Legendary Warrior (13 page)

“Do you not look for a good woman to take as a wife?”

“I seek a woman to love to take as my wife.”

“Can love not come later in a marriage?” Reena asked.

“It is always possible, but then without a spark of love, a bit of interest or at least an attraction, indifference and hate can also come later.”

He walked around the desk, slowly lowered his lips to hers, and kissed her softly. “Goodnight, and while you sleep, think of who
you
wish to love.”

Chapter 16

A
n unusually harsh winter hit the land, and much time was spent indoors by all. Reena visited with her mother and father when she could, though oftentimes when she did, her father was busy entertaining the village children with heroic tales.

Life was good for all right now even though eyes were kept wide and strangers watched carefully. Safety was not taken for granted. Kilkern could not be trusted. He waited and planned, and eventually he would make himself known.

Reena hurried down the stairs to the great hall. She was starving and looking forward to talking with Brigid. They’d made plans to meet this morning and discuss the remaining work that needed finishing in the tower room.

She caught sight of Brigid at a table close to the fireplace. Thomas sat beside her and Magnus stood, his look angry. Something was wrong. She hurried over to the trio.

“What has happened?” Reena asked, a sense of dread descending on her.

Magnus answered. “I received a message from Kilkern that Brigid is to be turned over to him for theft from his property.”

“Brigid stole nothing from him,” Reena argued.

“He claims otherwise and demands a punishment fitting the crime. He refuses any compensation, insisting the object was invaluable.”

“What is it he claims she stole? And why wait until now to accuse?” Reena was furious and stood beside her friend, her hand on her shoulder. She could feel Brigid tremble with fear, and she squeezed her shoulder in reassurance.

Silence hung heavy in the air and Reena wondered over it, glancing from one to another in search of an answer.

Magnus spoke. “He claims he only recently realized he no longer possessed the object and that he was with Brigid when he last saw it.”

“And this priceless object is?”

“A map.”

Reena shook her head. “A map? A map of what? And why would a map be so important to him?”

“Kilkern claims that this map shows that Dunhurnal land is actually Kilkern land and that it was divided unlawfully and given to one Brian Dunhurnal. Dates and boundaries on the map and the signature of the king would prove his claim. He insists that Brigid stole it for me.”

“That is ridiculous,” Reena said. “She did not know you until you arrived here with me.”

“Kilkern claims otherwise, and if I do not surrender Brigid, he warns that he will petition the king to have her turned over to him, in addition to the return of Dunhurnal land, which he says rightfully belongs to him.”

Reena could do nothing but shake her head at the absurdity of Kilkern’s claims.

“He but baits me, wanting me to make a foolish move,” Magnus said.

“What will you do?” Reena asked, her hand remaining firm on her friend’s shoulder.

“First, I will make certain Brigid has extra protection. I would expect Kilkern to make an attempt to abduct her.” Magnus looked to Thomas. “You will guard her well.”

“Have no doubt of that,” Thomas said. “I will not leave her side.”

Brigid cast sympathetic eyes on Thomas. “You will tire of seeing my face.”

“Beauty never tires the eyes.”

“Oh, Thomas,” Brigid said. “I am glad it is you who will guard me. I will feel well protected.”

“And what of Kilkern?” Reena asked. “What is to be done about him?”

“He will be seen to in time. He will not succeed in taking this land. It belongs to me and will remain mine,” Magnus said with a confidence that had none doubting his words. “Until then life goes on as usual. Now let us eat, for I am starving.”

Thomas agreed with a strong, “Aye.”

Reena added similar sentiments. “I hunger for a good meal.”

Brigid laughed. “My stomach tells me the same, and this is good, for if we truly feared Kilkern, none of us would be so hungry.”

They laughed along with her, and soon the table was covered with trays and platters of hot food and pitchers of mulled cider. After they ate Thomas followed Brigid, along with Horace, to the tower room, and Magnus and Reena went off to continue mapping the keep. It was near finished, with only the area beneath the keep, which had served as a prison, to explore.

With torch in hand, Magnus preceded Reena down the narrow stone staircase.

“Watch your step,” he cautioned. “A dampness fills this passageway and makes the stones slippery.”

The further they descended, the more damp it became, and a stench filled the already musty air. Magnus stopped at the bottom step and held the torch high, the flickering flame casting a ghostly light over his handsome face. “I had the prison cells cleaned as best as possible, but a scent lingers, and I think it always will. If the odor offends you, we can try another day, or I can detail the cells and you can map them from my memory.”

“Nay, I need to see the area for myself or else the map will not be as accurate as it should be. The odor is strange and could certainly be obnoxious to the senses, but I will be fine.”

“You will tell me if the smell begins to trouble you?”

“Aye,” she answered. “Let us start—the sooner I map, the sooner we can leave the foul odor behind us.”

Magnus nodded and proceeded down the corridor. “I had several torches lit so that there would be sufficient light for you.”

Six torches flamed brightly in metal wall sconces and shed light on an area where darkness had once reigned. Reena stood silent, staring at the cells. The doors were open wide, and complete darkness greeted anyone who entered. The thought of being swallowed by the cavernous black hole ran a shiver through her.

Magnus moved next to her. “Can you do this?”

She took a breath and wished she had not: the odor suddenly turned to a foul stench. “Yes.”

“All the cells are the same,” Magnus said, raising the torch high after stepping into the first cell, chasing the darkness to crouch in the corners. “Sketch one and you sketch them all.”

“Nay,” she argued. “That is not so, I wish to see every cell.” And she did, her disgust growing as she sketched and thought of the people who had suffered here. A small window set high in the thick wooden door would have been the only source of light in each cell—if the wall torches remained lit. Otherwise, complete darkness engulfed the cells.

