The Outcast (4 page)

MARCOS
accepted his sister’s invitation for his people to set up tents in the outer courtyard. Apparently the demon castle wasn’t quite big enough to hold all of the incoming people, and with his people being mostly unmated males, they were relegated to sleeping outside. He understood it, and the females that did accompany him and their males—those mated pairs were sleeping indoors in a back wing.

And his sister insisted
he
stay inside, in her family wing so that they could visit with one another again.

That made him damned edgy. What was he supposed to do with a family? She’d introduced him to her daughter, a little tyrant who’d declared that he looked like her Uncle Aody, and to his brother’s female. Mallory was a beautiful redhead with a very timid soul hidden behind a fierce exterior. His brother was a lucky bastard—but then again, Aodhan always had been.

She’d welcomed Marcos warmly, but hadn’t made any overtures that he wasn’t comfortable with.

Aureliana had plopped her son in his arms before Marcos could protest. He didn’t know a damned thing about babes. But this one was cute. Even if there were small horns on the kid’s otherwise bald head.

He’d taken the first opportunity he could to give the kid back to Aureliana and escape to the room he’d been assigned. He’d settle in, take a shower in what looked to be antiquated plumbing, and then explore the demon king’s castle. And find his advisors, get their take on this new situation.

Marcos felt edgy and ready to fight. Felt like something was about to happen.

Something that he most likely wasn’t going to like.

Less than an hour later he was back in the damned courtyard. The dais had been removed, but a small crowd of people still occupied the space.

Marcos walked among them, knowing he drew glances in his garb. He’d deliberately worn Adrastos white, and tied a double
hasha
around his waist. Another remained on his forehead, its band of dishonor clearly visible.

If daddy-dearest got here, he wanted to be very clear on where
his
tribe stood.

He wondered if his father and mother would be arriving soon.

He had no real quarrel with his mother, just disrespect for the way she’d failed as a mother. Even in the times they’d lived, there had been good parents and bad. She’d been a poor one, mostly because she was spoiled and self-centered and arrogant. A perfect fit for his father. And neither one was exactly civilized.

Wonder what mummy and daddy would do when they learned they had a demon son-in-law?

It was sure going to be fun to watch. And he’d step in if they treated Aureliana with too much disdain and disrespect. He might not know her well, but she was still his kid sister.

And Marcos was starting to feel the obligation of responsibility. Of family.

He had a niece and nephew after all. He had
heirs.
What was he supposed to think about that?

He studied the group coming through the gates. His top advisor—his closest damned friend, actually—
Behlik stood at the edge of the crowd. Marcos put a hand on the male’s shoulder. “So what’s happening now?”

“A small group from Russia, I believe I heard the guards say. They are young and ragged. Mostly babes and women. Runners brought word a few minutes ago that they were about a mile outside the castle.”
Behlik would be fascinated by the proceedings; he’d long studied the history of their people, and such a massive relocation would thrill his sociologian’s soul. “And I think I am meant to be here, this eve. Something comes.”

“For you, too, my friend?” His friend wasn’t a true prognosticate, but he was related on his mother’s side to the legendary family of fortune tellers. When
Behlik had
feelings
they both heeded.

“Yes. I am not sure what. Perhaps I am to catalog the events of this eve?” He’d written many accounts of the European Dardaptoans, and those books probably now waited in the other male’s tent.

Marcos studied the group of refugees. And they for damned sure looked like refugees. Unlike the rest of the Dardaptoan tribes he’d learned had arrived today, this one looked horrible. Unhealthy and poor. Abandoned. Who led such a group?

The children looked starved, the warriors even worse. The women were all pale and wild-eyed with fear. “Dear goddess…”

He wasn’t even aware he’d said it until Behlik agreed. “They look so pitiful. Poor things.”

His brother walked at the lead, next to a small woman in white. Another male dressed in healer blue walked on the woman’s other side.
He
carried a young woman—a girl, perhaps—in his own arms. His brother carried a small child of about three.

The woman in white had her head held high as befitting a
Dahn.
If she was one, and since she was the only one dressed as royalty, he assumed she led these people.

She’d apparently done so poorly.

He stepped through the crowd, aware of Behlik at his side. His friend said nothing, but he stopped in front of the healer.

“Is she well? Has she been harmed?” Panic was in
Behlik’s words. Marcos studied his friend. In five hundred years, he’d never heard
panic
from Behlik.

“
Behl?”

“Healer, the girl? Is she well?”

The parade stopped and the woman in white stepped in front of the healer. “She rests. And what concern of it is yours?”

Yeah, what concern was it of
Behlik’s?

“What is her name, at least?”
Behlik held out his arms for her, just as the girl’s eyes opened.

“
Behl? Something you needst tell us?” Marcos asked, softly.

