Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

S hade was headed back to the keep, an ache in her shoulders and back from a day of tending to more wounded MacLeish warriors who found their way home and continuing to tend to the wounded already home. The air was chilly and filled heavily with delicious scents from several bubbling cauldrons throughout the village, supper close to being ready. She caught sight of her husband deep in talk with Nug.

Three days had passed since he had told her about Amara and try as she might, she could not recall the woman. From Quint's description she was not a woman who would be easily forgotten. Long dark hair. Pale, unmarred skin. Startling blue eyes and the softest voice. She would recall such a woman, but she didn't. So how was she responsible for Amara's death?

It was a mystery and one that kept her husband from her. He hadn't kissed or touched her in the last three days. He did sleep beside her but if she woke snuggled against him, he was quick to leave their bed. The message from his dead wife had opened the wound of losing her and added to the guilt of having fallen in love with her before he had finished avenging Amara's death. It made his love for Amara seem less important. So, to punish himself he avoided her. Unfortunately, he was also punishing her as well and robbing them of what she was sure Amara would want for him… happiness. How she could make Quint see that, she didn't know.

"Move your sorry arse!"

Shade stopped and turned to see Angus being shoved through the village, his hands tied and dried blood covering one side of his face and his one eye bruised and swollen shut. Two other wounded warriors, their hands tied as well, were shoved along with him. Five men followed behind them, laughing as they taunted the wounded men.

Shade didn't hesitate, she ran to Angus to help him.

One of the five men rushed forward and before Shade could reach Angus, the warrior gave her a vicious shove that sent her tumbling to the ground. A sharp stone caught just past the corner of her eye and blood began to pour from the wound.

Shade was swept up on her feet so quickly that she grew dizzy, and she was relieved to find her husband's arm around her waist. But a frightful chill ran through her when she saw the fierce rage swirling in his eyes.

"Stand back or you'll get the same as her," the man who shoved her ordered.

The next thing Shade knew Nug's hand gripped her arm, and her husband had his hand around the man's throat and with a swift lift had his feet dangling just above the ground.

"You are going to die for harming my wife," Quint threatened, the man digging desperately at Quint's fingers in a useless effort to free himself.

Shade watched as Quint sent the man flying a good distance to land with a bounce on the ground, he tossed him so hard.

It all happened so fast that the other four men only now reacted, rushing toward Quint. He hit one then the other with two of the three daggers kept at his waist and had the last one in his hand before anyone could take a breath. "I will see you all dead if you take one more step."

The two other men had stopped when they saw the dagger in his hand.

The man who led them paled. "You're The Monk."

There was no denying it now. Quint's fearlessness, the rage burning in his eyes, the scowl that marred his fine features, and his skill with the daggers all made it clear that he was The Monk. But everyone stood silent waiting for him to confirm it, and he did.

"Aye, I am," Quint said and went and retrieved his daggers from the two dead men, caring not what anyone thought, while keeping close watch on the three remaining men. Though the one he had nearly choked to death was in no condition to oppose him.

"Asher never said anything about The Monk being here, James. I want nothing to do with this." The slim man turned to The Monk. "I have no fight with you. I'll take my leave and keep my life."

"Asher will make you pay for your disloyalty, Ewan," the leader warned.

"Only if he survives The Monk. Besides, I will be long gone before then."

"Tell me where Asher is," The Monk said, "and I will not stop you from leaving."

Ewan shook his head. "I don't know where he went, but I do know he was furious when he received a message and left soon after ordering us here to make sure Clan MacLeish wasn't planning any retaliation."

"This is none of your concern," James said with bravado that the tremor in his voice betrayed.

"You made it my concern when you harmed my wife," The Monk said with an angry sneer that sent a shudder through James that all could see.

Still, James tried to speak bravely. "When Asher hears of this?—"

"Asher will hear of this only when I allow it," The Monk said and looked at Ewan. "If you go to Asher with the news, I will hunt you down and your death will not be painless or quick."

Ewan shook his head vigorously. "I know nothing. Absolutely nothing and you will never find me in this area again."

"Go!" The Monk snapped and Ewan ran off as if the devil was chasing him. He looked at James. "You and your friend over there," he said with barely a glance where the man lay, his breathing still labored. "Are now prisoners of Clan MacLeish."

"This clan belongs to Lord Torrance," James said.

"Not until he comes here and claims it."

"I am here to claim it in his name," James argued.

"How can you claim the land when you are a prisoner here?"

"You cannot fight all of Lord Torrance's warriors."

"I don't have to. I only need to fight one man, then the others will fall along with him," The Monk said with confidence.

"Asher will stop you," James warned.

