“SAMSON! Hello!” He was jarred back to reality. “Didn’t you hear me? I said, yes, you can share our cab!”
He snapped back to present time very quickly. “Yeah! I’m sorry. I’ll make sure you get home okay and then I’ll have the driver take me to my place.”
Some ‘place’ that was. If only they knew.
It began to snow harder as they piled into the cab that pulled up to the curb, Sasha taking the front seat next to the cabbie, as Samson held open the back door so Willow could get in. Before sliding in next to her he said, “Hang on, I’ll be right back.”
He disappeared around the corner, headed toward the alleyway where they had met a few hours earlier.
“Where is he going?” Sasha asked as a look of puzzlement crossed her features. Willow shrugged, but had a nagging suspicion of exactly what he was up to.
Samson approached the dumpster to find the dog peacefully resting in the box of rags and old newspapers he’d prepared earlier. He approached cautiously, not completely certain whether the animal’s docile condition after the bite had been temporary.
“Hey buddy, how’s it going?” Samson asked, holding out his down-turned palm tentatively. The dog’s tail began to wag and it got up and came over licking his hand and then his face like it was an old friend.
“You wanna come home with me tonight?”
The dog looked at him with hopeful eyes as Samson scratched his ears and patted its head.
“I don’t know if my lady friend will appreciate it
much, but I hope she will forgive you and let me bring you along in the cab. If she doesn’t then we’ll figure out something else. C’mon.”
The dog followed after him and Willow’s suspicions were confirmed the second she saw Samson round the corner of the large brick building, with the dog following happily behind wagging its tail as if nothing happened.
Samson stepped up to the curb, and peeked inside the door of the cab. “I know this is strange…but you don’t mind if he comes with us do you? He’s perfectly fine. There’s really nothing wrong with him, I promise. I think he was just cold and hungry.”
It was a lie, but it was a one that he knew was believable. He couldn’t explain away the rabid behavior, or where all the blood had come from earlier since the dog had no self-inflicted wounds on its mouth. But he hoped she’d forgotten about that part and wouldn’t notice.
Willow looked at the dog in both fear and sympathy. She wasn’t sure what to do.
“Please?” Samson begged.
Sasha looked terrified in the front seat. Willow shrugged and finally said, “I guess so.” And before the words escaped her lips, the dog bounded into the back seat and plopped down next to her, resting its warm head in her lap. The poor thing was so thin.
She was actually feeling pretty scared, but soon discovered the dog only wanted some comfort and a warm place to lay down. Before long she was stroking the soft fur on its head and the dog licked her hand, grateful for the affection it had long been without, living a life in the streets with little food and no companionship.
Samson slipped into the cab next to the dog stroking its back. “See? He’s fine now. I know it’s hard to believe, but he’s just a big baby.”
She wanted to be mad but it was hard to after looking down at the love-starved creature nestled in her lap…and Samson’s disarming smile.
“It’s okay. It’s not his fault,” she admitted. A huge gust of wind reminded her of the need to get home as quickly as possible.
“Man, it is really coming down out there. We need to go to Winston Terrace please….1201,” Willow said.
The cabbie nodded.
“Everyone going to the same place?”
“No, he’s going to make sure we get in okay, then you can take him and Furball here, home.”
She smiled at Samson as he slid in closer, reached across the dog and took her hand in his own.
“Is it okay if I hold your hand? And no, I’m not presuming anything else. I’m just holding your hand.”
She nodded, smiling as she rested her head back on the seat. Maybe that second margarita was kicking in. It had been a strong one. The heat in the cab and the warm dog next to her just felt so cozy.
“So, Samson….tell me more about your business,” she said.
“Well, there’s not much to tell. I buy antiques. Clean them up and sell them. Particularly old stone pieces and coins….statues. And gargoyles.” He suppressed a smirk on the last added phrase.
She smiled and nodded trying so hard to open even one eye so she could let him know she was paying attention and was interested. But the warmth of the cab was so inviting. His fingers entwined in her own were so…..
A second later Willow was sound asleep. Sasha was still awake in the front and babbling to the cabbie. He listened to their conversation about weather, and job markets, other trivial pursuits and other small talk. They seemed so engaged that it didn’t matter that he wasn’t chiming in.
Samson figured it was just as well, and it was also just as well that Willow was asleep. This way she couldn’t ask too many questions during the ride because he needed more time to get his story together.
He looked over at her there leaned back so peacefully. How much he envied her right now. He’d just about forgotten what it felt like to sleep…that dream-filled nirvana where the mind goes while the body is in slumber. He’d been robbed of that sweet pleasure, while being allowed so many others in the few precious days that he had.
And yet, those pleasures were exactly what had gotten him into this fine mess in the first place. The selfish whims, lying and the cold heart he had so callously flaunted would haunt him for an apparent eternity.
