WINDREAPER (35 page)

All through the night, the men from the Outer Kingdom took turns holding Conar beneath the strong flow of icy water. They rejoiced when he stirred, groaned when he fell back asleep. Three times he had crossed over from the place of no light to the land where light glowed only at the edges. Near dawn, he had awakened sufficiently enough for Cayn, who once more stood vigil with the others, to order him put to bed with a strong command that he was not sleep.

"Get that damned tea Jah-Ma-El ordered down his throat!" the Healer snapped. "He might choke on it, but, it doesn't matter! He can't be any closer to death than he is right now!'

Conar drifted in and out of a state of semi-awareness. Tea dribbled down his chin and onto his chest. Fresh shirts were pulled over his head, his face washed, and he only mumbled incoherently.

The men of the Wind Force stood at Conar's bedside, taking turns caring for him, while The Outer Kingdom Warriors, huddled in thick blankets, mugs of some colorless, odorless liquor in their beefy hands, sat vigil in the corner.

* * *

By midday three days later, Conar was awake enough to know where he was, and was not happy about it. When he realized one of his ankles was chained to the footboard, he was particularly outraged. He was in his room, a room he had never wanted to see again, for it was the room where he and Elizabeth had slept, and made love, as husband and wife. He jerked against the chain and screamed his fury.

"You'll live," a dry voice called from the half-open door. "Anyone who can screech like that can't be dying."

"What the hell am I doing here?"

"It's called recuperating." Roget stepped into the room and turned to Legion, entering behind him. "He's his usual merry self."

"Who the hell chained me to this damned bed?"

After shutting the door, Legion A'Lex came to stand by the bed. He said nothing, just stared at Conar with an unemotional, detached look on his bearded face.

"Did you have me chained to this fucking bed, A'Lex?" Conar snarled. His yelling had tired him out as though he was an old man.

Legion didn't say a word.

Roget pulled a chair toward the bed and straddled it, leaning his forearms on the chair's back. "He wanted to know what he's doing here."

"I suppose he thought he'd be somewhere else by now," Legion remarked dryly. "Somewhere safer than here."

"Fooled him, didn't we?" Roget laughed.

"Will one of you tell me what I'm doing here, chained to this fu—"

"Another outburst like that and we'll leave," Legion said.

Conar tried to ignore the throbbing pain in his head. He was sick to his stomach. His hands shook so badly when he ran them over his stubbled face that he had to put them to his sides. The rash on his chest and arms burned like a fire out of control, making him squirm with intense agony. He looked into his brother's uncompromising face and clamped his mouth shut on the shout threatening to erupt.

"Are you coherent enough for me to talk to you?" Legion asked. "Can you understand what I'm saying?"

"I'm not deaf."

Roget chuckled. "No, not deaf, just stupid."

"And he did a particularly stupid thing that caused a lot of good people trouble," Legion commented.

"You shouldn't have stopped me." Conar turned his face away from Roget's scrutiny.

"Ungrateful pup, isn't he?" Roget laughed.

Legion sat on the edge of the bed and grasped Conar's chin. When Conar tried to jerk away his head, Legion increased the pressure. "Be still!"

Again, Conar tried to pull his chin free, but Legion's cruel fingers bit into Conar's flesh. Putting up a trembling hand, he was about to pry away his brother's fingers, but Legion's cold voice stopped him.

"Put your hand down!"

Ignoring the command, he put his fingers over Legion's hand only to yelp when the pressure on his chin became a crushing grip.

"I said put you hand down!" Legion punctuated each word with a sharp jerk on Conar's face. Conar's hand dropped tiredly to the coverlet. Giving Conar's chin one final, vicious tug, Legion released him.

"I think you got his attention now," Roget quipped.

"He thinks he can do whatever the hell he wants," Legion snapped. "I'm going to prove to him that he can't."

"You told me to leave, A'Lex!" Conar snarled. "Why'd you stop me?"

