WINDHEALER

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  Innocent, helpless ones…like Elizabeth A'Lex. Occultus worried about her.

  As he worried about the strangeness developing in Conar.

  There were things Occultus had been told about his pupil that made the ice along his spine shift. Conar never looked into mirrors anymore. Perhaps the image of himself hurt too much. His face was like carved granite, his mouth set. There was no more warmth in his face than there was in his voice. The mirror no doubt let him see what he thought of himself and the ravages of his scarred cheek was nothing in comparison to his savaged soul.

  And his sleep was not as it should be. The void of his grief over the news of his wife's unfaithfulness was slowly being filled with too many hours of taxing work and nights spent planning for the downfall of his enemies. When he wasn't on the training fields, he was running along the mountain roads with Chand Wynth. When he was not climbing the cliffs, barefoot and shirtless, he was on the archery field with quiver after quiver of quarrels at his feet. He was up long before dawn, awake long after moonrise. He didn't seem to need that much rest, but the haunted look in his eyes was mute evidence that his soul needed something his body would not allow it to have.

  Brelan had tried to reason with him. "Don't let anger overcome you! The whole Force knows you're still distressed over the situation in Serenia."

  "Allow me my distress!" Conar had shouted. "That is all I have left. Don't try to take that away from me as well!"

  "It's a sin to punish yourself for something beyond your control."

  "My sins are my sins and I will be the one to atone for them!"

  Shalu had also tried to talk to him, but despite his persistence and bullying, had gotten no further than had Saur. "Why the hell did you do that?" Shalu shouted when Conar had sent a woman recruit fleeing from the room in hysterical tears.

  "I don't need a babbling female getting in the way of my men! She wasn't Force material."

  "She was a well-trained spy! Rylan, himself, trained her!"

  "If he trained her, it must have been under the sheets!"

  "I did not!" Rylan shouted. "She's a married woman!"

  A vicious and chilling laugh came from Conar. "They make the best whores, don't they?"

  Occultus had shaken his head when the men repeated Conar's words to him.

  But Brelan's hurt was the hardest to explain away. "I thought I knew him better than anyone, Occultus. Now I realize I never knew him at all."

  "You knew the man he was. The new man you see is still in his birthing."

  "The gods help us when he comes to full age!" Shalu snorted.

  "You don't want to provoke him," Occultus warned. "This new man is a formidable opponent not to be underestimated. His pain is beyond tears, beyond even agony as humans know it. It is a raw and bleeding wound, festering and malignant, alive with squirming parasites. And just like any wounded animal, he's dangerous."

  "I realize his suffering and humiliation was more than any man should've had to bear," Brelan agreed, "but he is becoming the evil done to him."

  "There's something wrong with him," Pearl added. "What happened to his ability to love?"

  "The Dark One sucked it out of him," Chase Montyne murmured.

  Occultus wanted to change the subject. "One of you will have to try to make him listen. I would nominate Saur, but I think you and Conar have been at loggerheads too often. He needs someone he won't pummel if the mood strikes him."

  "Like who?" Jah-Ma-El quipped.

  "Like you," Shalu answered.

  And so Jah-Ma-El had gone reluctantly to the archery field that next morning where Conar was busy hitting target after target dead center. "May I speak with you?" a nervous Jah-Ma-El inquired as he stood twisting his hands.

  "What do you want?"

  "I think you know." He looked up when his brother made a hateful snort.

  "Occultus sent you to lecture me on my conduct?" There was fire in the cold eyes, heating them to the boiling point. Conar's body was rigid with distrust and anger.

  "Why the hell can't you talk to a person in a civilized manner?"

  "Because I'm not a civilized man, you son-of-a-bitch!"

  "I can see that." Jah-Ma-El started to walk away.

  "Don't turn your back on me!" Conar shouted.

  Jah-Ma-El looked over his shoulder. "If you want to feel sorry for yourself, that's your business. But I don't have to watch you do it!"

  Occultus frowned at the aging warlock when Jah-Ma-El reported to him. "You got no further than I expected, Jah-Ma-El."

