Dragon Knight's Sword (3 page)

The University of Washington was a large campus, but Brigid knew it well, knowing which paths and shortcuts to take. Glancing at her watch, she noticed it was eleven. Professor McKibben took his tea around this time, yet tea was not what she needed to steady her nerves.

Actually, Brigid thought she could use a wee dram after last night. The dream she had was so powerful in its intensity, it had taken her several moments to realize she was in her bed, and not in a forest with a sinfully gorgeous-looking Highlander. She could still feel his breath on her skin, and she shivered.

“I receive a Scottish claymore, and I’m instantly having dreams of sexy Highlanders. What would the psych department make of that?”

Shrugging off the remnants of the dream, she quickly climbed the steps leading to the second floor of the building, smiling to herself at the numerous times she ran up these stone steps in anticipation of her visits with the professor. She had lost her parents to a car accident when she was an infant, and was raised by her grandparents. When she was nineteen, her grandfather died suddenly and then her grandmother soon thereafter; the grief was so overwhelming, she would walk through her days in numbing pain. Soon thereafter, she met Professor McKibben. He had filled the void, becoming not only her mentor, but her family, too.

So deep in her thoughts, she didn’t see the couple emerging through the doors, almost colliding with them. “Oops, sorry.”

His girlfriend giggled and pulled him back into her arms walking slowly down the steps, resting her head against his shoulder.

With a sigh, Brigid looked at them, so happy and in love. They only had eyes for each other. Another depressing thought to add to the growing list she was compiling.

“That’s right, Bree, no guy in your life, only in your dreams,” she muttered.

Walking through the doors, she was amazed at how nothing really changed on campus, as those same feelings crept over her in anticipation of learning something new.

As Brigid entered, she saw the professor’s secretary, Ms. Peterson, sitting at her desk. Her glasses were perched on the bridge of her nose, book in hand, looking as regal as she always did.

“Good morning, Ms. Peterson.” Brigid dropped her backpack and went to her.

“Oh, Brigid, what a delight to see you on this dreary morning,” Ms. Peterson exclaimed, as she put her book down and removed her glasses, finally embracing Brigid in a motherly hug.

“I’ve missed you too, Ms. Peterson,” sighed Brigid.

“Well, Brigid, what brings you to us today?” Ms. Peterson stood back and looked up at Brigid. “Are you here to visit, or do you have something for us?”

Brigid turned and reached for her pack. “A little of both; however, I do have something I need the professor to look at. It arrived at the shop yesterday morning, and I don’t have a clue as to the sender.”

She pulled out the envelope and held it against her chest. “I know I should have called first, but there’s just something different, almost unique about this latest artifact. I don’t understand any of it.” Brigid continued to ramble.

Ms. Peterson held her hand up and with a nod to Brigid, turned toward the door to the professor’s office. “Well, my dear, you should consult him right away. It seems this can’t wait any longer, and since when do you need to call for an appointment? Your visits are always welcome.

“Professor, look what the wind blew in,” as Ms. Peterson opened the door to his office, giving Brigid a reassuring squeeze on her arm as she guided her inside.

Archibald McKibbon was standing over his desk, papers laid haphazardly across it, books opened not only on the chairs, but on the floor as well. He was mumbling to himself, and his hair looked as if he had continually run his fingers through it, indicating to Brigid, he was deep in concentration.

“Hello, Archie,” she said, smiling.

“Brigid! What a sight for sore eyes this morning.” He dropped the book he was holding to reach out and gather her into his arms.

“Missed you, too,” as she snuggled into his embrace.

Archie drew back frowning. “I’ve been back for some time, and was wondering when you would show up on my doorstep. Don’t tell me you’ve got a man in your life and you’re too busy to visit an old friend?”

He released her and went to the door, where Ms. Peterson greeted him with a fresh pot of tea and an extra cup.

“Och, thank you, my dear,” he murmured.

“You’ve just returned a few weeks ago from Scotland,
and
I considered how involved you are right before classes start,” Brigid replied rather dryly. “You could have called
me
when you returned, too,” she stated, as she removed a text on ancient clans from a nearby chair and sat down.

