Warriors Of Legend

by Kathryn Le Veque, Kathryn Loch, Dana D'Angelo

“You must learn to realize when I speak in jest.”

  “What?”

  He shook his head and chuckled. “Just a bit of foolery, my lady. At least Henry left me my finances from my former lands. That money runs this keep but I honestly don’t begrudge your purchases. Select the items needed for the household and if you want something for yourself select that too.”

  Kate tried to keep her expression neutral but a smile tugged at her lips. “You are not yet my husband but already you are absolutely determined to fluster me.”

  He laughed warmly and winked at her. “I cannot help it, my lady, ‘tis a duty I find enjoyable.”

  Kate rolled her eyes. How easily she found herself drawn to Micah’s bright smile and easy manner. “You are a rogue but a charming one.”

  Micah looped her arm in his. “Aye. Come, lady, we shall see if anything strikes your fancy.”

  Kate walked with Micah, her thoughts spinning. If they could move beyond the circumstances surrounding their marriage then perhaps their future held the opportunity for something greater. As Kate watched Micah discreetly, she found herself eagerly anticipating that prospect.

  Kate and Micah looked through the merchant wagons. She selected many items for the kitchens to supplement their stores for the winter. Salt was in extremely short supply as well as wool for winter clothing.

  Fortunately, one merchant had some bolts of good, sturdy fabric. With MacLeary controlling the keep, Kate had not been able to card and spin. The winter clothing was in a sad state of disrepair and she had not been able to make more.

  “Hopefully,” she said to Micah as he ordered the merchant to add the bolts to his tally. “Next year we will not have to purchase this.”

  Micah nodded then paused. “Kate, look at this.” He picked up an eating dagger with two large emeralds set into the hilt. Kate’s breath caught in her throat. It was slim and exotically beautiful.

  Micah looked down at her and arched an eyebrow. “Methinks the eating dagger you carry on your girdle has seen its better days.”

  “That is true,” she said. Her dagger had a wooden handle split with age and the blade had been sharpened so many times it no longer held an edge.

  He stepped even closer and smiled. “Then perhaps you would like this, unless a bauble has caught your eye.”

  “Nay, Micah,” she said with amazement. “That dagger is beautiful but it is much too fine.”

  Micah held up his hand, picked up the dagger’s sheath, giving both to her. “It is my pleasure, lady. Consider it my wedding gift to you even if a bit early.”

  Still stunned, Kate affixed the sheath and dagger to her girdle. “Thank you, sir.”

  Micah smiled, then sighed. “I had best fetch the strong box.” He turned and walked into the keep.

  Kate watched him go, still not believing he had actually given her such an expensive gift. Her gaze drifted over the merchant wagons.

  A heavy gray fur cloak caught her eye. Micah had a plain woolen cloak but now he was the Baron of Westmorland and deserved to have something that reflected his station. She touched the soft fur and then picked up the cloak, admiring its craftsmanship. This would be a fine wedding gift for a baron.

  Kate had the merchant add the cloak to the tally, hoping Micah wouldn’t notice. Then she spotted William standing nearby and called him over.

  “Aye, lady,” he said with a bow.

  “Take this to my room and put it in my trunk,” she said, lowering her voice to a conspiring whisper. “But above all, do not let your lord see it. It will be my wedding gift to him.”

  The boy grinned brightly. “Aye, my lady,” he replied and took the cloak, darting off toward the keep.

  Kate looked again at the wagons, trying to make certain she had not forgotten anything. She noticed Sarah talking to a burly merchant and frowned. The girl had nothing, why would she be at the wagons? Kate shrugged the question aside. No doubt the girl gained a bit of gossip merchants were so famous for. Traveling the land, they were an excellent source of information. Kate picked up a few parcels. While Micah saw to the tally, she would put the items away.

  Kate returned to the keep and went to the door leading downstairs to the storerooms. She paused and swallowed. The storerooms were where MacLeary had found Kate and her mother. Kate had witnessed firsthand what kind of agony a man could visit on a woman.

