Stone Heart (23 page)

No one told her about the women who would desire Angus as the warrior he obviously was. And Amber was far too lovely for a man with Angus' virility to resist. Karen tried telling herself to be happy for him.

She spent the rest of the day and into the evening working furiously. One of the most recent files dealt with Angus and needed to be copied onto a disc. She opened it and began to read. What it contained was the most horrific account she could imagine. It detailed the many men he'd killed, the crops destroyed and the women who had been used. Several children had been attributed to him, all of which had subsequently died during birth or shortly thereafter. Some of the village girls had been disowned by their families for carrying a child outside of wedlock. Roaming the countryside without proper nourishment had probably contributed to some 202

Stone Heart

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of the their deaths and those of their infants. The story related how some of the women had approached Angus for help only to be physically or verbally abused and turned aside. One girl, Bridget, had taken her own life. Some of the others had simply disappeared. While it was thought he had killed them, no one knew for sure as he had gone missing.

Apparently, that was when the Sorceress saw fit to punish him. Karen couldn't blame the woman for her judgement of Angus.
If
what had happened was true. But the man she knew could not have committed the crimes in the file. He wasn't capable of such devastation.

"You are working too hard."

She looked up to find the subject of her thoughts standing in the doorway.

The moment Angus saw her face, he knew she aware of everything. She gazed at him as though she had never seen him before, as though she was assessing him as a threat.

"So, the truth comes out."

"I've been reading," she spoke softly.

"From that box?"

She nodded. "This is a computer. There's just about any kind of information in here a person could want. I told you about that, remember?"

"Aye. And some information you would rather not know?"

he asked in a soft voice.

She simply nodded.

"What do you want to know, Karen? Ask
me
. No' that machine."

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She slowly stood and pointed at the screen. "Tell me this isn't true and I'll believe you. Just say the words."

He strode to where he could see the print on the screen. "I canna read verra' well, so you will have to tell me what the words say. I ken they relay the truth, lass."

"Those things aren't true. You didn't do them, Angus. You didn't kill the women you slept with. Someone believed you may have after you and some of the women disappeared from the village."

His gaze met hers. "That 'twould be correct, Karen. I dinna' kill those lasses. But aside from that, whoever wrote what is in your computer most likely got the main parts right.

I've tried to explain to you time and again why I was punished."

"The Sorceress who cast the spell upon you wrote what happened. Someone
else
copied that information into the computer so it wouldn't be lost. I was hoping the information had been incorrectly interpreted. If it wasn't, knowing what I do about your culture I don't understand why the Sorceress back then didn't kill you. There were all kinds of foul things attributed to you. A girl named Bridget even killed herself because of how you treated her. Do you remember that?"

The pain of that knowledge cut him in two. Though he knew he deserved it, hearing Karen's condemning voice produced a deep wound to his heart. "I have wanted to die because of my deeds. Many times. But I dinna' know Bridget killed herself and I have long wondered what became of her.

She is one reason I wanted to see if people from the past, those no' of the Order, could be traced." For a very long time 204

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Karen didn't speak and Angus thought she wouldn't. "You hate me and I canna' blame you."

"I don't understand you." She turned her back to him as she spoke. "No matter what I imagined, I would never have attributed these things to the man I know. Why did so many die, Angus? Why?"

"If you want me to give you excuses, there are none. Not then and not now. My actions were the product of hate." He paused as memories overwhelmed him. "Do you think, for three hundred years, I dinna' agonize over the children I seeded? Sometimes I did hear women weeping over the graves of children. From the responses of the mourners, some of those bairns would be missed. Others would be treated as one less mouth to feed. I heard grave diggers make comments about some of the bastard children they buried. But no one was there to weep for
those
babes. The men threw dirt upon their wee bodies, laughed and drank.

Some did worse to the little ones. I could hear them ... hear their coarse remarks."

"Angus, stop." Karen put up her hands to halt his words.

But he continued.

"Sometimes they even took these unloved babes from their coffins and used the boxes for other children. Children whose parents could afford to pay for the wood. And every time one of those fatherless children was buried, I imagined it was mine." He covered his face with his hands, then slowly lowered them. The memories of those abhorrent burials weighed upon him.

"Angus..."

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"Unwed girls who lay with men and died were treated in much the same way. They would be buried in the ground and no marker would have been placed. Those burying them would often slake lusts with the bodies first. The women might have died of disease or for the want of a loaf of bread.

I remember much would be offered to a man to stave off hunger for another day. Then there were the babes and women who died because I took away their men. They had no one to care for them, their fields or livestock. I once knocked a boy to the ground because he was lame and could no' move out of my way quickly enough."

He spoke as if he were in some kind of trance. She watched him gaze into the distance as though he were back in that time. Remembering. Tears fell from his horror-filled eyes.

"Karen, someone as good and kind as you could ne'er cause so much grief if you lived a thousand lifetimes," he murmured. "I did it in a few short years. Even little Elspeth's family might have been victims of my hate and temper. That sweet child ... She did nothing but care for me."

"Stop it! It was a long time ago, Angus. I have no right to judge you. No right." She rushed forward to hold him. He fell to his knees before her and buried his head against her shoulder. "Shhhh, Angus, hush."

She stroked his hair and held him for a long time. He made no sound, but he trembled as he clung to her. She crooned stupid, senseless things her aunt had said to her when she was a child and had been very afraid. For the first time in her life since Aggie died, someone desperately needed
her
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comforting. Discounting the fact she had uttered a silly poem to set him free, Angus needed someone to help him live with what he had done. Given what he was remembering, it could take a lifetime. She didn't have a lifetime to give.

