Legendary Warrior

by Donna Fletcher

  Magnus remained silent for a moment, and she waited, knowing he would answer after his own thoughts had settled.

  “The metal ring is to chain a prisoner.”

  “The small chamber is a prison?”

  “A special prison that no one knows exists.”

  Reena was appalled. “How horrible. The room is too remote, far removed from the rest of the keep. A person could die in that room and no one would ever know.”

  Magnus pointed to the tower room. “In this room as well. No cries would be heard even from the windows; they are too far up. The screams would sound like a mere whisper when they reached the ground.”

  She pointed where he did, her finger touching his. “Will you imprison here?”

  There was another moment of silence that had Reena wondering what secrets—or, perhaps, nightmares—haunted him.

  “Nay, this room will know no more sorrow.”

  She thought to comfort him, though from what she did not quite understand; she only knew that the sorrow he spoke of belonged to him. She splayed her hand over his. “Furnishings that lend comfort, tapestries that add color and a larger fireplace that chases away the cold would all welcome anyone who enters the tower room.”

  He moved his fingers to lock onto hers and held tight. “You have ideas for change, this is good.”

  As she had extended comfort with her touch, he extended comfort with his firm grasp, and it was a natural comfort they shared. It took no effort, no thought, no choice; it was a reaction of the heart.

  Flutters rushed through her stomach and up to circle her heart and she smiled, knowing there was nothing she could do.

  He leaned his face close to hers. “Do what you will to the room.”

  She shook her head. “The choice belongs to the lord of the keep.”

  “The lord of the keep is instructing you to see to the changes.”

  “And if you should not care for them?”

  He tucked a wisp of her long dark hair behind her ear, his finger slowly stroking the edge. “I trust you.”

  A sturdy knock on her door interrupted them and the shiver that raced through her.

  “Enter,” Magnus called out.

  Thomas entered. “You are needed.”

  Magnus nodded, then turned to Reena. “I will give orders that you are to be helped with the tower room, but the mornings are ours to spend touring the keep, and in the evenings we will discuss our findings.” With a kiss of her hand he left, closing the door behind him.

  Perplexed by the touch of intimacy, she stared at the closed door. If she gave thought to the time they spent together, she would see that he often reached out to touch her. And while his touch had at first been no more than a helping hand, it had slowly changed without her realizing it—until now.

  His hand had often gone to her arm, guiding her along dark passageways. His arm would find her waist when stairwells became steep, and he would stand close beside her when looking over a map, his cheek brushing hers.

  Was it on purpose?

  Did he find her interesting?

  Did he find her appealing?

  He would not tend toward intimacy if he did not at least find her appealing.

  Or did he favor a mere sexual romp?

  Her thoughts were once again a whirlwind of questions, and she shook her head, growing tired of the endless barrage of doubts. She was grateful for the faint knock at her door, the intrusion helping to clear her mind.

  “Enter,” she said and smiled when Brigid entered. Her grin grew wider when she saw that her friend held a tray filled with tarts and a pitcher of—she sniffed the air. “Old Margaret made her winter brew and you made your fruit tarts.” She rubbed her hands together in anticipation and cleared a small table to move in front of the hearth.

  Brigid’s smile was generous. “Aye, I thought you could use both. You have been busy of late.”

  She set the tray down while Reena pulled two chairs to the table. The fire snapped and crackled and provided a toasty warmth to the room. The two women sat and were soon enjoying the winter brew and the tarts.

  “Your mother tells everyone that while she wishes you would visit with them more often, she knows how busy you are in the service of Lord Dunhurnal.” Brigid laughed lightly. “Your father once again tells his tales, though now they are about you. Your parents are proud of you.”

  Reena’s smile was tender. “I am glad to hear this. I had worried so about them.”

  “You worried about everyone except yourself.” Brigid did not accuse: she reminded.

  A whimper caught their attention, and it grew louder as Reena walked to the door. She opened it, and Horace ran in, heading straight for the table.

  Reena returned to her seat and gave the pup, who had grown considerably over the last few weeks, a generous piece of her tart.

  “See,” Brigid said on a laugh. “You even put the pup before yourself.”

  “Can you not see that he grows and needs the sustenance?” Reena laughed herself.

  “Horace gets sustenance from everyone.”

  “Food is plentiful.”

  “Because of you,” Brigid reminded. “The villagers are grateful, though they remain fearful that Kilkern will have his retribution.”

  “Magnus will see to Kilkern,” Reena said with confidence.

  “Aye, I agree, but memories of last winter linger, and if by chance Kilkern gains control of this land, he will be harsh in his revenge.”

  “How could he do that? Magnus’s strength far surpasses his.”

  “Gossip has started that Kilkern will petition the king to return Dunhurnal land to him since it is rightfully his.”

  “He but thinks he deserves it,” Reena said. “He has no right to the land, gossip says the king granted it to Magnus in return for his service and the king will see that it remains his. All will go well here.”

  Brigid nodded. “I believe the same. The sadness in my heart grows less heavy each day, and with our move to Dunhurnal land, I now look forward to another day.”

