Dragon Knight's Ring

By Mary Morgan

Crusader, Adam MacFhearguis is on one last quest to the standing stones in Scotland where he seeks to bury the past. However, a silent prayer sends him to an unknown future and to his beloved Meggie. When he uncovers a shocking revelation, Adam questions everything about the woman he thought he knew and loved. He may have traveled the veil of ages, but time is now his enemy. Margaret MacKay lives a life in the future without the memories of her past—her death. When Adam arrives at her door confessing he knows her, she is confused and wary. With each passing day, she yearns to learn more from this stranger. Yet, when a truth is revealed, can she trust the man to unlock the chains from her mind and heart? Will love free the bonds to unite the two lovers who were doomed centuries ago? Or will evil finally claim victory over the Dragon Knights?

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
• Release date: Aug 12, 2016
• ISBN: 9781509209835

Mary Morgan

Award-winning Celtic paranormal and fantasy romance author, Mary Morgan, resides in Northern California, with her own knight in shining armor. However, during her travels to Scotland, England, and Ireland, she left a part of her soul in one of these countries and vows to return. Mary's passion for books started at an early age along with an overactive imagination. Inspired by her love for history and ancient Celtic and Norse mythology, her tales are filled with powerful warriors, brave women, magic, and romance. Now, the worlds she created in her mind are coming to life within her stories. If you enjoy history, tortured heroes, and a wee bit of fantasy, then time-travel within the pages of her books. Visit Mary's website where you'll find links to all of her books, blog, and pictures of her travels. http://www.marymorganauthor.com

Book preview

story.

Prologue

They were an ancient order, descended from the great Tuatha dé Danann, the Sidhe, or in simpler terms—the Fae. Half-human and half-fae, each blessed with mystical powers. Given to them by the Fae were holy relics and guardianship over their Dragons.

They were known as the Dragon Knights.

With the dawn of Christianity, the Dragons were systematically hunted down and slain, leaving only one. She was taken from Ireland to a land across the sea, settling in the Great Glen near Urquhart with the MacKay clan, descendents from the MacAoidh.

Yet, there were those who believed the Order had too much power, and they tried to possess it for themselves. They were evil and twisted, and their plan succeeded one fateful night.

The brothers of the Clan MacKay—Dragon Knights, fought a battle. When the sister of the MacKays was killed, blood spilled onto holy ground, bringing forth the wrath of the Fae. The Knights’ relics were taken, and the Order was banished—each man’s name stricken from the hallowed halls of the Fae.

However, not all was lost, for the Fae loved these men.

Therefore, a quest for redemption was given to each. Duncan, Stephen, Alastair, and Angus MacKay have fulfilled their missions. The Dragon Knights are once again together, and the Order has been born anew.

But there is another Dragon Knight—one who felt the loss of Margaret MacKay’s death to his very soul, leaving him cleaved in two.

Adam MacFhearguis wanders the land as a crusader, a ghost of his former self. Grief is his constant companion. He has witnessed atrocities in other countries as a knight in the Crusades, yet, the horror of witnessing his beloved being slain torments his mind and body far more.

He has sworn an allegiance to the new religion. However, he makes a vow never to claim the peace the one God teaches. His penance for Meggie’s death.

As Adam’s steps lead him home to Scotland, he seeks to close the door on the past by making a pilgrimage to the standing stones—the very place that destroyed his life and took Margaret’s.

Unbeknown to Adam, this quest will alter everything he believes. For in his search for redemption, he must face the future and take up the sword as the new Dragon Knight.

Chapter One

The Standing Stones in Urquhart Glen—Samhain 1204

Adam held her trembling body against his chest, listening to her painful pleas.

Ye must flee this place. They are coming, Meggie protested.

How do ye ken? He waved his hand about. ’Tis only a fierce storm that is coming.

She shook her lovely head. "Nae, nae…I can feel my brothers’ powers."

Kissing her forehead, he gazed into eyes that held fear. The MacKays were intent on destroying their happiness. I willnae let ye suffer the wrath of your brothers. Adam brought her cold hands to his lips. This was to be our wedding eve, and so it shall be.