He gave her a smile and pulled another chair out to sit beside her. “I know. I should have called earlier, but with the start of the new session—well, you understand how that can be, Brigid.” He took her hand and gently squeezed it. “Now, how have you been?”

Brigid was still holding the note and Archie glanced where she had it pressed against her heart. He frowned nodding toward it. “I suppose what you’re holding is of great importance for you to have a death grip on it?”

Nodding her head, she handed the note to him.

Archie stood to retrieve his glasses from his desk, and wandered over to the window to read the letter. “So my dear, where did you say this letter came from?”

“That’s the problem. Lisa and I don’t have a clue, no return address, or any information regarding the sender.
Nothing
,” sighed Brigid.

He moved back to his desk to study the letter with a magnifying glass. With a sigh, he sat down, removing his glasses. “Well, this I do know, they, the MacAoidh, are an ancient family. Supposedly, their origins can either be from the Picts or Irish.”

“There’s more than just this letter,” she said slowly.

He glanced back at the letter, then snapped his head back up. “The sword, too?”

“Oh yes, and it is magnificent.” A cool breeze drifted past, and she hugged her arms around herself.

Archie got up and walked over to his mahogany cabinet. Grabbing two glasses and a bottle of Glenmorangie, he promptly poured them both a drink.

“I believe this calls for a wee dram.” Raising his glass toward Brigid, he toasted her. “Slainte,” then tossed back the drink in one gulp.

She did the same, letting the afterglow of its effects wash over her taut nerves. Drawing her attention back to the professor she asked, “So, what more can you tell me about this clan?”

“They were part of an ancient one,” he replied.

Archie strolled over to a glass-enclosed bookcase, taking with him a set of keys he snatched from his desk. “These are books dealing with ancient Scotland, beginning of the clans and their history. Ahhh, here we are.” The book he withdrew from the case was massive and leather bound, looking no worse for wear.

“Well, my dear, let us see if your clan mentioned in the letter is in this book. MacAoidh clan...hmmmm,” then continued to read in silence.

The only sounds in the room were the methodical ticking of the clock, and the patter of rain on the window. Brigid’s mind started to drift to thoughts of her dark Highlander.

Archie spoke in a hushed tone. “Brigid, does this sword have a dragon emblem etched on it?”

She blanched. “Yes! Does it say something in the book?” Leaning over the desk, her heart slammed into her chest.

There in the ancient text was a picture of the sword—
her sword
!

“Sit down, Brigid, and I’ll tell you a story.

“There is an old legend claiming the MacAoidh, which now in present day are known as the Mackay clan, were the Keepers or Guardians of some ancient relics. Let me see where it states this.” Folding back the pages carefully until his hand stilled. “Here it is, the MacAoidh clan were part of an order called Knights of the Dragon Order. They were entrusted with relics from the Order in the year 149 AD.”

“149 AD?” Brigid whispered.

Archie only nodded. “For over a millennium, the Clan MacAoidh protected these relics until a battle was fought on Samhain, in the year 1204 AD; between the MacAoidh, better known as the Mackay, and clan MacFhearguis. Margaret Mackay was killed by her brother, Duncan, on sacred ground. The relics were taken from them that night, never to be held by the MacAoidh clan again.” Archie removed his glasses, walking back to the bookcase to retrieve another old book from the shelf.

“So horrific. What could have happened?” Shock filled Brigid with the revelation of finding out that her sword could have belonged to such a violent family.

However, were not all the clans feuding and violent during those times?

She shot a look at Archie. “There’s more.” Standing, Brigid started to pace, since she was never any good at sitting still.

Archie waited patiently, hands clasped behind him.

“When I opened the box and placed my hand over it, I had this feeling of déjà vu. As if, I knew this sword. I became light-headed and the world tilted. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

He just nodded.

“I also thought...” She threw her hands up exasperated. “I
thought
I heard a voice.” Shrugging she added, “I didn’t want you to think I was crazy.”

“Och, Brigid, I would never think that of you.” Archie came over and placed a firm arm around her. “There could be a number of reasons as to what happened to you. Yet an artifact carries with it the story or the history of itself within. And yourself being a sensitive soul, you might have intuitively sensed its—vibrations? Or, you had not eaten breakfast and were dizzy from the excitement?” Archie chuckled at the last comment.

