daughter, Channa Leigh."
Dugald blinked at him. "What?"
"I will require yer daughter."
Dugald stared at him in blatant disbelief. "My daughter!" A look of horror washed over the man's face. "But... but... she is not chattel, to be bartered back and forth like a lamb."
" 'Tis my price."
"But she is betrothed to another."
Almost, he relented. But then he recalled the loneliness of the keep, the warmth of Channa Leigh's smile. It strengthened his resolve. "I will have the girl for one year. When winter comes again, she may return home and take her vows."
Dugald shook his head. Not even to save his wife could he allow his daughter to go off with the dark wizard of the mountain.
"It canna be done," Dugald said. And then he glanced at his wife, lying so still and pale upon the bed they had shared for over thirty years. How could he abandon her now? Without the wizard's help, she would surely die.
Swallowing hard, he looked back at the man standing tall and still, waiting for his decision. "Please, my lord, have mercy on us. My wife will nae forgive me if I trade our only child for her life."
Darkfest shrugged. " 'Tis yer decision."
"I have a fine ram, and a wee bit of gold."
"I have no need of a ram," Darkfest replied brusquely. "And no need for gold."
"Please," Dugald begged, wringing his callused hands. "Be merciful."
Channa Leigh squared her shoulders. She knew what had to be done. Taking a deep breath, she said, "Papa, dinna fret. I'm not afraid. I will go with him and gladly, if it will help Mama."
"Nay, child. Yer mother would not hear of it."
"I have yer word, Channa Leigh?" Darkfest asked. "Ye will come with me, of yer own free will, and stay with me for one year?"
"Aye."
Dugald looked at his daughter as if seeing her for the first time. "Nay, Channa Leigh," he said sternly. "I forbid it."
" 'Tis done, Papa."
"Leave me," Darkfest said. "Both of ye."
Channa Leigh shook her head. "Nay, I wish to stay."
"Come, Daughter," her father said.
He reached for her hand, but she shook him off. "Nay, I will not leave Mama."
Dugald looked at the wizard. " 'Tis sorry I am," he said apologetically. "She can be most stubborn at times,."
Darkfest nodded. "Let her stay."
Dugald pressed a kiss to his wife's brow, glanced fleetingly at the wizard, who loomed like a tall dark cloud at the foot of the bed, then left the room, quietly closing the rough-hewn wooden door behind him.
Darkfest moved to the side of the bed and took the woman's hand in his. Her skin was hot and dry, her breathing labored. Why did they always wait until the soul was on the brink of flight to call him? Were they so afraid of him, so afraid of his power, his wrath? Well, they were right to fear him.
He closed his eyes and summoned his power, felt it crawl over his skin as it gathered and coalesced, felt it swell and grow until it thundered within him, until he was aware of nothing else, only the power thrumming through every fiber of his being.
He placed both hands on the woman's head, and then, channeling his strength into his hands, he began to chant softly.
"I am Darkfest, master of fire and flame. Spirit of evil, depart in my name."
He felt the fever leave the woman, felt it burn through his hands, felt the weakness that had engulfed her as the sickness left her body and entered his, to be devoured by his strength.
He took a deep breath, exhaling it in a long, slow sigh as he removed his hands from the woman. " 'Tis done."
Channa Leigh stared at him through sightless eyes. "She's healed?" A wealth of hope lay in those two words.
"Aye. She will sleep through the night and when she wakes on the morrow, she will be well."
Tears sparkled in Channa Leigh's eyes. "Thank you, my lord," she whispered tremulously.
"I have done my part." He clenched his hands at his sides, wondering if she would keep her word. Wondering what he would do if she did not. Did she but realize the power she held over him, she could have easily refused without fear of retribution. But she did not know. "Will ye now do yours?" he asked, and waited, hardly daring to breathe, for her answer.
"Aye, my lord," she said tremulously. "I will come to you whenever you say."
"Tomorrow morn."
She crossed her arms over her breasts, a shiver of unease shaking