Sword of Darkness

by Kinley MacGregor

  Even with her eyes open, she could clearly see Mistress Maude sitting at her table that was laden with succulent food. Seren and the other apprentices ate modest meals. They had never been allowed to partake of guild banquets.

  To eat until they were full…

  "Aye," Magda said in her ear. "I can see the lust for it in your eyes. Seduce the Kerrigan and you will have all that and more. Think of the softness of the gown you wear now. Imagine an entire wardrobe of them."

  Seren ran her hand over the delicate fabric that didn't chafe or scratch. It settled against her skin like the coolness of water. "It is not for a peasant to reach for better. Our lot—"

  "You were born for greater things, child. Accept it."

  But that was easier said than done. How could she accept something that completely contradicted everything she'd ever been told?

  A knock sounded on the door. Magda jumped away from her as the black portal opened to show her the sight of a misshapen gray creature dressed in a robe that matched its skin tone. It glared at Magda, who quickly scooted away, then shifted its cold gaze back to her.

  "The master bids you to join him in the hall."

  Seren glanced to Magda, who patted her own neck to remind Seren of the amulet. Taking a deep breath for courage, Seren nodded, then headed for the creature.

  It led her down a dismally black corridor. She gasped as she realized that the torches only lit as they approached them. The instant they walked past, the light was extinguished. Amazed by it, Seren stopped to examine one. It was a peculiar sconce. It looked as if a black human hand held the small torch. Her heart hammering, she reached out to touch it.

  The hand moved.

  Seren screamed in startled alarm, jumping away from it. The creature laughed at her, then pushed her closer to the sconce.

  "Go on, bobbin, let it feel you again."

  She screamed once more, trying to pull back.

  "Drystan!" the powerful voice echoed like thunder in the hallway.

  The creature let her go immediately.

  She turned to see Kerrigan taking long, quick strides toward them.

  He grabbed the creature and backhanded him so hard that the creature rebounded off the wall. "You do not scare her," he growled.

  He moved to strike it again, but Seren caught his hand to stop the blow. "Please, it was only a jest. No harm was done to me."

  The anger on his handsome face dissipated. The creature, whose lips were now bloodied, looked up at her with a disbelieving frown.

  Kerrigan glared at the creature as his eyes glowed red. "Out of my sight, worm."

  It scurried away from them and ran until it vanished around the bend in the corridor.

  Seren was appalled by the Kerrigan's behavior. "Why did you attack him?"

  Rage filled every part of his body. "You do not understand the rules here."

  "Nay, not if they include punishing people for small matters. Your reaction was overly harsh and unnecessary for his slight offense."

  He scoffed at her. "And if you allow him to get away with that, he will become bolder and more harmful. Trust me, I know. Unless it is immediately quelled, malice only grows."

  "I didn't feel his malice."

  "Then you are a fool."

  She stiffened at his insult. "So you keep telling me. Fine then, I shall take my foolish self back to my room where it cannot offend you any further." She started away from him.

  "I thought you were hungry."

  "I have lost my appetite."

  She continued down the hallway, without looking back. As she neared the bend that would return her to her room, Kerrigan appeared before her. "You need to eat."

  She stamped down the fear she felt at his unholy powers. It would do her no good to break off into a fit of terror. Her mother had raised her to be strong in the face of any challenge—though to be honest, she doubted if her mother had ever conceived of a challenge such as this. "If I refuse, will you beat me, too?"

  He looked confounded by her. "Why are you so angry over how I treated a grayling? He would just as soon eat your heart as look at you. The only thing they respect is someone more powerful and more sinister than they."

  "Might should never make right."

  He looked even more baffled. "What?"

  "'Tis something a bard said about the king of Camelot. The purpose of this castle was to be a protection against evil. The goal of the knights of the Round Table was to protect those who couldn't protect—"

  "There are no knights here, Seren. Only demons."

  His words gave her pause. "Does that include you?"

  "Aye, it does."

  "Then I am sorry for you, my lord. Everyone should know kindness and compassion."

  Her words seemed to anger him again. "Bah, go, return to your room. I couldn't care less whether or not you starve." He stepped around her and headed away.

  "My lord?"

  He paused to look back at her.

  "Have you a name, sir?"

  He glanced away before he answered. "Nay, I do not. I am only known by the fey title that they give to all who command demons. You may call me Kerrigan."

  Kerrigan. It was a strong name and seemed somehow suited to the role it was chosen for. However, it wasn't the name she wanted. "But the name you had before you came here? What was it?"

  His eyes blazed red fire at her. "They called me boy, bastard, or maggot. I now only answer to those with the blade of my sword."

  Her heart clenched at his words. How horrible for him to not even have something so simple as a name to call his own. "I am sorry for that, my lord. No man should be without a name."

  He cocked his head as he studied her curiously. "You're not afraid of me, are you, little mouse?"

  "Should I be?"

  "Everyone else is." His tone was cold and matter-of-fact.

  "But should I be afraid of you?"

