Midnight Shadow

by Laurel O'Donnell

  “You want me to make you more potions?” Widow Anderson asked. “You still owe me for the first one. A lot of time and skill went into it, believe me. And if it’s not used properly it could have deadly consequences. I took a great chance giving it to you.”

  “Yes, you did. And you’ve kept the secret well, as I instructed. It is with great regret that I must tell you there will be no payment,” the man said.

  Every one of Bria’s senses flared to life. Something was wrong here, very wrong. Beside her, Mary shifted her position. Bria could feel the anger in her friend’s stiff shoulders and clenched fists.

  “No payment?” the woman huffed. “We agreed on ten gold coins.” Her voice quickly changed from one of outrage to one of calm certainty. “I think you’ll pay up.”

  “And I think you’re mistaken.” The man’s hand dropped casually to the hilt of his sword.

  One of the horses the soldier held whinnied and reared, and the man before the old woman turned suddenly, stepping into a beam of moonlight.

  Bria froze as the ghostly light washed across his features. It couldn’t be! She recoiled into the safety of the dark bush, praying he hadn’t seen her. She’d hoped never to see him again.

  “Listen, Kenric, you cheap worm, you’ll pay what you owe.” The old woman drew the man’s gaze to her once again.

  Kenric! Fear coiled around Bria’s body, immobilizing her. Bria reached out for Mary...

  But Mary wasn’t there. Her friend had burst through the cover of the bushes and onto the road.

  “No! Mary!” Bria whispered frantically.

  But Mary moved forward, oblivious to Bria’s warning, stalking toward Kenric and Widow Anderson.

  Bria peered anxiously through the bushes, but remained hidden, unable to stop her pounding heart, unable to suppress the fear encompassing her. It was Kenric, her mind repeated. Kenric.

  As Mary stomped toward the duo, Kenric’s eyes slowly turned and his lips curled into a contemptuous sneer. Fear gripped Bria’s insides. Fear for Mary, fear for the old woman. Fear for herself. Her breathing came hard and fast as frightful images danced before her mind’s eye. Haunting memories of Kenric’s ugly black eyes glinting down at her. Falling into a thorny patch of brambles. Wicked laughter played over and over again in her ears.

  Deep inside, she knew she should do something. She knew she should take a stand beside Mary, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t face Kenric. She could only watch in frozen terror as Mary approached Kenric, her tiny fists clenched at her sides.

  Kenric surveyed the area around them, his gaze flashing past Bria’s hiding spot and moving on. He turned back to Mary.

  “That is quite enough!” Mary proclaimed. “You’ll pay Widow Anderson, or everyone will know you cheated her.” Her threat hung in the air.

  “She’ll get what’s due her,” Kenric finally said.

  Bria didn’t like the sound of his voice.

  Mary seemed well pleased by his verdict. She nodded and smiled with satisfaction. Had Kenric changed after so many years? Was he going to do the right thing? Would he pay Widow Anderson?

  Kenric drew his sword and plunged it into Widow Anderson’s stomach.

  Sheer terror held Bria immobile as Widow Anderson’s mouth went round in a circle of shock.

  Kenric’s black, evil eyes shone in the moonlight. They were the most terrifying eyes Bria had ever seen. He smiled coldly as he pulled his sword from the herbalist’s body. Widow Anderson crumpled to the ground like a scarecrow untied from its pole.

  Bria struggled to regain control of her senses. “Run, Mary, run!” she shouted. A dark, shadowy presence swept over her as Kenric turned in the direction of her voice. She prayed she was hidden well enough in the bushes so he couldn’t see her. He studied the area around her, his dark eyes narrowing as they tried to penetrate the darkness.

  With a cry, Mary raced away into the forest on the opposite side of the road and quickly disappeared into the blackness of the thick trees, swallowed up by the woods. The soldier gave chase.

  Bria shrank back into the cover of the bushes. Kenric still held his bloodied sword, looking in her direction. He took a step toward her.

  He’s coming. He’s going to find me.

  Then another step.