“I think you know what I suspect.”
Behlik gained control of himself and bowed to the woman in white. “I am Behlik Arios. I suspect the woman he carries is my
Rajni.
I forgot my manners in my surprise.”

“
Behlik, it has been years,” Aodhan spoke now, and Marcos wondered if big brother had noticed
him
yet. “I see you’ve fared well.”

“Hello, Aodhan. I have. But am better now in this moment than I have been in a long time.”
Behlik held out his arms and the healer understood.

The woman in white didn’t. She gasped, and tried to interfere.

Marcos wrapped a hand around her arm and pulled her out of the way. If the girl was Behlik’s, he deserved to care for her and not the healer. It was his right.

Marcos turned his attention to the woman in white.

She was small, barely bigger than a child. He’d never seen another Dardaptoan female quite so small, but she was full grown. She had red hair and freckles, though the hair needed brushed and probably washed from what he could tell.

Her clothes needed replaced and quickly. They were stained and torn and nowhere near thick enough for the fast approaching winter.

She looked up at him with terrified eyes and a mouth that trembled. “Let me go.”

“I do not think I can do that.” His words were slow, all of his attention focused on the ragamuffin he held.

So delicate beneath his hand, so fragile, and vulnerable.

So not what he wanted. So not
who
he wanted.

He dropped her arm and stepped back, putting space, air,
anything,
in between them.

He knew who she was, and he for damned sure didn’t want her anywhere near him or his people. “Lady Amyenka.”

Absolute terror hit her face. “
You!”

WHY
was she so damned afraid of him? He hadn’t left
her
locked in a horse stall to be executed at dawn.

A male stepped through the crowd, and stood at her side. His hand was on the battered sword at his waist.

Marcos recognized him as the male who’d freed him three years ago from Ragner Amyenka’s stable. The other dhar had taken great fun in his mock trial and torment of Marcos and the woman he’d accompanied into the Amyenkan city. Marcos bowed to the warrior, a true sign of respect. The man had acted as a traitor to his own Dhar to free Marcos and Belea, Behlik’s young sister. It had not gone forgotten.

“
Dahn
Amyenka, let us get you inside. Your people need rest after porting,” Aodhan said, his tone soothing. Grating to Marcos’ ears.

The Amyenka female did not acknowledge his brother, but continued to stare at Marcos. She was shaking—he could see the tremors wracking her body so hard it was a wonder she could stand.

“Lana,” the warrior wrapped a hand around the woman’s arm and turned her toward him. He leaned over her protectively in a way that burned Marcos’ gut. “Let us find something to eat; we can rest and then discuss our options. Come.”

Her eyes were still on Marcos, though she nodded at the warrior’s words. The warrior kept his hand on her shoulder when she turned away.

He fought to keep a hiss from escaping.

No one
should be touching her.

No one but
him.

Marcos then fought a curse as he realized the direction his thoughts had gone. Had he touched her three years ago when she’d first come to the horse stall to tell him that she would free him later that night? Was that why he hadn’t realized what he now suspected?

He did not think so. She had seemed so skittish that he hadn’t tried.

She’d been dressed in royal clothing, then, as well. But the clothing had fit her better back then.

He watched her walk away with her warrior protector. The male must have known Marcos still stared; the warrior turned and lifted his chin in definite message. They would talk, and before the night ended.

In the meantime, Marcos needed to plan. To reevaluate.

To determine just what he would be doing with the fragile female who’d betrayed him three years ago.

His
Rajni.

**

She’d lived with the knowledge that her
Rajni
was dead for three long years. That knowledge, and the knowing that
she
had been responsible for his death at her brother’s hands had nearly driven her mad. Had it not been for the people dependent upon her, she would have been dead years ago just from the grief.

She had grieved him every single day since she had left her home. Since she had let him
die.

But he hadn’t died, had he? He had been whole and healthy the entire time. And he hadn’t come for her.

What did that mean? Was he her
Rajni
or not? Hadn’t he known that night, too? Didn’t it work that way?

She’d taken one look at him in her brother’s prison and known that he was the one the goddess had meant for her. She’d been so overcome with emotion she’d barely been able to speak then, either. Had just told him she’d help him, would come for him when she could.

He’d grinned at her, and thanked her. Promised he’d be waiting for her.

But she’d never made it back to him, and she’d grieved for what must have happened to him.

“How did he escape from my brother?” She whispered the question to Pleius. “I thought him dead.”

“I released him. You do not remember?”

She shook her head. “No… I remember promising to help him, and then… Hial was hurt, and the women were gathering… and…”

“After you were hurt, you begged me to return and help him. I did, then
came back to you and the rest.”

“I don’t remember… what did I tell you?”

“That he would die if we left him and that you had promised. You were near distraught over him when you had more pressing worries facing you. Like surviving the night…”

“I do not remember.” She didn’t remember much about that night after she’d made the decision to deliberately anger her brother. If he’d turned on her, he’d not go looking for one of his other victims. Buying those victims the time they’d needed to leave the city.

