Page 62 of Dark Rival

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HE LANDED SO HARD his head exploded and he welcomed the pain.

Royce lay still, seeing stars. He did not move or even think to fight the pain, until the wracking waves of torment and anguish had entirely receded. He was on his back, staring up through a canopy of pine so thick that he could barely see the sky. When he was breathing normally, when it felt like his body might have some strength and he might be able to sit up and even stand, he focused.

Kael.

Eight hundred years had so honed his senses that he could scent his enemy just below him. The glen reeked of evil and lust. He focused even more intently, and felt Brigdhe’s pain. Then he recognized her utter hopelessness.

She did not believe he was coming.

He stood, his heart beating slowly, with the utmost calm. He was a hardened warrior now. There was no fear, just a sense of what he must do to triumph over a mortal enemy. However, as much as he wished to do battle now, this was not his fight to fight. It was Ruari’s.

Very slowly, intent, he walked through the wood, down the ridge. And he thought about two women, not one. For Ailios’s image had crept into his mind, as crystal clear as Brigdhe’s was not. Let her love him—it changed nothing.

When he reached the tree line he paused, staring down at the timbered palisade and manor, knowing what his younger self, Ruari, would find when he broke down those wood gates and fought his way into the hall. His gut roiled. He fought it.

He must not ever forget what had happened to her, even if the Healer wished for him to do so—even if her smiles and happiness tempted him to do so.

Brigdhe’s pain and defeat wafted from the glen, sickening him, as he had hoped it would. He tried to recall her beauty and failed. He could not quite attach a clear image to her energy. Time had blurred her features, making the real woman impossible to envision.

He recalled her bruised, battered body, though. Time had not faded that image, not at all, and that was good.

And although he was a rational man, although he was a centuries-old Master, the urge to rush down the hill and break down the gates to destroy Kael was overwhelming. He stared at the palisade and somehow restrained himself. Although he knew the horrors Brigdhe was suffering, he must not break the Code. It was forbidden for him to change the past—or the future. Ruari must rescue her, vanquish Kael and bless her union to another man—and lose the last of his naiveté and hope.

The Code was also very clear that he must not encounter himself in a past or future time, either. He did not intend to do so. He had come back to remember, and already he was recalling the events of this day with terrible clarity.

Royce glanced around and saw his younger self emerging from the wood farther along the ridge. Stunned, he realized he hadn’t timed his leap with enough care—he had been so furious. He stared with great interest and realized this was an even better way to relive the horrid day.

The boy strode down the hill, soaking wet with sweat, his leine clinging to his lithe, muscular body, his face a mask of determined rage. Royce simply watched, refusing to feel for him.

Tell me what you want.

Soft laughter, her warm body, and a slow, sweet entry. You know what I want, Ruari.

Male laughter, an exchange of kisses as he moved deeper and deeper still, the first ones gentle and playful, the last one deep and urgent. Can ye come fer me now, Brigdhe?

Oh, aye! Aye!

Her soft, female cries filled their bedchamber, and he allowed himself to join her. She was a passionate woman and this pleased him; he had chosen well. And perhaps they had conceived a son—he wanted a son. And she snuggled in his arms…

Royce couldn’t breathe. Where had that terrible memory come from? He wasn’t that boy anymore—he would never be that boy again. He didn’t want to remember! There would never be any sons!

Ruari was at the gates. He reached for them.

Royce trembled, wanting to see him savagely wrest the doors from their hinges.

He breathed hard.

Ruari tore the gates from their hinges.

As he did, Royce knew that the bombard of arrows would begin. He knew one arrow would pierce his skin, another a tendon. Ruari did not know, but it would not stop him, anyway….

Royce gave in. As Ruari threw the doors aside, as the arrows hailed, he blasted the archers with his energy to deflect every iron-tipped shaft. The arrows rained down on Ruari, and one pierced his arm. Oblivious, he jerked it out and kept going into the palisade, sword drawn, as the giants swarmed him.

Stunned, Royce looked at his hand. He’d sent a huge blast of energy at the archers and nothing had happened.

And in that instant, he suddenly understood the rule to never encounter oneself in the past or the future.