WINDKEEPER

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  "Is he all right?" Legion asked.

  Nodding, Gezelle looked away from the Vice-Commander. She gently shook Conar, easing herself from under his arm, straightening her skirt about her legs where it had ridden up with the intrusion of Conar’s naked thigh. When the Prince opened his eyes, she answered his inquiring look with one of caution. "Your brother is here, Milord."

  Conar raised his head from Gezelle’s shoulder and frowned. "I should have had you lock the gods-be-damned door, ’Zelle."

  "Gezelle?" Legion asked, not looking at the girl as she stood and adjusted her clothing, "would you leave us please?"

  "What the hell do you want, Legion?" Conar growled, embarrassed for the small girl.

  "I wasn’t spying on you, Conar," Legion snapped. "Papa sent me to find you. The Oceanian King and Queen have requested your presence at the midday meal." He waited until Gezelle had curtsied to them and closed the door behind her before he turned his angry glare to his younger brother. "There are those who would not understand the scene I happened upon, Conar." Legion retrieved Conar’s shirt and flung it at him. "That was a particularly stupid thing to do! What the hell were you thinking, or am I flattering your intelligence?"

  Deftly catching the blue silk, Conar jerked the material over his tousled hair. "I don’t give a damn what you think, A’Lex! What I do before being bound hand and foot to Shaz’s frog is none of your concern." Conar plucked at the shirt laces, tangling them, cursing as his fingers jerked at the offending strings.

  Legion had to bite his tongue to keep from shouting. "Have you no care for that young girl’s reputation within this keep? I have heard no tales of her immorality. I would not have thought her a loose woman, but…"

  "She isn’t!" Conar shouted. He spun around and pierced Legion with a stony glint. "I made a stupid mistake, that’s all. I, and I alone, am responsible. And I had gods-be-damned well better not hear one thing about this from anyone’s mouth. Do I make myself clear?"

  Legion tore his gaze from Conar’s guilt-ridden face and looked at the tumbled sheets. He winced as he saw the bright splash of red on the coverlet. Hurrying forward, he snatched the silk from the bed and wadded it up, then stomped to the fireplace and stuffed the telltale evidence into the flames. Angrily shoving the material into the grate with the fire poker, he snarled over his shoulder. "For the love of Alel, Conar! How could you have done this? The girl was a…she was a…" He turned his head and fixed his brother with a malevolent look. "If Liza had known this would happen, she would have never left Gezelle in your care."

  Scowling, tasting the guilt Legion had intended for him to feel, Conar tucked his shirt into his cream-colored leather breeches and sat on the bed to pull on his boots. He couldn’t meet his brother’s eyes.

  "It won’t happen again."

  "It damned well better not!"

  Conar lifted his head and sent his brother a hateful frown. "Don’t tell me what to do."

  "Someone has to. You seem incapable of doing what is right on your own." He watched Conar come to his feet, his hands bunched into fists at his sides. "You take exception to that?"

  It takes a strong man to back down when he knows he’s in the wrong, and although it galled him to do so, Conar did. He ignored the jibe and dug his hands into his pockets.

  "I told you it won’t happen again. I sign the papers today and that will be the end of it."

  "And what if the whore from the tavern was diseased?"

  Wondering how Legion knew of what had transpired in Conar’s room the night before they left the Briar’s Hold, Conar couldn’t meet his brother’s eyes. "I didn’t sleep with her." At Legion’s snort of disbelief, he glanced up. "I didn’t. That’s the truth of it."

  Legion nodded, his body relaxing. Conar never lied. "Will you come down for the meal?"

  "Do I have a choice?"

  "Not unless you want Papa up here looking for you."

  "Have you seen her yet?"

  Legion knew who his brother meant. "I passed her on the stairs. I spoke to her and she answered. Her voice is rather raspy beneath that silver veil."

  "Does she limp?" All the fight had gone out of him. He had hoped it wasn’t true that The Toad was actually here this time.

  Legion laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder. "Aye, but it isn’t a bad limp."

  "But a limp just the same."

