Eleanor (74 page)

“They punished you,” he whispered in horror. Unable to stop the tears now, Eleanor nodded. “Will, she’s bleeding,” Freddie said, unable to drag his eyes from the blood. Will moved to Eleanor’s side, raising an eyebrow at Freddie’s blood-stained hands and arms. He moved behind her and she heard him gasp.

“Freddie, she needs to lie down,” he said with forced calm. Taking her hand, Freddie led her to the rug.
 

“Eleanor, lie down,” he said softly.
 

“She needs to lie on her front,” Will ordered, stating the obvious in a flat, empty tone while rummaging through his supplies for what he needed. Eleanor dropped to her knees. The jolt making her whimper again, and behind her she heard another gasp.
 

“What happened?” Amelia asked of no one in particular, horror raising the pitch of her voice and making it wobble.

“They punished her for exploding a tree,” Freddie told her in an empty voice, helping Eleanor to drop forward. She moved her arms under her head. It hurt. Resting a tear-streaked cheek on her arm, she sighed as Freddie gently stroked her hair.

“You let them do this to her?” Merl asked. He sounded traumatised. Conlan gave no response. Eleanor felt an energy string brush against her and Will’s furious presence filled her head.

He let them do this?

Eleanor sighed.
No, Will, I let them do this. I could have stopped them if I’d wanted. I made the choice to submit.

Why? You’re a mess.

This was worth it, I promise.

He had no right to ask it of you.
Eleanor cringed as Will’s anger and hurt battered against her – on top of her own pain it was too much and she started crying again.
 

I’m sorry you’re upset, Will. Please don’t be angry with me, I don’t think I can take it just now.
She briefly felt Will’s guilt, before shuddering as his loving affection for her flooded through her body as a warm glow, wrapping round her carefully and separating her from the pain. He gingerly pulled up her shirt and began cleaning her back with an antiseptic that should have had her screaming in agony, but with Will supporting her mind, numbing the sensations, all she felt was a mild stinging.

I’m not angry with you
,
Will said.
I’m angry with Conlan for putting you in this position. I don’t like seeing you in pain.

I told you, Will, this was my choice
–
and it was worth it.

So you said, but tell me, is any of this ‘benefit’ your pain has brought going to directly benefit you?
Shocked by the anger she could still hear in his voice, Eleanor was silent. When she did not respond, Will continued.
I didn’t think so. You made a deal, agreed to suffer to help Conlan and he let you. Do you understand why I’m angry?

Eleanor felt her own anger rising. Will was being an idiot; he knew how important this was.
It was my plan, Will, my idea. I’m quite proud of it actually, and anything that benefits Conlan benefits us too, you know that. I don’t understand. Conlan made a deal and agreed to suffer in order to help Amelia. And you let him… you talked him into it. How is this different?

Will rubbed a little too hard over one of the thick, bloody welts that went across her lower back and round her side. Even with him keeping the pain at bay, Eleanor felt it and cried out.

 
Sorry
, Will said.

Actually, Will, I’m really impressed
–
you’re talking to me, keeping the pain away and treating my injuries all at the same time.

Who says men can’t multi-task? And you’re changing the subject.

Eleanor sighed.
I don’t want to talk about it anymore, what’s done is done. We can’t change it.

How much are you going to give for a man who offers you nothing in return?
Will asked in serious concern.
Where does it stop?

It stops when my heart stops beating, and possibly not even then
, Eleanor said with a calm, steely resolve.
And don’t you think you’re being a little hypocritical, especially given what you were prepared to do for Amelia?

Eleanor, Amelia loves me in return, we have a relationship. She gives me so much; what do you get from Conlan?

A lot more than you think
, Eleanor snapped.

Will snorted.
I hope so, because from where the rest of us are stood he’s an uncaring, unfeeling, merciless bastard.

No, Will, please don’t think that.

Will huffed in exasperation, pulling his energy string free. Hot pain poured through her again. She winced but forced down her whimpering cry. Will tenderly pulled her shirt down over her back again. Freddie lay down next to her, his arm a pillow for her head so she could move slowly into a more comfortable position.
 

