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    Hawthorn and Mistletoe: Timeless Quest
    Hawthorn and Mistletoe: Timeless Quest
    Hawthorn and Mistletoe: Timeless Quest
    Ebook93 pages56 minutes

    Hawthorn and Mistletoe: Timeless Quest

    By C. Marie Bowen

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Immortal Jurian Locke is haunted by ancient memories as he walks the road toward London to enter King Edward's last tournament of the season. Cursed by a jealous enchantress in distant times, Jurian is bound to await his soul mate's rebirth and respond to her need in times of danger.

    Lady Elena Gregory blames her lame leg for her lack of suitors. As the Earl of Hawthorn's only daughter, she has received only two unacceptable marriage proposals. Somehow, she must appear less damaged and more desirable at the Yule tournament. No easy task when the simple act of crossing a broken field is almost more than she can accomplish.

    In a time when acts of valor and chivalry are rewarded, can a simple man-at-arms hope to gain enough favor to be deemed worthy of an Earl's daughter, and the only woman he can ever love.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPixler Publications
    Release dateJun 21, 2016
    ISBN9781945215001
    Hawthorn and Mistletoe: Timeless Quest
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    Author

    C. Marie Bowen

    Not your ordinary paranormal romance. Discover nail-biting suspense with award winning author, C. (Connie) Marie Bowen. She weaves her supernatural characters into a collection of tales linked to her first award-winning novel, Passage, the first book in her Soul of the Witch trilogy. Passage won First Place in the Paranormal Romance category in Indiana's Golden Opportunity competition in 2014. In 2015, her novels Passage and Prophecy were nominated for RONE awards in the Time Travel and Paranormal categories, respectively. Aubrielle’s Call released in August 2016. A historical, paranormal romance that takes readers to France in 1939, on the very brink of World War II. Aubrielle’s Call ties to her Soul of the Witch world and her fans love the connection. After the much anticipated release of Paradox, Connie intends to release Amy and Jason’s love story in a Soul of the Witch prequel, Burn. Also look for her immortal, J.L. to appear in an upcoming pirate anthology. Visit her website: CMarieBowen.com to learn more.

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      Book preview

      Hawthorn and Mistletoe - C. Marie Bowen

      Dedication

      ––––––––

      This one is for Kyle.

      Chapter 1

      Jurian Locke

      Well after sunset, Jurian Locke left the empty road to London and slipped into the dark forest. Near enough to hear movement along the road, yet distant enough to go unnoticed by any passerby, he lowered the bag from his shoulder and unbuckled the scabbard and sword from his back. After a long pull on his water skin, he wrapped his cloak around his shoulders and eased himself to the ground. His broad back rested against a sturdy tree while his mind sought ease in the moon’s reflection in the Thames.

      It was the end of the year 1328, and he received the chill, but dry December night as a Yule blessing from Odin. Perhaps the dry weather would hold for King Edward’s Christmas Tournament and feast at Westminster two days hence. The retinues from several noble households, eager to demonstrate their strength before the young king’s court, had passed by him earlier in the day.

      Jurian tipped his head back, closed his eyes and listened to the river gurgle its way toward London. He planned to enter the lists as a man-at-arms and perhaps win a purse at one or two of the competitions. Even though most mercenaries hoped to take service with a noble house during the tournament, Jurian had neither the expectation nor the desire to be bound in service. He’d already been bonded by love and magic to Agaria sim Biraci nearly 1400 years ago.

      Although centuries had passed, the memory of that night refused to fade. Despite his father’s wish for him to take the Druidess Nescato as his mate, his passion for Agaria could not be forsworn.

      When Nescato had discovered Agaria in his arms, the Druidess had cursed them. Bitter with jealousy, she raised her bone staff, decorated with feathers and small skulls, pointed the stave at the couple, and evoked a curse that changed his life.

      For this deceit, I curse you to love only her for all eternity—in whatever form she is reborn. You will watch her die a thousand times, knowing your life goes on. Bound to her call, you will never rest in the slumber of death’s arms. Your torment shall be everlasting.

      Her head thrown back, Nescato had laughed as the wind whipped fallen leaves around her.

      Jurian startled awake from the dream of Nescato’s hate-filled eyes and gazed unseeing at the dark water until the sound of blade on blade and a warning shout drew his attention. Leaving his bag, he pulled his sword from its scabbard and came to his feet. The morning light filtered through the trees as he trampled over the forest brush and onto the road.

      A small group of men, their coat of arms covered, set upon an old man and attacked his servants.

      With a savage cry, Jurian moved forward and blocked the arc of the sword aimed to cleave the elderly man in half. Jurian’s size alone daunted men, but his battle cry froze the assailants in their tracks.

      The brigand blocked Jurian’s swing and fell back a step. Piecemeal leather armor and hauberk proclaimed the attacker a mercenary man-at-arms, like himself.

      Jurian swung again, and the sharp ring of metal filled the air. Leave off, or I will see you dead. He pushed the man away and advanced, prepared to strike again.

      The man blocked Jurian’s next blow and staggered back. Retreat, he called to the other assailants as he skirted around the carthorses. The group of thieves disappeared into the thick forest on the other side of the road.

      A young retainer helped the elderly man to his feet. Of the age to be a squire, the lad dusted dirt from the old man’s arm and wiped the filth from his hands onto his own chausses. He shoved fine brown hair from his face and tipped his head way back to look up at Jurian—mouth parted and eyes wide.

      The master patted the youth’s arm. I’m well, Maury, thanks to this brave man. The white-haired man stood tall and straight as he nodded to Jurian, but spoke to his lad. Where is Sir Reginald?

      Here.

      Jurian lowered his sword and followed the voice to the back of the wagon.

      The injured knight had pulled himself to the wheel of the cart. Blood covered his face, and he held his arm awkwardly against his body.

      They came at me from behind and knocked me from Zeus. Reginald grimaced with pain. I landed on my shoulder.

      Jurian dropped his sword beside the knight and knelt to inspect the wound on his head. They could have struck a killing blow from behind, had that been their intent. The cut to your scalp is wide but not deep.

      Your name, sir? Reginald asked with a nod to Jurian’s assessment.

      Jurian Locke.

      He saved me, Reggie, the older man affirmed. One of the brigands had me down. This man came from behind the trees and halted the blow.

      Jurian moved his inspection from Sir Reginald’s head to his shoulder. Your shoulder is disjointed from the fall.

      Aye.

      Did they take Zeus? Maury asked.

      They may have tried, Reginald replied as he watched Jurian examine his shoulder.

      Jurian’s gaze rose to meet Reginald’s. This joint must be set in place.

      Reginald nodded. Can you do it?

      I can, but you won’t like it.

      Not much about this ambush I do like. Set it.

      Jurian lifted Reginald’s elbow and rotated his arm to align the joint. With a quick jerk, the bone slid back into the socket.

      Reginald barked a cry of pain, then rested his bloody head against the wheel. Thank ye, Jurian Locke.

      Maury jumped from the cart with bandages as a rustling in the woods made Jurian reach for his blade.

      From the forest, came a white destrier, blood dripping from its mouth. The horse stopped near Reginald, lowered his head and bared his teeth at Jurian.

      Reginald lifted his good hand to the animal. Peace, Zeus. He’s a friend.

      The old man took the bandages from Maury and tipped his head to Jurian. Thank you for your aid, sir. I fear the brigands would have taken all and our lives. He held out his open hand. "My name is Sir Albert Clavel, an old knight who’s lived past

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