The Rose and The Warrior by Karyn Monk

to the milky clear faces of the other two.
    â€œAre you all Melantha’s brothers?”
    â€œAye.” Daniel’s bony fists remained balled menacingly at his sides. “And if I ever hear of you trying to harm her again, MacTier, I swear I’ll kill you.”
    His voice was deadly soft, his boyish face twisted with raw hatred. He was only a child, yet Roarke knew loathing and anguish simmered just beneath his skin, making him capable of almost anything. In all his years as a warrior, he had never seen a lad so completely stripped of every remnant of innocence, and the sight cut him to the bone. Roarke had fought in countless battles, and had led massive assaults on scores of holdings in the name of his laird and his king, but somehow he had always thought of it as a fight against other warriors, not women and children. Of course he had never tarried long once a holding had surrendered. After all, his skills were best utilized where there was another battle to be fought. And so he had always moved on, never permitting himself to dwell upon the terrible suffering he left behind.
    â€œDoes your mother know you’re down here threatening the prisoners?” he enquired with uncustomary gentleness.
    Little Patrick shook his head. “She died a long time ago.”
    â€œOnly two and a half years ago,” Daniel corrected tautly. “That’s not so long.”
    No, Roarke agreed, that was not so long. Muriel and Clementina had been dead five years, and their absence still carved a deep abyss in his soul. He could well imagine the terrible pain experienced by these boys at losing both their mother and father in such a brief span of time. And so Melantha had been forced to assume responsibility for her younger brothers. Roarke had never been home enough to play a significant role in his daughter’s upbringing, but he knew it would require enormous energy and patience to be both mother and father to these three lads. Melantha had strictly forbidden them to come here tonight, and they had recklessly defied her, just as he would have done at their age.
    If she rose during the night to find the three of them missing, she would be overcome with fear.
    â€œYou lads shouldn’t be here. If Melantha finds you with me, she will be very angry with you for disobeying her.”
    The boys exchanged uneasy glances. It was clear they had completely forgotten about this possibility.
    â€œH-he’s right,” Matthew stammered nervously. “Melantha will be awfully mad when she finds out.”
    â€œMelantha won’t find out.” Daniel hurled a contemptuous look at Roarke. “Unless you tell her.”
    â€œI see no reason to tell anyone of your little visit,” said Roarke. “Other than your threats to drive a sword through my foul, rotting heart and burn my eyes into steaming holes, I found your company quite pleasant.”
    Daniel eyed Roarke doubtfully, debating whether or not to trust him. “Come, then, lads,” he finally said. “We’ve seen enough of these butchering MacTiers for one night.”
    Matthew eagerly turned, but young Patrick lingered a moment longer, his little red brows scrunched together.
    â€œDid Magnus really shoot you in the bum?”
    Roarke nodded.
    â€œDid it hurt?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œDoes it still hurt?”
    â€œA little.”
    â€œOnce I fell and cut my forehead, and Melantha made me lie in bed while she pressed cold cloths on it, and she even let me drink some wine. You should ask her if she will do the same for you.”
    â€œSomehow I doubt your sister is overly concerned about my pain,” said Roarke dryly, “but thank you for the suggestion.”
    â€œWe have to go, Patrick!” snapped Daniel.
    â€œI have to go now,” Patrick informed Roarke, “but I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    â€œI shall look forward to that.”
    The lad gifted him with a smile.
    And then he turned