“Will, her hand needs attention, too,” Freddie said in a pain-filled, brittle voice. Confused, Eleanor looked down and saw the half-moon bite mark she had left across the first knuckle and the side of her right hand, the ripped skin oozing blood in a steady pulse with her heartbeat; she had not even noticed it. Will knelt at her side and lifted her hand up slightly, not wanting to move her shoulders.
 

“You bit yourself?” he asked, his voice calm and clinical, despite the tension Eleanor could see in his body.

“I was trying not to scream like a baby and make an utter fool of myself,” Eleanor muttered.
 

Will frowned but said nothing more. He cleaned her hand, wrapping a bandage tightly around it. “It really should be stitched. It’s a deep wound, but your teeth haven’t left a neat enough edge, so you’re going to have to be careful, OK?” he ordered, giving her a stern look.
 

Eleanor nodded. She felt so tired. Freddie’s arm was comfortable, and her eyes closed. Freddie covered them with a blanket. She tensed as the material fell across her, but it did not hurt as much as expected, as her back felt strangely numb. She wondered what Will had treated her with and why he had not used the same stuff the last time he had given her stitches. Maybe it was something Kona had told him about.
 

“Is she going to be OK?” Conlan asked, his voice as emotionless as Eleanor imagined his face to be.

“No. She’s in pain, she’s scarred for life and she’s so totally besotted with you that she thinks this was a good idea!” Will snarled at him.

“Will…” Conlan started.

“Shut up,” Will barked. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Eleanor wanted to explain, wanted to tell Will to leave him alone, but she was drained and her body would not follow her commands. The peaceful inky black was sucking her down, like water down a plug hole.

She was in the middle of a strange dream about being in the thick of battle, standing over Conlan’s fallen body. Defending him. Her sword swung desperately around her at the enemy, a dark, faceless hoard. In her dream Eleanor felt something brush against her fingers and she looked down. Conlan was conscious and stopping her fighting because he was holding her sword hand, the blade immobile in front of her. She woke with a start, pain making her wince. It was quiet. Freddie’s soft snores and the slow deep-sleep breathing of the others were the only sounds.
It must be late or really early.
Opening her eyes she found Conlan lying on his side next to her, pained green eyes staring back. Hidden under their blankets she could feel his fingers gently brushing up and down hers, stopping where the bandage started. It was a small, comforting movement, loving almost. Her need for him flowed through her. Ignoring Will’s advice, she grasped Conlan’s hand and held it tight. The delicate scab that had formed split open and blood began soaking her bandage, but she did not care. She wanted him to know that it was alright, that she was alright. She smiled at him and he slowly smiled back. She reluctantly released his hand, not wanting him to feel the blood; it would only upset him. He moved his hand forward slightly, resting it on her forearm and gently rubbing her skin with his thumb. Eleanor relaxed, sighing in pleasure and closing her eyes.
This is what Will and the others don’t see, this is why they don’t understand
,
she thought, before she allowed the darkness to pull her back down into a deep, restful and dreamless sleep

The bolt thrown back in the lock woke Eleanor with a start. Her body tensed and pain shot through her. She whimpered, struggling to get up. Everybody else was awake. Conlan was watching her from against the wall. He did not look like he had slept. The others seemed to be ignoring him, although Merl shot him an angry glance as Freddie helped her to sit upright.
 

Eleanor smiled. “You let me sleep?”
 

Freddie nodded. “You looked like you needed it, looked so peaceful, so relaxed, we didn’t want to wake you.” Eleanor felt the ghost of Conlan’s touch on her arm and sighed. The door was opened and warm sunshine washed over her, reminding her there was a world outside. The light was too bright, so she closed her eyes but did not turn her face away, feeling the joy of it wash through her. She knew the person who had opened the door may well be the traitor come to kill her, but for a few seconds it did not matter. A figure in the doorway blocked the light.

“My lady Laurice asks for you to make good on your promise, Avatar,” a high squeaky voice spoke in an attempt at a harsh, nasty tone.

“Hello, Harnlyn,” Eleanor said quietly, smiling at him. It must be afternoon already, as the traitor had made no move on her, unless this
was
the move, but Eleanor really could not see Harnlyn as a devious mastermind. She staggered painfully to her feet and walked towards him. Freddie stood, joining her.
 

