Legendary Warrior (2 page)

“You will, for I will not have you hurt. I do this of my own free choice, and whatever befalls me is the consequence of my own decision. You must promise me that you will not come after me. You are needed here. Who will look after my parents? Who will help the other women with their sick and hungry babies? Promise me, Brigid, please. I need this promise from you.”

She hesitated. “I give you my promise reluctantly and because I know that your stubbornness will help you to succeed in an impossible task.”

Reena smiled and hugged her friend tightly, the thought of possibly never seeing her again a distant worry in her mind. She would do as she must and she would succeed. She had to, or many would perish.

She grabbed her sack, slipping her arm through the opening beneath the knot that held all the necessary items for her trip. “Fret not. I go off to continue my father’s most famous tale—I go to meet the
Legend
.”

Chapter 2

R
eena stared at the line of trees in front of her. They looked like a row of soldiers guarding the woods behind them; one after the other they stood, their heavy branches resembling arms stretched out, ready to prevent intruders from passing. It was odd that they should grow in a perfect line, for in their oddity they intimidated. They actually looked ready to attack anyone who dared attempt to pass them.

Reena gave a little shiver. The weather had chilled in the last two days, and she was glad for the wool leggings, tunic, jacket and leather boots. That she resembled a young lad mattered not to her; that she remained warm mattered greatly. The change in weather reminded her how very important her journey was. She simply could not fail.

She studied the line of trees; if her father’s mappings were accurate, she was standing at the border of the Legend’s lands.

A sudden wind rushed around her, swirling up leaves on the ground and sending a stronger shiver through her. The sky was heavy with clouds, making the woods darker than usual for early afternoon and making her wonder at the wisdom of her decision. But there was no going back—she had to find help for her village, or many would die this coming winter.

That thought reinforced her courage. With her sack firmly in her grasp, she breathed a hefty sigh as she approached the line of soldier trees.

She almost expected the trees to march forward and forbid her entrance, but they remained stoic sentinels and allowed her to pass. She proceeded several feet, thinking the woods too dense to harbor any keep or cottage. How, then, did the Legend live? Her father had never spoken of seeing the Legend’s home, only his land.

Not allowing herself to grow discouraged, she moved on, climbing over large stones, fallen trees and bending down to pass through an arch of thorns. One thorn caught at her shoulder as if warning her not to go on, to turn back now, while she had the chance.

She did not heed the warning; she simply dislodged the thorn from her jacket and proceeded past bushes and saplings. Stepping out into a large meadow, she could see, with a squint of her eyes, a high stone wall in the distance.

“What do you want here?”

The deep voice so startled her that she jumped in fright, stumbled and fell, her backside hitting the ground hard.

With her elbows braced on the ground and her bottom throbbing, she stared up at a tall man who was so thick with muscles she wondered how he could move. And his face? She had to blink and look again. His face would win no heart, his nose appearing to have been broken more than once. Scars mapped his face and bald head in a mismatched fashion, and the corner of his lip looked to be missing, though Reena had to admit he had compelling eyes, soft blue like the sky on a perfect spring day. His clothes were clean and finely stitched, their colors dark. His boots were fine leather, and the only weapon he carried was a knife tucked in the scabbard attached to his belt.

“Are you deaf?” he asked loudly and pointed to his ear.

She shook her head and hurried to her feet, feeling much more confidence on them than on her bottom. At least she thought she would, but when she reached her full height of barely two inches past five feet she realized she did not even reach the man’s chest.

“What do you want?” he demanded.

If he could demand, then so could she. She was on a mission, and her fears would just have to be ignored. She spoke up. “I have come to speak with the Legend.”

The large man snickered, grinned and then broke into a fit of laughter.

“When you finish finding my request humorous I suggest you pay it heed, for I am not leaving here until I speak with him.”

The man stopped laughing and stared at her. “That sounds like a demand, and he does not take well to demands.”

“I am here to barter for his services.”

The large man looked her over quickly and shook his head. “What could a young lad like you offer the Legend?”

