The Darkland (21 page)

A pair of strong arms
caught her. Very large arms that held her tight and refused to let go. As the
men laughed and the women shrieked in the midst of the lively dance, Mara found
herself being whisked from the hall. It took her a moment to realize that Spencer
was taking her through the kitchens filled with smoke and stench, carrying her
out into the chilly night.

The kitchen yards were
quiet. Mara was genuinely startled by his actions, finally recovering enough to
demand he put her down. But Spencer merely grinned, taking her through an
arched gate and emerging into a small, well-manicured garden. Only after he
closed the gate did he put her to her feet.

Mara was angry. And she
was also very cold in her thin dress. Arms wrapped protectively about her
torso, she stamped her foot at Spencer.

"Why did you bring
me out here?" she demanded.

He smiled lazily,
standing in front of the gate so that she could not escape. "It is far
more pleasant out here, away from the crowds and the smoke of the hall.
Moreover, you were looking rather miserable. I thought you might enjoy a change
of scenery."

"I am cold. And I
want to go back to the hall this instant."

He moved toward her.
"Then if you are cold, I shall warm you."

She did not like the
look in his eye. "Sir Spencer, I can guarantee you shall be sorry if you
touch me. You needn't worry about Kirk's wrath, merely my own. Trust me when I
tell you it shall be painful."

He stopped, his smile
fading. "I... I meant no offense, lady. Certainly I will not touch you if
you do not want me to."

"I do not,"
she said firmly. "I want to go inside."

He watched her walk
around him, heading for the gate. But he did not follow, instead, strolling
toward a bench resting beside the moon-lit pond.

"I was betrothed,
once," he said, loud enough for her to hear. "She died two years ago,
one month before we were to be married. I suppose... I suppose that when I saw
you, it brought back the feelings I held for Genevieve all over again and
naturally, I have had a difficult time controlling myself."

Mara paused by the gate.
Against her better judgment, she felt herself softening and she let go the
latch, half-open, as she gazed at the knight. His back was to her as he lowered
himself on the bench, staring over the waters of the pond.

"I am sorry for
your loss," she said softly. She did not know what else to say. "How
did she die?"

He tore a leaf from a
dead foxglove, picking at it distractedly. "Some strange female ailment.
Her mother would not tell me everything, only that she bled to death
somehow." He could hear Mara's footfalls as she came up behind him and he
repressed the urge to look over his shoulder. As long as she was listening to
him, he intended to keep her occupied. Even with a story that brought tears to
his eyes. "She was a lovely girl. Tiny, with long brown hair and big brown
eyes. And she could sing like an angel."

Mara knew she shouldn't
be listening to him; he had been trying to confuse and intimidate her all
evening and she had no reason to believe that this was anything other than a
ploy. But because he sounded so sincere, she could not help but listen.

"I cannot
sing," she said, still standing behind him. "My sister can, a
little."

Spencer tossed the leaf
he had been toying with into the pond. "I miss my Genevieve. I miss her
laughter, her smile. And I suppose when I saw you... well, the attraction was
instant. And I saw a chance for happiness again."

Mara was feeling rather
torn; he sounded so pathetic. But the fact remained that she wasn't interested
in him no matter how sorrowful his past. No matter how much he was attempting
to draw her to him. Impulsively, she plopped onto the bench beside him.

"I feel for you,
Sir Spencer, truly," she said. "But the fact remains that I am not
Genevieve and I am not interested in marrying you. When I flirted with you
earlier today, it was for no other reason than to make Kirk jealous. I am truly
sorry if I gave you false hope, but you must understand that I love Kirk and I
shall be his wife. There will be another woman to heal your heart, I am sure.
But that woman is not me."

Spencer turned to her,
studying the beauty of her face. "You say that with such certainty. How
can you know?"

She lifted an eyebrow.
"And I ask you, how can
you
know that I am the woman to replace
your Genevieve? If, in fact, she truly existed at all."

His brow furrowed
slightly. "I would not lie to you, my lady."

"Not even to entice
my pity and, mayhap, even my comfort?"

 "Nay," he
shook his head slowly. "Is that what you thought?"

She shrugged. "You
have spent the evening truly to dissuade me from Kirk. What else am I to
think?"

"I was simply
trying to help you think clearly, but I will admit it was for purely selfish
reasons." His gaze raked her. "But Genevieve... she was very, very
real. And the woman who was casting you the evil eye all night is Genevieve's
older sister."

