WINDDREAMER (11 page)

Yes, Conar had come only at Legion's bidding, to right a wrong, as was his way. But the close proximity between him and Liza served to reawaken their sleeping passion. Liza had sought him out, Legion knew. She was fascinated by the tales of the man known as Lord Darkwind. Liza's uncontrollable desire for the man, although at the time she had not known it was Conar, had severed their marriage.

Legion flinched, drawing back his hand as Conar's lids fluttered open. He held his breath as the bright eyes turned toward him. Even glazed with pain and fever, they seemed to focus on him. "You have to fight," Legion said. "You can't let go of this world, little brother."

"Tell him he must be strong," Liza said, turning to look at Legion. "Tell him he is bound by chains of love and hope to this world."

"He knows that. Don't you, Conar?" Legion took one of Conar's hands in his own. He winced as he shifted forward, hunching over the bed. "He knows he has to be stronger than he's ever been before."

The sapphire gaze wavered, then returned to Legion's face. Conar tried to speak, his cracked lips splitting and bleeding. Legion dipped his fingers into a tumbler and brought them, dripping with water, to Conar's lips to moisten them.

"Can you drink some water?" Legion looked into a face that didn't seem to understand. "Water?"

"I'll help." Liza walked to the other side of the bed, bent over her lover, and lifted his head for Legion to bring water to his brother's lips.

More liquid flowed down Conar's chin than into his mouth. "Regan?" he croaked.

"He's on his way to Chrystallus," Liza answered. "Brelan put him on the ship that night."

Conar sighed, his heart aching for the boy. If he were to die, Regan would have the memory haunt him every day of his life, just as the angry, thoughtless words he had spoken to the boy haunted him. Conar knew he had to live, if for no other reason.

The boy had done only what he had been commanded, trained, to do; Conar knew that. Regan was too young to understand the complexities of Conar's relationship with Tohre. In his heart, Conar knew Regan was horror-struck by what he had done. He could feel the lad's shame and remorse even from a great distance.

"You have to live to teach him that what he did was not of his own doing," Liza said, apparently hearing his rambling thoughts.

"She's right," Legion agreed. "They tell me the boy went crazy when he saw the damage he'd done."

Conar nodded, his lids flickering shut.

"Conar!" Legion breathed, sitting even closer to the bed. "You are my brother. Nothing and no one should have come between us. Forgive my angry words, little brother. I didn't mean them. They were spoken by a man insane with jealousy."

"I know," Conar whispered, his eyelids struggling in vain to open.

"What is rightfully yours, I gladly return, and will make no further claim." Tears ran down Legion's bearded cheeks. "If I had known you were alive, I would have come for you. I swear it. I would have moved heaven and hell to have brought you back from that torment!"

"Don't cry," came the ragged request.

"I love you. I do. You have to believe that." Legion's voice broke. He clutched his brother's hand. He thought he felt an answering squeeze, but when he looked, Conar had fallen into unconsciousness.

"He knows you love him," Liza said.

Legion saw the remorse on her lovely face. He released Conar's hand and took up his crutches. Bracing himself, he pushed his body from the chair and stood wavering. "If anything changes, have someone get me," he mumbled, swinging toward the door.

Liza wiped away her tears. She had never wanted to hurt this gentle man. He had been a good and loving father, a tender and gentle husband. He didn't deserve the hurt she had caused him. She had made an enemy of a man for whom she still felt great affection, for whom she would always love.

Legion paused at the door. "You used me," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You made do until Conar returned. I can forgive you that, Elizabeth. He was always your first love." His voice hardened. "But what I will never forgive is the rift you've caused between my brother and me." Opening the door, he hobbled across the threshold, leaving the portal open.

Liza slid to her knees beside the bed. She felt her lover's pain as she knew he felt hers. This bond had originally united them, still held them securely together. This special purpose kept them as one, despite all that had gone before. In their search to be together, they had hurt the one man they both deeply cared about.

Kaileel Tohre had tried to have Conar slain. Liza knew why. The sorcerer would have intercepted and imprisoned the soul in the vast limbo of the Void, all alone and lost forever. Her power merging with Conar's was the only thing keeping him alive.

"You are the Keeper of the Wind, Elizabeth Wynth," the Oracle had once reminded her. "It shall be you who will save him from the clutches of the Brotherhood of the Domination."