She shook her head. Nae. They are too close—

"Shh…leannan. He moved her toward one of the standing stones. We are in a place of beauty and magic. The light of the Fae surrounds the glen. Naught will happen to us. I shall protect ye. I love ye, Meggie."

And I love ye, too, Adam, but—

Adam silenced her words with a soul-searing kiss. He would not be swayed to believe her brothers were on their way. Aye, the storm built around them, but he deemed it to be one of simply nature to herald the feast of Samhain.

When he opened his eyes, she smiled fully at him. Must ye always stop my words with a kiss?

Forever—

Ye die, MacFhearguis! Duncan MacKay roared the words, as he stepped into the glen. He waved his sword high and brought his special power of lightning far too near to where he and Meggie stood.

Instantly, Adam shoved Meggie behind him. Reluctantly unsheathing his sword, he shouted, Will ye not listen, Duncan?

Nae! Meggie’s brother thrust his sword outward, but Adam blocked the blow. Yet, the man swiftly turned and slammed a fist to his jaw. Ye were warned, MacFhearguis, he spat out.

Duncan, I beg ye to cease! demanded Meggie.

The ground rumbled under Adam’s feet. Glancing to his right, he saw Alastair MacKay stride forward. Never had he feared these men, but the rage on their faces was one he had never witnessed. He had to get Meggie away from them.

Duncan pointed his sword to Alastair in warning. He is mine!

Why? asked Alastair, raising his axe high above his head. Do ye think to claim the head of a MacFhearguis without me?

As the two MacKay brothers argued, a third brother, Stephen, approached and dismounted from his horse. Adam slowly stepped back, reaching for Meggie’s hand.

Stay back, Alastair! shouted Duncan.

When Duncan in his black rage slashed his blade through Alastair’s arm, Meggie screamed and pulled herself free from Adam’s grasp. The deafening roar of the wind drowned out the injured MacKay’s cries, while Adam tried in vain to hold Meggie back. Lightning flashed overhead, and he struggled to see. Blinking several times, his sight finally cleared.

Adam watched in horror as Duncan’s sword pierced Meggie’s flesh. His heart shattered like a thousand shards of glass, before he realized the pain was not just from his aching soul, but that the MacKay’s blade had also found a home in his flesh as well.

Meggie’s screams filled his head and mingled with his own cries when Duncan pulled the sword free. Time slowed as they both fell to the ground, his head smacking against a boulder. The shouts of the MacKays echoed in the glen as Adam desperately fought the wave of blackness descending over him.

As he drifted into the dark abyss, Adam’s last thoughts were of Meggie. He prayed fate would let them be re-united in the Land of Forever.

Forgive me, Meggie. I will forever love ye, lass, he whispered and slipped into what surely would be death’s waiting embrace.

****

The Great Glen in Scotland—September 1207

The howling wind and icy rain slashed at Adam MacFhearguis’s face, while his cloak flapped furiously around his body. The elements of the Highlands welcomed him. Yet, he remained frozen, unmoving as he stared across the heather drenched hills, his gaze focused on the one looming structure—Castle Leomhann. Dark and brooding in the gray light of day, the ghosts of the past now beckoned him to return home. He could hear their whispers through the mists, luring him to another time. A time when he had known happiness.

However, he could not venture forward in joy. This was not a triumphant return. Nae, it was closure on the dead and forgotten. There would be no more laughter, shouts of jubilation, or arms to wrap him in love. The mere thought of her—Margaret—sent a chill of pain slashing at his heart, and Adam clutched the cross that hung around his neck. Was she in the place they called Heaven? Or did her soul slip into the abyss of Tir na Og? He tossed the latter thought to the winds, for he no longer believed in the heathen ways.

The old ways, however, haunted him at times, and he prayed she would forgive him for embracing the new religion. Margaret was of the old ways—gifted with the powers of healing and speaking with the animals. When they first met, he swore lights danced before his eyes at the vision of her on that warm spring day. As he tried to tame a wild horse gone astray, she walked right up to the beast and softly sang a tune. Birds flitted about, a lone deer ambled forth from the trees, and the stallion nudged her arm and rested its head against her shoulder.

Och, ye fine animal. Are ye giving the lad a difficult time?

Adam swallowed the curse he wanted to fling out at her. I am not a lad.

She glanced over her shoulder at him. Aye, a brawn lad to be sure, but a man ye are not.