  "I heard Hern telling Sadie the girl has a way with animals. She was out in the kennels with Tuck’s hunting dogs when Belle had her litter. She got down on the ground with the Kennel Keeper and helped him deliver the pups. Tuck’s wife gave her one as a wedding present." Legion smiled. "She took the pup up to her room."

  Conar glanced at his brother’s smiling face. "Stupid female. I don’t want dogs in the keep."

  "It proves she has a gentle nature."

  Conar made a rude sound. "Let Papa know I’m on my way." He reached for the bottle of brandy on his bedside table.

  "You go down drunk and Papa will have your balls, Conar," Legion warned and tried to take the bottle, but his younger brother snatched it from his reach.

  Throwing Legion a look of pure venom, Conar tilted the bottle and brought it to his lips, taking a long draft, grimacing as the warm fire licked at his nearly empty stomach, colliding with the undigested oatmeal to make him suddenly queasy.

  "I’m warning you, little brother. If you do anything to embarrass Papa, he’ll geld you, himself."

  Conar smiled. "I don’t think I will, but you never know."

  Legion sighed, not really sure of the glint in his brother’s eyes. "Give me your word you won’t do anything to upset Papa today." He folded his arms over his chest.

  Conar’s smile widened, a wicked grin that deepened the dimple in his right cheek. He placed his hand over his heart. "I give you my word as Prince Regent and Lord High Commander of the Serenian Forces that I will do nothing to embarrass our father today."

  Legion probed Conar’s face for a moment and then threw up his hands. "You’d better not, that’s all I can say!" He stalked to the door and left, his head shaking at his brother’s stupidity.

  "I promise I won’t do anything to embarrass Papa, today," Conar repeated, bringing the bottle to his lips once more. He took a large sip of the brandy, shrugged and then drained the entire bottle, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. He grinned. "But I didn’t say anything about tomorrow."

  Chapter 27

  * * *

  King Gerren looked up as his son came down the spiral staircase. There was a lethal frown on Conar’s handsome face that quickly turned to a false smile of greeting as he caught sight of his father waiting.

  Gerren sighed. By the gods, but the boy was going to be difficult, the King thought. He watched his son cross the main hall toward him and was struck anew at just how much Conar looked like his mother. Conar had Moira’s hair and her coloring; his eyes, although blue like his father’s, were tilted just as his mother’s had been. Mother and son had the same sensual smile that could melt even the coldest heart. As the King gazed at his most beloved child, he saw the false smile turn to genuine affection as Conar reached out to take his father’s hand in greeting.

  "Are you well?" Gerren asked, looking his son up and down. He had gone to Conar’s room during the night only to find the boy fast asleep. He had covered Conar’s bare chest with the coverlet, placed a light kiss on the smooth forehead and stood watching his child sleep as he had done many times before. He had wanted to assure himself Conar was all right.

  "I feel fine, Papa, no thanks to Hern." He turned his head to listen to the sweet sound of music coming from the drawing room. "Tell me that’s The Toad…" He stopped, warned by the sudden scowl on his father’s face. "The Princess Anya," he corrected, "who plays so beautifully." His voice was slightly thick, but only someone who knew him well could tell that Conar was just a little more than tipsy. Unfortunately for him, his father knew him all too well.

  Glowering, Gerren took hold of Conar’s upper arm, yankin
g the young man around to face him. "By the gods, I told your brother to see to it that you did not come down to this hall in an unacceptable manner!" He looked about him to see if anyone was near. Lowering his voice, he shook Conar’s arm. "I will not have you offending Shaz and his lady-wife. Do you understand me, Conar?" He gave his son another hard shake. Looking down at the boy’s clothes, he at least approved of them. His voice was cold and clipped as he commanded, "Get your ass back up those stairs and stay there until you are in a fit condition to appear!"

  Conar drew himself up, sticking out his chin. He had always prided himself on being able to hold his liquor. "I am sober enough for the likes of The Toa…"

  "You are drunk!" his father hissed. "I won’t tell you again to get up those stairs, Conar; I will have you carried up them!"

  "Ah, so there you are, Gerren!" a deep voice called from the drawing room door. "And this must be our Conar!"