"Because I didn't want to give you the satisfaction of doing what you wanted. I made sure you'd live so you'd have to atone for all the grief you caused by that one thoughtless, selfish act!"

"No one cared whether I lived or died. Not after what I did."

"Not only ungrateful, but overly melodramatic, as well," Roget taunted. "Shall I have violins brought in, Legion?"

"It's no laughing matter!" Conar shouted with what waning bit of strength he had left.

"
That
you have right!" Legion hissed. "It was no laughing matter what you did to Liza, nor what you attempted to do to yourself. None of us felt like laughing while we tended you these last three days, cleaned up your puke and piss and shit like you were a babe! We didn't laugh when we had to hold you down when you went into convulsions, or when we poured tea down your ungrateful throat! We sure as hell weren't laughing every time you closed your eyes and wouldn't open them!" Legion put his face close to Conar's. "We never left your side until this morn when Cayn said it was safe to do so. Then you were sleeping normally and not in that self-induced drugged slumber. We prayed and begged and pleaded with every god known to let you live. We did everything in our power to keep you from dying!"

"Why bother? I'll try it again, and next time you won't be there to stop me!"

* * *

Legion itched to grab his estranged brother and shake some sense into him. Instead, he stood and walked toward the window. He was so furious, he didn't trust himself to speak.

Roget also stood, swinging his long leg over the chair. "That goes to prove what I've known all along, Conar—you're stupider than I thought if you think Legion, or any of us, will allow you to try that stunt again."

"You can't stop me!"

A frosty smile of evil humor lit du Mer's face. "We'll just see!" He stormed from the room.

Complete silence reigned when du Mer left. Legion turned his back to Conar and gazed over the garden, watched water rushing to shore beyond the bars of the sea gate. Though he was angrier than he had ever been, he didn't want to show that anger, or the despair, eating at his soul. A decision had been made among the brothers—Brelan, Jah-Ma-El, and himself. Even as he stood looking through the window, the plan had been set into motion.

Squaring his shoulders, he turned and met Conar's dull, vacant gaze. Taking a deep breath, he prepared for the battle of wills he knew would come. He walked to the bed and put his hand on the headboard. "You've noticed that you're chained."

Conar glared at him. "I noticed."

"And those chains are iron." When Conar only stared with contempt, Legion nodded toward the manacles. "Iron forged so not even your magic can break it?"

Conar didn't answer, just scratched at his chest.

"Do you wonder why we've taken such a precaution?"

"The thought crossed my mind."

"Well, at least you're capable of thought. That's an improvement on the stupidity of a few days ago."

"Just unchain me and I'll leave! That
was
what you ordered me to do!"

"You aren't going anywhere—alone." Legion smiled, but the smile was grim, humorless. "First thing Monday morning, Jah-Ma-El, Brelan, Teal, Roget, and I are taking you to Ivor Keep. Shalu and Sentian are already there, and Storm, Marsh, and Thom are on their way." He shrugged. "Unfortunately, Ching-Ching was called back to Chrystallus."

"Why are you taking me there?"

"I thought that was obvious."

"Damn it!" Conar exploded. "Not to me, it isn't!"

Legion's smile slipped from his face. "Then let me explain it in simple terms. The garrison I had stationed at Ivor Keep has been sent to Zephyrus and Eurus. There is a skeleton crew of hand-picked servants to do the cooking, cleaning, and wash, but no one who would interfere in what we have planned."

"That being what?"

Legion ignored the question. "Something else that is
not
at Ivor Keep is liquor. No liquor, no drugs. And there will be no one who will either brew, gather, buy, or procure anything for you. In other words—the keep is dry."

* * *

Conar drew in a long breath. They meant to purge the drugs and liquor from his system, and he knew all too well how excruciatingly difficult the withdrawal could be. With his body beginning to burn, he was already beginning to feel the stirrings. "Don't do this, Legion."

"I can and I will!"

"You have no idea what being without the drug will do to me." Just the thought of it made Conar scratch harder at his prickling flesh.

