Warriors Of Legend

by Kathryn Le Veque, Kathryn Loch, Dana D'Angelo

  ***

  Micah entered the small room in the stable where Tobin bunked with the other hands. His shoulder pounded mercilessly, only adding to his vile temper. By the holies, what was going on? He couldn’t believe Tobin had just tried to kill him. Micah had been kind to the lad, more so than any other lord. He gave Tobin permission to work on his illuminations. Although he had his doubts about Tobin’s sincerity, Micah had not ordered him locked away or the truth beaten from him. He even allowed Kate to give Tobin a more gentle punishment for fighting rather than order a good thrashing.

  Micah’s gaze swept the room, stopping on Tobin’s bunk. He spotted a small wooden box underneath. Micah hauled the box out and set it on the bunk, the boy’s words tumbling through his head.

  He will kill you!

  How could Tobin believe Micah would ever harm Kate?

  Sarah had a vision.

  Could the lad have believed the misguided words of a teasing strumpet and acted only to protect his baroness? It was farfetched but Sarah obviously had a talent for manipulating young lads.

  He knows of your plan, lady, flee while you can.

  What plan?

  Micah shook his head. Should he give credence to the words of a boy who had just tried to kill him?

  Micah sorted through the box and found a large amount of parchment, all with drawings. He flipped through them, again marveling at the lad’s talent. There were more simple practice sketches, many of them with letters of the alphabet. He handed them to John. “It’s a shame so much talent must go to waste now,” Micah said. “I would have been better served if I had sent him to the abbey. If the boy already knows his letters, the priests could have focused his talents to better things other than trying to murder his baron.”

  “Aye,” John grunted as he and Hubert looked at the drawings.

  “Who taught him the letters?” Hubert asked.

  Micah shrugged. Another parchment, folded into a small square and shoved into the corner of the box, caught his eye. He scowled and pulled it out, carefully opening it.

  You must be cautious. If Micah discovers us I fear for my life. Since the poisoning attempt against him was bungled you must come up with a better plan. I do not know how long my pretense at loving him will keep his suspicions at bay.

  Baroness Kate de Montfort

  The note was in Kate’s handwriting.

  The breath squeezed out of Micah’s lungs as his heart withered into ash. His hands shook as shock and torment shredded through him. This could not be! Every fiber of his being fought to deny it. Kate could not be behind the plot to murder him.

  Tobin’s voice echoed in Micah’s head again. He knows of your plan, lady, flee while you can.

  Impossible! Kate had said she loved him.

  Love is a lie!

  Micah flinched as the voice he could not silence drove a dagger through him.

  The letter matched Kate’s handwriting exactly. There was no other explanation. Micah should have known, he should have listened to his instincts. Love really was a lie.

  Micah slowly straightened, a fury bordering on madness seething through him.

  John looked at him and stepped back. “Micah, what’s wrong?”

  He stood and shoved the parchment into John’s hands. “Sarah’s vision was correct,” he snarled, unable to recognize his own voice. “I have discovered the plot.” He sucked in a deep breath.

  John quickly read the note with Hubert peering over his shoulder. Their faces lost color at the same time.

  “This is impossible,” John whispered.

  “Aye,” Hubert said tightly. “The baroness would never do anything like this.”

  Micah fought to curb his rage and folded his arms across his chest. His muscles coiled so tightly that they trembled. “You see the evidence written in Kate’s hand. What else can this be? She has every reason to want me dead.” He snatched the letter from John and tried to push past him.

  “Micah, wait,” John said, stepping in front of him again. “You don’t actually believe this do you?”

  The demon of Micah’s past broke free. It hurled him into a sickening spiral of agony – the agony of knowing love again proved a farce. He had been played for a fool. The pain stripped him of coherent thought and left only bleeding rage.

  “Of course I believe it. After all that’s happened, it makes sense…too much sense.”

  John stared at him in horror. “But Kate cared for you when you were poisoned. You survived only because of her ministrations.”

