Boyett-Compo Charlotte - Wind Tales 01 (48 page)

“Vashir,” Kaelan finished. A spark of challenge entered his steady gaze. “I trained under him, too."

Quinn's mouth dropped open. “And you can't fight any better than you did?” he queried.

Kaelan glared at the other man. “I said I was out of practice.” His mouth twisted. “Not only with the

sword, but also in the ability to move without the impediment of a crippled limb."

Quinn accepted that explanation. He had been told of the circumstance behind Hesar's being an exile.

What he would not accept was the man using his old injury as an excuse not to fight any better than he

had. “Then I suggest you practice until you can hold your own with me,” he declared.

“Hold my own?” Kaelan saw red. To his way of thinking, he had held his own. Before he knew what he

was doing, he was dragging his sword out of the sheath and backing away.

Quinn understood the challenge. He unsheathed his own weapon and brought it up.

“No more today!” Occultus called out.

“We have unfinished business!” Kaelan disagreed.

“No more!” The unmistakable warning in the priest's voice was there for the dullest man to hear.

Kaelan scowled, but lowered his blade; Quinn did the same. Now that the ransom had come from the

Tribunal for Occultus’ safe return, the sorcerer would be leaving on the Lady Morgaine, another pirate

ship, on the evening tide and he had demanded a moment of time with Kaelan and Quinn together.

“Another time,” Kaelan snapped as he turned away from Quinn.

“Any time, Stormy,” Quinn returned, grinning as Kaelan scowled at the nickname.

Occultus watched the two men striding angrily up the beach toward him. He looked first at Kaelan, the

dark one, then to Quinn, the fair, and thought they were both extraordinarily handsome men. Kaelan's

eyes were tawny-brown; Quinn's eyes were a pale sky-blue. Of an identical height and weight and

breadth of shoulder, both strutted when they walked: a sign of supreme assurance in their own abilities if

not arrogance in their appeal. Both were very smart men, good warriors, dedicated to helping those who

could not help themselves. They were extremely knowledgeable about horseflesh and were expert riders.

Each was more than efficient with a blade and equal when it came to shooting a crossbow. Under other

circumstances, they would have become fast friends. Instead, they were fast becoming mortal enemies.

And that, Occultus could not allow.

“Come inside,” the priest demanded as the men joined him. He turned, his tall, lean frame perfectly

straight, and walked toward the house.

“I never thought I'd take orders from a priest of the Brotherhood,” Kaelan quipped.

“At least we agree on one thing,” Quinn grunted. “I could never imagine myself doing it, either."

Occultus was seated on a cushion in the center of the room he had commandeered as his study. The

room was bare except for a stack of plump cushions piled near the door and two brazier that were lit at

all times, making the small enclosure stifling in the tropical heat.

“Sit,” Occultus commanded and waited until the two men had lowered themselves to the cushions he

had provided for their use.

Quinn armed the sweat from his forehead. The room was suffocating and there was an aroma that made

him a bit nauseous. He glanced over at Hesar and saw that he was also being effected by the room's

heat.

“I will be leaving in a few hours,” the warriors heard Occultus say and looked at him. “But I will not go

until I have assured myself there will be no death dealt here because of the woman."

Kaelan flinched.

Quinn looked down at his hands.

“It will stop,” Occultus warned.

“We haven't been fighting over Gilly,” Kaelan said.

Occultus lifted his head and looked down his hawk-like nose at the young prince. “have you not?”

Kaelan risked a glance at Quinn, but the other man was still staring at his hands whose fingers were

threaded together in his lap.

“Lord Arbra?” Occultus inquired, switching his scrutiny to the quiet man.

Quinn shrugged, but didn't look up. Didn't reply.

“Look at me,” Occultus commanded.

Arbra slowly raised his head and locked his attention on the priest. He knew what was being asked of

him, but he was loath to express the way he felt. He understood that when he did, there would be more

than just blatant antagonism between him and Hesar. There would be out and out war and he didn't think

that would serve anyone's purpose.

“Tell him,” Occultus demanded.