"Marsh told me what he went through. I know it's not going to be easy, but we will be there. We can—"

"You can't do this, Legion!"

"Someone has to help you or you'll wind up killing yourself."

Conar began to itch so badly, he clawed mindlessly at his chest and arms. "I can do it on my own. A little at a time! I can decrease the dosage. I can go almost an entire day without it now."

"Will you listen to yourself?" Legion's brows drew together with concern. "Look at what you're doing to your arms! They're bleeding! Ching-Ching says you've got enough of that poison in your system to last nearly two more days."

As he contemplated being made to go totally without the numbness the drug gave him, Conar neared the point of hysteria. He was beyond rational thought; all he cared about was making Legion see reason, making Legion see he could not live without the drug.

"I can go almost an entire day," he repeated, digging at his arms, feeling blood gathering under his nails, but not feeling any pain. "If I just take it every other day, then after a few weeks, every two days—"

"Almost an entire day? For the love of Alel—you'll go without it for the rest of your life! I'll see to that!"

"I can't!" Conar jerked against the leg restraint. "Going totally without it will kill me, don't you see?"

"No, you won't die. You might wish you could, but you won't. We'll be there with you. Every step of the way. There's nothing to discuss. The matter's been settled."

"Settled by whom?"

"Your brothers. Those who love you."

"You don't give a rat's ass about me!" Conar screamed. "All you want is my woman and you already have her! Now you want my life?"

Legion shook his head. "That's the drug talking, not you. I'm not going to listen to you rant about something that we both know is a closed subject."

Conar decided to change his tactics. His mouth stretched into a grim line of hope, meant to resemble a smirk. But his hands shook and his body shuddered while he feverishly dug at the rash over his arms and chest. "I know you hate me, but this is a cruel revenge. Don't make me suffer for being the one she really wants."

Legion shook his head. "If you believe nothing else I say, believe this—I don't hate you, and I am not making you suffer because I believe it is you Liza wants. If she wanted you so badly, why isn't she here?"

Conar's hope died. His lips drew back in a hateful snarl.

"I am doing this because I care what happens to you. If that is cruel, if seeing you completely well is revenge, then so be it."

"You're doing it because you're afraid she'll come back to me!"

"I don't believe she will." Legion walked toward the door. "You shamed her, treated her like you would a whore."

"She
is
my whore!" Conar spat, jerking on the chain. "And always will be! I give her what she needs, A'Lex! I give her what she wants!"

Legion fixed Conar with a calm, detached look. "At least I don't have to rape her to have her." He opened the door and left, closing the portal with a gentle click.

He was watched constantly.

Sometimes they left him alone, although there were two guards always outside his door; he had been unhooked from the chain that kept him in bed, but the band around his ankle had been left in place. Legion had told him the iron would block his magic. When he was allowed up, the band effectively seemed to bar him from doing what he most wanted to do—escape.

Now, stalking about the room, dreading the trip that would take him to Ivor the next morning, his upper lip lifted in scorn.

They had taken away the clothing from his armoire, the drapery cords, belts and socks, bedding and drapes, anything with which he could fashion a knot. Nothing sharp—metal, glass, wood—was left. The room had been stripped of nearly everything, save mattress, brass bed, and chamber pot into which he had not bothered to relieve himself, rather using the floor just to see the anger on Legion's face.

"You want to act like an animal, then live like an animal!" Legion had snapped, throwing a plate of food on the floor at Conar's feet.

Growling like an animal, Conar stomped barefoot to his window and hissed at the condensation on the glass. He swiped viciously at the moisture, clearing a small circle, and glared into the garden. His furious scrutiny swept over the snow-laden flagstone, leapt over the frozen fountain, and stopped at the lacy, ice-draped willow. He widened the circle of clarity, rubbing briskly at the foggy pane until he had a better view of the tree and what was beneath its spreading branches. He leaned closer to the cold windowpane, pressing his forehead against the glass.

