Dark Warrior (21 page)

“Good,” he said and wiped his arm across his mouth after having taken a swig. “Have some.” He held the jug out to her.

Mary took the jug, held it to her pursed lips, and let the mead flow down her chin. She returned the jug to him and wiped her chin on her sleeve.

“You are a good lad.”

“Where are the warriors?”

“Celebrating with the women,” Edmond said with a grin and took another swig.

Mary had no doubt Decimus would frown on such a sinful celebration, so they enjoyed themselves in his absence.

This was something she had not expected but could work to her advantage.

“They do not include you?”

He was swigging hard on the mead, the liquid dribbling down his thick chin. “Someone needs to watch the prisoner.”

“There is only one?”

He nodded. “The others escaped, but not this one. He will suffer.” He pointed to the metal rod and smiled at the still glowing tip.

Mary thought she would retch. The man actually appeared as if he took pleasure in torturing people. She had to get Roarke out of here. Edmond looked eager to set to work on the new prisoner.

“I will watch the prisoner for you.”

Edmond glared at her. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“I am to be a warrior for Decimus.” She spoke as if he insulted her. “I will serve my lord well and do him proud.”

Edmond gave a firm nod. “You will make a fine warrior.”

“Then give me this chance to prove myself and for you to enjoy yourself.” Mary grinned as she hoped a man would.

He laughed and snorted. “A good lad you are. Let no one near him.” He pointed to the cell at the end and to a key ring hanging on a peg on the wall beside the cell. “I will not be long.”

“I do not mind guarding the prisoner.”

Edmond grinned, his look pure evil. “I get my pleasure in many ways, the best being from the screams of the prisoners.” He laughed, the jug firm in his hand as he walked off and disappeared into the dark corridor.

Mary forced back the bile that rose in her throat and hurried to grab the keys on the wall. She fumbled with them, her hands trembling horribly.

“Roarke,” she said, “I am here to free you.”

“M
ary?” Roarke asked emerging from the dark cell.

“Hurry, we do not have much time,” she urged and reached out to take his hand.

He looked more bruised and battered than when she had seen him only a couple of hours ago.

“Are you able to walk?”

“I will walk, do not fear.” But he clung to her, and she squeezed his hand to let him know she was there for him.

“We must get out of here before Edmond returns.”

“What of Decimus?”

“He searches for the Dark One,” she said slipping her shoulder beneath his arm and helping him to walk.

“A useless search,” he said and leaned on her.

His injuries concerned her. She did not know how serious they were or if they would hamper his escape.

They climbed the staircase more slowly than she cared to.

“You are in pain?” she asked.

“No pain that will keep me from doing what is necessary.”

She took him to a dark corner of the great hall and sat him down to rest. “Wait here, I will return in a moment.”

Mary hurried to where she left her clothes, changed quickly, making a bundle of the clothes she had worn. She was glad for the flurry of activity in the fortress for it kept everyone busy with their work. She appeared a servant who raced about as everyone else did.

She left the smudges of dirt on her face, then hurried to return to Roarke.

“Put this on,” she urged Roarke as she handed him the knit cap she had worn and the jacket. She took smudges of dirt from her face and wiped them on his.

He did not protest and did as she instructed, though he voiced his concern. “You may suffer for this.”

“Only if I get caught.”

“Michael would be proud,” he said with a smile and grabbed his side.

She again supported him with her shoulder. “We need to get through the kitchen and out the back. There we must find a way to get you out of the fortress's inner courtyard. We must appear a couple ready to sneak off to enjoy ourselves.”

Roarke nodded.

They clung to each other, smiling and laughing as they walked through the hall into the kitchen.

They kept to themselves, hugging each other, and several smiles were sent their way, a few men nodded at Roarke. They were out of the kitchen and down the path to the door behind the stable in no time. Once through it they braced themselves against the stone wall, even though the rain fell heavily upon them.

Mary could tell that Roarke was exhausted and would not make it much farther.

“You need to rest before you continue your journey,” she said, thinking where he would be the safest. “Is Magnus's land far from here?”

