Chapter 35
For the first time, Aiden had been part of a family, experiencing the joy of helping others, the satisfaction of working for something greater than himself, even as the nightmares from that day in Sheffield had receded into the shadow of his new life with the clan. Now, all of that was gone, taken from him as if stolen by a thief in the night. He did his best to block it out, save for the image of Kylee, her youthful life cut short by one well-aimed arrow. Like the young boy at Sheffield, the sight of her lifeless body would force itself into his mind repeatedly, terrorizing every moment of his waking life, torturing him in his dreams.
He rode west and within two days found himself at the edge of the Firth of Lorn, a large bay opening into the Atlantic Ocean. He was careful to avoid other clans as he passed through the Scottish mountains. Based on recent events, Aiden made a conscious effort to stay clear of people. He was, however, stopped numerous times by those acting as sentinels for their clans. Each time, he heard roughly the same question. 'What brings you into our land?' He explained that he was simply passing through, introducing himself as a monk and simple servant of God. He had, at some point, pulled his robe back on over his clothes in order to appropriately display himself as a man of God.
Arriving at the Firth of Lorn, Aiden dismounted from his horse and finding an outcropping of rock, he stepped out and stared across the frigid winter water. He would not stay long, as the air had been whipped up by the tumultuous ocean, imposing itself on the Scottish coast in waves. It was easier to be camped in the snowy woods than to make any attempt to face down the brutal winter gale. It numbed his hands and face and seemed to constantly steal his breath away. But, Aiden stayed long enough to curse God, demanding to know why he had been forced to carry the burden of what had once been called a 'gift'. Yes, he had saved many lives from the brutality of battle, but when a life was slipping away, his gift fell to nothing.
Aiden retreated from the frigid sea, convinced that the heavens possessed no great truth, no divine plan. Perhaps God received far more pleasure as the jester, unlike the glorious divine creator humankind had placed their faith in. Certainly, no God of goodness and mercy would ever allow His beloved creations to fall without His outstretched hand to catch them. And the death of any child, Aiden decided, was a wholly unnecessary event, devoid of mercy or kindness. Aiden came to hold God responsible for the world he had, thus far, witnessed and condemned Him for the crime of neglect. Once again, he had become blinded by his anger and vowed never again to use what God had cursed him with. The chieftain's words repeated in his mind. 'It is no fault to plant your blade in a man, so long as you do it for the right reason'. But, Aiden had grown tired of the world he had seen, the anguish of those living on the edge of survival, and how quickly people seemed to be to bring death to their fellow human beings. His soul had become sickened with the sight of violence and bloodshed. Worst of all, he had become a participant in what he repeatedly found to be an alien world, as compared with his former life in the Urielin monastery. Had it not been a disguise for unholy practices, he would still be hidden away behind its protective walls of solitude, unaware of the world and unwilling to venture out into it.
Leaving the rocky coast, Aiden traveled south. He skirted the tree line in the event he needed to make a hasty retreat from the elements. Before being discovered by the MacGyver clan, he had managed to refine his survival skills and was more than adequately prepared to quickly build an effective shelter. But days later, as he wandered over the English border, he discovered something unexpected. In the snow was a fresh set of footprints. Their size and shape led Aiden to believe they belonged to a child, lost in the woods. The twists and turns of their path hinted at someone struck with some ailment, perhaps near starvation. Dismounting his horse, Aiden tied its bridle to the nearest tree and followed tracks into the woods. Walking nearly a quarter of a mile, he was both surprised and suspicious to find that the tracks ended, leaving him to consider the possibility that their owner had backtracked and slipped away. His eyes scanned the snowy woods around him, detecting no movement, save for the branches that wavered in the occasional winter breeze.
It lasted only a brief moment, no longer than the space of a heartbeat. The slight sound of snow crunching underfoot reach out through the icy air and pierced his consciousness. His hand immediately took hold of the grip of his sword. But as he spun around, Aiden was blindsided by the impact of a large wooden object as it crashed against the side of his head. He woke to find himself on his back, his skull throbbing with pain. He opened his eyes as his vision cleared, the rest of his senses came back to life. As he sat up, he discovered the bed he'd been lying on. It had been expertly fashioned with a mattress of pine boughs and moss. The covers were layered with deer and rabbit pelts, stitched together by hand.
Taking a deep breath, Aiden brought himself back to complete awareness and examined his surroundings. The shelter was sturdy and domed shaped and as he investigated its walls, found the wind unable to penetrate them. But, the one thing immediately noticed was warmth. The air was being fueled by a crackling fireplace, made of simple fieldstone held together by mud and peat. A narrow chimney rose up through the roof, venting the smoke outside. The lower walls were lined with shelves while dried herbs and animal skins hung from the ceiling. But his examination was suddenly stopped by the sound of approaching footsteps. He backed up to the bed and reached across his hip for his sword, but found that it, along with his belt, had been taken. Aiden prepared to fight his way out of whatever was coming through the door and as he heard the door latch open, his body tensed with anticipation.
The door opened and in stepped a figure covered from head to toe in rabbit fur. Their face was covered and the draping of fur effectively concealed even their gender.
"Where is my sword?" Aiden yelled. Besides a knife, it was the only weapon he carried and suddenly felt naked without it. The fur-bound figure closed the door and without a word walked to the fireplace, dropping an armload of wood to the floor.
"I doubt you'll be needing that here," a voice said.
