He dropped to his knee before me, taking my hand to bring it to his thin aristocratic lips, to kiss.
“Highness,” he began, his voice rough. His eyes, no longer surveying my wounds, plunged deep into my own. Filled with raw, unreasoned fear, his emotions echoed my own, from only a few hours before. “Where is he?”
With Kel’Ratan’s strong arm to support me, I hopped away from Bar’s bulk. I may have just discovered I cared for the big slave deeply, but the grief in Rygel’s eyes told me he loved Wolf first. I suppressed the tears filling my eyes, knowing that tears must dry up now.
“My lord,” I said, unsure of how to tell him. “He has been taken.”
Rygel drew in a sharp breath. “Brutal?”
I hesitated, feeling the eyes of Bar, Kel’Ratan and my warriors on me, reluctant to say it aloud. Wolf was dead.
“The Shekinah Tongu.”
While the faces of Kel’Ratan and my warriors looked blank, Rygel’s face waxed even whiter, if it were possible. His eyes flattened to mere slits, his body tensing, his knuckles white on his sword hilt. I read the violence emanating from him in waves of hate as he plunged away from me. I still watched him as he turned his back, but saw from my peripheral vision Kel’Ratan look from me to the wizard and back again.
“Who are the Shekinah Tongu?” he asked.
When Rygel did not answer, I told him in a low voice what Wolf had told me. “The Tongu are hunters, paid by Brutal to find us and bring us back. Both of us. They use hounds—”
“Hounds of hell,” Rygel snarled.
I waited for him to say more, but he walked a few steps and looked off into the distance. His body trembled much as my own had done, his breath coming and going in sharp bursts. After a long, tense silence, he turned back.
“No one really knows where they come from,” he said, his voice rough. “But all know them for their evil. The High Kings have been using them for centuries to assassinate rivals, enemies, whoever. They are an ultra secret clan, but can be found and bought if you have enough money. Their skills as hunters are legendary.”
He paused, and shrugged. “I expect I should not have been surprised Brutal sent them after you. I should have warned you he might. It’s my fault—”
I held up my hand and Rygel fell silent. “Even had you warned us, there was nothing any of us could have done.”
I briefly told them, in clipped tones, of what occurred the previous night: the race to the wall, climbing to the roof of the house, my jump from the wall resulting in my injury. I omitted only our argument, as I felt that was between Wolf and me.
When I spoke of this, Rygel frowned. “Let me look at it.”
I leaned back against Kel’Ratan as Rygel knelt at my feet. With a gentleness that surprised me, he examined my foot and ankle, his touch light and comforting. The throbbing pain lifted, subsiding under his sensitive hands. I wondered if he sent any healing magic into it, as it felt so much better when he rose up. The regretful cast to his eyes told me he had not.
“I will need time to heal this, Highness,” he explained. “With healing your griffin, I am not up to my full strength yet. But I promise I will soon.”
Before I could answer, Kel’Ratan scooped me up into his arms and placed me in the saddle of his horse. Bar and my warband fell into protective formation about me, Kel’Ratan walking at his horse’s head, hurrying back to the monastery. Rygel also chose to walk at my stirrup, Witraz leading his black by the reins. “What else happened, Your Highness?” he asked.
“Wolf carried me, as I could not walk,” I said, still reluctant to tell Rygel his friend was dead. “We headed toward the escarpment, hoping they would not catch us before we reached it. But they did.”
I told them of the hounds, their tied muzzles, their claws and ferocity. I told my attentive audience of the fight, of Wolf going down, the Tongu tying his hands behind his back. When I would have told them of the Tongu’s intent to rape me, my voice faltered and I stopped. Kel’Ratan and Rygel exchange a glance.
“Ly’Tana?” Kel’Ratan prompted softly, stopping the horse to look up at me.
“The Tongu—” I began. “They were going to—They wanted—”
I could not say it. I bowed my head, my hair hanging low to conceal my face and my shame.
Kel’Ratan spoke for me. “Rape,” he growled.
The rage I heard in his voice was felt by his sensitive stallion, who spooked and shied. I could only nod.
Witraz cursed fluently, his invectives blistering the air.
“I’ll tear them limb from limb,” Alun growled. “With my bare hands.”
