Daughter of Darkness & Light

by Shannon Drake

  “You did not do it, you bloody bastard!” Padraic said. His fury was evident in his tone but he did not move toward the man.

  “I swear before the Christian God—”

  “You have no right to swear before any God!” Padraic thundered. “Rowan, perhaps—”

  “All in good time,” Rowan said.

  “No, no, I swear—”

  “So, you did not torture this man, but you cut down women and children and the old across the land!” Col said.

  “No, I have killed only in battle!”

  “It is curious that men follow such a man as Brogan, that he has so many to do his bidding,” Rowan said.

  “They fear him—and his sorceress.”

  “Who is not my sorceress!” Rowan said furiously.

  “None of us knows his sorceress. But we know that...”

  “That what?” Padraic snapped.

  “That she will kill us as quickly as an enemy if we do not obey. The woman you have. He has seen her. He wants her! He has other wounded prisoners. He will do the same!”

  “Col, Matthew, please take him to the weapons tower and find Mary of the Village. She is excellent, but she will need your help to break the shaft and remove the arrow. See that he does not cause her any difficulty, or seek to leave the sanctuary of this place,” Rowan said.

  The two still looked confused but stepped forward to obey his command.

  They hiked him up from the chair and did not do so gently. Col glanced at him and nodded, knowing he would explain his actions in time.

  Padraic waited until they were gone. “This was done because he did not hear or see that Kyleigh was taken by the people and slashed to ribbons or burned to ash.”

  “It was one of your people.”

  Padraic nodded. “Sian, a Caledonian.”

  “I believe he was dead before this savage desecration of his corpse took place, if that is any consolation. I would not have others see this. It is why I ask my men to work so hard to bring back our wounded. This man and any others Brogan keeps as his prisoners—alive or dead--must have fought almost to the woods and were taken in Brogan’s retreat.”

  “How many do you think he has?”

  “I do not know but I believe our prisoner will tell us.”

  “You do plan to torture him?” Padraic asked.

  Rowan shook his head. “He will tell us because I will not torture him.”

  “And when we find out—” Padraic said.

  “Yes. We will go for them. You were to go alone tonight. It will no longer be so.”

  “Rowan, a party of men going for prisoners will be discovered—”

  “No. Three of us will go. You, myself—and Kyleigh.”

  “Rowan! Kyleigh is what he wants!”

  “He will not have her. I will die before he takes her, I promise you. But she can provide what we need. But we must know everything about the prisoners he has. The extent of their wounds. If they are dying...or will know when Brogan begins the physical torture upon them that he believes will frighten us to surrender—anxious for death rather than life under his hand.”

  “Rowan, we may not be enough. Kyleigh’s magic may not be enough.”

  “We will see. Soon, we will talk to this man. And we will see. He is young; he was full of Brogan’s words and certaint we would not stop him. Now he is frightened. And every man seeks survival.”

  “We must see to a service for this man,” Padraic said quietly.

  Rowan nodded. “I had not seen you as such a Christian man,” he told Padraic.

  “Ah, well,” Padraic murmured. “I believe in the earth as it cradles us. I listen to the tales of old and those of the Roman God. But Sian was Christian.”

  “I will send for Father Peter. But we will see he is properly shrouded first. The sight of him thus...it is not something all should see.”

  “No.” Padraic agreed. He smiled grimly. “I would like to attend when you seek answers from the man.”

  “Yes.” Rowan said. Then the enormity of the situation they were facing faded from his mind and he fought a sense of panic rising within him.

  “Kyleigh!” he murmured.

  “She is with Gareth. But many heard what our prisoner said. Fear will set in again and voices will rise against her. We must take care—”

  “She will be with me,” Rowan vowed. “She will be with me.”

  ***

  Kyleigh and Gareth hurried to the main tower. Conversations went on everywhere—until they walked by a group and then people stopped to stare.

  It did not matter; Kyleigh had heard their words.

  Some argued whether she was evil or not, for the good of everyone, she should be bound hand and foot and turned over to Brogan.

  Others argued the incident had made Rowan’s words true. Brogan wanted Kyleigh, their one defense, at any cost.

  She smiled as she heard Alistair’s voice. “If my daughter were Brogan’s sorceress, she would have the power to take herself to Brogan at any time. He wants Kyleigh because he believes he could beat us—without her. To lose Kyleigh could be the death of us all!”

  “He is good man, our Alistair!” Gareth said as they entered the great hall.

  Rowan and Padraic were there.

  Along with the maimed body the rider had brought. Matthew and Col and the rider were not in the hall.

  The rider had been taken away.

  “Kyleigh!”

  Rowan did not rush over to her; he kept his distance. But his relief at seeing her was in his eyes, and she felt her heart pound despite the circumstances.

  She did not know what the future might bring.

  None knew if they would even survive.

  But he did care for her.

  “I am fine,” she said. “Sir Gareth has been a fine protector.”

  “I do have an eye for valor and integrity,” Rowan said, smiling.

  “And the good Lord Rowan does not mind pointing out his attributes!” Padraic said, laughing softly and then sobering. “I must find Father Peter. I will have words said over this man.”

