Authors: Donna Fletcher
“You mean that he is so handsome that women fall at his feet?” Thomas asked with a grin.
Both Thomas and Reena ignored Magnus’s scowl.
“Aye,” she said with a nod, then shook her head. Sleep was nipping at her heels fast and furious, and she had no time for it. She had to start mapping the keep now if she was to finish in a day’s time.
“Tell us,” Thomas urged.
“He is a man who respects honor and strength, and a man who commands with a demanding hand, and I sense compassion in his heart.”
Both men sat speechless, staring at her.
Thomas leaned forward. “You know him well.”
Reena smiled at the large man, and then at Magnus. “I see how you truly are a legend, and I hope you will help me in my time of need.” She stood, yawning. “Now, I must begin my mapmaking.”
“You are tired,” Magnus said with concern.
“It will pass.” Reena reached for her sack.
“Take time to rest.” There was that demand again.
She ignored him. “Nay, there is no time.”
“I say there is,” he challenged.
“I know otherwise.” She held firm to her annoyance and worry. “And I beg for you to understand my plight.”
He remained silent for a moment, and Reena held her breath.
“Go do as you will and know that when you grow weary there will be a sleeping pallet ready for you in front of the hearth.”
Reena could not contain the sigh of relief that rushed from her lips. “Thank you. I am free to look throughout your keep?”
“Aye,” Magnus said. “You are free to go where you wish.”
“Again thank you,” she said and went through the arch that led to the cooking area.
“She is different than most women,” Thomas said, staring after her.
“She is too skinny.”
Thomas nodded. “Lack of food will do that.”
“She does have courage.”
“And she is honest.”
“Aye, that she is.”
Thomas waited a moment, then continued. “The question is, will you be honest with her?”
“In time.”
“You will not tell her then?”
“There is no need,” Magnus said.
The puppy woke, yawned, stretched and attempted to climb in Magnus’s lap. He picked him up and held him close, the little pup licking at his chin.
Thomas shook his head. “No need to tell the small wisp of a lass that you already had every intention of paying Peter Kilkern, earl of Culberry, a visit?”
R
eena stretched her arms up as if reaching for the sky. She rolled her neck from side to side, lowered her arms, and gave a huge yawn. It had been a long night, with barely two hours of sleep, and the pallet before the hearth in the great hall had been most welcoming. Now that dawn had graced the land with light she needed to get busy.
She had mapped most of the keep, having started at the top and worked her way down. The tower room had fascinated her. She had recorded the area quickly, but she could not help but linger and look over the many interesting objects. Many were from distant lands, but many were foreign to her, their purpose unknown to her. She realized the room was Magnus’s solar, his retreat that held his prized possessions, and it gave her a more personal glimpse of the Legend.
He had traveled extensively, and she envied him the sights he had seen and the memories he had gathered, though she realized not all were favorable memories. Weapons of all shapes and sizes hung on the walls, along with beautifully crafted tapestries. Wooden chests carved with the most interesting designs mingled with chairs carved in the same fashion. Goblets of silver and gold sat along flasks of the same metals, and bright-colored silks lay draped over chairs and chests. Then there were the skulls of animals and pelts of the softest fur and a silver metal shield imprinted with strange symbols and several large dents, making her cringe at the thought of the severe blows it had suffered.
She had lingered too long in that particular room, but then there had been so much of interest to look at. She had hurried on after that, recording with her charcoal and storing objects in her mind so that she could add pertinent details later.
Now that the sun had risen she wanted to take advantage of the light and the fine weather.
The keep was just coming to life, the smell of fresh-cooked food wafting in the hall from the kitchen. The delicious aroma made her lick her lips. But there was no time to eat if she was to finish mapping the castle grounds. Besides, there were many in her village that would not have food this day. And that reminded her of the consequences of her task at hand. She could not fail her people. They needed a champion, someone to defend them and to see that they had decent lodgings and adequate food—they needed the Legend.
And she intended to make certain they got the Legend.
She would map his keep and castle grounds so well that he would realize that he could not do without her skills, and though her agreement would bind her to him, she did not mind—the thought actually excited her. Being his mapmaker, she would travel with him and get to see and to record far distant lands, and she would learn and strive to improve her skills.
Reena felt confident, while her stomach quietly protested its hunger. With a hand to her stomach she said, “There will be time for food later.”