  Bria shot to her feet and whirled, dashing from the bushes, away from Kenric. She sprinted back through the tall grass, across the field, racing back the way she and Mary had come. Her heart pounded in her chest and in her ears. Bria clutched the skirt of her dress, holding it high so she could run as fast as her legs would take her.

  Behind her, Bria heard the crash of someone moving through the brush. Once again she was a child of eight, running from Kenric. She couldn’t let him get to her. Sharp branches tore at her clothing, scratched at her flesh as she ran through the forest. She fought her way through the night, running for her life.

  He’ll kill me, she thought again and again. He’ll kill me this time if he catches me. Just like he killed Widow Anderson.

  Instinct brought her to her horse, which remained tethered to the branch of the tree. She pulled herself up onto the horse’s back and immediately turned the animal toward the safety of her father’s lands. All she needed to do was get to Delaney lands and she would be safe. Kenric was chasing her on foot. And now she was on horseback. She’d make it.

  But the horse whinnied angrily as its head jerked forward.

  The reins were still wrapped around the branch! Bria grabbed hold of the leather straps and pulled frantically, trying to free them, but they became more entangled around the branch. With a howl of fear and frustration, she tore the straps free, yanking the small branch from the tree. She spurred the horse away as a threatening shadow crashed through the wall of bushes beside her.

  The steed reared and Bria almost fell, but she clung tightly to the horse’s mane, keeping herself in the saddle. The horse raced away over the land, knowing the way back to Castle Delaney by heart -- a lucky thing, because Bria’s hands were trembling so badly she couldn’t have steered the animal if she wanted to. She urged her horse on, spurring it hard until she broke free of the forest. They raced over a small hill, galloping at a breakneck pace toward the castle.

  Soon Castle Delaney loomed before her, but Bria didn’t feel relieved. Fear held her in a tight embrace, erasing all other thoughts. She spurred her horse below the portcullis, ignoring the guard’s call. As soon as they reached the inner ward she dismounted, practically throwing herself from the saddle. Her feet hit the ground first. Then she fell forward, landing on her hands and knees. For a long moment, she stayed that way, trembling fiercely, struggling to catch a breath, willing her pounding heart to slow down.

  Kenric will kill me if he finds me.

  He killed Widow Anderson. He murdered her in cold blood!

  Mary! Bria quickly stood and took a step toward her horse, lifting her foot into the stirrups. But then she froze. Kenric would be waiting for her at the edge of the east woods. He’d know she would come back.

  How can I not go back for Mary? He might hurt her. He might kill her!

  Guilt and terror at what she had done, at what she was doing, weighed heavily on her shoulders.

  She’d left Mary alone in the woods.

  Suddenly, Bria bolted into the keep. She raced up a set of spiral stairs and down the hall. Garret would help her, she was sure of it. He’d return to the woods and search for Mary with her. She ran as fast as she could, finally skidding to a halt before his door.

  Bria lifted her hand to knock, but suddenly froze, her hand raised in the air. He’d tried to protect her against Kenric a long time ago, but he hadn’t been strong enough.

  And now Kenric was even more evil.

  What if Garret were hurt, or even killed, because of her?

  Bria lowered her hand. She couldn’t risk his life. She turned and raced down the stairs. She would get Jason of Victors, the captain of the guard, and bring a dozen men with her.

  She could only pray Mary
would remain safe until then.

  Chapter Four

  Garret emerged from the stables, adjusting his stockings. He glanced back over his shoulder at the wench sitting on a pile of hay, pulling her dress up over her ample bosom. He paused at the door to admire those luscious curves. She glanced up and caught him staring at her. She grinned and purposely dropped her top, leaning back so her breasts jutted out at him in invitation.

  Garret chuckled low in his throat. “Wanton wench,” he murmured. But he resisted the stirrings in his loins. He needed a few hours sleep if he was to meet Bria come dawn. He shook his head, laughing pleasantly. The women at Castle Delaney had always been very accommodating.

  He headed toward the keep, passing through the empty courtyard, whistling softly. As he approached the keep, the simple song died on his lips. A horse stood unattended in the middle of the inner ward. A scowl crossed his brow.

