Black Ram Douglass men used the ancient border trick for sneaking undetected upon a castle they covered themselves with cowhides.

By the time the violet fingers of dawn turned the sky an ominous dull pink, panic had set in at Doon. How in the name of all that was holy were the Kennedy brothers to explain their possession of hundreds of cattle and sheep that belonged to their neighbors, to say nothing of their Kennedy chiefs horses and Argylls prize bulls?

The scene at Douglas was as different as chalk from cheese. Though the promised storm was gathering by late afternoon, a holiday atmosphere prevailed. By way of celebration for a most successful and satisfying week, the Douglases had invited the Gypsies to their castle to entertain them till dawn.

With his wolfhound at his heels, Ramsay Douglas cantered Ruffian out to the meadow where he had hidden the beautiful new mare. When they came within half a mile, the stallions nostrils began to quiver as he scented the female he would serve. Ram had not used him on the raids because a horse that stood nineteen hands high was instantly recognized. As a result, he was difficult and mettlesome. Ram removed his bridle, then sent him thundering into the meadow with a slap across his rump. He secured the tall gate and stood for a few minutes watching the biplay of the two magnificent animals. Tonight every Douglas celebrates, he called into the wind. Wear off some o that energy that makes ye so damned bad-tempered. He laughed as the mare kicked up her heels and raced about the meadow as if the demon of darkness were after her. Ruffian took up the relentless pursuit, teeth bared and eyes rolling. I think yeve met yer match. By morning, shell have ye quivering on yer legs, man.

By the time Ram and Boozer walked back to the castle, the Gypsies were setting up their wares in the bailey.

The great wolfhound scattered a troupe of trained miniature dogs, then started nipping at the heels of their Welsh ponies until all was pandemonium. With a quiet word Ram brought the wolfhound back to his side and took him upstairs to his chamber. While he bathed and changed into doeskin breeches and linen shirt, the dog rolled on his back in a disgraceful display of love and affection. Ram ruffled the shaggy pewter head. Yer a fraud Ye think yer quite a perilous character, and ye expect me tae keep yer secret. The great wolfhound was such a contradiction. Capable of tearing the throat from a man, a soft word from Ram turned him to jelly.

Dont worryIll keep yer reputation intact, he promised as he reflected whimsically on whether the dog had taken on his own personality. Hed never know, for there was none to give him a soft word The Gypsies set up their wares on colored blankets both outside in the bailey and in the great hall. They sold and bartered everything from tawdry paper flowers to knives of finest Toledo steel. They had the knack of being vivid, dramatic, and exotic, and their displays cleverly appealed to all tastes and all ages.

The children were attracted by the straw dolls and tin whistles, the women by the ribbons, beads, and love potions, the men by the leather belts, knives, and luck charms set into amulets. Their love of life and zest for living were infectious. They made their own music with fiddle, tambourine, and lute, which fired the blood and inspired both men and women to set their feet to dancing. Whenever the Gypsies entertained, it was guaranteed the very air would be charged with excitement and laughter.

Ramsay sent the servants scurrying to the cellar for barrels of ale and kegs of whisky, sniffing the air with appreciation. Kennedy lamb and Hamilton beef smell better than our own when spitted and roasting, he told a grinning Gavin. Lets bring down old Malcolm, Ram suggested.

The mad laird? asked Colin with disapproval. Hes better off in bed.

The hell he is! disagreed Ram. Hes condemned tae that bed fer the rest of his life now his legs are gone. Gavin man, fetch that chair we fixed wheels on last year, an Ill carry him down.

Tis not just his legs are gonehes a ravin lunatic. Twould no be kind.

Ram understood how sensitive Colin was because of his own affliction, but he overruled him. Twould no be kind tae exclude him like a bloody leper!

He wont thank ye. He never had a kind word for anybody in his life, even before he went off it, said Cameron.

He takes his pleasure by cursing everything and everybody, but I know for a fact he wouldna be a Douglas if he didna enjoy the whisky and the Gypsy dancers. Maybe Ill buy one of the wenches fer his bed tonight, said Ram.

Maybe yell buy one fer the cripple while yer at it, flared Colin. We all know Black Ram Douglas never had tae pay fer a woman in his life, he sneered.

Gavin arrived with the old wooden chair. What the hells burnin yer arse? he asked Colin.

Flames about this high, taunted Cameron, holding his hand a scant two feet from the floor.

Colin relented. I suppose I felt sorry fer myself all week, missin the sport.