Mara's eyebrows rose in
mild astonishment. "Lady Lily's woman? But you said you had rejected her
suit."

He turned away, his eyes
lingering on the pond.  "I did. When Geni died, Juliet took it upon
herself to marry me.  Only I wanted nothing to do with her and she resents me
for it."

Mara shook her head,
rubbing her arms against the chill of the night. "How terrible for all of
you," she said. After a moment, she cast Spencer a long glance. "Then
surely you of all people should see the reality of what I am telling you. As
you rejected Juliet's suit, I am rejecting yours. I am simply not
interested."

He refused to look at
her, instead, tearing off another dried twig and tossing the pieces into the
pond.  "I can change that."

"I do not want you
to change it," she said firmly. But her tone was kind. "Spencer, I
love Kirk. If you loved Genevieve, then you can understand my position. Please do
not make this difficult."

His jaw ticked, his face
ghostly beneath the haunting moon. "It was not my intention to be
difficult," he said softly.  "But I know I can make you happy if you
will only give me a chance. Kirk is the only beau you have ever known; how do
you know he is the man to love and cherish you for the rest of your life? He
guards The Darkland, for Heaven's sake. The man has allowed several murders to
happen, overlooking the fact that his liege is a vicious monster simply because
he is afraid to confront the truth. Is that the kind of man you wish to marry?
Loyal to his oath to the point of injustice?"

Mara never had the
chance to reply. A soft hum filled the air and Spencer bolted to his feet, his
hand moving to the sword strapped to his thigh.  Mara gasped, stumbling away
from the bench as flashes of moonlight against metal blinded her. And she knew,
even before she saw the face, who had come upon them.

Stone-gray eyes that
were as cold as the blade of his broadsword.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Kirk faced off against Spencer
beneath the silver moon, blade upon blade, will against will. And from the look
in Spencer' eyes, Kirk knew it would not be an easy fight.

"So you bring her
into the night to feed her lies against me." Kirk shook his head slowly.
"I once considered you my friend, Spencer. I can see that I was
mistaken."

Spencer did not waver.
His hand was steady, his broadsword against Kirk's. "You were not
mistaken, my lord. But there are times when friendship pales in comparison to
desire. And in response to your accusation, I did not feed the lady lies
against you. Nothing I have said has been untrue."

Kirk regarded him
carefully, his words directed at Mara. "Has he been bold against you,
lass?"

Terrified of what was to
come, Mara shook her head. "Nay, Kirk. He never touched me."

"But he has tried
to turn you against me."

Tension filled the air.
And Mara knew, once the battle started, it would only end when death claimed
one of the combatants. And the thought that Kirk might fall victim scared her
to death.

Quickly, she moved to
his side, a gentle hand on the arm that held the sword. "He could never
turn me against you," she said softly. "Please come back to the hall
with me. I want to dance."

"In good time,
lass," he said steadily. "After I take care of your suitor."

"I do not want you
to 'take care' of him." She tugged on his arm. "I want you to come
with me, now. Please?"

Kirk moved away from
her, placing her out of the line of fire. "Return to the hall and find
Niles," he told her.  "Tell him that I have need of him."

Mara watched the men
tense, preparing for the first strike. "Nay!" she cried. "Kirk,
please do not! I promise I shall..!"

"There will be
rules established, my lord." Spencer interrupted Mara's pleas. He sounded
so terribly cold. "To the death."

"As expected."

"No mercy."

"None given."

"And the lady
belongs to the winner."

"The lady belongs
to me."

Spencer cocked an
eyebrow, watching Kirk as the man circled around, bringing them further and
further away from Mara. When the blows started, they would be hard and furious
and if she happened to be in the way, the results could be deadly.

"If I win, my lord,
she will belong to me."

Kirk continued to move
back, away from the wall lest he be trapped against it. Spencer' blade was
still poised against Kirk’s as he followed the man's movements, his young face
determined and fearless.

"You shall not
win."

The first blow came heavy,
sparks flying into the damp night air. Mara screamed with fear as Kirk plowed
into Spencer with an unearthly strength. Knowing she had been forgotten, she did
not try to stop the battle. She suspected there was only one man who had a
chance of bringing about a bloodless cessation. Turning on her heel, she raced
for the keep as fast as her legs could carry her.

