WINDDREAMER (32 page)

"I didn't need to make him look bad! He'd gotten my girl pregnant and left her. It broke her heart. She killed herself when she realized he wouldn't ever marry her!"

"Marry her?" Legion gasped. "Joannie knew better than that!"

"He told her he'd marry her! He said he'd make her his little princess. She told me!"

Conar stared at Teal. He said nothing until the others, save Sadie, realized where his attention had gone. When Teal found the men looking at him, he got uneasily to his feet.

"Is there more to this than what Sadie knows?" Jah-Ma-El asked. "Du Mer? Is there something you want to say?"

Teal shook his head. Tears flowed down his cheeks. He backed toward the door. "I've got nothing to say. Nothing at all."

"Teal weren't in on what was done to my girl!" Sadie sobbed, her loud slurps heart-breaking. "Ain't no man to blame for killing her but Conar McGregor!"

"Teal?" Roget asked.

"I know nothing!" Teal shouted, jerking open the door. He turned, fleeing. "Nothing!"

"Conar?" Legion asked. "What's--"

"It doesn't matter." Conar held up his hand. "The damage has been done. Nothing can change it."

Sadie went berserk with grief. "Oh, by the gods, will you listen to him? All mealy-mouthed and sad-sounding. Do you think me so old I don't know when you're play-acting? All your life you've been fooling people, you demon. You have 'em thinking you're so good and brave."

"That's enough!" Legion yelled.

"Let her have her say," Conar interrupted. "It's been a long time in coming."

"Aye," Sadie snarled, "you've got nearly all of 'em fooled. All but the likes of me! I've always seen right through you. You're vile and evil and mean as sin. You're arrogant beyond belief, thinking whatever woman you want should throw her legs in the air to you! You think you can just crook your finger and have any woman panting and lifting her skirt! Well, maybe you can! Maybe there are women who'd lay with the devil for a few coppers." Her face broke into a malicious grin. "But look what it is you've done to them women when they allow themselves to be used by you!"

Outside the kitchen window, lightning flared through the heavens. A moment later came the booming echo of thunder. A deluge of pounding rain struck the walls of the keep.

"Every woman you've ever had dealings with has suffered because of you."

"Shut your damned mouth!" Jah-Ma-El shouted.

"You've been the pain, sorrow, and death of every woman that's loved you. Beginning with your mama dying because you wouldn't do what you was told, right on down to that wee baby Nadia, who had her throat slit ear to ear because of you!"

Jah-Ma-El jerked Sadie out of Roget's hold and backhanded her. "Shut up!"

She fell to the floor, holding her torn and bleeding lip, then fixed her vicious stare on Conar. "You were the death of poor little Ambie and now you'll be the death of me!" She cackled. "But I ain't never loved you!"

Conar gripped Jah-Ma-El's raised fist. "Leave her alone."

"Conar, the woman is--" Roget began.

"Leave her alone."

"She can't be allowed to stay here," Jah-Ma-El protested.

Conar looked at Sadie. His lids flickered as she spat at him, a thin glob of spittle landing on his boot. He just stood there, trying to understand.

Legion tried to draw Conar's attention away from the hag. "We'll get her out of the keep. We'll--"

"No. This is her home. She was born here, and she'll be allowed to die here. Just leave her alone. Let her go back to work."

"You can't be serious!" Jah-Ma-El bellowed.

Stark pain and guilt ravaged, devastated, Conar's soul, along with agonizing feelings of betrayal and helplessness. But he shed no tears, for he had none left to shed. "But I am serious," he said, his words soft, tortured. "She's never hurt any of you. She's not likely to, now." When he turned away, he met Roget's gaze. "Make sure no one bothers her. I mean that."

"You think I'll forgive you 'cause you allow me to stay?" Sadie yelled as he walked away. "I won't ever forgive you! You've got my gal's blood on your hands! I'll hate you 'til the day I die and curse you after that!"

Conar kept walking, his spine straight, his shoulders squared, but his heart shattered and bleak.

"You killed Joannie and you killed our beloved Liza!"

He stopped dead in his tracks and turned. Sadie filled in the stunned silence with a high-pitched squeal of delight.

"She died because of your evil jealousy. If you'd left her with her
rightful
husband, she wouldn't have been killed. She'd be alive if she'd stayed with the children you made orphans and--"

Jah-Ma-El's fist rammed straight into Sadie's face, cutting off her words.

Conar's entire body quivered with the same ferocity as when he had been strapped to the whipping post years before. He could even feel the sting of the lash dragging across his flesh. His lips trembled, his face blanched with agony, and his hands convulsed at his side.

"Conar?" Legion whispered.

Another crack of lightning shrieked outside; rain battered the window. Booming thunder shook the keep's foundation.