  "There's has to be a way to reach him," Grice sighed. He looked at his best friend. "If anyone can, it will be you."

  And so Brelan was sent again.

  Conar looked at him as he sat beside him at the indoor pool. The two didn't speak. Conar sat for a moment, expecting Brelan to open the conversation. When he didn't, Conar dove into the pool and surfaced at the far end, staring across the rippling water at Brelan.

  "I take it it's your turn to bedevil me for awhile," he yelled, treading water. "Aren't you supposed to try to make me ashamed of the way I've been behaving?"

  Brelan simply stared.

  Conar sank beneath the water, swam a long time under the gently lapping waves, then bobbed up in front of Brelan. "Are you supposed to wear me down with that look?" His lips curled in scorn. "You can't, you know."

  "Why don't you grow up?"

  Steel sharpened Conar's words. "Why don't you just leave me the hell alone?"

  "You may think you've reached the point where you don't need anyone, little boy. Physically that may be so, but I don't think you'd really like to be left alone, would you? Didn't you get enough of that at the Labyrinth?"

  Quiet, ravaging pain entered those cold eyes. When Conar answered, he spoke of himself in a self-degrading tone, belittling the man he once was. "That man didn't like being alone; I don't care one way or the other. I'm stronger than he was."

  "No, you've just developed a nasty habit of thinking only of yourself."

  Conar's mouth twisted with fury. "I gave up my life for the good of the Wind Force! What the hell did you give up?"

  "The only thing you gave up was your ability to be reasonable! This damned snotty attitude is wearing thin! If you don't watch out, you're going to wind up having someone's fist rammed through your face!"

  Conar came out of the water in a lunge of fury. He splashed water over Brelan in the process and reached down with vengeful hands to pull Saur to his feet. "You wanna try putting your fist through my face?"

  Brelan looked into a face rabid with rage, filled with hate, but held his ground. "You want a fight? You can't carry on a normal conversation with anyone without your temper making a fool of you. If you want to hit me, go ahead; I won't stop you. That's all you know how to do anymore—to push everyone who cares about you as far away as possible!"

  "Who the hell do you think you are?" Conar's hands tightened on Brelan's shirt.

  "Your brother."

  Conar's body was tight with coiled fury. He shoved away Brelan. "Leave me the hell alone before I wind up hurting you!"

  "Sooner or later you're going to need someone's help in handling what's causing this anger. You can't do it on your own. Can't you see that?"

  "I don't need anyone's help! I don't need your help! Just get out of my sight! Get out of my life!" He turned to go, but Brelan gripped his shoulder and spun him around.

  "And that's something else that's gotten to be a nasty habit. Running away when the truth gets too close for your liking!"

  Conar drew back his fist, intent on smashing it into Saur's smirking face.

  "Do it," Brelan said. "You've been wanting to."

  "Damn you!" Conar spat, lowering his fist. "Why can't you mind your own business?"

  "Because I love you. I'm worried about you, just like all the men are. This brooding is destructive. Something has to be done to snap you out of this moroseness."

  The grief had been driven deep. It had brutalized his soul. And he d
idn't know how to deal with it. He was hurting and knew Brelan understood, but he didn't know how to go about exorcising it from its hiding place. "What do you want from me?" He shook free of his brother's hold. There was such paralyzing pain in the dark eyes. "No matter what I do, it's wrong!"

  "Sit down? Will you talk to me?" Brelan reached out to touch him but he backed away. "What are you afraid of? Are you afraid to let people close to you anymore?"

  "People who get close to me have a way of getting hurt."

  "So you keep them at a distance? What kind of life is that?"

  "A life of not being bothered by bumbling fools and incompetent jackasses! I can't, and I won't, tolerate fools who I have to mollycoddle and lead about by the ears! If a man doesn't know his job, he'll not be one of mine for long. I'll not be anybody's babysitter. Not even yours!"

  Brelan's patience snapped. "How can you be so damned stupid? My god, you're become cruel and insensitive as well as unreasonable. You hurt people just for the sake of doing it. Do you really think that makes you better than those you sneer at?"