She’d fully expected to die that night, and had it not been for Pleius and Loreane she would have.

As it was she still hurt from the torture her brother had inflicted upon her.

The big warrior Aodhan led them through the back entrance of the castle and into a small chamber. Several people waited inside, most dressed in the white of Dardaptoan royalty. Many had
hashas
the same color as the one around Aodhan’s waist. His family, then.

“Who was that man outside?” Lana asked Aodhan. He’d worn turquoise, hadn’t he? Turquoise with a strange band of black.

“That was Marcos, my brother. I did not know he would be here today. You know him, do you not?”

“We met… once.” Why had he glared at her so? Did he hate her because of her brother? She wouldn’t blame him if he did. “My brother had him imprisoned.”

“I see.”

Would he break his vow because of what her brother had done? “I sent Pleius to free your brother. Please don’t be angry with—“

Even she heard the pleading.

Aodhan held up a large hand. It took every ounce of strength she had not to flinch away from him. His eyes darkened and he studied her for a moment. “I will never be angry at your people for something your brother did. You will be safe here, D
ahn
Amyenka. Do not forget this vow. Come, meet my female and my sister. They will help you get settled.”

She nodded, then looked at her people. They were so tired. How had a simple hike of less than a mile tired so many of them? “My people are hungry,
Equan
Adrastos. And I have nothing which to buy them food. We have little clothing and many of our children go without shoes. We could not enter a town or city for fear that my brother would have spies to catch us, or someone in the town would betray us for the not inconsiderable bounties upon our heads. I pray you this, this new world is a new chance, a new beginning for us.”

He held up another hand and a servant came to his side. “Have food prepared—Dardaptoan food—for these people.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Thank you.” He looked back at her. “If your people will accompany the servants into the main dining room, food will be prepared shortly. You will eat with my family while we decide what is needed for your people.”

“Thank you.”

Pleius wanted to protest, but Lana sent him a look. He would be staying with their people, guarding and guiding in her stead.

After her people were gone from the room, the chamber seemed so much larger. Aodhan led her to the demons and Dardaptoans who sat waiting near the fire. A dark-haired woman sat rocking a babe in the chair closest to the warmth. She smiled when Lana and Aodhan approached. “Brrr.  I hate the cold. Aodhan, did you see who has joined us here in the demon world?”

“I saw him. Still as arrogant as ever. Always was. Has Nalik returned from the South Americans, yet?”

“Not yet.” A young woman in white said. She had long, dark brown hair that curled and bright green eyes. And her skin nearly glowed. She was breathtaking. “He promised to be home before bed, though.”

“If my father and grandfather cooperate. They are…”

“I know what they are like.” The woman—barely out of girlhood—looked toward Lana. “Hello, I’m Cassandra.”

“Havalana Amyenka.” Lana bowed.

Another woman stood and Aodhan stepped up to her. He hugged her and she laid her head on his shoulder. His female, probably. He looked back at Lana. “This is my female, Mallory, and my sister Aureliana. They will help you and your people get settled. Auri, where are the demon and Kindara? I have much to discuss with them this evening.”

“In their private chambers. Ren, too. Thas and I decided to wait for your return. And to keep Mallory and Cass company while they waited.”

“Mal, my love, will you accompany Lana and I? Or do you wish to adjourn and rest?”

“I am not fragile, Aodhan. I am just nauseated. I’ll walk with you.”

“I am a male, my love, it is my right to worry for my female.”

“To hover. Lana, please ignore my
Rajni’s
overbearance. He forgets that he is not in charge of everything. How can I help you this evening?”

“I—” How was she to respond to these people? “I—”

“You are very tired, aren’t you? We can get you in a room and you can rest. I promise it shouldn’t take long. And you can eat, of course. We can order you a tray while we talk, if you’d like.”

She would like that. The thought of real food again had her stomach cramping so harshly. “My people… I must see them settled before I worry for myself.”

“Do not worry. I shall see to your people. My
Rajni
is the high prince of this castle, and I’m good at organizing.” the woman with the babe said. Aodhan’s sister.

His
sister. Lana looked at her quickly. Yes, the resemblance was there.

What would these people do if they learned she thought their brother was her
Rajni
? Would they hate her?

She was not like them. She was dirty and poor and unkempt. They all glowed with health and vitality. They had everything, and she had nothing.

It took every bit of strength she had to take another step. The walk had weakened her greatly, and her body was pained, like it always was this late at night and in the cold. She needed rest before she could do anything else. But how was she to tell them all?

“I—I am so sorry… but I…” Her eyes closed and she felt her legs buckle. She heard Aodhan’s curse. His hands caught her before she slipped to the floor.