Dark Warrior (18 page)

T
he storm clouds that had gathered overhead upon Mary and Reena's return dumped a heavy rainfall on the land just before sunset. Everyone ran for cover and the village settled in for the night.

Mary was tired, having slept little the night before. An early supper and sleep was the only thing on her mind. Could she escape for the night and cloister herself in her bedchamber without causing a problem?

Decimus had wanted to speak with her, though he had not summoned her since her return to the keep. She hoped to beg a headache and be left alone for the night. Tomorrow would be soon enough to talk with him, but then there was also the rest of her life to talk with him.

Reena helped to fashion her excuse intending to prevent anyone from disturbing Mary, if she could.

Mary had just tossed herself on the bed to wait for the light fare Reena was having sent to her room when a sharp knock sounded at the door.

“Mary! I wish to speak with you.”

She rolled her eyes at Decimus's familiar voice.

“I am not feeling well, can it not wait?”

“Open the door.”

She sat up quickly, shivers racing through her upon hearing his tightly controlled speech. He was angry and she wished to cause no problems for herself or anyone else.

She went to the door and opened it, keeping her head respectably bowed.

He grabbed the door from her hand and slammed it shut, the force sending the sound echoing throughout the keep.

“I will tell this to you now, and you will remember it well.”

She looked at him, and there in his dark eyes that raged in anger she thought she saw loneliness. It was a brief sighting and one she was not fully certain she had seen at all, it so startled her.

“No locked doors will ever separate us.”

There would be no place to escape him, ever.

“We will talk now,” he said, letting her know he expected no reply, just obedience.

Though her head had not ached before, it did now. “Please, can this not wait? My head aches.”

“I will not tolerate excuses.”

She wanted to scream at him to leave her alone, to go away and never come back, but her silent ranting served no purpose other than to cause her head to throb more.

She held her hand to her head. “I speak the truth, my—” She suddenly felt dizzy and stumbled backward.

Decimus was quick to reach out to her, grabbing her arm. He had just lifted her up into his arms when the door opened.

Reena walked in with a tray of food and stood startled by the sight of Mary's head resting against Decimus's chest.

“You have a healer?” he asked, looking to Reena.

She nodded.

“Go fetch her at once.”

Reena left the tray on the table and hurried out the door.

Decimus carried Mary to the bed and laid her down gently. “From this moment on you will do nothing without my approval and I care not what anyone says.”

“Mary is still under my guardianship,” Magnus said from the open doorway.

“She is no longer,” Decimus challenged with authority. “She is my wife to be and, therefore, my responsibility.”

Magnus attempted to protest.

“Do not make me go to the king to make it official,” Decimus warned. “You may be in his favor, but he will not deny me.”

Magnus could not argue. He knew Decimus was right.

Old Margaret entered the room and seeing the two men about ready to battle, ordered them out. “Be gone, both of you, while I tend to her.”

“I will stay,” Decimus said.

“You will not,” Old Margaret said firmly. “I am the healer here and I know what is good for her. Now be gone. I will let you know when you can return.”

Decimus looked down at Mary, her eyes were barely open, he then looked to the healer. “Treat her well or you will suffer.”

“She is in good hands, my lord,” Old Margaret said then turned her back on him.

Magnus waited until Decimus left the room then followed him out, closing the door behind them after Reena slipped into the room.

Old Margaret heated water over the fire and mixed a special brew after Mary complained about her head.

“You are not well,” Reena said surprised, sitting by her side on the bed. “I thought it a ruse as we planned.”

“My head began to ache when Decimus knocked on my door. Then I grew dizzy and my stomach felt upset.”

“Has this happened before?” Old Margaret asked, returning to the side of the bed.

“Nay, it has not.”

“Drink this. It will help you rest.” Old Margaret handed her a cup of the steaming brew. “You will sleep well and your head will feel better when you wake.”

Reena and the healer helped Mary get undressed and settled her in the bed before Decimus was told he could speak with Mary.

“Only a few moments,” Old Margaret warned him before she left. “She needs to rest.”

Reena sat in a chair near the bed and Magnus stood next to his wife.

“I will be alone with her,” Decimus ordered.

Reena did not want to leave Mary alone with him. “I thought to sit with her in case she requires help.”

“Wait outside,” he ordered and looked to Magnus as if ordering him to tend to his wife.

Magnus took his wife's arm. “We will wait outside the door.”