  "I'm not sneering at anyone! I just want to be left alone to do what I have to do. Stay the hell out of my way and you won't have to worry about my insensitivity or unreasonableness!"

  "God, I wish you'd listen to yourself!"

  "Just walk away and let it go. You're not going to change how I feel, you're not going to lessen the hate I feel—"

  "Most men don't hate like you do. They learn to forgive and forget. Your hatred is growing."

  "Most men haven't been where I've been. You don't forget hell; you don't forgive those who sent you there."

  "Is Liza one of those to be blamed for your sojourn into hell?"

  Conar stilled, his tawny brows drawing together in sudden hurt. The scars that slashed across one bronzed cheek jumped.

  "Why won't you let go of it? There's so much you don't understand; things I can't tell you about now. If you don't let go of the hurt, it's going to cripple you. It makes the loneliness worse."

  Conar shook his head. "I'm way past the point of being lonely."

  "You know what I see when I look at you? A heart that was once warm and tender and sweet turning cold and hard and bitter. There doesn't seem to be anything I can say to stop that from happening. The horrible things that have happened to you keep haunting you, wearing away the fabric of your sanity. One day, only a slender thread will remain if you don't let us help. Just like the rest of us need your help. The men of the Force are like the branches of an oak. We can reach out to shade and protect our lands, but without the mighty oak, itself, alive and well and flourishing, the branches will wither and die. You are that oak. Without you, we don't stand a chance."

  "I don't want to lose any more people I care about. If I don't let them close to me, it won't hurt so bad if they leave."

  Brelan understood now. He put his hands on Conar's shoulders, surprised when his brother didn't move. "We're not going to leave you. We're here for you. Whether you like it or not."

  Conar's voice was dead, emotionless, but the fear on his face was there. "The gods bless you with something and They see how happy it makes you. They let you keep it for awhile, treasure it, grow to depend on it. But if you grow to love it too much, They get jealous, angry, so They punish you by taking it away. Eventually They may give it back if you're willing to pay a high enough price. But always, always, in the back of your mind, is that fear that They're going to take it away from you again, and the next time They'll take it away for good." He looked away. "Like They took Liza from me."

  "Conar, she's—"

  He held up his hand. "Never bring her up to me again. I mean it."

  Brelan watched Conar walk away. There was no longer the livid rage on the scarred face, but there was still the distance that had erected a barrier no one seemed able to climb.

  Chapter 18

  * * *

  Three events shaped the man the Wind Force would know as Raven.

  The first had been Raja DeLyle's sorceress seduction of him. Even after being told the elixir meant for him had been tampered with, he still blamed himself for succumbing to her. He had wanted to keep himself as pure as the last day he had seen his beloved lady, Liza. He had wanted to be able to look into her lovely face, take her in his arms, swear his love had been as faithful as it was on the day he had been taken from her.

  Secondly, Raja's declaration of Liza's betrayal, and with whom, had torn at his heart, had shattered what was left of the idealistic young man he had once been. It wasn't so much the fact that she had been lover to three of his brothers, or that she had borne children by each of them. It would have been cruel, and foolish, for him to expect a woman who believed her husband dead to remain chaste and celibate, especially a woman as vital as Liza. And he knew how much she'd cared for Brelan and Legion. Both men loved her, as well, and if truth were told, it would have been Legion he would have seen with her. That she had slept with both men hurt him, but he understood. What had hurt him the most was the time in which she had done it.

  Over and over in his mind he heard those twice-damned words that Raja had screamed at him. "She waited all of two months!" The bitch's assertion that Liza had been pregnant before her wedding to Galen had been confirmed by his aunt. In his mind, he saw, not the woman he had loved so desperately, but a woman who had long craved the crown of Serenia, and a woman who had eventually gained it, not once, but twice.

  Legion's part in all that had happened did not go unnoticed, either. Conar had expected A'Lex to protect Liza, to see that Galen did not realize his plan to marry her. But Legion had failed. He had allowed the cursed marriage to take place and had been unable to keep Galen from taking Liza. A betrayal in itself, Legion's marriage to Liza after Galen's death only served to make Conar even more furious with him. He started to hate his brother, and that hate began to fester into something more…the red-hot stab of unnatural jealousy and brooding revenge.