Conar turned to the window, saw the flare of light, and spun on his heel, a groan of agony forcing its way up his throat. Hearing his name shouted behind him, he lunged into the service hall and ran headlong into the main vestibule. He jerked open the front door, barely seeing Meggie as he dashed into the rain.

"Conar!" Legion's bootheels struck the marble floor with sharp raps as he skidded into the main vestibule. "Where'd he go?"

Meggie pointed mutely to the open portal, then watched as man after man fled the keep, running blindly into the storm. She walked to the door, wondering what had happened to her boy now. Peering into the harsh slant of drumming rain, she could barely make out the men standing outside one of the covered walkways and pointing at the sky.

"Sweet Merciful Alel." She drew her shawl around her and took the walkway toward the men. Her heart pounded as she neared them.

"Conar!" Legion shouted.

The men took off running for another walkway. Meggie hurried after them, wading through standing water, frowning at the feel of her slippers getting soaked. She entered the connecting corridor between the smithys and the medical wing just as the men vaulted up the stairs.

"He's on the barbican!" someone shouted.

Meggie felt the blood drain from her face and increased her speed.

Legion gasped for breath by the time he and the others reached the outer stairs and came out on the battlements.

"How the hell did he get up here this fast?" Roget asked, his own breath coming in puffs that frosted the air.

Legion ran toward the southern part of the battlements, to the guard towers and barbican. He squinted into the pouring rain and saw Conar on the top portion of the fortification, his bare feet planted on two of the jagged upthrusts of the crenelated coping. His boots lay discarded at the base of the tower.

"Oh, my god!" Roget gasped as Conar stripped off his shirt.

Legion watched as Conar tossed it away, watched as it caught on a gust of wind and sailed into nothingness.

Lightning zapped the air, stung the ground, shrieked like the dead turning restlessly in their graves. The portion of the North Boreal Sea that passed under the bridge leading into the keep began heaving. Waves lashed upward, licking at the old stones, flowing over the wooden planking of the drawbridge. Below the barbican's cylindrical structure, jagged black rocks shone evilly in the harsh flare of lightning.

"Conar!" Legion shouted, cupping his mouth to be heard above the storm's roar. "Come down!"

High above, Conar spread his arms wide to the heavens, let his head fall back, and prepared to jump to the craggy rocks below.

Meggie stopped on the last step and leaned against the rain-slick stones of the outer staircase. She hung her head, bending over with her right hand on the slimy wall. Rain trickled down the neck of her gown. She panted from the exhaustive climb. A stitch ached her side, pain thudded in her calves, and she wheezed as she struggled to rest. When she heard her lad's name yelled repeatedly, she lifted her head.

"Sweet Merciful Alel." She pushed herself away from the wall. "I'm too old for this."

On the battlements, she saw men huddled together, staring upward, oblivious to the drenching rain. She peered through the gloom, letting her vision go up, up, up, then drew in a breath of sheer terror. Her fat little legs pumped beneath the hem of her soaked gown as she hurried forward.

"Just what is it he thinks he's doing?" she snarled, pushing aside Thom Loure and Storm Jale as she barreled her way through the men.

"Conar!" Legion yelled again. "Please come down!"

The wind staggered Conar on the barbican walkway.

"Please come down, indeed!" Meggie snorted, furiously gripping Legion's sleeve and jerking his arm. When he turned angry eyes to her, she lifted her nose and fixed him with a withering look. "Please come down?" she mimicked.

His face turned livid with rage. "Do you
see
where he is, woman?"

"I see
where
he is, Your Lordship. What
made
him go up there, is what I want to know!"

Legion snarled and cursed under his breath. He jerked his arm from her grasp and pointed toward Conar's precarious stance. "Do you know how dangerous that is? And here you are, asking foolish questions! Get yourself downstairs and leave this to us."

"No!" someone shouted.

Meggie's head jerked upward. Conar inched forward, hooking his toes over the rim of the stone.

"Oh, my god!" Legion whispered. "He's going to jump!"

"Like hell he is!" Meggie shoved the stupid man out of her way. She took two steps forward, cupped her hands to her mouth, and in a voice designed to make a man cringe, she yelled, "Conar McGregor, you stay right where you are!"

Conar actually hesitated at her sharp command.

Legion strode forward. "Woman, I said leave this to us and--"

Meggie spun around and leveled him with a malicious stare. "You want him to jump, do you, Legion A'Lex?"

"You know better!'

"Then, let
me
handle this! The lad'll listen to me where he won't to you!"

"For the love of Alel, Legion, let her try," Jah-Ma-El insisted. "What harm can it do?"

Legion studied Meggie's furious expression. "All right," he said grudgingly. "If you think you can get that stupid shit--"

"Watch your mouth!" Meggie corrected.

Legion blushed. "Go ahead and try it!"

She turned her back on him, walked a few steps closer to the tower, and craned her head to look up. "What are you doing up there?"