He thought her a young lad, but that had been her intention when she’d donned the garments. It had worked. Her weight loss and her meager height served her disguise well, but she did not wish to deceive this man, only those who would mean her harm.

“Do you have a hearing problem, lad?” the large man nearly shouted.

“Nay,” she said quickly and removed her cap, letting her long black hair spill past her shoulders.

The man’s face turned bright red, and he sputtered in an attempt to talk.

Reena felt guilty for causing him unease. “I meant no deception; it was for my own protection I dressed as a lad, my intentions being to travel here and offer my mapmaking skills to the Legend.”

With his face glowing red, the man asked, “Mapmaking?”

“Aye,” she said quickly and set her bundle on the ground to pull out one of the maps she carried with her. She handed it to him. “See for yourself.”

The man took it from her and looked it over. “You mapped this area?”

“My father mapped the area on a visit here. I copied his details and added the ones he spoke about when telling of his journey, but I have personally mapped places myself.”

“It is done well.”

“Thank you.” Reena smiled, proud of her skill.

“But how do I know that is why you are truly here? Many seek to meet with the Legend and not all with good intentions in mind.”

Reena took the map from him and stuffed it in her bundle. “Do I look like someone who could cause the Legend harm?”

He looked her over while rubbing his chin. “You are a scrawny lass, but appearance can deceive.”

“I can assure you my only motive is to secure his services to help my village in exchange for my mapping skills. I mean him no harm; I give you my word of honor on that.”

He nodded. “I will accept your word, but I warn you, a high price will be paid for any deception.”

“I wish to deceive no one.”

He introduced himself. “I am Thomas.”

“Reena,” she said and shared a quick handshake with him.

“I know not if he needs a mapmaker, but that is for him to decide. I will take you to him”—he paused, and his smile challenged—“that is, if you have the courage to face the Legend.”

Reena shoved her black hair beneath her cap. “Lead the way.”

They reached the keep as dusk appeared on the horizon. Her legs were tired, having to take several strides to match Thomas’s one large stride, but she complained not. She kept pace no matter how tired she felt, though at the moment she wished for a pallet of any kind to lay her tired body on.

The stone wall that surrounded the castle grounds stood a good eight feet or more. Reena and Thomas crossed a thick wooden plank with heavy chains attached to each side; once raised, it would make the castle impregnable. Reena tilted her head back as she passed under the portcullis and admired the skilled craftsmanship.

The interior of the walled fortress amazed her. It contained a village larger than her own. The many cottages were well kept, the thatching on the roofs fresh and thick. The individual gardens had been harvested along with the large fields that occupied most of the land opposite the cottages. She caught sight of the fully stocked storehouses and envied their harvest.

She passed metalworkers, weavers, and masons who were busy constructing a tower, and it was just past the tower that Reena saw the keep. It was impressive in size and solid in structure.

Villagers called out and waved to Thomas. The people appeared a cheerful lot, but then they had plenty of food and the protection of the Legend. What did they have to fear?

A small chapel sat to the right of the keep, and a short, stout man dressed in brown clerical robes was busy stocking chopped wood beside it.

Thomas waved to him.

The man waved back and smiled. “The chapel will be nice and warm Sunday, Thomas. See you at Mass.”

Reena could not help but comment. “There is a fireplace in the chapel?”

Thomas answered without breaking his stride. “Cleric David believes the chapel should be a place of comfort for his flock, so when it was built he insisted on a fireplace.”

Her own village had never had a chapel and had limited access to a cleric; the new earl insisted that religion was wasted on heathens.

It was then she felt the rumble beneath her feet; it was as if the ground trembled. She looked to Thomas to see if he had felt it, but he continued walking undisturbed. She rushed to catch up with him, but the steady rumble beneath her had her casting an anxious glance over her shoulder.

She noticed the villagers hurry off the pathway to hover near their cottages and fences as they looked anxiously toward the portcullis.

Was someone approaching the castle?

A fine mist suddenly appeared and crept slowly along the ground as if in answer, but it was not the mist that concerned her.

The rumble turned into a distinct thunder and Reena realized that it actually heralded approaching men on horseback. She heard the unmistakable sound of horses’ hooves pounding the planks of the drawbridge before she caught her first glimpse of the warriors.