"But how?" she had asked.

"By blending your power with his. Transmit your power to him. Without the merging, he will never survive what Tohre has planned. Send him your strength or he will be cast into the Abyss for all time."

And she had merged not only her power with Conar's, but her life, as well. She could feel the strand strengthening between them, like an invisible umbilical chord linking her vital life force with his. Like a mother nourishing her child, she fed him power, strength, her very life. This final bond between them she knew would be there forever.

Liza placed her hands on his still hand, kissed the light hair that grew on his forearm. Laying her head on the edge of the bed, she began once more the healing rune.

Somewhere he heard gentle crying and tried hard to call out. The blackness was steadily closing in on him again. A soft sensation trickled over his arm.

Then, from out of the darkness, a glimmer of light hesitated, then sparked into a shaft of beckoning streaks. It was the light to which he looked, and it was the soft trickle of his lover's tears that saved him from the advancing darkness. Then came a soft, mournful sound. It was her gentle crying that brought him out of his slumber and into the bright wash of living.

He opened his eyes and called his beloved's name.

Occultus Noire rose from the floor of the Temple of the Wind where he had been sitting for three days. Neither food nor water had passed the Master Sorcerer's lips since the night of Conar's attack. His non-stop, fervent runes and entreaties to the gods and Their ladies during that time had all but caused him a grave illness. Dark circles haunted his tired eyes. His hands shook as he plowed them through the unkempt mass of silver that hung down his back. He felt exhausted, but his prayers had been answered--Conar was awake and once more as vital as he had been before the attack.

"Master?"

Occultus smiled thinly, beckoning for the little Chrystallusian to join him. "I am well, my friend. A bit weak in the knees, but nothing a good steak will not cure."

Ching-Ching came forward, taking his master's arm when Occultus swayed. "We must get you to the dining hall. The cook has grumbled these last few days that no one has been eating much of her food." A faint grin appeared on the monkey man's thin lips.

Occultus paused in his steps toward the Temple sacristy. "Do you trust that woman?"

Ching-Ching shrugged. "The cook is like any western woman. No respect for her menfolk."

"It is more than a mouth too quick to insult, Ching-Ching." Occultus leaned more heavily on his friend and servant than he would have liked, but his legs felt rubbery, his head light. "Conar has assured me the old woman has treated him so all his life, but there is a vindictiveness in her eyes I think he fails to see."

"Or does not want to."

"We will watch her closely. I want nothing to interfere with the coming battle." When Occultus opened the Temple doors, the bright winter sun took him by surprise. With squinted eyes, he looked at his companion. "Holm has spoken to me of the old woman--he does not trust her, either. See what you can discover about her."

Ching-Ching frowned. "What am I to look for?"

Going slowly down the steps, Occultus felt nauseous. He swallowed against the feeling. "Find out if there is some reason she should dislike Conar. Something, perhaps, from when he was younger. Ask the servants what she says behind his back." His foot slid from the last stone riser, and he staggered, grateful for Ching-Ching's strength that kept him standing. "Thank you, my friend." He looked down the covered passageway that led to the Tribunal. "That is an evil place."

Ching-Ching turned his head toward the padlocked Tribunal Hall. "Du Mer told me Conar wanted to burn it, but was advised against it for fear the rest of the keep would go up in flames along with it."

Occultus nodded. "I can understand why he would want to. Never again will any man have to stand judgment in that horrid place." His eyes went to the whipping post across the courtyard. "
That
should come down as well. See to it!"

Amber-lea turned over in her sleep and sighed, snuggling closer to the warm back in front of her. Wiggling as close as she could get to the heat of Brelan's body, she smiled and opened her eyes, her long lashes fluttering against his bare flesh.

"Are you awake, Milady?" he whispered.

"Aye, Milord."

She moved back as he turned, lifting his arm to bring her into the comfort of his embrace. Her smile widened when he planted a light kiss on her forehead, then drew her closely to him.

"I look forward to waking every day like this," Brelan said, entwining his toes with hers under the covers.

"So do I, Milord." Her eyes widened as the babe inside her moved.

"Ammie?" he whispered in awe, withdrawing his arm and pushing himself up in the bed. He pulled back the cover and put a trembling hand on the slight mound of her belly. As soon as his strong fingers settled on her, the babe leapt again.

