Highlander The Demon Lord

by Donna Fletcher

  Adara could not stop her heart from going out to the woman. Age had stolen her beauty or perhaps adversities had been the culprit. Whatever it had been, it appeared to have defeated her.

  She was about to look away when the woman opened her eyes. Pale green with a touch of yellow like the catkins that appear on the trees at the first sign of spring.

  Adara took a step closer. Could it be? Was it possible? It had been what? Five or more years?

  The woman barely opened her eyes, though upon seeing Adara, they turned wide and, unable to speak, she mouthed, Adara.

  “Maia!” Adara cried out and rushed forward.

  Chapter 16

  “Free her. Free her now!” Adara cried out and rushed forward.

  Warrick let go of the woman’s hair and stepped in front of her, preventing Adara from reaching the woman. He grabbed her arm when she went to step around him. “You do not make demands of me, wife.”

  Villagers stopped and stared, their eyes wide, having heard Adara’s outburst and feared for her safety.

  “Go about your chores,” Warrick yelled out, casting a scowl on those around them and the people scurried off, whispering prayers for the petite woman who had been good to them upon their chieftain’s death.

  Adara caught sight of Langdon, looking reluctant to leave, as he took slow steps away from the scene. He shook his head and his eyes seemed to plead with her not to defy her husband. They were worried. They were all worried for her.

  “We will discuss this in the keep,” Warrick said and, keeping his grip tight on her arm, went to walk away.

  “No. No,” Adara cried out, paying no mind to the warnings sent her way, her fingers digging at his where they dug into her arm. A futile attempt, his strength far superior to hers, but still she tried. “You must free her now. She is my friend.”

  “She is no friend when she attempts to kill you,” Warrick said and began to drag her away.

  Adara grabbed at his arm while trying to dig her feet into the soil to stop him from taking her away. “She must be sick. She needs help.”

  “She needs and deserves to be punished.” He gave her arm a yank and she fell forward against him. “You will calm now, wife, and walk with me to the keep to discuss this or, I promise you, you will regret your actions.”

  His harsh tone alone warned her to obey him, and she did.

  Adara realized her mistake as she hurried her steps to keep up with his powerful strides. She had defied her husband in front of the clan. Would he make her suffer for it? Would he have her tied to the other post?

  As soon as he closed the door to his solar, she did what she was accustomed to doing. “Forgive my foolish outburst, my lord.”

  His hand still firm on her arm, Warrick lowered his face close to hers. “Remember what I warned you, that things repeated often through the years mean little or nothing after a while. I will have nothing but the truth from your lips.”

  Truth. Did she dare speak it? Did she have a choice? “It was a foolish outburst.”

  He released her arm then and stepped away from her. “But you are not sorry for making it?”

  Truth. She had to keep her words truthful. “I regret how I spoke to you, but not what I said. I do want my friend set free.”

  “She tried to take your life and still you think she is your friend?” he asked annoyed at her actions, yet amazed at her courage in having dared to speak to him as she had done. And more impressed that she kept to the truth after he had warned her. Was his trust important to her? Or did she play a game as many women did?

  “She must not have known it was me. I have not seen her in years. I did not recognize her at first as she did me. Please, Warrick, imprison her if you must, but please, please remove her from the post and let her at least have some food.”

  Warrick knew all too well the consequences of granting his wife’s plea. It would show him as weak and that was something he was not. “My word is law and I will not change it.”

  “Give her a chance, please,” Adara begged. “I am sure she will speak to me if given the chance.”

  “You will speak to her with me there beside you and with her remaining secured to the post,” he said, not taking a chance that the woman would harm his wife. “Tell me how you know her.”

  “She is the woman who told me about the Vikings. I met her in the woods one day. She was there cleaning garments in the stream. She talked to me of many things. She taught me much. She showed me friendship, kindness, neither of which I had known.”

  Warrick walked over to her. “I will not release her and risk harm to you and I will not rescind my command.”

  “Please let me speak to her now and see if there is something she may say that will change your mind,” Adara pleaded.

  “You can speak to her if you wish with me present, but I will not have you hope only to be disappointed. She will pay for her foolish actions.”

  A swell of fear rose up in Adara for her friend and what she would suffer. Or how she, herself, could watch such suffering and do nothing to help her.

  Warrick reached out, his hand going to rest on her shoulder. “You are upset, perhaps you should wait to—”

  “No. No,” Adara said, shaking her head and stepping away from him. “I must speak to her now.”

  Warrick was not happy that she backed away, avoiding his touch. He was about to deny her, but he was wise enough to know it would be more prudent to let her speak with the woman now and be done with it. Once she saw that the woman made no sense and was a threat to her own and their child’s safety, she would accept his command. Not that she needed to accept or approve, better she understood that his word was law and nothing would change that. But he felt that he had made that clear and she would argue no more.

  They walked once again out of the keep, though this time, she hurried a few steps ahead of him instead of walking alongside him, holding his hand. He grew annoyed, having come to favor her hand in his.

  “You will keep a safe distance,” Warrick ordered when his wife rushed toward the woman.

