A Nymph Without Mercy
IV

She accused him ofunkindness when she was the one who would toy with his heart!

He did not know thata girl could cry so prettily. He had seen pillaged villages after the cusp ofwar had ravaged them, and the guttural sobs that the fresh widows had emittedleft them red faced and oozy.

But not the maiden hehad left behind.

He had not even askedher name—she had been forced to supply it in a whisper he had almost ignored.

She was pale andtragic and left him nearly breathless as he witnessed her despair.

And just as oddly, healmost wished he could do something to alleviate her pain.

Garrick had expectedto feel relieved as he mounted his horse and left her there, sobbing as she wasas she knelt against the towering birch, the perfect picture of maidenly piety.

He was never one forempathy. The men he had killed—and a few women too if truth be told—meantlittle to him. None were pure or worthy of his compassion, so it seemed absurdto waste his own emotions by allowing himself to feel for them. Whether they had crossed him due to insult orbecause of some misguided treachery against a king he felt no loyalty to, thecoin was good and the work tested his skill and ingenuity.

And he did so like achallenge.

But as he rodefarther away until he could no longer hear her, he found that he left a pieceof him behind.

Which was absolutelyridiculous.

Garrick was not aromantic man. He had long since given up any idiotic notions of love—beingscorned by every woman he had met made that particular lesson easy to learn,yet no less disheartening.

She called him her bond-mate. She was too practiced, tooperfect for him to be her first victim. She knew just how many tears to letfall to arouse a man’s pity, and enough girlish naivety to make him crave toprotect her. But surely it was all a farce and he was not one to be made afool.

Especially when shetried to convince him that she was in fact the nymph he had called her.

Ridiculous.

So true to form hehad been gruff and surly, even as he firmly tamped down the immediate regretthat followed as her face crumpled from his rejection.

Oh yes, she was verywell versed in the art of manipulating men.

Then why was hetempted to believe her?

A part of him, longburied by the pain and rejection of his own, thought her genuine. It cried outwith abandon that he had left a piece of his very soul at the foot of that wild birch and he was making a dreadfulmistake in leaving her.

He shook away suchthoughts.

She had a family. Shewould explain to them the circumstances of her injury and everything would berighted.

Perhaps if she showedsigns of bruising, of some form of abuse that she suffered at their hands, hewould be more inclined to believe they would spurn her for having been incontact with him. But she was well cared for—better than any princess in any ofthe kingdoms he had visited. The silk alone...

He groaned as herecalled that the softness of the silk dulled in comparison to the small bitsof flesh he had allowed himself to touch. He could tell from her expressionthat he had slighted her when he merely deemed her pretty. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever beheld—buthe would not appeal to her vanity by fawning over her like some love-sick boy.

And so he left.

He left her and hewould silence any protest within his mind by focusing on the task before him.

Monavyn was not alarge kingdom. Its wealth came mostly from the fine wools that were tradedfeely amongst its neighbours. Garrick did not know precisely why he had beencalled to dispense with this particular nobleman. Perhaps he had begun brewingunrest throughout the court, demanding his serfs expand the pasturelands,regardless of whether or not they were his. Perhaps he had encroached too farand the plump and jolly king had done nothing to censure him, so Garrick hadbeen called to right the injustice of those he had wronged.

Garrick did little toquestion the reasoning behind the commission. So often the reason was insipidand stupid, and enquiring only resulted in his further disgust with those whoclaimed the right to rule. But even so, assassination in an abstract manner didsave lives—or at least, whenever Garrick’s conscience was prickled he remindedhimself thusly. Should both kings attempt to reason amongst themselves discordcould be the ultimate result which inevitably led to war. By quickly andquietly dispatching with the offending party, such an event would becircumvented and trade could continue unimpeded.

It mattered little.

But focusing on hischarge steadied him, and it was with renewed purpose that he coaxed his horseback toward Wemble Road.

The sooner he wasaway from the cursed forest, the better.

He could do withoutmeat for a while longer, and he was determined to travel far away from thisplace.

He did not stop for amorning meal, but instead fumbled through the saddlebag until he grasped abiscuit.

His stores were sadlylow, and losing one to the girl had not helped matters.

The feeling of shameat leaving her flared anew, but he ignored it. He did not have much to offerher as it was. He gave her what food he could spare, a strip from his own tunicfor a bandage, and even a handkerchief! Nothing else could possibly be expectedof him.

Some could even havecalled him gallant for his efforts.

He scoffed openly atthat.

Perhaps not gallant.But he had not taken advantage of her vulnerability, nor had he made her suffertoo long in his presence—and certainly that counted for something.

Though he was loathto do it, he raised the faceplate of his helm so he could quickly devour thebiscuit. He would have liked to have taken his time so as to better haveappeased his stomach, but his discomfort at allowing his face to be exposedoverrode any such attempt at gentility.

He shook his headruefully. No one would confuse him with a gentleman.

