WINDKEEPER

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  Conar smiled. "I am well aware of your loyalty to the crown, Legion."

  "Just as long as you are."

  They stayed another ten minutes, until Jamie Brigman came to tell them it was time to head to the steaming chamber, and from there, to the masseur.

  Legion glanced up as Conar stood in the water. His eyes went to the juncture of his brother’s thighs and he stared unabashed at Conar’s manhood. "It’s still there, little brother." He cocked his head to one side. "Has it always been that small or did this boiling water make it shrink?"

  Conar looked woefully down at himself and shook his head. "I believe it did shrink somewhat. But it has this tendency to expand sometimes."

  "Not much expansion possible with a little pecker like that." Legion grinned.

  Conar stepped up the wide pink marble steps and wrapped one of the fleece towels around his waist. But before he had the end of the towel folded into itself, he felt the nudge of someone watching him and turned to the entranceway. His gaze met Kaileel Tohre’s and he couldn’t stop the violent tremor that ran through his limbs. Instinctively he stepped closer to his older brother.

  Tohre stood there for a moment and then his mouth stretched into a thin, wicked line. He nodded at Conar, completely ignoring A’Lex, and then disappeared down the hallway leading to the sacristy.

  Legion tucked his own towel around his waist. "Why does that bastard stare at you like that, Conar?"

  A shadow of memory crossed Conar’s mind, a shadow of certainty, and he looked down at the streaks on his thighs. He glanced once more to the entranceway. The suspicion of how he had come by the wicked marks on his belly, thighs, and legs made him clench his teeth in fury. "Who put me to bed last eve?"

  Legion halted drying his chest and glanced up. "I did. Why?"

  "Where was Tohre?"

  "Still at the table." Legion tossed his robe over his shoulder. "He was gone when I got back to the meal, though. Like he always is when you’re not there."

  "Where did he go?"

  "How the hell should I know? Why does he bother you?"

  "I hate him," Conar answered, turning away. "I have reason to hate the bastard."

  "Well, I gathered that much, brat."

  He would have continued the conversation, but the closed, set look on Conar’s face made him hesitate. It had always been that way when the subject of Tohre was brought to Conar’s attention.

  Not wanting to upset his brother further, Legion draped a heavy arm over his Conar’s shoulder. "Well, now that you’ve boiled that little prick, let’s go bake it for awhile!"

  * * *

  Prince Coron McGregor, third in line to the crown of Serenia, was a handsome young man only two hours short of being exactly one year younger than Conar and Galen. He was the scholar in the family. Coron would rather turn in with a good book than sit a horse or pull a bowstring. His knowledge of swordplay was limited to the volumes of books on the subject he devoured with relish.

  Seventeen-year old Prince Dyllon McGregor had a smile that was impish and wicked and challenging, all at the same time, and he had a few select, choice friends to whom he vowed allegiance. As intelligent as his brother, if not as scholarly, Dyllon weighed carefully a problem, looked at it from as many angles as were visible, and even from views that were not, and calculated the problem’s affect on his life. There were no half measures with Dyllon. It was either all or nothing.

  When the young men saw their older brothers coming, their faces lit up and they abandoned a third man with whom they had been carrying on an uneasy conversation. Jockeying for a better bear hug on Conar, the young men pushed each other out of the way.

  "Move, Dyllon!" Coron snapped and shoved his younger brother against Legion A’Lex.

  "Make me," Dyllon hissed and shoved his brother back.

  "My god, how you’ve grown, brat!" Legion remarked as he looked into Dyllon’s eyes. It wasn’t that long ago when he had to tilt down his head to look at the boy. Now they were at the same eye level. "How do you find boots to fit you?"

  Dyllon punched Legion’s arm. "That’s not all of me that’s oversized!"

  Coron snorted, rolling his eyes. "No, his ego is, too."

  "Go to hell, Coron." Dyllon smiled sweetly.

  "Been there," was the terse reply. "You forget I used to bunk with you."

  "I’m happy the two of you were able to come," Conar said as he tousled Coron’s short hair. "How long will you stay?"