“Not if I get to them first,” Rannon snapped, running his fingers down his thick mustache. “I’m going to cook them over a slow fire. After I castrate them with a rusty blade.”
Left and Right, not venting their fury with their voices, contented themselves with dark, murderous expressions that promised death by agonizing means for the Tongu. Only Rygel cocked his head as he gazed up at me, remembering the words I had actually spoken. “But they didn’t, did they, Highness?”
Again, I shook my head. I drew in a deep shaky breath, fighting back the tears. “It was close, though. Wolf saved me. He saved me from rape. He saved my life.”
I told my rapt listeners of the ear-splitting roar of rage, of Wolf breaking the leather thongs that bound his hands behind his back, of how he fought the Tongu with naught by his rage and his hands. Choking, I told of his voice in my head, commanding me to run.
Rygel actually smiled. “Aye, rape tends to get Wolf irritated.”
“His irritation saved Her Highness’s honor,” Witraz growled from somewhere behind me.
“I ran. Like a coward I ran.” I felt glad my hair hid my face, hid my shame from Rygel, from Kel’Ratan, from my boys. The confession did naught to ease the grief and pain. “I ran and he died. I left him behind. Wolf is dead.”
Rygel jerked away from me, much as I expected him to. “Nay,” he snarled. “Raine is not dead.”
He spun on his heel and walked stiffly back toward the monastery. Kel’Ratan sighed and followed after, still leading his stallion. Bar walked next to me, occasionally nudging my arm with his beak. I rested my arm on his feathered neck, holding him as close as I could.
Kel’Ratan gestured toward Bar. “Is there more, Ly’Tana?”
I nodded, still hiding my face. “Three of them tracked me down. Had Bar not found me, they would have taken me.”
In clipped tones, I told them of Bar’s murderous fury, but neglected to tell them of how I feared him after. I was already a coward enough in their eyes.
Grief and shame still flowed in my heart, and I selfishly wondered if my warriors would continue to follow me, a self-admitted deserter. Perhaps their absolute love and loyalty would die now. My race admired courage and loyalty above all else. A milk-sop who not just ran from a fight but also abandoned the one who saved her scarcely deserved their respect, much less their devotion. Would they look at me with contempt in their eyes? Eye me with hate and derision, and mount their horses to ride home, leaving me to fend for myself? I heard the hooves of their horses still surrounding me, but I stared resolutely at the back of Kel’Ratan’s red head. Every inch a coward, I dared not look around to see their expressions.
At the camp, Kel’Ratan lifted me down from his stallion, helping me to sit on a log beside a cheery fire. I did not see Rygel, but heard his tense voice as he muttered in a language I did not understand from behind a nearby apple tree. Perhaps he, too, would feel disgust at my cowardice and ride away without healing me, despite his promise. Kel’Ratan eased down beside me, offering a hot drink to my hand. I drank it, not caring what it was. Despite the late morning heat, the warm mulled wine tasted wonderful.
Rygel stormed into the monastery. I tried not to care about his abrupt disappearance, and hoped he would leave without the acid comments I knew he was capable of. Such would fuel my shame. My warriors might even borrow his example and utter their own caus
tic comments before they mounted their horses to ride away forever.
Within a moment, he emerged, another cloak over his shoulder and a satchel strapped over his chest and resting on his hip. I met his gaze, expecting hate in their yellow depths. Hatred and contempt for me running in panic and leaving Wolf to his fate. Instead, I saw a strong determination beneath the exhaustion and pallor. Again, he knelt at my feet.
“Please, Highness,” he asked, his voice soft, “tell me where they have him.”
I reached out to brush an errant lock of hair away from his fierce eyes. Sorrow warred with my shame, and temporarily won out. I knew then that I liked this temperamental, angry young wizard, despite his disrespectful and irascible moods and his hatred of me. I wanted nothing more than to embrace him, and weep with him.
“Rygel,” I said, my voice quiet. “Wolf is dead.”
He shook his head firmly. “Nay, Highness, he is not. I would know it if he was dead. He’s alive.”
His firm belief stunned me for a moment. Hope grew within me. “How do you know?”
