Dark Warrior (Warrior 2)

A rumble of thunder woke Mary in the morning, and she was not surprised to see that Michael was not there.

She had expected his absence in the morning, his last words to her indicating his early departure.

“I will always be near.”

Mary fought back tears as she dressed and gathered her belongings. She had to remain strong. She would face much adversity in the days ahead and she could not resort to tears whenever she was upset. But the persistent tears threatened again when she saw that he had left her berries and roots for breakfast. She could not, however, hold her tears in any longer when she went to the stream. There near the water’s edge, written deeply in the dirt was I love you.

She cried, aching for his arms to wrap around her, aching for this to be a nightmare that she would wake up from, aching for his love.

She forced her sobbing to stop. Strength would be her shield and love her weapon to use to defend herself against Decimus. She would be victorious, for life without Michael would be much too empty. And if her suspicions were right Roarke would soon arrive to take her to Magnus, and she would not greet him with tears. Michael would never leave her on her own. He would always make certain she was protected.

I will always be near.

She dried her face with the edge of her skirt, looked around and called out, “I love you, be safe.”

She returned to the keep, packed the last of her few meager belongings, and walked to the door. Before she closed the door behind her she took one last look around and smiled. This crumbled-down keep would always hold a special spot in her heart. She shut the door and sat on the stone wall to wait for Roarke.

It was not long before she heard his approach. She knew his footfalls were purposely heavy, making her aware of his arrival. She liked Roarke, he was easy to talk with, kind, and trustworthy. She could understand Michael and he being friends.

Mary stood when Roarke emerged from the woods, a broad smile on his face. He would try to cheer her, he was like that, always being in good spirits and wanting to share his mirth with others.

“It is proud I am to accompany a brave warrior into battle,” he said once he stood in front of her.

She forced a smile, not feeling brave, though knowing this was her destiny. The seer’s words helped.

You will be the demise of Decimus.

If she was right then there was hope for her and Michael.

The day’s journey was slow, rain forcing them to seek shelter. Mary was too preoccupied to hold a conversation and Roarke seemed to understand and remained quiet. They camped early that evening due to the uncooperative weather, and after a quick meal they both slept.

Mary woke early upset by a dream. She had dreamed that Michael lay beside her, his arm wrapped around her. She could almost feel him, hear his breathing and the steady beat of his heart. She allowed herself only a moment of sorrow.

Her own pity would do her no good. Soon she would come face-to-face with the man who had robbed her of her parents and her life. She would need all her strength and intelligence to deal with him.

“Do you know of Decimus?” she asked Roarke once they began walking.

“Unfortunately I do.”

“I would like to know all I could about him.”

“It is always wise to know one’s enemy when entering into battle,” Roarke said.

“And this marriage will be a battle.”

“A silent one would be more beneficial.”

“I thought the same myself,” she said. “The more I listen, the more I learn, the more I gain.”

“Your freedom?” he asked with a smile.

She laughed. “Freedom is intoxicating.” Her laughter faded. “And it is our God-given right.”

“Aye, that it is.”

“So tell me what you know of Decimus.”

“His temper is what you will need to be most careful of.”

“It is unpredictable?” she asked eager to learn all she could.

“Extremely, no one knows what will ignite him and send him into a rage. I have heard people quake at his feet and beg for mercy without him having raised a hand. I wonder if he is feared more than the devil.”

“How does he treat women?”

“He treats the accused no differently, be they man, woman, or child. They repent or suffer the consequences. He believes himself on a mission for God. He will let nothing stand in his way.”

“I stand in his way.”

“More than you know.”

She shook her head, confused. “I do not understand his obsession with me. I am no threat to him.”

“Know that you are and tread lightly or you will suffer more than you thought possible.”

“You need not worry, I will be careful.”

“Be more than careful,” he advised. “Be aware, very aware.”