Looking into Brelan's brown eyes, Amber-lea saw the hesitant, almost reverent smile begin to stretch across his mouth. As the babe kicked a third time, Brelan's beautiful eyes lifted to hers and his grin became glorious to behold.

He laughed, rubbing her stomach with his palm. "Our son moved!"

A part of her flinched at his words. Although in her heart she had given this child to Brelan, it was actually the seed of his brother, Conar, that grew inside her. Brelan had made no mention of it, had seemed not overly concerned that another man's child grew inside his wife-to-be, but Amber-lea knew there had to be some resentment in Brelan, even if he did not acknowledge it.

"It
is
a boy, you know." Brelan chuckled, looking into her skeptical eyes. "Liza said as much." His superior smile made Amber-lea's heart leap. "Now I'll have a daughter
and
a son." His smile vanished.

Suddenly fearful of the worried look on his face, Amber-lea reached out to him with a shaky hand. "What is it, Milord?"

"We have to marry, Ammie!" he said as though the thought had never before occurred to him.

"You asked me to wed you last eve, do you not remember?" she asked, fear putting a catch in her voice.

"Aye, but it must be soon! Before we depart for battle." He stared at her. "My son will have a name before I leave Boreas!"

Relief spread over Amber-lea, and the first faint stirrings of impending wifehood nuded her. But her internal misery must have caught Brelan's eyes, for he drew her into his arms.

"He is my son. Or at least, he
will
be. Conar will not gainsay me."

"But he is the babe's father. Will he not want to claim him?"

Brelan's eyes narrowed. "I haven't spoken to him about it--there was never time. I'll mention it today. I don't think there'll be a problem."

Amber-lea couldn't be sure.

Liza wasn't surprised when Conar asked for Legion. It had been just under a day since he regained consciousness. She got up from the bedside chair to tell the guards of her lover's request. After sending Storm Jale on his way, she shut the door, her face set in challenge.

"There will be no confrontation," Conar sighed, obviously recognizing her expression. "I will settle this thing between us."

She twitched with unease. "He no longer blames you."

Conar's dark eyes filled with hurt. "I know who he blames. I'll not have him making the kind of remarks he made at Ivor."

Liza clutched her hands in front of her, nervously fiddling with the piping on her skirt. "Conar, your brother loves you, and he feels I have betrayed him. Perhaps I did, but--"

"But nothing. We will settle it between us, Legion and me."

"Do you want me to leave?"

Conar nodded. "And when you see Brelan, tell him I need a message sent to Ciona and I want him to take it."

Liza drew in her lower lip between her teeth and gazed at her lover.

One of his thick gold brows elevated. He sighed, as if expecting the worst. "Tell me."

"It's Brelan and Amber-lea. They wish to marry before--"

"Good!" Conar's smile looked warm, genuine. "The babe should have a name, don't you think?"

"Just like that?"

"Like what?"

"You just agree?" She glared at him. "No shouting or bellowing? No commands?"

His lips twitched. "I'm sending him to Ciona to get his estate in order before I allow him to take Ammie with him there. They can be wed as soon as the banns are posted--in three days, if we post them this morn--but I want her to have a home of her own as soon as they are wed. What's today? Saturday? Ciona is a three-day ride, but if I know Saur, he can make it in two, do what needs, and be back in time to marry his lady on Friday. He can take her to Ciona, stay a few days for his honeymoon, then rejoin us before we go into battle."

During Conar's supremely indulgent speech, Liza stared at him with open-mouthed wonder. The man never failed to amaze her. His eyes glowed with his plan--one he had not bothered to discuss with the two parties whose lives he so merrily arranged--and he smiled as though he bestowed great wisdom on the situation.

"What of the babe?" Liza asked, watching his eyes fall immediately to her belly. "Amber-lea's babe."

"Oh," he mumbled, his smile slipping a notch before he lifted his eyes to hers. "It's a boy, you know."

"I know!" she said in exasperation. "What will you do about it?"

"Ours is a girl."

"Conar!"

He sobered, patting a place beside him on the bed. When she settled, their fingers laced together, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips. "If Amber-lea and Bre want the babe to know his true father, they may tell him. Or if they wish, I shall tell him when the boy is old enough. Otherwise, he will be my nephew and I will love him as I do Legion's brats."

"Legion's brats?" came a growl from the doorway.