Conar stood like a statue, arms lifted to the heavens, palms up, head back, rain falling harshly in his face. His long blond hair streamed with water; his flesh glistened with it. His light brown breeches had turned a dark umber. But he didn't move, didn't even wobble as he offered his body to the flashing fire hurling from the heavens.

"Don't you ignore me, mister!" Meggie yelled. "You turn your butt around and look down at me!"

Conar heard her, the woman he had come to consider one of his own, the woman who had acted like the mother he had been so long denied. Despite the flashing lightning and booming thunder, he heard everything she yelled at him. He also heard the pique in her voice, the fear in Legion's.

But he didn't care. Nothing seemed to matter to him anymore.

"Conar! Goddamn it, boy! Turn your ass around now!"

He lowered his head and stared at the crashing waves below. The jagged points of those beckoning black rocks poked menacingly from beneath the foaming, lashing water. He knew if he fell, he'd splatter like an overripe watermelon.

"If you don't turn around, I'll never speak to you again!"

"If I jump, I won't have to worry about it!"

He flinched at his callous, arrogant words. He could picture Meggie's livid countenance, almost hear her snort of absolute exasperation, and almost smiled. But his smiles, like his tears, no longer came easily. And along with the vision of her anger came the certain knowledge that he scared her. For a woman her age, fright could be deadly. He sighed.

"Why can't I just be left alone?" he whispered. He looked at the heavens, blinking against the water pelting his face. "Can You tell me why, Alel?"

A crooked bolt of lightning sped from the gray, whirling sky. It speared into the depths of the moat, kicking up brackish water.

"Because you're not alone!"
came the answering thunder that jolted the wall on which he stood.

Conar shivered, feeling the cold. For the first time since fleeing the kitchen, he came to his full senses when a blast of arctic wind licked his naked chest. More annoyed than numb, he slowly lowered his arms, denying the heavens his bodily sacrifice.

He bobbled, hearing gasps from the crowd staring up at him. He steadied himself, inched his toes from the overhang, and turned. Instead of looking at those below, he stared across the battlements, his focus going unerringly to the pennants. The McGregor family standard. His and Legion's.

"You are not alone..."
the strange, stiff wind howled again.

He peered down at Meggie's dear face, seeing her instant relief before she schooled her expression into a mask of anger. Again, he almost smiled.

"Get down!" she scolded. "Right now. This instant!"

His lips twitched. She was treating him like a child. His left brow rose. Like the child he was. A guilty blush spread over his cheeks as he looked from one face to the other, and the guilt drove deeper.

Sentian, who helped save his life at the Monastery.

Roget, who saved his life at the Labyrinth.

Legion, who had once shared his own blood and breathed life into him to keep him alive.

Storm, who once took a beating for him because he was too ill to withstand another lashing from Lydon's whip.

Thom, who once took a quarrel meant for him.

Marsh, who saved his sanity many times with his laughing ways and steadfast ingenuity.

Gezelle, who had held him, bathed him, slept with him, loved him, and conceived his child.

Meggie, who treated him like the son she never had, who loved him as much as he loved her.

And off to the side stood the men of the Outer Kingdom, who had given up their country, their homes, their hearths, and their families to come to a strange land to protect him.

"Do you still believe you are alone, Conar?"

No, he thought, he was not alone.

"Nor will I ever allow you to be, my son."

"Well?" Meggie snapped. "What in the blazes are you waiting for? A damned engraved invitation? Come down from there before you're toasted like a meringue!"

He started, his father's long-ago words shooting up to him on a chill current of air. The memory of that storm-swept day when he had wanted to ride to Ivor to be with Liza came back to haunt him. His lips twitched again, and he began climbing down.

Meggie didn't dare breathe until her lad alighted at the foot of the barbican. She glanced at Legion, saw his obvious relief turn to immense anger, and grabbed his arm. "Leave him to me."

She stepped toward Conar, his face emblazoned with guilt, and held out her arms.

"Come here, lad."

Conar hesitated only a fraction of a second before he came forward. As if uncertain, he stopped and looked at her. For a moment, with his hair plastered to his cheeks and forehead, he looked so lost, so helpless. He sank to his knees and put his arms around her waist, turning his scarred cheek into the fabric of her wet gown. Her hands smoothed his wet tresses, and she cooed softly to him.

After a moment, she pulled back. "Well, now. Have you had enough of a bath, or do you intend to stay out here until you're the color of a fish belly?"

Meggie shut the door, blotting out the angry, surprised, confused faces of the men who had followed them to Conar's chambers. She threw the bolt, turned, and folded her arms over her bosom.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Get out of them wet clothes."

Conar looked at her and blushed.

Meggie snorted. "Get those gods-be-damned breeches off. You're puddling up the floor!"