“I cannot explain just now,” he snapped, his temper flaring once more. “Trust me, he’s alive.”
I looked at Kel’Ratan beside me, his own doubt revealed in his heavy frown. I looked back at Rygel, kneeling at my feet.
“Heal me,” I commanded. “I’m going with you.”
Kel’Ratan roared in negation, and Bar hissed. My warriors also rumbled their dissent. So deep in my expectation that my warband now hated me, I glanced up in surprise. All seven of them: Witraz, Alun, the twins, Rannon, Yuri and Yuras shook their heads, glanced at one another. Why did I see new worry clear in their faces? They should hate me, and they were right to hate me. No face I glanced at looked back at me with hate or derision or disgust. Tears threatened to choke me once more, and I turned back to Rygel.
He shook his head at my demand. “I’m sorry, Your Highness,” he said firmly. “You cannot go with me.”
The relief from my band at his words grew audible in sighs and shaky laughs, Kel’Ratan slumping as his preparation to fight me over this waned.
I leaned forward, my face inches from Rygel’s own. “You will take me with you.”
My voice, soft and deadly quiet, silenced everyone. Even Bar sat still, watching my confrontation with Rygel unfold. Rygel expertly avoided my eyes, shifting his own to the ground, once more shaking his head. “I cannot.”
“Why not?”
“I intend to fly.”
All eyes, including my own, whipped to Bar. He sat unmoving, knowing as well as I did that he could never fly with Rygel on his back. Bar had nearly killed himself flying from the escarpment with me on his back, as light as I was. Rygel’s weight…impossible.
“Explain.” My tone left no room for Rygel to argue.
He ran his hand restlessly through his hair. “I have a power you do not, Your Highness.”
“Obviously.”
He rose from his knees and backed away from me. Before I could command he stand still and talk, he changed. His body ran and shrank, folding down onto itself, growing smaller and smaller. Something dark erupted from his skin, grew and flapped. It all happened within seconds, so fast my eye could almost not follow it. I blinked, hearing gasps from all around me.
Where Rygel had stood now rested a hawk.
A beautiful hawk, a hawk of an uncertain species I had never seen before. Red-brown feathers, tapering to gold on its wingtips, covered its sleek trim body. Bright yellow eyes peered up at me, and a sharp trill burst from the pale gold beak. It quickly preened a wing feather, then chirped again.
It suddenly began to grow in size, to change, its feathers running back into itself. Once more Rygel stood before me, smiling a small sad smile.
“You see, Highness? You cannot go with me.”
Using Kel’Ratan’s shoulder as a crutch, I stood up, resting my injured left foot on the ground for balance. Walking, limping, to him, I grasped his shoulder and gripped hard. Commanding his gaze, I stared deep into Rygel’s own uneasy eyes, and smiled a smile of my own. He tried to back away, but my hand on his shoulder grounded him as effectively as a steel trap.
“You will change me into a bird,” I said softly. “You will teach me to fly. And together we will get Wolf back.”
Before he could form a protest, Kel’Ratan stood beside me, his arm around my waist. “She’s right.”
I had expected to fight my kinsman as well. Surprised and gratified, I fumbled for his hand and squeezed tightly.
“You need help, my lord,” Kel’Ratan went on. “You have the power to change both of you. Though I am shamed to confess it”—Kel’Ratan glanced around with a sheepish smile—“I am terrified of the thought of being changed into a bird.”
“Me too,” murmured Witraz.
Alun, always quiet, clasped his hands behind his back, his mouth pursed in a moue of horror. Yuri and Yuras, always eager for adventure that got them headfirst into trouble, dared each other to step forward. Rannon looked aside, finding the grass quite fascinating. Left and Right merely stared back, expressions closed, refusing to volunteer.
For a moment, Rygel looked mulish, a stubborn scowl twisting his handsome aristocratic features. I tensed myself to fight him, ready for his arguments, prepared to command him should he refuse to accept my company. Yet, his furrowed brow smoothed out as he rethought, his thin lips reformed the scowl into a thoughtful frown.
“Aye,” he agreed, a reluctant smile lightening his harried face. “With healing you and him, I’ll certainly pay for it later, but it’ll be worth it. I’ll accept your help, and gladly. I’d best heal you now then.”