  “Kate also admitted to her use of Hemlock and Bryony Root. The Savin Oil came from her herb bag. She sat the wine on the table and she discovered Sarah. What if they had been working together?”

  It was Providence, Micah, nothing I did. Kate’s voice whispered in memory. You are too stubborn to die.

  His spirit threatened to shatter, spewing pieces of itself in a myriad of colors and light. Micah saw his uncle standing above him, sword raised for the death stroke. This time it landed, but it was Kate who struck him through the heart.

  “But MacLeary worked his own deviltry,” John argued. “He ordered Kate’s abduction. You know he wants you dead.”

  Pain lanced through his skull. Micah scrambled after the tiny shreds of his soul, fighting to hold on to a small part of his sanity. He battled to shove the demon back from whence it came. But it flayed at his heart and clawed at his mind.

  I only performed my duties, the merchant had said. The lady sent Laird MacLeary a letter, begging him to save her from you…

  “What if the abduction was only a ruse in order for Kate to develop her plan of treachery with MacLeary?” The sickening pit of grief and fury drew him into its deadly embrace. Nay! Nay! This cannot be! Micah’s heart screamed, threatening to rip itself in half.

  He gazed at the letter again. I do not know how long my pretense at loving him will keep his suspicions at bay.

  “She said she loved me,” he whispered.

  Kate had lied.

  Waves of anguish rolled over him, destroying his heart like rotten wood, leaving broken emptiness in its wake. Micah shuddered, clinging only to the resolve that had hardened him in the past.

  “She does love you, Micah.”

  Lies! All lies! Micah closed his eyes, remembering the passion he and Kate shared. Despite his best efforts, and the promises he made to himself, Kate wormed her way into his heart. His agony was as painfully real as when his uncle tried to kill him. But it was all a lie. Micah had given Kate his heart and she only wanted him dead.

  Now he understood his plaguing doubts. He had ignored his instincts, wanting so much to believe in Kate. Even after he swore to himself it would never happen again.

  “I don’t believe you are actually considering this,” John said tightly. “Why would she ally with MacLeary?”

  “With me dead she would have her inheritance and my garrison. My men would undoubtedly remain loyal to my wife, if they believed I had been murdered by MacLeary. They would defend Appleby in memory of me. They will keep Kate safe and she will have everything she wants.”

  “Dear God, Micah, how can you say this? She carries your child.”

  “Aye. If I die, she has an heir. Henry’s laws also state a widow with heirs will not be forced into marriage if she did not wish it. If Kate bears a child not of MacLeary blood, she forever pulls Appleby out of the laird’s reach. Even the Scottish church will not support him. She is playing both ends. I will be dead and MacLeary defeated.”

  “Micah—”

  “The letter is signed by her and clearly in her handwriting! What is worse, I fell into her trap like a besotted puppy. Now stand aside.”

  John moved but Hubert, grim faced and tight lipped, did not.

  “Hubert, get out of my way.”

  “Kate did not do this.”

  “Mind your place, huntsman.”

  Hubert bristled, his eyes flashing green fire.

  Micah stared at him. He had never seen the huntsman so furious
. “Are you in league with her?” Micah asked, his voice soft but deadly.

  Hubert lifted his lip in a snarl. “You know I am loyal to you. Who else would be daft enough to stand and keep you from making the biggest mistake in your life?”

  “My mistake was believing in Kate.” He took a step toward the door.

  “Micah,” Hubert snapped grabbing his arm. “Listen to me, man.”

  His hackles rose. How dare this insolent pup call him by name and lay a hand on him. “Remove your hand or I will remove your head.”

  Hubert released him, his eyes narrowing. “Remove my head if you will but I will die knowing Micah de Montfort cares nothing for the truth.”

  Micah wrapped his fingers tightly around the hilt of his dagger on his belt. “I should kill you where you stand.”