When he swallowed thelast of the dry biscuit and took a swig of his flask—he most certainly woulddrink spirits in the morning, gentility be damned—he was entirely unpreparedfor his horse to suddenly rear. It was only his experience with the beast thatallowed him to keep his seat, his thighs gripping firmly to keep from flyingonto the ground below.

There was someone inthe road, a bow stretched taut and pointed directly at his heart.

“I shall kill you forwhat you did to her, you filth!”

Conceivably he shouldhave been frightened. The man—though Garrick had to assess him thoroughly tomake such a determination—did indeed appear furious. He was not dressed asother men, and Garrick was vaguely aware that the same unearthly quality thatsurrounded the girl held true to the male before him. His hand did not trembleas it held the arrow steady, all the more concerning that he was perfectlyserious in his declaration.

But fear was far fromhim. His blood sang at the prospect of distraction, the lust for violence—tofeel anger instead of the accursed shame and compassion that the girl inspireda ready consolation.

Garrick dismounted,though he knew his height gave him the advantage should he choose to charge. Aquick slice with his broadsword would have proved sufficient, and he was fairlyconfident he could deflect any attack should the man choose to prove sodiscourteous.

“I regret to informyou that I know not to whom you refer. Have I wronged some lady of youracquaintance?”

The man’s eyesnarrowed in anger. “She was to be mine.We knew each other as seedlings, and you took her from me!”

Seedlings?

Garrick could nothelp but laugh.

“I am not certainwhat pretty games you played as children, but I can assure you I did nothing toany lady. There was indeed a maid that I helped in the woods but I made noclaim on her.”

His fingers twitchedeven as he debated whether or not to draw his sword or make use of the ropehanging from his horse’s side. So many dismissed the object as a lead,obviously ignorant that a well trained beast would not wander from where itsmaster had left it. But so much the better, as few expected it to fly from thesaddle and embrace their necks in a deathly embrace.

For the first timethe man’s anger seemed to bubble into rage, his hands finally tremblingslightly as he drew a hiss of breath. “You did not claim Mairi? You bonded with her!”

Garrick shrugged,even as he ignored the way he relished the confirmation of her name. She haduttered it so lowly before that he had to guess that he had heard correctly—andhe had not been about to ask her to repeat it. “So she also stated. But I madeher no vow so I fail to see the issue.” His head cocked slightly his fingergliding knowingly to the hilt of his blade and drawing it from its sheathquietly. So blinded by his temper the man did not appear to notice. “I take ityou are her lover then. I can assure you, she is relatively unharmed and willbe glad of a familiar face.”

He ignored the achethat accompanied the words, as he absurdly realised he found the idea of herwith this man to be distasteful. He was notjealous.

“She was to be mybond-mate, but you had to interfere!”

Garrick’s patiencewaned. “You so readily make accusations, but I fail to see the injustice. Sheis, as I said, awaiting her family in a small glen not three miles from here.If you would just...”

The man scoffed. “Youare a fool. You would mistake my Mairi for a lowly maiden? She is a nymph, the purest and loveliest of themall. And you ruined her with your touch.”

That was quiteenough. With a large swing of his arm he burst forward, slicing his swordthrough the air as an arrow skilfully shot toward his heart harmlessly fell tothe ground below. Garrick raced forward, his hand clenching around the man’sneck as he pushed him back against a tree. “Yes, I spoiled your maid with my monstrous touch. I keptfrom her dying in the woods alone. Perhaps you should not be so quick to passjudgement.”

The man choked behindhis hand, though to his credit he did not struggle or beg for release. His eyeswere still narrowed, though Garrick could plainly see that his words hadresonated all too strongly.

Good.

He was not solely toblame for the accident.

No clan in their right mind would allow abeauty such as the nymph—Mairi—totraverse the forest alone. Despite his appearance and occupation there were farworse men in the world than he, and he refused to be bullied about.

He was not a boy anylonger.

His grip tightenedslightly. “I do not take kindly to being threatened, even by her kin. She willheal, and she shall return home, and I am certain even, to your bed.”

His heart clenched atthe suggestion, but he fiercely shoved away such weakness. This man had moreclaim on her than he ever would, and that was as it should be.

He would not pretendhe was worthy of her. Already he had stolen too many touches, and her familyhad a right to be angry.

“If I release youwill you swear to leave? Return to her and leave me in peace?”

“You understandnothing! According to nymphlin law she was yours by right and yet you abandonher! You have already proven yourself undeserving. The only way I can hope tofree her from your bond is for you to perish!”

Garrick’s eyesnarrowed. “You are serious. She too tried to weave a fanciful tale of magic andbonding, yet you appear as deluded as she is!”

He would never admitit to this man, but already a niggling of doubt had begun to form in his mind.For one who had suffered an injury to concoct such a tale would not be unheardof, but a grown man to also participate...

No. He was a rationalbeing, and to believe such a fantastical story was lunacy.

