She barely had given Reena a hug when Decimus appeared and grabbed her arm.
“We leave now.”
With a tug and a push she was deposited in the coach, and before she realized she had not bid Magnus goodbye the coach took off. This was not how she expected her departure to be. She wanted time to thank everyone for their generosity and support and to urge them to stay in touch with her so that Decimus could not fully isolate her from the world.
Decimus sat quietly alongside her, looking deep in thought as the coach traveled with haste along a rutted path. She was jostled and jarred and wondered how Decimus could appear undisturbed by their bumpy ride.
He remained silent, revealing nothing of their destination to her. And after almost an hour of silence she could stand it no more.
“Where do we go, my lord?”
He turned his head slowly toward her. “That is not your concern.”
She remained silent knowing full well he would only remind her that she was not to speak unless spoken to. She allowed her own thoughts to keep her company. She hoped that it would take until daybreak to reach their destination, then fatigue would surely force him to seek sleep and not her.
Hours passed by and she grew tired, her head bobbing until finally she tucked herself into the corner of the coach and drifted off to sleep.
She did not know how long she had slept when Decimus woke her with a start.
“We are here, Mary, wake up.”
He sounded annoyed and she wondered who would suffer his wrath this evening. Something important was obviously on his mind, and whatever it was it did not sit well with him.
Decimus exited the coach first and assisted her as she stepped out. Her eyes rounded at the sight of the looming fortress in front of her. It was large, the stones dark, and the many torches glared like the eyes of a hundred demons.
She shivered and instinctively stepped closer to Decimus. Surprisingly he placed his arm around her, but then it was his duty to protect her and he would do right by his husbandly duties.
She could not help but ask, “What is this place?”
“Hell,” he whispered harshly.
Her eyes rounded like bright full moons and, as they entered the ominous structure, a chill ran down her spine. He had confirmed her worst fear. She had just stepped through the gates of hell.
Mary huddled closer to her husband’s side when she thought she heard a horrifying cry. “What is that?”
His arm tightened around her. “It is none of your concern.”
There were warriors everywhere in the great hall and the few who looked to be servants appeared fearful and cautious in their manners. It seemed like a lot of activity for so late in the evening.
A large man approached Decimus. He wore a leather apron, his head was bald and his face scarred. “My lord, they await you.”
“Did you heed my warning, Edmond?”
The man dropped his glance to the ground. “I thought only to please you, my lord. I started on the woman.”
Mary’s stomach rolled, realizing this man tortured an innocent.
“My orders, Edmond?” Decimus asked with an anger that had the large man trembling.
“To wait upon you, my lord.”
Mary trembled when she realized she was in the Fortress of Hell, temporary home to Decimus, and a place where heretics met their fate. She had heard tales about it and thought them just that. She did not think such an evil place could truly exist, but now she knew it did. Its true name was the Fortress of Redemption, but no one was ever released from the fortress; once inside you were doomed, and redemption only came with death.
“An order you failed to obey.”
“I—I—but meant—”
“Be gone from my sight. I will deal with you later.”
Before anyone else could approach him, he turned with Mary firm in his arms and hurried her to climb the stairs until she thought them at the very top of the structure. They entered a room sparse with furnishings and few candles, though a fire burned bright in the large fireplace.
Mary hurried to the flames to warm her hands and ease her concern. “Are we to live here?”
He shook his head. “This will not be our home. This is a place where pagans and sinners meet their punishment and fate. I will not have my wife subjected to such vile matters.”
Her shoulders slumped in relief, but only for a moment. Decimus pulled his tunic and shirt off and she thought he readied himself for bed and their union.
Her eyes locked on his naked chest and then his broad back as he turned away from her. He was built magnificently, his body a work of art, tapering and expanding in perfect symmetry and strength. He was powerful in muscle and form and that made Mary all the more nervous.
She remained by the fire, rubbing together hands that insisted on remaining chilled. How would she ever get through this night? Was it too late to feign an illness?
Decimus opened a chest near the window and took out a black shirt and gray tunic. He slipped them on and walked toward her.
“I had hoped to consummate our vows tonight but that is not possible. I have important matters to attend to.”
Mary’s legs trembled when she asked, “You go to torture people?”
He grabbed her chin. “Listen well, wife. You will ask me no questions. I have been tolerant of you thus far, but today it changes. Today you are my wife and will now obey me in all matters. Know your place is not to question me; your place is to serve me.”
He stepped away from her. “Sleep. Tomorrow we seal our vows.”
Mary watched the door close and she dropped to the floor, her trembling legs not able to hold her up a minute longer.
She had wed to the devil and had descended into hell.
Chapter 28
Mary woke feeling unwell the next morning. She could blame it on all the food she had eaten the night before, but her unsettled stomach had plagued her for the last three mornings, dissipating by midday. She had tried to ignore the signs but they had continued, and she now feared she was with child.
It was barely a month and yet signs warned of an impending pregnancy. She rose from bed and was grateful for the dry bread and honey, though ignored the fresh milk. It seemed to upset her stomach even more.
She did not know what to do. If she did not consummate her marriage soon he would never believe the child his. Then she would place Michael’s child at risk. As much as it abhorred her, she would have no choice but to be intimate with Decimus as soon as possible.
She slipped her husband’s dark green velvet robe over her linen nightshift and sat alone at the table near the window, enjoying the bread and honey. It was a dismal day, rain fell heavily, and she was grateful for the blazing fire that combated the chill.
The door suddenly opened and she looked to see her husband striding into the room, wearing the same clothes he had worn the night before. Loud voices, shouts and cries echoed in the hall and down the stairwell behind him, though the sounds turned to muffles as soon as he shut the door.
Decimus walked over to her, his hand reaching out to stroke her face. Mary had to stop herself from recoiling.
“Are you all right? You look pale.”
His concern startled her and the truth worried her. “A fitful night, that is all.”
He nodded, accepting her simple explanation. “Rest today, I have much to see to.”
“May I be of help, my lord?” she asked, hoping to gain valuable information whether for her or Michael.