The Outcast (5 page)

HE
followed Behlik and the healer into the castle, unsure what else he
should
be doing. What he wanted to do was follow his damned female into the castle and drag her back to the room his sister had assigned him. Then he could get his answers from her, and then explain how their life would be changing in the next few days.

If he knew how those changes would be going. Had to admit he was at a loss here in the demon world.

Behlik carried the girl like she was precious personified, and Marcos supposed that to his friend she was. She was a beautiful girl, underneath all that raggedness.

She’d woken, and stared at the men around her, unspeaking. Another woman had trailed after them, and she said almost as little. The healer led them to a small wing off the back of the castle. “This is where we’ve set up a small Healer’s Hall for the Dardaptoan people. My office is here, Kindara’s—she’s the Chief Healer
and
queen of this realm, and Bronwen and Thaddeus share space as well.”

“Sebastos?” He and Thadd had been age mates so many years ago, friends.

“Yes.” The healer motioned toward an exam table. “You can put her here, Behlik. I wish to examine her, see if I can find the source of this weakness.”

“You all need to leave. Give her privacy,” the woman said. “We do not
know
you. Any of you.”

Behlik
tried to protest. Marcos understood; he took his friend’s arm and pulled him out of the office. “We will wait outside.”

Behlik
paced the small hallway before turning to Marcos a few minutes after the door had shut in his face. “She is so frail. How am I to help her?”

“Wait for the healer’s diagnosis. Then make your plans.” His female had been just as small, just as fragile. What had happened to her? She hadn’t been that weak three years ago, had she? “What do we know of Amyenka?”

“You know as much as I do. Not much has changed in three years.”

“I mean, what do we know about his family? Of that female?”

“What female?”

“You did not see the woman in white? The redhead?”

“I saw her, but I did not recognize her.”

“Amyenka’s sister. I do not know her name.” He didn’t know his
Rajni’s
name. How had that happened?

“Havalana, I believe. The only daughter of the House. She’s sixty or seventy, I think.”

“Young.” A babe, by their standards. None of his people, save for the babes born in the last few decades, were under five hundred.

“If Amyenka’s tribe is the wealthiest in Europe, why is his sister and these people dressed so shabbily? What has happened to them?”
Behlik seemed to be regaining some of his senses, at least.

A good question. “Are you in control of yourself again?”

“Of course. I will wait for the healer and my female. Then she and I will decide what must be done.”

“Best of luck to you with that.” Was that how it worked? They met their
Rajni
and just cleaved together that day? He’d only witnessed a few Rajnis finding each other—most of his warriors still had yet to find their females—but he seemed to remember it being a bit more difficult than that. “I am going to go find that warrior who accompanied them. See if he can answer my questions of these people.”

“Share what you find?”

“Of course.” He always shared his information with his second in command.

But he hadn’t shared the knowledge of
her.

Where was she?

It was time he found out.

**

He figured out the lay of the castle pretty quickly, and it took him only moments to find her people. They were eating, and he watched several of them for long moments.

The women were all beautiful, even for Dardaptoan females.
Dardaptoans were always beautiful women; it was part of their allure. It helped the Dardaptoan people feed from humans in times of old. Humans would be more trusting of beautiful women. They weren’t an old group of Dardaptoans, from what he could tell. Most seemed very young; at least the females.

There were too few males for a group even of this size. And it was obvious from the way the warriors surrounded the women and children, most were unmated.

Yet there were so many children. Why? Most
Rajnis
died if their mate died; rarely did one survive even long enough to raise any children. So where did all these children come from?

And why did the babes eat the simple meal of bread and cheese like it was the first true meal they had had in weeks?

He studied a brunette female and the child next to her for a long moment. Her cheeks were gaunt, weren’t they? She looked half starved. More. Maybe it was the first meal they’d had in weeks?

That saddened him and filled him with shame.

He had never gone hungry; not in five hundred thirty two years.

Had his female?

Where was she?

The male he searched for approached him. Marcos studied him for a long moment. He wore brown
pardus
and
vestis,
without a
hasha
to denote his family. Why?

“You have questions.”

“Many. Where is she?”

