Dark Warrior Page 10

  Sadness gripped her heart. Was there not even a small chance for them?

  “I wish I could explain, for I see it causes you pain, but it is not for me to tell you,” Roarke said with sympathy. “It is Michael you must speak with.”

  “Can you tell me nothing?” She sounded as though she begged like an animal for a small scrap of food, for anything that would feed her need. Her weakness annoyed her but she understood it came from deep inside, where feelings nestled and grew.

  Roarke took pity on her and leaned forward, bracing his arms on the table and looking ready to tell her a tale.

  She waited with hope in her heart.

  “Michael knows the ills of the suffering for he suffered greatly himself.”

  “He was tortured?”

  “Ask me no questions, Mary. Listen and take what little I can offer you.”

  She quickly nodded, impatient for him to continue.

  “His own suffering brought with it a vow of vengeance, a vow that would serve the greater good. He committed himself to that vow; it is his life.”

  “But what of love? Is he not entitled to love?”

  “He surrendered his life when he took that vow.”

  “You are telling me that I cannot be selfish and expect him to forsake his vow for our love.”

  “Aye,” he admitted. “I want you aware of the pain your love may cause the both of you.”

  “But—”

  “Wait, let me finish. I have watched Michael endlessly give with no thought to himself. And I, as his friend, know that he cannot go on like this forever. It is a lonely, isolated existence . . .” He paused a moment and, almost in a whisper, as though he were not sure if he should voice his thoughts, said, “I sometimes think he punishes himself over and over—”

  “For his sister’s death.”

  “And his mother’s.”

  “His mother?”

  Roarke shook his head. “This is why it is better I say nothing. Once I start talking I do not stop.”

  “But he told me of his sister,” she reminded him.

  “If he had told you the whole story then he would have told you about his mother. They are the reason he became the Dark One.”

  “I want to love him, help him, free him.”

  “I wish that were possible,” Roarke said sadly, “but Michael must free himself.”

  “Sometimes we need help.”

  “Trust me, Mary, there is nothing you can do to help him.”

  “I do not believe that.”

  “You do not want to believe that,” Roarke said. “And I admire you for your courage, but it will do you little good against the strength of the Dark One.”

  “I have survived much suffering myself, and I would not have done so if it were not for my parents. They taught me courage and they taught me strength, and that both could not be gained without love.”

  “I know of your father and his beliefs. He was respected and admired by many, and his teachings continue to live on.”

  “I am glad to hear that,” Mary said. “And I would not be my father’s daughter if I did not fight for my own beliefs. And I believe that Michael and I will one day share a life and love.”

  “I would like to believe the same,” Roarke said. “But believe me when I say you do not know the reality of what you face.”

  “Decimus?”

  “Rest assured, he will stand in your way.”

  “Then I will have to move him out of my way.”

  “It is said he is pure evil,” Roarke said as though warning her.

  “Do you not believe that love can conquer evil?”

  “I would like to think it were possible, but I have seen Decimus’s wrath and what is left in its wake.” He shook his head. “I do not know if love is strong enough to deal with such terror.”

  “Do you know much about Decimus?”

  “Want to know your enemy?”

  “How can a warrior enter battle and expect victory with no knowledge of his enemy? I have been protected since I was young and it has done me little good. I must know this man who chases after me if I am ever to be free.”

  “The Dark One will make certain you get to freedom.”

  “The Dark One,” she repeated with a sad smile. “Not Michael?”

  “You must leave Michael behind to do what he must.”

  She shook her head. “I cannot do that. I will not do that.”

  “There is nothing you can do for Michael.”

  “I believe there is. Will you tell me about Decimus?’

  “I do not see what good it will do.”

  “Then you have nothing to lose by telling me what you know of the man.”

  “You are stubborn.”

  “Nay, I know what I must do to free not only myself but Michael.”

  “How will you, a woman with no battle skills, free Michael?”

  Mary shook her head. “I do not know. I only know I must try.”

  Chapter 14

  “Decimus approaches the village.”

  Magnus, earl of Dunhurnal crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Make certain the villagers see our force of strength so that they feel protected. I want every warrior’s presence known.”

  The warrior gave a quick nod and left to do his lord’s bidding.

  “What does Decimus want with us?” Reena asked as she walked up to stand beside her husband on the keep’s steps. Her constant companion, Horace, a large hound, followed behind her.

  “Go in the castle. Your presence is not needed here.”

  She tilted her head to look up at the infamous Legend, a feared warrior whose exploits were well known throughout the Celtic lands. She sent him a smile to remind him that issuing orders did not work well with her. She would not run and hide while danger was about to descend on the village.

  He shook his head. “I should know better.” Magnus took her chin between his fingers and rubbed at a smudge. “If you intend to make an impression, which you always do, it would be best not to make it with ink on your chin.”

  Reena waited patiently while he rid her of the mark and felt her heart swell with love. That he was the infamous Legend did not matter to her, that he was a handsome man whose features could steal women’s hearts, that he was a strong and courageous warrior were all unimportant compared to the fact that he loved her, Reena, a simple mapmaker.

