Reena rolled up the map. “I will not be trespassing.” She shoved the valuable parchment in the sack.
“What will you be doing if not trespassing?”
“I will be offering my skills as a mapmaker in exchange for protection of our village.”
Brigid shook her head. “What would he want with a mapmaker?”
“I have charted many areas with my father. When he sees my work, I am sure he will see how it could benefit him.”
“In exchange for protection? He will lead his army here in exchange for your mapmaking skills?” Brigid disagreed most vehemently. “I do not think so. He will want more than that.”
“I will negotiate with him.”
Brigid attempted to make her friend see reason. “Do you not remember your father’s tale? There is no negotiating with him. The man demands and no one dares defy him.”
“I do not intend to defy him. I will provide a good exchange for his services.”
“Mapmaking.”
Reena stuck her chin out. “Whatever it takes.”
Brigid’s mouth dropped open. “You cannot mean to offer yourself to him?”
Reena laughed softly. “Do you really think he would want the likes of me?” She held her arms out from her sides and turned slowly. “My body is so thin that I fear a gust of wind will pick me up and carry me away.”
“You are a stubborn one, you would demand the wind release you,” Brigid said on a gentle laugh. “And you underestimate your beauty.”
“I do not think so and I do not care about beauty. I care that the villagers starve and that you are in danger. Something must be done.”
“Your strength and courage always amazed me. If it had not been for your strong support, I would never have survived John’s death. And even now it takes strength to go do what you plan. If your father or mother knew of your intentions, they would never allow you to go.”
Reena reached out and grabbed her friend’s arm. “You will not tell them. My father believes that I go off to map, and he hopes—” She could not continue.
“He hopes you find a new home,” Brigid said. “Your father and I talk, and you would be wise to listen to him—there is nothing here.”
“There is everything here; there is family and friends, and I cannot turn my back on them. We need help, all of us, and we need it before winter sets in. You know as well as I do that there is not a sufficient food supply for everyone. Many will starve, many innocent children. I cannot have that.”
Reena slipped on a wool jacket and tucked her hair beneath a cap. “You must promise me that you will tell no one of this.”
“And if you do not return with help?”
“I will,” Reena said adamantly.
“How long should I wait before I begin to worry over your safe return? Though you have not yet left I worry already, dressed like a young lad.” Brigid shook her head.
“A young lad traveling on his own is less likely to be bothered than a young lass on her own. These garments afford me protection; they are my armor. Now as to your waiting, from my father’s descriptions and my own calculations I do not think I have to travel far. I would estimate that if I do not return in two weeks’ time that I am in trouble, in which case there is nothing you could do.”
“I will come search for you,” Brigid insisted. “You are my friend; I would not leave you to another’s mercy.”
“You will, for I will not have you hurt. I do this of my own free choice, and whatever befalls me is the consequence of my own decision. You must promise me that you will not come after me. You are needed here. Who will look after my parents? Who will help the other women with their sick and hungry babies? Promise me, Brigid, please. I need this promise from you.”
She hesitated. “I give you my promise reluctantly and because I know that your stubbornness will help you to succeed in an impossible task.”
Reena smiled and hugged her friend tightly, the thought of possibly never seeing her again a distant worry in her mind. She would do as she must and she would succeed. She had to, or many would perish.
She grabbed her sack, slipping her arm through the opening beneath the knot that held all the necessary items for her trip. “Fret not. I go off to continue my father’s most famous tale—I go to meet the Legend.”
Chapter 2
Reena stared at the line of trees in front of her. They looked like a row of soldiers guarding the woods behind them; one after the other they stood, their heavy branches resembling arms stretched out, ready to prevent intruders from passing. It was odd that they should grow in a perfect line, for in their oddity they intimidated. They actually looked ready to attack anyone who dared attempt to pass them.
Reena gave a little shiver. The weather had chilled in the last two days, and she was glad for the wool leggings, tunic, jacket and leather boots. That she resembled a young lad mattered not to her; that she remained warm mattered greatly. The change in weather reminded her how very important her journey was. She simply could not fail.
She studied the line of trees; if her father’s mappings were accurate, she was standing at the border of the Legend’s lands.
A sudden wind rushed around her, swirling up leaves on the ground and sending a stronger shiver through her. The sky was heavy with clouds, making the woods darker than usual for early afternoon and making her wonder at the wisdom of her decision. But there was no going back—she had to find help for her village, or many would die this coming winter.
That thought reinforced her courage. With her sack firmly in her grasp, she breathed a hefty sigh as she approached the line of soldier trees.
She almost expected the trees to march forward and forbid her entrance, but they remained stoic sentinels and allowed her to pass. She proceeded several feet, thinking the woods too dense to harbor any keep or cottage. How, then, did the Legend live? Her father had never spoken of seeing the Legend’s home, only his land.
Not allowing herself to grow discouraged, she moved on, climbing over large stones, fallen trees and bending down to pass through an arch of thorns. One thorn caught at her shoulder as if warning her not to go on, to turn back now, while she had the chance.
