Second Age of Darkness

by Diane Lindmark

  "You do know she has a bairn?"

  "Aye, I do. A lassie, though not so much a bairn, she said she was nearly four." After a moment, Richter decided to change the conversation. "Now that we're out of sight and it won't upset Holly, you better tie up my hands."

  Broderick grumbled, but did as he was asked. "For the record, I agree with Holly. This is a bad idea."

  Four days later, Richter stood outside a farmhouse that was now in the control of Malachi and his men. He was stripped to the waist and wearing a very old pair of britches that had been torn to make them look even older. His hands were tied in front of him and they were raw and bleeding after four days in the saddle. He stood facing General Mackall, Broderick, Duff, Angus, Young Alec, and King Malachi. None of them looked happy. "Who would've ever thought two months ago you lads would be reluctant to kick the shit out of me? Come on, one of you start the ball rolling here." Richter sighed. "If one of you doesn't hit me soon, I'm going to start saying things, things you don't want to hear … all right I warned you." He looked at Duff. "I've been shagging your cousin for nearly a month."

  Duff's jaw dropped. "You lie."

  "Nay, don't believe me? Broderick walked in on us."

  Duff turned on Broderick. "He's lying, right?"

  Broderick glared at Richter. "What the hell did you have to bring me into this for?"

  "Hey, I warned you if somebody didn't start hitting me soon, I was going to start saying things you didn't want to hear. Trust me, I'm sure I can start saying some other things that you don't want to hear, so if you want to shut me up you're gonna have to hit me." Richter was surprised at how much he was actually enjoying this. Then Malachi hit him. He didn't enjoy that so much.

  The following morning, Richter sat holding tightly to the saddle. He couldn't think of a place on his body that didn't hurt. He would have to remember to be careful what he wished for. He also couldn't stand the smell. After all, he was supposed to have been in a prison for over two months too. After they were done kicking the crap out of him, Broderick got even with him for bringing him into it by throwing him in the pigsty. Now he was covered in dirt and things he really didn't want to think about. Broderick dismounted and turned his back to the castle and grabbed Richter by the collar. "Remember, make sure to land on your shoulder. You don't want to land on your back," he said right before he yanked Richter off the horse.

  *****

  Malachi said, "Okay it's been four hours. That's how much time we agreed to give Richter. Let's go." Malachi watched as everything went perfectly according to plan. The gates opened right before they reached them. He was amongst the first to enter the courtyard. As he cut down the first man, he turned to survey the area. Moving towards the main entrance, a man charged him. Malachi brought his sword up and blocked it and countered and they exchanged a few quick blows. Then he heard a gunshot and the man in front of him fell dead. For a moment he thought that the shot had come from behind the man who had just fallen dead. He looked, then he heard another gunshot.

  Part 3

  Unification

  Chapter 14

  Stargazer Castle, Scottish Highlands

  October 13, 2231

  Young Alec entered the courtyard through the gates. He momentarily felt sickened by the barrage of feelings and impressions. There were too many unpleasant images assaulting him one after another. For a moment, he was finding it hard to breathe. Fortunately, a man's sword to his forehead reminded him he was in the middle of the battle, and even though he was impervious to swords, his comrades were not. He gripped the sword blade and wrenched it from the man's hands, throwing it to the ground. He wrapped his arm around the stunned man's neck and snapped it. He'd taken down three more men in just such a manner when he came up against his fifth opponent. This man he grabbed by the throat and when he did so, his eyes glazed over momentarily as a new flood of images shot through his mind. In the blink of an eye he saw a very attractive, young, blonde lass placing dinner on the table. The man took a bite of it, spat it in her direction, and then hit her. This happened a dozen more times. These images were interspersed with images of him coming to bed. Sometimes the lass shied away from him, other times she would try to please him; but either way, he beat her every time. The beatings got worse and worse. Alec's eyes focused back on the man he was holding by the throat. He released him. "You like to pick on those weaker than you. You want to hit somebody, hit me. I will not stand here and take it," Alec yelled angrily as he began beating the man. The man tried in vain to defend himself, but Alec was bigger, stronger, younger, and in better shape. It took Alec several minutes before he came to his senses. He had one knee on what was left of the man's chest and his hands were covered in blood. He'd beaten the man to death. He looked around; the battle was almost completely over.

