Dragon Knight's Ring (Order of the Dragon Knights Book 5) Read Free

conversation, his steps quickened, and he hastily made it inside and up the stairs. Upon reaching his chambers, Adam entered and bolted the door behind him. Glancing around, he noticed that all was the same as he remembered the last day before he left for the Crusades with Father Belton.
    Dust and cobwebs hung near the windows, and the dampness of the room matched his mood within. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he tried to breathe evenly. What were ye thinking coming back here? The memories are rife of times with her. Ye should have fled north to the Isles. Upon those thoughts came another. Why was his room not clean? He had been gone for several years.
    Pounding the wall with his fist, Adam moved toward the window. Swiping at the wispy cobwebs, he cast his gaze out to the hills. Sunlight danced off the wet trees, yet dark clouds loomed nearby. He knew what lay beyond—the standing stones. A place where he would bury the past. Say one last good-bye and never return.
    The standing stones called out to him along with Meggie’s ghost.
    He leaned against the cold wall for support. “I cannae live in a place where your laughter surrounds me, or where your face is what I see in the soft grasses waving in a nearby meadow. Nae. I must leave ye here. I beg ye will forgive me, my bonny Meggie.”
    Hearing a soft rap on his door, Adam moved away from the wall and his misery. Upon opening the door, the steward, Drostan, entered carrying several tunics and trews. No sooner did he cross the threshold than a young woman brought in a pitcher and a number of mugs. She placed them on his table and quickly departed the room.
    The older man smiled warmly. “Your brothers will be pleased to ken ye have returned home. I shall fetch someone to clean and light a fire in your chamber.” Placing the clothing on the bed, he gave Adam a slight nod. “Anice has heard of your presence and is preparing your favorite foods. Ye should see all the bustling about in the kitchens. The tub off the kitchens is being filled for your bath.”
    Adam grimaced. “I thank ye for bringing me fresh clothing, but ye did not have to do so. My brothers may rejoice in my return, but I shall not be staying long.”
    Drostan frowned in confusion. “They have been distraught over your absence. Many moons have we all seen their anguish. They searched the Highlands for some time looking for ye.”
    “Humph!” Moving to the table, Adam filled his mug. “How is the laird these days?”
    “Ye have not heard the news?” asked a stunned Drostan.
    “What? Did he finally marry?” Intent on quenching his thirst, he barely heard Drostan’s next response.
    “Your brother, Michael, is dead.”
    Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Adam stumbled to the chair by the hearth. Drostan fetched the pitcher and refilled the mug Adam still held.
    “When?”
    “Och, twelve moons.”
    “Sweet Mother Mary,” he rasped out. He may have disliked his older brother—his laird, but he was his kin. Blood of the same blood, and the blow of this knowledge left an ache within his heart. Adam glanced up at the steward. “How?”
    Drostan’s lips thinned, and he moved to the table, setting the pitcher down. “Ye should speak with your brothers when they return. They will be here on the morrow.”
    Adam stood slowly. “But I am asking ye.”
    “There is much ye dinnae understand. ’Tis not my place to tell ye. Your brothers will tell ye all.”
    “Ye cannae expect me to hear such news and not give me an account of my brother’s death. If ye choose not to tell me, I shall find another to recount the details.” Adam glared at the man, trying to keep his fury in check.
    “By the hand of Alastair MacKay.”
    Adam flung his mug across the room. “Is the MacKay dead, as well? Did my brothers avenge his death?”
    “He lives, but Michael’s death was justified.”
    “Justified?” roared Adam. “By all that’s holy, what in the hell do ye mean? The MacKays should all be dead!