And what would a lass so young ken the difference between a lad and a man?

Her face turned the color of roses, and Adam regretted the teasing barb. Turning to face him, she smiled beguilingly, and his heart slammed inside his chest. Well, I do have four older brothers, and they have many male friends.

He arched a brow and moved closer to her. Seeing her eyes grow wide and her blush deepen, he lifted his hand and heard her indrawn breath when he removed a leaf from her hair. Ahh…pray tell me the difference.

Those beautiful lavender eyes, the color of heather on a gray day, narrowed at his playful jest. Jabbing a finger into his chest, she pushed him backward. The difference is, a lad would dare to ask the question, and a man would show me.

She quickly stepped aside, and Adam grasped her hand. Has another shown ye?

And yet again, the lad asks a question. Her laughter rang out across the meadow.

Bringing her palm to his lips, he placed a feather-light kiss within, inhaling her scent—a mix of sweet flowers on a warm summer day. Releasing her hand, he walked on shaky limbs to the horse.

Where are ye taking him? she asked softly.

Adam kept on moving, praying the lass would follow. To the loch.

I think I shall join ye. He is still restless and may require a calm voice.

Smiling fully, Adam only nodded.

And in that quiet moment, Adam knew there would be no other. Not only had Margaret MacKay enchanted the horse, she had also stolen his heart in the process.

Why did ye let her die? His anguished demand uttered out to the heavens. Ye took the best of me!

Thunder rolled in the distance, and Adam raised a fist at the God of the storms. Ye are no longer my God. I spit on ye! When lightning grazed a nearby tree, Adam spread his arms out wide. I am right here. Take aim anywhere.

The ground rumbled beneath him, but he kept his stance steady. I dinnae fear ye! Do ye hear me? I have forsaken ye all! he shouted.

When hail pelted him, he closed his eyes but lifted his face to the pounding ordeal. "Ye cannae harm me, for I live daily with the agony of her loss. Even death will not bring me peace."

Within moments, the rain ceased, and the winds subsided to a gentle breeze. Adam wiped the water from his face, opened his eyes, and glanced to his right, seeing the shimmering rainbow over the place of that horrific night—the standing stones. The sacred space where Meggie and he sought to pledge their troth. It was to be a day of new beginnings.

Yet, shared dreams of a happy life, far away from his brothers and hers, turned into a nightmarish scene, where in the end, he watched her die as the darkness claimed him from his own injuries. The last words on his lips were of love, and he prayed she heard his pledge.

In truth, Adam’s real nightmare began when he woke the next morn. Gone were her brothers. Gone was the woman he treasured more than life itself. The guttural cry that broke free from him shook the forest—birds flew off and animals darted away. His grief so raw, he wanted to end his life there among the stones.

His life was naught, if she was no longer in this world.

As he groped about for his blade, his fingers brushed over the small swatch of tapestry she had stitched for them. She had wanted to drape it around their joined hands as a sign of unity—the MacFhearguis and MacKay. A united clan. Adam had clutched the material to his chest, tears streaming down his face.

Nae, he would not take his life today. He would let fate decide.

In the months that followed, he found solace in the words of a traveling priest. He spoke of the one true belief—the one God of love and forgiveness. In their time together, he asked many questions. Could the one God forgive him for failing Margaret? He told the priest he deemed himself unworthy to accept Christ’s loving embrace. Adam believed he had to earn this new belief. When questioned, the priest told him about the Crusades. A battle of old and new fought in a foreign land. A chance to purge the old pagan ways with what the servant of this new God called Christianity.

And on one glorious spring day in 1205, Adam silently left his home, Castle Leomhann, to travel as a Crusader. His hope was to wipe away the stain of Margaret’s death with a penance of poverty and prayer. He would journey in the name of this Christ and seek forgiveness.

However, the Crusades brought their own hideous nightmare—one of greed and corruption, and it sickened him.

Shaking his head to rid himself of the past, Adam blinked, casting his sight once again on the rainbow.

Ye always understood in the magic of these colors, my Meggie. His voice shook with emotion as he fought a familiar wave of despair.

