Dark Warrior

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Dark Warrior Page 22

by Donna Fletcher

Mary hurried along the stone wall, unplaiting her hair and pulling her blouse out of her skirt. She had to appear different from the woman who had been seen hugging a man. She returned through the kitchen and entered the great hall at the same time her husband did.

  Silence filled the hall and his warriors stared at her, some with their mouths agape. Edmond stared but she realized there was no recognition in his eyes.

  “Your whereabouts, wife,” Decimus demanded. His smoldering eyes warned he was on the verge of erupting.

  She had thought of an excuse, though she knew it not an adequate one. “I went exploring the fortress and found myself lost.”

  “Did I not order you to remain in your room?” he asked approaching her.

  “I grew bored.” She remained firm in her stance, showing no fear, and caught several of his men snickering at her.

  “You dare to disobey me?”

  His anger was about to erupt and she was not certain what he would do. She backed away from him.

  “Do not move away from me.”

  She stood where she was.

  “You will learn obedience.”

  “Aye, my lord,” she said, bowing her head in submission. He was much too angry to attempt reason. Acquiescence was her only choice.

  “When I order you to do something you will do it without question. I care not how bored you grow, my word is law and you will obey.”

  Silence was her only defense.

  “I will not tolerate blatant disobedience.”

  “I am sorry, my lord,” she said attempting to appease him.

  “Sorry means nothing if it is offered without truth.”

  He accused her of lying. He did not trust her and that could prove dangerous for her.

  “I am sorry,” she reaffirmed more strongly. “I have yet to learn the ways of a good, obedient wife. I ask your forgiveness and patience with me. I will attempt to do better.” She bowed her head once again.

  “Your apology will teach you nothing,” he said. “Punishment will.”

  Her heart stilled for a moment, fearing his punishment may be severe enough to harm her unborn babe.

  Mary waited for him to dismiss her, but instead he ordered her to sit in a chair near the hearth. She was grateful for the fire’s warmth. Her soaked garments chilled her to the bone and she had begun to tremble. She huddled close to the fire, the heat helping to calm her shivers, though not her concerns. What punishment would Decimus inflict on her? Would it harm her unborn babe? Her disturbing thoughts grew along with her fear.

  Young lad after young lad was marched before Decimus and Edmond, and the large man shook his head at each one, until he finally cried out.

  “This is him, this is the lad who tricked me.”

  Mary turned wide eyes on the young man and noticed that his clothing was similar to the clothing she had worn.

  “You are sure?” Decimus asked.

  “Yes, and if you give him to me I will get a confession from him.”

  Good lord, she could not let the horrified young man suffer for what she had done.

  “I have done nothing,” the young man said trembling. “I have tended the horses. One is ready to birth and I have seen to her care.”

  “You lie.” Edmond spat at him. “You were in the dungeon.”

  Another young man stepped forward. “John speaks the truth, my lord. He has been with the mare all day. He has never left her side.”

  Decimus turned to Edmond. “You will know more pain than is possible if you lie to me and accuse an innocent young man to save yourself.”

  “He looks like the lad,” Edmond said contritely.

  “You may go,” Decimus said to the two young men, and they scurried out of the hall as fast as possible.

  He ordered his men to continue searching the grounds and the fortress, though he told them that he believed Roarke long gone. He ordered Edmond to wait in his solar and then he pointed Mary toward the staircase.

  “Our bedchamber.”

  Mary was led up the stairs, trying desperately to calm her worries. She had the unborn babe to consider, and she must do whatever necessary to keep him from being harmed.

  After closing the door, Decimus descended on her with a rage. “Did you have anything to do with this man Roarke’s escape?”

  Chapter 30

  Mary placed her hand to her chest as if in shock. “My lord, how can you ask me that?”

  “Do not play games with me.” He grabbed her by the arms. “You are soaking wet.”

  “And chilled.” She kept her demeanor calm.

  “Take your clothes off,” he ordered sharply.

  He released her, went to the bed, pulled the blanket off, and returned to her.

  Panic rose inside her. Did he intend for them to consummate their wedding vows now? She was cold, exhausted, and had little strength left to protest, not that she could. It was her wifely duty; she had no choice. With slow, trembling hands she tugged at the ties of her blouse, praying for courage.

  He shook his head, dropped the blanket, and rid her of everything but her nightshift. He stared at her, his eyes so heated they should have warmed her but instead a shiver raced through her. He wrapped her in the blanket, securing her arms in a tight cocoon.

  She was unable to move, her arms taut against her sides. She felt trapped and vulnerable like a prisoner with no chance to defend.

  “You think to make a fool of me? You think I believe your lies that you were exploring the castle? Do you wish to be punished?”

  She remained firm in her lie. “I speak the truth.”

  “I think not,” he raged. “I think you helped the prisoner to escape.”

  Fear prickled her skin, but she refused to cower to his anger. She had to remain strong and convince him she had nothing to do with Roarke’s escape. “I did no such thing. Why would I?”

  “Because you are a fool,” he said with a near shout.

