Forever His True Mate

    It was dark and the wind howled with an intensity that matched that of the crashing waves of the ocean that battered the rocky cliffs. The man was tired and wanted to rest, but he knew he could not. His love was depending on him and waited for him to save her. He climbed the last steep rise and went towards a derelict castle that lay atop a mountain. The ocean spray sounded like thunder as he crept closer to the castle. He could hear the wind whipping through the turrets as he shielded his eyes from the autumn debris that swirled around him. He crept slowly towards the back of the keep, towards what looked like the kitchen door. He crept through the kitchen that looked like it had been deserted long ago. There was broken crudely made pottery dishes strewn on the floor. The chairs lay tossed haphazardly around the room while the table had been pushed against the far wall. The fireplace was cold and empty, and he paid little attention to the wind whistling through it as he crept past. He used the darkness to hide his approach while the whipping wind and the sound of crashing waves muffled his footsteps on the dry grass of a small courtyard that connected the kitchen to the main keep. He stuck to the shadows and had barely made it across before he heard the first scream.           He pushed the next door open slowly so not to make noise and give away his element of surprise. The great hall beyond the courtyard was empty and cold like the large ornate hearth that was the focal point of the room. The castle was definitely abandoned. He listened intently. He could hear nothing but the wind. He knew his quarry was there though. He had heard it at  the marketplace in town that the man who had taken his love was hiding out in the castle. As he exited the Great Hall, he came to a foyer that led to a set stairs that traveled both sides. He heard a scream and the delirious laughter of a soon to be dead man.           His steps quickened as he took the stairs three at a time. He heard another scream. He ran to the door that he heard the scream come from and burst through. Standing there was a man about five foot six and maybe 200 lbs. He was a burly, disgusting, greasy looking man with old tattered badly worn clothes. The room held the smell of sweat and unwashed man. He looked passed the madman and saw his love beaten and broken. Her body lay limp. She was clothed in a ripped and tattered once beautiful dress that used to be a vibrant violet and had matched her eyes beautifully. He howled in despair as he withdrew his broad short sword and quickly lay waste to the greasy fellow who had kidn*pped and tortured his love.             He took her into his arms and held her closely. He listened to her breathing. It was shallow. It seemed as though she had passed out from the last blow that had been laid on her. He quickly gathered her up covered her with the cloth he found lying on the bed. He rushed her out of the castle and into the town towards the brightly lit tavern while yelling for a doctor. When a doctor presented himself, they went into a private room and he quickly begin to look over the young woman. “M’Lord?” The voice that spoke was weak but the love and wonder could still be heard. The doctor made him leave the room while he tended to her wounds. A great time later, he exited the room with an expression on his face that could only be described as destitute. He looked at the man. The doctor told him that her internal wounds had been too great. Her bleeding had been too severe for her to survive and that he was sorry. The man ran from the room and into a soft drizzle that had started. As he made his way, he dropped to his knees on the soft wet earth and yelled at the top of his lungs. He prayed to the gods of his fathers that his love would somehow come back from the dead. The words of a scorned witch from long ago echoed in his head “All who love you will parish before you! Until the wicca becomes of night you will see no light from love.”