Dark Warrior (Warrior 2)

He remained silent, revealing nothing of their destination to her. And after almost an hour of silence she could stand it no more.

“Where do we go, my lord?”

He turned his head slowly toward her. “That is not your concern.”

She remained silent knowing full well he would only remind her that she was not to speak unless spoken to. She allowed her own thoughts to keep her company. She hoped that it would take until daybreak to reach their destination, then fatigue would surely force him to seek sleep and not her.

Hours passed by and she grew tired, her head bobbing until finally she tucked herself into the corner of the coach and drifted off to sleep.

She did not know how long she had slept when Decimus woke her with a start.

“We are here, Mary, wake up.”

He sounded annoyed and she wondered who would suffer his wrath this evening. Something important was obviously on his mind, and whatever it was it did not sit well with him.

Decimus exited the coach first and assisted her as she stepped out. Her eyes rounded at the sight of the looming fortress in front of her. It was large, the stones dark, and the many torches glared like the eyes of a hundred demons.

She shivered and instinctively stepped closer to Decimus. Surprisingly he placed his arm around her, but then it was his duty to protect her and he would do right by his husbandly duties.

She could not help but ask, “What is this place?”

“Hell,” he whispered harshly.

Her eyes rounded like bright full moons and, as they entered the ominous structure, a chill ran down her spine. He had confirmed her worst fear. She had just stepped through the gates of hell.

Mary huddled closer to her husband’s side when she thought she heard a horrifying cry. “What is that?”

His arm tightened around her. “It is none of your concern.”

There were warriors everywhere in the great hall and the few who looked to be servants appeared fearful and cautious in their manners. It seemed like a lot of activity for so late in the evening.

A large man approached Decimus. He wore a leather apron, his head was bald and his face scarred. “My lord, they await you.”

“Did you heed my warning, Edmond?”

The man dropped his glance to the ground. “I thought only to please you, my lord. I started on the woman.”

Mary’s stomach rolled, realizing this man tortured an innocent.

“My orders, Edmond?” Decimus asked with an anger that had the large man trembling.

“To wait upon you, my lord.”

Mary trembled when she realized she was in the Fortress of Hell, temporary home to Decimus, and a place where heretics met their fate. She had heard tales about it and thought them just that. She did not think such an evil place could truly exist, but now she knew it did. Its true name was the Fortress of Redemption, but no one was ever released from the fortress; once inside you were doomed, and redemption only came with death.

“An order you failed to obey.”

“I—I—but meant—”

“Be gone from my sight. I will deal with you later.”

Before anyone else could approach him, he turned with Mary firm in his arms and hurried her to climb the stairs until she thought them at the very top of the structure. They entered a room sparse with furnishings and few candles, though a fire burned bright in the large fireplace.

Mary hurried to the flames to warm her hands and ease her concern. “Are we to live here?”

He shook his head. “This will not be our home. This is a place where pagans and sinners meet their punishment and fate. I will not have my wife subjected to such vile matters.”

Her shoulders slumped in relief, but only for a moment. Decimus pulled his tunic and shirt off and she thought he readied himself for bed and their union.

Her eyes locked on his naked chest and then his broad back as he turned away from her. He was built magnificently, his body a work of art, tapering and expanding in perfect symmetry and strength. He was powerful in muscle and form and that made Mary all the more nervous.

She remained by the fire, rubbing together hands that insisted on remaining chilled. How would she ever get through this night? Was it too late to feign an illness?

Decimus opened a chest near the window and took out a black shirt and gray tunic. He slipped them on and walked toward her.

“I had hoped to consummate our vows tonight but that is not possible. I have important matters to attend to.”

Mary’s legs trembled when she asked, “You go to torture people?”

He grabbed her chin. “Listen well, wife. You will ask me no questions. I have been tolerant of you thus far, but today it changes. Today you are my wife and will now obey me in all matters. Know your place is not to question me; your place is to serve me.”