WindSeeker (7 page)

He drained the tumbler and sent it smashing into the fireplace. What had Jah-Ma-El asked? Had he ever

loved Conar? Galen laughed, a sound filled with self-loathing and contempt.

"Aye, Jah-Ma-El, I loved him once. But he never returned that love."

Sitting in his chair, Galen buried his face in his hand and realized the horrendous pain in his head had not

eased.

Not that it mattered. The pain in his heart was far worse.

Conar’s blond head rested in his wife’s lap as they sat beneath the willow in the garden. Spring had

come early, bringing with it a few overly warm days of sunshine and brisk breezes. The snow had melted

away and the blossoms sprinkled about the flagstone pathway filled the air with a multitude of perfumes.

The water once again flowed in the fountain and the leafy arms overhead sheltered the peaceful, walled-in

garden from the hot sun. The spring equinox was only a few weeks away, but already the blooms about

the garden were heavy on bush and shrub.

"I’m going to the kitchens," Thom called to them from his place beside the library door. "Want

anything?"

"Wine," Conar answered. He watched the tall man slip through the library doors and then glanced at his

lady. "Alone, at last!"

Liza looked uneasily about them. They were never left alone for too long at the time, not since the

incident at the anniversary party and what had happened afterwards. She was accustomed to having a

member of the Elite or one of the palace guards hanging about in the background. She craned her neck

and saw Storm and Marsh sitting at the far end of the garden by the seagate, playing a game of chess.

Ever since their anniversary party four months earlier, several real attempts had been made on Conar’s

life. She was worried. He had become violently ill at the party, having to take to his bed with horrible

stomach cramps that had alarmed Healer Cayn and terrified her.

"I can’t say for sure," Cayn had growled, "but I’d say someone fed him a massive amount of purgative."

"But not poison?" Gerren asked, fear on his face.

Cayn shook his head. His lips pulled back over an angry snarl. "But someone wanted to be

gods-be-damned sure he got as sick as a dog!"

Then there had been the dagger that had come out of nowhere, sailing through the air with a loud

swoosh of deadly intent. Had it not been for Hern’s quick thinking, the blade would have struck Conar in

the back, close to his heart.

"Hasdu!" Hern had yelled at the top of his lungs. "This is a Hasdu weapon!"

A vigorous search of the keep and the surrounding countryside had not turned up a trace of the nomad

assassin who had thrown the deadly missile.

"Do you
still
think the Hasdu mean you no harm?" the King had yelled at his son.

Conar had not answered, but Liza had seen the concern flitting across his face.

Two days later, the cinch of Conar’s saddle had been cut. As he raced du Mer’s new gelding across the

training field, the cinch had let go and Conar slid with a painful crash to the hard-packed ground, the

wind knocked from him, his left arm twisting awkwardly beneath him.

"Is it broken?" Teal had asked as he leapt from his own mount to kneel beside his friend.

"Bruised and scraped all to hell," Conar said, wincing as he sat up. "Sprained, maybe, but not broken."

"You could have broken your neck with a fall like that."

Conar looked at Seayearner, his huge black steed standing a few feet away, grazing with contentment on

the tall field grass. "Aye, that I could," he answered softly. He looked back at Teal. "Maybe I was meant

to."

And only a few hours after Conar and Teal returned to the keep, Conar limping, Teal looking sorely

embarrassed, the young Prince had come down with a violent fit of vomiting, gagging so violently, Cayn

had feared this time he truly had been poisoned.

"What did he drink?" Legion had shouted at the cook as he grabbed her and spun her to face him.

"Storm said he saw you give him something!"

"I gave him some lemonade," Sadie shouted back. "You accusing me of giving the man something to hurt

him?"

Liza stepped between the two of them. "Of course, not, Sadie. We know you’d never do anything to

hurt His Grace."

"He was given something!" Hern snarled. "The boy’s sicker than a drunk weasel!"

"I don’t know what it was that he ingested," Cayn told them all that night. "Whatever it was, it was meant

to put him in his bed and it has."

"From now on, I want three men watching him every minute!" the King ordered. He turned to Legion.

"Don’t let him out of your sight!"

Now, Liza watched him as carefully as Legion, Teal, Hern, Thom, Storm, and Marsh. Having the two

Elite near as they sat in the garden made her less anxious, but she would just have soon had Thom there

as well.

"Liza?"

She jumped, her gaze going to her husband. "Aye, Milord?"

"Don’t you want to be alone with me?" he asked in a hurt, little boy’s voice.

"Is that why you sent Thommy away?"

Conar grinned. "He offered, Liza."

"Aye, and you knew how long it would take him to get Sadie to give him the key to the wine cellar," she

scolded.

"Maybe I should have asked for a rare bottle, then." He leered at her, then reached up a hand to draw

her head down to his eager lips. "One kept far back in the room."

"You are incorrigible!" she said when his lips released hers.

"I am horny, Madame."

"A condition you seem to perpetuate, Milord," she sniffed and picked up the lavender-tinted rose he had

plucked for her earlier. She smiled in appreciation as she inhaled its heady aroma.

"The roses in this garden have no thorns," he told her with a resigned sigh. "Did you realize that?" He

picked up a long tress of her hair and tickled his nose with it.

She twirled the rose in her slim fingers. "I had not thought of it. Why is that?"

He smiled. "There’s a legend. Want to hear?" When she nodded, he pointed to where Storm and Marsh

sat. "See the thornbush by the seagate?"

She looked at the twisted, gnarled bush and a slight, unhappy frown crossed her face. "It looks so

forlorn sitting all alone."

"There’s a reason why its all alone." He took her hand and brought the palm to his mouth, his teeth

nibbling at the tender flesh between her thumb and forefinger.