They entered with a flourish and villagers ran to get out of their way, the massive steeds and powerful mares demanding that no one cross their path—the path where Reena stood.

She froze watching the mighty beasts and their ominous dark riders approach. She wanted to move; she had to move, but the sight of the warrior who led them rendered her powerless.

He was like nothing she had ever seen before.

There was not a speck of light to him. His garments were black, blacker than the darkest night, and his black metal helmet concealed all but his eyes, mouth and chin. He resembled a demon spawned from the depths of hell ready to devour anyone in his path.

“Move away,” Thomas shouted at her.

Her fear of the descending demon kept her legs frozen. Her mind screamed for her to do as Thomas warned, but she could not move as her legs refused to obey her.

The mist swirled around her feet, night devoured the dusky sky, the ground shook and the devil descended upon her.

Again she silently screamed, to run and hide, escape, but she cringed and braced to face death.

She was suddenly swept up by a strong arm and landed with a thud on the horse. With a quick yank her back slammed against his solid, leather-clad chest and his arm remained firm around her waist.

She thought she heard him angrily grumble, “Fool.” But she could not be certain.

It was not long before he brought his beast of a steed to a halt at the foot of the steps to the keep. After the horse settled under his skillful hand, he grabbed her arm and swung her off the animal, depositing her on the ground just as Thomas caught up with them.

The dark warrior dismounted his horse, handing the reins to a young lad who waited nearby. He walked up to Thomas. “I will see you and the lad inside.”

Thomas watched as the warrior walked up the steps and disappeared behind the massive wooden door. He then turned to Reena and with a grin said, “You have just met the Legend.”

Chapter 3

R
eena’s legs trembled so badly that she thought she would not be able to take another step, but she did. The Legend already thought her a fool; she could not allow herself to appear even more foolish. He would never wish to retain her as his mapmaker.

She entered the great hall behind Thomas, giving a peek past his massive shoulders. The Legend motioned with his hand, and the few people in the hall emptied without protest. He pulled his helmet off his head and laid it on the table beside him before turning to face her and Thomas.

Her breath caught in anticipation, and she clung tightly to her meager sack. She almost gasped at the sight of him. She had expected a beast and instead saw beauty. She had not thought a man’s face could be beautiful, but his was a work of art—every bone, each muscle, the texture blended perfectly together.

She could imagine drawing his face, the ease with which the charcoal would flow, and all because he was crafted so magnificently. And coloring, his eyes were the deepest of browns, like the rich soil just before planting, and his long hair was a lighter shade of brown with streaks the color of golden wheat raging through it. And tall, he was so very tall, at least a head past most men. And his expression?

Thomas quietly voiced her thoughts. “He is angry.”

The Legend removed his black leather gloves and tossed them on top of the helmet before walking over to Thomas.

“The reason for this lad’s foolishness.”

It was not a question; it was a demand, and Reena suddenly wondered if she truly was
foolish
for thinking she could convince such a powerful man to help her. But then, she was here; she had made it this far into the Legend’s home, she could not retreat now.

She stepped from behind Thomas before the large man could answer, and she removed her cap, a gesture of respect and to clarify her gender. She did not wish the Legend thinking that she deliberately deceived him.

Her long hair spilled down around her shoulders, and she pushed the silky dark strands behind her ears, away from her face.

His response was to cross his arms over his broad chest and stare at her.

No simple stare, but one that intimidated her to the depths of her soul. Without speaking a word, he demanded an explanation.

She gathered every ounce of courage she had. “A lad fairs better on the road than a lass with no companion. A lad’s garb was as necessary as my journey here. I have come to ask for your help.”

The Legend looked her over. “What man in your village would allow a bit of a lass like you to journey on her own?”

“It was my choice,” she said, a defensive edge to her tone.

“Do you always make unwise decisions?”

She clung tightly to her cap to keep her hands from trembling and her anger from flaring. “I make necessary decisions. My village is starving. We have lost two people already; I will see no more die.”