His mind traveled back in time remembering how it all had come about.
C HAPTER FOUR
1511 A.D.
“I love you, Dania,” Samson lied as he led the beautiful young woman to the back of the barn nestled in the field that was part of his father’s estate. He had waited for this moment for some time…and it had been quite some time since he’d last seen her. She seemed even more beautiful than he remembered some months before. And now, his only thought was to get her alone, in the hopes of convincing her to partake in the pleasures of the flesh which he so easily took for granted but that she had not yet known. Dania smiled.
“Samson, my lord…you know I am not going to lay with you. Haven’t we been over and over this throughout the seasons? I do love you, though. With all my heart.”
She reached out and moved a stray lock of his long hair from his forehead and the honesty in her eyes almost made him feel guilty for a second. But only for a second. He stopped her hand as she reached out, using it to pull her closer to him.
“My sweet Dania, you know that I would never desert you. None that I have ever known can compare to you. I honestly believe you are the one who is truly meant for me,” he lied again, remembering the tavern maid he’d been carousing with just the night before. That was his entire life, carousing, drinking and bedding any willing woman he could lure there. He felt nothing for any of them and didn’t believe in the foolish chants and fires of her pagan world nor of God and Heaven either. Debauchery was his religion.
“Samson, I cannot and will not. Just because I am not born of a wealthy family…as you are, does not mean that I have no pride for myself. You know you can never marry me. I am no more than the daughter of a serf and you are the son of a wealthy baron. Mayhap we should not see each other any- more.”
Samson stood there as she spoke realizing that she was not going to give in this time any more than she had every other. He rubbed his chin thinking through on how to respond to her statement. He certainly didn’t want to end this…at least not yet!
They’d known each other since childhood when they had secretly met one afternoon when he and his father had come into the village. He had marveled at the sights all around of the small hovels, open fires and people milling about…so unlike the confines of his sheltered
life at his families estate.
Their carriage stopped as his papa had gotten out to check on the new sword the smithy was working on for him. A special weapon he’d commissioned, and although he didn’t usually deal with the peasants directly, in this particular case the blacksmith was the finest in all the surrounding lands and he wanted to check his work personally. And so when his papa had gone inside the small hut, Samson had gotten out of the carriage. He’d not wandered far when a little girl approached him and offered him her hand. She motioned for him to come play and so he had run off with her.
They ran hand in hand visiting several small homes where the girl seemed to be known and welcome, and, sampling the culinary wares that some of the elder ladies had cooking in pots, or fowl roasting over an open flame. One had offered them some freshly baked bread which they gladly devoured before running back into the small group of grassy hills behind the village.
They eluded the adults for several hours and she’d shown him such wonders as he was never allowed to see in his sheltered life as they walked freely in the pasture and picked flowers, climbed trees and drank from the stream, playing hide and seek and tag. No servants, no parents, no pompous noble’s children. Just the simple pleasures of life with this lovely and simple peasant girl.
When the search party finally found them they feigned being lost so as not to get into trouble themselves and Samson had made sure to tell his papa that he was the one who’d left the carriage of his own free will, so that Dania’s family would not be held accountable and punished.
As he’d walked grudgingly back to the carriage with his father, he broke free from his father’s hand to run to hug the pretty young girl who’d shown him this day of sweet freedom. He pulled her close to him and whispered in her ear.
“I’ll steal away to be with you again. I swear.”
She smiled and nodded and in that moment each of them knew that they would be friends for a long time to come, despite their station in life. He would sneak away and meet her in the field that was part way to the village from his father’s estate as often as he could….several times a year. And they’d walked the fields, enjoyed the woods and lay back against the green earth on sunny days to marvel at the shapes of the clouds in the sky with all the wonder of a child’s eyes.
The seasons had come and gone and both had grown into their teen years…he with long sandy locks, turquoise eyes and a strong, well-muscled body…and she a lovely nymph with luscious curves, a sweet bee-stung pout and silky hair that would drive a man to his wits end at the sight of her.
They soon found themselves well into adulthood, with him acting the rogue, to his parents dismay, and long past an age where he should have married and settled down, and her still holding her purity for some pagan fanaticism that he hoped to rid her of, at least for an afternoon.
He was used to women throwing themselves at his feet. He had no lack of female attention from every corridor, and so he supposed her refusal to bed him was what made him want her even more.
And although he felt a certain fondness for his sweet childhood friend, as he’d reached manhood, he’d come to realize that she, like all the rest, was no more than another female who had blossomed from a wide eyed, fair-haired child into womanhood. And yet, something drew him to her like a moth to a flame, and despite her refusal to sleep with him, he still met with her often.
And although he would grudgingly put up with their platonic friendship just so he could see her, it never stopped him from trying to convince her to share his bed on numerous occasions.
