Dark Warrior

by Donna Fletcher

  She cried, aching for his arms to wrap around her, aching for this to be a nightmare that she would wake up from, aching for his love.

  She forced her sobbing to stop. Strength would be her shield and love her weapon to use to defend herself against Decimus. She would be victorious, for life without Michael would be much too empty. And if her suspicions were right Roarke would soon arrive to take her to Magnus, and she would not greet him with tears. Michael would never leave her on her own. He would always make certain she was protected.

  I will always be near.

  She dried her face with the edge of her skirt, looked around and called out, “I love you, be safe.”

  She returned to the keep, packed the last of her few meager belongings, and walked to the door. Before she closed the door behind her she took one last look around and smiled. This crumbled-down keep would always hold a special spot in her heart. She shut the door and sat on the stone wall to wait for Roarke.

  It was not long before she heard his approach. She knew his footfalls were purposely heavy, making her aware of his arrival. She liked Roarke, he was easy to talk with, kind, and trustworthy. She could understand Michael and he being friends.

  Mary stood when Roarke emerged from the woods, a broad smile on his face. He would try to cheer her, he was like that, always being in good spirits and wanting to share his mirth with others.

  “It is proud I am to accompany a brave warrior into battle,” he said once he stood in front of her.

  She forced a smile, not feeling brave, though knowing this was her destiny. The seer’s words helped.

  You will be the demise of Decimus.

  If she was right then there was hope for her and Michael.

  The day’s journey was slow, rain forcing them to seek shelter. Mary was too preoccupied to hold a conversation and Roarke seemed to understand and remained quiet. They camped early that evening due to the uncooperative weather, and after a quick meal they both slept.

  Mary woke early upset by a dream. She had dreamed that Michael lay beside her, his arm wrapped around her. She could almost feel him, hear his breathing and the steady beat of his heart. She allowed herself only a moment of sorrow.

  Her own pity would do her no good. Soon she would come face-to-face with the man who had robbed her of her parents and her life. She would need all her strength and intelligence to deal with him.

  “Do you know of Decimus?” she asked Roarke once they began walking.

  “Unfortunately I do.”

  “I would like to know all I could about him.”

  “It is always wise to know one’s enemy when entering into battle,” Roarke said.

  “And this marriage will be a battle.”

  “A silent one would be more beneficial.”

  “I thought the same myself,” she said. “The more I listen, the more I learn, the more I gain.”

  “Your freedom?” he asked with a smile.

  She laughed. “Freedom is intoxicating.” Her laughter faded. “And it is our God-given right.”

  “Aye, that it is.”

  “So tell me what you know of Decimus.”

  “His temper is what you will need to be most careful of.”

  “It is unpredictable?” she asked eager to learn all she could.

  “Extremely, no one knows what will ignite him and send him into a rage. I have heard people quake at his feet and beg for mercy without him having raised a hand. I wonder if he is feared more than the devil.”

  “How does he treat women?”

  “He treats the accused no differently, be they man, woman, or child. They repent or suffer the consequences. He believes himself on a mission for God. He will let nothing stand in his way.”

  “I stand in his way.”

  “More than you know.”

  She shook her head, confused. “I do not understand his obsession with me. I am no threat to him.”

  “Know that you are and tread lightly or you will suffer more than you thought possible.”

  “You need not worry, I will be careful.”

  “Be more than careful,” he advised. “Be aware, very aware.”

  Sleep eluded Mary that night. She tossed and turned until the sun began to rise. She rose quietly, not wanting to disturb Roarke who was snoring softly, and walked to a clearing where she could watch the sunrise.

  It was a beautiful sight, the bright orange ball looked as though it rose from the depths of the earth. It heralded the birth of a new day. Her heart quickened and she smiled. She would face today with courage and determination.

  “I love you, Michael, wherever you are, know that I love you, and keep safe.”

  Mary stood on the crest of a small hill overlooking Magnus’s keep, silently watching everyday life go by for the villagers.

  “They are good people and have been through much,” Roarke said beside her.

  “Tell me.”

  “They were serving a selfish and cruel lord when Reena boldly entered the Legend’s land to seek his help.” Roarke smiled. “And she got it, and Magnus got a wife in return. They suit each other well.”

  “I look forward to meeting her.”

  “Are you ready?”

  She took a deep breath, raised her chin, and said, “I am ready.”

  As soon as they approached the village Mary could tell she was expected. There were whispers scurrying about and sorrow-filled faces at her arrival. A few women whispered bless you while others shed tears.

  An older woman approached her and handed her a sprig of lavender. “You will not be sorry,” she said, her aging eyes filled with unshed tears.

  Her own steps faltered when she caught sight of Decimus’s men. She recognized two that had chased her and one who had tormented her when she was a prisoner. Roarke was quick to grab her arm and keep her walking steady.

  “When you entered the village you belonged to Decimus. His men know this and will not harm you.”

  But what of Decimus? What could she expect from him?