  "Coron will stay until the end of the year, but I’m having the same old problem with that Necromanian jackass. The man’s a veritable pest!" Dyllon feigned a punch at Conar’s midsection. Hitting Legion was one thing. Actually hitting his idolized older brother, Conar, was considered inappropriate.

  Coron snorted and draped an arm over Legion’s shoulder. "Dyllon wouldn’t have all that trouble with King Shalu if he didn’t go raiding in Necroman all the time. You know Dyllon…any excuse to fight. I have no such troubles with Chale and Ionary or Virago."

  "Ionary and Chale don’t have Princes who take exception to being raided," Dyllon sniffed.

  "That’s because I never go raiding there!"

  "Isn’t your wife an Ionarian, Coron?" Legion countered.

  Coron blushed. "I went raiding once," he mumbled.

  "Aye, and Chase Montyne came looking for you, too," Conar teased, referring to the golden-haired aristocratic Prince of Ionary.

  "I married her, didn’t I?" Coron grinned. "It tied our two families together. Chase couldn’t bitch about me abducting his baby sister when it was she who engineered the entire thing!"

  "Aye, and who was it that made her want to engineer her abduction, Coron?" Dyllon barked.

  Coron grinned. "I admit I coerced her a bit."

  "Aye and that’s why both of you boys had to marry far too early," Legion quipped. "It was either that or lose your danglies."

  "Leave off, Legion. They’re McGregors." Conar chuckled. "We always go after what we want."

  "Like the woman you’ve been running with of late?" a tired, bored voice broke into the conversation. "Against the Tribunal’s orders, I might add."

  Conar slowly turned and the look he gave the man who sat beside the steaming chamber door would have cowered any other man. But Galen McGregor was immune to dirty looks and he had no fear of reprisal from his twin. His pale blue eyes glared with confidence that Conar would do nothing in front of their brothers.

  "Not that it is any of your business, but the Tribunal hasn’t given me any orders, Galen," Conar stated.

  "Not yet, anyway, but once this Joining is done, you touch any other woman, ever again, and the Tribunal will have your precious hide."

  "I wouldn’t let that concern you, Galen," Dyllon said, his voice crackling with challenge. "Conar knows where his obligations lie."

  Galen smiled and the frost in his words was telling. "What happened to the lady you were hiding for Conar, A’Lex? Is she still at Ivor?"

  "I don’t know what you’re talking about," Legion growled. "There’s no woman at Ivor."

  "Maybe not now, but she was there, wasn’t she? Conar thought no one knew he had a mistress at the keep." He swung his gaze to his twin. "You are being watched whether you are aware of it or not. Do one wrong thing, and the Tribunal will flay the hide from your back, Conar."

  "Why don’t you leave Conar alone, Galen," Coron asked, trying to bring peace as he usually did. "This isn’t any time to mention his past affairs. Those are over and done with."

  Galen threw back his head and chuckled. "You don’t know about her, do you, Cory?" He spread his hands. "This was a woman Conar worshipped. I have a feeling big brother intends to keep on with the beauteous Liza despite his marriage vows. If he does, she will suffer alongside him when the whip descends."

  "Shut up!" Conar snarled. "Liza’s done nothing wrong here. Accuse her and it will be the last thing you say this side of hell!"

  "See?" Galen asked his two younger brothers. "See how he protests? The woman he
had A’Lex hide for him at Ivor has caused him to lose what little sense he had."

  "If you don’t shut up, I swear to the gods I’ll—" Conar started forward, but Legion grabbed his arm.

  "I say whatever I feel like saying. You don’t scare me, Conar." Galen glanced at Legion. "Let him go, A’Lex. Let him start something. The Tribunal will drag him to the Joining in chains."

  "Are you tired of living, Galen?" Conar asked in a pleasant voice. "If you are, I can easily accommodate your death wish. Say one more word and, wedding or not, I will call your ass out."

  Galen’s smile faded. If there was one thing he was certain of, it was Conar’s ability with a sword. Even though Galen had been taught swordplay and hand-to-hand combat, he was nowhere near Conar in ability and he knew it. While Galen had sat in the schoolrooms of the Wind Temple, Conar had been on the battlefield learning his warrior ways at the hands of Hern Arbra.