The Monk's sneering smile spoke loud enough, though his words carried a heavy impact. "I'm counting on it." He looked at Nug and was annoyed when he didn't see his wife there. A quick glance showed she was tending Angus's wound and paying no heed to her own wound. "Is there a place these two can be imprisoned?"

"There are two cells in the dungeon in the bottom of the keep, but they haven't been used in years."

"Let these two ready the cells for themselves, though the one will not be in there long. He has a date with death today," The Monk ordered with a glance at the man now struggling to get to his feet.

Nug called out to a few warriors fit enough to help with the task and they hurried to see it done, James warning the crowd that they would all suffer when Lord Torrance found out.

The Monk went to his wife, people nodding to him as he did, expressing their thanks, though not hiding their fear as they begged him to stay and help them.

"Please stay."

"Help us while Chieftain Ryland heals."

"Forever grateful to you."

"You can keep us safe."

"Please. Please stay."

The Monk ignored them. It didn't matter that people knew who he was, the only thing that mattered was Shade. He felt as if the breath had been knocked out of him when he saw the man shove his wife so hard that she had hit the ground with force and blood began to pool. He wanted to choke the life out of the man when he got her to her feet and saw the blood running down the side of her face mixed with dirt from having fallen face down. He was looking forward to seeing the man dead for what he had done to Shade.

But right now, he wanted to throttle her for thinking of the wounded men before herself.

He watched her as he approached and could tell she was quickly assessing the degree of the various wounds on the men.

"Follow me to the healer's cottage and I will tend your wounds. Afterwards, you will find food and drink in the keep."

"They will wait. Ena will tend to you first," The Monk ordered, when he reached her.

The wounded men stepped away, all but Angus.

"You'll not harm Shade," Angus said.

"Quint would never harm me, Angus," Shade insisted, seeing The Monk's anger had yet to quell.

"He isn't Quint. He's The Monk," Angus said, never taking his eyes off him.

"Wise man, Angus, but Shade is right. I would never harm her," The Monk said and took hold of his wife's arm to see she got to Ena's cottage.

Shade held her tongue especially seeing how people stared at them or how they would bob their head in respect, or was it fright? They had gotten to know Quint and saw he was a good man. Would that all change now that they knew he was the infamous Monk?

He all but propelled her into the cottage and down on a bench when they entered the cottage. Ena followed them in. Her face had paled watching them approach as a woman whispered the news to her.

"See to her wound, Ena," The Monk ordered.

The older woman's hand shook as she took a wet cloth to the wound to clean the blood away.

Shade finally took gentle hold of Ena's hand. "I can see to this with my husband's help, Ena. The wounded warriors are in greater need of your skills."

Ena glanced at The Monk for permission.

"Go," he said, and the woman fled, though he paid her no mind. His attention was on his wife, seeing that her fingers gently probed her wound. He grew more annoyed when he saw how it had begun to bruise. "How bad is it?" he demanded, worried.

Shade heard his concern through his anger. "It is a minor wound, the amount of blood spilled making it appear worse than it is. If you can get all the blood cleaned off it and the dirt, that I can feel on my face, then I can apply honey to it."

Without any instructions, The Monk grabbed the bucket of water and went outside and dumped it to refill it with fresh rainwater from the barrel. He paid no heed to the stares. He was too much in a hurry to return to Shade. He grabbed clean cloths off a nearby bench and set both on the table, then he moved a bench to place in front of Shade.

His anger had yet to leave him, if anything, it seemed to grow, seeing the harm she had suffered, and he was worried his touch would be far from gentle. He soaked the cloth, then rinsed it and took hold of her chin and began to clean the blood away. She never took her eyes off his face and when she cringed, he cursed, and surprisingly the gentleness in her eyes began to calm him.

With every swipe of the cloth, he realized how much he missed touching her, kissing her, making love to her, but it tormented him to think that he had found such pleasure, such happiness with the woman who may have been responsible for Amara's death.

He took firm hold of her chin. "I have no right to love you as much as I do."

Shade was stunned speechless. Never had she expected The Monk to tell her that he loved her before Quint spoke a word of love.

The Monk let go of her chin and dropped his brow to rest against hers. "I have no right to give my heart to another. No right to ache when you are not in my arms. No right to love the intimacy we share. No right to want anything more than to spend the rest of my days with you. I have no right…"

He kissed her, a gentle kiss as if he wasn't sure if he should kiss her or not and Shade's heart soared. It may have been only days since he had kissed her, but it felt far longer than that and she had desperately missed his kisses. He let his lips linger on hers as if uncertain yet not wanting to let go.

