Legendary Warrior

Home > Other > Legendary Warrior > Page 14
Legendary Warrior Page 14

by Donna Fletcher


  “Will you be able to recognize beauty after viewing horror?”

  Her answer came easily. “Aye, I see beauty every day when I look upon your face.”

  Magnus stepped closer to her, his hands going to her waist. “You find beauty in the Legend? Some would think you insane.”

  Her hand dropped to the side, holding on to her piece of charcoal and drawing paper. “They do not know the Legend as I do.”

  He moved closer. “You know not the Legend, nor do you want to.”

  She looked in his dark eyes and how they glistened with light from the flaming torches. Light and darkness. Two men in one. “I know he is a fair man.”

  His laugh was haunting. “Fair? I have seen men tortured—” His silence was sudden, as if he thought better of his words.

  She wanted to know more, though her legs trembled. He wore no iron helmet now, but it was the Legend who stood in front of her and who rested his strong hands on her hips.

  She found the courage to ask. “Was it difficult to watch?”

  His answer sent a cold shiver down her spine. “I was the one who ordered the torture.”

  This was the Legend, the fearless man who instilled fear in his foe and friend alike. And this was the man she worried that she might be falling in love with? Perhaps she was insane.

  His hands tightened at her waist. “You know me not, Reena.”

  “I would like to know you and understand you, and I will begin by drawing you.”

  “You still see beauty in me?” He seemed surprised.

  She touched his cheek. He had inflicted suffering, but had suffering been inflicted on him? “I see beauty and much more.” She traced a finger over his cheekbone. “Pride is obvious.”

  His fine lips quivered in laughter, though it turned to a smile.

  She squeezed his chin. “Stubbornness.”

  “Strength,” he argued on a laugh.

  She corrected him with a gentle brush of her finger across his forehead. “Strength.” She moved to the corners of his eyes. “Insight.” Her finger trailed down to his mouth and slowly traced his lips. “Humor, honesty, gentleness and . . .”

  Actions, she decided, would say more than words. She stood on her toes and slowly brushed her lips across his. She traced his lips with her wet tongue and kissed him again. She nipped at his lower lips and kissed him again.

  In an instant he pulled her to him, her paper and charcoal falling out of her hand and her arms rushing around his neck. They locked in a fiery kiss, their surroundings ignored, their need a force of raging desire that made them prisoners of passion.

  His mouth moved down to claim her neck, and she turned her head, giving him free rein. She gave him mere seconds to enjoy, then returned to claim more kisses from him, hungry for the taste of him.

  He stopped her, cupping her face in his hands. “This is not the place for this. I want to kiss you in the sunlight, where I can see the beauty of your face, not in the dark recesses of a room that knew only suffering.”

  He retrieved her drawings from the ground, handed them to her, and lifted the torch from the sconce. “Let us find a place of light—my solar.”

  Magnus followed Reena from the room, her lips alive with the taste of him and aching to taste more. It seemed the more she kissed him, the more she wanted to kiss him. And she did not even attempt to dissuade or reason with herself.

  Was this nonsensical feeling love?

  Or was it foolishness?

  Either way she was in trouble, for at the moment she did not care—another effect of love, or foolishness?

  And what of the consequences when they entered his solar?

  What did he expect from her? What did she expect from herself? Was she ready to face the consequences of her actions? Did she not remember her own intentions? She wished to love and be loved when she chose to share intimacy with a man. No mention of love had passed between them. It was pure passion, nothing more. Is this what she wished for?

  Her pace slowed as reality cooled her emotions, and she realized there was more for her to give thought to before she shared any intimacy with him.

  Magnus eased a hand to her waist, guiding her up the stairwell and feeling her tension build with each slow step she took. He sought to ease her concern. “You will be able to draw me in the light.”

  Her step faltered slightly, though his strong hand kept her firmly in place.

  “I am eager to draw you.” She heard her own relief. Why, then, did disappointment nip at her senses?

  He opened the door to his solar and guided her with a firm hand inside. An overcast sky prevented any sunlight from entering through the windows, and the roaring fire in the hearth was the only source of light, leaving shadows to lurk in the corners.

  “We will need much more light in here if I am to draw you,” Reena said.

  “Light no candles,” came a raspy, menacing voice from the shadows.

  Reena jumped, and Magnus was quick to shove her behind him. His hand went to the hilt of the knife tucked in its leather sheath. “Show yourself.”

  “Send the woman away.”

  Reena’s hand rested on Magnus’s back, and she could feel his muscles tighten at the stern command. He was accustomed to issuing orders, not receiving them.

  “I say for the last time, show yourself or suffer the consequences.”

  A chill ran through Reena. Magnus left no doubt that he was in command. Was she prepared to watch two men battle? And what if Magnus was wounded? She suddenly was ready to defend, not herself but Magnus.

  “I remain here.”

  The strength of her voice radiated throughout the room, and Reena could have sworn she heard the intruder laugh.

  Magnus moved his hand off his knife. “Come out of the shadows.”

  Reena stepped to the side, peeking out from behind Magnus, relieved that he seemed to know the intruder.