  “You will love again,” Reena assured her, but it wounded her heart to think that she might find that love with Magnus.

  “I care not about finding another love right now. The pleasures of life are slowly returning to me and I wish to enjoy them.” She laughed. “It feels good to cook again and have the food appreciated.”

  “Thomas?” Reena asked.

  “Aye. He has been an enormous help to me and he is so kindhearted. I enjoy his visits. He is a good man and wants only friendship from me. I am at peace with my loss and that is good, and now I go on.”

  “I am glad to hear this and I am happy for you. It has been too long since we have been happy, though Justin is certainly happy.”

  Both women smiled wide and leaned closer to share gossip.

  “He spends all his time with Maura,” Brigid said. “And she with him. They are inseparable.”

  Reena added her own news. “They are always smiling when I see them, whether they are together or apart. I sometimes wish I had more time to spend with family and friends, but time is something I have little of, though I do not complain, and I doubt many understand my penchant for mapping or drawing.”

  “No one comments—they accept you for who you are, and besides, they are grateful for your courage.”

  “I did what was necessary for the good of all.” Reena did not wish to discuss herself and quickly changed topics. “I have a favor I need of you. I have ideas for the tower room and would like your help.”

  “I would love to help you. Tell me your ideas.”

  The two women discussed the room until several yawns alerted them to the late hour. Brigid bid her goodnight, excited and ready to start the project they had discussed.

  Reena was filled with excitement of her own, and though several yawns warned she was not far from slumber, she decided to finish a few details on the map she’d worked on.

  A surprising growl from Horace, who lay curled in front of the hearth,
alerted her to a late-night visitor. The flickering shadows in the room, the sound of crackling fire, the lateness of the hour and Horace’s steady growl gave her a sudden unease.

  The knock eased her worry, though she called out, “Who is it?”

  “Magnus.”

  Her concern faded completely at the sound of his strong voice.

  She bade him entrance.

  “I saw the faint light under your door and could not believe you remained awake at this hour, and still working. And was that a growl I heard from my dog?”

  Reena giggled. “I think he grows courageous with age.”

  “But he growls at his master,” Magnus said with a laugh and a shake of his head.

  Horace had already returned to his sound slumber, ignoring them both.

  “You have worked since I left you?”

  “Nay, Brigid visited, I wish only to finish a detail or two.”

  “Brigid is good?” Magnus approached her desk.

  Reena repeated her friend’s words. “She is at peace with life.”

  “I am glad to hear that. She is a good woman.”

  Reena thought to try once again and see if there was a chance for Magnus and Brigid, though she hesitated for a moment and wondered over her reluctance to speak.

  “Do you not look for a good woman to take as a wife?”

  “I seek a woman to love to take as my wife.”

  “Can love not come later in a marriage?” Reena asked.

  “It is always possible, but then without a spark of love, a bit of interest or at least an attraction, indifference and hate can also come later.”

  He walked around the desk, slowly lowered his lips to hers, and kissed her softly. “Goodnight, and while you sleep, think of who you wish to love.”

  Chapter 16

  An unusually harsh winter hit the land, and much time was spent indoors by all. Reena visited with her mother and father when she could, though oftentimes when she did, her father was busy entertaining the village children with heroic tales.

  Life was good for all right now even though eyes were kept wide and strangers watched carefully. Safety was not taken for granted. Kilkern could not be trusted. He waited and planned, and eventually he would make himself known.

  Reena hurried down the stairs to the great hall. She was starving and looking forward to talking with Brigid. They’d made plans to meet this morning and discuss the remaining work that needed finishing in the tower room.

  She caught sight of Brigid at a table close to the fireplace. Thomas sat beside her and Magnus stood, his look angry. Something was wrong. She hurried over to the trio.

  “What has happened?” Reena asked, a sense of dread descending on her.

  Magnus answered. “I received a message from Kilkern that Brigid is to be turned over to him for theft from his property.”

  “Brigid stole nothing from him,” Reena argued.

  “He claims otherwise and demands a punishment fitting the crime. He refuses any compensation, insisting the object was invaluable.”

  “What is it he claims she stole? And why wait until now to accuse?” Reena was furious and stood beside her friend, her hand on her shoulder. She could feel Brigid tremble with fear, and she squeezed her shoulder in reassurance.

  Silence hung heavy in the air and Reena wondered over it, glancing from one to another in search of an answer.

  Magnus spoke. “He claims he only recently realized he no longer possessed the object and that he was with Brigid when he last saw it.”

  “And this priceless object is?”

  “A map.”

  Reena shook her head. “A map? A map of what? And why would a map be so important to him?”

  “Kilkern claims that this map shows that Dunhurnal land is actually Kilkern land and that it was divided unlawfully and given to one Brian Dunhurnal. Dates and boundaries on the map and the signature of the king would prove his claim. He insists that Brigid stole it for me.”

  “That is ridiculous,” Reena said. “She did not know you until you arrived here with me.”

  “Kilkern claims otherwise, and if I do not surrender Brigid, he warns that he will petition the king to have her turned over to him, in addition to the return of Dunhurnal land, which he says rightfully belongs to him.”