His hand went to the nape of her neck to grip her there as if he feared she would deny him and his kiss grew stronger. He kissed her with a strength and desire that stole her breath and flared her passion, and she wished they were in their bedchamber.

He ended the kiss so abruptly that it shocked and disappointed her.

He kept a strong hold at the nape of her neck. "I miss kissing you, touching you, being inside you."

Intimate mages flashed in her head, and she could almost feel him slipping inside her.

He brushed his lips faintly across hers and her eyes fluttered closed when his warm breath whispered near her ear, "I have no right to love you more than I loved Amara."

The shock of his confession stilled her for a moment and when she finally opened her eyes he was gone.

Ena entered and asked, "He did not harm you, did he?"

Shade smiled softly. "Quint, The Monk, whatever you choose to call him loves me far too much to ever hurt me."

The Monk stormed through the village, a sudden wind whipping around him, grabbing at his cloak and lifting it to make him seem like he had wings. Women mumbled blessings and men stared in awe and fright. The Monk was not a man any one of them would want to fight. He was glad he frightened people away, his anger too raw to talk with anyone.

He loved Shade, but he didn't realize the depth of his love for her until he'd helped her tend to her wound. He had missed Amara when he was away but nothing like the last three days, he missed Shade, and she was right in front of him. Her touch comforted like no other and calmed him like no other. One simple touch from her and he knew he was loved. And though he knew Amara loved him and he favored and enjoyed her touch, he never ached for it as he did Shade's touch. He never thought he would love again, but never would he have ever thought that he would love someone more than he had loved Amara. And that angered him, for he felt he betrayed the love Amara had for him.

Servants scurried when he entered the keep, though his loud shout stopped them. "How do I get to the cells?"

A brave servant lad showed him the way and The Monk descended into what felt like the depths of hell, though no fiery flames greeted him only a foul odor and near darkness if it weren't for the few torches that barely lit the way. The cell area was not as dark, and The Monk was glad that floor to ceiling iron bars prevented the prisoners from having any privacy. It was an easier way of finding out what more they knew.

The man The Monk planned to kill ran so fast to get to the bars to plead for his life that he tripped and fell to his knees. He stretched his arms out, his hands gripping the iron bars and begged, "Please. Please, sir, don't kill me. I have a wife and two daughters. They need me. They will starve without me."

"You're a dead man, Rufus," James called out, his face pressed against the bars of his cell. "Asher will see you and your family dead."

"This is all your fault, James. You told me I would get coins that would last me for a good, long time if I fought for Lord Torrance. You told me once the battle was done, I would get the coins and could return home. You lied."

"We weren't done," James argued.

"The battle was done. That's all I agreed to. I was to fight the battle and return home. You lied," Rufus accused again, then tamed the anger in his voice when he looked at The Monk. "I am sorry, sir, I meant your wife no harm. I was angry that I was given no coins and not allowed to return home. I fear for the safety of my family and worry they are starving."

The Monk would not have given a second thought to his plea, but now between not being there for Amara and how he felt about Shade, the thought that the man's family could be suffering disturbed him.

"Tell me where your family is so I may have them brought here and see for myself that you speak the truth, only then will I consider letting you live," The Monk ordered, leaving no room for refusal.

"Don't be a fool, Rufus. He will not let you live after you harmed his wife," James urged.

"If you must, take my life, but I beg you to let my family join Clan MacLeish and make their home here where they will be safe?"

"Aye, I can arrange that," The Monk said.

"You doom your family, Rufus, by bringing them here," James warned. "Asher will find out and when Lord Torrance takes over Clan MacLeish, he will see those dead who betrayed him."

"What makes you think I would let Lord Torrance step a foot on Clan MacLeish land?" The Monk asked with a smirk of confidence.

"He has an army," James said.

"I don't need an army. I only need my daggers, and the deed will be done."

"I will tell you where you can find my family. But, please, I beg you, my youngest daughter, Bethy, has troubling hearing. Please be patient with her."

"I will make sure she is not harmed. Now what can you tell me about Asher?" The Monk asked.

"He is much like Lord Torrance. He is cruel and he lies. His word means nothing and recently Lord Torrance got upset with him. I overheard him yelling at Asher for failing to find and bring someone, a woman, to him. Asher was furious when Lord Torrance told him that he sent someone else to see the task done. But Asher let Lord Torrance know that it made no difference to him, he intended to see the task done since he coveted the generous payment offered for the task."

"Do you know if the message Asher received had anything to do with that task?" The Monk asked.

Rufus shook his head. "I only heard whispers, though if they were true, I could understand what angered Asher."

"What did you hear?"

"Three words… the mission failed."