"Angus, listen to me." She held him close. "I've told you this before. You
must
listen. There isn't one damned thing anyone can do about the past, but there are things you can do now to help your people. I've read a great deal about some of the problems they've been having. And one of the things they seem to worry about right now is your power."

"They fear me?" he asked, his face still nuzzled against her shoulder.

She nodded. "Shayla's been communicating with Druids in England, Ireland and Scotland. I'm not sure if she realizes I'm able to get to get into those files. But it seems that your size has something to do with her fears."

He raised his head slightly. "'Tis natural I would be seen as a problem because of my past actions."

"But what has your size got to do with anything?"

He looked at her and shrugged. "Larger size means more power. Have you no' seen the size of most of the men here?

Have you no' noticed I am measurably larger?"

"Pluck isn't big." She smiled at him in an attempt to illicit a similar response, but he didn't smile back.

"I was speaking of the Druids, Fairies and Goblins. And Pluck
is
large for an Elf. And you'd be surprised at the power Elves wield at any size."

"Then we're just going to have to prove you aren't the horrible man who was cursed all those years ago. Because 207

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you're
not
. That was another Angus.
My
Angus isn't like that.

He's sweet and kind and does nothing more threatening than eat too many hamburgers."

"I am
your Angus
?" he asked, gazing into her blue eyes.

She grinned and hugged him again when she saw the ghost of a smile touch his full lips. "I found you. That makes you mine. And I'm sorry I judged you, Angus. Please, forgive me?"

When he turned his head to speak, her lips were only a breath away. "There is nothing to forgive. You judged that other man rightly. I will do whatever it takes to earn trust and keep it. And I dunna' want anyone in the Order fearing me.

Those who fear a man will no' befriend him. I am in need of many friends."

"I trust you and I'm your friend, Angus. I'll
always
be your friend. We're like family, remember? We made a pact." She placed her hands on either side of his face and kissed one cheek.

He knew, in that instant, he would do anything to make her happy. Whatever deity had bestowed this sweet woman upon him would have his gratitude forever. He hurt so much inside. The past would always be there. But a few people had seen something within him worthy of salvage. Elspeth had been one; Karen was another. And the Sorceress herself seemed willing, even though she feared his power, to give him a chance. One chance was all he needed. He swore no one would ever have cause to regret his being here. No matter what it took, his time would be spent helping others 208

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the way he had
been
helped. He would follow the most sacred creed of the Order.
Do as you will ... harm none
.

* * * *

"Karen and I had much to say to one another," Angus responded with a shrug. He slowly turned away from the garden view to properly address the Sorceress.

"She worked very hard, too. Is she feeling well?"

Angus nodded. She had gone to bed very drained, insisting on finishing their conversation first. "She learned the whole truth about what I've done. Just, I'm sure, as you intended."

"And that bothers you?" Shayla watched him closely.

"I was afraid I would lose her. But now that she knows the whole truth, I am relieved."

Shayla moved to stand beside him. Moonlight flooded the garden and they had a beautiful view from the balcony where they stood. "She still sees you as her friend?"

"Aye. Such a man as I does no' deserve her. She is everything that is good," his voice softened.

"And how do you feel about the rest of us?"

"I have come here to become a part of the Order and to use my powers to protect it. I will never raise my hand against you or the others, Sorceress. No' unless you order me to do so. The man of three centuries ago is dead. He died, piece by piece, every time he harmed another."

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She studied him for a moment. "From the moment we met, I sensed deep pain within you, Angus. But I need to make very sure about your heart. You truly regret your past?"

"I regret the lives I wasted, including my own. I can never purchase that time back. But I can make use of that which is left to me. Give me some task, lady. Let me prove my worth and earn some measure of dignity and honor. Let me garner a bit more of that trust which has been warily given, and I will earn every bit of the rest with every drop of blood in my body. This I swear."

She patted him on the shoulder and draped her arm around his back. "Do you know what Gryphon said about you this afternoon?" He looked at her and she said, "He says you're the finest swordsmen he has ever seen. We still use those weapons today, you know. They're silent, deadly and very difficult for the authorities to trace."

"I had believed there was more sophisticated weaponry. If the old armament benefits those who dwell here, then such weaponry is appropriate. And I am pleased O'Connor thought well of my swordsmanship. He is a good man and I would value his friendship."

"That's easy. To have a friend, be one. And as far as the weapons are concerned, sometimes the old ways are best.

We've even found ways of making money by having our people sell armor to collectors. But finding someone who knows about the more obscure fighting techniques is difficult."

"I lived life with the old ways of defense. If you would allow me, I could help your people train in these techniques."

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"I was hoping you'd volunteer. Our younger members seem to believe we can't defend ourselves without outsider weapons. But guns are loud and draw too much attention. It is too easy to kill with them, as the world well knows."

"There are times, when I was stone, that I heard weapons being fired. I came to know of them from listening to others speak. There are more silent ways to adequately defend oneself."

"Good, you have the right idea. Gryphon and Lore can help you set up some kind of training schedule. If you need anything, ask."

"There is only one thing I would ask of you, Sorceress. A favor."

She noted the pain on his face. "Go on."

"Tonight ... Karen ... I canna' say it." He shook his head and walked a few steps toward the balcony. His fingers curled around the white marble rail and gripped it hard.