Authors: Elysa Hendricks
Tags: #Kidnapping, #Fantasy Fiction, #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #Fantasy, #Life on Other Planets, #Revenge, #General, #Love Stories
that if you’re pure of heart and follow the last of the blue rays
of light, you’ll find the mythical land of Andacor hidden deep
within the mountains.”
“Andacor?” She turned her gaze to him.
“When I was a lad, my mother would tell me tales of
Andacor to lull me to sleep. A land of peace and love, where
knowledge is sought for its own sake rather than to use against
others for gain. She even claimed a blood kinship with the
Andacorians through her mother.” Kyne laughed harshly. “My
sweet, gentle mother was a fool. There is no such place.”
“Is it foolish to wish for peace? To desire love? If I were
pure of heart I would follow the light and count myself fortunate
to be allowed to search. Whether or not Andacor is a place of
substance or merely a dream, men should strive to find it.”
In the blue dusk Sianna appeared ethereal, a delicate figure
of spun crystal. Hardly a cold, hardhearted woman who calmly
plotted with her father to murder her lover. Just who was she?
Sianna, daughter of light, healer? Or Laila, born of the night,
murderer?
Desire blossomed in him. He wanted this woman with a
longing that overcame his self disgust.
Her hand settled on his calf, and a jolt went through him. In
that instant he felt her reverence, her yearning, her satisfied
lassitude. And something more. Her honesty.
Before his conviction of her guilt crumbled, he jerked away.
Unwilling to accept what he sensed, he broke the spell she cast
over him with her touch. He refused to fall victim to her witchery
as the others had. Hakan pranced, protesting Kyne’s rough
handling.
She stepped back from the restless quinar and looked up at
Kyne. “What’s wrong? Did you feel it, too? The connection?”
The question struck at him. What did she sense from him?
Used to hiding his emotions behind a mask of calm command,
the thought this small woman could penetrate that facade made
him wary.
“I felt nothing. We must head back to the castle before
dark.”
As the sun continued to sink, the glow faded and the world
returned to normal.
“Come.” Unnaturally gruff, his voice echoed in the growing
twilight. He urged Hakan forward, leaving her to walk behind.
But he couldn’t leave behind his growing doubts so easily.
When she touched his leg, Sianna felt connected to Kyne.
She read his turmoil, sensed his doubts and confusion about her
and something more—desire. The heat of his emotion excited
and frightened her, as had his talk of Andacor, a place she’d
never heard of, yet somehow knew.
***
The next day, shouts and the clatter of hooves in the courtyard
broke the early morning silence and drew Sianna’s attention
from her patient. She welcomed the distraction from her
thoughts. Though she’d again lain awake for hours, she’d fallen
asleep before Kyne returned to his chamber. And when she
awoke this morning he had already left. She should be relieved
he seemed to require nothing from her. Instead she felt a vague
sense of disappointment.
“Do you have a healer? We have injured,” a voice called.
Sianna hurried from the great hall out into the yard, Warda
trotting just behind. Dozens of people milled about, voices raised
in confusion.
“I am a healer.” She moved toward the tall man who
appeared to be the group’s leader. “Bring your injured within.”
The man turned. Sianna stopped mid-step. She felt the blood
drain from her face.
“Laila.” The word came out a mere breath of sound. Even
though Laila, dressed in men’s clothing, had chopped her hair
short about her head, and blood and grime smeared her cheeks,
Sianna knew her sister.
For a moment Laila stared at Sianna, then recognition
dawned, and her features grew stiff. To another man she said,
“Carry the injured inside and see them settled. I will speak to
the healer and the castle’s Rul.” She gripped Sianna’s arm and
pulled her away from the crowd toward a deserted corner of
the courtyard.
Warda gave a low growl, his eyes never leaving Laila. She
paid him no mind.
“Laila...”
“My name is Lisha. The other you speak of is dead. I lead
these people and bear a message for Rul Cathor.”
“But La..Lisha. It’s not safe for you here. You must leave
immediately.” Terror made Sianna’s voice shake. “If anyone
discovers your identity, they’ll rip you apart.”
“And what of you? Do they know who you are?”
“No. A few believe I am you, but they have a use for me—
you. So for the time I am safe enough.” In the last few days
Sianna had learned more of her father’s sins than her gentle
heart could bear. “The people here hate our father. Since coming
here I’ve learned why, but I’ll not stand by and see you suffer
for his crimes. Though they believe differently, I know you’ve
no part in his evil.”
Laila laughed without humor, the sound harsh and pained.
“You have the look of your mother and see the world as she
did, a place where the good outweighs the bad.”
“You knew her?” All her life Sianna had wondered and
dreamed about the woman who had given her life and died
doing so. If she had lived would all have been different?
Laila nodded, her gaze growing softer. “DiSanti brought
her home from the mountains when I was six annum. Though
he kept her against her will, she was ever kind to me.”
“I don’t understand. Our father stole my mother?”
“Now is not the time for this discussion. I must see to my
people and speak to Rul Cathor. I have news he will want to
hear.”
“But I....”
“We will talk later, when there are not so many ears about.
I would know how you come to be here, but my injured need to
be cared for first.”
“Yes, of course.” Sianna pushed her curiosity aside. “You
are right. How many injured do you have?”
“Three seriously and a half a dozen minor.”
Reluctantly, Sianna turned to leave. There was so much
she wanted to know, to ask, but now was not the time. Would
there be time?
Laila’s soft voice stopped her. “Go carefully, little sister.
We tread a narrow ledge along a steep drop. One misstep, and
we plunge to our doom.”
The ominous words sent a chill down Sianna’s spine. Why
did Laila come here, to the stronghold of their father’s greatest
enemy? What did she seek from the brother of her lover? Did
Laila know of Aubin’s death at their father’s hands? Sianna
thought it likely. Though she couldn’t read Laila’s emotions, an
aura of desolation surrounded her sister that even someone
without empathic skills could sense.
