her throat as someone dropped a sack over her head. Rough hands pulled her to her feet, and then she was being dragged across the floor.

She cried Hardane's name, her nails digging into the arms of the man who held her. She heard him curse, and then he hit her hard, his fist striking her on the side of the head. Bright lights danced before her eyes, and a sudden nausea rose in her throat.

Abruptly, the floor beneath her feet changed texture and she knew they were in the tunnel that led from Hardane's bedchamber to the sea.

She began to struggle again, fear and desperation adding strength to her limbs. She lashed out with her feet and her fists, sobs racking her body. She had to get away. Her life, the lives of her children, depended on it.

She felt her fist strike flesh, and then a blinding pain exploded in her head and she felt herself falling, falling, into darkness blacker than the night. . . .

Hardane braced one hand against the wall of the keep, his forehead pressed to the cold stone. With the coming of night, Renick's men had retreated. The glow of their campfires could be seen against the night sky.

With a sigh, he pushed away from the wall. The fighting was over for now, and he had only one thing on his mind, to see Kylene, to wrap himself in her arms and forget, at least for a little while, that the battle wasn't over.

He'd just stepped into the Great Hall when his mother came running toward him.

"She's gone!" Sharilyn cried. "Kylene's gone!"

"Gone? Where?"

"I don't know. I left her for a few minutes to make sure Nan had everything under control in the kitchen, and when I got back, she was gone. I've looked everywhere."

Hardane frowned. Why would she leave? Where would she go? She'd promised to stay in his room until he came for her.

He took the stairs two at a time, his weariness forgotten in his concern for Kylene. He paused inside the door to their room, his gaze sweeping the chamber, and then, after taking several deep breaths, he closed his eyes and sent his tashada to find her.

Kylene, where are you?

The answer, when it came, was exactly what he'd feared.

Renick! She was on his ship, locked in a small cabin, her hands tied tightly behind her back. The left side of her face was swollen, her cheek badly bruised. He felt her pain and her fear, felt the nausea that churned in her stomach as the ship rocked at anchor in a small inlet west of the waterfall.

He fought down the rage that boiled up inside him, forcing his mind to be calm as he willed his thoughts to her.

I'm coming, lady. Don't be afraid.

No! Her cry screamed in the back of his mind. It's you he wants. Please, Hardane, if you love me, stay away.

Lady, you know I love you. I'll see you soon.

No. She sobbed the word. No, please. He'll kill you.

He'll try. In his mind, Hardane reached out to caress her, his shade surrounding her, enfolding her, infusing her with his strength. We'll be together soon, he promised, and regretfully withdrew his presence.

Sharilyn touched her son's shoulder. "Hardane?"

"Renick has her. I've got to go."

"You know that's what he wants."

"I know. I-"

He broke off as Jared burst into the room.

"This just came for you," Jared said, handing Hardane a message written in Renick's bold scrawl.

Hardane read the missive, then handed it to his mother.

"He wants you to come to his ship," Sharilyn said, reading quickly. "Tonight, alone and unarmed."

Hardane nodded.

"You're not going?"

Hardane met his mother's worried gaze. "What other choice do I have?"

"You know he won't let her go."

"I know."

"By Minock's beard," Jared exclaimed, "the man wants you both dead!"

"You think I don't know that?"

Sharilyn laid a comforting hand on her son's arm. "Have you a plan?"

"I plan to kill him. That's the only plan I have."

Jared and Sharilyn exchanged glances. Before they could speak, Carrick stepped into the room. "Renick's men are withdrawing."

"What?"

"They're marching toward the sea."

"All of them?"

"As far as I can tell." Carrick crossed the room and put his arm around Sharilyn's shoulders. "What do you think it means?"

"It means he has what he came for," Hardane replied curtly.

"He has Kylene," Sharilyn explained. "He sent a message demanding Hardane's presence at his ship tonight, alone."

"I see." Carrick dragged a hand across his jaw as he studied Hardane's face. The man looked as though he'd been to Gehenna and back and was being asked to go again. "What are you going to do?"

Hardane stared at Carrick, his expression bleak. "What do you think?"

Carrick nodded. "It's suicide to go alone."

"He's threatened to kill her if he sees anyone else," Hardane said, his voice ragged.

"He'll kill her anyway."

"I know that!" Hardane drove his fist into the wall, hardly feeling the pain that splintered through his knuckles. "Don't you think I know that? But what else can I do?"

"I have an idea," Carrick said slowly. "It might work. It might not . . ." He shrugged. "What have you got to lose?"