Lonely Moon (The Wolf's Bane Saga Book 2)
Page 14
At gloaming, the warriors carried Mabh’s body to the pyre on a wooden litter. The villagers lined the way and once they placed her on the top of the platform, there was nothing to be heard apart from the wind rustling the autumn leaves and the sobbing of the females in the pack.
Their Queen was dressed in only the finest, a veil covered her lovely face and a wreath of Moon Flower encircled her head and was scattered around her body. Tristan stood with Weylyn, wiping his eyes. Kinnon and Kyna stood together beside him, a hand resting softly on Tristan’s shoulder. Mabh’s parents held each other tightly weeping as they said goodbye to their last child.
Marrock had not appeared but just as Kinnon was turning to call for him, the drapes of his room pulled back and he stepped onto the balcony. A gasp flew through the pack as they saw him.
Dressed in black, his once long silky black hair had been hacked short and his blue eyes were empty but it was his demeanor that worried them. He looked so much older than he actually was as he stared down at the pyre and his mate upon it.
The moon was low in the sky and in wolf tradition, the pyre was to be lit at gloaming.
Without a word, Marrock turned and disappeared; a few moments later he came out of the main doors of the keep and stood at the top of the stairs.
Still, no one spoke and the only sound was the cries of everyone touched by Mabh’s life. Faolán stood near the family, a torch in his hand. He offered it to his Alpha, but Marrock merely looked down at the flames as if he did not see it.
“Sire, ‘tis time,” Faolán said. Marrock slowly lifted his eyes to his but did nothing. Looking back to the platform, Marrock slowly walked to the ladder and made his way up to his mate’s body.
Kneeling down, his eyes never left her face then he slowly bent to kiss her lips through the veil. Everyone was silent and they heard Marrock’s voice as he spoke to them, his eyes never leaving her.
“If I cannae have her in life, then I will join her in death,” he said. “Faolán, light the pyre.” Everyone screamed as he lay down on the platform beside his mate. Faolán shook as he felt the power of his Alpha’s order.
Kinnon grabbed the torch before Faolán could lower it to the kindling.
“Marrock, think on this further,” Kinnon yelled up to his nephew. “Your son needs you.”
“Papa!” Tristan screamed. He twisted out of Weylyn’s hold and ran up the ladder, throwing himself over his father’s chest. Marrock did nothing. “Please donnae do this. Please, I am sorry!”
“Go back to Weylyn, Tristan,” Marrock ordered his voice low. “You have done enough.”
Tristan cried into his father’s chest. “Please, Papa, donnae do this,” he said.
“I said go,” Marrock’s Alpha order made him shake.
“I only wanted to help you,” Tristan cried.
“Help?” Marrock’s low powerful voice gave everyone pause. His eyes turned yellow though his body stayed in human form. “You wanted to help? Look at what your help has done. Look at your mother. Take a long look at her face because you will never see it again. You caused this. This is your fault. Now get out of my sight.” Tristan wept but walked down the ladder. “My pack, if I have any hold over you, I command you with all the might of my Alpha power, light the pyre!” Marrock yelled.
No one could stop the fire now. Marrock’s order reached everyone’s ears and Kinnon’s hand shook, his mind rebelling at the idea that he was killing his own kin and Alpha. Slowly, he lowered the torch to the peat.
“Nay!” Heledd screamed and ran through the crowd, towards the platform. Kinnon stayed his hand as an innocent raced to her Alpha. She knelt beside Marrock and gazed into his yellow eyes.
“You dare to disobey me?” Marrock growled.
“Heledd!” Faolán yelled. “Get away from there.”