  “He was a Celt?” Kyleigh asked.

  “Caledonian,” Padraic said.

  “And...”

  “Tortured; we are praying he was dead before the abuse was done to him, but he is at peace now,” Padraic said. He looked at Rowan.

  Rowan paused. He looked around as if he feared his own tower had spies within it listening to what was being said.

  “We will seek answers regarding others Brogan may hold from our prisoner. And tonight—”

  “Tonight, we will find a way to bring our dying home, lest they face the same!” Gareth said indignantly.

  “I had thought just Padraic, Kyleigh, and I would go,” Rowan said.

  “But—”

  “But!” Rowan said. “I do not believe four will be too many. Again, in case we are caught, I will leave the fortress in Col’s care. Padraic’s men will stand with him. But I warn you, I ordered him not to give into Brogan under any duress. Our lives will be forfeit if we fail.”

  “I am willing to take the risk. I know the way; I know the depth in the surrounding forest where best to stay unseen.” Gareth paused then, looking troubled. “How will we spirit the injured away?”

  Rowan looked at Kyleigh.

  She wished she had answers.

  “Faith,” he said quietly. “When you take this man to Father Peter, ask that he give us a blessing. We seek life and what is ours. Brogan seeks death and to take what is not his. I believe the Christian God will understand our mission, and He will be with us.”

  “A diversion,” Rowan said suddenly.

  Kyleigh and Gareth looked at one another.

  Padraic turned to Rowan. “Yes. When we learn where the prisoners are kept, we will know what we must do to draw whatever guards there may be away from them. I do not believe that will be difficult—they will not expect the injured and dying to cause them trouble.”

  They looked at Kyleigh again.

>   “Do you think your magical sword could bring a lightning bolt down from the sky?” he asked.

  “Rowan...Lord Rowan...I do not know what capabilities my sword has. I learn with it each day. I...”

  She paused, looking at the three of them.

  “I will need time alone that I may...speak to the sword?” she said weakly.

  “Yes. Gareth, you, too, must get rest. The knight’s tower should be all but empty now, and if you do not sleep, at least rest and prepare yourself,” Rowan said.

  “I will do so,” Gareth said. “But first, I will see the armorer. He is busy at the smithy, but he will take time for me when I seek his help.”

  “Do not tell him what we are doing; no one must know what we are about,” Padraic warned. “I will tell Col, so he will be ready for us to leave by the rope ladder and take on the fortress should I not return. No one else.”

  “Right,” Gareth said, and he smiled slightly. “I have learned a great deal from Laird Padraic of the Celts; he is a master with a knife.”

  Padraic shrugged. “I am good with a knife,” he said.

  “Caitlin needs to be on the wall,” Rowan told Padraic. “If anyone appears out of the forest, she and her archers will be needed. But do not tell her anything until we are near ready to leave. Again, we will wait for darkness to fall.”

  “We are agreed,” Padraic said.

  The four of them looked at one another. Kyleigh wanted to run to Rowan. She wanted to believe none of what they faced was real, that he was not a lord, not the leader here, but someone she could hold through life.

  More than that, she needed “alone” time.

  She turned and raced up the stairs to her room. She closed the door, and listened through it, waiting for the men to leave the great hall.

  When she was certain they were gone, she drew her sword and lifted it high.

  “Merlin! I need you now.”

  Nothing happened. They would depend on her that night, and the sword seemed to be turning a deaf ear to her.

  “Merlin, please,” she said. And then, “Father! I beg you!”

  A slow mist came to the room and then the dark shape took form again, gradually becoming the old man in the cape with the staff.

  “I need your help!” she told him.

  “What he asks of you is grave,” Merlin said.

  “You know what has happened? Brogan took our wounded along with his own. He tortures them and brutalizes their bodies to instill great fear into the people. He is claiming that I am the great sorceress with whom he travels?”

  “I know some; it is not easy to hear from a crystal prison,” he said. “Harder yet to appear before you as I do now.”

  “Then help me quickly.”

  “Your power lies within; you must call upon it.”

  “But I know nothing of enchantments! You had me raised by good people—but I learned nothing of magic!”

  “Your magic is twofold,” Merlin told her.

  From her mother’s side as well.

  “Padraic!” she said suddenly.

  “Your brother,” Merlin reminded her.

  “He has said he has a book; I must get that book.”

  Merlin nodded silently.

  “I will be with you. What power I can send is in the sword. Never leave the sword behind; never let it be taken from your hands.”

  “I will take grave care. Merlin, Rowan seeks a diversion—”

  “Aye, girl. Let not your feelings for the man become a diversion to you!” he said firmly.

  “What? Do you—watch me?”

  “I watch nothing; I pray you two do not fail because of the lust that has sprung between you.”

  “Because you fell, because others betrayed those they loved—that does not make something ill of what I feel!”

  “Only if it betrays you or others.”

  “You—”

  “I loved a woman who could not profess her love for me for the sake of her son!” he said angrily.

  “There is nothing evil in what I feel,” she said angrily.

  “Only if you let it rule you,” he said.