  A laugh, a shuffle of movement, and from the shadows emerged another shadow. A man draped entirely in black. At first glance one might think him a priest, with his hood pulled down over his head so that no portion of his face was visible. But on a second look it was not a cleric’s robe he wore.

  In an instant Reena realized who stood before them, and she tensed. Whispered tales were told of him, though no identity or name was known. He was simply called the Dark One.

  Chapter 17

  “A drink?” Magnus offered, no tension evident in his voice, his body at ease as he moved away to fill three tankards of ale from the pitcher that was kept full on the small table near the window.

  It appeared as though Magnus was acquainted with the Dark One. While relieved, Reena remained where she stood, staring at the cloaked figure, her heart beating rapidly and her hands itching to draw his ominous shape. She dared not look too closely, for it was whispered that whoever looked upon his face perished from fright. He blended with the shadows so skillfully that he could be present in a room without anyone’s knowledge. And with that skill he was able to accomplish remarkable feats, appearing and disappearing without a trace and taking with him whoever he chose.

  It was whispered that kings hired him to rid them of enemies difficult to dispose of and of mistresses no longer in favor. But then there were tales of his exploits in helping the less fortunate, so few knew the truth, and the only truth truly known was that you did not want the Dark One to appear before you, for it meant that you would soon disappear.

  “You are the mapmaker.”

  His voice startled her from her thoughts. It was a harsh whisper, a mask of sorts that concealed his true voice, and Reena wondered why he hid. Was his face as hideous as believed? She suddenly realized he knew of her mapping skills.

  “You know of me?” she asked curiously.

  His voice rose above a whisper, though the harsh tone remained. “I have heard of your skills and of those who fear you.”

  “Fear me? Why would I be feared?” She actually laughed asking the question. The thought that anyone would think her a
threat was simply laughable.

  Magnus laughed along with her. “You are becoming a legend.”

  The Dark One laughed along with them, though the harsh sound prickled the skin.

  “I find it as amusing as you both do, but I do not understand,” Reena said.

  Magnus handed the tankard to the Dark One and he reached for it, his hand covered in black leather.

  Reena trembled, for there was no light to this man; there was only complete darkness.

  Magnus explained, handing Reena a tankard. “You open up the land and expand people’s knowledge. They can see before their eyes mountains, valleys, rivers and streams that they may have heard existed but never saw for themselves. Suddenly their world is not so small, and many become adventurous, wanting to see for themselves and thinking perhaps they would find a better life elsewhere.”

  “Leaving those who rule without tenants to work their lands, less men to defend property and the possibility that some other lord or landowner will grow strong with those people who migrate elsewhere,” the Dark One finished.

  “Knowledge is a powerful weapon,” Magnus said, “which is why those who rule keep the populace ignorant of the world.”

  “How very sad,” Reena said. “Knowledge, even a little, could ease much heartache.”

  Magnus raised his glass. “To three who are feared.”

  Reena smiled and raised her glass high, adding her own sentiments. “And to three who shed light on the darkness.”

  The Dark One added his opinion. “Even when it takes darkness to bring light to the world.”

  For a moment Reena detected gentleness in his voice, and she found her fear of the shadowy figure dissipating and turning to curiosity. Who was this man who seemed friend, not foe, to Magnus?

  Magnus confirmed the friendship when he turned to her. “Reena, I need time to speak with my friend alone.”

  Reena placed her tankard on the table. “Of course, and besides, I have much work to do.”

  “I will see you later,” Magnus said.

  She nodded, and as she passed the Dark One, she said, “Good day.”

  A hooded head bobbed briefly in response.

  “Reena.” Magnus stopped her as her hand touched the door. “Tell no one of his presence.”

  “As you wish.” She slipped out the door, closing it quietly behind her.

  “What are you doing here?” Magnus asked, taking a seat by the fireplace.

  The Dark One retreated to the chair in the shadowed corner of the room and slipped his hood off his head. His face could not be seen, and Magnus made no effort to look upon him.

  “My skills have been requested by someone, and I am on my way to meet with him, but I was detoured by a request from the earl of Culberry, who appears heartbroken that the woman he loves is being detained by the Legend. He wishes for me to return her to him.”

  Magnus laughed. “The fool believes he can lie to the Dark One? He is more of an idiot than I first thought.”

  “Can I assist you in this matter?”

  Magnus shook his head. “It is not necessary. Thomas watches over the woman Kilkern speaks of. She is but a piece of bait to him in his foolish trap.”

  “I can take the woman to a safe place until this matter is settled if you wish.”

  “Brigid would not go. This is her home and she is happy here and safe. Kilkern plays his game thinking he backs me into a corner, when it is I who maneuvers him into place.”

  “My offer remains.”

  “I appreciate your friendship.” Magnus leaned forward toward the shadows. “When do you come out of the darkness, my friend?”

  Silence followed for several seconds, and a much softer voice spoke. “When the pain in my heart is no more.”

  “Women and love.” Magnus shook his head. “Suffering for sure.”

  Both men laughed.

  “You pick a good woman to love,” the Dark One said.

  Magnus looked to the shadowy figure in surprise. “Is there nothing that escapes you?”