The foul odor grew stronger as they reached the end cell, and Reena realized the stench came from the opening beyond the six cells. Magnus blocked the entrance, and when she moved to walk past him, he held out his arm, preventing her from going any further.

“That room needs no mapping.”

“If I am to do a thorough map of the keep, all rooms must be included.”

“It is not for you to see.”

“I must,” she insisted.

He was blunt. “It is where prisoners were tortured.”

“All the more reason to record it,” she said and pushed his arm away to enter the foreboding room.

Reena froze with her first step into the room and then slowly turned in a circle to view the horror in front of her. Metal cages hung from the ceiling and a large cauldron occupied the middle of the room, cold ashes cradling the bottom. A rack with metal cuffs and chains secured to top and bottom stretched out like a bed near the cauldron. Chains with attached metal cuffs hung from metal rings in the wall, and metal implements of torture lay rusted on the ground.

She closed her eyes for a moment and could almost hear the painful screams, the pleas of mercy and the smell of blood and burning flesh.

How could a man inflict such pain on another?

Magnus shoved the torch in the wall sconce and walked up behind her. “Survival has its horrors.”

“Nay,” Reena said, a tear in her eye. “There is no excuse for man’s inhumanity to man.”

“Life needs defending at times.”

“Defending, aye.” She pointed to the various torture devices. “But this is not defending, this is pure horror to humanity. And I will record every speck of it.”

She set to work drawing and examining the room in detail so that her recording of this horror prison would be exact. When an hour had passed, Magnus said, “Enough.”

“I am almost done.” Her hand had not stopped sketching and did not slow down.

“You are done.” He stilled her hand with his. “No more, Reena.”

She glared at him. “I will finish here, and then I will sketch something of beauty to rid me of this horror.”

“Will you be able to recognize beauty after viewing horror?”

Her answer came easily. “Aye, I see beauty every day when I look upon your face.”

Magnus stepped closer to her, his hands going to her waist. “You find beauty in the Legend? Some would think you insane.”

Her hand dropped to the side, holding on to her piece of charcoal and drawing paper. “They do not know the Legend as I do.”

He moved closer. “You know not the Legend, nor do you want to.”

She looked in his dark eyes and how they glistened with light from the flaming torches. Light and darkness. Two men in one. “I know he is a fair man.”

His laugh was haunting. “Fair? I have seen men tortured—” His silence was sudden, as if he thought better of his words.

She wanted to know more, though her legs trembled. He wore no iron helmet now, but it was the Legend who stood in front of her and who rested his strong hands on her hips.

She found the courage to ask. “Was it difficult to watch?”

His answer sent a cold shiver down her spine. “I was the one who ordered the torture.”

This was the Legend, the fearless man who instilled fear in his foe and friend alike. And this was the man she worried that she might be falling in love with? Perhaps she was insane.

His hands tightened at her waist. “You know me not, Reena.”

“I would like to know you and understand you, and I will begin by drawing you.”

“You still see beauty in me?” He seemed surprised.

She touched his cheek. He had inflicted suffering, but had suffering been inflicted on him? “I see beauty and much more.” She traced a finger over his cheekbone. “Pride is obvious.”

His fine lips quivered in laughter, though it turned to a smile.

She squeezed his chin. “Stubbornness.”

“Strength,” he argued on a laugh.

She corrected him with a gentle brush of her finger across his forehead. “Strength.” She moved to the corners of his eyes. “Insight.” Her finger trailed down to his mouth and slowly traced his lips. “Humor, honesty, gentleness and . . .”

Actions, she decided, would say more than words. She stood on her toes and slowly brushed her lips across his. She traced his lips with her wet tongue and kissed him again. She nipped at his lower lips and kissed him again.

In an instant he pulled her to him, her paper and charcoal falling out of her hand and her arms rushing around his neck. They locked in a fiery kiss, their surroundings ignored, their need a force of raging desire that made them prisoners of passion.

His mouth moved down to claim her neck, and she turned her head, giving him free rein. She gave him mere seconds to enjoy, then returned to claim more kisses from him, hungry for the taste of him.

He stopped her, cupping her face in his hands. “This is not the place for this. I want to kiss you in the sunlight, where I can see the beauty of your face, not in the dark recesses of a room that knew only suffering.”

He retrieved her drawings from the ground, handed them to her, and lifted the torch from the sconce. “Let us find a place of light—my solar.”

Magnus followed Reena from the room, her lips alive with the taste of him and aching to taste more. It seemed the more she kissed him, the more she wanted to kiss him. And she did not even attempt to dissuade or reason with herself.

Was this nonsensical feeling love?

Or was it foolishness?

Either way she was in trouble, for at the moment she did not care—another effect of love, or foolishness?

And what of the consequences when they entered his solar?

What did he expect from her? What did she expect from herself? Was she ready to face the consequences of her actions? Did she not remember her own intentions? She wished to love and be loved when she chose to share intimacy with a man. No mention of love had passed between them. It was pure passion, nothing more. Is this what she wished for?

Her pace slowed as reality cooled her emotions, and she realized there was more for her to give thought to before she shared any intimacy with him.

Magnus eased a hand to her waist, guiding her up the stairwell and feeling her tension build with each slow step she took. He sought to ease her concern. “You will be able to draw me in the light.”

Her step faltered slightly, though his strong hand kept her firmly in place.

“I am eager to draw you.” She heard her own relief. Why, then, did disappointment nip at her senses?

He opened the door to his solar and guided her with a firm hand inside. An overcast sky prevented any sunlight from entering through the windows, and the roaring fire in the hearth was the only source of light, leaving shadows to lurk in the corners.

“We will need much more light in here if I am to draw you,” Reena said.