Daughter of Darkness & Light Page 3

  “Alistair—”

  He raised a hand and said softly, “Please.”

  She nodded, confused, but whatever he was saying either confused him as well or pained him, and she did not want to add to his discomfort.

  And still, she smiled suddenly.

  The sword coming from the water—the Lady in the Lake? Could she be...

  “Am I the child of a king?” she asked.

  He smiled in return and shook his head. “No, I am afraid not.”

  “Oh.”

  But something—some magical something—in the lake had turned her fish into a sword. And the Lady of the Lake had taken Excalibur. So...

  “A sorcerer.”

  “Alistair, pardon—”

  “Mordred was a warrior; he was the son of Morgana. He was also a sorcerer, as was his mother.”

  “And—”

  “I believe you are his child.”

  She jumped up, horrified.

  “No! No, no, please! Alistair, I—no! Mordred was despicable, possibly born of the greatest sin. He was horrible and he destroyed all that was beautiful and good.”

  “Ah, my child, no one man—or woman--does that on his or her own. Camelot fell for the sins of many.”

  “You do not know this; you cannot know this!” she cried. “An old man with a long beard came to you. Mordred did not live to be an old man with a beard—”

  “Kyleigh, daughter of my heart, please. I tell you this only because you may well be our salvation! Today I saw what no man usually sees! There was magic.” He hesitated. “If you are the child of Mordred, you are also the grandchild of Arthur. Not the child of a king, but rather the grandchild. The water—the lake—I saw no lady reaching out to hand you that sword, but the elements came together. There is something in you, Kyleigh. I do not believe anyone here realized what was happening, that it was caused by you. I fear for you, what you seem to hold is a power many others may envy or fear in turn. I cannot ask you—nor would I ask you—not to explore this power. But you must be careful. So careful. People always fear what they do not understand. Many would want you dead.”

  She stared at him blankly and then winced. When she spoke, however, it was with decided determination.

  “I am not the child of Mordred!”

  Alistair looked away. “It was rumored before the battle in which our great king fell, Mordred had a child, and that child’s mother was a sorceress as well. I believe it was Merlin who came to me with you. He left; he was offered places with others. Some say Morgana imprisoned him in crystal in a cave; others say he roams the forests.”

  “A very, very old man,” she said dryly.

  Alistair shrugged. “Merlin was a man of flesh, and yet not of flesh. Perhaps he is out there. He loved Morgana himself until he saw there was nothing but hatred and evil in her heart. It was he who spirited Arthur away as an infant lest he be used for any evil. And I believe it was he who found you and saw to it you were taken away as well from those who would use your strange power for evil purposes.” He paused, frowning. “Where is the sword now?” he asked.

  “Just inside the cottage. I—I did not think it should be with me...on my person. And I wanted to help with the wounded, and I was going to help with them again. That is what I should be doing. Alistair, you have been kinder to me than many a natural father, but I cannot and will not accept this! Mordred! No, I will not be the child of such a monster—”

  “No. You will not. You smile at the old gods and accept the pagan ways, and you listen to Father Peter and—” He paused to smile. “And you loved the stories about Christ and how He cared for little children and healed the sick and asked us to love one another.”

  She nodded and asked him, “How do we love enemies who would slaughter us where we stand, doing nothing but working the land?” she asked in a whisper.

  “We do not let them slaughter us. We think as Christ did on the cross; they know not what they do. We defend the innocent, my daughter, and that you did beautifully with love in your heart.”

  “What if I am vicious, evil, and cruel?” she whispered.

  He could not be right; he could not be. She had heard stories that no man was perfect; good men did bad things, just as a bad man was capable of a bad deed. But Mordred was a monster in every way and she was afraid, so afraid, that if his blood ran in her veins...

  It did not! Could not!

  “You are my child...my child and Mary’s,” he said. “You have seen the beauty of peace in this village, of scattered peoples coming together to create homes and families. You have worked for those who cannot.” He gave her a smile. “None is better at catching fish in the lake!”

