Free Touch of Passion by Susan Spencer Paul Page A

mornings looking at fields of dead animals, they were well beyond pretending.
    â€œSomething wild, aye,” Kian agreed. “But it wasn’t any creature known to mortal men.”
    His tenants murmured quietly in agreement.
    Horas glanced at Kian and gave a single nod. “Is it Cadmaran, then, do you think?”
    The question was asked so casually that anyone who didn’t know the history between the Cadmaran and Seymour families might not understand the meaning behind it. But that wasn’t the case with all those who were present. They fell silent and waited to hear whether Kian would make a public declaration of his belief in his distant neighbor’s guilt.
    Morcar Cadmaran, the Earl of Llew, was, like Lord Graymar, both an extraordinary wizard and the powerful head of an ancient magical family. Unlike Lord Graymar, Cadmaran practiced dark magic. Evil magic. Magic like the kind that had caused the mayhem and death strewn out on the field before Kian. It wouldn’t be the first time that a Cadmaran had visited such destruction on a Seymour.
    The two families had been at odds for centuries, contending over which should wield the greater authority over the other magical clans. Thus far the Seymours had maintained the place of most power, but only, the Cadmarans claimed, bycheating at every given opportunity. The charge had enraged past generations of Seymours, who found it to be entirely unjust, and a mutual enmity had been birthed between the two families. There had been arguments, volatile encounters, even battles fought over which family had suffered the greater insult. In time, the Seymours had simply begun to ignore the ridiculous feud, but the Cadmarans found it impossible to set aside. Indeed, the current Earl of Llew seemed determined to carry on the unpleasantness at all costs.
    Morcar Cadmaran believed that the Seymours had done everything possible to ruin him. They had even denied him the woman whom he had chosen for his wife, Ceridwen Seymour, a gifted sorceress with whom Morcar believed he would be able to produce wildly powerful offspring. He had been thwarted in his attempts to secure her hand by Malachi, who had allowed her to marry the man of her choice, a mere mortal. It had been the final straw in what the Earl of Llew saw as an endless string of misdeeds. He wanted to topple the Seymours from their place of power; and the best way to do that was to destroy their head, the Earl of Graymar.
    There was only one acceptable way among their kind to bring down one who had been recognized as the
Dewin Mawr
, and that was through a duel of powers, properly challenged and properly accepted, according to the rules laid down ages past by the Guardians. But Morcar hadn’t been able to force such a duel, because Malachi continuously found ways to avoid meeting him face-to-face, a fact the Earl of Llew found endlessly frustrating. Yet he determinedly kept trying to lure Malachi out into the open. The troubles that had been plaguing Tylluan of late were, Kian believed, evidence of such efforts. Cadmaran knew that if Kian couldn’t find a way to stop the attacks on his lands, he would eventually have to send for the
Dewin Mawr’s
aid. And then the Earl of Graymar would be in North Wales and that much closer to the Earl of Llew’s lair.
    Unfortunately, Kian had no proof that Cadmaran was behind the attacks, and he wasn’t going to make his suspicionspublic. Such an open assertion of blame was, among their kind, akin to a declaration of war. He would have to tread carefully until he knew better what was going on and whether Lord Llew was truly involved.
    In the meantime, Kian had to pacify his tenants’ desire for action.
    â€œWhat I think,” he said clearly, “is that someone from Tylluan should visit
Fynnon Elian
as soon as possible to see whether a curse has been set upon us and, if so, pay the fine to have it lifted.”
    This suggestion met with loud approval