She stood there in the moonlight. Not seeing how it framed the silhouette of her body, the form of it in stark reveal underneath the material. She was a shining thing before them and it stilled Bracus' breath.
“Look upon her!” Matthew whispered on a hiss.
Bracus did. Tears rolled down her face and she glided over the dense carpet of cool moss soundlessly. Standing before him she raised a shaking hand to his cheek and held it there. “I am so sorry...but I love you both.”
Matthew released Bracus and he scooped Clara into his body, cradling her against him. “I cannot let you go. I cannot bear to see you with him,” he said as he buried his head in her neck, wrapping her up in his massive arms.
The three of them stood that way silently for a time. Finally, Clara extracted herself from his embrace and looked at Matthew and Bracus. Blood had congealed and lined Bracus' brow and temple, Matthew's jaw was swelling near his chin. Scrapes and welts peppered their bodies, their gills fully open from the fight, their eyes boring into hers.
Clara had made up her mind. “I choose no one.”
They came to her then, both of them pulling her against them and Clara began to cry harder, she would have to let them go so they could find happiness. She was not their answer. Select of no, she was a source of strife and animosity. She could not be that. She must rule and not always be selfish.
There was sometimes sacrifice with justice. A true ruler would lead her people with fairness and keep their happiness above her own.
One could not always have their heart's desire.
Clara's intellect had decided for her but a splinter of her heart belonged somewhere else.
What was left beat without joy.
She sobbed while four arms held her against them for the last time, pieces of her joyless heart breaking off and floating away.
CHAPTER 15
It may have well been a funeral wake. The listless group approached the sea's edge without pleasure. The events of the past night known to all.
Charles was pleased beyond measure. He had always known that Clara would not choose the savages. They were simply not a good match for a royal. Even one of savage blood. Mayhap she had seen reason and would finally look upon him in the correct light.
A romantic one.
He was trying for patience but the way she moped about like a schoolgirl rankled him mightily. Sarah flew around her like a butterfly, so concerned. It was ridiculous. She would get over her infatuation in a few weeks and realize the ineptness of wedding with anyone but one from the sphere. He and Clarence had conferred at length and they both saw the same thing: royals of the sphere should marry within the sphere. It seemed a simplistic enough idea.
The alliance was a fine thing in theory and mayhap some of the women of the sphere would choose to marry the clansmen. But the thought they would be forced to wed with the brutes of the Band? They seemed entirely ill-suited to domesticity. But rather, protection should be their sole purpose. Had not the Guardians, in their infinite wisdom, seen to some things well? There was a reason for everything, Charles believed. As a point of fact, he was concerned that Clara's new knowledge of the supposed Travelers bordered on blasphemy. One knew that the Guardians were the saviors of the sphere-dwellers. The absurdness of the time travel theory was beyond him. Perpetuated by the fragment.
Heathens spreading gossip. And he was supposed to believe their secondhand story told from the mouth of a clan girl not yet ten and four years? No!
His internal musings were brought up short by Clara as she hiked her skirt up, brazenly showing the skin of her ankles and dipped her feet in the water. Charles sighed, she had certainly changed since her introduction to Outside.
Evelyn waded in beside her and before long the girls were getting themselves drenched. Charles deliberately reminded himself that she was royal.
It was not without effort.
*
Clara grinned as she put her toes in the sea, lifting the hem of her skirt to not soak it, dragging sand everywhere she went.
She looked up as splashing permeated her senses and Evelyn was there splashing her. Clara turned and heaved water into her face. Evelyn began choking and Clara showed no mercy, splashing continually until Evelyn dove underneath the surface and drug her beneath the cool waters.
Clara had only swum in the cool fresh water lakes they had at the edge of the fields and this was much different, the sea teeming with life. Evelyn's arms wrapped around Clara and she panicked.
She could think only of the river that Tucker drowned her in.
Her gills burst out of her throat and sucked in oxygen and Clara was suddenly breathing. She opened her eyes and turned in Evelyn's arms, shoving her away.
Rough arms plunged beside her and latched onto her arms, jerking her out of the water in a rush.
It was Bracus, Matthew at his side. Tears trembled on Clara's lashes, the memory of Tucker so near she could taste it on the air.
Then with great effort she looked about her, telling herself this was a different place, a different time.
That the strong arms of the Band held her.
“I'm sorry, Clara. I did not think...” Evelyn began then burst into tears.
Clara opened her mouth to respond and seawater poured out. Bracus turned her and she did not fight it but let it come. It was less like vomiting this time and more akin to expunging.
Finally, catching her breath she turned to Evelyn. “Fret not. I cannot help that memory surfacing.” She gently took herself out of Bracus' hold and he released her.
“He was but worried, Clara,” Matthew said by way of explanation, his hungry eyes burning into hers, her body responding despite her will.
It was most difficult, filling her with sadness. She felt Bracus' warmth leave her arms and she felt bereft.
They had agreed to be her protectors, honoring her decision to be her suitors no more. As she looked at their faces, she was unsure of herself, the decision wavering within.
Philip interrupted her weak moment with, “Captain, others approach.”