  “Nay,” the Dark One admitted. “I see all, but this was easy to see for I know you well, my friend. You never favored the ladies with weak minds or character. You looked for one who would challenge with equal strength, and although the mapmaker is small in size she possesses the strength of a warrior.”

  Magnus smiled. “She does, and she is as determined as a warrior, though her weapon of choice is a quill, which she wields with skill.”

  “So I have heard, though beware,” the Dark One warned. “There are many who would wish her talent to be theirs. These lands continue to be a mystery to many. A mapmaker would prove a powerful weapon. Then of course there is the fact that you love her.”

  Magnus shook his head, stood, retrieved the pitcher of ale from the table, and refilled their tankards before returning to his seat and placing the pitcher on the ground beside him.

  “She cares for you as well, it is there in her eyes.”

  “She thinks I better suit her friend, though I believe she is beginning to understand Brigid has no interest in me.”

  “She would step aside so that her friend could have you when she herself favors you. Friendship like that is rare.”

  “Reena risked her own life for her entire village by journeying to my home.”

  “I do not envy you, my friend. A woman with such a caring heart would do anything for the man she loves, even risk her own life.”

  The thought startled Magnus, and he was quick to respond. “She will do as I command.”

  The Dark One’s laughter sounded more amused than harsh. “You should fast make her your wife, you may then have more control that way.” He laughed harder. “Though I doubt it.”

  “She listens when I command.”

  “Every time?”

  Magnus thought to confirm his query, when he remembered how she had been struck by one of Kilkern’s men because she had gone off on her own without his permission.

  “Your hesitation is answer enough.” His laughter continued.

  “You find this amusing. One day you will find a woman such as Reena for yourself, and you will laugh no more.”

  His laughter subsided. “If I found a woman with the strength, character and honesty of Reena, I would never let her go. I would protect her with my last ounce of strength and gladly give my life for her. But we agree that women like Reena are rare and few. You have found an incomparable gem.”

  An abrupt shuffle and movement in the shadows caused Magnus to stand.

  “I remain too long. I must go.”

  “You are always welcome in my home.”

  A black-leather-clad hand emerged from the shadows. “Thank you, my friend.”

  Magnus held firm to his hand. “If ever you need me—”

  “I know where you are.” A firm handshake parted them, and Magnus knew not how the Dark One exited the room, he only knew that he disappeared. “Keep safe, my friend.”

  A winter storm set in hard and fast by midday, and most sought shelter in their homes. With sufficient warmth and food, the villagers were content. Reena draped her warm wool cloak around her and hurried out of the keep to Brigid’s cottage, Horace tailing close behind.

  She thought to keep her friend company and perhaps ease her worry concerning Kilkern, but when she arrived at the cottage she heard laughter and was surprised upon entering to see Brigid teaching Thomas to make bread. They were laughing because the large man looked quite odd with an apron around his wide girth and his thick fingers buried in dough.

  Reena recalled Magnus’s words about looking more closely at Brigid’s own dreams and desires. Watching the two, she realized the unlikely pair worked well together and, oddly enough, complemented each other.

  Thomas looked at Brigid with loving eyes, and she seemed attentive to the large man. Could they be falling in love? It was obvious they wished to be alone, though Brigid insisted she stay and have the evening meal with them. Reena declined, though Horace remained, the scent of baking bre
ad too tempting to refuse.

  Reena returned to the great hall to find it empty, and she realized most would be remaining in their cottages for the night. She felt a sense of loneliness and thought of visiting her parents or Justin. Then she realized that Justin would probably be with Maura and her parents probably were snuggled before the fire enjoying her mother’s delicious winter stew, and no doubt the children would gather round her father later and hear his tales.

  Where, then, did she belong?

  The question disturbed her, for she had always felt a strong sense of belonging and a connection to all in the village. But times had changed and she was no longer the little girl who sat in her father’s lap listening to exciting tales. She had actually created her own tales by living her life, and her life was her mapmaking and drawing.

  Both filled her days and occupied much of her nights. Why did that thought fill her with a sense of loneliness? Did she suddenly want more? More of what?

  Someone to share it with?

  Her mother and father had each other. Brigid in a sense had Thomas to protect her and care for her. Justin and Maura spent all their time together, and several of Magnus’s men had fallen in love with women in the village.

  Why did she think of this now?

  And why did her thoughts now take her to Magnus?

  He was her lord and she his servant. She mapped for him; there was much yet to be finished, and here she stood in an empty hall feeling sorry for herself. It would not do.

  She hurried off to the cook area, passing through the enclosed passageway that kept the servants safe from the harsh weather when serving meals. She heard Justin’s and Maura’s voices before she entered the room.

  Justin greeted her with a smile and a hug. “Join Maura and me for the meal. Everyone remains home.”

  Reena saw that the couple was alone, Maura the only cook remaining for the night, the others home with their families. She decided they should have their time alone.

  “I would love to, but I have much work to do and thought to fill a tray to take to my chambers.”

  Maura hurried off the bench, where she sat at a table with Justin. “I will fix a tray for you.”

 

‹ Prev