Boyett-Compo Charlotte - Wind Tales 01 (13 page)

Nothing he could have said would have shocked her as much. She put a hand up to her throat.

“Serenia?” she questioned.

“Elga told me where you would be,” he said. He looked for all the world as if his heart were breaking. “I

knew I had to be the one to come tell you."

“Tell me what?” Gillian challenged. Already she was dying inside. He had left her? Sent his brother to

bid his farewell?

“As much as it pains me to tell you this, Gillian, my brother is a thief.” He let the words drop like poison

into the susceptible recesses of the young woman's mind. “He took the money; spent it on his horse farm

to purchase those Rysalians last summer. He had expected to sell them for a goodly price, I suppose, but

when the floods hit and the animals drowned, he lost the entire investment."

That much was true. Kaelan had spent a great deal of money—albeit his own from the small inheritance

he'd received from their mother's estate—on horses he'd purchased from the Ben-Alkazar family. When

the flash flooding began, there had been no way to rescue the seven stallions and four mares in the far

pasture; the poor animals had been swept downstream along with half of Kaelan's spring colts.

“When he realized he couldn't replace the money, he made plans to run,” Duncan sighed. “Knowing the

Master Treasurer would eventually find out who had stolen the money. There are only three men who

have access to the Depository: the Master Treasurer, the Jarl, and the Jarl's Designee; in this case,

Kaelan."

Gillian turned and stared out over the dark, swirling waters. The thought crossed her mind to jump into

that black abyss for she was surely as dead at that moment as she would be when the Gatherer came to

claim her.

“I know you care for him, dearling,” Duncan said sadly. “I wish he had not hurt you in this callous

manner."

“I love him,” she corrected the Jarl.

Duncan went to her and put a comforting arm around her shoulder, fearful the girl was silly enough to

plunge to her death in the icy waters of the Farthane. “I'm afraid there's more,” he said gently.

Gillian shook her head. “Nothing I care to hear,” she whispered. She swiped angrily at the treacherous

tears that were falling from her eyes.

“I believe you should,” Duncan insisted. He turned her from the railing and held her by the shoulders. He

took a deep breath and put what he hoped was the final nail in Kaelan's coffin. “He meant to ransom you

back to your father once he got you to Serenia."

“No!” she shouted, jerking away from him. “That's not true!"

Duncan held a hand out to her. “Why would I lie, dearling? He needed 100,000 gold pieces to replace

the money he took; your father would gladly have paid that for your safe return and Kaelan would have

saved himself a possible prison sentence."

“I don't believe you!” Gillian tried to get away from him, but he held on to her. “You want to make

Kaelan look bad!"

“Why would I do that, Gillian?” the Jarl asked with a sad smile. “What have I to gain from it?"

What, indeed?
she wondered as she stood there-trembling and heart-sick-staring back at him with tears

streaming down her face.

Duncan drove his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “I love my brother, milady, but I do not hold with

the things he does. He sometimes acts as though there will be no consequences to his actions; for the hurt

he has caused you-hurt I saw coming, I fear-I am going to make him atone."

Gillian drew in a ragged breath. “Make him atone how?"

“He offered to give back the money as soon as he could sell Revenge."

“Revenge?” Gillian gasped. “But he surely would not!"

Duncan nodded quickly. “Aye, he would to keep me from ordering what I've already ordered."

A sharp pain of fear pierced Gillian's heart. “What do you mean?” She stepped closer so she could

better see the Jarl's face through the mist of fog.

“I told my brother he would have to pay—and pay dearly—for his crimes this time.” The Jarl looked out

across the water. “It is past time he took responsibility for the things he does; he is no longer a green boy

to be excused of his mistakes.” He turned to face her once more. “I informed him I would not stay the

Tribunal's hand when they seek to prosecute him for the theft of depository funds if should he find a way

to pay them back."

Gillian reached out to him, took hold of Duncan's jacket lapel. “Your Grace, no!” she begged. “He

could not stand to be put into prison! We will pay the money for him! I will do anything to keep him from

such a fate! I could not bare to see him locked away!"

