Chapter 1

She was walking through the woods, her long flaming hair soaken with the rain. She strolled on with a bouquet of wild lilac in her right hand, her gown a dark blue, which brought out the blueness in her eyes. She stopped and leaned on a tall oak tree to catch her breath. He saw the wolf skulking up in behind her, and he tried to cry out to her to watch out, but no sound came out. The next moment the wolf pounced upon it's unsuspecting prey and it was too late. She was gone.

Nick woke up with sweat poring from every corner of his body. It was only a dream, a horrible nightmare. But even then, the savage fate of that wild beauty made him flinch and wince, and tears came to his eyes. She had looked so young, so damned young. He'd been having this same dream for months now, and he was starting to really be frightened of it. Was it a warning or a prediction of something that woman happen, or something that had already happened that he'd had a link to? He had no idea. But this had to stop, and soon.

*
He was arguing with a beautiful blond girl. He had tears in his eyes and he was pointing a finger out the door. The girl marched right out with her dog, without looking back. The young man put his head in his hands and started to cry. She saw herself standing beside him, and she put a comforting arm around him. Nothing happened. He didn't respond, just kept on crying.

Lady Johanna de Galtres woke up to feel the slickness of sweat upon her body. She remembered the dream so vividly that she wanted to weep for the pain that the young man must have felt. She could feel her heart breaking inside her. She'd been having this dream for weeks. She had no idea why she was, just that it had to stop or she would go mad.

*
"Johanna!" Johanna's cousin, Claire de Monfort called from the next room. Johanna got up in a daze and went to see what her cousin needed this time. "What is it Claire?" Johanna asked tiredly as she sat beside her on the heather tick mattress. Claire looked up at her with a wary look in her eyes.

"It's torture time again, isn't it?" she asked softly. "Listen." she said.

Johanna stilled and listened. To her horror, she heard the now familiar cries of one of her little brothers being tortured by their father, Geoffrey de Galtres. This time it sounded like poor Richard was once more taking the blame for Hugh's actions. Johanna shook her head sadly. There was nothing she could do to save her brother from the monstrosity that was their father. Fortunately, Johanna was the daughter of Geoffrey's late wife the Lady Gwennelyn of Revelwood and her first husband, Daniel de Galienne. Geoffrey only kept Johanna around because she made the household seem more normal, as her acting the mother to her three younger half brothers.

Johanna was the third child of Gwennelyn and Daniel, and at seventeen was the youngest of the three. Her older brother and sister, Lord Roland de Galienne and Lady Julianna of Langlinais adored her and especially Roland was very protective of his baby sister. He desperately wanted to get her out of the Devil's trap that was Berwick, Geoffrey's wooden castle. Both her siblings were married, Roland to the beautiful golden haired Hope de Chateauroux and her sister to the dashing and brave Sebastian of Langlinais.

Claire was the daughter of Johanna's mother's half-sister, Lady Abigail of Artane and her husband, Lord Richard de Monfort. She had long pale red-gold hair like her grandmother had had, and silvery gray eyes that looked upon the world with innocence and vibrant enthusiasm. Both girls were horrified by what Johanna's stepfather was doing, but they could not stop him. So in protest, both girls left the castle secretly that very night, smuggling little Richard along with them and headed for Scotland, where the girls could pass of Scots because of their hair, and where they could live in freedom.

Bold and Brash, the girls finally reached the Lord Tavis Stuart's castle, and begged for sanctuary there under the names of Ariella MacKendrick and Flora MacGregor. They passed Richard off as Flora's younger brother, Ewan MacGregor. Throughout their stay there, Johanna's dreams became more and more frequent....she didn't know what to make of them, only that she knew that she must find the blond man, or she would go mad.

*
Nick walked down the lane in the small village in lower Scotland. He didn't know why he was there, only that he'd had a gut instinct that maybe the key to his dreams lay in that village. As he walked, he saw the cliff that loomed down over the ocean, and he could hear the tide breaking against the sheer rock. He went towards the sound, suddenly curious to see the view. As he came to the edge, he saw the ruins down on a clearing down below a by about 800 feet. He saw the old weathered stairs leading down to the ruins and took them down. The clearing that was bordered by the cliff had a closer view of the water, and it was spectacular.

As he walked closer to the ruins, he realized that this had once been an ancient castle, and was momentarily fazed as he looked around him. The huge stones were piled over in Domino style over the still intact foundation of strong mortared stone. But he noticed that three stones looked out of place, as if they were put there on purpose, and his blood chilled. Graves, he thought. He went over to the graves and looked down, reading the barely visible inscriptions. One read, Lady Ariella MacKendrick. Struck down by a vicious Norman knight when she was seventeen years old. Born January 28th, 1134, Died August 23rd, 1151. Nick's blood chilled further. Struck down by a knight? What had happened to courtly manners and chivalry? Obviously it had died out long before it had been suspected to have.

The second read, Lady Flora MacGregor. Struck down by a Norman knight when she was fifteen years old. Born February 14th, 1136, Died August 23rd, 1151. The third read Sir Ewan MacGregor. Struck down by a Norman knight when he was twelve years old. Born October 5th, 1139, Died August 23rd, 1151.

Nick's face turned ashen. All three struck down by a Norman knight on the same day? It had obviously not been a coincidence. And the victims had been so damned young....in his time, 17, 15 and 12 year olds were still being coddled by their families. What had happened to them? He walked back around the ruins, and suddenly stopped when he saw something odd. There standing inside the ruin of a once beautiful church was a statue of an extremely gorgeous young girl. She had long wavy hair, big eyes, a straight nose, a rosebud mouth, a nice figure and a statuesque frame.

He looked down by her feet and saw the inscription. 'The Lady Ariella MacKendrick nee de Galtres. She will live in our hearts forever.' "That's so weird." Nick said aloud. De Galtres was a Norman French last name. This girl had a Scots first name and a Norman French last name? It just didn't make sense. He looked back up into the stone girl's eyes and was astounded when he saw that they'd changed from slate gray to a vibrant sea foam green. The statue smiled at him as if she knew him and he heard the stone crack as the stone hand broke away from the body and took his hand in it.



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