The men locked in combat
never saw her leave. Spencer was meeting Kirk's onslaught admirably, but in
truth he was having a difficult time. Kirk was larger, stronger, and had the
advantage. But Spencer was young and quick, providing a reluctant target for
Kirk's rage. Sparks from the broadswords burst against the backdrop of the dead
garden as the battle raged.

Kirk backed Spencer
against the small bench overlooking the pond. But the young knight deftly leapt
over the seat, sloshing through the water with Kirk in pursuit. The noise was
deafening as broadswords met with each other, the old bench, and in one case
several stalks of dead foxgloves.

A few servants had heard
the commotion and came to watch, joined by several soldiers. It wasn't often
that they were treated to a true swordfight, with the grace and skill that made
the spectacle exciting to watch. But it was also apparent that the stakes of
this match were high, higher still when Kirk landed a heavy blow to Spencer'
armorless forearm. Blood streamed from the wound, sprinkling the ground with
every move.

"Why do not..."
Spencer grunted as he countered Kirk's thrust. "... you simply leave the
lady to a younger man. Do you truly think you can..." he grunted again as
he narrowly avoided being gored. "... make her happy?"

Kirk would not be
distracted with chatter. With a growl, he lunged for Spencer, anticipating the
man's reaction and thereby countering. The result saw Spencer stabbed in the
shoulder.

"You have no idea
what you're saying," he breathed, taking a step back as a wounded Spencer
took the offensive. "We are very happy. More so after I marry her. Why
couldn't you have simply left her alone?"

"Because I want
her." Spencer backed Kirk against a cluster of dead daisy bushes. Kirk
simply plowed through the bramble, fending off the younger knight's energetic
blows. "When you saw her for the first time, did you not feel the
same?"

"I did."

"And if she had
been involved with another man but not yet betrothed, would you have still
pursued her?"

The vicious thrusts
slowed, coming to an unsteady halt. Panting and sweating, the men stared at one
another.

"Mayhap," Kirk
said quietly. In truth, he would have done exactly what Spencer had done.
"But tell me; if it were you she was involved with and I attempted to woo
her away from you, would you not react as I have?"

Spencer' expression tightened.
"I would have killed you."

There was nothing more
to be said. The swords came up again.

                              
***

The great hall was warm
and smoky, smelling of meat and dogs. Mara raced into the hall, searching
frantically for Lord le Vay. But the only familiar face she saw was that of
Lady Lily, seated at the head table with her relatives. All jealousy for the
woman aside, Mara pushed her way through the crowd of people and servants.

"Where is your
father?" she demanded breathlessly.

Lily looked shocked.
"I... I believe he has gone to his solar with my uncle. Is something
wrong, Lady Mara?"

Mara realized she was
very close to tears. And Lady Lily's kind eyes somehow intensified her anguish.
"Kirk... he and... oh, I must find your father!"

Lily did not question
her further. It was apparent that something was very, very wrong. "Then I
shall take you to him immediately."

They ran from the hall. Lily
led her through the tall, narrow foyer and into a smaller corridor. To their
left a warm room beckoned, scented of hides and liquor. Lionel was seated
before the fire, laughing softly with an older man as his daughter and Mara
stumbled into the room.

"Father!" Lily
said. "Something is...!"

"It's Kirk, my
lord," Mara gasped. "He has challenged Spencer and even now they are
battling in the garden. You must stop them!"

Lionel leapt from his
chair, his bushy eyebrows aloft. "They are battling?" he boomed.
"Great Gods! I told Kirk to leave Spencer alone!"

He propelled his girth
from the room, leaving Lily and Mara to follow. Lionel took the long route to
the garden, not wanting to enter the great hall and create havoc for his guests
with his brusque manner. Skirting the perimeter of the keep, he passed through
a small fortified door and emerged into the bailey. He could hear the clash of
broadswords almost immediately.

Mara hadn't realized
that Lily was holding her hand as they reached the entrance to the garden.
Lionel burst through the gate with the fearful ladies in tow, watching in
horror as Kirk backed a bloodied Spencer against the wall with merciless
strikes.

"Kirk!" he
roared. "Enough!"

Kirk immediately came to
a halt, breathing heavily as he turned to the source of the shout. Spencer,
seeing that Kirk was distracted, brought up his sword. But Kirk caught the
movement, turning away before the man could spear him deep in the belly.
Instead, the broadsword passed cleanly though the muscle of his torso, just
below the ribs. Had Spencer' aim been an inch to the right, he would have
missed altogether.