For one brief moment, Duncan saw true, unselfish love flitting through the young woman's eyes and his

heart lurched. If only he could find the same kind of blind devotion Kaelan had stumbled into ... He

shook his head, knowing such love was rare, indeed, and he would never be on the receiving end of it.

The thought turned his mouth bitter and his words hard and brutal.

“Have no fear of that happening, mam'selle,” he sneered. “My brother has already found the solution to

the problem and—true to form—he will benefit from the plan. To avoid the disgrace to the family a

public trial would surely bring, the Tribunal has agreed to what he proposes although I, myself, find it

deplorable."

“I don't understand,” she replied, her forehead crinkling.

“He told me to offer him on the marriage market,” Duncan snapped, looking away from her lovely face.

“To the Lord with the highest Bride Price."

“What?!” Gillian breathed.

“One with land and holdings equal to a Jarl's kin,” Duncan lied. “A Lord willing to reimburse the

Depository and still have enough left over to replace the horses that were killed in the flood.” He watched

her face crumble and felt a momentary stab of guilt, but he threw it aside. “Kaelan doesn't care who the

woman is as long as she has enough money to keep him in style, and hails from his homeland."

“A Viragonian woman?” she questioned, stung deeply by Duncan's words.

The Jarl lifted his chin. “He can not marry a foreigner, dearling, and keep the bloodlines of the

Principality pure; he said so, himself."

“But he asked me to marry him!” she protested and felt like screaming as Duncan slowly shook his head

in regret.

“To get you in his bed, Mam'selle, he would have promised you the moon and stars and planets. That is

his way."

Gillian backed away from her tormentor. She held up her hands when he would have spoken again. “Tell

me no more of your lies, Duncan Hesar!” she warned. “I'll not hear them!"

“If you do not believe me,” the Jarl said softly, “go speak with the Duchess. It was she who sent me

here. The lady loves you like her own."

Elga love her? Gillian thought hatefully. The woman loved no one but herself. But the mention of her

father's mate brought about the effect Duncan had intended: it made Gillian stop to wonder what reason

either she or the Jarl would have to put an end to tonight's plan unless at least a portion of what Duncan

said was true. If Kaelan had really loved her, would he not have come? Even if he were guilty of the

things of which his brother had accused him, would he not—if he even cared for her—have come

anyway to spirit her away with him? Into exile? Even with so dishonorable an intent as simply bedding her

as the Jarl suggested? Had he any feelings for her at all, would he not have made the effort to seek her

out instead of running to Serenia?

“Sweet merciful Alel,” she cried, burying her face in her hands. “I don't know what to believe!"

“I am aggrieved at the hurt Kaelan has caused you,” she heard the Jarl saying. “At least allow me to

make amends to you."

“And how would you do that?” Gillian asked, bitterly.

Duncan came to her and stood staring down into her ravaged face. “The announcement of my brother's

availability will go out on the morrow.” He smiled ruefully. “I would wager to say there will be emissaries

from every great house throughout the Realm speeding toward Tempest Keep within an hour of the

news’ release. There will be a great hue and cry as the Lords seek to ally themselves closer to the House

of Hesar. I would not think you would care to be here to watch the circus that will surely come."

Gillian shook her head. “It doesn't matter,” she mumbled.

“Nor would you,” Duncan continued as though she hadn't spoken, “care to be present when he takes his

Joining vows with the lady whose dowry will bring the highest bid."

A stab of jealousy and irrevocable hurt turned Gillian's tearful face to stubborn anger. “No, I think not."

Duncan reached out and took her into his arms, feeling her body stiffen even though she made no move

to stop him. He drew her to him—made heady by the sweet perfume of her hair and the softness of her

young body—and held her head cupped in his right hand.

“I will have the Windlass readied,” he whispered. “You can sail to Chale and stay there until this whole

sordid mess is over."

