“I am Darkfest, master of fire and flame, Spirit of evil, depart in my name.”
He felt the fever leave the woman, felt it burn through his hands, felt the weakness that had engulfed her as the sickness left her body and entered his, to be devoured by his strength.
He took a deep breath, exhaled it in a long slow sigh as he removed his hands from the woman. “‘Tis done.”
Channa Leigh stared at him through sightless eyes. “She’s healed?” A wealth of hope lay in those two words.
“Aye. She will sleep through the night and when she wakes on the morrow, she will be well.”
Tears sparkled in Channa Leigh’s eyes. “Thank ye, my lord,” she whispered tremulously.
“I have done my part.” He clenched his hands at his sides, wondering if she would keep her word. Wondering what he would do if she did not. Did she but realize the power she held over him, she could have easily refused without fear of retribution. But she did not know. “Will ye now do yers?” he asked, and waited, hardly daring to breathe, for her answer.
“Aye, my lord,” she said tremulously. “I will come to ye whenever ye say.”
“Tomorrow morn.”
She crossed her arms over her breasts, a shiver of unease shaking her slight shoulders. “As ye will.”
“Exactly as I will,” he said curtly, and left the room in search of her father.
Dugald was standing near the hearth, head hanging, eyes closed. He looked up, a glimmer of hope in his deep-set eyes, as the wizard entered the room.
“‘Tis done,” Darkfest said.
“Ye give me my wife, and take my daughter,” Dugald said bitterly. He took a deep breath, and only his love for his offspring gave him courage to speak. “What will ye do with her, with my Channa Leigh?”
“Whatever pleases me, old man.”
Dugald’s eyes widened in horror as he imagined his only child at the mercy of the wizard’s every whim. “She is but a child, innocent in the ways of men.”
“She is no longer yer concern.”
“Ye will not...harm her?”
“I shall expect her on the morrow.” Darkfest rose to his full height. “Do not think to betray our bargain, Dugald,” he warned, his voice like frost on a winter’s morn, “lest a worse fate befall yer woman.”
“She will be there,” Dugald vowed, his voice hoarse. “On the morrow.”
Darkfest nodded once, and then he was gone.
~ * ~
Channa Leigh sat at her mother’s bedside all through the night, her thoughts in turmoil as she tried to control the fear that engulfed her. All her life, she had heard tales of the master of Darkfest Castle. He was feared by all, for his powers were legendary. Some said he was the spawn of the Dark One. Some said hewasthe Dark One.
Why did he want her?
What would he do to her, with her?
Would she be enslaved in his castle, forced to serve fulfill his every desire?
Growing up, she had heard many tales of the Wizard, each more frightening than the last. Shuddering, she wrapped her arms tightly around her waist. It was said he drank the blood of children, that he sacrificed virgins to his Master. Was she, then, to be the next sacrifice? Her mouth went dry at the thought. Butno. He had promised to return her to her home the following winter. And yet, of what value was the word of a man who served the Dark One?
Slipping from her chair, she knelt at her mother’s bedside and prayed for the courage to fulfill her promise, for the strength to withstand whatever evil awaited her at the wizard’s hands.
~ * ~
He did not sleep that night, but spent the dark empty hours till dawn pacing from one end of his dreary castle to the other. Soon. Soon, she would be here. What madness had made him demand Channa Leigh in payment? What was he to do with a blind girl? How could he endure her nearness day after day? Hear her voice, see her face, and know she was there only because of a vow made in exchange for her mother’s life?