Decimus sat on the bed beside her.

Mary's eyes flickered open.

“I have made a decision, Mary.”

She wondered if she dreamed that Decimus sat beside her. Her head felt light and fuzzy, and she did not know if she was awake or asleep.

“We will not wait to wed. By week's end you will be my wife.”

She sighed. “You are not real. This is not real. Nothing is real.”

“I am real, Mary,” he said and slowly reached out to touch her face. “I am very real. And you are mine.”

Reena returned after Decimus left and let Mary know that she was there and would remain so throughout the night.

“Nay, you must not,” she whispered. “I must be alone, please leave me alone.” She begged until Reena agreed and left her to sleep.

Mary dreamed all night, her aching head playing tricks on her. One minute she thought Decimus was with her and the next she was certain Michael was there, until she finally realized that she was alone in her bedchamber.

Only then when she was certain no one was with her did she close her eyes and whisper, “Michael, I love you.”

Her eyes were heavy with sleep when she heard the faint whisper. She ignored it wanting to remain in the cocoon of peaceful slumber. But it was a persistent whisper and she had no choice but to heed it.

Mary
.

She struggled to wake, struggled to open her eyes.

Mary, I have little time
.

Michael?
Did Michael call her? Was she dreaming again? She fought harder to shake the sleep from her.

“Mary, are you all right?”

“Michael?”

“It is me. Are you well?”

She tried to open her eyes but they were so very heavy. “So tired . . .” She could not get the rest of the words from her mouth.

“Say nothing. Rest.”

She needed to ask him something, but she was not certain what it was. Her mind was too foggy to think. It was important, though; she knew it was. But what was it?

“Question,” she murmured.

“Sleep,” he urged her. “Stay well.”

Important. The question was important
.

Why could she not remember?

“I love you,” he whispered.

The words
I love you
were strong in her mind, but she could not force the thought aloud. And she returned to her cocoon of peaceful slumber.

Mary woke to a clap of thunder the next morning feeling much better, though concerned—she was not certain of last night's events. Had Michael visited her? Had Decimus told her they would wed by week's end? She did not know her dreams from reality, but she intended to find out.

After dressing in her green shift and tunic and plaiting her long blond hair she hurried to the great hall ready to eat.

Reena and Brigid sat at a table near the large fireplace where no one else was in sight, a relief to Mary. At least she would be able to eat her meal in peace.

“We heard the news,” Reena said.

Mary shook her head as she joined them. “So it is true, I am to wed by week's end.”

“You did not know?” Brigid asked surprised.

“After I drank Old Margaret's brew last night, I was not certain of anything.”

“But you feel well this morning?” Reena asked.

“I have not an ache in my head and I am famished.”

Reena ordered a servant girl to bring food for Mary, then huddled with the women to discuss the situation. “We have not much time.”

“There is nothing we can do to stop this wedding,” Mary said, knowing it was time to face the inevitable. “Even if we discover someone had betrayed me, what difference would it make? Decimus has decreed he will wed me and his word is final.”

“Perhaps this person can protect you,” Reena said, struggling to find a solution.

“If this mysterious person had the power to protect her, would he have not stepped forward by now?” Brigid asked.

“She is right,” Mary said.

“There must be a way—”

Mary placed her hand on Reena's arm. “There is nothing that can be done. It is my fate to wed Decimus. I would like nothing more than for that not to be true, but it is and I can run from it no more.”

“You are brave,” Brigid said with a tear in her eye.

“I am not brave. I am fearful of wedding Decimus and”—Mary choked back her own tears—“I am glad I have known true love.”

The three women shared tears and promises to always be friends, and of course Reena refused to believe that something could not be done to save Mary.

“I will continue my search,” Reena said.

“She is not happy unless she is searching and getting herself into trouble,” Brigid said teasingly.

“Mary!”

The three women jumped and turned to see Decimus marching into the great hall, his clothing wet from the heavy rain.

“We talk,” he said and directed her to follow him with a wave of his hand.

She hurried after him, noticing the strength of his strides and the rigid way in which he carried himself. He was a man with strong beliefs, and he expected all to follow him.

She had spent precious time attempting to find a way not to wed him. Now it was necessary to find out more about the man who was to be her husband. She would need to know him well if she was to protect herself from harm.

He took her to his bedchamber. She hesitated at the door, it being not at all proper for her to be there. His scathing look warned of punishment if she did not obey, and she reluctantly entered the room.