“How soon?” she asked, and her voice was a mere sigh of defeat.

“A week, perhaps,” he answered, his heart hammering in his chest.

“Aye,” she said, and the Jarl would have been stunned had he been able to see the hard glitter of hate

forming in the young woman's pretty green eyes. “Make your ship ready, Prince Duncan. I would like

nothing better than to leave this heathen place!"

* * * *

Kaelan looked up as the door to his cell opened. He was surprised to see the Duchess Elga. Standing

quickly, he felt his heart slamming heavily against his ribcage. “Milady?” he questioned, hoping against

hope she was here to help him.

“May I have a moment of your time, Your Grace?” she asked. She held her satin skirts up and away

from the dust of the cell's floor.

“A moment is all I am left with, I fear,” he answered. He looked about, realized he could not offer a seat

on his grimy bunk.

“It's of no matter,” she said, understanding his lack of amenities. “I've come to discuss Gillian with you."

His heart nearly burst from his chest. “Gillian?” He went to her. “Does she know where I am?"

Elga Cree held up a hand to stop him. “We saw no need to tell her you have been incarcerated,” the

Duchess stated. “It would only hurt her the more."

That his lady had been hurt by all this, he had no doubt. From the look in Elga's eye, he knew she was

as much a part of the cause of that hurt as his brother, Duncan, was. The thought nearly lifted his hands to

circle the woman's slim neck and squeeze until there was no life left in her whoring body. As it was, he

turned away from her and plopped down on the cot.

“So you are the power behind the Jarl,” he sneered. It had often occurred to him that Duncan was far

too weak and wishy-washy to do the things he had since becoming Jarl; he knew there had to be

someone advising the bastard, for Duncan had not the mental facilities to come up with such diabolical

schemes as the one in which Kaelan found himself trapped.

“I have some influence at Court,” Elga granted and chose to ignore the snort of contempt that came from

the young prince.

“What do you want?” Kaelan growled.

“I would ask your opinion concerning Gillian."

He looked up. For the first time, he saw what might well have passed for worry on the older woman's

face. “What of her?” he asked, feeling uneasy.

Elga stared hard at him. “What do we say to her?"

“Say to her?” His tone was incredulous. “You help to destroy her life as well as mine, and ask me how

to explain your evil to the woman I love?"

Elga fanned away his words. “She cries the day long,” she snapped.

“And who is responsible for that?” he hissed at her. He had no idea what lies they had told Gillian, but

he hoped she knew him well enough to know they were just that: lies.

“She will be leaving at the end of the week,” Elga told him and was pleased at the flinch that shivered

through his strong young body. “She does not wish to be here when your bride is chosen. Until she

leaves, I would see her at least calm, if not so near to despondency as she is now."

“How could you hurt her like this?” he asked. “What ill has she done to you, Elga?"

“No ill, at all,” the woman said. “In my way, I care deeply for the child.” She smiled hatefully. “It is you I

wish to hurt, Kaelan."

“Oh, I've no doubt of that!” he shot back. “You and your spineless lover!"

“You've spoiled her for other men,” Elga complained. “A woman does not ever get over her first love;

he will always be there at the back of her mind: a yardstick by which she will measure every other man."

“And I ain't what you have in mind for her, is that it?”

“She needs a husband who is powerful; whose sword hand the Jarl can count upon to defend the House

of Hesar."

“De Viennes,” Kaelan sneered. He almost came off the cot to throttle the witch. “You aim to give her to

that son of a bitch!"

“Only if you do not do as your Jarl wishes,” Elga warned him, cutting him off and smiling at his wary

look. “Either bow to Duncan's authority or we will gladly give her hand to Rolf de Viennes.” She dusted

a fleck of lint from her sleeve. “Surely you must know the man has been after Duncan to do just that."

“I'll kill that bastard before I will allow you to hand Gillian over to him!” Kaelan told her.

“We'll not, unless you give us trouble, Kaelan,” she cautioned. “Either way, you'll not be seeing Gillian