He remained silent for a moment as though in contemplation. “Come join me in food and drink while we discuss this matter?”

The scent of the roasting lamb that cooked on the spit in the hearth had her mouth watering, as did the full platter of breads and cheeses, and she was hungry, having taken only a meager portion of food from her deprived village.

She could not deny her hunger, but the guilt of filling her belly while those she cared about starved caused her pain. “I would be grateful for your hospitality.”

The Legend walked to the table nearest the hearth, but before he sat, a plump little puppy came running into the great hall and jumped up and down in front of the dark lord, happy to see him. The Legend ordered him to sit, but the puppy ignored his edict and continued jumping.

The Legend attempted again to make the puppy obey, but it was futile; the plump animal intended to have his way. The Legend shook his head and sat with the puppy cuddling at his feet.

Thomas took a seat beside the Legend, and Reena sat across from the two men. Ale was poured, bread broken and sliced lamb was served before any words were exchanged.

“Your name?” Once again the Legend ordered.

“Reena,” she answered after hastily swallowing a bite of delicious black bread.

“I am Magnus.” He offered her his hand, a show of respect she appreciated.

She took his hand, her small one insignificant compared to the size of his, and she realized he softened his handshake to accommodate her meager strength.

“Now what is it you want from me?”

This was why she had come here, and she had to make certain she succeeded. Otherwise, her village would be doomed.

“My village is starving, though our harvest is bountiful. Philip Kilkern, earl of Culberry, was a fair and decent landlord, but he passed unexpectedly, and his property went to his nephew Peter Kilkern, who is not at all fair and definitely not decent. He demands the impossible from his tenants and forbids us to hunt on his land—and he strikes out without provocation. We are at his mercy, for many fear his heavy retributions.”

“Why come to me?”

Reena felt his question fair, and he asked it without malice or disregard to her plight—he simply wanted a reasonable explanation. She gave it.

“I have grown up hearing stories about your bravery and how you help others—for a price, of course. I knew of no other who is capable of helping my village.”

“What do you offer in exchange for my help?”

Thomas smiled and popped a piece of cheese into his mouth.

She raised her chin and spoke with pride. “I am a skilled mapmaker, and I offer you my services in exchange for your help.”

“She is a good mapmaker,” Thomas said, his words garbled, since he had not finished all of the cheese.

Magnus turned to him. “You saw her maps?”

Thomas nodded as he swallowed, then pointed to Reena. “Show him.”

Reena quickly dug several maps out of her sack, moved the food out of the way and spread out one map after another. “This one is of the village and the earl’s land, including his keep.”

Magnus looked it over carefully. “You drew this?”

“I have a fine and steady hand with a quill—good eyes and a mind that remembers what I see.”

He studied the map for several minutes, then rolled it up to glance over the second map.

Reena was fast to explain. “This is of the land that sits adjacent to Culberry land. It is Dunhurnal land; I have mapped some but not all. It is beautiful, though the keep is in sad neglect. Some believe that Peter Kilkern is attempting to gain the land to advance his holdings and wealth. If that is so, my village will surely starve, for our men travel there now to hunt.”

Magnus rubbed his chin while he studied the map with intent interest.

Reena felt a sense of hope. The Legend—she silently corrected herself; Magnus, his name was Magnus, and she must remember to refer to him by his given name—looked truly intrigued with her maps.

He rolled the map up and looked at the next one. “This is my land.”

“Aye,” she said with pride.

He looked at her. “You have been here before this visit?”

“Nay, I learned my mapmaking skills from my father. He was in this area and recorded the landmarks. I simply copied his, though now I could do a more detailed map of your property and your keep.”

“And the price for a map of my land and home would be my helping your village?”

“Nay,” she was quick to say. “I offer my mapmaking skills to you whenever you would need them.”

“You would then be my official mapmaker.”

“If that is what you wish in payment for your help, then so be it.”

He considered her offer and she prayed hard—very hard that he would agree.

“Why did the village send
you
and not a man?”

She took no offense at his question. It was odd that she, a woman, and a small one at that, should journey on her own to request help from the infamous Legend. “The village does not know I have come here seeking your help, and if my father had known what I was about he would have forbidden me to come. He would be more upset with himself that he could not journey here himself.”