“I ken you desire to die, Marrock, but that is nae what Mabh would have wanted. Do you care so little for her memory that would dishonor her last request? She was our Queen, she always thought of the pack first. You ken more than any of us how she loved us. But, you are being selfish, my Alpha. You have chosen to end your grief at the cost of our pack. The Alpha I have loved and respected would never be so cruel. The pain you are going through is unbearable, I donnae ken the feeling and I never desire to feel it. But you are strong, you will survive this.” She reached forward and covered his heart with her hand. “This still beats. Let it beat for her. Without her, ‘tis true you feel nothing, but without you, ‘tis the truth we will be nothing. Is that the legacy you desire? To toss your Father’s pack to the side? For as long as I can remember, you have always put us first and you have always strived to be the best version of yourself, so now, we ask you, once more, put us first, and let her go. No’ in love, spirit or memory, but in body. Let her be at peace kenning you will look after those she loved the most. Donnae leave us, Alpha. We could nae bare it.”
“What would you have me do?” Marrock asked.
“Live, and live for her,” she answered.
Marrock locked eyes with her for some time, his heart rebelling at her words. All he wanted was a reprieve from the intense pain he felt in his heart. Looking back at Mabh’s body beside him, he memorized every line so in the dead of night when the pain became too much he could recall her face and be at peace.
Heledd did not move, she waited until he had taken in his mate’s form.
“Do you accept my challenge, Alpha?” she whispered. His eyes snapped to hers and twitched for a moment.
Taking a breath, he nodded.
“Aye, Heledd,” he stated. “I accept your challenge.”
Chapter
Twelve
Two moon cycles passed before Marrock appeared to his pack again. They all left him alone allowing him to grieve his mate. Calling his family to his solar, Kinnon closed the door behind them and waited for Marrock to speak.
The Alpha before him was still clearly grieving, his eyes were heavy and he moved slowly as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. Marrock looked up and sneered when he saw his son standing beside Weylyn. Tristan did not raise his eyes to his father and subtly wiped his eyes of tears.
“I have decided,” Marrock began. “I nae longer wish to share the keep. I want to be alone. You all will be packing your things and moving into a cottage in the village.”
“Marrock,” Kinnon started.
“I donnae recall giving you permission to speak, Uncle,” Marrock replied. “You should be happy. I have ordered the unused portion of the village to be repaired. There are two cottages that will be yours to do with as you wish.” Marrock leaned back in his chair. “And as for you,” his eyes turned to Tristan. “You should enjoy it, considering that is the place you disobeyed me and caused your mother’s death. That hole you crawled through has been patched. Do hope that one of them will take you in.”
“Father, I,” Tristan started.
“Did I give you permission to speak?” Marrock bit out. Tristan shook his head and looked down. “I suppose you will require compensation to take him in,” his eyes turned up to his uncle. “I trust twenty gold pieces will suffice?”
“Why are you doing this, Marrock?” Kinnon asked.
“I am your Alpha, and I will be kenned as such,” Marrock stated. “From this day henceforth, nae one is allowed to call me Marrock. I am your Alpha, your King. Do I make myself clear?”
“Alpha,” Kinnon replied. “I ask that you reconsider. Your son needs you.”
Marrock’s languid eyes looked up at him. “But I donnae need him. Now out of my sight, I expect you to be gone from the keep within the day.”
***
They left the room and as soon as the door closed, Tristan broke into tears. Weylyn held him close and comforted him.
“Now, now, lad,” he said. “’Tis no’ so bad. You will come be with me.”
“I thank you, Weylyn but I want to stay in my home. I want my Father back the way he was. I miss my Mother,” Tristan cried.
“I
ken you do, lad,” Kinnon replied. “But we will look after you until he is over his grief.”
“Do you think he truly blames me for Mother’s death?” he asked.
“Nay, of course no’,” Weylyn wiped the lad’s tears. “He merely needs to recover from the loss.”
“I thank you for wanting to take me in,” Tristan replied. “I hope I am nae a bother.”
“Nae bother, my sweet,” Kyna said. “We love you.”
***
Marrock’s head swam with the excess whisky he had consumed. That was the only way for him to be able to sleep since Mabh died. He drank enough to cause him to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. It was worth the headache he had in the morning. Over six moon cycles had passed since Mabh was stolen from him and he was alone in the keep. He missed the touch of a female and in his whisky induced haze, he called for a guard.
