Dark Warrior (16 page)

“It would seem a ghost follows you,” Brigid said, crossing herself.

“Nonsense,” Reena argued. “Someone feeds Decimus information.”

“But who?” Mary asked, pushing the material away from her.

Brigid shoved it back at her. “You must pick for your wedding dress.”

Mary shook her head. “I have not the heart. You pick, I have heard talk that you work magic with a needle.”

“There, you see,” Reena said. “Mary has been here just past a day and already she hears of your sewing skills. People talk and offer information without even realizing it.”

“I heard it in passing. Two servants girls were discussing sewing and one made mention of how she wished she possessed your talent with a needle.”

“Could someone have overheard Magnus tell you of Mary's love for singing?” Brigid asked.

Reena shook her head. “We were alone at the time, no one was nearby.”

“We are missing something here,” Mary said.

“This color would compliment you,” Brigid said, holding up a deep blue silk.

“That is too rich for me.”

“Nonsense,” Reena argued. “It is your wedding day.”

“Not to the man of my choice. I care naught about my wedding dress. Do as you will, Brigid, but keep it plain. It is not a day of celebration for me.”

“I will see to it for you.”

“In the meantime we all need to ask more questions and listen to more conversations,” Reena said.

They all agreed and Reena made haste to see if she could discover anything from the servants who had served Decimus's men. Brigid left after taking Mary's measurements. She intended to request sewing help from other women, hoping to see if she would learn anything useful from their gossip.

Mary remained alone in the tower room. She wanted to be away from everyone, alone with her thoughts and her aching heart. She missed Michael so very much, and try as she might not to think about him, it was not possible. He kept creeping into her thoughts reminding her of his touch, his kiss, his love, and she ached with want of him.

A tear fell from her eye, rolling off her cheek. She caught it with her finger and stared at the solitary droplet.

“Do you shed that tear for me?”

“M
ichael,” she whispered and looked to the dark shadows in the room.

He drifted out of the darkness, swathed in his black shroud, and she jumped up and ran to him. He caught her in his strong arms hugging her tightly to him, melding them together as one, never to be parted.

How she wished never to be parted from him, and the aching thought made her cling more tenaciously to him.

“I have missed you,” she said, “so
very, very
much.”

“And I you.”

She tilted her head and closed her eyes wanting him to kiss her.

He did not disappoint her. He kissed her like a man separated too long from the woman he loved, and she returned the same in kind.

Their lips were warm, the taste bittersweet, and the kiss pure magic. Neither wished to part, but time was not on their side.

Mary slipped her hand beneath his mask needing to feel his face. He was warm and solid, and real. “You are not safe here.”

“No one knows I am here.”

“Decimus hunts you,” she warned, fearful for him.

“He will not catch me. I know him too well.”

“You cannot be sure.”

“I will not leave you to him. You are mine. I love you and will see you safe.”

She smiled and moved her hand to rest on his chest. “I feel protected when you are near.”

“You are always safe with me by your side.” He squeezed her to him and nuzzled her neck. “I wish there were more time.”

“It is dangerous,” she said, though she wanted desperately to make love with him.

“One taste of you has intoxicated me, and I will not be satisfied until I have tasted you again.”

“I wish to quench my thirst with you as well, but I fear for you.”

“Do not fear for me, I know what I do.”

She suddenly remembered Roarke and hurriedly told him of what she had done.

“Worry not, Roarke is safe and will remain so.”

They were startled apart by footfalls on the stairs.

“Go,” she urged him.

“Tonight,” he whispered as he returned to the shadows. “I come to you.”

She smiled and shivered in anticipation.

A tap at the door had her calling out, “Enter.”

A young servant girl entered the room cautiously, her eyes wide, her face pale. “Lord Decimus insists on your presence in the great hall.”

The girl was obviously distraught and Mary wondered if something was amiss.

Mary hurried down the steps and entered the hall. Magnus and Thomas, along with their wives, stood near the dais.

“What is wrong?” Brigid asked worried.

“Decimus ordered Mary to the hall,” Magnus said. “He is in a rage about something.”

Mary placed a hand to her churning stomach. Had he discovered the Dark One's presence?

Decimus stormed into the hall and stopped abruptly when he saw the others surrounding Mary. He looked as if he had rushed, perspiration dotting his forehead.

“I demanded
your
presence, Mary. The rest of you are dismissed.”