  “I love you.”

  He kissed her. “And I love you more than you know.”

  She laughed. “I know how much you love me.” She lowered her voice. “You show me every night.”

  He spoke in a whisper. “And if the devil were not at my gate, I would show you how much I love you right now.”

  She took hold of his arm, her smile fading. “What could Decimus want with us?”

  He pushed a lose strand of her long black hair behind her ear and met her inquisitive blue eyes. “We will find out soon. Remember Decimus is a powerful man. He has the power of the Church and the king behind him and even they fear him. Tread lightly in his presence and hold your tongue.”

  She nodded. “I will do as you say.”

  Thomas approached, a giant of a man in height and width, a good friend to Magnus and husband to Reena’s best friend, Brigid.

  Villagers drifted up behind him, gathering in a crowd, seeking the strength and protection of their lord.

  Thomas joined Magnus on the step below him. “They are frightened and there is gossip that even the Legend may not be able to protect them from Decimus. Do you know why he comes here?”

  “I have a thought and it concerns me, no other.”

  Reena was quick to object. “What concerns you concerns us all.”

  “She is right,” Thomas agreed. “We stand together.”

  “This might be one time we have no choice but to stand apart.”

  Thomas and Reena had no chance to respond. The crowd had swelled to include nearly everyone in the village; her friend Brigid was sneaking up behind her husband and sending Reena a
fearful look.

  Reena understood her friend’s apprehension. It was a day such as this when a new lord rode into their village and killed Brigid’s first husband. The suffering was behind her now thanks to Thomas, but she imagined Brigid worried that sorrow would befall the village once again.

  Whispers rushed like a sharp wind through the gathered crowd and turned to a sudden silence when Decimus and his men were spotted. They were in the distance, but fear that their words could reach his ears made everyone hold their tongues.

  Horace growled, standing at full alert, and Reena ordered him to sit and be still. He sat, but a low growl continued deep in his throat.

  Decimus approached on a fine black steed, the horse dressed in silk finery. A purple face mask and a gold blanket with two large purple crosses on either side were draped over the animal and pronounced the rider royalty of the Church.

  Many villagers kneeled as the horse passed by them, not daring to gaze upon the man who rode him.

  Decimus stopped in front of the steps of the keep, dismounted, and tossed his reins to a man that rushed to his side. He remained where he was, glancing around at the crowd. His dark eyes settled on the group waiting on the steps.

  Reena found herself unable to take her eyes off him. If the devil had climbed out of hell, he would surely look like this man. Black hair the color of a starless night sky was drawn tightly back away from his face. His eyes were just as dark and could very well resemble the recesses of hell itself. His skin looked weathered by the sun yet his face held not a line or wrinkle and no expression marred his darkly disturbing features. And yet once your gaze rested on him, it was hard to pull away. It was said that Decimus could see your soul, and if it were not pure you would suffer his wrath.

  He was tall and slimmer than Magnus and looked fit in form. He was dressed in fine silks and linens of black and purple and he wore two rings, one a blood-red garnet and the other a dazzling blue sapphire.

  He turned a slow gaze on the surrounding crowd and they bowed their heads, with some falling to their knees, their hands clasped in prayer. He nodded, pleased by their supplication, then advanced up the steps with a confident gait.

  Decimus stopped in front of Magnus, ignoring those around him.

  “We have matters to discuss.”

  “May I offer you food and drink first?” Magnus asked in an attempt to be civil to the devil.

  “Have it served in your private solar; this matter is between you and I.”

  Decimus bumped Magnus’s shoulder as he pushed past him and entered the keep.

  Magnus looked to Thomas whose face grew red with anger over the insult to his lord. “You heard him. It is between him and me. Keep the warriors alert and make certain Decimus’s men are confined to one area.”

  Reena caught her husband’s arm, preventing him from entering the keep. “Give him what he wants and send him on his way; he is evil.”

  “I will.”

  A servant directed Decimus to the solar, hastily left a platter of food on the table, then scurried out. Once outside the room, the young lass crossed herself and whispered a series of prayers as she hurried down the steps.

  Magnus entered a few moments later, filled two goblets with wine, and handed one to Decimus. He then gestured for him to sit in one of the two chairs near the fireplace.

  “This matter can be settled without difficulty or suffering; it is up to you.”

  “I have done nothing that should bring me difficulty or cause me suffering,” Magnus said confidently.

  “Are you certain of that?”

  Magnus drank his wine, purposely delaying his reply to demonstrate to Decimus that he did not fear him. “Quite certain.”

  “What of Mary?”

  “Mary?” Magnus inquired.

  “Do not think me a fool, Magnus. You know of whom I speak. I have learned that you have protected her these many years, but no more. You will surrender Mary to me or you and that quick-witted wife of yours will suffer.”

  Magnus stared at him.

  “You wonder how I know about your wife’s sharp wit. There is not much I do not know. I have eyes and ears everywhere.”

  “Yet you cannot find Mary.”

  The only indication that Magnus’s remark angered Decimus was a slight flaring of his nostrils. “But I have found her. You have her and you will give her to me.”