  Oddly enough, he didn't seem to mind Brelan's part in the affair. For reasons he could not understand, Conar pitied Brelan. It might well have been because he knew Saur, like him, had loved and lost the one woman he would ever love. That, Conar knew, was punishment enough.

  And then there had been the murder of Se Huan.

  Even under ordinary circumstances, when a good and cherished friend dies, the ones left behind are stunned, numbed by what has happened, unwilling, and often unable, to accept the finality of the situation. Se Huan had become Conar's oasis of calm and tranquillity in his disorganized life. She had chased away his nightmares and lovingly given herself to him in the only way in which he could honorably accept her. And she had understood. She had not pressed him for something he could not, and would not, give. It was her devotion, and quite possibly her love for him, that had ultimately taken her life, and he was all too aware of that.

  It was her dying, unknown and unfelt by him, that tore at his heart. He blamed himself for not being able to protect her as she had protected him. His inability to do so ate at him, turned him bitter with self-contempt.

  "If I can't even protect one small girl, how the hell am I supposed to protect a kingdom?" he had asked Occultus.

  Despite his friends' best efforts, his vicious, unsettling attitude seemed to grow steadily as though it was a malignancy.

  Something else happened that would cause him sleepless nights and problems—Raja's disappearance.

  One moment she was in the custody of Tran's donjon, the next she was nowhere to be found. Obviously she'd had help, either mortal or supernatural, but her whereabouts could not be traced. She was gone, her two accomplices mysteriously slain. Along with Raja's disappearance, two arrows and two daggers from Conar's personal arsenal came up missing.

  * * *

  Brelan sat beside his younger brother by the fireplace in their uncle's study. "We'll be leaving on the evening tide. Holm will drop anchor near Fealst and I'll find a way to get to Boreas on my own."

  "You'll be careful?"

&
nbsp; Saur smiled. "As careful as I ever am."

  Conar snorted. "Try a bit harder, okay?"

  Brelan put a heavy hand on Conar's knee. "I will." He stared into Conar's face. "I'll never get used to your eyes being that odd color."

  "The darker the eyes, the darker the soul."

  Brelan looked away. He was used to self-contemptible words from his brother, but it still made him uneasy. He wanted to change the subject. "How long do you think it will take you to get to Shalu's palace?"

  "A week. Ten days, tops." A strong hand went through flowing blond hair. "I don't know how long we'll be there, but you know how to get word to me as soon as you've reached Boreas."

  "What am I going to say to Legion?" Brelan was nervous about the answer.

  "Don't tell the bastard anything." Conar stood and walked to the sweeping window that faced the east. "By the time the Raven comes calling at his door, he'll know all I want him to know."

  "But shouldn't I tell him about us? After all, he isn't our enemy. He should be apprised of what we're going to begin."

  He turned and fixed his brother with a hard stare. "Tell him nothing. Understood?"

  "Not even that you're alive?"

  "Especially not that!"

  Brelan walked to him, laid a hand on Conar's shoulder. "They have a right to know you're alive. At least let me tell Eliza—"

  Agonized fury tore across his scarred face. He grabbed Brelan by the front of his shirt and slammed him into the wall. "I will see you in hell before I will let that happen!" he sneered into Brelan's strained face. "You don't tell her shit!"

  "Why?"

  It was as though reason suddenly returned to him and he realized he had his brother pressed against the wall. He backed off, his hands spread wide. He viciously shook his head. "I want no one to know I'm alive. Do you hear? Promise me you won't tell anyone."

  "I don't see what harm—"

  "Dammit! Promise me!"

  "All right!" Brelan yelled back.

  Conar relaxed. He sat on the hearth again. "I have my reasons."

  There was no sense arguing with him, Brelan thought. He'd lose. Men didn't argue with Conar; they obeyed him. "I'll do what you want, Raven."