  King Shaz of Oceanian strode forward and held out his hand to Conar. The young Prince would have gone down on one knee in honor to the King, but Shaz spoke up. "No, no, son! You are family. A son does not go to his knee to his father in Oceania."

  "But he crawls on his belly to his father in Serenia," Conar mumbled and was rewarded with a swift kick to his shin that made him yelp and turn hurt and surprised eyes to his father.

  "My son likes to make little jokes." Gerren laughed, slapping Conar so hard on his back, the young man lurched forward, coughing.

  "Such is the way with my boys, too," Shaz agreed. "I’ve resorted to a few kicks in my time, Gerry."

  King Shaz Wynth was a tall man, well over six feet. A thick mane of salt and pepper hair that had once been as black as midnight glistened over his high forehead. Wiry and straight, the full head of hair was his most striking asset. His dark brown eyes glittered with good humor and his full lips seemed ready to smile at a moment’s notice. That they did was obvious in the crinkles near his mouth. Thick, shaggy brows and a thin, straight nose hovered over a thick black mustache that gave the man an air both of authority and sensuality.

  His build was excellent for a man pushing the last few years of his fifth decade. There were no bulges or sags, only well-muscled arms and belly that attested to a daily regimen of fitness adhered to all his life. His white teeth were straight and evenly spaced and there were laugh lines around his eyes that said much for the man’s overall disposition. His handshake was firm and welcoming as he gripped Conar wrist.

  "At long last I get to meet my Anya’s betrothed. I had feared this day would never come," Shaz joked.

  "I had hoped not," Conar answered, biting his tongue as he realized what he had said. He heard his father growl a warning, and corrected himself. "What I meant to say was I had hoped to meet you sooner."

  Shaz draped a strong arm around Conar’s shoulder and hugged the young Prince. "Ah, well, the vagaries of Fate, eh? But now we are here, the papers will be signed today"—he leaned toward Conar—"at last, and the wedding will be tomorrow night. I can hardly wait!"

  There was a gleam in the man’s eye Conar couldn’t understand. His mind was becoming foggier by the minute and he had to reassess his opinion of just how well he could hold his liquor. The man’s face was beginning to blur out of focus.

  "It’s a shame you have been kept so busy running things around here, Conar. We would have loved to have had you come to visit with us." Shaz smiled.

  Conar glanced at his father’s set face and realized his parent had lied about his son’s constant refusals to make the trek to Oceania. An inherently honest man, Gerren must have been offended by having to lie for his son. Conar’s guilt rode him like a vicious trainer. He looked at his father in apology.

  "I have been busy," Conar said quietly.

  "Well," Shaz said, patting Conar’s back, "I know you regret not having met Anya."

  Conar could only nod. He regretted ever having to meet the man’s daughter, he thought with despair.

  As he removed his arm from around Conar’s tense shoulder, a slow smile spread over King Shaz’s face. The look he gave Conar said it all. With a jolt, Conar realized the man was laughing at him. "You’ll have a lifetime to get to know one another, though, won’t you, son?" He grinned. "What’s a few carefree days of bachelorhood with your friends, huh?" He laid a strong hand on Conar’s shoulder and squeezed. "I can remember my youth. Gallivanting all about the countryside; getting into mischief"—he lowered his booming, deep voice—"meeting girls!"

  Conar nearly groaned. The man knew precisely why he hadn’t come to Oceania to meet his future bride. Just how much Shaz did know worried Conar. With the King’s next words, all doubt about the extent of his knowledge was removed.

  "I understand you had some problems with a runaway bondservant? A girl named Liza?" Shaz shook his head. "Heard you had to travel far and wide to bring her back. You must tell me how you handled that situation. I have just such a girl who runs away from time to time. She is a continuous source of irritation to me." Shaz chuckled with mirth as he held Conar’s stunned look. There was a look of challenge on the older man’s face. "How did you settle the situation, Conar?" Shaz lost his smile. "Or is it settled?"

  Conar’s father feared what his son might inadvertently say. "Conar’s bachelor days are over, Shaz. There is nothing standing in the way of his marriage to your daughter, is there, Conar? That old problem with the girl who gave him so much trouble is over." The King shot a look of pure malice at his son. "Isn’t it, Conar?"