“You called for me, sire?” the guard asked.
“Aye,” Marrock slurred. “Call for Tiana.”
“Tiana, sire?” The guard squeaked.
“Did I nae make myself clear?” he demanded.
The guard bowed and left the room quickly. Marrock stood and shuffled to the jug of whisky on the table. Refilling his cup he downed it in one go. Marrock was uncertain how much time had passed but the knock at his chamber door caused him to pour another.
“Come in,” he bellowed. The door opened and Tiana walked in.
“You called for me, sire?” she asked.
“How much coin would you request?” he asked.
“It would depend, sire,” she replied.
“On what?” he grew impatient and the whisky was making him eager.
“On what you request I do,” she stated.
“Whatever I desire,” he answered waving at the pile of coin on the table beside the whisky. “I assume that would be enough for your services and also your silence.”
“You donnae wish for the pack to ken you called for me?” she asked. “What of your guard?”
“The guard will keep his mouth shut, that is his duty, but I need your assurance they will nae hear it from you,” he said.
“Discretion is important in my trade, sire,” she replied. “You may be assured of my silence.”
“Then proceed,” he allowed her to gather up the coin into her bag.
“What would you like me to do?” She asked once her payment was safely in her possession.
“Make me forget,” he said.
Nodding slowly, she walked over to him, placed a hand on his chest and pressed, urging him to walk to the chair.
“Then sit,” she ordered. “And let me help you.”
Marrock sat down and watched as she began.
Chapter
Thirteen
Marrock woke to pounding on his door. Growling as his head ached, he yelled at the person to come in. Tiana had left in the early hours of the morning. As much as she made him forget, he did not want to wake beside her. The guard from earlier entered.
“What?” he snarled.
“’Tis nearly midday, alpha, I wanted to be sure that…”
“What? That Tiana had nae poisoned me?” he demanded.
“I merely worried over your safety,” he looked down.
“I am fine as you can see,” Marrock answered. “You will nae tell anyone of whom you called to my chamber last eve.” His Alpha order made the guard quake.
“Nay, sire,” he agreed.
“Now leave me,” he ordered. Once he was alone, Marrock stretched and stood, walking to the archway, he did not walk out to the balcony as he had not wrapped anything around his waist and he could hear the females washing. Taking a deep breath, the air was thick with an autumn breeze and he could smell an early snow on the wind. His gaze passed across the village, but halted when the gate swung open and a familiar face walked in.
“Maelogan,” Marrock growled. Up until that moment Marrock believed that Mabh’s death had been simply a matter of bounty hunters, but as Maelogan walked into the village, Marrock remembered Mabh’s words. Racing to his wardrobe, Marrock pulled on trousers but no tunic. He made his way down the stairs and swung open the main doors coming face-to-face with his old friend.
“Marrock,” Maelogan began. Without another word, Marrock grabbed him by the throat and pulled him inside, trapping him against the wall.
“Did you have her killed?” he shouted.
“What are you talking about?” Maelogan choked out.
“Did you have Mabh killed?” he demanded.
“Nay! Of course nae, sire,” he choked. “Please, Marrock,” he tapped his arm and clawed at his fingers around his neck.
“Then who did?” he growled.
“I ken no’ I only heard,” he gasped.
Marrock increased his grip around Maelogan’s neck, “If you have lied to me, Druid I will kill you.”
Maelogan could not respond and Marrock enjoyed the slightly blue color Maelogan had turned. Suddenly, Marrock released him and turned his back to him. Maelogan gasped and wheezed getting air back into his lungs.
“She told me that you threatened to kill her,” Marrock said, then turned. “Tell me now and I may give you a merciful death. Did you kill my mate?”