She did not heed the warning; she simply dislodged the thorn from her jacket and proceeded past bushes and saplings. Stepping out into a large meadow, she could see, with a squint of her eyes, a high stone wall in the distance.
“What do you want here?”
The deep voice so startled her that she jumped in fright, stumbled and fell, her backside hitting the ground hard.
With her elbows braced on the ground and her bottom throbbing, she stared up at a tall man who was so thick with muscles she wondered how he could move. And his face? She had to blink and look again. His face would win no heart, his nose appearing to have been broken more than once. Scars mapped his face and bald head in a mismatched fashion, and the corner of his lip looked to be missing, though Reena had to admit he had compelling eyes, soft blue like the sky on a perfect spring day. His clothes were clean and finely stitched, their colors dark. His boots were fine leather, and the only weapon he carried was a knife tucked in the scabbard attached to his belt.
“Are you deaf?” he asked loudly and pointed to his ear.
She shook her head and hurried to her feet, feeling much more confidence on them than on her bottom. At least she thought she would, but when she reached her full height of barely two inches past five feet she realized she did not even reach the man’s chest.
“What do you want?” he demanded.
If he could demand, then so could she. She was on a mission, and her fears would just have to be ignored. She spoke up. “I have come to speak with the Legend.”
The large man snickered, grinned and then broke into a fit of laughter.
“When you finish finding my request humorous I suggest you pay it heed, for I am not leaving here until I speak with him.”
The man stopped laughing and stared at her. “That sounds like a demand, and he
does not take well to demands.”
“I am here to barter for his services.”
The large man looked her over quickly and shook his head. “What could a young lad like you offer the Legend?”
He thought her a young lad, but that had been her intention when she’d donned the garments. It had worked. Her weight loss and her meager height served her disguise well, but she did not wish to deceive this man, only those who would mean her harm.
“Do you have a hearing problem, lad?” the large man nearly shouted.
“Nay,” she said quickly and removed her cap, letting her long black hair spill past her shoulders.
The man’s face turned bright red, and he sputtered in an attempt to talk.
Reena felt guilty for causing him unease. “I meant no deception; it was for my own protection I dressed as a lad, my intentions being to travel here and offer my mapmaking skills to the Legend.”
With his face glowing red, the man asked, “Mapmaking?”
“Aye,” she said quickly and set her bundle on the ground to pull out one of the maps she carried with her. She handed it to him. “See for yourself.”
The man took it from her and looked it over. “You mapped this area?”
“My father mapped the area on a visit here. I copied his details and added the ones he spoke about when telling of his journey, but I have personally mapped places myself.”
“It is done well.”
“Thank you.” Reena smiled, proud of her skill.
“But how do I know that is why you are truly here? Many seek to meet with the Legend and not all with good intentions in mind.”
Reena took the map from him and stuffed it in her bundle. “Do I look like someone who could cause the Legend harm?”
He looked her over while rubbing his chin. “You are a scrawny lass, but appearance can deceive.”
“I can assure you my only motive is to secure his services to help my village in exchange for my mapping skills. I mean him no harm; I give you my word of honor on that.”
He nodded. “I will accept your word, but I warn you, a high price will be paid for any deception.”
“I wish to deceive no one.”
He introduced himself. “I am Thomas.”
“Reena,” she said and shared a quick handshake with him.
“I know not if he needs a mapmaker, but that is for him to decide. I will take you to him”—he paused, and his smile challenged—“that is, if you have the courage to face the Legend.”
Reena shoved her black hair beneath her cap. “Lead the way.”
They reached the keep as dusk appeared on the horizon. Her legs were tired, having to take several strides to match Thomas’s one large stride, but she complained not. She kept pace no matter how tired she felt, though at the moment she wished for a pallet of any kind to lay her tired body on.
The stone wall that surrounded the castle grounds stood a good eight feet or more. Reena and Thomas crossed a thick wooden plank with heavy chains attached to each side; once raised, it would make the castle impregnable. Reena tilted her head back as she passed under the portcullis and admired the skilled craftsmanship.
The interior of the walled fortress amazed her. It contained a village larger than her own. The many cottages were well kept, the thatching on the roofs fresh and thick. The individual gardens had been harvested along with the large fields that occupied most of the land opposite the cottages. She caught sight of the fully stocked storehouses and envied their harvest.
She passed metalworkers, weavers, and masons who were busy constructing a tower, and it was just past the tower that Reena saw the keep. It was impressive in size and solid in structure.
Villagers called out and waved to Thomas. The people appeared a cheerful lot, but then they had plenty of food and the protection of the Legend. What did they have to fear?
A small chapel sat to the right of the keep, and a short, stout man dressed in brown clerical robes was busy stocking chopped wood beside it.
Thomas waved to him.
The man waved back and smiled. “The chapel will be nice and warm Sunday, Thomas. See you at Mass.”