He’d worked on breaking down her defenses every time they’d met….and at first he convinced her to allow him a few chaste kisses. That had gone well, and so he’d continued his pursuit. The thrill of the hunt had driven him to madness. The last time he’d seen her a few months ago, those kisses had turned quite passionate, and although she protested, he knew damned well that she desired him.
Of course, he never fooled himself that she could ever be more than one of many dalliances, for he could never marry one of such low station…nor would he want to since he would never settle for being faithful to one woman. That was out of the question. But dear God, she was insanely beautiful as his loins very often reminded him. Not only that, she was untouched. He burned for her and thought he would surely lose his mind if he couldn’t have her just once!
“Samson! Are you even listening to me?” She stood looking at him with her hands on her hips.
“You know as well as I do that we can never be together. And I cannot give myself to you unless we are married and you become one of my people. Your family would never permit it.”
He was jarred back to the moment and realized he
needed to come up with something good if he was finally going to woo her into his bed.
“Well, perhaps I care nothing for what my family wants for me. What if I only want you?” He stared at her long and hard.
Over time, he’d tried everything else and failed… except the downright lie of promising to leave his family and convert to whatever foolish beliefs her clan would demand. Lying had never bothered him before, so why should it now? Yes, she had been a friend, and she was sweet and trusting…but his body was speaking much louder than his mind right now, so he pushed away any small twinge of guilt that was trying desperately to surface. Dania looked at him with pleading eyes.
“Please do not say such things to me unless you truly mean them, because I love you, Samson. I do. And although the Church has worked very hard to get rid of us, you know my mama still follows the old ways…the pagan ways, and I must take her place someday. I cannot do so unless I remain pure or marry one of her choosing...one who has passed our sacred rites. Would you be willing to give up this life and do that?” She sighed. “You know as well as I that you can not and would not. This simply cannot be.”
Samson pulled her close, his heart thudding in his chest. His lips moved to hers and he cradled her head in his hands as he worked his way down the side of her neck. He knew this time he wasn’t taking “no” for an answer as he had so many times before. He knew what he needed to say.
“Perhaps you underestimate me. Perhaps I would do anything that you asked of me.” The words spilled from his lips like honey.“Anything. I love you Dania.”
He worked his way back up to her cheek and breathed the words against her earlobe. He put his forehead to hers as his blue eyes bored into her own before his lips found hers again and then trailed back down the length of her soft throat and he could feel her pulse pounding there as he tasted her skin. She was his at last and he knew it.
She wanted to push him away, but his lips felt so delicious that she could not find her voice anymore than she could fight back as he scooped her up and carried her the long way back up the hill to his house and to his chamber, his face buried in the soft sweet smell of her hair and bosom as he carried her.
And as he savored every curve of her sweet body, she held on to those words that bore such precious promise…that he was willing to become one of her people. But she also knew the chance she took in asking such a thing of him, as her people were lucky that they were even allowed to practice the old ways, much less push them on someone else.
For, little did Samson or anyone else know how much more the Druidic way involved than simple worship of the sun and seasons. Nor did they comprehend the power of the blood of the Tuatha de D’nann, the true mythic rulers of Ireland, which ran through her mother’s veins. And she knew she would surely be branded a witch were they to ever find out.
After they had shared their sweet hour of passion, and her head was resting on his chest, she said, “So then, you did mean what you said?” She sat up and looked him in the eye. “Samson by doing what we’ve just done….I have given up everything for you unless we marry and you take the rites. I love you, and you said that you would do anything. Did you not?” He hesitated before he spoke.
“Surely my sweet…I mean…well, you know, we say things in the heat of t
he moment.” He brushed the hair back from her eyes, watching them well up with tears as the realization of his words hit her hard in the center of her chest.
She pushed his hand away as a look of unforgiving hurt crossed her features..
“Dania. Surely you cannot think that I could give up all of this for you…for a villager’s daughter even if I wanted to? My family would never allow it.”
“Samson. Do you love me? Have you ever loved me?” “Dania….” His voice trailed off.
Her eyes grew misty as her gaze bore into his own. “Answer the question.”
He looked at her in silence.
“I must leave,” she said. “I’d wager to say that we will not meet again.” Tears fell down her cheeks.
“Dania. I can never love just one woman. Even if you were of my station that would be so. And I simply cannot marry you or take your oaths, even if I wanted to…you must understand.”
“Samson, I do understand. You are strong and handsome and so fair of form as to rival the Gods themselves. And yet, you have a heart of stone and your blood runs as cold as the stream in winter. You know what this means…what you have done! I have lost. my rights to take my mama’s place as the leader of our people. I told you this can not be. You did not listen and in fact you spoke words of doing whatever was asked of you.”
“You will get over it, my sweet. I am but one of man
that you will know until you find a man you will settle with. But perhaps what you ask is too much for most?”
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