  Or seeing a fish turn into a sword! She thought.

  But she had seen it. And if legend held truth, Uther had slept with Igraine, and together they had Arthur. But rumor was that Morgana tricked Arthur as Uther had tricked her mother, sleeping with her half-brother and conceiving Mordred. And as Mordred grew, Morgana taught him to hate Arthur and to raise an army against him.

  She lowered her head. She did not want it to be true.

  “Dear child, there is nothing to fear. You are not evil; you are the epitome of kindness. I do swear it on the new, one and only God, and the gods we knew of old. A man is not born to be his father, nor a woman to be her mother, nor is any child born with evil in their soul. Evil is taught, just as goodness is taught. I did not speak with you today to cause you pain, rather to let you know there is something you may call upon within you.” It wasn’t like Alistair to hesitate and yet he paused again. “The enemy will come back. I saw their leader; he sat atop a huge horse and watched with fury as his men were beaten. He called the retreat when this small skirmish might still have been won, and I believe it is because he did not want to lose more men. This village has nothing. The fortress at Kenzie has a great library. It was built by the Romans; and through the years since they left, the lords of Kenzie have labored to keep it strong. There are many treasures there, gold and silver, fine jewelry from the many places the empire of the Romans once stretched, and fine, delicate work created by our own people, too, or the complexity of our people. He will want to sack the fortress. And if he has the power to take down Lord Kenzie and his men, he will be back.”

  “I do not know what I am doing,” she whispered. “I thought we would both die, but I could not just stand there. I thought I would do battle with a fish.”

  “You will find your way,” he told her.

  She swirled around as the rustle of a leaf startled her.

  It was Gareth, hurrying toward them from the forest trail that led back to the village. He appeared anxious to reach them. He was nineteen, Kyleigh’s own age, and they had long been friends.

  Many people thought they should marry. Indeed, many people thought she should have been married to someone by now. They shook their heads over the fact that Alistair did not push the matter. But Kyleigh had not found a reason to marry; she liked the freedom of the little time she had when not working. She loved learning from Father Peter when he had time. One day, perhaps, she would marry Gareth, because it seemed that people should marry.

  Slim but with strong muscle, he kept his beard shaved because he said it hampered his speed; and his hair, a thick brown like the bark of a tree, was cropped to his neck. Many men had long hair, but others preferred to keep it short. For Gareth, chopping off his dark locks meant they were out of his way, he had told her.

  “Gareth! You were following the invaders—” Alistair said, frowning.

  “Alistair, I did as I was asked. I followed them and saw they were indeed moving onward to attack at Kenzie. They were met by Lord Kenzie himself and his knights. The archers maneuvered splendidly! And Lord Kenzie sent word; we are to come by the river, round-about and far from the forest. He will send men out to meet us. He believes the invaders will again attack the fortress, fail, and come back here. He wishes to protect the people. I did as I was bid, Alistair. I would not betray those I love.”


  Their village did not have a leader. If they owed fealty to anyone, it would be Lord Kenzie; but as the world had come to be, he asked nothing of them.

  And neither had he protected them! She thought.

  To be fair, he could not have known the enemy was upon them. The village lay to the south, below what should have been the track of the invaders from the west and his fortress, farther to the east and north.

  They had all heard the rumors. None here had believed they would come so far, that the small village, hidden behind the dense forest, could be in danger.

  “Now he wishes to protect us,” Kyleigh murmured.

  Alistair arched a brow but smiled as he said, “I said you were kind, did I not? But I did not say you did not have a sharp tongue on you when you choose to offer a thought!” he said.

  Gareth grinned. “Aye, the lass speaks when she chooses. Kyleigh!” he said excitedly. “A few from our village made it to Kenzie before the attack there. Someone believes you are a great warrior! Lord Kenzie has said he wishes to see you.”

  She frowned and turned to Alistair.

  “But...”

  For a moment, she hesitated. Then she shook her head and stood tall. “I am not a great warrior; I did as the rest of us. I defended myself and our people.”

