Susan King - [Celtic Nights 02] (51 page)

BOOK: Susan King - [Celtic Nights 02]
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THE SWORD MAIDEN

The Celtic Nights Series

Book Three

 

 

 

 

Dear Reader,

Swans and swan lore are shining threads in the Celtic as well as the medieval fabric. The history, the legends, and the natural care of these beautiful birds, who lend themselves so well to imagery and metaphor, were a pleasure to research. As early as the twelfth century, swans in Britain were regarded as the exclusive property of the English monarchs. Masters of Swans were appointed by the crown to care for the birds, and to raise them for table and captivity on rivers and lakes. Today, swans in Britain are carefully tended and protected.

Symbolism was never far from the medieval mind, and swans have always lent themselves to that. Medieval chronicles record that in May, 1306, Edward I of England held a grandiose feast at Westminster, in which he knighted, en masse, three hundred knights. Later in the festivities, two captive swans were brought into the great hall, where the king then vowed revenge against the Scots he so despised.

The link between swans and Scotland exists in the rich Celtic tradition of swan legends and tales; the Lindsay crest features a swan with wings raised. For purposes of the story, the legend of the swans of Elladoune was invented, and a second Feast of the Swans was created in Newcastle, where the English king stayed in 1306 while gathering his armies.

Readers who are familiar with my previous novel,
Laird of the Wind,
will recognize Sir Gawain Avenel from his introduction there, and will know James Lindsay and Isobel Seton and their involvement in the cause of Scotland.

Finally, while arrow catching is possible to do, it is best left to experts! I was fortunate to be instructed by a tenth degree black belt who has trained to master the technique.

If you'd like to know more about my print books and ebooks, please visit my websites,
www.susanfraserking.com
, and
www.susankingbooks.com
. I'm also part of the Word Wenches blog at
www.wordwenches.com
.

Happy Reading!

Susan King

 

 

Page forward for an excerpt from

THE SWORD MAIDEN

The Celtic Nights Series

Book Three

 

 

 

 

 

Excerpt from

 

The Sword Maiden

The Celtic Nights Series

Book Three

 

by

 

Susan King

National Bestselling Author

 

 

 

 

 

THE SWORD MAIDEN

Reviews & Accolades

 

"Against the backdrop of the Hundred Years' War, King deftly spins a mystical Highland romance."

~Publishers Weekly

"Magic, myth and history blend to perfection..."

~Romantic Times Book Club

(Top Pick, K.I.S.S. Award)

"Bewitching... entrancing. Highly recommended!"

~The Romance Readers Connection

 

 

 

 

Scotland, 1431

Lachlann walked the garron pony over the meadow to the stable, while Eva strolled beside him. She glanced up at him, so tall and strong in the moonlight, his dented armor a dull gleam, his black hair sweeping back. He looked—so familiar, and yet so changed. And she had never thought to see him again.

"How is it you came home to Scotland so sudden in the night, after years gone?" she asked. "Are you well? Your face is scarred. You were wounded in that war over in France."

"I am fine, Eva," he murmured.

"Are you a knight now?"

"I am."

"When did you leave France?"

"A few months ago."

Despite his terseness, she went on. "Are you a knight and a landholder? How did you fare in France? Have you been back in Scotland for long?" She knew she chattered on and could not help it. Stunned by his arrival, she craved the reassurance of their old friendship—if it could ever be reclaimed, after their parting when he had left three years earlier.

"Hold," he said, half laughing. "I have never been as fast at answering your questions as you are at asking them. I am well enough. I came back alive." He shrugged, walking beside her. "A knight, but without land. France was... a harsh place. I returned to Scotland last summer and have been in Perth."

"My cousins came back from France last winter, and told me that the war there is difficult for the French, Scots, and English alike."

"It is war, Eva. Why are you staying here instead of at your home in Innisfarna? I did not expect to find you at my own mother's home, and she gone. And where is..." He paused. "Your husband? You did marry that fellow?"

She halted in the yard. "I... am away from Innisfarna for now. And Colin Campbell is not my husband—yet," she said bluntly. "We are betrothed. He was in France also, for a while."

"Ah," he murmured. "So when is the wedding?"

She hesitated, wishing she did not have to answer that. "When he returns to Argyll. He is away."

"Ah," he said again, just that.

"He is an ambassador to France. Did you see him there? My cousins said you were a guard in the French court."

"I never saw him. I was at court only a short while. After that I rode with a special company. If you are not at Innisfarna, who is? I saw horses in the stable there, when I went past," he said abruptly. "Whose are they?"

"The king installed a garrison there, but I refuse to stay at the castle, one woman among so many men. The soldiers came here just before my father—" Her voice wavered.

"I heard." His voice gentled. "I am sorry, Eva."

She drew a shaky breath. "There is food and water stored in the stable for your horse. Come this way."

He led the horse inside and Eva followed. While he found an empty stall, she went down the aisle and lifted one of the large buckets of water placed there. Lachlann came toward her.

"Let me take that," he said. "It is heavy."

"It is no trouble," she said, but he took the bucket. "I am accustomed to hard work. Since I have been here, I have been fetching water, hoeing the garden, tending livestock, cooking and brewing, weaving baskets and mats, even cutting peat."

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