  You never have to face your fears alone, Micah’s voice whispered in memory. Please call on me the next time. Kate almost did. She almost dropped the packages and ran but she firmly grabbed onto her courage. MacLeary was gone and she should not judge other men by his vile actions. Micah would never hurt her, that she firmly believed.

  What had happened to Kate and her mother was in the past and while the shadows of the terrifying memories were painful, they were nothing more than that. Kate’s mother would want her to move forward, especially if the future lay with a man like Micah. Kate squared her shoulders and opened the door.

  She descended the stairs, pausing at the bottom to light a small lantern with the flint box that was always kept with it on the shelf. Kate picked up the lantern and heard the distinctive creak of the stairs behind her. She stopped, her skin prickling. “Who’s there?”

  No answer.

  Kate scowled. Was one of the servants also bringing supplies in from the merchant? She lifted the lantern toward the stairs; the light cast on empty steps. Kate listened for a moment, hearing no more than her heartbeat. She was imagining things. Entering a storeroom, she set the lantern on a shelf and started putting packages away.

  A hand clamped over Kate’s mouth. Someone seized her and dragged her backward.

  “Silence, wench,” a harsh voice whispered.

  A man’s heavy arm wrapped her waist. The brute lifted her from her feet. She caught a glimpse of the burly merchant she had seen earlier. He must have followed her into the keep.

  “Be silent and I won’t kill ye.”

  Fear nearly paralyzed her. The terror of her captivity haunted the edges of her vision. Kate refused to return to that. Not ever! Her hand brushed the dagger Micah had given her. She grabbed it and plunged it backward.

  The brute cursed and released her. Kate lurched forward, taking a deep breath to scream. Something sharp plowed into her head, sending white light through her skull. The scream died on her lips as she fell.

  ***

  “Kate?” Micah called and knocked on the door to her room. When he didn’t receive an answer he opened it slightly and peeked inside. He scowled when he didn’t see her. “Where is she?” Micah muttered and closed the door. The merchants had left hours ago and Micah hadn’t seen Kate since.

  He walked the halls, his thoughts chaotic. Even though Micah had been terribly drunk two nights ago, he remembered clearly the fire Kate ignited in his blood when he’d kissed her. He had told her one untruth, however, and that bothered him. Micah had said her willingness to let him bed her proved her point. It hadn’t. It was her courage he believed. Kate had not pushed away from him, and her response had been innocently honest. Her experiences had not been so terrible as to turn her cold. A little fearful, yes, but no more so than any other inexperienced maiden.

  Micah smiled to himself. He had to admit her innocence drew him like a moth to a flame. While he was not happy about the circumstances of the marriage, Kate intrigued him. Today with the merchants had been enjoyable. Kate’s shocked expression when he bought the dagger had been endearing.

  Micah went downstairs to the great hall. “Marjorie,” he barked at the old woman. “Have you seen Kate?”

  “Nay, my lord.”

  A whisper of concern crawled over him but he shook it off and walked to the kitchens. “Mary, is Kate in there?”

  “Nay, my lord, I haven’t seen her since the merchant wagons.”

  “That is most unusual.” Marjorie said from behind Micah. “‘Tis not like Kate to be out of sight for so long.”

  Micah nodded, wondering if he should be worried. “Gather the serv
ants, Marjorie, have them search for her. She’s probably still going through the items we purchased today. No doubt we will find her surrounded by trinkets and I shall look the fool.”

  “Aye, my lord,” Marjorie said and hurried off.

  Micah halted, staring after her. No sharp retort? He had given Marjorie an opening he was certain she would never refuse. But the fact she did not call him at least young steed sent a dagger of dread through him.

  An hour later, Micah’s concern turned to fury as Marjorie stood before him, wringing her hands. “We cannot find her, my lord. We’ve searched everywhere.”

  Rage boiled in his veins. His throat constricted so much that it hurt. The memory of Kate’s words, how she tried to escape from marriage to MacLeary, haunted him. She had seen her opportunity today and bolted, so she would not be forced into either marriage or a convent after all. Pain surged within Micah’s heart. He forced it down and convinced himself it was anger. His fists clenched and his body bowed with the urge to smash something.