“Lana remains with your brother. As
Dahn
of our people she has many responsibilities.”

Marcos looked at the pitiful children. “And she has obviously failed to meet them.”

“Do not speak of that which you cannot understand.” The male’s hand rested upon his sword. “
Dahn
Amyenka has given
everything
to her people. Nearly her own life, and there has been many a night these past three years when she has gone to bed hungry to feed some of our children.”

“Come. Walk with me.” Marcos had to get away from the hungry-eyed children, from the women who stared at him with fear. “Tell me of her.”

“Why do you wish to know?”

“Because I know about her brother, and I know the evil in his soul.”

“Evil that is nowhere in his sister’s heart.”

“Prove it. Tell me of her. Tell me why she fears me.” He headed to the only place he knew in this realm, the grotto. The big male—he still didn’t know the guy’s name—walked at his side.

“I do not know why she fears you. She shouldn’t.
You
owe her great debt.”

“How so?”

“Three years ago? I released you on her orders, and then I returned to her.”

“You her guard dog? Got something going on there?” He would hate to have to kill this man, but the way the jealousy was eating at him, Marcos knew that it just might happen.

“She is my
Dahn.
I serve her as I am able.”

“Tell me, why she looks so ragged and unkempt? When last I saw her, she glowed with good health.” And she would again. As soon as he spoke with the healers and learned what he had to do to care for her. A male Dardaptoan had the right and responsibility for the keeping of his mate.

Marcos might have been a shitty catch for a
Rajni
but he for damned sure wasn’t going to let his
Rajni
down; not if he could help it.

“When last you saw her was the last night she glowed with good health. She almost died that night. At her brother’s hand.”

Marcos stopped walking. “How so? Spare no detail.”

“I will tell you all that she would tell you, and no more. Just know that her brother has put a price upon her head, for her daring to help the women of our tribe. The night you met her, she was trying to distract her brother long enough for these people she now leads to escape him and some of his men. She succeeded, but he nearly beat her to death, flayed the flesh from her body, in the process. She still feels agony at his actions. Ragner Amyenka is a dark sorcerer of strong skill, and he cursed her that night with wounds that will not heal until he is dead. So either that happens soon, or
she
will succumb soon. I do not know how it is that she has lived this long, save the fact that she possesses some skill as a healer.”

“And her body will not let her soul die, no matter how deep the physical pain.”

“That is what I have long suspected.”

“She is my female.”

“I know. I have known for three years.”

“How? I did not know until this eve.”

“Because three years ago when I carried her away from her brother’s city, all she could do was beg me to return to save her male. To save you. She does not remember doing so—she remembers so little of that night—but in her soul she knew what she was doing. She sacrificed
you
to save
them.
And she has grieved for you ever since. Do not hurt her, Marcos Adrastos. If you do, I will run you through without regret.”

SHE
didn’t want to wake up, she finally felt warm for once. But Lana had things that had to be done. She always did.

Her eyes opened.

She wasn’t in her little hut in the village.

And a woman sat beside her, rocking a small babe. A horned babe. Lana sat up as the events of the night before returned to her. “I…”

“Welcome back. How do you feel?” the woman asked.

“I am well.”

“I think we can both agree that you are not. But we will work on that.” The woman smiled. “I am Aureliana, by the way. Sister to Aodhan… and Marcos.”

“Marcos?”

“Your male. He sat with you last night, do you remember?”

She didn’t; she didn’t remember anything after she’d entered the castle. “I don’t know what happened.”

“Exhaustion seems to be the general consensus. Plus whatever was done to your back. Tell me about that.” There was something in the woman’s tone that made Lana comply.

“There isn’t much to tell. Three years ago, my brother found me helping his slaves and their children escape. He found me trying to help your brother as well. As an example to his men he had me flogged. And then he gave me to Pleius to kill. But Pleius didn’t. He carried me to
my
people, and then he returned to help your brother. We’ve been hiding from my brother ever since.”

The woman—Aureliana, Lana would try to remember that—wrapped one hand around Lana’s. Her skin glowed at the contact, and some of the
pain that had plagued Lana for three years lessened. “That’s what I could do for now. The healers will do more when they are able.”