  “I saw you myself!” Gareth said. “Ah, Kyleigh, you were fierce!”

  “We were under attack,” she said.

  “Kyleigh! This is an honor. Lord Kenzie wishes to meet you!” Gareth said.

  “Fine. I shall meet him.”

  “It is a great honor.”

  “Ah, well, it is the great lords and knights and their battles for riches that bleed the land,” she said.

  “Kyleigh, take care,” Alistair said.

  “Forgive me; he has taken no interest in us. Why would I bow down before him?” she asked Alistair.

  Alistair looked angry. “Rowan, Lord Kenzie is a fine man. His father before him was a fine man. Before, we owed the lords in their castles the work of our fields. Rowan of Kenzie asks nothing of us; he has vast lands of his own. He has gone out with those who work the fields. He has gotten his hands dirty in the earth and stone to build. He will protect those in his fold; and despite our somewhat wild ways here, child, he has protected us. He welcomes Father Peter, and he sends cloth and other goods for those in the village who are old. He is a good man. He does not seek war; but when the enemy arrives on his ground, he will engage. Gareth, you have said there is a plan. But what of our wounded?”

  “We will help them,” Gareth said. “And he is sending men to help us along the river.”

  “What of the invaders?”

  “They have fled to the forest. Lord Kenzie has those who slip into the woods and watch the enemy as well. They are regrouping to lay siege to the fortress. The men and women in the surrounding farms are hurrying to the fortress for shelter. They know the way through the back by the river. The enemy think they will starve Lord Kenzie out; they will not. They do not realize he knows the land on which that fortress sits like no other, or that his father fought with the great King Arthur! The invaders think they will ram the great gate. They do not know what waits for them. He has asked that we hurry. I have told the other elders in the village; they are gathering what little they can.”

  “We have so many injured...and our dead! We must bury the dead,” Kyleigh said. “If they’re going to lay siege to the fortress, we have time—”

  “Kyleigh, we must find protection at the fortress. We cannot endure the kind of army this man has forever. He left here to attack the fortress at Kenzie. If he wins that battle, he will have a greater supply of arms; and he will force some to take up arms for him—or lose their heads. If he fails, he will be bitter; and we will not withstand the onslaught. Even with a magical sword,” Alistair said firmly.

  “A magical sword!” Gareth said. “You have a magical sword?”

  “I have a sword. When I manage to be efficient with it, yes, it is magical,” Kyleigh murmured worriedly, looking at Alastair.

  She realized he had not meant to mention the sword.

  “Even if we had magical weapons,” Alistair said quickly, “we must get back. We must prepare everyone to get down to the river and to the fortress.”

  Alistair walked ahead. Kyleigh rose to follow him. Gareth caught her by the sleeve, gently holding her back.

  “Kyleigh,” he said, “I will never betray you. I have always known you were magical.”

  She remained passive, frowning slightly. Gareth liked her. She knew that. She liked him, and she was sure those around them would think they would make a fine married couple. But as much as she cared about him, she did not want to be his wife. She was not sure she ever wanted to be any man’s wife.

  Was he speaking as he was because he cared about her, or because he had seen the way she was wielding the sword, seen it move with her hand barely upon it?

  “Your eyes,” he told her. “That shade of an emerald.” He smiled awkwardly. “I saw one just once, worn by a fine lady at the market at Kenzie. It was years ago, but when I saw it, I thought that color was just like your eyes.”

  “That is kind of you, Gareth—"

  “I thought you might be a forest nymph.”

  She was wrong; he was talking about magic. Real magic. The kind that sorcerers like Merlin might have used.

  Or even an evil sorcerer, like Mordred or Morgana.

  “No, Gareth—”

  “Your secret is safe with me,” he said sincerely. “But others will have seen your actions in that fray, and they will suspect and...I fear you will have to show it soon enough.”

  He looked at her with a weak smile of encouragement and he hurried ahead of her then to catch up with Alistair.