"And?" she prompted, trying to withdraw her hand, for the sensations he was causing were turning her

hot with passion. She was relieved when he brought her hand down to his chest and cradled it against his

shirt.

"My mother used to let us come with her to the garden." He glanced up at her with a happy smile. "Like

you do with my children." He lifted her hand and kissed it again. "She’d tend her flowers and tell us

stories of her homeland, Virago, and about our heritage. We would listen with rapt attention, for she

could tell stories in a way others could not. I think I was four or five, and Legion was ten or so when she

told us the story of the thornbush. There were four other boys with us that day. One was Teal and the

others were my illegitimate brothers." He looked at her. "Like you, she never turned away one of my

father’s sons. No matter how others felt about them, she loved them because they were his sons and

were a part of him." He shook his head. "I think Mama would have loved them even if he hadn’t. She

even cared a little for Jah-Ma-El."

"Jah-Ma-El?" She had heard that name before but couldn’t place it. Why did the name conjure up the

image of a friend?

"He’s not important," Conar said. He didn’t like to think of his brother and where he was, what he had

become.

Liza sensed his reluctance to speak of the man. "Did your mother love Legion well?"

Conar laughed. "Too well, sometimes. He got away with murder. Aye, she loved him." His face turned

soft. "As you love my children."

"See how well The Toad has treated you after all?" she teased. "How she would not let them keep you

from your children?"

His grin widened. "Knowing you truly accept them and go with me to see them is a reward I had not

expected of The Toad."

"You really didn’t know what to expect, now, did you?" she asked, swatting his arm with a lock of her

hair. "Toad or not, this woman was not about to see your children orphaned, or you denied access to

them. Besides, they are mine, too!"

Conar felt a thrill of pride roll through him. She might not care at all for the mothers of his children,

although she did not shun them as some women would have, but she was utterly devoted to the children

themselves, and they loved her beyond measure. He sighed and closed his eyes, content with the world

and the match he had made with this wonderful woman.

"Conar! The legend?" She nudged him, not wanting to allow him to fall asleep as he so often did when

they were talking like this.

"The place is called
The Garden of the Reckless Lovers
. Mama was especially fond of the tale

because it taught a moral lesson. The legend says that Alel was asked a favor. A promise was made in

return for having the favor granted, but once the favor was granted, the one who asked reneged on his

promise and Alel was cheated.

"He is the greatest god in our pantheon and is all-powerful, all-knowing. He is a merciful and loving god,

but He can also be a very unforgiving and vengeful god. When you ask something of Him, you must keep

the promise He requests. If you don’t, He will exact a revenge that you will find hard to accept.

"Sometimes the things He asks are small, like a promise to buy a new bell for the Temple or to put

flowers on an unattended grave. Other times, His demands are more important and are hard to accept.

But whatever He asks in return for the favor, you should be prepared to do, for His punishments are

often severe."

"Have you ever asked Him for anything?" Liza questioned, smoothing his hair back from his forehead.

His eyes darkened with memory. "A shadow fell over me once. I begged to see the light again and He

granted my prayers."

"Was His demand hard on you?"

"Not really. It was important, though." He squinted, trying to remember. "When I asked Him for the

favor, He told me through a dream that it would be a long time before I would be required to make good

on my promise, and it was. It was about five years later the demand came. I was eighteen." He looked at

her. "Only a few months before I met you."

"What was the promise?"

"That I would help someone who could not help themselves."

"And you did," she replied, never doubting he would make good on a promise.

"I dreamed there was a little girl crying. I could hear her, but couldn’t see her. I had that same dream for

three nights in a row and, on the morning of the fourth day, I rode out of the keep knowing I would find

her. I didn’t know where I was going, but I knew Alel would guide me. I rode for nearly two days, all the

way to the seacoast, near Ciona, before I found her." His face shadowed with grief. "She had been hurt."

"And you made it right?" She smiled down at him with love.

He took a long breath and let it out slowly. "I made it as right as it will ever be for Jenny and her

parents." He shook his head. "But I’m not sure what I did really helped her."

Liza wanted to ask him about what had happened, but his face had taken on a closed look she

recognized all too well. Conar held many a secret from her, and when his eyes turned blank as they were

now, she knew better than to question him further.

"How did the garden come by its notorious name?" she asked, deciding to get back to the original

conversation.

He seemed to mentally shake himself from the past. He refocused and looked up at her. "There was a

brash young man who had fallen in love with his neighbor’s betrothed. He desired her more than anything

in the world and would have done anything to have her as his own. He tried to woo her, but she was

afraid her husband-to-be would slay them both if she gave in. The young man knew she wanted him as

much as he wanted her, so he went to Alel, begging the Great God to intercede. Alel, it is said, is a

romantic, that He is softhearted where lovers are concerned. He told the young man He would grant him

one night with the woman in exchange for giving a great deal of money to the poor. Times were very bad

that year. There was famine and drought, and the poor were having a particularly hard time of it. They

needed money to buy food and water.

"So, the young man swore he would give a wagon full of silver coins to the poor if Alel would grant him

one night with his love. The young man truly thought that if he could have but one night with her, she

would see her love was greater for him than her fear of her husband-to-be and would run away with him.

"Alel knew the man was lying. He can tell if you are true and honorable, and the young man needed to

be taught a lesson. So He granted the man his one night with his neighbor’s betrothed; but He told him

that it would have to be for one night, and one night only, for the woman’s husband-to-be was a good

man and deserved better. He said there could be no repetition of that night, ever, if the young man did

not want to suffer the consequences."

"So the man was warned?" Liza asked.

"Severely warned, it was said; but he didn’t pay any heed. He wanted more than just one night, so he

employed the services of a great sorcerer to see that the lady would fall so hopelessly in love with him