It’s the return of Medieval Monday, and I’m thrilled to be participating once again with this group of talented medieval authors!
I’m starting off with my own medieval story of Dragon Knight’s Medallion.
To right a wrong, two souls are brought together only to shatter when they are torn apart by the deeds of an evil druid.
Dragon Knight, Stephen MacKay’s powers are altered after the death of his sister. Now he is plagued with visions that threaten to destroy his soul. When Aileen Kerrigan falls through a time tunnel, he vows to keep her safe, despite the fact the beautiful but head-strong half-blooded fae could be the death of him.
When Aileen finds out her dad is a Fenian Warrior, she flees to a nearby ruin. Armed with the medallion her mother gave her, and a matching one belonging to a long dead knight, she is flung into the past and finds a handsome but surly warrior who is on a quest. Now it seems her future could be entwined with his, if she doesn’t kill him first.
Full shock registered inside her brain as she realized where she’d seen this man. Her body started to quake, and she clutched her hands to her chest.
“No, th…this cannot be,” she choked out. “Tell me who you are. I demand to know your name!”
Are all the fae so dumb and beautiful, he thought. “Ye ken who I am.” Stephen’s head caught a glimpse of the fae, as she started to take a few hesitant steps backwards. What the bloody hell was wrong with her? She was standing too close to the edge. If she was not careful, she would slip on over.
Why did he care? She could just vanish, right? Stephen rubbed his face, the remnants of a headache still behind his eyes. Sweet Bridget! Now the fae was yelling at him.
She waved her hands, all the time shaking her lovely head. “You are not him!”
He had to put a stop to this, or she would fall. Perhaps, she was a daft fae. He certainly did not know their ways, nor did he want to find out. However, this creature was becoming more agitated, and for some unfathomable reason, he did not want her to come to any harm.
“Och, fae healer, stop your babbling,” he dismounted with a groan.
“No, no, no!” Pointing a finger at him, she continued to walk backwards. Stumbling, her foot twisted among some tree roots, causing her to lose her balance.
Stephen swore as he lunged for her, grasping her arm and crushing her against his chest. “Are ye truly daft?”
My guest next week on Medieval Monday is author, Sandra Jones.