“I think not.”
The strong objection had her spinning on her heels to face the Legend. His good looks caused her stomach to flutter. She had never known or seen such a handsome man.
Today he wore all black, the leather on his tunic trimmed with silver metalwork over his shoulder and across his chest in a well-crafted, circular design. His brown hair was tied back with a few strands of golden blond falling free. But it was the sight of the plump black puppy he held in his arms that made him appear less intimidating.
“You will fill your protesting stomach before you set to work.” He summoned a servant who lingered nearby.
The young woman’s face lit with a wide smile as she hurried over to him.
“Fill this table close to the hearth with a hearty fare.”
The lass nodded, her smile remaining as she hurried off.
Magnus directed Reena to the table flanked by two benches.
Reena felt it impolite to refuse his offer, and by the strong tone of his voice, he told her he would have it no other way. With little choice and not wanting to waste precious time in arguing, she joined him for the morning meal.
He placed the puppy on the ground, and the little animal wandered over to her. She picked him up before she sat down and cuddled him to her. He in turn licked her face, then his attention was caught by something on the ground. He squirmed out of her arms and went off to play with his discovery.
“What do you call him?”
Magnus sat opposite her, his arms braced on the table. “I had thought to give him a warrior’s name, but he possesses more friendly traits than warring instincts. So I named him after a friend with a similar nature—Horace.”
Reena smiled and looked at the plump puppy that frolicked in delight after whatever caught his eye. “I think Horace suits him.”
“Perhaps, but I chose him from the litter, thinking him to be of a warrior’s mind.”
“Looks can deceive. He is plump and looks as though he will grow large and be strong.”
“My exact thought when I first saw him.”
Reena spoke in defense of the pup. “He is young and you can guide and train him.”
“He runs behind me any time a voice is raised or someone unfamiliar approaches, and he pays no attention to my commands.”
Reena could not help but laugh and watched as the plump pup scurried under the table when two servants entered the hall with trays of food. “He knows neither of them?”
“Sadly, he knows them both, so I should amend my words and say he runs and hides by me any time
anyone
approaches.”
Reena continued to laugh softly while the young servant girls stacked the table with meats, eggs, cheeses, breads and hot cider. She could not help but think how this abundance of food would be appreciated in her village, and she felt a twinge of guilt for being able to eat so well this day.
“Your smile fades quickly,” Magnus said and began to pile her plate with an assortment of food.
“I think of my village.” Sadness filled her words and sorrow filled her blue eyes.
He piled his own plate high after filling their tankards with mulled cider. “The only thing you can do for them now is eat and stay strong.”
Guilt swept over her. She thought of her mother and father and how Brigid was looking after them. She was probably finding it difficult to pretend that Reena was away on a mapping quest. Brigid would be able to hold out only so long before confessing the truth for her absence, and by then she hoped to be home—the Legend along with her.
“Eat,” he urged.
She bristled at his order. She had a good appetite and ate heartily when food was plentiful, but food had been far from plentiful and she had relinquished most of her share to the children. She knew she had lost much weight, and it was obvious he thought the same.
He grew quiet, and she knew he gave thought before he spoke. “You do not need to rush with the mapping, you may—”
She interrupted him quickly. “We made an agreement and I will keep my end. I expect the same of you.” With that she placed a piece of meat and cheese on a piece of the dark bread, topped it with another piece of bread, took a generous swallow of cider and stood. “I waste precious time.”
She snatched her sack from the bench and slipped on her wool jacket. “When night falls, my mapping will be complete. I will see you then, and our agreement will be settled.” She walked to the great hall doors, stopped and turned to him. “Thank you for your generous hospitality.”
She opened the door and Horace raced out from under the table, chasing after her, squeezing out the door just before it closed behind her.
Magnus sat there grinning. She was a bundle of strength and determination for a skinny lass. She was right—looks do deceive. No one would credit her with strength, yet she possessed a remarkable amount. And while her skinny features did not attract, there was something intriguing about her. She did have beautiful hair, shiny black and long to the middle of her back and straight—not a wave or curl to any silky strand. Then there were her eyes—blue, the bright blue of a summer’s day. And there was the fact that she did not seem at all interested in him. The women he met either sought to catch his eye or cowered at the sight of him, yet Reena did neither. She spoke her mind with courage and conducted herself with respect.