Mara screamed as Kirk
whirled away from Spencer, bleeding profusely. Lionel rushed forward, putting
his rotund body between the two knights.

"Enough, both of
you!" he bellowed, his hard gaze on Spencer. "An unfair move, Spencer.
You're too good a knight to indulge in such unethical tactics!"

Spencer pushed himself
off the wall, trembling as a result of his blood loss. "It was perfectly legal.
My opponent was distracted and, as we know, distraction can be deadly."

Lionel glared at him.
"When I called a halt to this battle, I meant the both of you." He
glanced at Kirk, standing tall and strong in spite of the fact that blood was
streaming from his wound. "And you. I told you not to kill Spencer, did I
not?"

"He gave me little
choice, my lord," Kirk replied steadily. "I warned him against
pursuing the lady and he chose to ignore me."

Le Vay sighed heavily,
looking to his blond-haired captain. "You knew the lady was spoken for and
still you pursued her? I find this difficult to comprehend, Spencer."

Spencer emitted a ragged
sigh, wiping the sweat from his brow and gingerly touching the wound in his
shoulder. "Some things in the world are worth fighting for, my lord,"
he said quietly. "She is one of them."

Le Vay did not reply for
a moment, waiting for Kirk to erupt. But the knight remained silent and Lionel
maintained his gaze on the young knight.

"No more, Spencer,"
he said, more gently. "It is obvious that you are not meant to have the
lady. I would demand you leave her, and Kirk, in peace."

Spencer eyed his liege
before gazing at Kirk. The reluctance, the defiance, was obvious. But the young
knight said nothing as he turned away, wearily moving for the gate.

Le Vay watched him
stagger his way through the garden, a genuine sadness filling him. Spencer had
been devastated by Genevieve's death two years prior and this was the first
occasion the man had shown interest in another woman. An interest that had been
proven tumultuous. Still, it showed that the death of his lady had not
permanently damaged him; indeed, he was capable of feeling again.

"Lily," le Vay
indicated his daughter, "assist Spencer if you would."

Lily obeyed, helping the
weary knight from the shadowed garden. Mara was left standing alone, her eyes
wide, as Kirk and Lionel faced one another.

"This does not
please me." Le Vay's voice was quiet. "You knew better than to challenge
him."

Kirk's stance was
unwavering. "I explained my reasons, my lord. I was given little
choice."

Le Vay sighed heavily,
pondering the situation as Kirk's wound continued to ooze. The knight had
broken out in a cold sweat, indicative of his pain and exhaustion. After a
moment, Lionel simply shook his head.

"You will
understand when I withdraw my permission for Spencer to accompany you to
Ireland," he said. "And I would suspect you will have little
objection."

Kirk's stone-gray gaze
was even. "I plan to leave before the end of the week. Spencer's shoulder
wound will take longer than that to heal."

Le Vay cocked an
eyebrow. "That is not what I meant and well you know it. I shall not have
you two battling each other when it's the bloody Irish you should be focused
on." He turned away, glancing at Mara as he moved for the gate. "Tend
your knight, lady. And I would suggest you keep him out of my sight for the
remainder of the eve."

Mara nodded obediently,
watching the old man leave the garden. Slowly, she turned to Kirk.

"I am so
sorry," she whispered. "Please forgive me for causing all of
this."

He stood there, staring
at her. After a moment, he sighed heavily and attempted to sheathe his sword.
"You are not responsible, lass. There is no one to blame but myself and Spencer."

He was struggling
wearily with the sword, his left side soaked with a growing red stain and Mara
moved forward, practically yanking the weapon from his grip. "Give this to
me," she demanded quietly. "Let us go inside where I can tend your
wound."

He let her take the
sword, although it was a struggle for her to simply hold the thing. He
continued to gaze at her as she put his great arm around her shoulder, his
blood staining her dress. Gently, she urged him forward.

The servants and soldiers
that still lingered fled in all directions when Mara and Kirk emerged from the
gate. Kirk's pace was slow as Mara nursed him across the courtyard, exhausted
herself from lugging his sword. Kirk wasn't particularly weak from the battle,
but he found himself emotionally drained more than anything. When they entered
the dark corridors of the keep, he took the sword from Mara lest it drag her to
the ground.