With a quick extended hand, he respectfully indicated I was to sit back down. With Kel’Ratan’s hands under my arms, I did so. Rygel knelt once more at my feet and took my injured leg in his hands. Again, I felt warmth and comfort from the contact, and knew he had not yet started his healing magic. For he yet gazed up into my eyes with concern.
“Highness, this will make you want to sleep. My healing comes from within you as well as me, which is why patients need food and rest after a healing. I tap your own body’s strength, and draw from it. You will be weakened.”
I smiled. “Then we will most definitely need each other.”
He smiled, a rather sweet, shy smile, one that would have women falling headfirst at his feet. “I reckon we do, at that.”
With one hand on my ankle and the other on my brow, he closed his eyes. Not certain of what I should do, I closed my own. Within a moment or two, I felt a strange powerful heat, not quite a pain, slide upward from my ankle. It spread and encompassed my entire body, making me gasp. Heat grew to flame. My blood reached the boiling point, my lower leg flaring with the light of the sun behind my closed eyelids. Dizziness threatened to swamp me, my stomach roiled and threatened to heave up the wine I had drunk. Dark spots danced behind my closed eyelids, adding to the chaotic nausea.
Yet, as quickly as it came, the heat died and I slumped helplessly against Kel’Ratan. Blackness tried to take me down within its tempting folds, and I wanted nothing more than to let it. I resisted, fought off the weariness, and opened my eyes. I pushed against Kel’Ratan’s shoulder, setting aside his helping hands, and sat upright.
What I saw in Rygel’s face must have mirrored my own. Sweat dotted his brow and upper lip; his eyes, earlier haggard with tiredness, now drooped with exhaustion. This is not good, I thought. This had all but drained his power.
I got to my feet without thinking, then remembered my ankle. It bore my weight with its former strength, no hint of the agony I felt previously. I glanced down, seeing a bare leg and foot, filthy and crusted with old blood. It felt well and strong and whole.
“My lord,” Rygel said, wearily getting to his feet. “Will you get Her Highness some clothes? I may need to change her back into her human form and she will need her clothes and weapons.”
Humor briefly touched his mouth and eyes as he glanced at me. “For as much as I admi
re a naked woman as beautiful as she is, it would probably be best if she were clothed and armed.”
His eye dropped in a ghost of a wink, more friendliness in his manner than I had found before now. Did he no longer hate me?
I felt a blush creep up to my cheeks as Kel’Ratan rumbled an agreement and took me by the hand. He ushered me into the monastery and the chamber I used, where he considerately turned his back as I dressed myself. I donned a leather tunic and breeches, and boots of soft doeskin that fell just short of my knees. Kel’Ratan located a sheathed sword and dagger on a belt. Holding them out to me, he smiled sadly. I recognized Sele’s weapons, taken from her corpse before her funeral. Tears threatened anew as I buckled the sword across my back. I hoped Sele would not mind if I borrowed her weapons for a time.
I strode through the monastery doors, Kel’Ratan at my heels. My boys stood close together under the apple trees in a thick cluster, talking in low voices. While they still watched about them for trouble, I also caught them sneaking quick glances toward me as I walked down the hill. Heat climbed my cheeks. Ah, so they did consider me a coward. So be it then. I raised my head, refusing to hide despite the ache deep within my heart. I lost Wolf, and now I lost the love of my people. Who would I lose next?
Kel’Ratan took Rygel aside. While I knew they intended no one overhear their words, I listened intently and heard anyway.
Kel’Ratan seized Rygel by the arm. “You will keep her safe from harm,” my cousin rumbled.
He stared deep into Rygel’s eyes, a fierce blue gaze I knew intimidated stronger men than Rygel. If Rygel was the least bit intimidated, he did not show it. Rather, he clasped Kel’Ratan’s arm in a gesture of camaraderie, taking Kel’Ratan’s words not as a threat, but as a plea.
“My life on it.”
Kel’Ratan nodded once, a jerk of his head. Satisfied, he gripped Rygel’s shoulder briefly.
“How will you bring Wolf back?”
“I wish I knew,” Rygel replied as I walked over to them. “Until I am there and can assess the situation, I can only say wait for us.”
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