  She spotted Magnus on the top step of the keep and she hurried forward.

  “Magnus,” she cried and dropped her bundle on the steps before throwing herself into his outstretched arms.

  He gave her a hug, knowing she regarded him as a father figure, someone who had saved her and protected her these many years.

  “I am so happy to see you,” she said, fighting to keep her voice from quivering.

  “I wish the circumstances were different, Mary.”

  “It is all right, I understand.”

  Her words did not console him; they made him feel far worse than he already did. He had given his word to her parents to protect her and now he was breaking it. It did not sit well with him.

  “This is Thomas,” he said, indicating to the large man beside him. “He is my second-in-command.”

  “It is pleased I am to meet you, Mary,” Thomas said, and then tugged a beautiful blond woman from behind him. “This is my wife Brigid.”

  The woman looked on the verge of tears. “You are so very brave.”

  Then a small woman, her long dark hair in disarray and an ink smudge on her cheek, appeared out of nowhere, stepping between Mary and Brigid.

  “I am Reena, Magnus’s wife.” She held out her hand.

  Mary took it. “I am delighted to meet you.”

  Reena lowered her voice, intending her words to be for the two of them alone. “Do not worry. We will talk and plan.”

  “Reena,” Magnus said firmly.

  She turned to her husband while wrapping her arm around Mary’s. “The poor lass is starving. She requires a decent meal immediately.”

  Magnus stepped forward, taking them both by the arms and walking into the great hall of the keep. Once inside, and out of hearing range from everyone, Magnus spoke his piece.

  “I do not wish to sacrifice one of you for the other, and it is for me to see what can be done. I will not have either of you jeopardizing your safety or your lives. You both will leave this m
atter to me.”

  Mary spoke before Reena could. “You have protected me since I was young. It is time for me to defend myself. I freely made the choice to wed Decimus. It would seem he is my destiny, and you cannot take my destiny from me, Magnus.”

  Reena smiled and poked her husband in his arm. “I like her.”

  “Your parents would be proud,” he said, “but I gave my word to them and—”

  “That promise is no longer valid. I am grown and capable of taking care of myself. My parents did not expect you to watch over me for the remainder of my life, only until I had grown and could look after myself.”

  “You do not know that,” Magnus argued.

  Mary grinned. “You were my father’s student and understood his ways. Tell me, then, do I not speak the truth?”

  Magnus looked about to disagree when he stopped and shook his head. “You are truly your father’s daughter.”

  Mary stepped up beside him and kissed his cheek. “Your words mean much to me.”

  Reena reached for her hand. “You need a good, solid meal before you meet Decimus.”

  “You intend to scheme with Mary,” Magnus accused his wife and sent her a warning look that would make most men tremble. Not so with Reena.

  “I want to get to know Mary better, and I am certain she would be interested in my mapmaking skills.”

  “You are a mapmaker?” Mary asked with excitement.

  “See, husband. She is interested.”

  “And what maps have you already drawn for her, wife?”

  “None yet.”

  “I knew it,” Magnus said with an accusatory shake of his finger.

  “Mary needs to be prepared.”

  “To get herself killed?” Magnus asked, keeping his voice low though firm. “I warned you about interfering, Reena.”

  “This is true, but you said nothing of helping her.”

  Mary laughed.

  “Do not encourage her,” Magnus snapped.

  “I do not think she needs encouragement,” Mary said.

  “Nay, she is stubborn enough not to need it,” Magnus said.

  “It is understandable that he worries over your safety,” Mary said in defense of Magnus.

  “He will always protect me, so I have no need to worry.”

  “Did you not suffer in my own dungeon?” he asked, wiping the smudge from her cheek.

  “You rescued me,” she said with pride. “And”—she held up a finger to make an important point—“you forever wipe smudges off my face.”

  Mary laughed softly and was about to comment on how perfectly suited they were for each other when her eyes caught sight of a man at the far end of the great hall. He leaned against the table on the dais, crossed his arms over his chest, and stared.

  “Decimus,” she whispered.

  Chapter 20

  Magnus’s protective instincts had him moving to step in front of Mary, but his wife’s hand held him firm.

  “She will face him with courage,” Reena whispered to her husband, and they both moved aside.

  Mary approached Decimus with her head held high, though her legs trembled. He intimidated even with the distance that separated them. He was taller than she had thought him to be and his features were dark, his black hair lustrous. His garments were rich in texture and in colors that befitted royalty, gold and red. He looked fit, in fine shape for a man who did nothing but condemn and torture.

  He remained braced against the edge of the table in an arrogant stance, as though annoyed that he had to wait for her approach. The closer she got the more she realized that it was his eyes that held the most power; dark and menacing, cold and calculating, a heartless man devoid of a soul.

  “Do you intend to keep me waiting all day?”

  His voice was strong, filling the great hall with a thunderous rumble.

  Mary did not hasten her step, she could not, her legs trembled far too much; she felt lucky she was able to remain upright. To others she appeared confident and proud, and she intended to keep it that way. No one knew of her trepidation.