  He approached the horse, patting its neck lightly. The horse whinnied and tossed its head. The reins jerked up with the movement before settling back to dangle over the animal’ s neck. Something on the end of the reins caught Garret’s attention, something heavy enough to weigh down the leather straps.

  Garret grabbed the bridle and patted the horse’s neck again before picking up the reins. A branch was tangled in the leather straps. He worked the straps free and inspected the branch for a moment before tossing it aside.

  The courtyard was empty. How strange, he thought. Whose horse was this?

  Garret stepped up the first stair to the keep when suddenly the door flew open. Bria emerged from the double doors and their gazes locked immediately. A smile began to form on Garret’s lips at seeing her, but ceased when he read the distress in her eyes. Her usually bright blue eyes were wide with fear. Her complexion was pale. Something was terribly wrong.

  Garret bounded up the two steps to her side and took her hands in his. “Bria, what is it? What’s happened?”

  “Mary.” Bria glanced over his shoulder toward the gatehouse. “We were in the east woods and Kenric...” She turned those wide, blue eyes to him. “Kenric killed an old woman. And... I’m afraid for Mary.”

  “Where?” Garret demanded, straightening. “Where in the east woods? Where is Mary?”

  Bria struggled to pull free of his grip. “I need to find Jason. I need to call out the guards and go look for Mary.”

  “Tell me where she is,” Garret demanded.

  “I won’t risk your life, too!” She shook her head frantically. “It’s Kenric!”

  “And it’s Mary!” Garret fumed. “Why won’t you tell me –” Suddenly, understanding filled his eyes, followed instantly by indignation. His jaw clenched in anger. “You think I can’t defeat Kenric.”

  “That’s not it,” Bria proclaimed.

  But Garret knew the truth. He turned away. “If you won’t tell me, I’ll find her myself.”

  “No! Garret!” Bria raced after him and attempted to grab his arm, but Garret tore loose, whirling on her.

  “I’m insulted you think so little of me,” Garret said. Hurt twisted his heart. She was one of his best friends, yet had such little faith in his abilities.

  “He killed an old woman.”

  “I’ve killed many men. Young men,” Garret retorted hotly.

  “She was weaponless! Kenric has no honor, Garret!” Bria argued vehemently. “This isn’t a contest. He’d strike at you from behind, kill you by trickery, and I don’t want a friend of mine killed.”

  “I can defend myself,” Garret insisted. His pride had been wounded, and it was not so easily mended. “Are you going to tell me where she is or not?”

  Bria hesitated for only a moment, carefully, thoughtfully, angrily perusing his face. Finally, she turned away.

  Garret fumed. He couldn’t believe she wasn’t going to tell him, couldn’t believe she’d leave Mary out in the woods in such great peril.

  But then, much to his surprise, Bria swung herself up onto the lone horse in the middle of the courtyard and held out a hand to him.

  “No,” Garret insisted, something akin to panic building inside him. “I’ll go alone. There’s no need for you to risk your life. I’m a trained knight.”

  Bria glanced at him and Garret saw the resolution in her eyes. “She’s my friend, too.”

  Garret cursed silently and grabbed her hand, pulling himself up behind her. He snatched the reins from her hands and demanded, “Where is she?”

  ***

  They searched the woods for hours beneath the light of the moon, but there was no sign of Mary or Kenric or the old woman. It was as if Bria had imagined the entire thing. She knew that was exactly what Garret was beginning to believe. At dawn they went to Mary’s home. Bria hoped beyond hope she had imagined the whole thing, that Kenric hadn’t killed some old woman and Mary was safe at home in her bed.

  Bria glanced back at Garret, who was still sitting on the horse, before turning back to Mary’s door. She lifted her hand to knock, but the door opened before her knuckles could hit the wood. Mary’s mother, a thin woman with large blue eyes, stood in the doorway.

  “Bria,” she gasped. “Is Mary with you?”

  Dread surged in Bria’s breast. It hadn’t been her imagination. “No,” Bria said. “She didn’t return home last night?”

  “No,” Mary’s mother whimpered. She burst into tears. “Oh, Bria, I don’t know what to do. You know Mary. You know she wouldn’t stay out all night.”

  Bria looked in the direction of the pond. Dread filled her entire being. They had to go back and search again. They had to find Mary.