Magnus stepped forward, his expression stern. “I think not. I give the orders in my keep.”

Decimus glared at him with furious eyes that looked heated with the fires of hell. “My power exceeds yours.”

“Not in my home.”

Decimus stepped forward. “You will—”

Mary hurried between them. “I am at your service, my lord.”

“At least someone knows her place,” Decimus said and grabbed Mary by the arm.

Magnus looked ready to reach for Decimus's neck when his wife walked up beside him and took his arm.

“You will make it worse for Mary,” Reena whispered.

Magnus calmed and murmured. “All would be well again by killing the bastard.” He reluctantly bowed to his wife's wisdom and stepped back.

“How dare you insult me,” Decimus said in a fury to Mary.

“Insult you? I know not what you talk about.”

“Your wedding dress,” he said as though his words explained all.

She looked blankly at him.

“I heard talk the dress is plain.”

“There is something wrong with that?” she asked, baffled by his concern with her dress.

“I distinctly told you to make certain the dress signified my high status in the Church. Only a peasant wears a plain dress for her wedding. I expect rich material and a dress adorned with many jewels.” Decimus ranted. “I will not be insulted on my wedding day by a bride who dresses beneath her station.”

Mary did the only thing she could to appease the frantic man. “I apologize and meant no disrespect to you.”

“You do not take our wedding seriously.”

Mary bit her tongue, wanting to rant herself.

“I am generous with you and here you disregard my offer of salvation.”

She eased her arm from his grasp. “I do not need saving.”

“All the wicked need saving.”

She could argue with him but it would do her little good. His beliefs were heavily ingrained in him, and he would allow no room for new thought. She would not waste her time on the ignorant.

“I will see that the necessary changes are made to the dress.” She looked to Brigid who nodded, letting her know she would take care of it.

“If there is nothing else, I wish to take my leave,” Mary said, making an attempt to act the obedient wife.

“Where do you go?” Decimus asked.

As far away from you as possible.
How she wished she could walk out of the hall and keep going. She would walk all the way to freedom no matter how long it took her.

“Reena and I need to talk with the cook in regards to the wedding feast.”

Reena stepped forward. “She is waiting for us.”

“I grant you permission to leave,” Decimus said and marched out the door.

Mary turned to Reena. “I care naught about the food for the wedding.”

“Do not worry, it is being seen to,” Reena said. “You are free to do as you wish.”

Mary nodded and walked to the front doors. She peered out searching for signs of Decimus. Not seeing him, she left the hall and made her way through the village.

She made her way past the cottages, smiling every now and again at those people brave enough to look her way and return her smile. Most of the villagers averted their eyes, pretending they did not see her. She understood their fear, not of her but of Decimus and his power. She kept her distance, not wanting to add to their concern.

She turned down a narrow dirt path that wound its way into the woods, and when she found a secluded spot she sat on the hard ground and braced her back against a thick spruce tree.

Forever
.

The thought that she was committed to Decimus forever caused her stomach to churn. According to his beliefs she would be wed to him, not only in this lifetime, but when they passed beyond. They would be
forever one
.

Her stomach protested and she rested her hand on it.

She had not given as much thought to her wedding day as she should have, but for a good reason. If she dwelled on her wedding she would need to face the consequences of her wedding night.

Michael had reminded her before they had made love that she would face the consequences of her decision. She had not given much thought to her wedding night. She had not wanted to. The idea of sharing intimacy with Decimus turned her stomach, so she had ignored it.

If he ranted so badly over a wedding dress, how would he react to an impure wife?

Mary rubbed her temple, a slight ache starting. She felt so very alone and had for a very long time. It was not until Michael had entered her life that her loneliness had vanished.

She smiled. It was odd to think that a shadow had brought light and love into her life. She was so grateful to him and did not regret for a moment loving him, no matter the consequences.

She did not know what her future would bring. She hoped it would be with Michael, someday, somehow. But for now she had to take one day at a time and survive.

Mary raised her head at the sound of footsteps and suddenly Horace came bounding out of the woods to plop down next to her. The dog was a loveable one, big floppy ears and a mixture of colors. He loved to be hugged and rubbed. She wondered where he had been of late.

Horace barked once and looked to the woods. A man large in girth walked out, leaning on a walking stick as he took slow steps toward them.

“He knows I cannot keep up with him and always gets ahead of me.” The man stopped in front of Mary. “I am Patrick, Reena's father.”