Ram thumped his shoulder. Theres nothing tae stop ye tonight, man. Theres everything from a cockfight tae a knife-throwing contest. Ian, ride down tae Douglas village and tell everyone theyre invitednot just the lasses, mind. Drummond, tell all the kitchen wenches they can have the night off. Ill go and fetch Mad Malcolm from his tower room.

There wasnt a woman at Douglas who didnt look forward to having her fortune told; there wasnt a man who didnt anticipate the late hour when any woman with a shred of respectability retired from the bacchanalia of the hall and the dusky-skinned Gypsy girls danced naked.

Two slim Gypsy youths were performing acrobatic feats on the backs of half a dozen white ponies while the little dogs with ruffs around their necks ran in and out of the riders legs. Ram was drawn to them. He was dying to try his own skills. He recalled hed wasted many an hour of his own youth practicing such daring feats of dexterity.

His moss-troopers egged him on, challenging him to duplicate the supple acrobatic leaps of the young Gypsies.

When they wagered their silver that he would come a cropper and fall off in less than a minute, he had to prove them wrong. He selected his pony carefully, choosing one that was not on too short a rein. He knew that man and beast must not be mismatched. His eye soon singled out the animal with the steadiest rhythm, and vaulting onto its back, he rode astride for a few moments to accustom himself to its gait. Slowly he pulled up his feet until his palms and his soles rested on its broad back; then finally he stood tall with his arms stretched out to the sides and rode with ease, circling the bailey.

The cheers that went up were deafening, not only from his own men but from all the people of Douglas and from the Gypsies themselves. Ram chuckled to himself.

There was nothing to it really. It was simply a matter of agility and balance. The trick of course was to summon enough courage to try it. He vaulted to the ground and back up again, then he did the same on the ponys other side. He reflected that here was the secret of success in any venture, whether it was a small cattle raid or a war battle: the courage to take a chance, while at the same time having confidence in your own ability to accomplish what you set out to do. It worked every time!

Men were setting up a target butt for the knife throwing when suddenly lightning flashed, thunder rolled, and large raindrops began to spatter the bailey. Everyone dashed inside to the great hall, laughing and jostling one another. The barrels of ale were rolled inside, and six men lifted the heavy wooden butt theyd set up for the knives and carried it indoors. It put an effective stop to the cockfights, but the whole troupe of trained dogs ran inside with the throng, sniffing around the sizzling spits and initiating the legs of the stools.

At first, Mad Malcolm brandished a wicked-looking walking stick at any who approached his chair, but Colin kept his leather horn filled with whisky, and eventually the old laird was seen tapping on the flagstones, keeping time with the music.

Occasionally tempers flared over possession of a castle wench or a Gypsy girl, but the high spirits of the men prevented the scuffles from degenerating into full-scale brawls. Gavin Douglas couldnt keep his eyes off a beautiful young Gypsy until he noticed with annoyance that Jenna was flirting outrageously with an extremely well-favored Gypsy male. When the knife-throwing contest began, she urged the Gypsy to show off his skills and tossed her tawny head when she saw Gavin was watching her. The men of Douglas and their moss- troopers were trained in the expert use of many different weapons from swords and dirks, bills and spears, to hagbuts and longbows. The Gypsies, however, used only knives and were highly profficient, so there was no shortage of contestants who lined up to pit their skills against the Gypsies.

Not a single contestant from either side missed the target, and there were quite a few men of Douglas who had no trouble hitting the bulls eye with the same regularity as the Gypsy men. But when the ringed target was removed and replaced by one with small red stars forming intricate patterns, the ranks soon thinned.

Heath had a matching set of eight balanced silver knives that he used on these festive occasions when they earned money entertaining the nobility. Gavin Douglas was determined to match the Gypsys skills and gathered knives from the moss-troopers. Because he had to prove himself to both the beautiful young Gypsy girl and to Jenna, his performance matched Heaths, and he hit every single red star. He was gratified by the deafening cheers of the men, who all seemed to be pulling for him.

Heath flashed his white teeth in a good-natured grin and held out his hand to the audience. The beautiful young Gypsy girl stepped forward without hesitation, and Heath positioned her before the target, her head high, her arms and legs spread wide. It was an act the couple had performed many times.