“He is ill?”

“He suffered a broken leg while hunting for food for the village. He now suffers a severe limp and is limited in his activities.”

He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table. “You are a wee bit of a lass to be traveling these parts on your own.”

“I can see to myself.”

Thomas disagreed. “A good gust of wind would pick you up and carry you away.”

“I would like to see it try,” Reena said defiantly.

“She has courage,” Thomas said, looking to Magnus. “She did not fear me and spoke right up about wanting to see the Legend. Most quake in their boots before they meet you.”

“I heard the Legend was feared but that he was also a fair man.” And seeing him now, the puppy asleep at his feet, offering her food and listening to her plight, Reena knew this to be true. But she also understood why he was feared. It was simple; he feared nothing. “Your skill is fighting, my skill is mapmaking. Think how much easier it would be for you if you knew the lay of the land before you proceeded into battle.”

“I have men who supply me with that information.”

“But you will have the information there in front of you for you to study again and again. You will know where paths and streams connect, where rivers flow and merge, and the boundaries of lands. It will all be at your fingertips whenever you wish to see it for yourself.”

Magnus remained silent, though he kept an eye on her. He looked to be considering her offer, and again she prayed for a favorable decision.

“How do I know this is your work?” Magnus asked.

“A fair question,” Thomas said with a nod and broke off a chunk of bread.

Reena agreed. “Aye, it is, and I will be glad to demonstrate my skills for you.”

Magnus’s silence once again filled the hall, and Reena realized he grew quiet when in thought. She waited.

“You could map the keep and the village. If I find it adequate, I will then consider your offer,” Magnus said, as if declaring it done.

His response was not good enough for Reena. “Time is of the essence for my village. I cannot waste time mapping for you if in the end you will only consider my request. I ask that if my skills prove adequate, my offer be accepted—not merely considered.”

Again he grew silent, but this time Reena did not wait.

“Time is a factor that can win or lose a battle. I will map your keep and the village in a day’s time, and you will then see how my skills can be used when time is of the essence for you.”

“You are sure of your skills.”

“I am.”

“One day’s time,” Magnus said.

“Tomorrow at this time I will present you with a map of your keep and the village, and you will let me know if my skills are adequate enough for me to be of service to you.”

She offered him her hand, binding their agreement.

He took it and held it for a moment. “Tell me if there is anything you need.”

Need.

There was so much that she needed, food for her village, protection for the villagers and hope—hope that once again life would be good for them all—and this man could provide it all.

“I have everything I need right now, thank you.”

She intended to get right to work, but Thomas stopped her with his question.

“What made you think the Legend was real? Some think Magnus a myth.”

“Nay,” Reena said with a soft smile that had both men staring at her oddly. “I never thought the Legend a myth. The tales spoke of his strength and courage, and while it was said he was feared by many, they never spoke of brutality. To me the Legend fought with honor and dignity—a difficult task in this brutal world.”

“And what do you think of him now that you have met him?” Thomas asked, looking from her to Magnus.

“You are not bound to answer that,” Magnus said. “It matters not what others think of me, and Thomas well knows this.”

“I do not mind answering,” she said. “I think you are a man of many mysteries.”

“What mysteries?”

Reena placed her elbows on the table and rested her face in her hands. “You are considerate and accommodating, yet demanding and commanding, and I find it easy to speak with you.”

Thomas’s whole body shook with a laughter he attempted to contain.

Magnus ignored his friend after giving him a rough shot to the side with his elbow. “There are not many who would agree with you on that.”

Reena yawned; with a full stomach and the warmth of the hall relaxing her, she was about ready to fall asleep. “They do not see you as I do.”

“You have only met me. What makes you think you see me more clearly than others?”

“I have a good eye, which is the reason why I am a skilled mapmaker. I see much and remember even more. Your face tells me much.”

Thomas wanted to hear more. “What does his face tell you?”

Another yawned attacked, and she moved her arms off the table to sit straight, as if the new position would keep her more alert. “Besides the obvious?”