  It did not make sense. Why would the woman toy with him? Unless Kate was lying and feared Micah would discover the truth. Perhaps she had convinced him to wed her simply to give her time to make her escape. He hated the idea. Unfortunately, it held. It buried its claws into his spirit and festered.

  He smacked his fist against a door, fury tunneling his vision. It was all a lie! His heart screamed in agony. How had this happened? How had she managed to take him so unaware?

  “John!” Micah bellowed. “Hubert!”

  John ran to his side with Hubert a step behind. Bless his friend for being so steadfast. John was always reliable unlike some women he could name.

  “What is it, Micah?”

  “Form search parties, the wench has escaped me.”

  “What?” John asked, his eyes widening in confusion.

  “Kate is gone.”

  “She ran away?” John stared at him then glanced at Hubert who took the cue and darted off. “How did she get out? Why would she run?”

  “I don’t know but I will find out.” Micah turned on his heel and moved to get his armor. The anguish in his heart only fueled his rage. He would make her pay for this insult.

  “Sir,” a timid voice said.

  Micah saw William fidgeting nervously. “Not now, William, I have neither the time nor the patience.”

  “But, sir, I don’t think Lady Kate ran away.”

  Micah glared at him. “How would you know, boy?”

  William took a deep breath, shifting from foot to foot, as if warring with himself. “If Lady Kate planned to run away, why would she buy you a wedding gift?”

  Micah felt as if the lad had just slapped him. “What?”

  “The lady asked me to put the gift in her room so you would not see it. She wanted it to be a surprise.” William walked to the stairs, with Micah only a pace behind. “I am not sure if I should ruin her plan, but I honestly don’t think she ran away.”

  “It might be a ruse,” Micah said tightly.

  “Praying your pardon, sir, you didn’t see the look on her face when she found the gift.”

  Micah arched an eyebrow. “So you are already an expert on women?”

  William shook his head and opened the door to Kate’s room. He moved to a chest and pulled a huge cloak out. Micah blinked in astonishment. It was, indeed, handsome. He took the cloak from William, his fingers sinking into the thick fur. Two large metal knot–work broaches with a heavy chain secured the front. Micah stared at it, befuddled, yet trying to think through his anger. It was a fine gift…a gift fit for a baron, in answer to the dagger he had bought for his future wife.

  “My lord,” Hubert shouted and slid to a stop in front of the door. “There is something you must see.”

  Micah did not like the note of alarm in the huntsman’s voice. He put the cloak on the bed and strode after him. “What is it?”

  Hubert hurried back down the stairs. “I last saw the lady heading for the storerooms. I looked there before gathering the men.” He paused and descended the stairs, leading below. “I did not like what I found.”

  “But I thought the servants checked the storerooms.”

  “Sarah did,” Marjorie said as she followed.

  Hubert opened a door and pointed.

  Micah’s gaze swept the room. He spotted a lantern burning on the shelf, the candle no more than a puddle of wax. He scowled. No one would dare leave an unattended lantern burning in a storeroom, it might set the entire keep ablaze. Micah scanned the floor and a glimmer caught his eye. He blinked. It was the dagger he had given Kate.

  It had fresh blood on it.

  Micah’s heart skipped, thudding painfully under his ribs. Rage melted into horror. He crouched and picked up the delicate knife. The blood was fresh, but well on its way to drying completely. Micah saw the parcels scattered on the floor.

  What had happened? Had Kate truly run from him? He forced his mind to work. If she had been attacked and used the dagger against her assailant, then the dried blood marked the incident about the same time as the merchants’ departure. He looked up at the solitary lantern – the puddle of wax supporting the time frame.

  Good Lord, nay!

  Micah bolted to his feet. “She was taken.”

  Chapter Seven

  Fully armored, Micah divided his men into search parties. He then sent them across the frozen dale–lands to look for some sign of Kate, in case someone beside the merchants had spirited her away. But Micah, John and Hubert lead the largest group of soldiers at a hard gallop after the merchant wagons.