Her back was to the keep, but Conar would have recognized the glowing sunset hair, despite the snow falling around her. He knew the slim body only too well, and could see the gleam of gold on her upraised wrist as the trinket—a slender, twisted loop of tri-colored gold he had given her for her birthday—gleamed in a peripatetic ray of fading sunlight.

"Amber-Lea," he whispered, his breath fogging the window. He swiped at the glass and saw the man standing with her take her tenderly in his arms and kiss her. Their bodies molded against one another like two halves coming together to make a whole, like the pieces of a puzzle that have joined many times, as though from being placed alongside one another time and time again.

"Oh, god!" he sighed.

She was to go with him on the morrow. Legion had come to Conar on her behalf, had asked if she could accompany him to Ivor to help care for him.

"Why should she want to?" he snarled, remembering his last night with the girl when she had made him feel guilt over indulging himself with whores Sern had provided.

"Why do you
do
these things, Milord?" she had asked. "Why do you
need
other women? Don't I satisfy you?"

"I will not do to you what I do to them, Amber-lea," he had yelled.

"What is it you do to them you will not do with me?"

"I
like
hurting them!"

Her stricken face told him more than words what she thought of his dark need.

"For some reason, the girl feels an obligation to you," Legion had said. "She says you will need her."

Conar shrugged. The pain was going to be bad, but if gentle, tender arms could hold him while the pain was at its worst, maybe, just maybe, he could live through his coming ordeal. He had nodded his acceptance of the girl's request.

Now, he knew why she wanted to go to Ivor. It wasn't to be with him, but to be with Brelan Saur.

"When did this happen? Why didn't I see it coming?"

He turned away from the window and sat heavily on the bed. He stared at the floor, wishing with all his being that he had some of Sern's magic elixir. Not looking up as the door opened, he told the intruder to go away.

"If ye ain't hungry, it ain't no skin off my nose!"

He looked at Sadie MacCorkingdale and grimaced. "Put the tray on the bed and leave me alone. I'm in no mood for your damned snide remarks."

Sadie's eyes flared with hatred, but she did his bidding, placing the tray with its tall glass of milk on the bed beside him. "Ain't gonna say another word to you! Eat it or not, I don't care!"

He didn't look up as she left. He wasn't hungry, didn't want the pork chops and stuffed potatoes she had left. He picked up the frosty glass of milk, took a sip or two, and sent the glass hurtling across the room. As soon as he did, two guards rushed in and hurried to pick up the pieces.

"Shouldn't have given him a glass to begin with!" one hissed as he bent to retrieve the shards.

"That vile temper ain't no better now than it was three days ago!" the other commented. "It's like Lord Saur said—he's getting worse!'

"Don't talk about me as though I wasn't here!" Conar shouted, and was rewarded with, not the shock and despair he had hoped to see, but annoyance.

They took the broken glass and left, not bothering to speak to him on their way out.

"Bastards!' he spat under his breath and plopped on the bed. When the door opened again, he was ready to do battle with whoever had dared to bother him. He sighed. "Go away."

Amber-lea ignored his stiff, staccato burst of rudeness and closed the door behind her. "I am packed, Milord. Is there something I may do for you before we leave tomorrow?"

He looked at her lovely, innocent face and felt an anger building in him that would have torn the shingles off a roof if he had been a gust of wind. "What the hell do you want from me?" He stood and faced her. His hands doubled at his sides and he knew his face was tight and ugly.

Used to his rudeness, arrogance, and foolish questions, she shrugged her dainty shoulders and smiled. "I thought I was here to help you, Milord. If you do not want me to go with you—"

"I
don't
!" he snarled, shoving the tray of food from the bed. It landed in a heap on the carpet.

Amber-lea looked at the waste of food. "Why must you act like that, Milord? Does it make you feel more in command?"

His eyes bore into her. "It makes me feel vindicated, mam'selle!"

"Vindicated from what? There are those who would kill just to lap up the food from that carpet. And yet you waste good food with a childish, school-boy tantrum that proves nothing."