“I know, it all
does
sound silly, but I can’t help but feel like I’ve just opened Pandora’s box.” She laughed nervously.

“Yes, it wouldn’t be the first time someone opened Pandora’s box, and it usually took a hero to seal it once again. Come sit down, Brigid. Let me look in another book to see if we can glean anymore from this story of the Mackays, and the relics they speak of.”

“I think I’m losing my mind!” Brigid exclaimed, as she jumped up to retrieve her camera from her backpack. “I completely forgot about these!”

Archie took his time going through the digital photos until he slowly brought his gaze up to hers. “Stunning, positively stunning, Brigid. Very old craftsmanship, too. It’s a shame you could not bring it here. I would like to see this sword.” Handing the camera back to Brigid, he went back to the bookcase, pulling not one, but several more rather large old books. He was mumbling to himself, as he started looking through the first book. “No, this won’t tell us anything, just more on the early clans. Yes, this is what I was looking for.”

She rolled her eyes. “What? Ancient Scottish legends? It’s going to give us some insight on the family and sword?”

“Tsk, tsk, Brigid. Many of your legends are based on facts. Bards would weave a tale, based on the event. Now mind you...sometimes they did exaggerate the tale, but in the end, there were some basis of truth to their story. Yes, just as I thought,” tapping his finger on the page which caught his attention. Archie turned the book around, as Brigid got up and walked over to the desk.

“The Legend of the Knights of the Dragon Order, by Eoghan the Bard. Okay, so now you want me to read a
faery tale
?”

“Brigid O’Neill! I’m ashamed of you. You of all people should believe in the legends. So now you’re telling me, what, no?” Archie frowned at her as he leaned across the table to pull out another book.

Brigid cringed. “I do, but I don’t see how a bardic tale can help us.” With a sigh, she slumped down into the chair and started reading aloud.

“Legend of the Knights of the Dragon Order...They were shrouded in mists and myth, for they came from the stars. The Tuatha De Danann, or as they were sometimes referred to, the Shining Ones, descended upon Eire bringing with them their beasts, the dragons. Great power and magic these dragons possessed. Governed by none, they lived in peaceful harmony with the people of Eire. Magically bonded with the Shining Ones and with the land...they dwelled.”

Brigid peered up at Archie with a skeptical frown.

“Keep reading,” he said, pointing at the book.

“With the dawn of Christianity, dragons were hunted and killed, since it was believed they were evil. Fearing the dragons would be no more, the Tuatha De Danann chose one of their kind, a male, to marry one of the females of Eire. Out of this union, five sons were born, each one entrusted with one of the relics, and the Order of the Dragon Knights was formed. The Shining Ones believed in time they would come back to dwell with the people of Eire. However, the persecution of their beliefs and the fear of these dragons led to a fury of destruction of these peaceful creatures, leaving only one remaining dragon.

“At that time, the Clan MacAiodh, five brothers, left Eire with the relics and the last remaining dragon. Legend states, Manannan Mac Lir gave them safe passage over the sea to Scotland. There, they traveled deep into the Highlands, settling within Glen Urquhart.”

“Brigid, I think you need to take a look at this,” bringing over another book.

She struggled for breath at what she saw. “Those are the relics?” She could not take her eyes off the drawings in the book.

Archie began reading. “The Order consisted of five relics, the sword, stone, axe, shield, and book; each one possessing some sort of magical power, linking them not only to the dragons, but to the Tuatha De Danann, or the realm of faery. The relic was bonded with each person.”

He paused in thought before adding, “If your sword is indeed one of these relics, Brigid, you have in your possession the sword of Duncan Mackay.”

Frowning, she looked up at him. “But why send it to
me
? Who would want me to have it? If the legend states the relics were taken from this clan, then where have they been
hiding?
And why now?” Brigid paused, attempting to fathom all of this. How could it be? Yet, there before her eyes in the picture was her sword, in every detail—including the dragon.

“What am I supposed to do with it, Archie?”