  Hubert refused to be intimidated, his body as taut as a bowstring. “The Lord de Montfort I joined and fought for was a demanding leader but he always fought for truth. He never turned his back on it no matter how painful. If I no longer fight for that lord then it is better I die now.”

  Micah’s rage and pain continued to fog his reason. He paused and stared at Hubert. Fury flashed in Hubert’s eyes. He refused to back down, even to his lord. Damn this huntsman. Micah should have never allowed him to join his army. He proved too independent, too surly, too honest. Strange, those were the exact reasons why Micah liked the man.

  Micah’s resolve almost crumbled but he looked again at the letter. It was Kate’s handwriting, he knew for a fact. He had seen her script on various items many times while running the keep’s daily activities. His shredded heart hardened. “Stand aside, Hubert.”

  “God’s wounds, Micah, you will condemn an innocent woman and lose all you have gained.”

  “Gained”? Micah roared. “I have gained nothing but a poisoning, a dagger in my shoulder, and a wife who is a murderous Delilah.”

  Hubert clenched his jaw. “Then you are blind. May God help you, Baron, for I no longer will.” He spun on his heel and left.

  Micah’s shoulders sagged and doubt ripped him in twain. Had Kate tried to kill him? Nay, please, nay! This cannot be happening. John and Hubert’s words echoed in his head, confusing him even more. They adamantly believed in Kate’s innocence and would not give their faith rashly. What if they were right? What if he was about to condemn an innocent woman?

  “Kate did not do this, Micah,” John said softly. “For the love of God, listen to your heart, man!”

  “I can’t, John,” he whispered. “I listened to my heart once before and it almost destroyed me.”

  “Nay, Micah, if you do not listen then this will destroy you. You love Kate and that scares the hell out of you.”

  Micah flinched then straightened his shoulders and strode to the keep with John behind him.

  “What are you going to do, Micah?”

  “I don’t know.” He threw open the door and it banged against the wall. “Kate,” he snapped. “A word with you.” He hurried up the stairs without bothering to look back. Instead of going to the solar, he entered Kate’s old room.

  A moment later, she followed him through the door. “Micah?” She blinked up at him, her gray eyes innocently wide. “Micah, what’s wrong?”

  He fought to control himself as his vision tinted red.

  ***

  Kate stared at Micah, the muscles in his jaw twitched and his eyes flashed cold fury. Her heart lurched in alarm.

  “Micah?”

  He waved a paper before her. “I have discovered your plot. Did you think I was so stupid…so besotted with you that I wouldn’t?”

  Kate’s mind scrambled but none of this made sense. Fear and confusion coiled through her. “What are you talking about?”

  “Still playing the innocent maiden?” Micah thrust the letter into her hands. Kate quickly scanned it, her eyes widening in horror.

  It was her handwriting.

  Her mind reeled and she almost collapsed. How could this be? She had not written the note. But the evidence brutally stared back at her. The script was so perfect to hers, even she could not tell the difference. Someone else must have done this. But who…why…how? How could she hope to convince Micah otherwise? Kate had to find a way. She would never do anything like this, she loved him too much.

  “Is it not your handwriting?”

  “It looks—”

  Micah strangled a cry of fury, clenching his fists.

  Kate gasped and lurched back. “I did not write this, Micah,” she whispered, tears gathering in her eyes. “Sweet Mary, I would never do anything like this.”

  Micah stepped forward, his blue eyes cold with hatred.

  “Please believe me, I would never betray you.”

  He winced, his hand going to his side as if the old wound pained him. Abruptly, he turned his back on her, his head bowed. His anger seemed to fade. “I want to believe you, Kate,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with anguish. “But I cannot explain this letter.”

  “I didn’t write it, Micah. I know how this looks but I would never do anything to hurt you. I know you don’t believe in love anymore but I do love you, Micah.”

  ***

  Micah’s spirit recoiled and he hesitated.

  I do love you, Micah.

  Those words shredded his heart more. Dear God, how had he become so vulnerable? He tried to think through his fog of hurt and anger. Kate would say anything to free herself – just like Amaury had groveled for his life.

