Beneath a Midnight Moon - By Amanda Ashley Page 0,76

fact that, since the Isle of Coriantan had allied with Mouldour, Bourke had twice the number of fighting men at his disposal, twice the number of warships, as well.

And there was something else to be considered, Lord Kray had reminded them. To attack Mouldour now would only serve to break the tenuous peace that had formed between the two countries while they took time out to lick their wounds and regroup from their last brutal encounter.

And there was one more thing to be considered, Lord Kray had remarked the last time they’d discussed the subject, and that was the fact that, as far as the Interrogator knew, he had captured Kylene. If she were to go to Mouldour, it would put both their lives in danger.

And so the days passed, and no decision was made. And then, that very morning, Dubrey had announced that all unauthorized ships were being turned away from the coasts of Mouldour. One ship, not heeding the warning, had been destroyed. And since there was no way to approach the island of Mouldour except by ship, the odds against rescuing Hardane now seemed insurmountable.

“So, what are we going to do?” Kylene asked, her gaze shifting from Lord Kray to Sharilyn and back again.

“We’ll wait,” Kray decided, though the inactivity was driving him to near madness, as it was everyone else. “The Interrogator must want something. A ransom, perhaps. Until we know what it is, we’ll wait, and hope for the best.”

A small cry of despair rose on Kylene’s lips. Rising, the needlepoint in her lap falling unnoticed to the floor, Sharilyn crossed the room and put her arms around her daughter-in-law’s shoulders.

“You must take better care of yourself, child,” she admonished softly, kindly. “You do Hardane no good by refusing to eat. You need to keep up your strength, especially now.”

Kylene nodded as she wrapped her arm around her belly. Everything Sharilyn said was true, but she had no appetite for food, and sleep offered no rest, only nightmare images of Hardane being tortured. Sometimes, she heard him crying her name as the Interrogator flayed the skin from his back, and sometimes, mired in a web of dreams and memories, it was her own screams that echoed down the corridors of her mind, her own back that cringed under the lash.

She ran from the room as nausea rose in her throat, nausea that had nothing to do with the fact that she was pregnant with Hardane’s child, and everything to do with the awful images that had haunted her day and night since he’d been gone.

Chapter 34

Renick paced his quarters, his brow furrowed, his rage a growing, living thing within him.

Curse Hardane! Why must the man be so mule-headed? Why did he refuse to reveal the secret of Wolffan shape shifting? A part of the heritage of a seventh-born child, Hardane had said, a part of their infernal religion. Renick had heard all that before. Perhaps it was true, but there was more to it than that. Shape shifting meant power, and Renick was a man who was obsessed with power, who craved it as some men craved women or liquor or the strange foreign intoxicants that made a man’s mind wander.

Ah, to be able to change shape, to have the power to appear as a lowly servant or a highborn king. There was no end to the advantages such power would give him. And he meant to have it.

For the past twelve years, he had been a man of power and authority, second in command only to the Lord High Sovereign of Mouldour himself. And when he’d realized that Carrick’s brother was about to steal the throne, he had, without a qualm, pledged his allegiance to Bourke. But now he was tired of taking orders, tired of doing Bourke’s dirty work.

It was time to usurp the throne for himself.

He wanted the power, and the wealth that went with it.

He wanted the adulation of the people.

And it was all within his grasp. He would learn the secret of shape shifting, dispose of both Hardane and Kylene, thereby thwarting the prophesy, plot Bourke’s death, and rule Mouldour.

In time, he might even conquer Argone.

The first step was to bring Kylene to the Fortress.

Chapter 35

Hardane swayed on his feet as two of the Interrogator’s men removed the shackles from his wrists, the noose, and collar, then quickly left the cell and locked the door.

He watched as Renick dismissed the guards, wanting nothing more than to curl up on the