  Reena could do nothing but shake her head at the absurdity of Kilkern’s claims.

  “He but baits me, wanting me to make a foolish move,” Magnus said.

  “What will you do?” Reena asked, her hand remaining firm on her friend’s shoulder.

  “First, I will make certain Brigid has extra protection. I would expect Kilkern to make an attempt to abduct her.” Magnus looked to Thomas. “You will guard her well.”

  “Have no doubt of that,” Thomas said. “I will not leave her side.”

  Brigid cast sympathetic eyes on Thomas. “You will tire of seeing my face.”

  “Beauty never tires the eyes.”

  “Oh, Thomas,” Brigid said. “I am glad it is you who will guard me. I will feel well protected.”

  “And what of Kilkern?” Reena asked. “What is to be done about him?”

  “He will be seen to in time. He will not succeed in taking this land. It belongs to me and will remain mine,” Magnus said with a confidence that had none doubting his words. “Until then life goes on as usual. Now let us eat, for I am starving.”

  Thomas agreed with a strong, “Aye.”

  Reena added similar sentiments. “I hunger for a good meal.”

  Brigid laughed. “My stomach tells me the same, and this is good, for if we truly feared Kilkern, none of us would be so hungry.”

  They laughed along with her, and soon the table was covered with trays and platters of hot food and pitchers of mulled cider. After they ate Thomas followed Brigid, along with Horace, to the tower room, and Magnus and Reena went off to continue mapping the keep. It was near finished, with only the area beneath the keep, which had served as a prison, to explore.

  With torch in hand, Magnus preceded Reena down the narrow stone staircase.

  “Watch your step,” he cautioned. “A dampness fills this passageway and makes the stones slippery.”

  The further they descended, the more damp it became, and a stench filled the already musty air. Magnus stopped at the bottom step and held the torch high, the flickering flame casting a ghostly light over his handsome face. “I had the prison cells cleaned as best as possible, but a scent lingers, and I think it always will. If the odor offends you, we can try another day, or I can detail the cells and you can map them from my memory.”

  “Nay, I need to see the area for myself or else the map will not be as accurate as it should be. The odor is strange and could certainly be obnoxious to the senses, but I will be fine.”

  “You will tell me if the smell begins to trouble you?”

  “Aye,” she answered. “Let us start—the sooner I map, the sooner we can leave the foul odor behind us.”

  Magnus nodded and proceeded down the corridor. “I had several torches lit so that there would be sufficient light for you.”

  Six torches flamed brightly in metal wall sconces and shed light on an area where darkness had once reigned. Reena stood silent, staring at the cells. The doors were open wide, and complete darkness greeted anyone who entered. The thought of being swallowed by the cavernous black hole ran a shiver through her.

  Magnus moved next to her. “Can you do this?”

  She took a breath and wished she had not: the odor suddenly turned to a foul stench. “Yes.”

  “All the cells are the same,” Magnus said, raising the torch high after stepping into the first cell, chasing the darkness to crouch in the corners. “Sketch one and you sketch them all.”

  “Nay,” she argued. “That is not so, I wish to see every cell.” And she did, her disgust growing as she sketched and thought of the people who had suffered here. A small window set high in the thick wooden door would have been the only source of light in each cell—if the
wall torches remained lit. Otherwise, complete darkness engulfed the cells.

  The foul odor grew stronger as they reached the end cell, and Reena realized the stench came from the opening beyond the six cells. Magnus blocked the entrance, and when she moved to walk past him, he held out his arm, preventing her from going any further.

  “That room needs no mapping.”

  “If I am to do a thorough map of the keep, all rooms must be included.”

  “It is not for you to see.”

  “I must,” she insisted.

  He was blunt. “It is where prisoners were tortured.”

  “All the more reason to record it,” she said and pushed his arm away to enter the foreboding room.

  Reena froze with her first step into the room and then slowly turned in a circle to view the horror in front of her. Metal cages hung from the ceiling and a large cauldron occupied the middle of the room, cold ashes cradling the bottom. A rack with metal cuffs and chains secured to top and bottom stretched out like a bed near the cauldron. Chains with attached metal cuffs hung from metal rings in the wall, and metal implements of torture lay rusted on the ground.

  She closed her eyes for a moment and could almost hear the painful screams, the pleas of mercy and the smell of blood and burning flesh.

  How could a man inflict such pain on another?

  Magnus shoved the torch in the wall sconce and walked up behind her. “Survival has its horrors.”

  “Nay,” Reena said, a tear in her eye. “There is no excuse for man’s inhumanity to man.”

  “Life needs defending at times.”

  “Defending, aye.” She pointed to the various torture devices. “But this is not defending, this is pure horror to humanity. And I will record every speck of it.”

  She set to work drawing and examining the room in detail so that her recording of this horror prison would be exact. When an hour had passed, Magnus said, “Enough.”

  “I am almost done.” Her hand had not stopped sketching and did not slow down.

  “You are done.” He stilled her hand with his. “No more, Reena.”

  She glared at him. “I will finish here, and then I will sketch something of beauty to rid me of this horror.”