Having her scold him made matters worse. He turned his back on her before he could lash out with the hand he wanted so desperately to smash across her lovely cheek. "I don't want you with me at Ivor or anywhere else. Get what belongings and don't you ever come back to this keep." He turned and fixed her with a look of fury. "Do you understand, bitch?"

"You saw me with your brother, didn't you?"

He squinted at her.

"He said he had seen you at the window, but when I looked I saw only frosted glass. But you did see us, didn't you?"

"It's not the first time I've seen Brelan Saur through a window with one of
my
women in his arms!"

Amber-lea shook her head. "I've never been your woman. You wouldn't let me."

"No, but you're his, aren't you?"

"Not in the way you mean."

"Get out!" he hissed, angry and hurt by her lies. No two people could hold one another like he had seen and not be lovers.

"Believe what you want. That is your way. But I have not lain with Lord Brelan. The only man who has known my body is you. Now that I carry your child—"

"Get rid of it!" Though he stared at her with fury, he had said the terrible words from pure instinct and anger. The moment he spoke, he regretted it.

Her chin came up. "This babe is as much mine as it is yours. If you do not wish to claim it, Milord, you need not. But I will have this child no matter what you say. I am not Gezelle. I
will
fight you for this babe!"

He was stunned that the girl knew of his long-ago affair with Gezelle, shocked she knew of the babe he had forced Gezelle to abort. But he didn't let her see the pain the knowledge caused him. Instead, he dismissed.

"I have not betrayed you except with a few stolen kisses." Her voice was calm, but sadness filled the tone. "Lord Brelan has denied us both what we truly want so no further hurt would be done to you."

He looked over his shoulder. "Then go to him! Go to your lover! You have my blessings to screw him 'til his heart's content!"

"Foul language does not make your point any clearer, Milord."

"Get out of my gods-be-damned room, woman!" he shouted, each word growing louder and more forceful.

She looked at him for a long moment. "I wish you well, Milord. I really do."

"Get out!" He picked up an apple from the floor and threw it at her, intentionally missing her.

"Goodbye, Milord." She opened the door and left, never looking back.

* * *

She hadn't been gone but a few minutes before Brelan Saur thundered through the door, his face filled with rage. "Why?" he yelled.

Conar was sitting on the bed, his knees up, encircled within the perimeter of his arms. He gazed at Brelan. "I have kept you from one woman. I'll not keep you from this one."

Brelan had been prepared to shout, scream, hit, if necessary, to make Conar change his mind about Ambie accompanying them to Ivor. As much as he loved the girl, he was willing to give her to Conar so his brother's time in "withdraw hell" would be less severe. Now, he understood all too well what Conar had done. "You knew?"

Conar shrugged. "Not until today."

"We haven't—"

"I know."

"Ambie will still gladly go with you, Conar. All you need do is ask."

Conar's smile was tired and filled with infinite denial. "What kind of man would I be if I kept the two of you apart?" The smile wavered. "What kind of brother?"

"I love her."

Conar looked into Brelan's eyes. "Then go to her, stay with her. There's no need for you to go with me to Ivor."

"I will be with my brother."

"Your brother doesn't need eight babysitters." Conar tugged on the iron manacle around his ankle. "I don't need to be chained like an animal, either."

"It's there so you won't run," Brelan said. "You would, and you know it."

Conar's smile filled with threat. "In a heartbeat!"

Brelan chuckled. "And so the band stays where it is." He turned to go, wanting desperately to say goodbye to Ambie in a way he knew Conar would expect. He paused at the door, craned his neck over his shoulder, and grinned. "Thank you."

Conar snorted. "Save it. You're going to wish me back in the Labyrinth before this is all over."

Brelan shook his head in denial. "Never there—ever again."

* * *

Alone in his room, Conar stared at the iron band, wishing himself free of it. A sly, wicked grin touched his lips, but he shrugged away the spite and leaned back against the headboard.

It was time he soared with the eagles once more.

He needed to find out if he could.