“Reena and I need to talk with the cook in regards to the wedding feast.”
Reena stepped forward. “She is waiting for us.”
“I grant you permission to leave,” Decimus said and marched out the door.
Mary turned to Reena. “I care naught about the food for the wedding.”
“Do not worry, it is being seen to,” Reena said. “You are free to do as you wish.”
Mary nodded and walked to the front doors. She peered out searching for signs of Decimus. Not seeing him, she left the hall and made her way through the village.
She made her way past the cottages, smiling every now and again at those people brave enough to look her way and return her smile. Most of the villagers averted their eyes, pretending they did not see her. She understood their fear, not of her but of Decimus and his power. She kept her distance, not wanting to add to their concern.
She turned down a narrow dirt path that wound its way into the woods, and when she found a secluded spot she sat on the hard ground and braced her back against a thick spruce tree.
Forever.
The thought that she was committed to Decimus forever caused her stomach to churn. According to his beliefs she would be wed to him, not only in this lifetime, but when they passed beyond. They would be forever one.
Her stomach protested and she rested her hand on it.
She had not given as much thought to her wedding day as she should have, but for a good reason. If she dwelled on her wedding she would need to face the consequences of her wedding night.
Michael had reminded her before they had made love that she would face the consequences of her decision. She had not given much thought to her wedding night. She had not wanted to. The idea of sharing intimacy with Decimus turned her stomach, so she had ignored it.
If he ranted so badly over a wedding dress, how would he react to an impure wife?
Mary rubbed her temple, a slight ache starting. She felt so very alone and had for a very long time. It was not until Michael had entered her life that her loneliness had vanished.
She smiled. It was odd to think that a shadow had brought light and love into her life. She was so grateful to him and did not regret for a moment loving him, no matter the consequences.
She did not know what her future would bring. She hoped it would be with Michael, someday, somehow. But for now she had to take one day at a time and survive.
Mary raised her head at the sound of footsteps and suddenly Horace came bounding out of the woods to plop down next to her. The dog was a loveable one, big floppy ears and a mixture of colors. He loved to be hugged and rubbed. She wondered where he had been of late.
Horace barked once and looked to the woods. A man large in girth walked out, leaning on a walking stick as he took slow steps toward them.
“He knows I cannot keep up with him and always gets ahead of me.” The man stopped in front of Mary. “I am Patrick, Reena’s father.”
Mary was about to get up.
“Nay, do not disturb yourself. I will join you. I need a rest.” He lowered himself slowly to the ground beside her. “Horace has been staying with my wife and me. Decimus ordered him gone from the keep. Guess he is afraid of the animal.”
Mary thought that odd. A man like Decimus afraid of a dog?
“I heard you were a storyteller,” Mary said smiling.
“And you look like you need to hear a story.”
Horace seemed to understand the word story and settled down between the two to listen.
An hour later Mary knew all about the Legend and Reena and the way she had saved her village from starvation, and how the pair had fallen in love despite Reena’s efforts to have him wed her best friend, Brigid. And how in the end Reena suffered the torture of the rack while Magnus fought to free his love. So they lived happily ever after.
Until Decimus and Mary.
“What tale will you tell of me?”
“That is up to you,” Patrick said. “Your tale has yet to be written.”
They parted ways when they reached the keep, Patrick and Horace returning to their cottage and Mary reluctantly heading to the keep.
How would her tale end, she wondered? Would she be its author or would another?
It was close to supper when she entered the keep and she hurried to her bedchamber to freshen herself. She combed her hair, leaving the long blond strands to hang free and frame her face. Her cheeks glowed pink from the fresh air and her skin was warm from the sun.
Her solitary outing and storytelling time had served her well. She was ready to face the evening meal with Decimus. But more importantly she could not wait to make love with Michael tonight.
Her heart ached to see him and her body pulsated with anticipation of his touch.
Mary entered the hall to see most everyone seated at the dais. The seat beside Decimus was empty, waiting for her. No one occupied the seat to her left. It had been purposely left empty so that her attention would be solely on Decimus. She would have him and him alone to converse with.
Magnus sat to Decimus’s right, Reena next to her husband, Brigid next to Reena and then Thomas.
Mary approached the table with a smile. She would keep high spirits even though he segregated her from her friends. She had later this evening with Michael to look forward to, and no one could steal that happiness from her.
Decimus stared at her when she took her seat.
“Good evening, my lord,” she said graciously, bowing her head.
He seemed a bit befuddled and about to say something when he shook his head and leaned his face near to hers.
“You think to bewitch me with your beauty?”
She was startled by his accusation and did not know how to respond.
“You will wear your hair plaited as befitting a righteous woman, one who does not wish to call attention to herself.”
“As you wish,” she said, but before she could slip from her seat he grabbed her hand.
“Where do you go?”
“To do as you direct.”
He lowered his voice to a deep rumble. “Not now, just do not wear your hair that way ever again.”
