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Writing Projects: Fiction :: Nonfiction
Fiction Excerpt: THE SPIRAL STONE
Historical Romance, 90K words
"'Tis death or marriage, Aislinn. You're father won’t be coming back. I am your only alternative."
Dermot stepped forward, his voice a whisper. "Garnock, what have you done with Gawen? Where is he?"
The truth became clear to her as a wave crashing against the shore. Aislinn stood stunned, still as stone while her companions roared in grief. All around her fighting exploded.
The force of fear and sorrow welled up in an instant, propelling her into action. Surprising Garnock, she stomped on his foot. As he yelped in pain and bent forward, Aislinn snatched the dirk from his belt and with its hilt, hit the back of his skull behind the ear.
Buchanans leapt from their places at the clearing’s edge and engaged Riobard and Lachlan as they shielded her. In the fray she even noticed Dermot push a Buchanan out of the way before he could reach one of her cousins. Garnock fell to his knees and Aislinn bent forward, holding the dirk's tip close to his neck, drawing a small bit of blood.
She whispered in Garnock’s ear. "You will regret this day, Garnock!"
Aislinn brought her knee up under his chin and heard the dull pop of dislocating bone. Without looking back, she turned and sprinted down the hillock, Riobard and Lachlan trailing close behind.
"Until Samhain, Aislinn!" Garnock's voice sped down the tor on the wind. "At Summer's end I will come for you, willing or no."
The trio took a specified path, designed to miss the traps set for their pursuers. The pack thinned as some tripped over logs and others fell into small, but unexpected, pits in the earth.
Watching her step, Aislinn noticed a tall figure standing at the water's edge, pulling his own boat ashore. Hearing the commotion, the stranger turned and drew a sword from the scabbard across his back.
A warning shout died in her throat as Aislinn heard Lachlan's muffled grunt behind her. She stopped and crouched, her heart freezing at the site of a tight-lipped Lachlan clutching his shoulder. Blood ran down one arm where and arrow had struck him. Groaning, he broke off the arrow's end and looked around for her.
"Go!"
Pale, Lachlan yelled and pushed her forward with almost enough force to knock her down. Riobard sprinted ahead and Aislinn followed, stumbling along the way.
As they neared the shore, the Buchanans howled behind them, flinging rocks and other debris. Riobard vaulted into their boat and grabbed the oars. Aislinn met the stranger's eyes as he jumped forward and helped Lachlan aboard.
"You picked a fine time for your arrival, peacemaker."
Seeing him clearly in the moonlight for the first time, Aislinn recognized the man’s tawny Cahoun features. Like many a Cahoun before him, his auburn hair was tied in a thin braid on one side while the rest fell to his shoulder.
"Aye, but I didn't think it was Garnock's wish that I arrive at all." Deep-set amber eyes lit for a moment on her face before moving to the shadows up the hill.
The traps had given the Buchanan’s pause about halfway down the tor. As Aislinn stepped into the boat, a shrieking Buchanan burst from the darkness, pitching a fist-sized rock ahead of him. Too late, the Cahoun arbiter pounced like a cat into the projectile’s path, but the missile struck Aislinn’s temple a hard blow.
Spots clouded her vision and Aislinn stumbled, scraping her hand on the side of the boat as she fumbled for purchase. As she fell back, the Cahoun caught her, wrenching her neck with the force of her momentum.
He pushed her into his own boat and climbed in after her, casting off with an oar. Her cousins followed, Lachlan turning paler each moment. Before the crafts were too far apart, Lachlan tossed over her bow and quiver with his good arm.
Allowing herself one last glance up at the tor, Aislinn saw their small fire burst its confines. It’s flames and smoke outlined Dermot’s slim frame, staring after her as he helped Garnock to his feet. Still, a band of Buchanan warriors chased after them, heading also for their coracles. Part of her grieved for her father’s death. Part of her hoped Dermot would survive this night.
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