“Sit,” he ordered, pointing to the lone chair by the table.

He stood near the fireplace warming his hands.

He was richly dressed. His tunic was the color of deep red wine and was trimmed with gold and as usual he wore his rings. A gold cross on a heavy gold, chain hung around his neck. He certainly did not mind adorning himself.

“You are well this morning?” he asked after she had sat.

“I feel much better this morning. Thank you for asking.”

He rubbed his hands together, they looked strong though his fingers were narrow, and she could not help but wonder how many people those very hands had hurt.

“I want you to rest today. I will instruct the servants to tend to you.”

“It is not necessary. I am fine and I prefer to do for myself.”

He glared at her. “This is why I wished to talk. I will make your duties as my wife clear, and then you will know how to behave.”

“As you say.” She had the feeling that she would repeat those words often.

He began with, “You will not speak unless I give you permission.”

He droned on, detailing every step of her life with him. He would control her every movement, her every breath, her every thought. There would be no reason for her to think for herself, he would do it for her.

“After all,” he said. “Women are inferior to men.”

She remained quiet listening like a dutiful, inferior woman, while silently swearing that she would teach him otherwise. She would learn his faults and use them to her advantage.

It was evident that his first fault was arrogance and that certainly did not serve anyone well.

He walked closer to her and stared as though he looked through her, and she shifted uncomfortably in the chair. Did he see something? Did he sense something? His dark eyes made her uneasy and she looked away.

“Are you prepared to do your wifely duties, Mary?” he asked roughly.

She had not anticipated that question. Making love was not a duty, and she was grateful she had learned that with Michael. When two people loved it was a beautiful joining of two hearts and souls.

She did not know if he expected an answer. She had none for him. How could she, when the thought of being intimate with him turned her stomach.

“I expect you to do your duty.”

She stared at him, not understanding what he wanted from her.

“It is every wife's duty.”

Her look became more confused.

He lifted her chin with one finger. “We will wed and you will give me a son.”

M
ary was grateful for the knock on the door that interrupted them and allowed her to seek solace in her bedchamber, while Decimus saw to an urgent matter with his men.

She sat on the bed giving thought to his words. The idea that she would bear Decimus's children horrified her. Was that why she had not given the idea thought before? And what of Michael?

She placed a tender hand to her belly. What if she already carried his child? She had not even considered the possibility, or had she not wanted to? It would be a joy to have Michael's child. But to have Decimus raise the babe?

A heavy sigh had her throwing herself back on the bed. How could she let Michael's worst enemy raise his child? If there was a child. If not, she had nothing to worry about.

But what if she was with child? A child conceived from the love she shared with Michael . . .

“A foolish thought,” she admonished herself. Having Michael's child now would not be fair to Michael or the child.

A knock sounded at her door. “Mary, it is Magnus.”

She went to the door and let him in.

“I have been meaning to talk with you,” he said.

He looked burdened. “Come, let us sit by the hearth and talk.”

Mary always thought Magnus was a handsome man, and she thought he was even more so now after seeing him with Reena. They seemed to fit so perfectly together, though he was large and she small, it made no difference. When together there was no doubt the couple were in love.

He reached out and took her hand. “You were always strong. When your parents died and I took you away, you complained not and you shed your tears when you thought I could not hear you. Through the years I watched you grow into a remarkable young woman and . . .”

It seemed hard for him to continue.

“I did not want this for you, Mary. I wanted you free to live your life and to love.”

Mary squeezed his hand. “It is my turn to save you and yours as you once did for me.”

“I did not rescue you so that one day you would rescue me.”

“Perhaps you did. Perhaps this is what was meant to be all along. Perhaps my destiny has always been with Decimus.”

“That is not a thought I wish to consider.”

“Do not worry yourself, Magnus. I am resigned to my destiny. I could not have it any other way. To think that Reena, you, Brigid, Thomas, or anyone here at the keep would suffer because of me is not acceptable to me.”

“I want you to know that I will never stop trying to free you of Decimus.”

She smiled. “That is a good thought for then I will always hope.”

“Reena has hope. She feels there is something more to you wedding Decimus than anyone knows.” Magnus shook his head. “When my wife gets an idea in her head, there is no stopping her.”

“We have talked and what she says does make sense. Why would Decimus hunt me all these years? How did he
suddenly
find me? And why wed me? There are many other sinners he can reform.”