“As you say.” She settled in her seat.
Bored with her isolation and with an upset stomach, she ate little of her meal. She heard peels of laughter coming from Reena and Brigid and wished she could join them. She never truly had friends; the cottage where she had lived was as isolated as she was now.
There had been a village a bit of a distance from her home, and she had made a few acquaintances but no true friends. She felt Reena and Brigid were her first true friends, and she wanted to spend time with them while she could.
She noticed that Decimus would send Reena and Brigid scathing looks when they laughed. He probably thought joy a sin.
Magnus finally broke her boredom, though this caused her a dilemma without her at first realizing it. He suggested she sing.
“Treat us to your angelic voice, Mary.”
Decimus ordered her not to raise her voice in song, but Magnus made it clear that this was his home and his word was law. Could she tempt fate and sing? She would love to raise her voice in a joyous tune. Singing healed her soul, and right now her soul could use some healing.
She decided to take a chance. She stood and avoided looking at Decimus, knowing he would not be pleased with her actions. She walked around the dais to stand in front of everyone. Tables were filled with many of Magnus’s warriors and Decimus’s men as well. The hall grew silent.
She chose a gay tune she and her mother would often sing together, and as soon as she began smiles spread wide. She never thought her ability special, but all who heard it swore she possessed the voice of an angel.
Her voice was clear and smooth, and sweet echoes rang off the stone walls, making it sound as if a chorus of angels sang along with her.
Once she started she did not want to stop, and she went from song to song. Everyone cheered her on, except Decimus.
He
sat back in his chair staring at her, and she could only wonder what devious plans and punishments he conjured.
She finished with a beautiful love song, her voice hitting notes surely only an angel could reach. Silence followed her song and tears could be detected slipping down cheeks. Then the hall exploded into applause, the warriors, honoring her, jumped to their feet.
Mary smiled with joy and bowed several times before returning to her seat.
Decimus said nothing to her, though he stared at her with heated eyes. Surely she would suffer for her insolence, but she did not care. Her singing had restored her soul. She felt nourished and complete.
Decimus would impose his punishment, though, and one that was much too costly to her. He kept her at the table while he spoke with Magnus about nonsense. One by one the others drifted off to bed, the hall emptied, and still he would not let her go, no matter how many times she requested to take her leave. He denied her until she herself drifted off to sleep in her chair.
Decimus woke her and she saw the hall was empty and they were alone.
“I give you permission to leave,” he said.
She struggled to stand, groggy from being woken from her sleep. She bowed her head and walked off.
“Mary.”
She turned to face him.
“Never go against my orders again.”
She bowed her head and felt herself close to tears as she left the room. Decimus mattered not, but Michael did, and she feared she had missed his visit.
She climbed the stairs slowly, her body still heavy with sleep. She entered her bedchamber, locking the latch behind her and looking around the room.
“Michael,” she called out softly.
Nothing emerged from the shadows, and her shoulders slumped in disappointment. She walked to her bed discarding her clothes along the way and stopped, her eyes misting with tears. There on her pillow, on a piece of cloth, lay a bunch of berries.
Michael had been there and had brought her berries just like he had done when they were together. And she had missed his visit.
She wrapped the cloth around the berries and held them to her chest. “I miss you and I love you so very much.”
She crawled into bed with a heavy sadness in her heart, and with the cloth of berries snug in her hand, slept.
She dreamed Michael was touching her, kissing her, whispering words of love to her, and she did not want the dream to end. She fought against opening her eyes, fought against letting him go again.
“Open your eyes, Mary. The room is dark and I want you to know that it is me making love to you.”
Chapter 24
Mary slowly opened her eyes, still afraid she was dreaming. The room was dark, the near-dying fire’s light barely casting a glow in the room. Above her loomed a shadow.
“Michael?” she whispered.
“I told you I would come.” He brushed his lips over hers.
“I thought it too late, that I had missed you.”
“I could not go without seeing you.”
“Go?” she asked anxiously. “You are leaving? How long will you be gone?” The thought that she might not see him for some time sent an uneasiness rushing through her, settling heavily in her stomach.
“I have work to do, Mary,” he reminded.
“I can help.”
“We will see. Now, no more talk,” he whispered. “I want to make love to you.”
“I have missed touching you.” She walked her fingers slowly up his arms, over his chest, and then down his hard belly.
“Careful,” he warned, “or this will be a short evening together.”
They both laughed and kissed, their hands reaching out to touch and love each other with a fierce tenderness born of a solid love.
His lips captured her nipples and he enjoyed the taste of her so sweet and tender. He had little time until dawn, but he did not wish to rush. He wanted to linger and savor every inch of her before he took his leave with dawn’s first light.
She moaned and he reminded her that she must remain silent. She quickly stifled her heated response, fearful they might be caught.