  Kerrigan reached out to brush his hand through the softness of her hair. Aye, she should be terrified of him. He held no regard for anyone or anything. Life, whether his own or someone else's, held no meaning or value whatsoever where he was concerned.

  Yet he didn't want this tiny woman to fear him.

  "Nay, Seren. You have nothing to fear from me." He brought the lock of hair to his lips so that he could feel it against his lips, smell the faint, sweet rose scent of her.

  Seren trembled at the sight of a man so dark, so fierce, being so tender. It was incongruous and puzzling.

  He released her hair, then smoothed it down. "Come and eat, girl. You need to keep up your strength."

  She started to remind him what he had just said about not caring, but decided to hold her tongue. She was, in fact, starving.

  He held his arm out to her. Seren took it, then withdrew with a hiss. His black armor was so cold that it burned her skin. "Forgive me," he said, moving away from her. "I forgot about that."

  "Why are you so cold?"

  "'Tis the nature of my existence. My armor only knows heat when it's beneath the human sun, otherwise it's the same temperature as my skin."

  She frowned as she balled her hand into a fist to warm it. "Are you always so cold?"

  A tic started in his jaw. "Aye, little mouse. Always."

  Without another word, he led her back down the hallway to the end where two doors opened into what must have been a grand hall at one time. It was clean, but dark gray like the rest of the castle. A large, shiny, black round table was set in the center of the room, where it held precedence. Intricately carved black chairs were placed around it every few inches.

  Like Kerrigan, it was both beautiful and sinister.

  Staring at it, she wondered if it was the table of legend. "Is that—"

  "Nay," Kerrigan interrupted quickly. "This is le cercle du damné. It is similar to Arthur's Round Table, but very different."

  "How so?"

  He pulled a chair out for her where one of the places at the table was set with trencher, food, and a golden goblet. "Have a sea
t, Seren."

  She did as he bade.

  "Drink."

  "But my goblet is empty." The words had barely left her lips before wine appeared in it. She looked at it suspiciously.

  An amused light seemed to dance in Kerrigan's midnight eyes. "There is no spell in your food, mouse. You may eat and drink in peace."

  Still, she hesitated as she sniffed at the scented wine. "Can I trust you to be honest with me?"

  "Nay, you cannot. Ever. But in this, I do not lie. Eat without fear."

  There was far too much food for one person to consume. "Would you care to join me?"

  Kerrigan looked longingly at the food before he shook his head. How he wished he could sample that fare, but he hadn't tasted food in countless centuries.

  He moved to the other side of the table while she began to eat.

  She was strangely beautiful as she gracefully cut her roasted lamb and brought it to her lips. She closed her eyes as if to savor the flavor of it. Her manners, unlike his, were flawless. When he'd first come here, he had eaten with his hands like a savage. Morgen had been repulsed by him. It was why food could no longer sustain him.

  "We shall have to find something to nourish you that you can ingest without disgusting me."

  Morgen had done much to change him from the man he had once been. Indeed, he didn't even recall being human anymore. At least he hadn't until he saw the trusting fool before him. She touched something inside him, and he wasn't sure what it was.

  She paused in her eating to look up at him. "Am I doing something wrong?"

  "Nay, why do you ask?"

  "You watch me so intently that it makes me nervous."

  He shook his head at her guileless words. "You should never tell someone when they make you nervous, little mouse."

  "Whyever not?"

  "It gives them leverage against you since they know how to make you uncomfortable."

  "Or it gets them to cease the behavior that causes the discomfort."

  He scoffed at that. "You are terminally naive, aren't you?"

  "I wouldn't think so. I only believe that most people will do the right thing whenever they can."

  Aye, she was a naive little chit. "I am of a differing opinion. I only have faith in people taking advantage of any situation to serve their own purposes."

  "And what advantage do you have with me here, eating your food and dressed in your gown?"

  "You are my prisoner. My advantage is your presence here. I am using you to get what I want."

  "And what is it you seek?"

  "Arthur's Round Table."

  Seren frowned at him and his quest. "Why do you want it?"

  He had no business answering her question, but what harm could there be? It wasn't as if she could do anything to stop him and it wasn't as if Merlin didn't know exactly why the table was important to them. "It holds at its center a great magic. One that when combined with other sacred objects is capable of rendering its wielder invincible. With it here, there would be no one who could stop us from ruling the earth."

  He could tell by her innocent face that the very concept baffled her. "Why would you wish to rule the earth, my lord? What point could there possibly be in it?"

  "If you have to ask that question, then you cannot possibly wrap your tiny little mind around the concept to understand the answer. I am a selfish and self-centered bastard. I only want to play by my rules. As a great man once said, it is good to be king."

  Her eyes snapped at him. "Thank you, my lord, for the insult to my intellect. But I would return to say that it is indeed a small-minded man who cannot allow others to have their own share of the world. It is a surprisingly large place with room in it for all of us."

  Kerrigan was taken back by her angry retort. "Are you a fool to insult me?"

  She lifted her chin to pierce him with a malicious glare. "You insulted me first."