A sharp frown creased Quinn's brow for he knew he'd been read as easily as an open book. He shook

his head.

“Tell him!” The annoyance in the sorcerer's rebuke left no room for denial.

Kaelan sensed something was about to be said he knew he wasn't going to like. To forestall what he

suspected was coming, he smiled, although the smile never reached his eyes and barely hovered on his

lips before it was gone. “I think Arbra and I know what the other one..."

“TELL HIM!” Occultus bellowed, cutting Kaelan off in mid-sentence.

Quinn's head snapped toward Kaelan. “I am in love with your wife,” he said boldly. “And I aim to take

her away from you."

A strangled roar of pure rage burst from Kaelan's throat and he lunged at Quinn, toppling the man

sideways as he fell on him.

Occultus did not move the entire time the two warriors tumbled arse over elbow on the bare floor. He

never winced at the vicious hits, the knees which drove brutally into groins or fists which broke skin and

bloodied noses. Not once did he demand they stop, only using his magik to keep them from rolling into

the braziers, knocking them down, and setting the room on fire.

He sat where he was, arms folded over his chest, legs tucked under him and watched the spectacle

unfold. He did not cheer for one man over the other nor did he value one man's ability more so than his

opponent. He simply sat and waited until neither man was able to continue the brawl. When they lay

gasping and bloody on the floor, semi-conscious and throbbing with pain, he stood up and walked to

them, looking down with mild irritation.

“Kaelan, tell him how you feel about what he said."

Kaelan's mouth was torn, a tooth chipped, and he was having enough trouble getting air into his battered

lungs without having to explain himself to the bastard lying beside him. This wasn't finished and he knew

before it was, one of them was going to have to die.

“That will not happen,” Occultus told him. “Alel needs the two of you to do what must be done."

“I ... won't ... do ... anything ... with ... Hesar!” Quinn vowed. “Except ... slit ... his ... throat!” He turned

to his side with effort and spat out a gob of bloody saliva and along with it, a jaw tooth.

“I'll ... see ... you ... in ... hell,” Kaelan responded to the threat.

Occultus sighed wearily. “This is why I am thankful there is no woman in my life,” he stated. He dropped

gracefully to his knees between the two men and looked from one to another. “See the damage they

cause?"

Kaelan struggled to sit up. He coughed, brought up blood-fleck phlegm, then spat it away. He was still

laboring for breath, but he thought he might be able to tell the bastard beside him exactly how things

would be. “I will fight for her, Arbra,” he said and had to stop a moment as a wave of dizziness and pain

rippled over him.

“I am ready anytime you are, Stormy,” Quinn hissed.

“She is my life,” Kaelan stressed. “I've spent seven years dying inside because I did not have her with

me. I have endured a hell you can not even begin to imagine, wondering what man might be putting his

hands on her.” He coughed again, drew in several ragged breaths before he continued. “I'd lay awake

half the night, night after night, imagining her giving herself to some lucky man. The other part of the night I

worried that some sick, twisted old lecher was slobbering all over her."

Quinn forced himself to sit up. He ran the back of his hand under his chin where a stream of bloody

saliva had formed. He looked at Hesar, wondering if he, himself, looked at bad as that man did.

“When she showed up at my door, I could not believe my good fortune,” Kaelan continued. “Here she

was-right where I had always dreamed of her being-unmarried, unsullied by another man. It was like

going to sleep in hell and waking up in heaven. I thought I had died, but was so glad I hadn't when I

knew this was no dream, that she was really there."

Quinn's body was aching with pain so he lay back, bracing himself on his elbows as he waited for Hesar

to have his say. He drew in hard, quick, painful breaths-careful not to breathe too deeply-for he knew he

had a broken rib or two.

“I will not let anyone take her away from me ever again, Sorn,” Kaelan declared. “I will kill the man who

tries."

“He will not try,” Occultus said.

Quinn turned his head and stared at the priest. “You don't speak for me!"

“You were married,” Occultus reminded the man. “Your lady-wife was taken from you. Have you any

doubt in your mind that Xavier Rahshobi is responsible for her death?"