  ***

  Before the Romans had come, most people in Britain had lived in timber and thatch roundhouses. Many areas of the countryside with small villages still had such homes. But when they had come to Kenzie, the Romans had taken leave from their usual rectangular design and had created something quite different, a fortress in the shape of an octagon, built strong and sturdy from stone. There were eight guard towers, and from them guards could see across the river and down the length of it with fine vision to warn of any assault from north or south along it. Other towers allowed a bird’s view to the forest; any attackers had a wide expanse of open land to travel before reaching the fortress. When they reached it, there was a moat, one that fed into the river. They had built a fine wall with an entrance from the river through a narrow bridge that could only be lowered or raised from within. Within the fortress walls, there was a main tower with a great hall, and that was where Rowan had his rooms, and where he met with his men.

  Rowan had loved the stories of Arthur, and his father had served Arthur.

  The great hall offered a round table where those who served him met.

  Within the great surrounding walls, the Romans had built many structures to accommodate their people and needs as customary. There was a granary, a barracks, a hospital for their wounded or ill, workshops, and even a bath house. For the Romans, the bath house had been a social meeting place; they had exercised; they had slaves to cover their bodies in oil.

  There were no slaves here now. But the bath house remained, and they created a water system beneath it that could be heated, and that remained as well. It was an intriguing item to many who visited Kenzie.

  But the bath house was not important, not with what they were facing. The defenses the fortress offered mattered, and he could thank the Roman rule for their work in stone.

  The Roman fortresses built in the square custom had four entrances.

  Kenzie had just two.

  Rowan wondered if the Saxon leader knew about the second river entrance. He felt certain, because of the way the Saxon had come through the countryside, he must be familiar with the area.

  Guards could watch from the tower areas, assessing any danger from the river. The river was not the greatest danger. From wha
t his scouts had told him, the invaders had not come with boats, rather with siege machines. He had come with catapults, ready to rain fire down on the inhabitants of the fortress.

  Those machines must be destroyed. Rowan had little on his mind but defense as he headed to the great hall in the main tower.

  The woman who had fled from the Village of the Lake was to be brought to Rowan there.

  He had been on the wall surveying the field, the forest, and what an enemy would see here—and how that enemy would attack. But it was important he see this woman and learn everything she might know. A few other others had made it in from the village and scattered farms in that area, but she was the one to have seen the assault of the enemy, and the way that it had been repelled.

  She was young, slim, and fragile, and shaking still when she came to him. He could see she had been crying. She was probably attractive when her face was not so tear-stained.

  Her name, he was told, was Aileen.

  “You are safe here,” he said first, having her sit in one of the chairs before the great hearth in the hall.

  “None are safe from them!” she said, shaking her head. “He...intends to kill us all, and I—my mother was Saxon! How does he kill his own people?”

  “Those who would conquer are often ruthless,” Rowan said gently. “I need you to please, tell me all you know about them.”

  “They came into the village first on horseback. Our men rushed to gather what weapons they could; they sent mothers and children into the forest, but all could not flee fast enough. I was to watch over some of the children, but Mary came after me and urged me here.” She paused, wincing. “She thought all might die, but you are a good man, and when you knew what had happened, you would come for the children we had hidden.”

  “Thank you. You did not witness any of the fight?”

  “I did, my lord. Just before I fled, Alistair came back with his daughter, Kyleigh, and when they returned from the lake...something changed. I was not sure; I was still terrified. But I believe the invaders suddenly fell back, disappearing in this direction, north and east, and...” She paused again, closing her eyes, swallowing hard. “They were just a portion of the fighting men; I believe the main body of this man’s army was to come at Kenzie. But they never intended to lose so many men. That is what I believe. Of course, I do not know what happened after I saw my way clear to escape—to run here. And I was grateful to God, sire, because the men in the village...they could still be bested. It is better they come here; you are better able to fight than the poor farmers in the village. I feel...well, I am originally from a small fortress north of Tintagel. My father was a knight and knew King Arthur. My husband was a knight, but there was an attack and both were killed and...I could no longer stay where I was.”