His hands roamed her soft silky flesh, coming to rest between her legs. He gently enticed her to respond, and she did immediately, stirring his own passion just as quickly. It had not been long since their last time together but it seemed like an eternity. And now he wanted an eternity to make love to her.
She climaxed with a soft sigh and he smiled, though she could not see it. He wanted to please her over and over, only then would he join with her.
Mary attempted to have her way with him, but he was in total control on this night, and she could do nothing but surrender to his love.
After several soft sighs spilled from her lips, Michael slipped over and into her. She grasped his arms as he brought her to the peak of ecstasy, and together they spiraled into oblivion.
It took a while for their breathing to return to normal and for their racing hearts to calm. In the meantime they remained locked in each other’s arms, refusing to let go, refusing to allow this moment to end, refusing to say goodbye once again.
Michael rolled off her and shifted her to rest against his side. She went willingly, wanting to remain beside him as long as possible.
When his breathing finally calmed he asked, “How goes it with you and Decimus?”
“He is an ignorant, arrogant fool.”
“He is no fool,” he warned.
“You are right,” she reluctantly admitted. “His beliefs are so strong that it makes him dangerous.”
“Can you wed a dangerous man?”
“Do I have a choice?” She tapped his chest. “You are a dangerous man but I would wed you willingly.”
“Do you propose to me?”
She walked her fingers over his chest, up to his mouth, to slowly stroke his lips. “Would you wed me if you could?”
He took hold of her finger. “I would wed you as fast as I could and forever keep you mine.”
She locked her fingers with his and held them firm. “Then know this now, this moment, this day, I pledge my love to you. I will give my love to no other, my heart is yours, my soul is yours, and I am yours forever and always.”
“We exchange vows then here and now, I pledge my love to you. My heart and soul are yours now and beyond time. I give them freely to you. I will keep your love safe in my heart and see that no harm comes to it, and I swear by our love that I will see no harm come to you.”
They kissed to seal their vows and Mary felt at peace. It did not matter now what vows she exchanged with Decimus for she had already exchanged vows with Michael. In her heart Michael was her husband forever and always.
“Sleep,” he said and held her tight.
She knew he did not wish to say goodbye again, and he would leave her in sleep as he did the last time. She wanted to ask when she would see him again, but kept silent. She was content at this moment and she would leave it so.
She snuggled against him and fell asleep with a peaceful heart.
Morning dawned with beautiful skies and Reena asked Mary to join her as she walked the woods to draw plants. Old Margaret the healer had asked Reena if she would record the plants and their properties so that she could teach others her skills.
Mary was thrilled to participate in Reena’s project and glad to be away from the keep and Decimus. It would also give her time alone to talk with Reena.
Mary dressed in the plain skirt and blouse Glenda had given her. She felt comfortable in the clothes; they were who she was. The richer materials did not suit her, and she was uncomfortable wearing them.
Her wedding dress held no interest. She was grateful Brigid had the project well in hand.
After she slipped on her soft leather boots and grabbed her brown shawl in case the weather should change, Mary left her room and hurried down the steps to meet Reena at Old Margaret’s cottage.
At the bottom of the steps she turned the corner and ran into Decimus. Their bodies hit, and D
ecimus reached out to grab her arms and steady them.
She almost recoiled from the sweet scent that permeated the air around him. She could not quite place the scent, though she had smelled it on him before, but not as strongly. The strength in which he held her reminded her of his power and how truly imprisoned she was.
The thought made her want to flee.
“In a hurry?”
Had he sensed her eagerness to be gone from him?
She kept her calm, not wanting to diminish her chance of joining Reena for her outing. “Aye, my lord.”
“Where do you go?”
She should have known he would want to know her whereabouts. Would he question her plans? Not if he did not know them.
“I go to meet Reena.”
“Good, you work on plans for the wedding.”
If he said so that was fine with her.
“I wish to talk with you later.”
“Have I done something to offend?” she asked, not wanting to concern herself with the reason for their talk.
“It is time for you to know exactly what I expect of you as my wife.”
Mary nodded. “As you wish.” It would be better for him to detail her duties, then she would know what to expect and how to behave, and how she could use both to her advantage.
She lowered her head, averting her eyes from his, and waited for him to dismiss her.
To her surprise he slipped his finger under her chin and lifted her head until their eyes met.
“Tell me, Mary, have you ever kissed a man?”
He played with her and she intended to win the game.
“My lord,” she said, spreading her eyes wide. “It would not be proper to kiss a man who is not your husband.”
His nostrils flared; she had won.
“Go, I will speak with you later.”
“Have a good day, my lord,” she said with a slight bow of her head and stepped around him, keeping her pace unhurried, though she wished to run. She did not want him to know she wanted nothing more than to escape his presence.
“Mary!”
His booming voice stopped her cold, shivers running through her. She turned reluctantly and he waited for her to return to his side. She walked over to him.
Dark Warrior Page 17
