Shadows of Darkness
an excerpt

Chapter 1

The darkness, a normal occurrence, was a haven he sought. The fingers massaging the muscles of his knee were felt more than seen. Dacien Lugh MacEthnenn took a long pull from the goblet, placed on the table before him. He tilted his head back, and relished the releasing of tension from the strain of too long a horse ride that day. Near dozing, he started awake when the fingers went exploring further that the surrounding knee. They had crept up his thigh, circling, searching.

His calloused hand clamped down on her fragile wrist, and she squeaked her surprise at finding him still awake. “Enough. Tis grateful I am, lass. Not this time.”

She sniffed, but left him to his silence.

He sat in the near darkness, but for the glow of the fading embers of the fireplace. The long, lonely dining table stretched before him. He lifted the goblet again, draining it. He swiped his mouth with the back of his hand. A large sigh escaped and his shoulder drooped. The muscles in his leg still throbbed, but he wouldn’t call her back.

He rubbed between his eyes, trying to ease the pounding in his head. A rustle beside him told him another had come to refill his goblet. Through lowered eyelids, he watched the delicate hand pour the dark liquid. She handed the goblet to him, moving closer, her fingers caressing him, suggestively. Her skirt brushed his leg.

He tilted his head and dark brooding eyes racked over her curvaceous body. “You wish to leave?”

She shook her head, “Nay. Lord, please, no.”

She stepped closer, and her thigh brushed his arm. He hissed at the contact, but she didn’t back away. “You will leave me in peace, wench, unless you do in fact wish to be found a new residence. Your choice.”

“My lord,” she whispered as her finders trailed up his arm to rest on his shoulder.

His eyes glowed at the contact, but she failed to heed the warning signs.

“I can ease your discomfort.” She reached her hand down to run across the front of his open shirt. Then slipped inside, scratching nails across his skin.

He stopped her hand. She knelt before him. He sighed. “Your name?”

“Shalana, lord.” She leaned into him, pressed her breasts against his arm. The material drew tight, almost spilling out for him to view. “I can see to your needs.”

“Pour me more drink. We will talk.”

She stood, but pouted as she reached for the pitcher.

“Shalana, you are the one with needs, and . .”

“Aye.” She interrupted him, and began to lift her skirts.

“Wait. It will not be me to meet your desires. I will begin a search and find you a protector. He will attend to you.” He lifted his cup and motioned her away.

She waited.

“Begone, before my will turns to lost patience.”

She sniffed, but he didn’t look at her. She gathered up the empty pitcher and left the room in a huff. It was always this way. He breathed a sigh of relief. A woman’s body kept away the encroaching shadows within so fleeting. It wasn’t worth the complications that followed. Nor the repercussions.

Unconsciously, he reached for the amulet at his neck, and drew it back and forth across his lips. With a flick of his other hand, the fire in the grate came to life, but it didn’t dispel the darkness spreading across his soul.

He closed his eyes and dwelt deep within himself, calling upon the Infinite Source.

I can no longer go on like this. I wish to move on to the next plane of existence. My abilities serve no purpose here. No change is noticed. What morals I have are slowly eroding. Any more, I wish for their destruction, as well as the villagers.

He waited, listening.

Agreed. I will accomplish this one last deed for their drunken brawl called Octoberfest, and then will expect to move on.

He became aware of his surroundings again, reached for the goblet and drained it. He felt the stirrings of unease settle in his belly. That was far too easy.