Dark Warrior (13 page)

“My fate is sealed once I exchange vows with him. I will not spend my life in fear, nor be imprisoned by his ignorance. I will do what I must to survive and to find a way to make my time with him productive.”

“Productive?”

“I wish to help you—”

He attempted to protest but she silenced him with a quick raising of her hand.

“Do not waste your breath on me. I will do what I can to help those I can.”

“And find yourself suffering,” he said exasperated.

“I cannot completely surrender my will. I would rather die.”

“You would place yourself in danger helping the innocent?”

“I am in danger now.”

“Free yourself of that danger,” he said. “When you wed Decimus obey him until another way can be found to free you.”

She shook her head adamantly. “And how long do I obey? Weeks? Months? Years? Until I lose myself completely to him? I cannot.”

“You are stubborn.”

“A trait we share.” She laughed.

He grabbed her chin. “How can you find humor in all this?”

“That is easy,” she said softly. “I find humor in it all because you loved me. I shared true love with you and because of you I know its joys and pleasures, and no one, not even Decimus with all his power, can take that from me.”

Michael knew not how to respond.

She reached beneath his mask to touch his face. “Do you know when I touch you that I ache for us to make love?”

“Mary, listen to me—”

“Only if you tell me you will make love to me.”

“You are willful—”

“Aye, which does not make me a docile wife, though I can convince Decimus otherwise.”

He released her chin and pointed a finger at her. “You will—”

Love me,” she said and nipped at his finger.

“Mary it is important that we—”

“Make love,” she finished, and laughing, jumped at him toppling him to the ground.

He grabbed hold of her. “We will talk.”

“Later,” she said and wiggled her body against his.

“You are—”

“Hungry for your kisses.”

Before Mary knew what happened he had her off the ground, in his arms, and was walking to the willow tree. He spread the thick weeping branches with his shoulder, and without removing one stitch of clothing, he made love to her beneath the willow tree.

I
t seemed as if the heavens obliged them that night. A cloud drifted over the half moon, blocking out what light there was and leaving their sleeping nook in total darkness. They were like shadows in the night, barely visible to the eye.

Time was closing in on them, the hours slipping by until it would be morning and their time together done. They had made love often and Mary burned every second of it into memory.

Now snuggled in his arms, her leg over his, her hand on his chest, she felt content. In a few short hours that would change, and how she would say goodbye to him she did not know. She did not want to think about it, for it caused her heart to ache and her stomach to churn.

“I love you more than I ever thought possible, Mary.”

His soft declaration brought a tear to her eye. “Something we have in common, for I never thought I would love someone as strongly as I love you, Michael.”

“How do I let you go?”

“I thought the same of you, but we have no choice.” Her tear dropped on his chest.

“Damn,” he whispered, then eased her off him, leaned over and kissed her tears away. “I will find a way for us, Mary, I promise.” He kissed another falling tear.

“I know, Michael, I know, but for now just love me.”

They loved slowly and gently, savoring every touch and kiss, lingering as if they wished the moment would last forever. When it was done, their bodies misted with their lovemaking, they wrapped around each other tightly and slept.

A rumble of thunder woke Mary in the morning, and she was not surprised to see that Michael was not there.

She had expected his absence in the morning, his last words to her indicating his early departure.

“I will always be near.”

Mary fought back tears as she dressed and gathered her belongings. She had to remain strong. She would face much adversity in the days ahead and she could not resort to tears whenever she was upset. But the persistent tears threatened again when she saw that he had left her berries and roots for breakfast. She could not, however, hold her tears in any longer when she went to the stream. There near the water's edge, written deeply in the dirt was
I love you.

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 matter 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.