Feeling the prod on his shoulder, Adam looked over his shoulder. Aye, Ciar, ye foul smelling beast. I ken ye have had your fill of my miserable mood. Ye should ken I would have felt the pain of her loss more keenly here.

His warhorse snickered softly and pawed the ground with its hoof.

Clutching his cross once again, Adam lifted his head to the rainbow. I pray there are many rainbows for ye to gaze upon in Heaven, Meggie.

With a heavy sigh, he mounted his horse and moved along toward Castle Leomhann.

Hours later, Adam passed over the bridge to his former home. Pausing briefly at the gates, he chose to remain silent and waited until one of the guards recognized him. This was not the return of the honored brother—only one who wished to make his peace and leave this place filled with ghosts, as quickly as possible. He did not favor a welcome of rousing cheers, so when the guard, Ross, came to the gate, Adam showed his clan colors. The old guard knew him well and waved him onward.

Adam’s mount ambled along slowly through the bailey, onward to the stables. As he dismounted, a young lad of no more than ten came rushing forward.

Are ye the MacFhearguis they are searching for? The lad’s eyes went wide as he gazed at Adam and back to his great warhorse.

Searching? Who would search for me? His response was almost a growl, and the boy took a few steps back.

’Tis your…br…brothers, stammered the boy.

Closing his eyes, Adam tempered the anger beginning to rise. It was always thus when he was around his kin. He was the youngest brother. His voice—his opinion never important enough for Michael, the oldest, to hear. His laird always deemed it best for him to remain silent. Aye, his other brothers, Alex and Patrick, may have listened to Adam, but there were times when they urged him not to argue with their laird.

And where might I find my brothers? Adam asked in a much calmer tone.

They have not returned, interjected Calum walking up alongside the young lad. He placed a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder. Why don’t ye take Adam’s horse into the stables, Donald.

Adam meant to object to the boy taking his horse, however, Calum gave him a stern look of warning before he could utter a retort. Be wary of his right side, for he cannae see well out of his eye.

Was he injured in battle? asked Donald as he gripped the reins.

Aye, one too many. He watched the young boy slowly lead Ciar away, all the while whistling a soft tune.

Dinnae fear. The lad has a way with the animals. It reminds me of another young boy from long ago. The man Adam had ken since childhood spoke again.

I am no longer that boy.

Calum shifted slightly. Nae. He died many moons ago. The old man sighed heavily and clasped Adam’s shoulder. ’Tis good to have ye back home. Now, go wash the muck from your travels and eat. I will look after Ciar. Ye both have the look of hell hounds after a battle. Giving Adam a small smile, he walked away.

Adam rubbed a hand over his weary face, stopping to scratch at a beard that sorely needed to come off. As he strode toward the entrance of the castle, many paused in their duties to give him a nod, smile, or salute. Grateful that none engaged him in 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! The very air they breathe is tainted by their infernal lives.

Drostan shook his head slowly. Again, there is much ye need to hear from your brothers. The MacKays were not to blame.

Fisting his hands on his hips, Adam looked at the steward as if he had lost his mind. Can ye not explain further?

Nae, I will not. Without giving Adam a chance to respond, Drostan left the chamber.

Is everyone mad? he shouted. He walked over and retrieved his mug off the floor. Reaching for the pitcher, he filled it to the brim and drank deeply. Adams’s hand shook, his rage so great. All the MacKays should rot in the fires of hell, he growled.

Taking the pitcher with him, he left his chambers and ascended the narrow passageway leading to the parapet. He had no desire to be around the others. He feared he would lash out with words or worse a blade.

Pushing open the massive oak door, he was greeted once again with an icy, brittle rain. And Adam embraced the sting of torment.

Chapter Two

If you hear the call of the raven, be wary of her song of war.

Screams filled his head as he blocked another blow from the enemy. They were without mercy as they swung their blades, hacking at anyone who dared to cross their path. Dust and smoke clouded his vision, while he searched for the other Templar Knights. He tried in vain, screaming out in Latin and French, so that they may ken help was near, but stifling heat made it difficult to breathe, and his words came out garbled. Adam shouted once again—this time in his own language, so his friends would ken it was him and not the enemy.