  Conar lowered his head. Liza’s loss still had the power to hurt him deeply. Hearing his father put a finality to it only made the pain run deeper. "Aye, Papa." He glanced up at Shaz’s unsmiling face and saw something lurking there. Was it contempt? Understanding? Spite? Conar couldn’t tell. The man was watching him closely and Conar managed a weak smile. "I will have no more trouble from the girl, Papa."

  He wasn’t relieved when King Shaz gave a snort in answer to his reply. "One never knows, though, does one, eh?"

  "Your lady-wife does play so beautifully," King Gerren said, trying to change the awkward subject. He had an idea Shaz was aware of Conar’s indiscretion. "Conar, shall we go in and listen to Medea for awhile?" He put his arm tightly around Conar’s shoulder and jerked the young man toward the drawing room.

  Upon entering the room, Conar almost tripped over his own feet as he caught sight of the woman seated at the harpsichord, and unknown servant girl standing beside her, turning the pages of her music. The lady was in profile to him, but the long, loose hair that hung to her waist in thick waves was as jet black as a starless night. There was a slimness and curvaceous shape to her that belied the years Conar knew to be hers, and for one heart-stopping moment, he had seen someone else seated at the instrument and his heart had thudded painfully in his chest.

  The servant girl turned to look at him. Her lashes lowered and she mumbled something to her mistress.

  At the moment the lady turned to face him and her velvet eyes bored straight into his, the breath caught in Conar’s throat and he felt his mouth drop open at the sight of the Queen of Oceania.

  Although there was not that much physical resemblance between Queen Medea Wynth and Liza, the emerald eyes were identically shaped and tilted. Long, thick black lashes slipped over the forest green orbs and a taunting smile, so uncannily like that of Liza’s, stretched the full, sensual lips. When the lady spoke, her voice was soft, a sultry breathlessness of melodic tone. "Is this our new son, Shaz?"

  "Aye, my love. This is Anya’s husband. What think you of him, Medea?" The King came to stand beside his wife, placing a loving hand on her pale shoulder.

  Conar managed to shake the image of Liza from his mind and walk on shaky legs to the lady. Going to one knee before her, taking her proffered hand in his to plant a light kiss on her upturned wrist, he looked up at the Queen and a deep frown marred the smooth flesh of his forehead.

  Withdrawing her hand from Conar’s, the Queen put it on the young man’s forehead and smoothed the frown
with her fingertips.

  "He would be heartbreakingly handsome if he did not frown so!" she teased and glanced up at her servant, who smiled in answer.

  "Your pardon, Majesty!" Conar stammered, his face pale with the realization he was not acting as he should. "I was taken aback by your looks."

  Medea laughed and her voice was a crystal tinkling of silver bells. "What a compliment, Conar! I have had my looks cause quite a few things in men, but never can I remember them ever causing a frown!"

  Conar’s face turned red with humiliation. "I meant no offense, Majesty. I meant to say…that is, I…" His tongue wouldn’t obey.

  "Be quiet before you make things worse!" his father hissed. "Get up!"

  "Leave him be, Gerren!" Medea scolded. "I was only teasing him." She caressed the flesh of his cheek. "Can you smile for me, Sweeting? I would like to see what all the women find so devastatingly appealing!"

  His face deepened in color and he blinked. A genuine smile lit his face at her teasing. "I would imagine men always smile when in your presence, Majesty."

  "But some young men frown!" she shot back and giggled.

  "I’ll not do so again," he promised, bringing her fingers to his lips.

  "He looks somewhat like his portrait, doesn’t he, Liza?" the Queen asked the servant girl.

  Conar’s head snapped up and he stared at the girl on the other side of the harpsichord. He was relieved to see she bore no resemblance at all to his lady.

  "Aye, Highness, he does somewhat," she agreed in a smoky voice.

  "Liza is the girl I was telling you about, Conar; the one who runs away on occasion." Shaz chuckled. "She has a beau in Serenia, don’t you, Liza-love?"

  "I did, Highness. But not anymore." She looked steadily at Conar until he looked away.