He had never encountered a woman like her and that itself presented a challenge to him.
He would enjoy getting to know her better.
Thomas entered the great hall shaking his head and laughing. He joined Magnus at the table, helping himself to Reena’s plate of food. “Horace is sticking close to Reena, especially since she is sharing her food with him.”
Magnus cringed. “Now he will not only be a coward, he will be a spoiled coward.”
“She is fast and accurate in her mapping skills. I watched her and was surprised by the details she included. I never noticed that cleric David stacks his wood in a particular order, but Reena did and drew it exactly how he stacked it. She also made certain to include where all weapons and tools were located.”
“What you are saying is that her skills could prove useful to us?”
Thomas refilled his plate. “Aye, very useful, since most maps are crudely drawn and lack detail, but Reena includes things one would not expect on a map. It is as though her eye must record whatever she sees. And your plans were to go to Culberry regardless of the plight of Reena’s village.”
“It would not be wise for her to be aware of my plans.”
“Or the truth behind them?”
“That is for me alone.”
Thomas shrugged and reached for a thick slice of bread. “Stubborn as usual.”
His remark did not bother Magnus. “My stubbornness is my shield.”
“Your stubbornness is your prison. Reena seems a good lass and her talents could prove useful. Why not just tell her you go her way, offer the assistance you know you will not deny her and give her a position as your official mapmaker—that would settle everything.”
“I could do that, but I think what brought Reena to me was more than just help for her village.”
“What else does she seek?”
“Life.”
“Then your plans do include her? For you can teach her much of life.”
Magnus smiled. “Aye, my plans include her.”
“I like her.”
“Do you, now?” Magnus said.
Thomas blushed a bright red. “Not that way. She is a nice woman and has courage.”
Magnus leaned his arms on the edge of the table. “What you mean is that she was not intimidated by the sight of you.”
Thomas shrugged, as if a woman’s reaction to him mattered not. “She faced me with courage and spoke her mind—and shortly after, she talked with me as though we were friends.”
Magnus felt for his friend. While Thomas had known women, he had never known love. Deserted at the young age of five, he had been raised by the brutal innkeeper at the inn where he had been abandoned. The man had physically abused Thomas, breaking his nose several times. It was by chance—though Magnus often thought it was fate that he had stopped at the dismal inn—that Thomas had come to a much welcome rescue when a band of thieves had attempted to rob Magnus. Afterward they had shared several ales and talked well into the night; by morning Thomas had left with Magnus. That had been eight years ago, when Thomas had barely been twenty and Magnus twenty and three. They had been together ever since, their friendship growing stronger with the passing years.
While Magnus never lacked for female companionship, coins were the only way Thomas could find a companion. Magnus hoped that one day his friend would find a woman who would accept him for who he was.
“Reena is much like me,” Thomas said.
Magnus found his remark curious. “How so?”
“Many misjudge her. They think her weak because she is small and thin, like many think me stupid because I am large and ugly.”
“Looks deceive,” Magnus said. He had been surprised to learn that Thomas was more intelligent than anyone could imagine and could even read and write. A man who had traveled extensively with a troupe of performers had stopped at the inn and taken a room. He had been penniless, and with no coin to pay the innkeeper, he had been put to work at the inn, and he and Thomas had formed a friendship. The man had taught him to read and write before sneaking off one night with a troupe of performers passing by.
“Your looks deceive also.”
“Aye, they do,” Magnus admitted. “My fine features make many think me a fine man.”
“Until they see you dressed for battle,” Thomas said and shivered. “You put the fear of the devil in the devil himself. Your eyes turn cold and empty, your features grow taut and the air around you grows heavy with fear.”
“It is who I am—the Legend.”
“It is not who you are.” Thomas said no more. There was no need; both men knew and understood each other well. Their bond of friendship was strong, their insight into each other that of loving brothers.
“It is who I am out of necessity.”
“Aye, life does that to us all—teaches us to deal out of necessity.”
Magnus turned silent and looked deep in thought.
Thomas remained quiet for a few moments, giving him time, then he spoke. “You knew it would come to this, it was but a matter of time.”
“Aye, but I did not expect interference from a skinny young woman who prides herself on her mapmaking skills, and now—”