Yet, when he moved forward, slashing his way through the enemy, he stumbled upon the slaughtered bodies of the men he called friends. Heads severed from their shoulders and clothing shredded from their corpses. The blood pooled around them in a grisly river of red. Nae! he roared, clutching his head and stumbling away. The stench of death filled him. His stomach lurched, and he emptied what little he had in it against the wall.

Groaning, Adam opened his eyes and blinked in confusion—pushing aside the remnants of the nightmare from his mind. His last thoughts were of sitting on the cold stone at the parapet and drinking far too much on an empty belly. Clutching at the furs, he attempted to sit. Sweet Jesus, he muttered. The room spun, and he clenched his eyes shut. He could not recall how he managed to make it back to his room last evening. Taking deep calming breaths, he slowly opened his eyes once more.

Welcome home, Adam, greeted Patrick, sitting across from him.

Adam stared at his brother for a few moments and then made to stand. Patrick was there in two strides to help steady him. He waited until the dizziness passed and then shrugged out of his brother’s embrace. Stumbling toward the table, he braced his arms on the rough wood. Seeing the trencher of meat and cheese, he shoved it aside and sniffed at the contents of the pitcher. Relieved to find it held only water, he lifted and drank deeply.

Did ye bring me back to my chambers? he asked as he glanced over his shoulder at Patrick.

Aye, along with Alex. Upon hearing how ye spoke with Drostan, we figured ye went up to the parapet. Ye often went there to brood.

Adam could see the wariness etched across his brother’s face. Lines of worry creased his brow, and his hands were clasped behind his back. Remembering Drostan’s words that his brothers had searched the Highlands for him, guilt haunted Adam. He gave his brother a slight nod as he took a piece of bread and cheese. Walking over to the hearth, he chewed the food slowly. So many questions filled him, but only one burned within his mind.

Why have ye returned, if your plans will have ye leaving? Patrick asked, not giving time for Adam to blurt out his one question.

Adam sighed and gazed into the flames. Finishing the last bite of bread, he wiped the crumbs from his face. Turning to face Patrick, he replied, To close the door on the past—to forge a new life away from the pain. A final pilgrimage.

Patrick unclasped his hands and went to Adam. Ye will always carry the pain of losing her. Ye cannae think that in another land away from Scotland ye would fare better. This is your home.

Adam realized part of his brother’s words rang true. Aye, the pain traveled with me—even to the distant lands I journeyed during my time away, but here—he waved his hand about—she dwelt and her spirit lingers. ’Tis stronger, the pain of her loss.

There is much we need to discuss before ye depart once again. Patrick’s tone waxed curt.

Aye, like how our brother, Michael, died by the hand of a MacKay—the verra one who still lives! Pray tell me why, Patrick? Have ye and Alex gone soft?

"We—your new laird and I, will account all that has happened in your absence. Then, if ye deem ye need to depart, I will open the gates myself. Ye return two years later, not the man who left. Where did your travels take ye that harden your heart and tongue further?"

To the Holy Lands with the Templar Knights, stated Adam, seeing the shock mar his brother’s face.

Patrick grasped his shoulders. "By the hounds! Your travels took ye that far? Why would ye take up with them? They are

Reviews for Dragon Knight's Ring

[thebookjunkiereads-1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Through the ages of time, love can make a way to be found again and again. But with the time that passes there will always be pain, sorrow, joy, passion, danger. Something broke the bounds to keep them apart. Having them come together again will not be welcomed. This was my first read of Mary Morgan and I was enchanted with the world of knights, dragons, myths, magic, time-travel, love of soulmates, a druid or two, a few faes here or there, and of course a bad guy. I got a very splendidly detailed time-travel romance that would entice the soul to make that ultimate sacrifice to find that one true love that was meant to be. Even on the second encounter there was power in that meeting. The explosion within the soul was not one to be denied the truth. There were a whole host of characters to become vested in. The reality of the world they were apart of and protecting was riveting. Scotland has been one of my top romance triggers of all time. Add to that the highlands makes it that much more for me. Then Mary Morgan boost it all with time-travel, knights, druids, and more. The second chance at that one love that was everything and anything to your world. Be prepared for an emotional ride that will allow for you to cry, laugh, be sad, happy, confused, elated, and passion filled. I will get a chance to explore more of Mary Morgan’s works, beginning with more of the Order of the Dragon Knight series.