  *****

  Malachi felt a searing pain in his back right shoulder. He turned quickly to see standing up on the wall a much older man pointing a pistol right at him. The man looked stunned. "Edmund," Malachi said to himself as he headed for him. Two more men went down beneath Malachi's blade before he came face-to-face with King Edmund.

  "I hope you're ready to die, lad!" Edmund snapped angrily.

  "Look around you, old man. I'm not the one who's about to die. This is now my castle and what is left of your people will be mine and I will rebuild. Unlike you, I still care whether my people survive the winter," Malachi replied with equal heat.

  Edmund laughed. "My men and I are not beaten, yet those idealistic thoughts of yours are exactly what will be your downfall!" Edmund swung his blade for Malachi's chest.

  Malachi brought his sword up and easily deflected it. "If that's all you got left, old man, this fight is already over." They exchanged a quick flurry of blows, but as Malachi had pointed out, Edmund was already flagging. Malachi pressed the advantage and attacked with another flurry of blows, managing to nick him with each swipe of his blade. Edmund growled and jerked the point of his blade up, quickly clipping Malachi on the chin. The two men separated and glared at each other. Malachi smiled. "Four down, twenty-three more to go," Malachi said as he wiped away the blood, enjoying the stunned look on Edmund's face as he stared where there was no longer a wound. Malachi attacked again, this time grazing Edmund's shoulder and forearm. "Six."

  "Aren't you going to offer to let me surrender to spare my life?" Edmund asked.

  "I told you, the offer from your nephew was your last chance to live." Malachi attacked again, and again he scored several hits, this time using the flat of his blade. "Twelve."

  "What the hell are you on about, peasant?" demanded Edmund looking annoyed.

  "My messenger Duff vowed to God that we would visit back on you hundred fold what you did to that lass, so I'm just making sure you suffer plenty before I kill you."

  Edmund laughed and attacked Malachi, saying as he did so, "You care what I did to my slave? You and your men could never even begin to fulfill that vow." Despite catching Malachi off-guard, he only managed to cut into his forearm.

  "Maybe not, but I can make sure you suffer plenty before you die." He moved quickly, gashing Edmund six more times deeply.

  "Fuck you, you snot nosed little runt," Edmund snapped, trying desperately to recover.

  "Now I am going to kill you." Malachi surged forward, quickly slicing across Edmund's right thigh, then bringing his blade back quickly across Edmund's belly. As Edmund slumped down to his knees, Malachi said, "Took a lot of persuading to get Richter to make that final request. He just wanted to collapse at your feet and be taken to the infirmary before he opened the gate and let me and my men in. By nightfall, I will have sent your son to meet you in hell and then the only surviving member of your blood will bend his knee to me."

  As blood gurgled out of Edmund's mouth, he said, "No, Richter would never betray me." Edmund laughed. "And you're too weak to slay my wife and unborn child. He will rise up against you."

  Malachi dropped his sword and grabbed Edmund by the shirt and jerked him nose t
o nose. "It was Richter's idea. His plan. He's not like you. He wants peace for his people and prosperity. He'll be glad to know you're dead – just sorry he didn't kill you." Malachi dropped him back on the ground, pulled out his pocket knife, and flipped it open. Edmund's eyes widened. Malachi grabbed the bulge in Edmund's pants. His knife was razor-sharp; it only took a moment to cut through fabric, cock, and balls. Edmund screamed and screamed, then his eyes rolled back into his sockets, dead. Malachi hesitated a moment, but on the off chance that Edmund too was gifted, he picked up his sword and removed Edmund's head from his shoulders, then said to his decapitated corpse, "Your unborn child will never know you fathered it, that I swear."

  Malachi turned back to the courtyard. The last of the fighting was dying down. He scanned the courtyard carefully; there were no prisoners. Broderick was moving towards him. He pointed with his sword. "As I came over the wall, I saw a group of men retreating that direction."

