Warriors lined the battlements, their bows and arrows in hand and ready for battle. A circle of warriors protected the villagers and the keep, and more were dispersed in the woods, where they could not be seen but their arrows would soon be felt.
Magnus stood in front of the villagers. His garments were all black, except for the silver metal studs that crisscrossed over his leather tunic, and his long hair framed a face that, while handsome, looked devoid of emotion. He appeared ready to destroy anything that stood in his path—even the devil himself.
Peter Kilkern approached at a slow gait with several of his men following behind. Reena walked beside his horse with a trembling Horace in her arms. It was not until they were close enough that Magnus saw the bruise on the side of Reena’s mouth.
His hand curled into a fist at his side.
Kilkern stopped a short distance from Magnus, and when he did, Reena kept walking forward.
“I gave you no order to leave my side,” Kilkern shouted at her.
She ignored him and kept walking with her head held high, straight to Magnus.
He wanted to grab her and hug her close to him, so relieved was he that she had returned safely, proud that she was confident in his ability to protect her.
“My lord,” she said with a bow of her head, purposely honoring him in front of Kilkern. She then walked past him and joined Brigid and her parents, giving them a glance that warned they were not to fuss over her but to remain as they were, a show of true strength to their new lord.
Peter Kilkern dismounted, along with a few of his men. Dressed in his usual rich finery, his dark eyes alert to all around him, he approached Magnus with arrogant confidence, laughing as he removed his brown leather gloves, three of his men following close behind him.
Magnus remained as he was, forcing Kilkern to come to him, refusing to step forward and display any sign of welcome.
Kilkern felt the insult and lashed out. “I have come for my tenants, you have no right—”
“You have no right to starve them.”
“Let them grow more food.”
“So you can raise the tenant fees and take more from them?” Magnus’s expression remained cold. “Their yearly fees are paid to you, and they owe you no more. They are free to go where they choose.”
Kilkern appeared angry—very angry. He stepped forward again. “They have no rights. They belong to me and you will return them.”
Magnus’s words were for Kilkern’s ears alone. “Make me.”
Kilkern grew even more agitated. “One tenant fee has not been paid in full to me. That tenant will return and fulfill her obligation.”
“Who is this you speak of?”
“Brigid.”
Gasps rumbled throughout the villagers, and Reena quickly squeezed her friend’s hand in reassurance.
“I will pay what she owes you,” Magnus said and motioned to one of his men.
Kilkern was adamant. “Nay, she will serve out her obligation to me; I will have it no other way.”
“Brigid remains here. You can leave with her fee paid or without it, but that does not change the fact that Brigid will not leave with you.”
Kilkern spit out his words like venom. “Want her for yourself?”
Magnus’s slow smile was like a warning. “What I want, I always get. Remember that.”
Kilkern seemed at a loss, though he recovered his composure quickly. “Pay me her fee, but you will be sorry for taking this lazy lot; they are worthless.”
Magnus tossed the coins at him and had Kilkern sign a paper stating his tenants were free of all debt to him.
“Kilkern,” Magnus said as he turned to walk away.
“Earl of Culberry,” Kilkern corrected.
Magnus ignored his title. “Who struck the woman?”
“She was being insolent.”
“I did not ask why she was struck; I asked who struck her.”
“It matters not.”
“It does to me.”
Kilkern ignored him and walked away, his men waiting as their lord walked to his horse and mounted safely.
“She is a worthless woman, too frail to work the fields and too skinny to be appealing to a man.”
Magnus’s fists were fast and furious, and before anyone realized what had happened, three of Kil-kern’s men lay sprawled out on the ground.
Magnus stepped over the fallen men and walked up to Kilkern. “Never touch what is mine.” He turned his back on Kilkern and walked up to Thomas. “Make certain they are escorted off Dunhurnal land.”
Thomas grinned. “With pleasure.”
Magnus watched with his arms crossed over his chest as Kilkern’s men gathered their wits, mounted their horses, and were led from Dunhurnal land by a large escort of the Legend’s warriors.
When they were no longer in sight, Magnus addressed his new tenants as a fine mist of rain began to fall. “You are free of Kilkern. I will be fair in my dealings and I expect the same from you. There is much work to be done here, and I expect all of you to do your share. Now go and enjoy your new homes, and join me and mine this evening in the great hall as we celebrate our good fortune.”
Cheers rang out, laughter was plentiful, tears of joy were shed, and everyone hurried out of the rain after paying thanks with bowed heads and smiles to their new lord. They were no longer fearful, for they had seen for themselves his strength and courage and how he protected one of his.
“Reena.”
The summons was distinct, and Reena was not certain who she preferred not to face—her parents, who were ready to fuss over her, Brigid, who looked concerned, or Magnus, whose anger was obvious in his glistening dark eyes.
Horace seemed as undecided as she, though when Reena approached Magnus, the little pup hastily jumped out of her arms and made his way to Brigid to huddle at her feet.
Magnus turned and walked up the steps to the keep, a sign that Reena was to follow. She did, though with reluctance.