Bracus looked at Matthew for a heartbeat and Matthew nodded, clasping Clara to him they evacuated the water.
Clara was acutely aware that her dress now clung to her like a second skin, gills naked on her throat, her bronze hair in coiling wet spirals laying everywhere, dripping.
She was unsightly. And had never looked less like a queen in her life. Ada would have beaten her for an entire fore-night and she shivered at the thought, Matthew glancing down at her and he held her tighter.
How she loved him, stifling a sob.
Gripped like she was in his arms, her heart a splintered mess, she watched the group gallop to the shore, the sun shining on the leader.
Her hair shone as spun gold with the sun at its zenith, her tunic laced tightly around a figure that curved exactly like Clara's.
She stopped within two horse lengths of Clara and she looked into her eyes.
Lavender colored eyes.
“Daughter,” she crooned in a husky contralto.
*
“Rowenna,” Clara acknowledged and a golden brow arched. Clara fought not to squirm under her scrutiny. It was not such a difficult thing to manage after her years with Ada.
Her eyes broke contact with Clara and they touched on each person in the group. They settled upon Anna and she started. Joseph pulling her subtlety in against him. Rowenna followed his movement like a falcon, her expression puzzled.
“I know you. You were there that day at the marsh when we traded with the Red Men.”
Anna nodded. “Aye, it is I.”
“Your Band seeks you,” Rowenna stated, studying her.
She cowered back against Joseph and he put her behind him. “She has not need of that Band. She is part of our clan now.”
Rowenna set the reins of her mount over its neck and dismounted. Clara watched her walk toward them and as she did Bracus and Phillip spread to either edge of their group, Clarence pairing with Philip and
Charles with Bracus.
Rowenna swung her gaze to the men. “Fear not, I come in peace.”
“Be that as it may, you are a foreign Band, with higher number,” Bracus stated the obvious with a massive shrug.
She stopped her advance, looking at him. “Are you captain of your Band?” she waved that away. “I am Rowenna, from the Band of Cape Cod and you are...?”
Bracus strode to her and one of the Band which rode with her trained an arrow on Bracus. He paused. “That arrow feels very much like war, Rowenna.”
She looked up at him from beneath long lashes, femininity wrapped in a dangerous package. “Maddoc, do not.”
He kicked his heels into the sides of his steed and moved toward them. Dismounting beside her he said, “Mother, let me stand beside you.”
“I do not need your protection,” she replied levelly.
Bracus raised an eyebrow, skeptical.
The young Band member smiled. “She speaks true. However, she is a rare female of the Band and my mother as well.” He shrugged. “She cannot stand unguarded while a warrior of a different clan approaches her.”
“That is wise, but I would not harm a female, Band or no,” Bracus said.
His face sobered. “There are some Band whom garner corruption. It is rare but it does happen.” His gaze traveled to Anna and she looked back, bewildered.
Clara felt there was some critical thing they did not understand and would soon find out. She hoped it was a surprise of glad tidings. She could very much use such.
Bracus put his fist over his heart and said, “I am Bracus, Captain of the Band of Ohio.”
She echoed his movement with one of her own. “It is very good to know you, Bracus.”
“And I, you.”
Her attention turned to Clara as she approached. Clara stood her ground. Rowenna's gaze traveled from the top of her head to her feet which were buried in the sand. The sea grasses whistled as the group stood quietly.
Her eyes went to Matthew's. “Is this your mate?”
Clara shook her head, a strange tingle taking residence in her chest as she drew near. It felt like a faint chime. She was reminded of the great steam-powered clocks of the sphere and what they sounded like at a great distance.
Matthew drew her in tighter and Clara almost smiled. He was protective in an obsessive way. She had never known such concern for her welfare. If it had not been such a complication she would have reveled in it.
“He behaves such. Very much,” she said.
“She is not yet mated,” Bracus said from behind her and Maddoc looked at him curiously.
Rowenna did not turn. “I see.” She looked at Clara's throat. “Why do your throat slits meld with your skin?”
Clara's hand touched her throat and found it bare of the gills which had laid there moments before.
Maddoc's brows shot down over his eyes. It was then that Clara gave her full attention to him. He looked as she did, down to the ivory skin and deeply bronzed hair, his eyes the color of the sea that were steps from her feet.
“She is some kind of half-breed,” Maddoc said with a derisive tone.
“Hush, do not speak thus of your sister,” Rowenna said and all eyes turned to Maddoc. His face turning slightly pink at the attention, his expression sullen.
Clara did smile then, he had more success in fighting the blush that she had never beaten.
Her brother looked down at her with something like disgust and she was instantly sad. She could not help what she was.
Matthew growled low in his throat. “Apologize boy, or we will teach you respect. She is a queen of her people,” his hands balling into fists.
But it was Evelyn that strode up to him and slapped his haughty face. The sound competing with the roar of the surf. Clara gasped and put her hand over her mouth. Evelyn could barely reach his face. She stepped back and put her hands on her hips. Her drying hair lay as dark gold to her waist.
“You insult our queen! You know her naught. From what great well of knowledge do you ken?” she asked reasonably. As if she had not just slapped a male that stood six foot three and two hundred thirty pounds, a full foot taller than she.