  She stopped a few feet in front of him. “I am Mary, you requested my presence.”

  Decimus assessed her with a cold stare, rubbed his chin, then shook his head as if he found her lacking in some way.

  Mary chose silence, knowing her tongue would only get her into trouble.

  He straightened. “I thought you might find my proposal acceptable.”

  “You gave me little choice.”

  “I was generous in my offer,” he said.

  Mary shrugged. “That is a matter of opinion.”

  He lunged at her, causing her to jump back. He halted only inches in front of her. “I will teach you obedience, and you will learn.”

  “As you say,” she said with a curt bow of her head.

  “Docile so soon.” He frowned and circled her. “You think me a fool?”

  “I do not know you, sir, therefore I cannot say for certain.”

  He leaned in close to her. “Watch your tongue, Mary, I can easily have it removed.”

  He summoned Magnus with a snap of his hand. “Have her cleaned up and brought to my bedchamber. She looks a sight covered with dirt and grime.”

  “I cannot send Mary to your bedchamber,” Magnus said adamantly. “It is not proper.

  “You challenge my authority?”

  “Your intentions,” Magnus said.

  Decimus looked ready to spew forth his anger.

  Reena sought to quell tempers. “Perhaps the solar would do.”

  Decimus gave a quick nod, then turned to Mary. “When you are made more presentable, we will talk.”

  He strode off, sniffing the air with disgust as he passed Mary.

  Reena walked up behind her husband and waited until Decimus left the hall to say, “That is one way to keep him away from you, remain disheveled.”

  “A good thought,” Mary said. “Though I expected him to demand more from me.”

  “Give him time,” Magnus warned. “He does nothing without purpose.”

  “Come with me,” Reena said. “I will see to a bath and clean garments for you.”

  Mary looked to Magnus before following Reena. “Has Decimus made mention of when he intends for the wedding to take place?”

  He shook his head. “I am sure he will speak to you of it soon.” He squeezed her arm gently. “Go eat and wash up and do not rush. Decimus will wait.”

  “Will he?” Mary asked in a way that had them all wondering.

  A tray of food and a full tub awaited her in her bedchamber. Mary wasted not a moment. She shed her garments and climbed in, a grateful sigh spilling from her lips as she sank into the hot water.

  The heat soaked into her bones; she relaxed and her mind drifted. It would be difficult keeping her feelings for the Dark One hidden. Magnus was an astute judge of character, and Reena seemed curious and not averse to asking questions. She would need to be careful.

  After eating far too much food, Mary found herself sleepy. She lay on the bed for a brief rest. She no soon as closed her eyes than she thought she heard someone whisper her name.

  It was a harsh, familiar whisper, and then she felt the familiar feel of a leather-clad hand touch her face.

  Michael.

  She instantly became concerned that he should be there. It was too dangerous, yet he stroked her warm cheek with his cool leathered touch, and it felt so very good and so very right.

  He ran his hand slowly down her body. I miss you.

  She wanted to reach out and touch him, know he was real, not a dream, but he denied her.

  Lie still, I cannot stay.

  She wanted to cry out not to leave her that he should take her with him, but even in her dream her choice remained the same.

  “Come back,” she whispered.

  I am not far.

  She reached out and took hold of his hand. He was solid, real, not a shadow. But then he was no longer a shadow to her, not since they had made love. Though facele
ss he was a man of flesh and blood.

  What did he look like?

  She wanted to see him, know him for who he was; it seemed imperative.

  She tried to turn.

  Nay!

  He denied her. Why did he deny her? Her own safety? It seemed not to matter to her. What mattered most was that she saw him for who he was.

  “Please, Michael.”

  Do as I say, and you will be safe.

  She tried to turn and felt as if someone held her down.

  “Let me see you.” She struggled with the weight that held her.

  You fight yourself. You fight the truth.

  Mary grew agitated not understanding what he meant. The more she struggled, the heavier her burden felt.

  She thought she heard him drift away and still she could not move.

  “Michael?”

  No answer, she panicked and fought against the weight that imprisoned her. She wanted to see him, know he was there, not a dream, lord she did not want it to be a dream. She wanted him there beside her.

  She woke shouting, “Do not go!” with the light wool blanket twisted around her and her hair tangled and half-covering her face. A sense of emptiness filled her. Sitting up, she tried to free herself of the blanket and gasped when she spotted a shadow near the window.

  Chapter 21

  “Missing someone?” Decimus stepped out of the shadows.

  Mary glared at him. “My parents.”

  “Your tongue is quick.”

  She amended his accusation. “My tongue is truthful.”

  He stepped closer, his dark eyes narrowing, his nostrils flaring. “You have much to learn.”

  “We all do.”

  He walked over to her, his hands grabbing her by the shoulders. “You will learn the truth once you wed me.”

  “The truth defines itself.”

  “As you will learn.” He shoved her away from him. “You have kept me waiting.”