“What are you doing?” Eleanor asked, glancing at him.

“Coming with you,” Freddie said.
 

Eleanor’s heart squeezed, horrific scenarios running through her overactive mind – the traitor attacking, Nials and his men fighting back, Freddie caught unknowing in the middle. She shook her head.
 

“No, stay here, you can’t help me with what I need to do,” she said, pushing him back with a hand on his chest. It was like pushing a brick wall.

“I’m coming with you,” he said again. There was focused determination in Freddie’s face. Harnlyn shoved him back so he could reach Eleanor, pulling her arms behind her back to tie them. She was unprepared for the rough movement, and the pain ripped up her back. She cried out, tears immediately flowing, and staggered, feeling weak and dizzy. Only Harnlyn’s bruising grip on her arms kept her upright.
 

“No sharp comment, child?” he gloated.

“It would be a waste of my breath, you are too stupid to understand my better insults,” Eleanor snarled, unable to stop herself and knowing it was a bad idea to bait him, but she did not want him thinking he had beaten her. Harnlyn let out a high, frustrated yell, which sounded like a woman in pain. With considerable force he flung her into the wall. Pain exploded claymores in her head. Through dazed, half-open eyes she watched Freddie launch himself at Harnlyn, pounding his fists into the man’s surprised face. Will pulled Freddie off his bleeding, struggling victim and dragged him back, his arm firmly across his chest. Thankfully, Will had reacted before the two guards who had followed Harnlyn through the door had recovered from their shock enough to take matters into their own hands. A body crouched in front of Eleanor, blocking her view, hands roughly propping her up, dragging her back against the wall behind. Pain roared through her and made her body twitch involuntarily. She sobbed weakly.

“Sorry, Eleanor, are you OK?” Merl asked. Eleanor could see Conlan beyond Merl’s shoulder, his body rigid, forcing himself not to intervene.

“What is going on here?” The deep voice echoed around the room, carrying the assumption of absolute authority. Surprised, Merl turned to face it and Eleanor got a view of this new stranger. It was another tall man with ebony skin, but not someone she had seen before. This man seemed older; his short cropped black hair had flecks of grey through it. He carried his strong, thick body with the confidence of one who knows his every order will be obeyed. He glanced disgustedly down at Harnlyn, before stepping over him towards Eleanor.
 

“Move,” he ordered Merl in a voice of velvet-clad steel. Still staring in surprise, Merl stood up and moved out of the way. The older man crouched in front of Eleanor, his strong, unflinching gaze holding hers.

“I am Berick,” he said, the growl he put through the Dwarfish implying a meeting of equals.

Eleanor assessed him. Cunning intelligence looked back from deep black eyes. He had the same elaborate ritual scaring under his eyes as Laurice, Urerla and Yatt.
A member of Laurice’s family?
Without thinking, Eleanor raised a hand to his face and gently ran her fingers over Berick’s scars.
Like reading Braille.
She smiled at him, he smiled back and she knew, without a doubt, that this man was the traitor. A strange calm followed this realisation. She would react quicker if she was relaxed.

“I am Eleanor,” she said, annoyed at how fragile she sounded. He took her hand as she withdrew it from his face and gave it a gentle, friendly pat.
 

“I know who you are, Eleanor, Avatar of Earth. A woman of remarkable talents. My sister Laurice has told me what you are going to do, and I thought I would come and take you to meet Meran. Harnlyn cannot be trusted to behave in an acceptable fashion,” Berick said, giving Harnlyn a contemptuous glance. Harnlyn looked back reproachfully, rubbing his jaw as he got to his feet. Firm hands took Eleanor’s arms, helping her to stand, but the room spun; her overtaxed body headed towards shutdown. As she staggered, she was caught and lifted off the ground, held carefully against a strong body, arms trying to minimise the contact with her back, her head falling onto a shoulder. Merl, she realised. She looked over Merl’s shoulder and caught Conlan’s eye. She saw understanding. He flicked his gaze to Berick and Eleanor gave him a tiny nod.