“Reena believes the man who contacted the Dark One holds the answer. Unfortunately we have not been able to discover his identity.”

Mary threw her hands up in the air in frustration. “That is what I wished to ask him.”

“Ask who what?'

Mary realized her mistake. Magnus knew nothing of her love for Michael. Reena had given her word that she would tell no one and had kept it, though Mary never doubted she would.

“There is something important you are not telling me.”

Mary hesitated, wondering how wise it was for anyone to know of her love for the Dark One. It would place them in jeopardy, which she had already done with Reena. Could she chance doing the same to Magnus?

She chose her words carefully. “The Dark One visits with me to see how I fair. I thought to ask him the identity of the man who requested his help.”

“The Dark One is a good man and was upset when he heard the news that Decimus demanded to wed you.”

She smiled. “He wished to see me safe.”

“He has guided many to safety with no regard to his own well-being. He visits you here in the keep?”

She nodded.

“He should be more careful sneaking in under Decimus's watchful eye. The man seems to see and know everything.”

“The Dark One seems to know more.”

“Still,” Magnus shook his head. “There is always a chance of him getting caught. Decimus's men just requested a meeting. They appeared anxious over something. One of them could have spotted the Dark One and they, at this moment, could be setting a trap for him.”

Mary stood. “We should find out.”

“Not an easy task. They are well trained in keeping their own counsel.”

“We can try,” she said, intending to protect the man she loved from harm. If Decimus's men were out to capture the Dark One, she would see their plans foiled.

By evening nothing had been learned. Decimus's men remained tight-lipped, sharing nothing with anyone in the village nor were they overheard discussing any news.

Mary wanted the Dark One to visit again soon, and then she did not want him to visit at all. She was selfish in her desire for him, yet concerned for his safety, which meant it would be wiser for him to keep his distance from her.

Then there was her question. Who was the mysterious man who requested the Dark One's help with Mary? Was he friend or foe? And could he answer her many questions?

The next few days were a whirlwind of activities. Plans for the wedding took priority and everyone in the keep was busy preparing for the ceremony and celebration.

Decimus had given strict orders that the affair be a joyous celebration. Magnus saw no point in arguing that few saw the wedding as a cheerful occasion of Mary's good fortune. Mary was the reason he agreed to a festive celebration, and the villagers would attend out of duty, fear, and respect for her.

Mary did the best she could to keep her spirits up as her wedding day drew closer, but it was not an easy task. Her thoughts lingered on Michael, who had not visited with her since she had been ill. She wondered over his health and safety and if he was risking his life to help others.

When she could, she would sneak away to the woods and sit in the solitude of the trees and the blossoming spring growth. Spring was in full bloom. The trees and flowers were vibrant with color, the earth's soil rich and ripe with plants.

Here amongst nature's beauty she would settle, relax and sing a gentle tune. Her singing calmed her and brought her peace, and no one but the animals and birds could hear her.

She sat today, the spring air warm, the sweet scent of freshly bloomed flowers strong in the air, and her thoughts chaotic. In two days she would wed Decimus and be bound to him for life.

She had not thought to ask him where they would make their home and it concerned her. How would Michael visit with her if he did not know where she was? She thought to ask if she could visit with Reena and Brigid on occasion and then perhaps Michael could visit her there. She tended to believe, however, that Decimus would keep her isolated and that her life would be a solitary one.

The burden of her thoughts weighted her shoulders and she sat with her head drooped and her legs folded beneath her on the hard ground. She purposely wore her plain skirt and blouse, thinking this would probably be the last time she dressed simply.

It would be the last time she would simply be Mary.

In two days she would be wife to Decimus and lose her freedom.

Arms draped in black wrapped around her so quickly, yet gently, that she jumped.

“I have missed you,” Michael said, squeezing her back tightly to his chest.

Mary firmly grasped the arm wrapped around her waist. “I had so hoped you would come to me again. But it is selfish of me for you may be in danger.”

“Worry not,” he whispered, his shroud-covered face pressed next to hers. “They are led on a wild goose chase.”

“You have been well and safe, then?”

“And I will continue to be well and safe.”

“I wed in two days,” she said with sorrow. “And I know not where I will live.”

“Listen to me well, Mary,” he said with a firm gruffness. “I will always know your whereabouts and I will never be far from you.”

“You have no idea how your words relieve my worry.”

“And you,” he murmured, “have no idea how much I wish to make love to you.”