  “George is out looking for her now,” Mary’s mother said.

  “I’ll look for her,” Bria promised and returned to Garret. She couldn’t lift her eyes to him; she couldn’t look at him. This was her fault. She never should have left Mary.

  Garret reached down and encircled her hand, pulling her up before him. “It’s not your fault,” he whispered.

  Mary’s mother stood in the doorway. “I’ll stay here in case she comes home.”

  But Bria wasn’t listening to either of them. She directed Garret to return to the pond. I should have stayed with her. I shouldn’t have left her alone. She pictured her friend lying dead in the road, run through by Kenric.

  They reached the pond and scanned the shore, but Mary wasn’t there.

  “Mary!” Bria called desperately.

  Pictures of Mary buried in the bushes, raped, beaten, stabbed, played out in ugly images in Bria’s mind. “Mary!” Bria repeated, her voice cracking with despair. Tears rose in her eyes. I shouldn’t have left her.

  Garret’s arm tightened around her waist.

  But Bria leaned away from him, resisting his attempt at comfort.

  Garret nudged the horse forward slowly.

  Bria searched the sides of the road as they rode by, hoping something would appear, something they’d missed before, some clue that Mary was still alive, a sign her friend was all right.

  But there was nothing, no blood, no bodies, not even a sign of a scuffle. Of course, Kenric wouldn’t have left any evidence of what he had done.

  She’d never know what he did with Mary.

  Deep down, Bria knew if Mary hadn’t returned by now, she wasn’t going to. Even acknowledging this to herself was admitting defeat. If she just kept looking, if she didn’t give up, everything would be all right.

  And then something caught her eye. “Wait!”

  Garret pulled the horse to a halt and Bria dismounted, swinging her leg over the horse’s back, never taking her gaze from what looked like a piece of red cloth stuck to the bark of a tree. She hurried over to it.

  Bria stopped before the tree, looking at the cloth for a long moment. Finally, she touched it then quickly pulled her hand back. Her fingertips were stained red. Sickened, Bria lifted her eyes to the piece of cloth again. It wasn’t red. It was saturated with blood. The edges were still brown, the same brown as the dress Mary had been wearing. Bria crushed the mater
ial in her trembling hand. “Mary,” she whispered, staring down at the red-stained fabric in her palm.

  Garret moved up behind her. “It might not be hers,” he said softly.

  Bria turned to look at him, her vision blurred with tears. Garret reached out to her, pulling her close.

  They both knew it was Mary’s.

  ***

  Terran stared out the window of his bedroom in Castle Knowles. Garret, he thought again. Garret Dysen. Even though Odella’s father believed Terran to be a better match for his daughter, Odella’s heart had already been taken.

  The door squeaked open behind him. He didn’t turn from the rising sun. What could he do for her? Would he release her to make her happy? Could he let her go to another man to give her life?

  The footsteps of an invader entered the deathly quiet chambers.

  “M’lord,” Kenric whispered. His voice sounded like a scream in the soundless room.

  Terran didn’t answer him, didn’t move.

  Kenric lowered his voice even further. “The herbalist is missing.”

  Terran whirled. “What do you mean, missing?”

  “She’s gone, Terran. We’ve searched everywhere.”

  “Then get another!” Terran demanded. “It’s Odella’s only hope. Bring me some concoction that will make her well!”

  “I brought a physician instead,” Kenric said softly.

  “I told you I don’t want a physician,” Terran growled.

  “Terran, be reasonable!” Kenric urged. “He’s better than nothing.”

  Terran turned his gaze to Odella as soft footsteps echoed through the room. Her angelic face was so at peace, so soft and delicate.

  A tall, thin old man stepped into his view. The old man bent immediately over Odella and a fierce protectiveness surged in Terran’s chest. He forced the feeling aside and pressed his back against the cold stone wall. His eyes never left the physician.

  “Terran, you should get some rest,” Kenric advised.

  Terran snorted his disagreement and crossed his arms over his chest. He was going nowhere. His cold black eyes remained locked on the physician. So help this man if he made one mistake, just one. He’d kill him with his bare hands.