  “You are the fool for believing me capable of such a task.”

  “Capable?” He all but laughed. “It takes strength, courage, and fearlessness to escape and you have proven to me that you possess all three. You did, after all, escape my prison.”

  “With help,” she reminded him.

  “Exactly,” he said with a smile that chilled her. “You were helped, so now you help another. Is that what the Dark One taught you? To risk your life for someone of no importance?”

  “I did not risk my life.”

  “You risked more than you know,” he said, his tone threatening. “You think I will not punish you?”

  He pushed the chair closer to the fire and with a push and a shove forced her to sit. “Think on what your foolishness will cost you.”

  He stormed out of the room slamming the door shut behind him.

  She shivered, then loosened her arms and hugged the blanket tightly around her. What had she done? Had she placed her unborn child in harm’s way? Would Decimus feel it necessary to punish her to save face in front of his men? She could not even use her pregnancy to prevent torture for then he would know she had been with another man.

  Good lord, what had she done?

  “Mary.”

  She turned and quickly searched for Michael.

  “Where are you?” she asked anxiously.

  The dark figure stepped out from the shadows.

  “Are you all right?”

  She ran to him, throwing herself into the safety of his strong arms.

  He embraced her fiercely.

  “Oh, Michael. I have been so foolish,” she said, holding on to him and never wanting to let go.

  “Tell me what is wrong.”

  “I helped Roarke to escape. I had to. He would have suffered greatly if I had not set him free.”

  He eased her away from him but held her arms firmly. “You should not have taken such a dangerous chance. I would have helped him.”

  She shook her head. “He was badly hurt. He needed to escape then or he would never have survived.”

&n
bsp; “And what if you were caught?”

  “I gave it no thought,” she said. “It was something I had to do and now . . .” She pulled away from him, her eyes round with fright. “Oh, Michael, I am a fool. Decimus threatens to punish me and I fear for the safety of our unborn babe.”

  He made no move, nor spoke one word. He stilled in silence and remained so for several moments.

  Mary grabbed his arm. “I am sorry to have told you like this, but we must do something to protect our babe. I cannot bear the thought of losing your child and I cannot convince Decimus it is his since we have not been intimate. I know not what to do. I only know our child needs protecting. You must do something,” she pleaded with trembling lips. “You must save our babe.”

  He yanked his arm free of her and with a flourish that caused Mary to take several steps away from him, he grabbed hold of his black robe and with one full sweep he pulled it off him and tossed it aside, his gloves following.

  Decimus.

  She choked on the name that refused to spill from her lips. Decimus stood before her in his rich finery, his glittering rings and his dark eyes glaring.

  “You tricked me,” she said, believing herself ten times the fool for not realizing that her new husband was a devious and spiteful man.

  “Mary—”

  She backed away from him. Her hand stretched out in front of her to keep him at a distance. “Do not touch me. You are pure evil.”

  “Mary,” he said again, his voice gruff.

  Her eyes turned wide. He sounded so very much like Michael.

  “It is me—Michael.”

  She shook her head, confused. “Michael? Decimus?”

  He approached her slowly. “We are one and the same.”

  She shook her head harder. “I do not understand.”

  He made no move to reach out to her, for the nearer his approach the farther she moved away from him. “Michael, the Dark One, is Decimus. We are one.”

  The back of her legs hit the edge of the bed and she gratefully lowered herself down to sit. Unable to prevent the tears that filled her eyes from falling, she wept.

  Michael was instantly at her side, on his knees, grasping hold of her hand. “I am sorry I upset you with my threats. But I was angry that you risked your life when I should have been here to help Roarke. I worried even more when I thought that you might be with child and it was not only your life in jeopardy.”

  She could not stop shaking her head. It made no sense to think all along she had been with Decimus. He had rescued her, protected her, and loved her. “I do not understand any of this, nor do I know if I should believe you.”

  He squeezed her hand tightly. “Close your eyes, Mary, and listen to me.”

  She stilled her head and stared at him.

  “I know it is difficult for you to understand. I have placed a heavy burden on you and one that could prove harmful, but I ask for your trust.”

  She looked upon the eyes of a man she thought vile and yet she heard the voice of the man she loved with all her heart.

  “I know not what to do. I hear Michael, yet I see Decimus.” She shivered.

  He held her hand firmly. “I understand your apprehension, but give me a moment to explain my necessary deception.”

  “How do I know you do not continue to deceive me? How do I know that your deceit is nothing more than a trap?”

  He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her palm softly as Michael had done so often. “Because I love you with all my heart and soul.”

  His familiar voice caused her to ache for Michael, but her eyes could not shed the image of Decimus kneeling before her.

  “Trust me, please, Mary,” he begged. “Give me a chance to explain.”

  She warned herself against being foolish, but what if . . . ? What if Michael and Decimus were one?

  “It is so hard for me to think of you as—” She stopped and turned away from him.

  “Just listen to my voice. Do not look upon me, and after you have heard my story then you may decide.”

  She turned back to him. “And if I do not trust your word?”