  If there was anything else Galen was sure of in this world, it was Conar McGregor’s willingness to kill. It galled him to back down from the challenge in Conar’s eye, but he did, for he knew that look well.

  Conar waited patiently for Galen to make a move. When he didn’t, he turned his back on his twin, ignoring him. "Will you two join me and Legion in the steaming chamber?" he asked his younger brothers.

  Galen had not wanted to enter the steaming chamber, but his failure to be invited stung badly. He was as much a part of this family as Dyllon and Coron were, even more of a part than Legion. He wanted to hurt Conar, to humiliate him, and the only way he knew how was to strike directly once more at the exposed nerve that was Conar’s heart.

  "I have my men out looking for Liza, by the way." Galen smirked. "I have told them to be very careful of her, for I fully intend to make the lady my mistress." He started to get up off the bench, but instead, he found himself plastered tightly to the wall behind him, his throat caught in a deadly grip as Conar bent over him, his nose only a fraction of an inch from Galen’s.

  "I’d slit her throat before I’d ever let you put your filthy hands on her!" Conar shouted, spittle flying into Galen’s white face. "If I thought you could find her where I haven’t been able to, I’d hunt you down and make sure you never touched her, or anyone else, ever again!" He shoved Galen away, wiping his hand down his robe as though the contact with Galen’s flesh had soiled him, shaking off the restraining hand Legion had on his arm. "Get out of my sight before I kill you, Galen!"

  Galen put a hand to his throat and rubbed the ache caused by Conar’s sword hand. His heart was pounding, fury having risen in his throat like bitter acid. All caution had fled and his ego blinded him to normal restraint. He opened his mouth to speak, but he was so furious, words wouldn’t come out.

  "You want to say something, Galen?" Conar taunted. "Go ahead, you little bastard. I just might let you live long enough to regret it."

  Standing slowly and facing his brother, Galen spoke so low only Conar could hear him. "There will come a day, Conar, and I promise you it will, when you will be forced to go to your knees before me. You will beg me to let you die and I will not. You will beg for mercy and I will see you get none. You will have to live with the punishment that has been reserved for you."

  "You’re a bigger fool than I thought if you really believe that shit, Galen," Conar said and turned his back, motioning his brothers to precede him into the steaming chamber. Before he closed the door, he locked his gaze with Galen’s and smiled. "You are a fool."

  Closing the door behind him, Conar bolted the inside lock, shutting out his twin.

  * * *

  "Never let your enemy know how you truly feel about him, Galen," a voice chided.

  Turning around, Galen shook his head. "I can’t help it, Master. The bastard infuriates me."

  "Hate him all you will, dear boy," Kaileel Tohre said. "Your brother will pay dearly for his disregard of your feelings." He put his hand on Galen’s cheek. "Very soon now, your brother will know the full extent of the Domination’s wrath and rue the day he ever defied us!"

  Chapter 32

  * * *

  "Are you ready?" Legion’s voice was quiet as he spoke to his brother.

  Conar stood beside the arched window in the Temple’s Registry where he had just signed the final papers linking him to Princess Anya. He had already dressed for the wedding ritual, had sat perfectly still and silent through the lectures and warnings, disciplines and information bestowed upon him by the Brothers of the Wind, and now all that was left was his appearance in the Temple’s Chancel. He leaned his head against the cool panes of glass and closed his eyes.

  "It’s nearly time, Conar. They’ll be coming for you," Legion warned as he laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

  Conar inhaled deep and long and let out a nervous, wavering breath. He felt sick to his stomach again and his head ached with a throbbing, blinding pain behind his right eye. He was sweating and shivering at the same time and his palms were itching, his fingers trembling.

  He had been watching the snow outside as his father and father-in-law-to-be had signed their names, witnessing the papers he had already signed in their presence. His mind had been on the gently falling crystals as they covered the Garden of Solace outside the Registry window and he had totally detached himself from what was going on about him. Legion’s voice had broken the spell under which he had placed himself.