She sighed. “I had so hoped that we could love once more before I wed Decimus.”

“We can, we will, we must,” he said, turning her face to slip his lips over hers and kiss her with a contained passion that ached to be released. “There is a secluded spot a short distance from here, but you must—”

“Keep my eyes closed,” she said with a soft laugh. “But someday,” she warned with a poke to his arm, “I will discover your secret.”

She felt his body stiffen.

“God help us both, when you do.”

She turned in his arms. “I pray that God will help and that one day we will be together.”

They walked to an area draped with vines and tree branches that had formed a secluded hut. Michael spread the branches apart and she entered. It was small with only a dapple of light shining through, a perfect haven for them to make love.

He took her in his arms. “With us so near to the village, I do not think it wise that we disrobe.”

She understood the wisdom of his words, but she wanted so badly to feel the length of him against her.

“I know it disappoints you,” he said, his hand stroking her face. “But your safety comes first.”

“Your mask, at least?”

“Then I must—”

“Blindfold me.” She nodded. “I trust you, Michael, I always have and I always will.”

He gently covered her eyes with his cloth belt and tied it securely around the back of her head. She waited as he removed his mask and when his warm cheek pressed to her cool one, she sighed and draped her arms around his neck.

“You feel so very good.”

He was clean-shaven, not a stubble on his smooth face, and she did not want him to stop rubbing his cheek with hers. She did not however complain when his lips followed the path his cheek had begun. He kissed every inch of her face and her legs trembled from the anticipation of their joining.

He eased her to the ground and when she reached to slip her hand beneath his shroud, he grabbed her arm.

“Nay, you must not. Let me love you.”

“But I wish to touch you, feel you, know your flesh once again.”

“Not this time, Mary,” he said with regret. “Our time together is short and I wish to love you in a manner you will never forget.”

“I wish to love you in return,” she argued.

“Another time.”

“There will be another time? You promise me this?”

He nibbled at her lips. “I promise there will be many more times.”

She acquiesced and let him love her.

He removed not a stitch of clothing. He released the ties of her blouse as he kissed her lips, softly and slowly, then fast and urgently. His fingers slipped inside her blouse to tease her nipples until they turned hard. He then trailed down her neck with his lips sending gooseflesh racing over her with each lick, nibble, and kiss.

He finally made his way to her nipples and when his mouth claimed the solid orb, his hand inched his way beneath her skirt to stroke her inner thighs.

Mary bit her lower lip, knowing she must not make a sound but aching to scream with the fiery passion he had awakened within her. His fingertips crawled slowly along her thighs, inching between her legs and she instantly grew wet with anticipation.

He captured her lips and they kissed deeply, quenching their thirst and love for each other.

“I wish there was more time,” he whispered. “I want to love you all day.”

“I do not want this to end,” she cried, her tears contained by her blindfold.

“I wish, oh how I wish, Mary,” he murmured and slipped over her, entering her slowly until he rested full-length inside her.

She sighed. “I love you, Michael.”

His groan was barely audible. “I love you more than you will ever know.”

With that he moved inside her and she joined his rhythm, so familiar to her and so very satisfying. They took their time, though knowing they had little left. And they climbed together in their passion, holding on to each other, urging each other, and loving each other, until as one, they exploded together.

The clung to each other, neither one willing to let the other go.

They both became alert when they heard a scurry of footfalls, then realized it was a small animal passing by.

Michael took the blindfold off her after securing his hood, and Mary quickly adjusted her clothing.

“I cannot say when I will see you again,” Michael said, pulling a twig from Mary's long blond braid.

“As long as
you will
see me again,” she said with concern.

“I made you a promise. I will not break it.”

“Unless,” she was quick to say, “you feel yourself in danger, then you must promise me you will stay away.”

“I promise,” he said without hesitation.

She sighed relieved, for Michael was a man of his word.

He took her hand in his, slipped it under his mask, and kissed her palm. “Know that my heart and soul will be with you on the day you wed Decimus.”

She rested her hand to his cheek. “I will be thinking of you.”

“I am glad to hear that, for then you know you are loved.” He took her hand. “It is time to go.”

“Wait,” she said remembering the question she wished to ask of him as he spread the branches and stepped outside. She quickly followed him. “There is something I must know.”

“We do not have much time, can it not wait?”

She shook her head and asked her question. “I need to know who requested your help in finding me.”

“Magnus asked for my help.”