A male that had the imprint of a palm on his pale skin.
Rowenna laughed, a deep throaty thing that startled everyone around her.
“Perfect!” she clapped her hands. “This tiny female,” and she looked at all the males faces, “is brave beyond measure. I did not need to discipline my son when she does such an exquisite job.”
Evelyn blushed fiercely at the backward compliment but stood her ground.
Maddoc looked at her, their gazes locking then that gaze shifted to Clara. She was shocked anew at the uncanny resemblance to herself. “Your friend has made me see reason. I apologize for my choice of words.”
“I accept. As it were. I have no other family. I am glad of you. Even if I am not pure.”
Matthew squeezed her arm in reassurance and she fought not to lean into him gratefully. Mindful of Bracus' gaze on her face.
Rowenna swiveled her head toward Clara. “What say you? Raymond is no more?”
Clara shook her head, fighting the rush of sadness that always came upon the mention of Father.
She looked at Matthew. “Let me embrace my family.”
He looked down at her, his heart in his gaze. She closed her eyes against the emotion she saw there, she could not bear it.
“I will be near you.”
She nodded and turned away from him.
She walked to Maddoc and he looked down at her neutrally. She reached out to touch his face, expecting rejection but he smiled brilliantly when her flesh touched his. And he captured her hand. “You are kin, I can feel you,” he said in wonder.
Clara knew exactly what he meant, the chiming a precious bell peal in her heart. He reached down and lifted her off the ground in a great hug, his face at her neck, where she could feel the soft crush of his gills against her.
“Sister, please forgive me,” he whispered against her ear.
“Worry not. There is nothing to forgive,” she replied.
He put her down and looked at her. “You look so much like us, yet, you are such a tiny thing. Mother,” his gaze swept to Rowenna and it occurred to Clara that she had utterly forgotten her presence. “Look upon her.”
Clara thought better of her that she had let them connect first.
Rowenna came to stand beside Maddoc and she looked at the pair. Rowenna, who had looked so tall, looked petite next to her son. “Yes, she is of mixed blood. But for the height and the disappearing throat slits, she could be from our Band.”
“Do you feel it?” she asked Clara suddenly.
“What?” Clara asked.
“Does the sea not sing to you? Does it not call your blood?”
Clara nodded. She had felt the call, the bell.
“I thought that was between us. Because we are family?”
“It is the sea. But it is also us. We are of the sea, it mingles within the very marrow of our bones.” She splayed her fingers, webbed lightly at their intersects and put them between her breasts. “Do you feel it here, as a bell which rings.”
“Yes,” Clara said breathlessly.
Maddoc nodded and they smiled at each other.
She was home. She tried to catch Maddoc's eyes but they were on Evelyn and Clara wondered out loud, “How many years are you, Brother?”
His gaze swung back to her. “I am ten years and almost seven,” he said proudly.
Good Guardian! He was a monster and not yet seventeen.
He saw her expression and said, “What say you, Sister?
“You are...” Clara lacked the words.
But Evelyn interrupted with, “I am certain that he is quite done growing.” And she crossed her arms.
Clara tried to cover her expression and appear neutral but it was difficult as the rest of the group were grinning. Rowenna especially.
Maddoc was not. “I am as I should be for my age. I
will be as the others when I reach my full maturation.”
“If you say it is so,” Evelyn said, managing to sound like she was quite knowledgeable on the subject.
“It would seem that there is one female that does not think that you are the perfection of the sea,” Rowenna said.
Maddoc gave her a withering look. He gave Clara's shoulder a squeeze as a temporary goodbye and she winced. He looked at her for a heartbeat in question then stalked off to his mount.
Rowenna looked after him then turned to the group with a smile. “Come, let us celebrate with a feast. We have much to discuss,” she said, looking at Clara significantly.
She had five Band with her and they made introductions and helped the small group break down camp.
Clara saw Bracus heatedly debating something with Rowenna and Clara came upon them and they grew silent.
“What say you?” Clara said in her plain-spoken manner.
Bracus glowered and Rowenna smiled as if nothing was amiss. Clara knew trouble when she stumbled upon it.
“Your captain was outlining your quest and made mention of your courtship with he and Matthew.”
“That is true. We have an alliance of one year now,” Clara said, looking from one to the other.
Rowenna sighed. “We will have discussions after the evening meal. Come,” she said, holding out her arm. Clara walked to her and looped her arm through Rowenna's.
They walked away together and Clara looked at Bracus over her shoulder.
Thunder rode his face.
CHAPTER 16
Clara was overwhelmed. The Clan of Cape Cod was large, much larger than the Ohio Clan. She looked about her, positioned at her mother's right hand, which had an ironic surrealism. She watched her brother as the small amount of young females flocked around him. He was quite handsome to look upon. He had not forgotten that she sat across from him and she often caught his gaze lingering on her. He was as curious as she. The two a mirror of each other, save for size.
A sudden thought occurred to Clara and she waited for a break in the conversation Rowenna was having with another of the Band.
The Savage Blood (Savage Series, Book 2) Page 11