Every breath was caught and held as Heath took the first dagger blade in his hand, pointed the hilt toward the unflinching girl, and let it fly through the air. It thunked into the wooden target three inches from her left ear. The crowd gasped as another knife found its mark three inches from her right ear. The next two knifeblades struck the target between the spread fingers of her small brown hands, and the crowd broke into applause. The knives that struck either side of her waist were an inch closer to her body than the others had been, and the crowd roared its approval. The seventh dagger entered between her legs, pinning the scarlet material of her skirt to the target. The knifes haft protruded from between the girls legs like a suggestive phallic symbol, and every male watching achieved an erection. The climax of the performance followed quickly. As Heaths final knife left his fingers, his beautiful target bent double from the waist and the wide eyes of the audience saw that the last dagger had entered the target exactly where her heart had been.

Tension filled the air as all eyes swung to Gavin Douglas, but before he could take up the challenge, the beautiful young Gypsy girl held up her hands, laughing prettily, but refusing to be the target for the handsome young Scot. Gavin grinned good-naturedly, extremely relieved that the challenge was over. Jenna touched his shoulder. Ill be your target, Gavin, she offered bravely.

He looked down into her clear green eyes and wondered what in the name of God hed found attractive about the young Gypsy girl. Sweetheart, I canna let ye do that, but Ive other weapons I wouldna mind testing.

As Gavin slipped his arm about Jenna, he cast Heath a look of triumph, feeling he had definitely taken the prize even though hed lost the contest.

Ramsay Douglas stepped forward to take up the challenge. His pewter eyes glittered coldly as they fixed upon Heaths darkly handsome face. Ill use your knives since theyre perfectly balanced, his deep voice said decisively.

Heaths warm brown eyes crinkled at the corners as he accepted the challenge. He gestured toward the fine silver-handled weapons. Be my guest, if you can find anyone brave enough to be your human target.

Theres someone here with enough courage, Ram said calmly.

Who? Heath asked with a smile, as no one stepped forward. You, Ram said simply.

The smile left Heaths face as the men took each others measure like two dogs with their hackles raised. Heath was aware of Black Ram Douglass other nickname, Hotspur, that sprang from his volatile temper and low boiling point. In these parts he enjoyed a larger-than-life reputation for breaking womens hearts and mens jaws, but Heath looked beneath the surface, realizing this man was intense, complex, and intelligent as well as strong and poised for an eruption. Apart from this, there was an unknown quality about him. Gypsies were hot- blooded and admitted it freely; Heath wondered if Ram Douglas was the same, or if he was cold-blooded. He was about to find out.

With a nonchalant bravado he did not quite feel, he handed over the knives and stepped in front of the wooden target. Douglas picked up the first knife and fixed the Gypsy with a piercing look. The weapon was an age in coming, and Heath realized it would be a battle of nerves. Douglas was testing him to try to learn his breaking point. Heath was puzzled. He knew this level of rivalry between two men was only ever about a woman, yet he was almost sure that woman was not Zara. Douglas had too fine an intelligence and was too blood-proud to be jealous of a Gypsy harlot.

Heath did not flinch as the first two knives thunked into the wood beside his ears; he knew Douglas had enough confidence in his own ability to stretch the game to its limits. Heath realized it would be the last two daggers he must worry about, but he was relieved to find he still had all his fingers after the second pair was thrown.

The third set of daggers came so close to his body, they nicked his shirt at the beltline. It was a clear reminder that Douglas had him at his mercy. Heaths mouth went dry as he thought about the next knife. This hostility between them was definitely a cock-and-balls thing.

Heath prayed that Ram Douglass pride was stronger than his acrimony. How easy it would be to emasculate him, then claim it was accidentalbut then, all would think his prowess with a knife somewhat inferior.

Heath wanted to flash him an insolent devil-may-care sneer, but his lips seemed to stick to his teeth. It was Rams mouth that curved into a wolfs grin as the dagger left his fingers and embedded itself snugly against Heaths balls, bruising them deliberately.

So far, Douglas had won and both men knew it. But they were more alike than either knew. Built into both were seeds of self-destruction. The whole point of the challenge came down to the last knife, yet the conclusion was far from inevitable At that moment it was as if they stood aloneno other beings existed in the entire universe. Each man had a decision he must make regarding his enemy.

Heath asked himself if Ram would aim for the heart or throw the knife above his head. Ram asked himself if the Gypsy would drop the top half of his body or defy him by remaining erect.

Their eyes locked together for endless minutes as each man made his fatal choice. Heath found suddenly that he could smile As he did so, his head lifted with pride. At the last split second the Black Ram knew the Gypsy would not move a muscle. The dagger parted the Gypsys hair, cutting off a lock and pinning it to the wood behind him.

