"Do you think I would believe one such as you?" Montiori asked scornfully.
"Believe what you will. I speak the truth."
"We shall see. Melena! Attend me!"
There was a restless stirring among the men as they stepped aside to make way for their lord's witch.
Reyes stared at the woman. She was small and spare, hardly bigger than a child. Though she was now old and bent, he could see she had once been a beauty. Her hair, once golden, was now dull and streaked with gray. Her skin was wrinkled and leathery, but her eyes still held the fire of youth.
She stopped in front of Reyes, a cackle rising in her throat. "I know you," she said, poking her finger in his chest. "You look much like your father before you." Her hand curled around his biceps. "Tall and strong, just like him, you are." Her fingernails were long and sharp and she raked them down his chest, then turned and looked up at Montiori. "You summoned me, my lord?"
"Before I take his head, I want to know if he speaks the truth."
With a nod, Melena turned her attention back to Reyes. "The truth," she murmured, "we must have the truth." She placed a gnarled hand over his heart, her eyes burning into his. "Do you speak the truth?"
Reyes clenched his hands as he stared at the witch who had cursed his father. "My words are true," he replied. "I have not defiled Shanara, nor will I."
The earth seemed to hold its breath as Melena stared into his eyes. The horses stood quiet. The birds stilled their songs.
Melena withdrew her hand from Reyes's chest. "It is as he said," she admitted reluctantly. "The girl is as yet untouched."
Montiori's hand tightened on the hilt of his sword. "So it ends," he said, and drew back his arm.
"No!" Shanara's cry rent the stillness that hung in the air. She ran toward Reyes as though her feet had wings, throwing herself between her husband and her father. "You will not hurt him!" she cried. "You will not!"
"Get out of my way," Montiori demanded, his face mottled with rage. "Get out of my way or you will be the first to die!"
Shanara lifted her head, exposing her throat. "Then strike me down. I will not live in a world without him."
Grasping Shanara by the shoulder, Reyes thrust her behind him. "This is between you and me, Montiori. She has nothing to do with it."
"Indeed." Montiori lowered his sword. "Long have I waited to add your pelt to that of your father's. Assume the guise of the wolf now, and I will spare the girl's life."
"Reyes, no!"
"Be still, daughter!" Montiori said.
"First let Shanara return to the keep," Reyes said, an unwanted note of pleading in his voice. "It is hers now, by right of marriage."
With a shake of his head, Montiori laid his sword against Reyes's throat once more. "The girl is mine." He grabbed Shanara by the arm and pushed her toward one of his men. "You have nothing to bargain with, Reyes, only the choice to die as a wolf or as a man."
"Or not at all." The words, softly spoken, were uttered by Melena. With a wave of her hand, the witch conjured a sword from midair and tossed it to Reyes.
Taking a step backward, Reyes caught the sword by the hilt, his gaze never leaving Montiori's face.
Montiori stared at Melena. "Traitor!" he hissed, then, without warning, he lunged toward Reyes.
Shanara ceased struggling against the man who held her, all her attention now centered on the two men crossing swords. It was a strange battle. Considering the fact that her father was attired like a king and Reyes was startlingly nude, it might have appeared comical had it not been so deadly serious.
The clang of metal striking metal filled the air, obscene in the stillness that had settled around them. Her father fought like a fury, the love of battle shining in his eyes as he drew first blood. Confident of victory, he pressed his attack again and again.
Reyes parried every thrust, his movements smooth and unhurried, his rage fueled by the blood oozing from the gash in his arm. For this moment, there was nothing else in all the world but his opponent. It didn't matter that Montiori was Shanara's father, or that Shanara was watching him, her hand pressed to her heart. Nothing mattered but avenging his father's death. It was fitting, somehow, that Montiori had come to battle wearing the cloak lined with the thick black pelt that had belonged to Reyes's father.
With a cry, Reyes carried the attack to Montiori. His blade slashed through the air, slicing Montiori's left arm open to the bone. He struck again and yet again, his sword opening wounds in Montiori's right thigh and side.
Panting heavily, both men fell back.Montiori staggered toward his daughter and then, to the surprise of all who watched, he grabbed her by the hair and laid the edge of his blade against her throat.
Montiori sneered at Reyes. "You will surrender," he said. "You will lay down your sword now, or she dies."
Without hesitation, Reyes tossed his weapon aside.
A low murmur of disapproval ran through Montiori's army.
A muffled oath emerged from Melena's lips.
Reyes ignored them all. He had eyes only for Shanara.
Smiling triumphantly, Montiori flung Shanara aside. He strutted toward Reyes, then raised his sword in both hands, prepared to strike.
Reyes kept his eyes fixed on Shanara, determined that her face would be the last thing he saw in life.
But the blade did not fall.
Puzzled, Reyes darted a quick glance at his executioner. Montiori stumbled backward, the sword falling from his hands. Blood bubbled from his nose and mouth and then, with a strangled cry, he pitched forward and lay still.
Shanara threw her arms around Reyes's neck, her words incoherent as she showered him with kisses.
"What happened?" Reyes asked, surprised to find himself alive and his enemy dead.
Shanara shook her head, then kissed him again.
Reyes put his arm around her and drew her to his side as Melena made her way toward them.
"Why?" he asked the witch. "Why did you not let Montiori kill me?"
"Because Shanara loves you," the old crone said. "And because I love Shanara." Melena pointed a gnarled finger at Reyes, her dark eyes glittering. "Be good to my girl else a worse fate come upon you than the one you had."
"Had?" Reyes asked, frowning.
"Aye. Shanara's love for you has broken the curse. But beware, Reyes, I will be watching how you treat her."
Reyes smiled at his bride, then looked back at Melena. "Have no fear, old mother. I will spend the rest of my life making Shanara happy, starting now."
And so saying, he swung his bride into his arms and carried her home.
EPILOGUE
Reyes sat on the edge of the bed, watching as his wife slowly disrobed. A month had passed since Montiori's death. For a time, he had regretted the fact that Melena had killed Montiori, thereby robbing Reyes of his chance to avenge his father's death. Later, he realized the witch had done him a favor he could never repay. Though he knew Shanara would have forgiven him had he killed her father, he was grateful that her father's blood was not on his hands, that his death did not stand between them.
Much had happened since then. Montiori's eldest son had assumed leadership of the Montiori clan and there was now peace between their people.
Melena had foretold that Shanara would bear Reyes twin sons within the year. To that end, the witch had moved into Black Dragon Keep to be near the infants and to care for Shanara after the birth.
Reyes felt his breath catch in his throat as Shanara removed the last of her undergarments to stand gloriously naked before him. How beautiful she was, with her hair falling over her shoulders and the lamplight bathing her face with a soft golden glow.
Murmuring her name, he drew her into his lap. "Are you happy here, with me, my beloved?"
She kissed the tip of his nose. "Need you ask, my lord?"
"Indeed, I must. I dare not take a chance on angering Melena. Who knows what evil might befall me should she find you looking displeased?"
Shanara smiled at him, her eyes twinkling. "Then perhaps you should do this." Her hand caressed his chest. "Or this." She kissed the corner of his mouth. "Or this…" Her hand slid down his naked belly, eliciting a groan of pleasure from his lips.
"You have but to command, my lady," he said. And capturing her lips with his, he drew her down on the bed and did his best to make his wife happy that night, and every night for as long as they lived.