  Malachi nodded. "Then you best pursue them, make sure all the outbuildings are cleared. Any man resists, kill him."

  "As my King commands," Broderick replied flippantly.

  Malachi and his men entered the castle. As they moved through it, they met with very slight resistance. A few straggling guards attacked, but were quickly cut down. Malachi ordered all of the women to be taken to the Great Hall and held there. Malachi continued through the castle. He noticed Duff was behaving strangely. "Are you looking for something?" Malachi demanded abruptly.

  "What? No … I mean maybe … I don't … I don't know … No." Malachi stared at Duff as though he did not recognize him. Duff mentally kicked himself for his own inarticulateness, desperately hoping for a way to divert the conversation. He caught sight of blood running down Malachi's back. "Dear God, you're bleeding," he said in astonishment as he pulled out his handkerchief and began trying to stop the bleeding. "Why are you bleeding?"

  "Bloody bastard shot me in the back. I guess the bullet must still be in there. It's keeping the wound from closing," Malachi replied with irritation.

  "We need to get your shoulder tended to. One of the healers can get the bullet out so you can heal. You'll bleed to death if we don't."

  "It will be fine for a wee bit longer. As soon as I meet with the women, I'll permit the wound to be tended to."

  Duff grumbled and did his best to bandage the wound. "What are you going to do about the women?"

  "I haven't got the foggiest clue. I guess they'll have a lot to say about that. If they try to carve out my heart, well then, I'm obviously going to have to take extreme measures to deal with them now, aren't I?"

  "I don't think they'll try to carve out your heart."

  Malachi shrugged his shoulders. "Go find out what's taking that brother of mine so long." Duff nodded and went to carry out his orders.

  Chapter 15

  As Malachi entered the Great Hall, he looked around. There was nothing in the room except a couple of hundred women and about twenty of his own men. He had expected furniture, tables, but there was nothing. He walked up to Angus and asked, "Have they given you any trouble?"

  "No, Your Majesty, they've kind of broken off into three groups and a few of them have cried the whole time, but they've given us no trouble." Malachi appraised the three groups, then he revised that. He would say there were four: group one, which had the most criers in it, he would say was kitchen staff; the largest group he would call household, maybe wives of soldiers, they were all sitting on the floor more to the center; the third group was three women sitting a little bit ahead of the household group, two of them were extremely well dressed though all in black, the other if he had to guess he would say housekeeper; the fourth group was the second smallest but the undisputed dirtiest group with one exception, the only woman in the room standing. She was tall, very slender, with incredibly pale hair and skin. She almost appeared ghostlike. She was wearing a long, straight brown skirt and a white button-down blouse. She was standing just a little bit ahead of her group. There was one lass sitting on the floor next to her, that lass was the absolute dirtiest of the group and someone had butchered the hell out of her hair. He examined the lass' face and then he looked back. As he scanned the faces of the other women, he went back to the lass; she was the only one who didn't look worried or frightened. In fact, he almost thought she looked happy. He continued to stare at her face for another minute; then he nodded, definitely happy. What the hell was that about? He looked back at the only woman standing. She was beautiful; something about her kept drawing his eye. He found her incredibly appealing. He forced himself to look back at Angus. "Any idea who any of them are, or who's in charge?"

  "Just a guess, Your Majesty, but I'd say that one there, the blonde in the black frock. I'd say she's in charge; at least many of them have approached her and asked her what is going on."

  Malachi nodded and headed toward the woman indicated. When he was about ten feet away, she got to her feet with some assistance from the other two women, then she rested her hand on her swollen belly. "Which one of you ladies is in charge of the women?"

  "If there is a leader amongst us, I suppose it would be me." She dropped an awkward curtsy. "Queen Roberta." She indicated the woman to her right, "My daughter-in-law, Her Royal Highness, Princess Abigail." She indicated the other woman, "And the head of the household, Gertrude."

  Malachi gave a respectful nod. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty, Your Royal Highness. I am deeply apologetic that it's not under more pleasant circumstances. If you will permit me to introduce myself, I am King Malachi Mackall of Scotland."