Aiden found himself surprised that the voice within the suit of fur was female. His body relaxed as curiosity took the place of suspicion. The woman slipped the ankle length coat from her body and laid it down a few feet from the stone fireplace. Her hair was black and hung down to the middle of her back. Her eyes were deep brown, and her skin a blazing bronze. She was dressed in a very worn near ankle-length green dress. Aiden was struck dumb by the sight of her. He had not interacted with many women. But like most men, he knew womanly beauty when he saw it. She put her hands on her hips and spoke with an assertive voice. "Have you never seen a woman before?" Still taken aback, Aiden fumbled for words. The shock of seeing a woman living in isolation of the wintry English countryside overwhelmed his senses, standing as a stone wall between him and any degree of rational thinking. "Certainly not out here," he answered. She was strikingly beautiful. A true work of divine art, her body was well proportioned and her waist bore a shape an hourglass would find enviable. But, it was the gown she wore that pushed her breasts up into a high deep cleavage, and although Aiden has spent his life as a monk, he noticed this particular feature of her physique immediately. Yes, Aiden had spent many years as an avowed monk, but he was also a man, prone to human weaknesses and frailties.
Upon seeing where Aiden's gaze had fallen, the woman threw off her fur-lined shoes and stepped up to him in bare feet. Her tone had changed from assertive and defensive to playful and teasing. It had been quite a long time since she has seen anyone, much less, a man. She got close enough that her lips were within no more than a couple of inches from Aiden's chin. Yet, she did not touch him. This led Aiden into a deeper confusion. Nothing about these surroundings made sense to him, and he suddenly began to suspect that, not only was none of it real but that it was likely an illusion, created by the devil himself. He grabbed the woman by the shoulders and demanded an explanation.
"What manner of treachery is this when a woman's place is with her husband?"
Her anger rose quickly as she brought her hands up and striking the inside of his wrists, broke Aiden's grip, then pushed him away.
"What do you know of me?" she asked. "What should I know when a witch casts a spell to trick my eyes with a woman?" Aiden replied. "Did you think my resolve would be so weak?"
The woman stood back with her hands on her hips again. Her eyes reflected an active mind as a grin stretched across her face.
"Do you think I'm a witch?" she began. She made a concerted effort not to laugh at Aiden's accusation but chose to humor him anyway.
"And how is it you would know a witch, should you meet one?"
During Aiden's monastic education, he had learned of all manner of things bewitched. This included the place of the devil's mark.
"There is only one means of discovering this and if I am proven correct, you will die."
But, Aiden was without a weapon and if it became necessary, he would kill her with his bare hands. The woman was familiar with the lore of witchcraft and had seen others burned over accusations of devil's deeds, words of anger that held no merit.
The search for this mark would be brief. And knowing what Aiden was looking for, she submitted to it, in spite of the indignity.
"Would you at least allow me to lie down?" she asked.
Aiden agreed and stepping off to the side, allowing her to walk to her bed. Lying on the fur blanket, she stared up at the ceiling as Aiden sat on his knees near her feet. She interrupted him as he slid her skirt up over her hips.
"Before you begin," she began. "I am Aelianna."
Aiden hesitated. Usually, the execution of evil was an impersonal process and introductions were not needed. But considering what was about to take place, Aelianna thought otherwise, that something as intimate as a physical search of one's person should require knowing who one was searching. They made a brief moment of eye contact as Aiden proceeded in continuing to push her skirt up, noticing how shapely her legs were, how soft her skin was. Aelianna was already becoming aroused as Aiden opened her legs and moved up between her knees.
It was during his monastic education that he learned how to conduct this search and where to look for the mark. Aiden had also been taught that the mark was also referred to as the devil's nipple, the place from which he sucked blood from a witch. Upon inspection, Aiden discovered what he had come to believe to be the mark of the devil. It lay hidden in a place low on a woman's body, concealed by a patch of hair. He looked into Aelianna's eyes as he slipped a fingertip over it. Aelianna's breathing quickened with intense arousal as she slowly bent her head back against the bed. Without thinking, she reached down with both hands and forcing Aiden's fingers to straighten, pulled them into her body. Her strength took Aiden by surprise as he tried to pull his hand back. But, Aelianna begged him to continue. His thoughts briefly flashed back to his monastic vows and he was suddenly overtaken by an epiphany. He specifically considered his vow of chastity and how all his vows had been required under the pretense of godliness. Once again, Aiden realized he had been lied to, and that the vows he had taken had lost their meaning. This was only compounded by the experience of blind arousal, rapidly pushing him over the edge of an erotic insanity.
His senses having completely left him, Aiden removed his hand from between her legs, grabbed her by the waist, and pulling her up onto her knees. As though knowing what he would do before he did it, Aelianna raised her arms as Aiden wrestled her dress up over her head. In turn, she began stripping off his clothes and discovering the intensity of his arousal, bent down and taking him between her lips, handled him with the gentleness of rose petals. And after he laid down on his back, Aelianna took him in far deeper.
With every repetition, every rise and fall of her head, Aiden's body continued to writhe as his hips repeatedly pushed themselves up toward the ceiling. As they made eye contact, Aelianna gave him a teasing grin. Lifting her head from him, she crawled up Aiden's sweating body and stopping at his hips, guided him into what he had previously thought to be a forbidden place. No sooner had she buried him in her warm inviting body did his own burst into a tense throbbing chaotic mass of muscle and sweat. Repeatedly, Aelianna hammered her body against him as his fists clutched the fur blanket beneath him. She began screaming as she reached the moment of her release, while Aiden's body cramped, his teeth clenched as his face turned a brilliant red. Both had reached their passionate peak together and for Aiden, it was an experience that would change everything.