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his mind and in
truth, he never believed his brother would prove a threat. He still
thought of Diarmuid as the youth he left behind, but his brother
was no child. He was a man now who feared for his older brother’s
safety. Liam had not returned home as promised and when Diarmuid
ventured out to find out why, he heard the stories about the fiend
that lived in the forest.
    Diarmuid stood before him now with men
flanking his side ready to do his bidding.
    Loucetios whinnied and complained, not liking
his freedom compromised with his reins tied to a tree. Cormac stood
back behind Diarmuid, shaking with fear. He was not sure if his
squire feared him or his wrath for leading his brother here.
    “I am sorry, Sir,” his squire hurried to tell
him. “But your brother tricked—”
    “Silence,” his brother warned. His squire
lowered his head.
    “What is the name of this, Diarmuid?”
    “Do you go to her, the demon,” he clarified,
“with your own free will?”
    “I know of no demon.” He made a move toward
Loucetios, but his brother withdrew his sword. The scraping of
metal told him the others did likewise. His gaze leveled on
Diarmuid. “Do you plan on slaying me?”
    “Only if you do not come peaceably. Your soul
can still be saved.” Diarmuid glanced at the cloud-covered sky
before narrowing his gaze on Liam again. “Step fully out of the
shadows.”
    He knew what his brother’s ploy meant. He
wanted to see if he would burn once the sun’s rays hit his skin.
The day proved overcast and dreary. Even Glamis would not burn—at
first. He lifted his shoulders in a shrug of indifference and
stepped forward as ordered.
    He stood there as his brother stared at him.
Waiting.
    “Well?” Liam held out his hands to the side
in question. “What now? Shall I dance for you next?”
    “Do not mock me.”
    “It is not my wish to do so. I am trying to
understand the meaning behind your ploy here. You have drawn a
weapon against me. You have dragged my squire out here, and you
hold my horse prisoner. And for what? So you can talk of demons as
if you expect one to swoop in from hell’s fire and drag us back
down.”
    His brother’s stance faltered, but then his
gaze shifted and Liam knew his brother’s gaze locked onto his neck,
where the small pinpricks stood out against the paleness of the
skin. His brother inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring. “You
protect her, Liam. Seize him,” he ordered his men.
    Liam withdrew his sword. He could not let
them take him. He would not allow them to torture the truth out of
him. He would not give Glamis’ whereabouts freely, but even the
strongest and the bravest had a breaking point.
    The first man came forward. He flipped his
blond strands out of his eyes with a shake of his head and grinned
at Liam. He swung his broadsword across his body as if he planned
to fell a tree. Liam’s sword clanged against the blond man’s weapon
in protest, blocking his advances. The other darker haired man
moved with intent, but Liam whirled to greet him, his sword making
contact with the man’s neck. The man’s sword slipped from his hand
as he fell back, his life’s blood leaving his body in spurts of
red. He returned to the blond man whose face had lost all color as
he stared at his fallen friend. The blond man took a step back and
Liam lowered his sword, believing the fight was over, but his
brother surprised him for the second time this day.
    Diarmuid flew at him, his sword thrusting
forward. “Better you die now than later at the demon’s hand.”
Before Liam could react, his brother’s sword pierced his side.
    He met his brother’s gaze in disbelief.
Indeed his brother looked horrified as he yanked his sword out of
his flesh. Liam staggered back and fell on one knee. His hand
gripped his side where the blood soaked his jerkin.
    Aaaaaah!
    The cry of agony pierced the air, like the
call of a banshee ready to swoop down and claim the doomed.
    Liam glance toward the forest in fear,
knowing