“I swear to you, Marrock, I would never have laid a finger on her. Nay, I did nae kill her,” he promised. “I am so very sorry for your loss. When I heard, I raced back here to see if I could be of some assistance to you. Please Marrock, I have come to you to help you. I would never harm you,” he placed a gentle hand on Marrock’s shoulder. The alpha’s eyes looked down at the hand then up to Maelogan. “I am so very sorry, Marrock. She was such a beautiful female.”
“Aye,” he answered. “She was.”
“What have you done since she passed? Have you been able to find your ground without her?”
“I am surviving,” he replied. “That is all.”
“That is nae a way to live,” he said. “Let me back into your pack, Alpha. I have wandered these many years. I want to help you.”
Marrock’s heart screamed not to trust him, but, as always since Mabh had died, he rebelled against his heart and accepted Maelogan’s pledge.
Chapter
Fourteen
In the time since Maelogan was welcomed back, Marrock lost himself completely. His grief spread to every corner of his being. His hatred for humans grew and his lust for battle increased. He trained his pack mercilessly and ignored the common comforts he had freely given early in his reign. The wolf village fell into disrepair as Marrock led raid after raid to the nearby villages and druid groves.
Torture became his new favorite art and he reveled in discovering the extent of pain he could produce without killing his victim. In some twisted way, it helped ease the void in his heart, which had turned completely to stone. Tiana was a frequent visitor to his chamber as were the widowed females of his pack.
He had doubled his lands and pack and within two years, everyone in Alba knew the legend of the yellow-eyed demon named Marrock. The raids slowly dwindled as the human villages realized that wolf’s bane would deter the power-crazed Alpha. How the tale of wolf’s bane had reached the humans, Kinnon would never say, for he had warned those near them to hang the flower like a garland around their windows and doors. After the legend grew, Kinnon quietly joined fewer raids focusing on his students.
It had been just over three moon cycles since Marrock had led a raid and the pack grew anxious knowing another was coming soon.
It was a quiet late summer evening when the moon was full and the woods alive with critters of all sizes that Weylyn sat in his cottage having Tristan read aloud in the language of the Celts. He covered his laugh as Tristan stumbled over two words unconsciously making a joke. He looked up at him and Weylyn smiled gently correcting him and explaining what he had said. Tristan laughed and nodded. Just as he was about to try again, a knock shook their silence.
Weylyn stood to open the door and was immediately taken aback when he saw his cousin standing bef
ore him.
“Marrock, sire,” he corrected himself.
“Is he here?” Marrock’s voice was hollow.
“Aye,” Weylyn replied. “Do you desire to speak with him?”
“Nay,” Marrock answered. “’Tis with you I have come to speak.”
“Come in,” Weylyn offered.
“If my son is inside, I donnae wish to,” Marrock replied. “Join me out here.”
Weylyn nodded and turned back to Tristan.
“I will return shortly,” he said. “Continue reading and write down any word you are unsure of.”
Tristan nodded without expression and Weylyn walked out of the cottage, closing the door behind him. Marrock was looking up at the moon when Weylyn cleared his throat alerting the alpha of his presence. Marrock did not turn giving Weylyn a chance to observe him. His hair had grown back and rested just below his shoulders but was never tied back and silver streaks began to show in its murky black depths. His back had curved in a little as if he carried something heavy on his shoulders. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Weylyn spoke up.
“Tristan improves daily, sire, he reads and writes Celtic well. Yesterday he had me on my back in the training field in less time than—”
“If I wanted an update on my son’s progress I would have asked,” Marrock cut him off lethargically.
“Forgive me, sire, I did nae think,” Weylyn said.
“Nay, you never do, do you?” Marrock spat out. “I have come to inform you that I am gathering warriors to go on an… excursion to the west. You and several others will be among the scouting party.”
“It has been a long while for me, sire,” Weylyn answered, he had not joined in a raid in over a year. “I am merely a teacher.”
“Do you defy me?” Marrock’s eyes flashed to yellow and his voice held a menacing tone.
“Nay, I will go. Who else is coming?” Weylyn asked.