  Adara slowed her steps and warned herself to follow his word or risk not being able to speak to Maia at all. She stopped a short distance in front of her and called out to the woman.

  “Maia. Maia, it is me, Adara.”

  The woman’s head lifted and joy sparked in her eyes for a moment before fading to fear. “Run. Run and hide. Do not let him get you.”

  “I am safe, Maia. There is no need to worry over me.”

  Warrick came to stand behind her and Maia’s eyes bulged at the sight of him.

  “Run from the devil and his whore.”

  Adara cringed. “I am his wife, Maia, and he treats me well.”

  Maia let lose a sorrowful whine that echoed through the village, shivering people where they stood and had Roark and several of Warrick’s warriors rushing toward him and stopping abruptly when he raised his hand.

  “Noooo. Noooo. It cannot be,” Maia continued to whine.

  “All is good, Maia. I am safe,” Adara said, trying to reassure the woman.

  “No!” she shouted so suddenly and with such venom that Warrick stepped in front of his wife, shielding her.

  “Never safe!” Maia screamed. “Never. Never. Never.”

  Warrick turned and with an arm around his wife, forced her to step away.

  “You did not listen. I failed. Run!” she screeched. “Run before it is too—”

  With a signal from Warrick, a cloth was shoved into the woman’s mouth while his hand remained firm on his wife, guiding her away and into the keep. He sat her at the table near the hearth in the Great Hall and ordered a hot brew brought for her.

  Adara had felt the pain of losing Maia those many years ago when she had been abruptly sent to live with another family never to see her again. She felt even more pain now seeing what had become of her friend and losing her all over again.

  “I do not understand what happened to her,” Adara said, her words meant more for herself than
her husband, though he responded.

  “Sometimes things cannot be explained no matter how much we want them to make sense.” He placed the tankard the servant handed to him in his wife’s hands. “Drink.”

  She sat it down. “My stomach will not tolerate it.” She looked up at him, standing beside her. “Perhaps Espy could help her.”

  Warrick gently brushed a strand of blonde hair off her face and behind her ear. “I know it troubles you to see her like that, but she is crazed and a danger to you. There is nothing that can be done.”

  Adara did not want to believe it, but she knew any further discussion with her husband on the matter would prove futile, and perhaps it would.

  Roark entered the Great Hall and Warrick left her side to go speak with him and so went the remainder of the day. Roark and warriors coming and going, speaking with Warrick, following his command until Adara found the noise and busyness too much.

  She stood and turned to see Warrick’s eyes on her. “I go to rest.”

  He nodded and she climbed the stairs slowly, her limbs feeling much too heavy, but then this matter with Maia rested heavily on her shoulders. Something about it made no sense.

  You did not listen.

  What had Maia meant that Adara had not listened and what had Maia failed at? Or was it simply the ramblings of a crazed woman?

  Adara dropped down on the bed after entering the room, the last few troubling hours having worn her out. Sleep quickly took hold of her and she was glad for it, her mind needing as much rest as her body.

  A crack of thunder, sounding as if it had split the room in two, woke her and ran a chill through her. A storm was brewing. She turned with a stretch and noticed the fire in the hearth had dwindled. She burrowed herself beneath the warmth of the blankets. The servants should have checked on the fires in all the rooms by now. She wondered what had kept them.

  Reluctantly, she slipped out of bed and shivered when her bare feet touched the cold floor and she hurried to add logs to the fire. She was quick to get her shoes on and smooth the few wrinkles out of her garments as best she could. She ran her bone comb through her hair with haste and took the stairs down with just as much haste.

  The Great Hall was alive with noise and activity, though no one sat at the tables to eat. Warriors waited in groups, weapons strapped to their backs, and at their sides, as if ready for battle.

  Adara stared in horror. Could they truly be facing battle? She searched the room for her husband and when she could not find him, her heart began to beat a bit faster and that feeling of dread that she felt far too often began to poke at her. She hurried her glance around the room again. He would not be difficult to spot, his height taller than most, so why could she not find him. Her heartbeat quickened even more and the sudden fright to flee hit her. As she turned to run, she spotted him, entering the room, his eyes instantly falling on hers as if he knew exactly where she was. He did not hesitate. He took quick steps toward her while she remained where she was, the noise in the room deafening and her limbs frozen.

  When he got close his arms reached out for her and she rushed into them, locking her slim arms around him as far as they would go and squeezing him with all the strength she could muster.

  “You are safe,” Warrick said, knowing that was what she needed to hear, having seen the fright in her wide eyes.

  Aye, she was now that she was in his arms, but she did not say that, she could not find her voice. She nodded instead.

  “There has been an altercation between two nearby clans. One has pledged allegiance to me, and I must go and see the clan protected.”

  The thought of him leaving upset her, not that it made sense to her. She had done fine without him before. There was no reason she would not do so again, so why was she upset with the prospect of his absence?

  Safe.

  He kept her safe.

  “I leave more than enough warriors behind to protect you and I do not think it will take more than a day or two to see the matter settled.”