  He turned and stared at her gray eyes, clearly seeing the anguish and terror within her. Although Micah did not give credence to superstition, he wondered if Kate had somehow managed to bewitch him.

  A part of Micah wondered if Kate deserved every lash she had received, every scar on her delicate flesh, every instant of hatred permanently marked on her soul and her body.

  But his heart shrank at the thought. He couldn’t stop himself as his fingers touched her cheek. She stood before him trembling, tears pouring from her beautiful gray eyes. Micah never knew why but he pulled her into his arms and held her. For a moment they were equal in every respect, equal in their heartbreak and sorrow.

  Kate clung to him, fighting back sobs. Micah couldn’t stop the agony shredding his soul. Doubt and mistrust gnawed at him. What could he do? Did he dare believe her?

  “I…I must think on this,” he whispered and pulled away. “You will stay in here until I decide.”

  The spark in Kate’s eyes faded and her shoulders slumped.

  Micah walked slowly to the door, each step more difficult than the last. The floor boards creaked under his boots, as if the noise announced the destruction of his spirit.

  Kate turned. “Micah, please, please believe me.”

  He hesitated at the door. Frozen with indecision. “Kate, I want nothing more.” He lifted his head and stared at her. “With you, I actually began to hope my dreams were real.”

  She swallowed hard. “They are real, Micah.” Kate drew a shuddering breath and touched her chest. “What I feel for you is stronger than anything I have ever known. I know you feel it too. That’s why this is tearing you apart right now.”

  Anguish again cut through him. Love is a lie! He stepped out of the room. “I will give you my decision tomorrow.” Slowly, he closed it behind him. Micah knew an eternity of torture that ended when his keys turned the lock in cold, metallic finality.

  But the torture did not truly end. It only grew.

  Micah plodded to his room and poured a cup of wine with a shaking hand. Wine was the only way to forget right now, until the ache dulled with time. Pain tightened his chest, and for a moment, he feared his heart would stop. A single tear rolled down his cheek. What was he going to do now?

  The torment within him only grew in viciousness. He fought to keep from inhaling the sweet scent Kate had left in the room. The scent of roses clung to the pillows and bedding…the scent of desolate dreams and a dead heart.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The next morning, Joh
n strode to Micah’s room, infuriated. The guests had left at dawn, their tongues wagging about the disastrous revel. The old lies and rumors of how Kate, alone, managed to survive MacLeary rose again. The people were certain she had been behind the plot to murder Micah.

  John snarled a mental curse. He knew Kate would never do anything to hurt Micah but he remained alone in his opinion. Only Hubert agreed with him, and once again, John could not find the blasted huntsman.

  While John would much prefer to have an ally, he decided he would do this alone if he must. He had to get Micah to see reason. John knew Kate loved Micah. He cursed the letter and Tobin. Betrayal plagued Micah, and he proved ill equipped to handle it. Had this happened any other way – no doubt Micah wouldn’t have reacted so violently. But now Kate suffered and Micah had lost his faith.

  John beat his fist against on the door. He knew Micah had been drinking all night.

  “Who is it?” Micah snapped.

  “John.”

  “Go away.”

  John clenched his teeth and opened the door, closing it firmly behind him. “Not until you listen.”

  Micah, his eyes bloodshot, glared at him. “Insurrection again?”

  “Be silent,” John snapped, his anger close to the breaking point. “I’ve never known you to play the fool, Micah, ‘til now.”

  Micah flinched and took another drink from his cup. “I find, in spite of myself, I am willing to entertain any theories of the letter.”

  John arched an eyebrow, surprised Micah might be open to other possibilities. Unfortunately, John could not begin to explain the letter. “We must find the truth, Micah. I know Kate did not betray you.”

  “How can you be so sure, John? You saw the evidence.”

  “I also saw evidence of her love for you. When she thought you were dying, she wouldn’t leave your side.”

  Micah snorted. “You probably saw her trying to kill me.”