The great hall was busy with activity as women and warriors alike worked together to make it presentable for the evening meal. Years of neglect meant much hard work to restore the keep to its original condition. The land as well, for it had fallen in great disrepair, and much toil would be needed for a good harvest to be met. The soil was rich, though, and that alone would almost guarantee good crops.
Those thoughts brought a smile to Reena, a brief one, since her mouth hurt from the blow she had sustained, and which was the very reason Magnus summoned her. Was she in trouble? After she had departed on her brief quest to survey the piece of land she’d feared had been mapped incorrectly, she’d realized that she should have requested permission from Magnus. She’d been accustomed to doing as she’d pleased when it had come to her maps, but that was no more; she now answered to a new lord. She had hoped she would return to the keep before he knew of her absence. Then she’d met with Kilkern and his men, and she’d known she was in trouble.
Magnus continued through the great hall, down and around a narrow passageway and up spiral stone steps to come out into a large room. Debris and cobwebs occupied the place, and a tattered tapestry hung on a wall. A large fireplace occupied a whole wall and was made of thick round stones, the mantel being one solid beam of wood.
With his arms crossed over his chest, Magnus took a stance in front of the cold hearth.
Reena decided to offer an apology, hoping to avoid a confrontation. “I am sorry for not seeking your permission to leave the village. My only excuse, and a poor one at that, is that I have yet to grow accustomed to answering to anyone for my actions.”
She shivered, not certain whether she was chilled by the cold room or by his chilled expression.
He remained silent, an indication that he gave her words thought. She waited.
He closed the distance between them to stand directly in front of her, so close that she could feel the warmth of his body. It eased her chill and brought her comfort.
An odd thought, and one she pushed from her m
ind.
“Tell me what happened.”
“Kilkern’s men appeared out of nowhere, though I had been too busy taking note of the land—”
“—to pay attention to your safety.”
“Foolish, I know,” she admitted with a brief shake of her head.
“Then you spoke up without thinking.”
Her eyes went wide.
“I have learned you are not one to hold your tongue.”
“I can when necessary,” she defended. “But my confidence was strong, having the distinction of being the Legend’s mapmaker.”
“And this you told him.”
“Aye,” she said with her head high. “Straight and forward I was, letting him know that I was now under your protection.”
Magnus held firm to his anger; that Kilkern would strike Reena knowing she was under his protection infuriated him.
“Your name seemed to anger him as much as his presence angers you.” She hoped for an explanation, though she doubted he was ready to offer it.
“He lashed out at you.” Magnus reached up and gently touched the swollen corner of her mouth. “Perhaps Old Margaret can help alleviate your discomfort.”
His voice softened, his eyes showed concern, and his touch was light, like butterfly wings whispering across her cheek. Her legs trembled, her knees grew weak, and she fought the urge to rest her head on his chest.
Instead she stepped away from him. “I will see what Margaret can do, and I thank you for what you did for Brigid. I know you will find her to your liking, for she is a good and kind woman.”
“So are you.”
She laughed, though it sounded sad to his ears. “Did you not hear Kilkern? I am useless and not attractive to a man.”
“He is ignorant and blind.”
“I have grown thin, and my features are plain and will set no man’s heart to beating wildly.”
Magnus closed the distance between them once more. “You possess the skill, the strength and the courage to travel the land and map it. How many among us can do as you do? And as for your features?”
He paused and stared at her in silence.
Did words fail him? Were her features so difficult to describe that he could find no words? And why did the thought hurt her so? She had never allowed such silly nonsense to disturb her before.
He spoke then in a whisper, as if his words were meant for her alone. “The only beauty that counts is the true beauty that is seen by a true heart.”
Her laughter was soft, like a gentle breeze. “Then beauty escapes me, for a true heart will never find me. No man will love a woman such as I, and it is good that I know this, for I will not waste my time on useless dreams.”
She turned and hurried from the room, rushing down the steps and out of the keep.
Chapter 10
Winter nipped at the last few days of autumn, and preparation was well underway to make certain all in the village and keep were ready. In the two weeks since their arrival at Dunhurnal, the villagers and the Legend’s warriors had been busy repairing and preparing the cottages, the keep and the land. Much had been accomplished. Though more work was necessary, at least everyone would have a warm, comfortable cottage for the winter.
Warriors busily hunted game, while the women saw to smoking and salting the meat for storage. Wool cloth was distributed to the women, who immediately set to work sewing new garments. Wood was chopped and stored, and peat collected for a sufficient supply of fuel for the hearths.
Through all the activity Reena saw to it that Brigid was often thrown in Magnus’s path. And she made certain that he was aware of how talented Brigid was with a needle and thread and cooking.
Brigid had helped in the cleaning of the keep’s kitchen, a large room separated from the castle though connected by a covered passageway, which Magnus had ordered enclosed. He insisted that his servants would remain warm along with the food as they carried it from the kitchen to the keep during the cold winter months.
Reena divided her time between helping her parents settle into their cottage and Brigid in hers.
