The Betrayal - By Ruth Langan Page 0,55

one of my own.”

“You’ll destroy us all.” Hazlet snatched up a heavy golden candlestick and scrambled to her feet. “You think yourself better than mortals, do you, witch? A lot of good your honesty will do you now. You’ve just sealed your own fate.”

“Would you add murder to your sins, Hazlet?”

At Kylia’s words the older woman stared at her for long, silent moments before tossing the candlestick aside.

“If I can’t kill you, I’ll at least make you suffer, as I’ve suffered.”

Like a madwoman, Hazlet raced about the room, snatching torches and candles, snuffing them into the dirt.

Holding the last remaining candle aloft, she made her way to the door and turned with a look of triumph.

“I can’t think of a more perfect place for an other worldly creature than this room filled with the dead. Let’s just see what powers you hold over them, witch.”

Kylia watched as the doors slowly closed behind Hazlet, leaving the room in inky blackness. From beyond the doors, she could hear the sound of the timber being thrown into place to secure them.

Then there was an eerie silence broken only by the sound of her own shallow breathing, as Kylia struggled not to give in to the fear that threatened to engulf her. But as the silence deepened, she could hear the rustle of rodents slithering across the sand, and she stifled a scream as something brushed the hem of her gown.

“My lady?” Grant stepped into Kylia’s chambers and was pounced upon by Wee Lad. With a laugh he cradled the little wolf in his arms and scratched behind his ear. “I can see that you’re no longer the weak, wounded pup we found in the forest.”

Grant looked over at the serving wench. “Ardis, would you fetch the lady from her sleeping chambers?”

“The lady Kylia isn’t here, my lord.”

He handed her the pup before turning away. “I’ll find her below stairs.”

After walking the length of the gardens and back, he went in search of the housekeeper. He found her in the great hall, preparing a tray of ale for their dinner.

When she looked up, he said, “I thought I’d find the lady Kylia here with you.”

“Nay, my lord. I haven’t seen the lady since early this afternoon.” Seeing Dougal just entering the hall with Hazlet, she smiled. “Shall I serve your evening meal now, my lord?”

“Not until I find the lady Kylia.”

Hearing him, Dougal laughed. “Is she lost, or merely hiding?”

Grant shrugged. “Her servant hasn’t seen her, nor has Mistress Gunn, since this afternoon.”

“Perhaps she went to the village.”

Grant shook his head. “We would have passed her along the way.” He started out. “I’ll inquire of the servants. Someone must have seen her.”

Dougal turned to follow. “I’ll walk to the stable. Perhaps she decided to ride.”

Distracted, Grant merely nodded. “If so, Gresham would know.”

When they were gone, Hazlet walked to the fire to warm herself. She looked every inch the proper mistress of Duncrune Castle. She had changed into a fresh gown and headdress, her hair tucked out of sight, her veil in place to screen her face. But she was so cold. Not even the logs blazing on the hearth could chase the chill from her soul. It was as though her blood had turned to ice.

Or perhaps, she thought with a shudder, it was her heart that had frozen.

For so long now she had gone through the motions of living. But her life had ended that day on the field of battle, when her brother, and then her lover, had given up their lives.

And now she felt as though it were all happening again. The pain, the shock, the fear and shame.

All because of the witch.

Chapter Eighteen

Kylia took deep, calming breaths until the first frantic feeling of panic passed. What was there to fear, after all? Hazlet hadn’t harmed her. She had merely locked her in the burial vault. Though it was dark and damp and chilly, it posed no threat to her life. She had suffered discomfort before. She drew her shawl more tightly around her shoulders and began sorting through her dilemma. The first thing she needed was light.

She extended her arms and began to chant the ancient words. Within minutes there was a faint glow of light. She looked over and saw a torch lying in the dirt, with a fire just beginning to burn at the tip. With a feeling of elation, she raced across the room and held the torch aloft until it was ablaze. After thrusting it