A great roar of approval went up from the clan and the moss-troopers, showing that they believed Douglas the clear victor. But Ram and the Gypsy male knew otherwise. Both knew who had given way at the last moment. And yet it was a moral victory for Ram Douglas. He alone knew he had not given in to the bloodlust that would have branded him a coward in his own eyes.

As the night progressed, the noise level increased. The music came louder and faster. The shrieking laughter, stamping feet, and barking dogs made it necessary to shout every word. The amount of food and drink consumed would have fed an army for a week, and the entire castle rang with the unrestrained mirth of men and women who knew how to abandon themselves to the moment.

The spirit of Damaris was extremely restless. At first she kept to her chamber, but the laughter and the Gypsy music finally lured her to the hall. As she surveyed the celebration, she reflected how shocked she would have been at such abandoned behavior when she first came to Douglas, but after roaming the castle for fifteen years, she understood and accepted that they had a hungry zest for life. She sighed. Twas what had attracted her to Alexander in the first place. Ramsay had a love for music and a passion for heroic literature that he kept hidden. He was so like her dead husband, it frightened her. They were both so dour, grave and curt on the surface, but underneath they loved colorful spectacle and had a distinct flair for extremes. She watched one or two Gypsy women laying out tarot cards and listened as they told fortunes. Damaris smiled sadly. All that the young girls seemed interested in was snaring a man.

Had she been like that? Once she had laid eyes on Alex Douglas, she admitted, he was all she had ever thought about. She had grown up amongst a clan of redheads and garnered a lot of attention because she had silken blond hair and not a freckle in sight. Alexander Douglas had been the darkest man shed ever seen. So dark, it gave her shivers just picturing him. He had seemed just as wildly attracted to her paleness. How ridiculous to choose a lifetime mate on the basis of coloring! And yet when you thought about it, vivid coloring was what made certain individuals stand out from the crowd. It was the first thing you noticed about them. There were millions of ordinary drab people, and then nature would produce someone so darkly beautiful, they looked sinful. Someone with the opposite coloring like herself, with milk-white skin and silvery-gilt hair, looked pure and angelic. Then there were vivid creatures like her niece Valentina, with startling golden eyes and a mass of molten, flaming hair at which a man wanted to warm his hands. She and Alexander had been fatally attracted, and the day Tina came to Douglas, she had feared the same thing would happen between her and Ram.

Fortunately, sparks of hatred had been kindled, so she need never worry on that score.

The specter of Alexander watched her from the shadows of a deep window embrasure. How ethereal she looked! His heart ached with longing as he remembered the first night they had shared a bed. Her limbs, so exquisitely pale, contrasted shockingly against his swarthy black-haired legs and chest. It had seemed a desecration to join their bodies, to mate, almost like a devil ravishing an angel, and yet their wild attraction for each other had aroused them to such need, such peaks of desire, he knew he must wed her so they could share a bed every night for the rest of their lives.

Alexander could not help himself. He drew near to his love. Damaris, he breathed.

Her apparition began to fade, then was gone.

Damaris! he called urgently, but he knew it was quite pointless. She would never acknowledge his presence.

Old Meg the Gypsy, however, said, Who is there? What do you want?

Im Alexander Douglas! Can ye see me? Can ye hear me? he demanded.

The old woman stood up and put out a gnarled hand, feeling the texture of the air about her.

Ye canna see or hear me, but ye can sense me, cant you? God, if only I could communicate with ye. Damaris is ma wife. I didna kill her! Come with meIll show ye her portrait.

Old Megs eyes swept around the hall searching for something. She did not quite know what she sought.

She closed her eyes and let her other senses, including her sixth sense, have full rein. She circled the hall slowly, her shrewd eyes missing very little. She paused beside Mad Malcolm. He brandished his stick. Filthy Gypsyaway wi ye!

Old Meg recoiled, not at his words but at the evil she felt surrounding him. Something from the long-dead past stirred in her memory. Shed had an unwitting hand in a poisoning here at Douglas. At the time she had put it from her mindshe had no reason to waste her pity on a Kennedy. She had a nodding acquaintance with evil.

Shed been exchanging poison for obscene amounts of silver for years. She lived by the Gypsy code of no guilt.

Colin Douglas refilled Malcolms drinking horn and cast Meg a helpless apologetic look, then he tapped his fingers to his temple in the age-old sign that conveyed madness. Meg stalked off. She was in a mood to prowl about a bit. Alexander stood at her shoulder at the bottom of the staircase. He tried to will her up the steps but learned that her willpower was every bit as strong as his own. Discouraged, he withdrew up the staircase.