“Can you not feelher? Even now. A part of your mind must be aware of her despair, herloneliness. That you alone havecaused. Should you not then sacrifice yourself that she might be free? Free toreturn to her home, to her father, to her tree...”

To me remained unspoken butboth men were fully aware of its presence.

“You would ask me toallow you to kill me,” he sneered. “Have you any certainty that by doing so shewould be accepted back into whatever kingdom you hail from?”

He blanched, and werethose tears in his eyes? “I must try.”

Garrick scoffed. “Youfill me with every confidence. So, you would have me believe that she spoketruly—that she is my bond-mate fromnow until eternity, simply by a brush of my fingers?”

Said fingerstightened around the man’s throat, and he croaked audibly. “Yes.”

He released him.

Perhaps it wasweakness on his part to allow a man to live who openly confessed to wishing forhis demise, but as he stared at the long-haired male he knew that if he everpossessed the love of a beauty such as the one he left behind, he too would doall he could to keep her.

But such was not tobe, no matter what the law stated from whatever civilisation they hailed from.He resolutely refused to entertain the notion that they were from an entirelydifferent race altogether—it was plausible that they were from a secluded landthat practiced such absurd marriage laws that by his offering of aid a poorgirl had become his bride.

That did not mean hehad to participate.

The man—or was he tooa nymph? Garrick could not help butscoff at the very idea—rubbed at his throat, his eyes wary but still tingedwith anger. He watched him carefully, certain that if he reached for anotherweapon he would be forced to dispense with him completely, compassion bedamned.

“Go. I have work todo and have no intention of caring for your lover, regardless of yourridiculous customs. Speak to your king and I am certain he will be lenient.”

Of course, he couldbe certain of no such thing, as every nobleman who considered himself analmighty authority each had their own particular amount of idiocy. Sometimes itwas conceit, sometimes it was an overactive sense of generosity that made theman easy target for swindlers and conquerors, but regardless, the result was thesame. Men served them either out of misguided loyalty or of fear, but not withthe blindness that they were somehow any more capable of ruling a kingdom.

“Mairi must beavenged!” But even as he spoke the man seemed weary, the pain and rage fleeingwith only a deep rooted sadness in its wake.

“What is your name?”He was not certain why he inquired; it was not as though he would ever see theman again. But he had found that sometimes people were more malleable whentheir names were used, and he simply wished to go on his way—preferably withoutthis man following and threatening him again.

“Raghnall, not thatyou deserve to know it.” He tried to sound spiteful, but by the way he grimacedhe too realised he merely sounded defeated.

“Raghnall, have youever killed a man?”

He had the audacityto look offended. At what point did the suggestion of sparing lives become aninsult? Garrick might have been callous over the right of another to continuebreathing, but that did not mean that a green, fresh youth should be ashamed ofhis lack of experience.

Although now that heconsidered it, perhaps indeed it was.

“I am well trainedwith a bow.”

“That was not myquestion. Killing a man changes you, whether you choose to acknowledge it ornot. If you think me heartless and foolish, I can assure you that my occupationhas merely encouraged such propensities. Do not be so quick to wish it foryourself, even for the sake of a maiden.”

At the mention of Mairi,Raghnall’s shoulders drooped and he leaned against a tree, apparently in needof its support—the very same that Garrick had used so recently to subdue him.

“She will be soalone. The elders have forbidden us from contacting her, even for a moment. Andif you will not tend to her...”

He sighed, wishingfor nothing more than to once more be on his horse and miles away from thisforest—and most especially its inhabitants. “You would truly prefer she be wedto the likes of me than to know she is alone?”

Raghnall glanced athim, and there was no mistaking the resignation and disgust that crossed hisfeatures. “Yes, for I love her. She will die on her own. At least with you shemight live.”

Garrick stared at hima moment longer, considering. He had assumed that by leaving her she would cometo her senses and return to her family. But if they would reject her—asevidently they would—he had left a delicate girl completely on her own, withnothing to hunt with or use for shelter.

“Life with me mightbe worse than death.”

Raghnall flinched. “Icannot believe that. Edlar... a friend saw what you did for her—how you caredfor her throughout the night. You are capable of kindness.” He hung his head,“I would beg you to be kind to her. She is sweetness itself and she does notrequire a harsh hand.”

Garrick’s ireprickled at the assumption, everyone always so quick to believe him capable ofharm simply for the sake of inflicting it.

“I shall considerit.”

He did not wait for aresponse. His mind reeled and he felt some corner of his mind ache with painand misery, and he knew not how to quiet it. He mounted his horse and when heturned to ensure the stranger had not deceived him and was not even nowdetermined to shoot an arrow through his heart, he discovered that the man wasalready gone.

And when he urged hishorse on with a firm kick he found that instead of heading toward the roadtoward Monavyn he was returning to the small glen.

But when he arrivedthe little nymph had gone.

And he had no ideahow to ever replace her again.