Lost in thought, Sianna walked toward the castle. To her
left, a flash of color caught her eye. She turned and met Zoa’s
puzzled gaze. Before Sianna could call out, Zoa darted away
into the crowd still filling the courtyard. How much had the
child heard? What did she understand? And whom would she
tell?
***
Kyne allowed the warrior woman to enter his chamber in
front of him. Something about this woman tugged at his memory.
He felt he should know her, but her name and appearance were
unfamiliar to him. He would listen before he determined a course
of action.
Having refused his offer to refresh herself first, she strode
into the room still wearing bloodstained clothing. Her face and
hands bore evidence of a battle recently fought. As if
convenience meant more to her than vanity, she’d hacked off
her dark hair close to her head. Stiff with sweat and grime, the
color was impossible to determine. Only the proud tilt of her
head, her rigid spine, and the fire burning in her eyes kept her
from looking like a refugee of war. No common rebel,
aristocratic blood flowed through this woman’s veins. The feeling
he should know her intensified.
Halfway into the room she whirled to face him. “There is
little time. A caravan left from the Southern Province for the
capital less than a tenday ago. It contains enough supplies and
arms to provision an army. If it reaches DiSanti, our cause is
lost. But if we move quickly, we can take it ourselves.”
“Our cause?” Kyne settled his hip against the table, crossed
his arms over his chest and studied the woman. Suspicion made
him cautious, but hope flickered to life. “What is your name?
Where do you come by this information? And why should you
care?”
“Why should I care,” she sputtered. “Because...”
A knock at the door stopped her. Body going taut, she
reached for the sword at her waist.
“Be easy, woman,” Kyne cautioned. “An enemy intent on
harm would not be likely to knock.”
Some of the tension eased from her, but she kept her fingers
on the hilt of her sword.
“Enter.” Kyne turned toward the door as Graham and Katya
came in.
At the sight of Katya, the woman gasped an unintelligible
word, and the color drained from her already pale face.
Before she collected herself and schooled her features to
mask the pain he sensed inside her, Kyne heard a wealth of
misery in her ragged whisper. Only her eyes reflected her inner
torment. What about Katya had triggered this warrior woman’s
odd reaction?
“Graham Denby and Katya Cathor this is...” Kyne looked
to the woman to supply her name.
“Lisha,” she said.
“Lisha?”
“Just Lisha. I claim no other name.”
Curious. What did she run from or wish to hide by claiming
no family affiliation? “Tell them what you’ve told me.”
In brief, staccato sentences Lisha told Graham and Katya
of the heavily laden caravan and how it could be taken. She
moved to the table and grabbed a map. “If we strike here two
days from now, we can take the caravan.” She jabbed her
finger at the map. “There is no time to waste. If we leave
immediately we’ll just make it. Once the caravan goes through
the pass, it will be met by DiSanti’s guard, and we lose our
chance. He has too many men to risk a confrontation with him
in the open.”
“Why should we trust you?” Suspicion laced Katya’s voice.
“How do you know all this? Perhaps you’re sent here to lead
us into a trap. Why didn’t you go after this caravan on your
own? Why come to us?”
Lisha threw up her hands. “I lead a band of fewer than
fifteen men, not nearly enough to take on a well-guarded
caravan. Three were badly injured when DiSanti’s men
discovered our base. We barely escaped with our lives. The
rest are old men, women and children. To succeed this attack
needs at least fifty men.” She turned toward Kyne and Graham.
“Do you have that many?”
Neither man answered.
“Tell me.” She pulled out her sword and tossed it on the
table. “Either trust me or kill me. You must decide.”
Strong, reckless emotions drove this woman—rage, pain,
vengeance. Kyne could feel her passion shimmering in the air.
Still her information was sound. With caution they could take
the caravan. He looked over at Graham and gave a nod.
“Come, Katya.” Graham took her arm. “We have
preparations to make if we are to leave within the hour.”
“But...” Katya protested as Graham led her out.
After the door closed behind them, Kyne locked eyes with
Lisha. “Do not play us false, or I will kill you.”
Lisha laughed harshly. “I am already dead. My body merely
functions to see DiSanti in his grave.”
“Are you hurt?” Kyne hesitated to send Sianna to this angry
woman. If she learned Sianna’s identity....With one hand Lisha
could break Sianna’s delicate neck. The thought of Sianna dead
shook him to his core.
“Minor injuries only, but I would see the young healer. I
wish her to treat my wounds, so I can ride with your men.”
“Take clean clothing from my chest. Rest a bit. I’ll send up
food and...the healer. Have a care you don’t frighten her. She’s
a gentle soul.” Even as he spoke the warning, Kyne wondered
from where his urge to protect his enemy’s daughter sprang.
***
Sianna watched from the shadows outside Kyne’s chamber
as Graham and Katya emerged. Laila and Kyne remained within.
Fear rooted Sianna’s feet to the stone floor. What did Laila
want with Kyne? Would Kyne discern Laila’s identity?
“I don’t trust her.” Katya pulled against Graham’s hold on
her arm. “And stop dragging me about like a delinquent child.”
“Then cease acting like one. Your brother knows what he’s
doing. For once in your life, instead of fighting him every step
of the way, trust him. He needs your support, not your
antagonism.”
The sound of their argument faded as they moved away.
Sianna stepped out of the shadows and started to leave as well.
The door opened again, and Kyne saw her.
“Sianna.”
Her name on his lips sounded sweet. She stopped with her
back to him. “Yes.”
“The woman’s wounds need tending.”
Laila is hurt! Again, Sianna cursed the fact she could sense