Mary was about to get up.

“Nay, do not disturb yourself. I will join you. I need a rest.” He lowered himself slowly to the ground beside her. “Horace has been staying with my wife and me. Decimus ordered him gone from the keep. Guess he is afraid of the animal.”

Mary thought that odd. A man like Decimus afraid of a dog?

“I heard you were a storyteller,” Mary said smiling.

“And you look like you need to hear a story.”

Horace seemed to understand the word
story
and settled down between the two to listen.

An hour later Mary knew all about the Legend and Reena and the way she had saved her village from starvation, and how the pair had fallen in love despite Reena's efforts to have him wed her best friend, Brigid. And how in the end Reena suffered the torture of the rack while Magnus fought to free his love. So they lived happily ever after.

Until Decimus and Mary.

“What tale will you tell of me?”

“That is up to you,” Patrick said. “Your tale has yet to be written.”

They parted ways when they reached the keep, Patrick and Horace returning to their cottage and Mary reluctantly heading to the keep.

How would her tale end, she wondered? Would she be its author or would another?

It was close to supper when she entered the keep and she hurried to her bedchamber to freshen herself. She combed her hair, leaving the long blond strands to hang free and frame her face. Her cheeks glowed pink from the fresh air and her skin was warm from the sun.

Her solitary outing and storytelling time had served her well. She was ready to face the evening meal with Decimus. But more importantly she could not wait to make love with Michael tonight.

Her heart ached to see him and her body pulsated with anticipation of his touch.

Mary entered the hall to see most everyone seated at the dais. The seat beside Decimus was empty, waiting for her. No one occupied the seat to her left. It had been purposely left empty so that her attention would be solely on Decimus. She would have him and him alone to converse with.

Magnus sat to Decimus's right, Reena next to her husband, Brigid next to Reena and then Thomas.

Mary approached the table with a smile. She would keep high spirits even though he segregated her from her friends. She had later this evening with Michael to look forward to, and no one could steal that happiness from her.

Decimus stared at her when she took her seat.

“Good evening, my lord,” she said graciously, bowing her head.

He seemed a bit befuddled and about to say something when he shook his head and leaned his face near to hers.

“You think to bewitch me with your beauty?”

She was startled by his accusation and did not know how to respond.

“You will wear your hair plaited as befitting a righteous woman, one who does not wish to call attention to herself.”

“As you wish,” she said, but before she could slip from her seat he grabbed her hand.

“Where do you go?”

“To do as you direct.”

He lowered his voice to a deep rumble. “Not now, just do not wear your hair that way ever again.”

“As you say.” She settled in her seat.

Bored with her isolation and with an upset stomach, she ate little of her meal. She heard peels of laughter coming from Reena and Brigid and wished she could join them. She never truly had friends; the cottage where she had lived was as isolated as she was now.

There had been a village a bit of a distance from her home, and she had made a few acquaintances but no true friends. She felt Reena and Brigid were her first true friends, and she wanted to spend time with them while she could.

She noticed that Decimus would send Reena and Brigid scathing looks when they laughed. He probably thought joy a sin.

Magnus finally broke her boredom, though this caused her a dilemma without her at first realizing it. He suggested she sing.

“Treat us to your angelic voice, Mary.”

Decimus ordered her not to raise her voice in song, but Magnus made it clear that this was his home and his word was law. Could she tempt fate and sing? She would love to raise her voice in a joyous tune. Singing healed her soul, and right now her soul could use some healing.

She decided to take a chance. She stood and avoided looking at Decimus, knowing he would not be pleased with her actions. She walked around the dais to stand in front of everyone. Tables were filled with many of Magnus's warriors and Decimus's men as well. The hall grew silent.

She chose a gay tune she and her mother would often sing together, and as soon as she began smiles spread wide. She never thought her ability special, but all who heard it swore she possessed the voice of an angel.

Her voice was clear and smooth, and sweet echoes rang off the stone walls, making it sound as if a chorus of angels sang along with her.

Once she started she did not want to stop, and she went from song to song. Everyone cheered her on, except Decimus.

He sat back in his chair staring at her, and she could only wonder what devious plans and punishments he conjured.

She finished with a beautiful love song, her voice hitting notes surely only an angel could reach. Silence followed her song and tears could be detected slipping down cheeks. Then the hall exploded into applause, the warriors, honoring her, jumped to their feet.