The Legend took the reins of the gray mare and handed them to Reena. “She is yours, treat her well and she will serve you well.”
Before she could thank him he reached out, grabbed her by the waist, and hoisted her up on the horse. Her breath caught with the ease and swiftness of his actions. It was as if she weighed nothing to him. He could move her about like a simple reed in the wind with no effort at all. His strength suddenly intimidated, and she reminded herself to pay heed to it.
He mounted his own horse, the stallion’s demeanor obedient in the presence of the Legend.
“You will ride behind me and Thomas unless I order otherwise.”
She nodded again, her voice, she feared, lost forever somewhere in the depths of her trembling stomach. She followed behind him after Thomas rode forward and easily directed the horse behind the two men. She was a compliant mare, though not docile. Reena could feel the strength of her body beneath and against her legs, and she knew without a doubt that the mare possessed power.
Reena kept a steady eye on the Legend’s back, and it was not until at least an hour later that her body finally relaxed and her voice returned, though she remained silent. Her mind had a difficult time releasing the image of the Legend emerging from the keep.
He was as her father had so often described him—fearful to look at. A tactic that she was certain served him well in battle, but he was not presently in battle and still he was dressed as he was. No wonder he was so feared; he looked forever ready to battle. Who would dare oppose a man who was always prepared to fight?
She forced herself to remember Magnus and his fine qualities, but her urgings did little to comfort her. The dark-clad man in front of her was too imposing to even think that Magnus resided within him.
And she was indebted to this dark lord for six months. She sighed. Had she been too hasty? She shook her head, her answer obvious. Her village needed help and she needed to remain brave no matter how much she trembled.
Clouds continued to drift past the sun intermittently throughout the day. A chill autumn wind swept around the band of travelers, reminding them that winter was not far off and now was a good time for a journey.
If the weather held, they would have no trouble reaching her village in two days’ time. She was glad to be returning home. She had worried about family and friends even though she had been gone for a mere six days. It took only one day’s time for an incident to change lives completely.
Reena kept a steady eye on the Legend’s back. His dark side was necessary to her village. She wanted Peter Kilkern to pay for Brigid’s husband’s death, and she wanted him gone and the Legend to be the lord of their land. She hoped then that joy would return to Brigid, laughter to her village and the abundance of food they once shared to be theirs once again.
This was her hope, her dream, for then her village would never need to worry about survival—the Legend would forever protect them. If she had spoken of this to anyone they would have thought her foolish, for they would have insisted there was no way Kilkern land could belong to the Legend.
But then no one in the village would have believed that the Legend would have agreed to help her. Yet here she was returning to the village on a mare he had given her, a part of his legion.
Her being in service to him partly united him with her village. Marriage, however, was the only way to permanently keep her village under his protection, and who better to marry him than Brigid? She was beautiful, and he, handsome. They would have fine children and Brigid would be happy, having a home and a husband once again.
The thought had been a seed, restless in her mind, that had suddenly sprouted and flourished. With the two wed it would mean that she would not be alone in her service to the Legend. Her friend would always be near and then she could remain in his legion when her debt to him was fulfilled. And she would always have her best friend close by and well protected.
They stopped for a brief repose, though many of the men remained on guard around the group. Thirst and hunger were quenched, conversation punctuated with laughter—a common sound.
Reena sat alone, braced against a decaying stump, munching on an apple. She enjoyed the sights and sounds in front of her, for they reminded her of how her village had once been and how it would soon be again. In time she would get to know these people and make friends, but for now she preferred to watch and learn and, of course, sketch the sights in her mind.