  “We do not let it rule us! Now, if you will leave the subject of my feelings alone, I would greatly appreciate it if you would help me. A diversion is needed to draw the guards away from our people. But you know that!”

  “The catapults; if the catapults were to burst into flame again, Brogan and his men would be greatly distracted.”

  “Can I cause such a fire on my own?”

  “Are you capable? Yes, it is in you. But the right words might well be necessary. If you would reach your full potential, it would be wise to read from the book.”

  “I must find Padraic then and get that book.”

  “Do that,” Merlin said. “I will try to be with you,” he promised. “I will leave you now; rest and concentrate, as you must.”

  “But I need the book first.”

  “You will have the book,” he said. “Magic spells can be learned, but the strength of magic comes from within. Use everything you have when it is necessary. The greatest magic is within your mind, your heart, and your soul.” He paused, shaking his head with a moment’s regret. “Uther was...headstrong. But he was a strong king. I admired him, and I served him. He was strong and tenacious, but ever fair with his people, and he would even listen to an enemy. Many an enemy became a friend for once the Romans were gone, the Angles came, the Frisians, the Jutes, the Saxons, and people from north and east on the continent. Uther could both fight and bring about peace. I knew he was wrong to want Igraine; I knew it was wrong he coveted another man’s wife. But his longing was great. He was a good man, but even a good man may do a bad thing. I will never know what sin I created in bringing about such adultery. But had I not, there never would have been Arthur. And though he is dead so many years now, he lives, for he became legend, the ruler and leader all would strive to be.” He hesitated. “For myself, I did not see sin. Padraic’s father was gone. My love was free, but it was the strength of her ethic to preserve her son’s future that kept us from making a legal union. I beg you, forgive us. And I pray that again, my folly has created great strength and care.”

  She smiled at him. “You gave me to Alistair and Mary. No finer parents might be found.”

  He nodded. “And yet you called me ‘father.’”

  She grinned. “Oh, much better you than Mordred!”

  “I thank you for that. There was rumor, of course, of Mordred’s child. But I know nothing of any offspring the man had before his death.”

  “I am glad you are my father,” she said.

  “And I am glad you are the young woman we created.”

  He disappeared, first into dark mist, then the mist lightened, and then it was gone.

  She watched him go with a wistful smile and quickly determined on finding Padraic. She had to find him. She had to lie down and read and rest in one.

  Darkness was coming.

  And darkness always came too soon.

  Chapter 11

  Gareth, Col, and Padraic joined with Rowan in what had been a torture chamber and prison during the days when the Romans had created and ruled the fortress.

  Neither he nor his father had ever made use of the implements there or even the prison cells.

  Now, the stone deep in the earth beneath the weapon’s tower was dank; the stone itself seemed to shiver and create cold sweat.

  Chains and flails hung from the walls encrusted with spiderwebs. A rack for dismembering those who would not confess or give needed information to the torturers sat in the middle of the room.

  It was stained with the blood of some who had stood strong, and the areas that had been wet were rotting and loathsome.

  Nothing in the room appalled Rowan as much as the old Roman Apega.

  The thing had been created in the form of a woman and given a painted face. It had once been dressed elegantly; now the dress was ragged and falling apart, and the face was peeling giving the creature the l
ook of something long dead that had risen from the grave.

  His father had taken him to the torture chamber when he had been twelve. He had wanted him to see the cruelty by which some had lived. But the device had not been one created by the Romans, but rather by a tyrant ruler named Nabis. It was said that it had been created in the image of his wife, Apega.

  And that while it was created to appear to be a woman with outstretched arms, the implement of torture was said to have resembled Nabis’s wife in all ways—it was heinously cruel. For when a man—or a woman—was sent into the arms of Apega, those arms were filled with springs that gave, and the arms embraced the man those sent into them with sharp spikes and knives, causing massive damage and agony before death.

  “Why do we leave this as it is?” he has asked his father, horrified.

  “There was a time when the Romans came as a conquering army and the Britons here fell before them. Then time went on, hundreds of years of time. Roman men became Roman fathers with British wives. Roman roads remain today, Roman works in stone remain and their teachings are part of our lives. That is Britain now. When the Romans left, fathers stayed with wives and children, and those that did are part of what we are now. We cling to the good; the stone fortress, the “turtle” method of shields we use at war. The way the water runs and runs to us pure. The monasteries, the learning we have, not just from Rome, but from their vast empire, all is with us still. And there are those and there will be those who will again use these machines of torture, and they will think of ever more heinous devices. For us, here, we keep the room to remember. We are human beings, with souls, with respect for a great being. And we here at Kenzie will not fall prey to behaving with such savagery. We must remember this. And we must always defend with strength but seek peace before the horrors of war.”

  He remembered his father’s words now.

  He would not torture the man.

  But the surroundings for questioning might help.

  The rider was in a cell. Rowan stood before it with Col, Padraic, and Gareth behind him. They looked at the man seated on the cold stone floor.

  He looked better.

  The arrow had been carefully removed from his shoulder. Mary had bandaged him and created a sling.

  He had been given a simple linen tunic, clean and undampened by his blood.