Read Susan King - [Celtic Nights 02] for Free Online Page B

and some of the monks ran forward. The abbot ran on sturdy legs, his dark tunic flapping around his muscular calves.
    Within moments, he loped alongside De Soulis's horse. "Be strong of heart!" he called to Juliana in Gaelic. "And keep your vow, Juliana—keep silent!"
    Tears clouded her eyes as she watched Malcolm. He called out a reassurance to the boys, then stopped in the meadow.
    "We will pray for you!" he yelled. "We will ask for a miracle!"
    She looked toward the loch, where the two guards stood in the water. One hooked Artan, the large white cob, around the neck, and the other held a net, while the swan beat his wings in a fury.
    Juliana turned away, stifling a sob. She too was caught, though her net was woven of secrets.

 
     
     
    Chapter 5

     
    A golden chain encircled her neck, yet it was a captive's chain nonetheless. Similar links bound her wrists and hands, which rested motionless in her lap. The white satin gown, embroidered with silver threads, was the finest garment she had ever worn. A close cap of white feathers covered her head, and her pale hair spilled down her back.
    The precious chains and beautiful costume were meant to transform her into a human version of the swan sitting beside her in the cart. Juliana lifted her head proudly, determined to hide her fear and disgrace from her English enemies.
    She swayed inside the pony-drawn cart, feeling dizzy and dull-witted. The watered wine given her by one of the guards had been bitter with added herbs, which sapped her energy and made her feel vague and slow, as if she floated through a dream.
    Yet she felt as if she were caught in a nightmare.
    The cart rumbled along a torchlit corridor inside the king's castle. Servants bearing large platters of food hurried past. Ahead, two men carried a huge tray displaying a castle sculpted of marzipan and adorned with sugared fruits.
    Juliana glanced at the large male mute swan settled beside her in a nest of green embroidered satin. A gold chain around his long neck was attached to an upright wooden post. Artan ruffled his feathers nervously when one of the ponies whickered.
    Juliana made a wordless, soothing sound. Artan lifted his orange beak, its base knobbed in black. He chirred and quieted.
    Beyond a set of tall oaken doors, she heard the sounds of music, laughter, and the clatter of dishes and knives. She knew that a banquet was in progress, attended by the king's guests.
    Though her head spun from the wine, she sat aloof while a serving woman arranged the sumptuous white gown around her and adjusted the cap of feathers. Artan hissed and the woman stepped back hastily.
    "That swan is a beautiful beast, but mean," the woman said. "But ah, the lady looks like a princess. Seamstresses and artists worked day and night to make this gown and the nest. 'Tis a shame, I say, that the king only means to make a fool of her and her Scottish people with all this costly finery."
    "Since when are ye the king's advisor?" one of the guards scoffed. "Go tell the chamberlain that the girl is ready to be presented to king and court." The woman hurried away.
    "Here, pretty bird," one guard said, chortling as he approached. He reached out and stroked Juliana's shoulder with damp fingers. She jerked away.
    Artan hissed and swiped a wing at the guard, who jumped back. "That foul-tempered swan belongs on the king's table," he muttered. "And the Swan Maiden would do well in a man's bed."
    "King Edward wants her brought pure and maidensome to his feast, or we will all be blamed," the first said. "Keep yer hands away. 'Tis eerie the way that swan defends her. Chills my bones, it do, and I'll not touch her, king or none."
    Juliana fisted her hands in her lap, gold chains chinking. Several days had passed since she and Artan had been captured in Scotland. The journey south to Newcastle had been a blur of rough cart rides and chafing ropes, aching muscles and constant fear, infrequent meals of stale bread and cheese. And too often, she had