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    Forever Knight
    Forever Knight
    Forever Knight
    Ebook59 pages53 minutes

    Forever Knight

    By Jackie Ivie

    2.5/5

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    About this ebook

    Against the backdrop of Medieval Scotland, two enemies fight a desperate battle against destiny and desire.
    BRAWNY. BOLD. BRAVE.
    Laird Gavynn MacEuann's a man of action and skill. Both in battle and with the lasses. Notorious for towering strength and matchless features, he takes what he wants and never loses - but conquering this particular castle is easy compared with claiming and then controlling the beautiful, spike-tongued lass he frees by mistake.
    STUNNING. SPOILED. STUBBORN.
    Lady Brielle Dilbin is headstrong. Proud. She'd rather molder in a dungeon than accept her father's will. If the mud-covered Highlanders would give her a moment, she'd tell them so. Or make their leader understand. Or do something other than deal with passions and forbidden lusts that no gently-bred lady should have to endure; especially connected to the man who orders her silence and then demands obedience as well.
    --short story originally published in the Mammoth Book of Scottish Romance, Jan 2011

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJackie Ivie
    Release dateMar 17, 2011
    ISBN9781476407296
    Forever Knight

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      Book preview

      Forever Knight - Jackie Ivie

      Forever Knight

      Jackie Ivie

      Copyright 2011, Jackie Ivie

      Smashwords Edition

      This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portion thereof, in any form. This book may not be resold or uploaded for distribution to others.

      This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

      CHAPTER ONE

      Heave, lads! A bairn wouldn’t feel that gentle touch! Grunts followed Gavynn’s cry, but little else. Put your backs and arms into it!

      Perhaps you could put your mouth into it as well?

      One of the lumps of straining men muttered it. Gavynn ignored him. He had to. Iain’s freedom depended on it. And the man wasn’t accurate. Gavynn had been right in the struggle with them until he’d stepped away to assess their progress, and lack, thereof. From what could be seen.

      Rainfall washed them, making it difficult to see. That was just and right and necessary. Rain helped hide perfidy such as pulling down a castle wall, cloaking the thirty-four men anchored to its base with a series of thickly woven ropes.

      Courage, lads! You’re acting as if ‘tis constructed with more than sand and piss!

      ’Tis solid cursed stone!

      One of the lumps quit straining in order to yell the answer. Gavynn shouted louder. Verra well. I’ll admit they may have tossed in a bit of dung. But only on occasion. You’ll need to pull harder! Find the weakness! Move in rhythm! We just need a bit of luck.

      We’ve na’ much luck tonight. What with the rain and nae light.

      The night does its work. As does my cousin, Arran, with his pipes. You ever hear such loud disjointed playing?

      Gavynn used the same range of voice with each yell. He’d be hoarse if he didn’t cease, but that didn’t stop him. He had to keep men straining against the wall. Those that flagged needed constant needling and exhortation from a loud voice, regardless of how the words felt sucked away the moment they’d been voiced. Very little made it through to men aware only of the thump of heartbeat in their ears; not even the loud sound of pipes playing discordantly somewhere in the castle.

      Arran and his men have vast amounts of…hot air tonight. One of them put Gavynn’s thought into words.

      Aye. And na’…much brawn. Another man agreed, although it came with insult.

      Appears he’s na’ the lone one. Just listen to the laird!

      The slur galvanized Gavynn. That’s it! Move your worthless hides. I’ll show you how ‘tis done!

      Gavynn pushed his way to the front of a line of men, slipping more than once in brine-soaked earth. Such was the result of constructing a castle encircled by a trickle of sea-fed moat. They’d drained what they could just before dusk as they waited. Planning. Worrying. There were other things he’d rather be doing; lots of other things. But he didn’t have a choice. He had to rescue his littlest brother, Iain.

      The rope was slickest near the wall, due to the water level. Gavynn looped an arm about hemp, scraping flesh as he pulled, feeling the strain against solid stone. He’d been denigrating the rock walls without proof. Lord Dillbin built his castle well, funded by Sassenach silver. There was little give to it. Despite the rain, the mud they’d shoveled out of the way, the hours spent chiseling about the cornerstones, nothing moved. Gavynn yanked until tendons in his jaw hurt with the effort.

      And then the rope slackened, going limp. There was the gravest rush of noise, accompanied by a thud of something large landing in the muck, sloshing

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