  That should have relieved any worries she had, but it did not. “Roark cannot go in your stead?” she asked, her voice returning and her fright still a flutter in her stomach.

  “He comes with me to all battles, though I hope it will not come to that. I expect to persuade the other clan to pledge allegiance to me as well and stop the frequent feuding among the two clans. There is no need for worry. You will be safe.” He would repeat that again and again for as long as she needed to hear it.

  “You will be careful.”

  “Is that an order?” he asked a slight tease in his voice.

  Adara surprised herself with a quick kiss to her husband’s lips and her own playful response, “It is and you will obey it.”

  “Or what?” he asked and she thought she heard a rumble of laughter almost break free.

  A shout from Roark had Warrick turning and seeing Roark’s frantic summons, he looked to his wife. “I must go. You are safe. I will return soon.” He brought his lips down on hers and kissed her as if he feared he would never see her again, lingering, making sure to commit her taste to memory, which was not difficult since he could never forget it, never wanted to.

  Then he was gone, leaving her staring after him.

  She sent him her response on a whisper, though it would never reach him. “Or you will shatter my heart.”

  Love is tricky. It pulls at the heart and tricks the mind.

  Maia’s words struck her unexpectedly. Could that have been what she had meant when she had said you did not listen?

  But she was not in love with Warrick. Then why had she believed he would shatter her heart if he did not stay safe and return to her? Was she losing her heart to him? Or had she already lost it to him on their wedding night? That night lived long in her memory and so had the thought that that was what love must feel like.

  Thinking on it now, had her mind played tricks on her? Had she ached so badly to be loved that she had believed what she and Warrick had shared was love? She was Warrick’s wife and he was her husband. She had a duty to him as he did to her. He had fulfilled his duty that night making certain their vows were consummated. And it was his duty to keep her safe. He did not love her and she should not be foolish and let the tugs at her heart trick her with unwise thoughts, hopes or dreams. She had wasted enough years on such things.

  The Great Hall emptied out fast and Adara trailed behind the exiting warriors to peek past the door and watch her husband mount and lead his warriors out of the village. Try as she might, she could not stop the pang of pain in her heart at his departure.

  “Come sup and warm yourself by the fire, my lady,” Wynn said from behind her. “A storm brews, bringing a cold wind with it.”

  Adara closed the door, turned, and followed Wynn to the table by the hearth. It was while she was eating, her mind still on her husband that a disturbing thought invaded her musings.

  How would Maia ever survive the storm?

  Adara’s appetite deserted her. How could she sit here in the warmth and safety of the keep while Maia went hungry and battled the storm that would soon descend on them? Should she help the woman? If she went against her husband’s word, would he tie her to the post as he had threatened to do to anyone who helped Maia? And was Maia more a threat to her than the possible consequences she would suffer if she helped the woman?

  Too upset to eat anymore, Adara went to her solar, hoping to keep her thoughts busy with her stitching. Unfortunately, the continued thunder and lightning kept Maia ever present in her thoughts.

  The rain had yet to start when Adara slipped into bed with prayers for her friend and fear of what her husband might do if she dared to help Maia.

  She was woken once again by a sharp crack of thunder and a splash of rain upon the window. This time there was no hesitation, no questioning her decision. Too many times through the years, she had wished someone would help her out of her dire situation. No one ever did. She could not do the same to Maia, no matter how fearful she was
of the consequences.

  Adara hurried to dress, making sure to don extra garments to protect against the rain. With it being late into the night, no one was about. She was able to gather food in a sack in the kitchen and she took one of the cloaks that hung by the door. Last, she grabbed a knife, a big one, and headed out the door to free Maia.

  Chapter 17

  Adara kept the hood of her cloak tucked low over her head as she moved amongst the shadows of the night. The rain was not falling heavily, but in time it would and she needed to free Maia before it did. She made sure to look for signs of any of Warrick’s warriors. They lurked about and could not always be spotted and she worried that her husband left more guards on duty in his absence.

  She halted her steps when she spotted a dark shadow slip past Maia. With the guard having just been there, it gave her time to free the woman and hurry her away before he returned again, if he returned at all. If she was lucky, it might have been his last patrol for the night.

  Not wasting a minute, Adara rushed to Maia.

  “Maia, it is me, Adara. I have come to free you,” Adara whispered, taking the knife to the rope.

  The woman did not respond and thinking she might be too late to help the woman, Adara placed her hand beneath Maia’s chin and lifted her head and kept repeating her name softly while she continued to cut at the rope.

  Finally, her name fell in a whisper from Maia’s lips, “Adara.”

  “Aye, it is me. I will have you free soon.”

  Maia struggled to say, “Go. Save yourself.”

  “Not without you.” Adara thanked the heavens that the rope was old and it took less time than she thought it would. What she had not counted on was Maia’s weakened state. The hours she had been strapped to the post had left her limbs numb and made it difficult for her to walk.

  “Lean on me,” Adara encouraged, slipping her shoulder under Maia’s arm and her limp arm around her neck.