  Kerrigan felt something he hadn't felt in centuries. Humor. He actually laughed at her audacity. It amazed him. Anyone else who dared insult him would now be lying dead at his feet. But this woman…

  She amused him.

  "You are a brave woman."

  "Not especially. I'm merely a frank one."

  "Well, I find your frankness refreshing."

  Seren returned to eating, but she was still uneasy with the way Kerrigan stared at her as if he were a starving man and she his feast.

  As she finished her food, she started to rise. Kerrigan vanished from his seat to appear directly behind her chair so that he could pull it back from the table.

  She jumped at his sudden appearance.

  "Forgive me for startling you."

  "How do you do that?"

  He shrugged as he moved the chair back for her. "I think it and it happens."

  She crossed herself. "You are a devil, aren't you?"

  "Aye, my lady souris. Damned and cursed."

  And yet there was something about him that reminded her of a lost soul that wanted to find itself again. It was a stupid thing to think. She had no idea why she even thought it when he seemed to take such pleasure in being evil.

  He leaned toward her ever so slightly, his presence overwhelming as he seemed to smell the air around her. The corners of his mouth lifted. It softened the harshness of his features and the chill in his gaze. "You had best return to your room now."

  "Why?"

  "I am a man of very finite patience, my Seren. I am not used to denying myself what small pleasures I can have. And you…you test the limits of what little self-control I possess." He reached out one cold hand to lightly brush against her cheek.

  Seren could feel the warmth leave her skin at his touch. As she stood before him, her gaze dropped down to his neck, and there she saw the star amulet Magda had mentioned.

  Her heart hammering, she reached to touch it.

  Kerrigan immediately captured her hand. "What is it you do?"

  "It…it is lovely."

  He moved her hand away from it and stepped back. "Go, Seren. Before it's too late for you."

  One moment she was before him, in the next she was back in her room. Only now it no longer had a door in it.

  She swallowed as true fear took root inside her. Whatever was she going to do? Kerrigan was so powerful, so dark. How could she ever escape someone like him?

  You have no choice.

  Nay, she didn't. Somehow, someway she must find her way out of this land of the damned, back to her own home.

  Chapter 4

  Kerrigan reclined against the cushioned seat of his large, black throne as he watched Morgen "entertain" the other members of her cercle du damné.

  Like him, most of the other one hundred and forty-nine men and women of their brotherhood had once been human. Some of them had even sat at the Round Table with Arthur and pledged their swords to goodness.

  But there was no goodness or humanity left here in Camelot. Much like its famed king, it was long gone and would most likely never be seen again.

  With one hand resting on the dragon head carved into the arm of his throne, Kerrigan tipped his goblet back to drink deep of a wine that could never nourish him.

  Nor could it make him drunk.

  "Come, my king," a beautiful Adoni female begged as she approached his dais. Her long black gown plunged all the way past her navel, baring to his gaze most of her abdomen and breasts—the tips of which had been painted a vivid red to stand out as they puckered invitingly against the sheer material of her dress. She was an amply endowed woman who would most likely please him for a moment or two. "Will you not join us for a dance?"

  Kerrigan slid his black gaze to the gathering where his demon knights danced with the fey. Some of them were already sprawling half naked in corners, uncaring of who watched them as they sought to sate their bodies. The loud dance music that played through the room came from CDs that Morgen had brought back from her journeys into the future—like many of the residents here, she loved the grace and style of the medieval, but preferred the
conveniences and toys of future societies. And one of her penchants was for a style of early twenty-first-century music known as Dark Wave. Rather fitting, all things considered.

  Personally, he could take or leave the music. For that matter, he could take or leave the inhabitants of Camelot.

  He'd long grown weary of this place and of the creatures who called it home. He wanted more than the cold passion of the fey who gave their kisses and bodies without care. One cock was as good to them as any other.

  "Begone from me," he snapped at her.

  The Adoni's eyes flashed red. She would attack except she knew the folly of such an action. Curling her lip, she left him to seek out another of the knights.

  "What say you, my lord? Are you ill?"

  Kerrigan tensed at the voice that came from behind his throne. "Don't stand behind me, Blaise. Not if you wish to continue living in your current state."

  The tall, lithe mandrake moved forward to stand to the left of Kerrigan's throne. Born with albinism, Blaise had been cast out by his superstitious people when he'd been barely more than a babe.

  His eyes were a pale, unforgiving shade of violet. He wore his snow white hair in a long braid that fell over one shoulder, to his waist. His skin was a deep, golden tan that belied what most expected from one with his condition. It was a common misconception that all of those with albinism were completely lacking color. If not for the fact that he knew the mandrake took pride in his physical differences, Kerrigan would have suspected the darkness of Blaise's skin to be from his magic.

  In human form, Blaise could barely see at all. He used his magic to sense where others and objects were around him. But as a dragon…his vision was sharp and clear.

  He was without a doubt one of the most powerful mandrakes in service to Kerrigan and the closest thing to a friend he'd ever known. Though to be honest, Kerrigan didn't understand why the mandrake chose his company.

  If he didn't know better, he might actually think the mandrake liked him.

  Kerrigan took another sip of his drink.