Old Meg followed Alexander halted outside his wifes chamber. Ever since his death, he had never entered, never violated her sanctuary. Meg, it seemed, had no such scruples. Her gnarled hand turned the doorknob, and she went inside and stood transfixed before the painting of Damaris.

Alexander said, The portrait-limner did a credible job, but she was beautiful on the inside as well.

Get out!

Alexander whirled about, joy radiating from him like the rays of the sun. Damarisye can see me. Fifteen years yeve looked through me, but I never gave up!

Fifteen years should have conveyed how I feel, you pigheaded spawn of the Devil!

His eyes shone with happiness. Yer angry wi me.

Angry? Theres the understatement of the century! I hate you, I loathe you, I detest you, I abhor you!

I love ye, Damaris, he declared.

I curse you! she vowed, then vanished.

Old Meg reached up her fingers to touch the girl in the portrait. She could feel the very air in this chamber was charged with emotions, all conflicting. The memory came back clearly now. So this was the Kennedy girl who had wed a Douglasan explosive, deadly combination. Both clans were insufferably blood-proud.

Dont touch that portrait, or all hell will break loose, ordered a deep voice of authority.

Old Meg turned to see an angry Ram Douglas. Zara hovered in the corridor, assuming Meg had been caught stealing.

A double murder will leave its imprint until justice prevails, Meg said.

Twas a murder-suicide. They got justice. The bitch was unfaithful. Alex Douglas killed himself before the Kennedys could get their vengeful hands on him. Get downstairs before I hang ye fer theft.

Her lip curled with contempt. As if it were yesterday, she recalled selling the poison to this man who stood before her so arrogantly. He had been a wild and willful youth of only about sixteen, but shortly thereafter Lord Alexander Douglas lay dead and the Black Ram was the new lord and master. Have a care for yourself, Ramsay Douglas. Visitants from the other side have such power, they could strike you down for the lies you perpetrate.

Ram laughed derisively. Go on, call up the deadcommand them to materialize. Yer supernatural powers underwhelm me, old woman!

I claim no supernatural power, but I do have the second sight. Her eyes flickered beyond the door toward Zara.

Debauch yourself while theres darkness left. Tis the last time youll be permitted to waste your seed.

Her implication was marriage or death, and he wasnt sure he didnt prefer the latter If yer hinting at my being leg shackled, yer second sight is playing tricks on ye, old woman. Tis yer own shackles ye can see when I lock ye up. Begone from this place, while yeve breath left in yer body.

Megs eyelids covered the windows of her soul. It was not politic to threaten this man. He would not cavil at one more murder.

Chapter 10.

Ram Douglas could not close his eyes even long after hed sated himself. Zara slept beside him, curled into a ball like a sleek cat replete with a fortnights ration of cream inside her. He smiled grimly into the darkness.

The mere hint of a suggestion of marriage had robbed him of sleep. Deny it as much as he liked, the truth was he was a coward with no guts for marriage.

Wedding bells were the death knell for love Love was a myth in itself, perpetrated by females and poets. Hed never seen a happy union in his life. Lord Alexander Douglas and Lady Damaris Kennedy had had everything going for them. Their union had joined two of Scotlands greatest clans. Not only that, but both of their great-grandfathers had married daughters of King Robert III, so their marriage linked them with the royal house. How long had it lastedtwelve days? A fortnight?

His mind strayed to his mother and father. There was a union made in hell Theyd lived at the top of their lungs, not caring if the whole world knew of their savage exchanges How many nights had he comforted Gavin and Cameron as they crawled into his bed shaking? His mother was a Ramsay, giving as good as she got Threats, fights, recriminations, betrayals, beatings. He had been ten when she left. Shed taught him the hypocrisy of the sanctity of marriage.

His relentless mind moved on. The biggest sham in Scotland was their kings marriage. James IV had a weakness for women, and Scotland thanked God for it.

His father had been a raving homosexual who had failed to keep his minions in his bedchamber but allowed them in the council chamber. His ruling chiefs could not stomach such a thing; sodomy was not a Scots vice.

Archibald Douglas, Earl of Angus, had led the men who had dragged the kings catamites out and hanged them.

Rams thoughts shied away from examining his uncle too closely and returned to the kings marriage. James had avoided the matrimonial trap until he was thirty, then for the weal of the realm and to beget heirs, hed been persuaded to wed fourteen-year-old Margaret Tudor, Princess of England.