  Micah cursed himself for believing the worst about Kate. He should have known she had more courage than to flee him. She had run in the past, but that was when MacLeary had tried to destroy her. Kate had told Micah she wanted the marriage. He had no reason to doubt her. The delicate dagger proved she had fought to stop the attack. Or…his heart lurched…it had been used against her. He forced the terrifying thought away. Micah could not bear to think of her hurt. He had to believe she had wounded her attacker, not the other way around.

  He condemned himself for failing her. The merchants had a huge head start. Hubert reined in his blowing horse and Micah followed suit, pulling his mount to walk along side.

  “Hubert, are you sure the merchants are the ones we should be following? What if we are riding in the wrong direction and putting even more distance between ourselves and Kate?”

  Hubert shook his head. “I don’t think so, Baron.”

  The bile rose in his throat. “One thing is certain, I know exactly who is behind the kidnapping.”

  “MacLeary,” Hubert said with a nod and sighed. “I pray pardon, my lord, but I still do not entirely understand this tangled web.”

  Micah’s jaw tightened. “When Henry assumed the English throne, he developed a new charter. I defied my uncle during the rebellion and supported Henry because of it. For the first time in English history, a king has enacted laws and also bound himself to them. In the past, monarchs have ignored their own rules if they found them inconvenient.”

  “Aye,” Hubert said bitterly. “William, the first son of the Conqueror was a perfect example of that. He oppressed all of England.” He paused and thought for a moment. “So because of the charter you supported the king.”

  Micah nodded. “But there is an important fact of this charter regarding Kate. One of the new laws guarantees a woman her inheritance.”

  “So that’s why MacLeary murdered her family. He made her the surviving heir.”

  “Aye. But it gets a little complicated.”

  Hubert snorted. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  Micah chuckled. “Should a lady wish to marry, Henry will approve the union unless the lord is an enemy. Since MacLeary is Henry’s foe, the laird also needs the support of the Scottish church. In order to have legal claim to Appleby, MacLeary has to marry his son to Kate. The Scottish church will uphold the marriage, and Henry will lose control of Appleby.”

  Hu
bert shook his head, his green eyes flashing. “So that’s why MacLeary took her. He will spirit her to Scotland and force the marriage. He couldn’t take her to Scotland before because he did not dare leave Appleby.”

  “Aye.” Thinking of Kate in MacLeary’s clutches again made Micah’s blood run cold. He pushed his horse faster, marveling at the strange sensations coiling within him. Appleby Castle had been his goal, defeating MacLeary, and earning the appreciation of his king. He never expected to find Kate. He also never expected to be forced into a marriage not of his choosing. But if anything happened to her…he shivered as icy claws gripped his heart.

  It was all worthless without Kate. Appleby Castle would be an empty stone keep, the honor of his name meant nothing without the vibrant life that was his chérie automne.

  Micah wondered why he wanted Kate by his side. These emotions were strange, he could not control them. He had to stop them before they became a liability. But as he tried to master the unusual feelings within him, he tugged at the fur cloak he now wore. Kate might be upset with him for wearing the wedding gift. The cloak, somehow, gave him a link to her.

  He glanced at their blowing mounts. “We need to ride, Hubert. I fear what MacLeary will do to her.”

  “Aye, Baron,” Hubert said and pushed his horse into a gallop.

  ***

  Kate opened her eyes to blackness. Terror assailed her and froze her already numb limbs. She sat up, and blinding pain cut through her skull. Her stomach rolled and threatened to twist itself into vicious knots. She gulped deep breaths, fighting to control her fear.

  Where was she?

  About an inch of water covered the floor. Kate quivered as her fingers felt the slimy stone underneath her. The muck was thick and the walls seemed slightly concave. An agonized moan ripped through her. She had to get out. She couldn’t breathe. Where was the water coming from? The blackness pressed down on her with a terrifying weight, driving the air from her lungs. Kate tried to stand, but agony shot through her head again. She collapsed back into the muck with a splash.

  Quivering, her fingers felt the lump on her skull. Dried blood matted her hair. It was a wonder the blow hadn’t killed her. But the pain in her head only made her fear more real. Kate dragged herself back until she pressed against the wall, fighting down the urge to scream.