Dark Warrior by Donna Fletcher Page A

if I should return before you were done.”
    She shook her head again.
    â€œAye, you did,” he said. “You knew I would glance past the tree line and if I did not spot you, I would go no farther. Your actions were born of intelligence and I commend you.”
    Her eyes rounded in surprise.
    â€œThough I admonish you for disobeying my orders.”
    She sighed and nodded.
    Foolish. She had been foolish .
    Then she shook her head to let him know she would never disobey him again.
    â€œPromise me, Mary. Promise me you will heed my orders for it may endanger your life as it did today.”
    She placed her hand to her heart and nodded.
    â€œIt is a warrior’s honor that you give me?”
    She stuck her chin up and then gave a firm nod.
    â€œGood, then I will say no more about it.”
    They slept well that night wrapped in each other’s arms, knowing time was their enemy. It would end and they would part, both understood the necessity of it, and both prayed for a miracle.
    Early the next morning they sat on the bank of the stream fishing for their breakfast. Poles were made of thick willow branches and old frayed rope with rusty hooks fashioned from scrap metal. The fish seemed to ignore the hook, instead feeding on the tiny fish that swam near the surface.
    â€œThey taunt us,” Michael said, humor edging his harsh tone.
    Mary nodded and motioned that she was not that hungry. She reached for a stick and wrote in the dirt. Speak with me.
    â€œOf what do you wish to speak?”
    You when a lad .
    That caused a pause and Mary hoped she had not stirred painful memories. Then she heard a soft rumble of laughter as though he had attempted to conceal it but failed.
    Tell me, she urged, emphasizing her desire to hear about him with a deep underscore drawn beneath the words.
    â€œAdventure,” he said and she thought she could feel his smile; he sounded happy. “I was forever getting myself lost in the woods or stranded in a boat in the middle of a loch, or stuck in a tree that seemed far taller once I had climbed it. But no one or nothing could stop me from exploring and I was fortunate to have a family who encouraged my exploits.”
    Siblings?
    A lengthy pause proceeded. “A sister.”
    She waited, the hesitancy in his voice making her wonder if he would speak no more about her.
    Then as if he opened a door long closed and locked tightly, he began to talk.
    â€œCathleen was my little sister.”
    His voice swelled with emotion and Mary wondered if a tear touched his eye.
    â€œShe forever followed me around and I looked after her as an older brother should. I was there whenever she needed me. If she fell down, I picked her up and tended her wounds. If she cried I wiped her tears. It was my duty to see to her care, my father reminded me of that on his deathbed. I was to take care of my mother and sister, but it was no chore for me. I loved them both and would do anything for them.”
    It was not difficult to realize that something had happened to his family. Mary waited, hoping he would continue to share his past and his pain with her, hoping perhaps it would help heal him.
    â€œCathleen loved and trusted everyone. Her constant smile was born of a joyous and generous heart. And she was so very beautiful.”
    Was. What had happened to her? Mary wondered if somehow his sister was connected to the reason that he became the Dark One.
    â€œShe thirsted for knowledge.”
    Mary smiled and tapped her chest to let him know she felt the same.
    He grabbed her hand so tightly that she winced, but he did not release it.
    â€œSeeking knowledge can cause you harm.”
    She nodded and eased his fingers off her wrist before writing: I know, but knowledge is power .
    â€œWhat power does it bring peasants? What good does knowledge do them?” He sounded angry.
    Mary remained patient, aware that his anger came from a painful memory. It frees us.
    â€œThey continue to