  Roberta looked the man up and down. There was nothing about him to indicate he was anything other than a soldier. He looked exactly like the soldier he had just been conversing with. That is why he had not drawn her attention. She had glanced at him, then dismissed him. That apparently was a mistake. She now appraised him carefully - young, younger than her, though still a fully grown man, she would say mid to late twenties. He was a powerfully built young man and very nice to look at, blue eyes and brown, curly hair. She realized he was waiting for her to say something. "Now that you control my husband's castle, what is your intention for the rest of us?"

  Malachi opened his mouth, but before he had a chance to speak, he heard a door bang open. He looked quickly over his shoulder, reaching for his sword. This movement caused him to wince with pain. He raised an eyebrow as he saw Broderick striding into the room with a man slung over his shoulder. Broderick, catching sight of him, headed towards him. Moving in front of his brother, he threw the man down in front of Malachi. There were gasps, screams, and someone started wailing. Malachi glared at his brother, again before he could speak, he saw Her Royal Highness grab Queen Roberta by the arm and stare down at the man. After a moment, Her Royal Highness stepped forward and leaned down to look at the man. His eyes were shut. She looked back at Broderick; putting her hand to her heart she asked, "Is he dead?" Her voice sounded dangerously near tears. Broderick swallowed hard as he stared into the face of the very attractive woman in front of him, the one who he was sure any minute was going to attack him for having murdered her brother or her husband. He gave a curt nod. "Did you kill him?"

  Again Broderick swallowed hard. He hesitated for a moment as he allowed his eyes to wander over the woman. She had lovely red brown hair and very bright blue eyes, a little on the thin side in his opinion; he liked his women with a bit more to hold onto, not that he'd ever held onto a woman, but he imagined he'd like it better. "Aye, I did." She stepped around the dead man, walked up to Broderick, stretched up on her tippy toes, draped her arm around his neck and kissed him very passionately. Broderick hesitated only a moment before he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her back, but he was certain that she was only distracting him before she stuck a knife in his ribs with her free hand. He figured it was a small price to pay for getting to kiss her. They were still kissing when he heard Malachi clear his throat with annoyance.

  The woman pulled free and looked at him.
"I'm Abby. You have done me a great service. If I had anything of value it would be yours without hesitation, but I have nothing of which to repay you." She hesitated a moment remembering what her sister had said. "But if your King will grant me the continued use of my quarters this night, I would gladly entertain you there."

  Broderick swallowed, unable to find his voice. Finally, he cleared his throat. "What I did was in the service of my King and I am owed nothing for it, and you most certainly do not owe me anything."

  "That is where we disagree. You have freed me from my wedding vows that bound me to that horrible man. I do not exaggerate when I say that in killing him, you have saved my life." She stepped back and looked at Malachi. She curtsied. "Would my King be so gracious as to grant me the use of my quarters again this night so that I may reward one of his soldiers?" Malachi nodded dumbly. She smiled and turned back to Broderick. "If you change your mind, I am on the third floor family quarters, the master suite." She turned and left the room. Both men continued to stare dumbly at the woman until she was out of sight.

  Malachi finally turned to his younger brother. "If you accept her invitation, you better make sure Father doesn't hear of it."

  "Father?" questioned Roberta.

  "Broderick and I share the same mother, different fathers; though his father raised me my whole life. Broderick, this is Queen Roberta and Gertrude, the housekeeper." Broderick bowed formally to both ladies.

  "But why should your father not hear of it? I don't understand?" questioned Queen Roberta.

  "Our father is very Catholic. If he hears that Broderick spent the night with a woman, he'll insist on him marrying her and something tells me that's not what your daughter-in-law has in mind," replied Malachi.

  Roberta leaned over and whispered something very softly in Gertrude's ear. Gertrude replied. There were a few more quick, quiet exchanges of conversation. The two brothers exchanged a look. Neither one of them liked being talked about when they didn't know what was being said. Finally Gertrude shrugged her shoulders and nodded to her Queen. "And what exactly was all that about?" demanded Malachi.