  "Conar?" Legion gently prodded.

  He shook his head. "I don’t want to do this, Legion," he said quietly, his voice filled with emotion. "I truly don’t want to do this."

  Legion had nothing to offer his brother. He could speak no words of encouragement that wouldn’t sound false and hollow. All he had was his great love for his brother and that was something Legion A’Lex gave unconditionally.

  "I know, little brother, but Papa isn’t going to allow you out of the contract."

  It deeply hurt Legion to see the flinch that broke his brother’s icy calm when the Wedding Gong sounded for Conar’s father to enter the Chancel.

  The gong sounded again, signaling King Shaz’s entrance into the Temple.

  Conar looked at Legion, hesitating only a second as Legion held out his arms. He went into those strong arms much as a child would have and gripped his brother to him, laying his cheek on Legion’s broad shoulder. "I am so afraid," he whispered.

  Legion’s grip tightened. "I know you are, brat."

  "Don’t let me shame myself before them, Legion. Please don’t let me do that."

  Legion’s throat closed against the raw pain in Conar’s trembling voice. "I have no fear of that happening."

  "I do," was the shaky reply.

  Conar withdrew from his brother’s arms and took Legion’s head in his hands, staring intently into his brother’s eyes. "Promise me something."

  "Anything." There was no hesitation on Legion’s part.

  "Promise me you won’t stop looking for Liza." He saw his brother wince. "Find her and bring her to me, Legion."

  Legion felt a knife go through his soul. He shook his head. "Conar, I can’t—"

  "Find her for me. When you do…" Tears began to form. "…I will betroth her to you."

  Legion’s face went perfectly still. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. "You don’t mean that!"

  Conar turned, his breath hitching in his throat. What he was about to say would be the hardest thing he had ever said in his life. "I will see her wed to no other man, but you, Legion." He felt a part of him dying, shriveling away. "I will have no other man touch her but you." He turned and found Legion staring at him. "With you as her husband, I will not be tempted to stray from that bitch I am being forced to wed. I would not dishonor you in that way."

  "Conar…" Legion’s face was filled with concern.

  "If she is still available, if she married another, someone I didn’t hold in high regard, I would go after her, Legion. I would move heaven and hell to have her again. But if she belonged to you, I would keep my distance. I would never tr
y to take her from you and I would never make her break her wedding vows."

  Legion shook his head in denial. "Conar, I care for her. You are not being fair to ask this of me." He shook his head again. "I think I may well be in love with her myself."

  A sad smile settled on Conar’s lips. "I’ve known that all along, Legion."

  For a long time, Legion held his brother’s gaze. There was no guile in Conar’s blue stare. There was only love and a terrible, terrible pain. A pain Legion could not soothe.

  Twice more the gongs called out, calling for the mother of the bride and the surrogate mother who would stand beside Conar. Conar broke the silence between Legion and himself.

  "Say something, brother. Give me an answer."

  "Are you sure this is what you want?"

  "I am sure."

  Legion put out his hand and the two men grasped each other’s wrists. One heart was breaking; the other’s heart already broken. Legion’s words were soft and spoken with tired resolve. "Then I will gladly accept her to wife if she will have me."

  Conar smiled, sadly. "If we can find her."

  "Aye, if we can find her. But if we do, I’ll damn sure never let her leave us again."

  For one brief moment, Conar hesitated. He wanted to take back what he had said. Wanted to deny any claim Legion might make to the woman they both loved, but he knew in his heart that if Liza ever should return, unattached, to Boreas or to Ivor, he would, himself, never let her go.

  He loved this brother more than all the others and his promises to Legion were inviolate. With Legion as Liza’s husband, he knew he would not be tempted to stray. He also knew Legion would probably kill him if he should try. "Liza will be yours one day," he said, knowing in his heart it was true. "I feel it, Legion."

  The gong broke over them like a death knell and Conar blanched white. "It’s time."

  A’Lex couldn’t speak as his brother turned, squared his shoulders and began the walk that would end his happiness forever. Following Conar to the Chancel, Legion couldn’t help but admire the graceful male animal that was Conar McGregor.