Both Liza and Conar jumped, their heads turning simultaneously.

"I meant no--" Conar began.

Legion waved a hand in dismissal. "No offense taken. I've often called them brats myself." His pale eyes swept disdainfully over Liza, then alighted on his brother. "How are you feeling?"

Liza stood, smiling at her lover before moving toward the door. Her eyes met Legion's as she passed, but he pointedly looked away, his gaze settling on the wall. Nervously, she closed the door behind her on the way out.

"You are better?" Legion asked.

"I hurt in one or two of the wounds, but I'll be fine by the end of the week." Conar pushed himself up, wincing.

"Will you be able to walk Amber-lea down the aisle?" Legion grinned. "I overheard."

"You may have to do it for me." Conar chuckled and inclined his head toward a chair. "Can you stay a while?"

"Ah, yes," Legion sighed, moving to the chair. "Our little talk. Why do I feel like I used to when Papa sent for me?"

Conar's smile widened. "It's the room."

Legion looked around. "Maybe so." His own smile vanished. "What are you going to do about Regan?"

Something flickered in the sapphire depths of Conar's eyes. A shadow crossed his face. He tore his gaze from Legion to look at the coverlet across his lap. "I'll have to deal with him when I get back." The soft words sounded remorseful.

"He really isn't to blame in this."

Conar nodded.

"After the attack, Sentian hauled his little ass down to his room and locked him in. I am told he was kept there until Holm could ready the ship for Chrystallus. Gezelle tells me the boy cried and cried, but no one would go to him. Everyone was ordered to stay away."

"By whose orders?"

"Brelan's."

Conar heaved a disgusted sigh. "Sometimes my brothers take too much on themselves where my problems are concerned. I'll speak to him. He had no business treating the boy that way."

Legion shrugged. "You have to understand that everyone was terrified that you would die. That was your own dagger the boy wielded; the only weapon that could have slain you, I'm told. There were some who wanted to hang him then and there."

"Who?"

"You don't need to know. They wouldn't have been given the chance, anyway. The child only did what he had been taught to do, and I don't think killing you was really part of the plan."

Conar's eyes glaze with fury, with something terrifying in the steady, unwavering stare. "I want him, Legion." The throaty demand had been spoken with a calm, icy determination.

Legion couldn't stop a smile from spreading over his mouth. He shook his head at Conar's look of surprise. "I know whom you mean--Tohre. It was just the way you said it. Like the way Papa used to speak when annoyed with one of the Barons--
I want him, Hern!
"

"A bit too pompous, eh?" Conar blushed.

"A bit."

"It can't be helped. I want that bastard's head on a platter. I won't wait any longer for him to plan another vile scheme."

Legion lowered his head. "I wanted to talk to you about--"

"The matter is settled. I'm not angry at you. I understand your hurt. I've lived just such a hurt myself. Remember?" At Legion's nod, he went on. "All I ask is that you not revile her to anyone inside the keep. She does not deserve that."

Legion looked up. For a brief moment, a great resentment made his temple throb. The old streak of fire sparked, and he wanted to wipe the calm, commanding look from Conar's face.

But he knew he wouldn't. He knew he couldn't. He had fought the best he knew how in order to hold the woman he loved, and in the end, he had lost her. Lost her to the man to whom she rightfully belonged. He didn't have a prayer at winning her back, and knew it. He also knew she belonged--had always belonged--with Conar. Though the thought rankled, he accepted it.

"Your love was the stronger," he finally answered.

Conar shook his head. "My love was the chosen destiny. I have a feeling we love her the same."

"Aye, I imagine we do."

"We are to be Joined this eve." Conar watched as Legion nodded silently. "Will you be there?"

"Do not ask it of me."

"I won't. It will be a small ceremony with only the leaders of the Wind Force in attendance. No pomp and circumstance this time."

"That's good. There's no need to call attention to the doing of it, but the people should be told."

"They will be, when we are once more husband and wife."

Conar threw the covers from his legs and, holding his side, tried to swing his legs off the bed. Grimacing, he leaned against the headboard, panting from the effort. He closed his eyes until the pain subsided.

"All you need do is ask and I will help, little brother."

Conar opened one eye and raised its brow. "To piss?"

"I'll help you stand," Legion quipped. "I'll get the pot, even hold you steady while you do it. But I won't hold
it,
nor aim
it,
for you!"