"Meggie, I--"

"Get 'em off, I said! You ain't got nothing I ain't seen before, and believe me when I tell you, Conar McGregor, it's no big deal!" Her nose twitched as his blush deepened to acute embarrassment.

He slipped on a robe, then unbuttoned his breeches, turning so the robe would hide him from her. He stepped out of the damp clothing, secured the robe, then spun around, startled that she now stood beside him.

She snatched the sopping clothing from his hand. "Go on with you. Get in the bed." She draped the breeches over a chair before the fire.

Conar looked at the mattress, down at his bare legs and feet, then glanced at her.

"I'll keep my back turned!" she snapped with exasperation.

Before she could move, however, he took off the robe, crawled into the bed, then pulled the covers to his waist. He sat against the headboard and folded his hands in his lap.

Meggie knew he was waiting. She also knew what had sent him scurrying to the top of that hellish tower. While the relieved crowd had escorted Conar to his chambers, Sentian told Meggie the whole story. Before, she'd felt anger; now, she felt fury. Not with Conar, but with the bitch who'd caused the boy's latest troubles. If there was anything he didn't need right now, it was more trouble. And anyone who gave it to him was permanently placed on Meggie's black list.

But, she thought, as she walked to his bed,
that
would have to wait.

She pulled up a chair and sat down, gazing at him with a steady look that made him lower his head.

"Don't scold me," he pleaded, studying the floral pattern on the coverlet with an intensity that amused her.

"Wasn't planning on it." Her expression softened when he covered his face with his hands. She tugged at the restrictive fingers. "Take down your hands. Come on. Take 'em down." When his hands slid away from his face, he looked at her with such bleak hurt, it brought a moan of sympathy from her lips. "It got too much for you, didn't it? Things went a wee ways beyond your ability to control 'em, didn't they?" His pleading look for understanding cut her to the quick. "I know, baby." She cupped his cheek in her hand. "I know."

"I feel like I'm losing my mind, Meg. A heartbeat at a time."

Meggie smiled. "It feels that way, Sweeting, but it ain't so." She took his hand in hers. "You see this hand, lad? This is one of the strongest hands I've ever seen. And you know what? It's attached to one of the strongest
men
I've ever seen."

"I don't feel so strong, Meggie."

"Maybe not now, but you will. It'll take a while, son. Every sorrow takes time to heal, but it will. Just you wait and see, now."

He looked up at her from the sweep of his lashes. "I have to get out of here. Help me get out of here. Please!"

"On one condition." She laid his hand on the coverlet, but would not let it go. "That you not ever do something so patently selfish and stupid again."

He shook his head. "I won't."

"Or nothing like it, either!"

"You don't have to worry. It
was
a stupid thing to have done."

"Aye, it was!"

"Is there anything else?" he asked.

"I just have two questions for you. Just what was it you were thinking when you was gallivanting up there, or am I flattering you?"

There it was again, he thought, the hair on his arms and neck crinkling. Meggie's words sounded so close to his father's, it was eerie. Were these phrases standard parental reprimands? Did every father and mother use them? Would he do the same when Corbin and Regan and Little Brelan were older? He didn't remember saying such things to Wyn, but then he had not been there when Wyn reached his majority, had not seen the young man in five years, not since he had left him in Chrystallus, madly in love with Shalu's daughter.

"My father used to ask me the same thing," he admitted.

"That's because he, too, probably suspected you was addled!"

"Addled?" he asked, wondering if he may
have leapt over the boundary between sanity and madness for a time.

"Well, maybe not addled," she amended. "Maybe it was just that you'd been pushed one time too many?"

He nodded. Aye, he had been.

"Well, don't you be worrying about it." She stood and adjusted the bedcovers. "You sit right there until Gezelle brings up your food. From today on,
I'll
be doing the cooking in this keep!"

"Meg, you've got the inn. I can't let you--"

"You got no say in it!" She shook a finger at him. "Your brother hired me and that's all there is to it."

"Legion had no right to hire--"

"Jah-Ma-El did!"

"Sadie is--"

"No longer in charge of the kitchens!" Meggie snarled. "And before you get on that high horse of yours that you've been known to gallop on, ain't nobody turned the bitch out of this keep. She's just not going to be allowed to do her dirty work to anyone else as long as there's breath in this body of mine!"

Heat rose in his cheeks. "And just what
will
she be allowed to do?"

"Jah-Ma-El put her in charge of the ladies who do mending and such."

Conar snorted. "She doesn't know the first thing about--"

"Don't matter! You didn't want her thrown to the dogs--where she rightly belongs, I might add!--so we put her where she won't be no danger to no one!"

Conar clamped his mouth shut and stared at her.

"That's better," she said, as if sensing he'd given in. "Harry and me are getting too old to put up with the drunks and sots at the inn, so we'll turn it over to our daughters to run. Since my daughters don't like Dorrie, she can come here to work with the other scullery maids."