Reena could not help but comment. “There is a fireplace in the chapel?”
Thomas answered without breaking his stride. “Cleric David believes the chapel should be a place of comfort for his flock, so when it was built he insisted on a fireplace.”
Her own village had never had a chapel and had limited access to a cleric; the new earl insisted that religion was wasted on heathens.
It was then she felt the rumble beneath her feet; it was as if the ground trembled. She looked to Thomas to see if he had felt it, but he continued walking undisturbed. She rushed to catch up with him, but the steady rumble beneath her had her casting an anxious glance over her shoulder.
She noticed the villagers hurry off the pathway to hover near their cottages and fences as they looked anxiously toward the portcullis.
Was someone approaching the castle?
A fine mist suddenly appeared and crept slowly along the ground as if in answer, but it was not the mist that concerned her.
The rumble turned into a distinct thunder and Reena realized that it actually heralded approaching men on horseback. She heard the unmistakable sound of horses’ hooves pounding the planks of the drawbridge before she caught her first glimpse of the warriors.
They entered with a flourish and villagers ran to get out of their way, the massive steeds and powerful mares demanding that no one cross their path—the path where Reena stood.
She froze watching the mighty beasts and their ominous dark riders approach. She wanted to move; she had to move, but the sight of the warrior who led them rendered her powerless.
He was like nothing she had ever seen before.
There was not a speck of light to him. His garments were black, blacker than the darkest night, and his black metal helmet concealed all but his eyes, mouth and chin. He resembled a demon spawned from the depths of hell ready to devour anyone in his path.
“Move away,” Thomas shouted at her.
Her fear of the descending demon kept her legs frozen. Her mind screamed for her to do as Thomas warned, but she could not move as her legs refused to obey her.
The mist swirled around her feet, night devoured the dusky sky, the ground shook and the devil descended upon her.
Again she silently screamed, to run and hide, escape, but she cringed and braced to face death.
She was suddenly swept up by a strong arm and landed with a thud on the horse. With a quick yank her back slammed against his solid, leather-clad chest and his arm remained firm around her waist.
She thought she heard him angrily grumble, “Fool.” But she could not be certain.
It was not long before he brought his beast of a steed to a halt at the foot of the steps to the keep. After the horse settled under his skillful hand, he grabbed her arm and swung her off the animal, depositing her on the ground just as Thomas caught up with them.
The dark warrior dismounted his horse, handing the reins to a young lad who waited nearby. He walked up to Thomas. “I will see you and the lad inside.”
Thomas watched as the warrior walked up the steps and disappeared behind the massive wooden door. He then turned to Reena and with a grin said, “You have just met the Legend.”
Chapter 3
Reena’s legs trembled so badly that she thought she would not be able to take another step, but she did. The Legend already thought her a fool; she could not allow herself to appear even more foolish. He would never wish to retain her as his mapmaker.
She entered the great hall behind Thomas, giving a peek past his massive shoulders. The Legend motioned with his hand, and the few people in the hall emptied without protest. He pulled his helmet off his head and laid it on the table beside him before turning to face her and Thomas.
Her breath caught in anticipation, and she clung tightly to her meager sack. She almost gasped at the sight of him. She had e
xpected a beast and instead saw beauty. She had not thought a man’s face could be beautiful, but his was a work of art—every bone, each muscle, the texture blended perfectly together.
She could imagine drawing his face, the ease with which the charcoal would flow, and all because he was crafted so magnificently. And coloring, his eyes were the deepest of browns, like the rich soil just before planting, and his long hair was a lighter shade of brown with streaks the color of golden wheat raging through it. And tall, he was so very tall, at least a head past most men. And his expression?
Thomas quietly voiced her thoughts. “He is angry.”
The Legend removed his black leather gloves and tossed them on top of the helmet before walking over to Thomas.
“The reason for this lad’s foolishness.”
It was not a question; it was a demand, and Reena suddenly wondered if she truly was foolish for thinking she could convince such a powerful man to help her. But then, she was here; she had made it this far into the Legend’s home, she could not retreat now.
She stepped from behind Thomas before the large man could answer, and she removed her cap, a gesture of respect and to clarify her gender. She did not wish the Legend thinking that she deliberately deceived him.
Her long hair spilled down around her shoulders, and she pushed the silky dark strands behind her ears, away from her face.
His response was to cross his arms over his broad chest and stare at her.
No simple stare, but one that intimidated her to the depths of her soul. Without speaking a word, he demanded an explanation.
She gathered every ounce of courage she had. “A lad fairs better on the road than a lass with no companion. A lad’s garb was as necessary as my journey here. I have come to ask for your help.”
The Legend looked her over. “What man in your village would allow a bit of a lass like you to journey on her own?”
“It was my choice,” she said, a defensive edge to her tone.
“Do you always make unwise decisions?”
She clung tightly to her cap to keep her hands from trembling and her anger from flaring. “I make necessary decisions. My village is starving. We have lost two people already; I will see no more die.”
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