It surprised Reena that her own quarters were located in the keep. They were larger than she had expected, and the room was furnished with not only a good-size bed but also a large table more than sufficient for mapping. She would have enough room to place her inkwells, quills, maps and several candles.
Presently, she was on her way to the woods behind Brigid’s cottage to look for bird feathers that would make good quills. She wanted to make certain that she had a good supply before winter set in. Magnus had promised she would have sufficient mapping material, including quills, ink and paper, but she favored making her own quills.
Thomas was outside Brigid’s cottage, clearing the front of overgrown weeds and brush. He and Brigid had become good friends, and it was he who had seen to the repair of her cottage. Her roof thatching had been repaired, the window shutters were secure, and the hearth was in good working condition, Thomas having insisted she would be safe and warm when winter’s chill set in. And he had promised her a fine garden in the spring, which was why he had set to work now clearing the land.
Thomas greeted her with a wave. “Good timing. Brigid just made fresh mulled cider.”
Reena licked her lips. “She makes the best mulled cider.”
Thomas brushed his hands off. “Magnus thinks the same, he is enjoying some now.”
Reena felt the familiar tug to her tummy, but she ignored it. She’d realized over the last week or so that she found Magnus to her liking. He was handsome enough, but that was not what attracted her to him. She enjoyed talking with him on a variety of subjects, sharing opinions and being treated with equal intelligence. He expected no womanly chores from her and encouraged her to pursue her drawing skills and, of course, work on her maps. He often shared his experiences of other lands, detailing how difficult it had been at times to traverse unknown terrain.
And she knew in her heart that Magnus could be no more than a friend. She was not the type of woman he could care for; being small in size and having lost weight, she resembled a young lad. Even with weight she did not possess the appealing body that Brigid had, and she doubted she would ever have such an alluring shape. Then there were her simple features, nothing that would make a man take notice.
She was definitely not the type of woman Magnus could love, and she did not want to foolishly lose her heart to someone who could never love her. Magnus and Brigid suited each other well, and she would do well to remember that.
Therefore it was not surprising that she envied her friend Brigid, though it was a friendly envy, since she wanted very much for Brigid to be happy again, and she would have Magnus as a good friend as well. Besides, she doubted she would find love, and she did not wish to waste time pursuing a dream that would never come true.
And she always had Horace. The little pup had grown a little bigger and followed her wherever she went, though the woods frightened him, and he would often wait for her at Brigid’s cottage, where she would return to find him curled sound asleep in front of the warm hearth or waiting impatiently at the front door.
She followed Thomas into the cottage, Horace leading the way.
Magnus was laughing and Brigid was smiling when they joined them, and Reena smiled along with them, happy to see her friend enjoying life once again. Magnus was good for her, and she was glad she had seen to it that the two were often placed in each other’s paths, though today their company was not of her doing.
“Reena,” Brigid said, reaching to fill a tankard. “Just in time for cinnamon cakes and cider.”
Thomas sat opposite Magnus at the table, and she sat at the opposite end from Brigid. Horace plopped down beside Brigid, knowing she would give him food in good time.
Reena had barely taken a bite of her cake when a knock sounded at the door.
Brigid bid her visitor welcome.
Justin, the tanner, entered. “I am truly sorry to interrupt.”
“Is there a
problem?” Magnus asked, knowing the young man, since he found his talents useful in producing the leather tunics he favored. He was a personable young man, average in height and quiet in nature.
“Nay, my lord, I was hoping to have a word with Reena.”
Reena grabbed her cinnamon cake and one for Justin, and she stood before she realized that Brigid was looking at her strangely and Thomas was holding a beefy hand to his mouth to hide his smile.
Reena mentally shook her head, not wanting to openly admit she’d once again given no thought to seeking Magnus’s permission to leave when in his presence. Not that he strictly demanded such obedience, especially when he and she shared time together, but when in the company of others, it was proper and courteous for her to do so.
Justin quickly sought to correct her mistake. “My lord, I will only take a moment of Reena’s time.”
“That is good, since her cider will chill if she is gone too long.”
Reena was surprised at his response; he seemed annoyed at her brief absence.
She hurried out the door with Justin, handing him a cake as they walked a short distance away from the cottage.
Justin was apologetic. “I am sorry to bother you, but I needed to talk with someone, and you have often lent a gracious and understanding ear to me.”
She placed her hand on his arm. “I do not mind listening. What troubles you?”
“How do you know I feel troubled?”
“You have not touched Brigid’s cinnamon cake, and no one can resist Brigid’s cinnamon cakes.”
Justin stared at the cake in his hand. “I have lost my appetite.” He sighed again and shook his head.
“Only love can cause loss of appetite.”
Justin shook his head and admitted with frustration, “She does not know I exist.”
“Who is it you favor?”
“Maura, the young lass who helps Kate, the cook, in the kitchen.”
Reena knew immediately of whom he spoke. “She is a pretty one, with that long red hair of hers.”
“Aye, she is,” Justin said with a heartfelt sigh. “And there are many men who agree with you, which is my problem. Do you think I have a chance with her?”
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