  He hesitated. “I will see to your escape and you will be free.”

  She closed her eyes slowly. “I will listen.”

  He heaved a sigh of relief and quieted his own apprehension before beginning his story. “I lived in a village in Scotland, a quiet place where man and beast lived in peace. We practiced the old ways and beliefs, my mother an exceptional healer and my sister—”

  He stopped and swallowed the lump in his throat and the ache in his heart.

  “My sister was special, trusting all and believing only in good. The clerics came and called us pagans and attempted to reform all who did not believe as they did. They turned neighbor against neighbor until chaos reigned and the innocent suffered.

  “My father was the first accused of heresy, he was punished and killed, leaving me responsible for my mother and sister’s protection. My mother urged me to take my sister and leave, hide before it was too late, and one day seek revenge on those who destroyed the family. I foolishly thought I had time, and it was when I was away seeking help from a nearby clan that they came for my sister and my mother.”

  Mary felt her chest grow heavy with the pain he must have suffered.

  “If it were not for Roarke, I would be dead. When I discovered how my mother and sister were made to suffer before they died, I lost all reason. I wanted nothing but revenge. Roarke, who had been my friend since I was a young lad, reminded me of my mother’s words. He urged me to hide and seek revenge not by killing those who had harmed my family but by freeing the innocent.

  “What better revenge than to continually rob from your enemy what they wanted most? And to help those, the innocent, who needed it the most. I changed my identity and infiltrated my enemy’s camp. I quickly worked my way up and reached a position so powerful that no one dared question me or prevent me from doing as I pleased. And I have saved hundreds of innocent people from suffering and death. My mother had been right, her death was not in vain.”

  Mary stared at him with wide eyes. “But you have killed people—”

  “Only those in the Church who have proved a serious threat to me, only they have found themselves at Decimus’s mercy. All others have left here alive, though thought dead by the church leaders.”

  Mary began to cry. “My parents?”

  He took her hand and squeezed tight. “I was not the one to order your parents’ capture and when I heard of their fate, I attempted to return so that I could free them and you. I was not in time; my journey was delayed and I knew they would suffer horribly, but then Magnus saw to them and to you, for which I was grateful.”

  Mary gasped. “Now I know where that familiar scent comes from. The scent I smelled around Michael when first we met. It belonged to a man who often visited with my father late at night. He always remained in the shadows and they would talk.” Tears spilled down her eyes. “It was you.”

  He brought her hand to his lips, choking back his own tears. “I had promised your father that I would see him, your mother, and you free. He knew of my true identity and that placed him in jeopardy. I was securing your escape when your parents were captured.”

  “How did he know who you were?”

  He shook his head. “He amazed me when we first met, for he told me that he knew I was not an evil man but a messenger and redeemer for God. And he would help me in any way he could.”

  A sudden realization had Mary saying, “There was no man who questioned my safety and brought you to Magnus. It was you. That is why you never answered me when I asked you the man’s identity.”

  “I had no choice but to get you out of where you were.”

  “You knew where I was all these years?”

  “Of course,” he said. “It was the only way of making certain you remained safe. I knew Magnus could protect you for the time being, but there would come a time he could not.”

  “And that time came?”


  “Church leaders insisted that you be found, fearing that you had matured and would begin spreading your father’s teachings. They wanted you purged of your sins, which meant they wanted you dead.”

  “You convinced them you could reform me?”

  “The Church edict forced me to look at other ways of assuring your safety. If you were my wife, no one could touch you. I feared that no matter where I sent you, you might be found, whereas if you remained by my side you would forever be protected.”

  “But why rescue me if you intended to marry me all along?”

  “The Church made mention of your name as a possible problem. That was when I informed Magnus that you were in trouble. I thought he would move you until I determined the Church leaders’ intentions. Unfortunately Magnus had his own problems, leaving me no choice but to see to you myself.”

  “You found out the Church wanted me dead after we were together?”

  “Just before I rescued you, and by then I had promised Magnus I would see you safe. I had not yet decided to make you my wife.”

  “When did you decide?” she asked.

  “Why would be a better question. I attempted to convince myself it was for your benefit, but it was for a selfish reason.” He squeezed her hands tightly, afraid to let go. “I fell in love with you. You released me from the darkness and shed light on my isolation. I began to feel again, to remember what it was to love.”

  She eased her hand out of his and reached out slowly, hesitated then finally touched his face. “I know you and yet I do not. I know Michael is there inside you, but when I look upon you I see Decimus, the man who I have hated these many years.”

  Her hand did not remain long upon him and he ached at the loss of her touch. “I could not chance you knowing who I was. I had to make certain you thought me repulsive, evil, and not to be trusted. Even now you look at me with doubt.”

  “You did not trust me to know your true identity?” she asked sadly.

  “After a while I feared for you to learn of my true identity.” He sighed heavily and shook his head. “I have warred with my feelings for you. Do I tell you? Do I not? Is it safe for you to know? Would you love Decimus as much as you love Michael? I feared losing your love.”

 

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