“None!” Quinn spat. “No doubt at all."

“Have you doubt that it was he who was responsible for your arrest and conviction? That it was he who

made sure the Tribunal sent you to Tyber's Isle?” When Quinn didn't bother to answer, the priest pointed

at finger at him. “How did that make you feel?"

“You know gods-be-damned well how it made me feel!” Quinn threw back at him.

“And you vowed one day to find Xavier and end his worthless life for what he did, isn't that so?"

“Aye, it's so!” Quinn ignored the pain in his chest and sat up again. “I will gut him and feed his innards to

the crocs!"

Occultus lowered his voice to an insinuating whisper. “Your lady-wife can not be returned to you, but

Prince Kaelan's lady is alive and well and very much in love with him."

Quinn turned his head away, not wanting to hear that.

“Did you not pay a terrible price when you lost your lady?” Occultus asked.

Arbra refused to answer.

“You know the agony you endured when the Lady Nailah was taken from you in death. Do you not

know that Kaelan Hesar felt the same agony of spirit, wretchedness of life that you felt when his lady was

taken from him?"

“His woman didn't die,’ Quinn grated. “He still has her."

“And aims to keep her,” Kaelan snapped.

“We'll see,” Quinn grunted.

Occultus reached out and gripped Quinn's shoulder. “Would you put him, any man, through that again

simply because you have fallen in love with a woman who does not love you in return and never will?"

Quinn flinched. He dared not ask the sorcerer if what he was saying was true for he feared it was. Best

to go on hoping Angel would one day love him than to ask and have all doubt removed.

“She is my woman,” Hesar stated. “I will go to my grave before I ever let anyone else take her from me

again!"

Occultus held up his hand, demanding quiet. He lowered his hand, folded it with the other one in his lap

and looked from one man to the other.

“It is your destinies of which we speak here, gentlemen. Destinies decreed by the gods, Themselves.

Nothing else is of any importance. You were meant to meet, just as you have, in the way you have, and

be joined in your mutual hindrance of the Domination's goals.” His gaze locked on Kaelan. “If it were not

for the woman, the two of you would have become fast friends from the first moment you met."

“We will never be friends,” Quinn said firmly.

Occultus nodded. “Perhaps not, but you will become pleasant enemies."

“What you are saying is you want us to work together,” Kaelan grated. “In order for me to do that, I

have to trust him.” He glared at Sorn. “And I don't trust him any further than I can see him."

“Nor I, you!” Quinn snorted.

Occultus swung his gaze to Arbra. “And why is that, Lord Quinn?” He indicated Kaelan with his hand.

“You have no reason to mistrust His Grace. What has he done to you to merit your feeling?"

Arbra, who up until that time had not been known to make quick judgments of other men, only

shrugged. He knew there was no way he could put into words the way he felt about Hesar, but he knew

if he was to be honest with himself, he would have to admit the Viragonian had given him no reason to

mistrust him.

“I am waiting, Lord Quinn,” Occultus pressed. “What reason do you give for not trusting His Grace?"

“He has the woman I want!” Arbra snapped, irritated with himself that his explanation sounded both

juvenile and inadequate. He looked away, somewhat chagrined. “For no other reason than that."

Kaelan ground his teeth, understanding the sorcerer would chastise him if he dared comment on that

telling assertion. He held his tongue, as difficult as that was, and when Occultus turned to him, a knowing

look in the older man's sharp brown eyes, he, too, shrugged.

“That is why I don't trust him,” Kaelan admitted. “A man who lusts after another man's wife, can't be

trusted."

Arbra's head snapped back around. “My honor has never been questioned before today, Hesar!"

“But you have never coveted what was not yours before, either, have you?” Occultus queried in a soft

voice.

“No,” Arbra agreed, “but..."

“Then,” Occultus cut him off, “it would not be wise to start doing so now when your honor is of utmost

importance."

Quinn Arbra said nothing for a long moment, then he sighed deeply. “I am a Windwarrior,” he reminded