  Magnus kept a tight rein on the anger that was slowly rising in him. He detested being backed into a corner, yet how could he honor his vow to Mary’s parents to protect her and protect his wife at the same time?

  “I will be generous and allow you a week to surrender Mary to me,” Decimus informed him.

  “And if I do not?”

  Decimus shrugged as if it made no difference. “Then I will interrogate your wife. I hear she is adept at mapping and drawing.” He stared at the wine in his goblet. “I wonder where her skills originated?” His dark eyes shifted to Magnus. “And what type of drawings does she do? There is much I can question her about, and if I don’t like her answer—” Another shrug. “I will work with her until I receive an acceptable one.”

  Magnus remained silent, though his hand clenched at his side.

  Decimus leaned forward in his chair. “You would love to kill me right now, would you not, Magnus?”

  Magnus wanted to lunge at the man and choke him for threatening his wife’s life.

  Decimus leaned back in his chair, not a smile or snicker on his face, but with a subtle shift of his body that let Magnus know his word was law even in Magnus’s own keep. And there was absolutely nothing Magnus could do about it.

  “I almost had her, you know,” Decimus said quite irritated. “She was safely locked away in one of my dungeons when suddenly she disappeared. Would you have any notion how she may have made her escape?”

  It was Magnus’s turn to shrug and he forced himself to take a swallow of wine, hoping the liquid would prevent his venomous thoughts from reaching his lips.

  “Logic tells me that she could not have made an escape on her own. She had given my men quite a chase, and when the idiots finally caught her they mistakenly made her suffer. Of course they suffered for their stupidity. I and I alone pronounce judgment and punish wicked souls.”

  The man’s arrogance astonished Magnus. He actually believed that he was a righteous man doing God’s work.

  Decimus leaned an elbow on the thick arm of the wooden chair and rubbed his chin. “How do you think Mary escaped?”

  Magnus waited as if giving his question thought, then shook his head. “I do not know.”

  Decimus lowered his hand. “I think you do. I think you sent someone to rescue Mary.”

  Magnus refused to refute his accusation, after all it was true and they both knew it. He would not give him the satisfaction of denying it. His silence would speak for him.

  “You were wise in sending someone rather than attempting the rescue yourself, but then I never thought you a foolish man. That is why I know you will not be foolish now. You will surrender Mary to me. You really have no choice. It is either her or your wife, then your friends until there is no one left but you.”

  Magnus took another sip of wine to prevent his rage from spewing forth.

  Decimus stood suddenly. “I did not know that the Dark One was an acquaintance of yours.” He walked to the table and refilled his wine goblet.

  Magnus had already surmised that Decimus knew who helped Mary escape. The man obviously enjoyed playing games with his captive, hoping he would make an error and provide him with further evidence of guilt.

  “You choose silence, another wise move.” Decimus returned to his chair. “Most people talk out of fear, hoping to convince me of their innocence until their foolish tongues help pronounce them guilty. But as I remarked before, you are not foolish, Magnus.”

  Magnus waited for Decimus to continue. He obviously had more to say or this conversation would have ended by now. What else did Decimus expect from him?

  �
��The Dark One is a thorn in my side that I will one day extract with pleasure. He will suffer more than he ever thought possible.”

  Magnus had received word of Mary’s successful rescue and her safety, and he knew that the Dark One would be in touch with him soon so that a decision could be made about her future. That decision had just turned more serious than Magnus ever imagined.

  “He eludes me at every turn, which means he must possess powers far beyond the ordinary. And if that is so then you know what that means, do you not?”

  Magnus shrugged.

  “The man is obviously a cohort of the devil.”

  He certainly had that one scrambled. If anyone was a cohort of the devil it was Decimus, and the Dark One the avenging angel here to destroy him.

  “The devil always shows himself, you know, and that is when it is easy to snare him. The Dark One will one day be mine and I will torture the devil out of him, purifying his soul and setting him free.”

  Magnus kept silent. He would never capture the Dark One, and if Decimus were not careful it would be the Dark One who sent his soul where it belonged—straight to hell.

  “Enough of the Dark One,” Decimus said. “It is Mary that matters at the moment.” He stood. “One week, Magnus. You have one week to give her to me.”

  “I may need more time.” He knew not where the Dark One had taken Mary, and, besides, he wanted time to see if there was another way to settle this problem.

  “One week,” Decimus said and walked to the door. “I know it is not much time for you to make a choice, but then you have no choice.”

  “What do you intend to do with her?”

  Decimus stopped and turned. “I intend to save her soul and return her to God’s good graces.”

  “By torture and death?” Magnus was disgusted with the thought of Mary suffering.

  “Nay, by making her my wife.”

  Chapter 15

  Magnus stared at the closed door. Surely Decimus was insane to think that he would surrender Mary to wed the evil likes of him. He could not condemn an innocent young woman to a life of such cruelty. But what choices did he have?

  Magnus heard the creak of the door and watched as it opened slowly. He was relieved to see his wife peek her head in. He had no desire to speak with Decimus again so soon. The man sparked his temper with one arrogant glance.