“A few hours by horse.”

“Then I need to get you a horse.”

Roarke looked alarmed. “You will not place yourself in danger for me.”

“I will see you safe.”

“You have done enough, Mary, leave the rest to me.”

She shook her head. “You are in no condition to do anything but mount and ride to safety.”

“And how do you propose that I ride out of here without drawing attention?”

“A diversion.”

“You are as brilliant as Michael.”

She smiled though it faded quickly. “When you see him tell him I miss him.”

“I am sure his message is the same for you.”

It did not take much to create the diversion, she simply began yelling from the dark corner of the fortress that the Dark One was here.

Panic ensued and she was quick to harness a horse and take it to Roarke.

“Everyone is in a panic and rushes about. You will disappear in the chaos.”

They joined in with the chaos in the courtyard. It seemed as though everyone was in fear. The animals seemed uncontrollable, which served Roarke well for his horse became agitated and he fought to control her as he nudged her to the exit.

Mary hid in the shadows and yelled out that she saw the Dark One enter the fortress and everyone scurried about calling for the warriors, who emerged with a flourish from the hall.

Mary helped Roarke guide the agitated horse out of the fortress and into the woods just as the drawbridge slammed shut.

“Ride fast and hard to Magnus,” she urged, helping him to mount. “He will see that you are safe.”

“What of Decimus?”

“He will not hurt me. He has plans for me, and besides no one can prove I did anything. It was a young lad who freed you. Now go before they send warriors out to search.”

“God bless you, Mary,” he said choking back tears and guiding the horse into the thick darkness of the woods.

The rain pelted her as she watched Roarke disappear. Magnus would see to his care and he would be safe there. She only wished that she were going with him. She took her time returning to the fortress, hoping she would be able to sneak back in and wondering what excuse she could use if she were caught.

She approached the drawbridge, which had been lowered, and hesitated, bracing herself against the stone wall. Riders were coming and she did not wish to be seen.

Her breath caught when she saw her husband, his black cloak flying out behind him, his wet dark hair plastered to his head, and his eyes glowing red-hot with anger. He was in a fury, the two riders behind him keeping their distance.

The horses' hooves pounded upon the wooden drawbridge as they crossed it in a frantic gallop.

Decimus had returned.

Mary snuck her way across the drawbridge, lurking in the protection of the dark shadows. She was wet to the bone, her clothes soaked through, her hair sopping wet. But it did not matter; Roarke was free.

Decimus was screaming at his men as Mary moved along the shadows of the fortress wall, inching her way closer to the entrance that would allow her to enter the kitchen and make her way to her bedchamber.

“You capture this Roarke and then he escapes? And how do you explain the escape of the other prisoners?” He looked down at his men from where he sat on his horse as if judging and condemning them all.

The warriors cowered around him.

Decimus looked from one man to another, his dark eyes searing each one of them. “I think there is a traitor among you.”

They all protested mightily, swearing they were all loyal to him.

“Then tell me how this Roarke escaped?”

They all turned to look at Edmond.

The large man trembled and stuttered as he spoke. “A young lad—he—he offered to—to watch the prisoner.”

“What young lad?” Decimus asked, the rain pouring down on him and his men.

“I—I—I did not get his name.”

“You left a prisoner with a young lad who you did not know?” Decimus dismounted and walked over to Edmond.

The large man stepped back, fear evident in his eyes. “He told me he was to be one of your warriors.”

Decimus looked to his men. “Gather all the lads in the fortress and bring them to the hall. Edmond will identify our traitor.”

A shout rang out from the door to the fortress.

“Lady Mary is not in her room.”

“Damn,” Mary mumbled. Now what was she to do?

“Search the fortress and the grounds,” Decimus ordered. “I want her found.”

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?”

M
ary 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.”

“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.”

Mary stared at him, uncertain of who he was. “It is difficult for me to accept that Decimus and Michael are one and the same. Decimus hunted me while Michael saved me and loved me. How do I bring the two of you together?”