Father Josef blinked and straightened. “I am.”
“Then you heard my oath to her. I would have her hand in marriage.”
“King Valche, do you object?”
Shannari glanced at her father worriedly, but Rhaekhar recognized the gleam of greed in his eyes. Not for titles or riches or whatever outlanders valued, but for the warriors such a joining would bring his daughter. Rhaekhar didn’t mind, as long as none opposed. She wouldn’t be pleased if he had to beat some sense into her father.
“I do not object.”
Shannari cupped Gregar’s cheek and turned his face up to hers. “The Lady’s Moon shines in Gregar’s eyes, too, Khul’s own Shadowed Blood.”
Barely breathing, Gregar looked to Rhaekhar, his dark eyes swimming suspiciously.
“I accept Gregar at my Khul’lanna’s side.”
Swallowing, Gregar looked back into her eyes. “Shannari, Khul’lanna of the Nine Camps of the Sha’Kae al’Dan, is my beloved Evening Star. I shall guide my life by her light until the day I die in her defense.”
His smile of love made Rhaekhar’s own heart squeeze in sympathy, with dread. It would break her heart when Gregar died.
* * * *
Shannari couldn’t stop the tears, the joy welling up in her heart. Love, two warriors to love, when she thought her heart was dead. Thank you, Blessed Lady. Thank you.
“Very good,” Valche said, smiling.
Her father must be too enamored with the barbarian horde she’d have access to as Khul’lanna to think too carefully about the oaths she’d just taken with two different men. “How did you get here so fast? Fenton said you were far to the south with our main army.”
“Your brilliant idea of fast Keldari horses.” King Valche replied proudly. “We only had two hundred horse, but we doubled up on each mount and we were able to keep up with your Khul for the most part. Now give me a few months to peacefully dethrone Theo— ”
“No, Father. Theo must die.”
Cold shadows trickled down her neck. Where before the Blood’s eyes were dark with misery, now the Shadow of Death hovered in his gaze. The Death Rider waited for the word from her. One nod, and he would ride to Shanhasson. She knew it.
:No.:
:Are you sure, na’lanna?:
She felt immense pleasure from Gregar at the simple touch of her mind, her words, through a bond he’d never let himself hope to feel. Not with the temptation of her blood always tormenting him.
:I shall relish the chance to terminate him.:
“Not yet,” she said aloud. “Our Blessed Lady has a purpose that I don’t yet understand. I feel— ”
She hesitated, trying to understand. She’d chosen so poorly last time, so blinded to the Lady’s true will.
“Trust your heart, Your Majesty.” Father Josef kindly patted her shoulder. “Our Blessed Lady will never fail to guide your heart.”
She took a deep breath, listening to her heart so full of love. All she wanted to do was fall asleep with Rhaekhar’s heart beating against her cheek. To smell her beloved warriors, feel their heat warming her, their hair covering her, their love protecting her. She wanted to ride for the Plains immediately.
Rhaekhar’s arm tightened around her. :Your wish is my— our— command, na’lanna.:
Which reminded her of the silver mare. “Where’s Wind?”
Rhaekhar shared a solemn, reverent look with Gregar. “Your na’kindre waits for you outside with my Blood. How do you know her name?”
“She told me.” She turned to her father and the priest. “Make sure the news of Theo’s betrayal of Allandor spreads across the land. His threats to kill me unlawfully. His declaration that Leesha has no power in Her own High Court. Meanwhile, I’m leaving with Khul as soon as he desires to ride.”
“Our Blessed Lady will Call you when it’s time.”
Her stomach rolled with fear. Facing the Shadow in Shanhasson alone was much easier than contemplating her beloved warriors dying to protect her.
Rhaekhar gripped her chin, his fingers hard, his gaze gleaming with determination. “You will not face Shadow alone. I offer all that I possess to help you fulfill your destiny. My Camp, my warriors, my Blood’s life, my own life. What would you have me do?”
“I want the Nine Camps united beneath their Khul.”
Her supreme warrior smiled. “With you as my Khul’lanna I can do no less.”
So much love. Smiling through the tears, she rubbed her cheek against his fingers. Without looking away from his burnished golden gaze, she reached out her hand. Gregar took it, nipping the heel of her palm teasingly. “Let’s go home.”
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
Jerking against the chains, Theo wailed. “It’s just a dream! A dream!”
Then why could he hear the air slicing as the lash descended on his back again? Why could he feel the blood tricking down his sides? Why were his wrists raw from trying to free himself from the chains that bound him flat on his stomach on cold, unforgiving stone?
THE COST OF FAILURE IS BLOOD AND PAIN. SHALL IT BE YOURS, SERVANT? OR HERS?
“Hers! I swear it! Give me another chance, Great Lord, I beg you!”
DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT YOUR FAILURE HAS DONE? I FELT HER KNEELING ON THE GREAT SEAL! I TASTED HER FEAR AND HER BLOOD! YET SHE ESCAPED YOUR DUNGEON AND MY GUARDIAN. EVEN THE HIGH PRIEST’S DEATH CANNOT REMOVE THIS STENCH OF FAILURE.
NOW SHE WILL MATE THE HORSE KING AND SPAWN MORE FOALS OF THAT HATED BLOOD! MORE BURNING BLOOD TO BLAZE AGAINST MY DARKNESS!
Whistling through the air, the lash descended again and this time vicious teeth bit into his back and buttocks. Howling with pain, he thrashed helplessly when chunks of flesh tore away.
YOU LIKE THE PAIN, SERVANT.
Panting with fear, he twisted against the chains desperately. No, not pain. Not blood. No! Trapped between his stomach and the stone floor, his erection throbbed in agony. Black tendrils of shadow stroked his skin, tasting the blood.
YOUR TAINTED BLOOD IS SWEET, SERVANT, BUT NOT AS SWEET AS HERS. IMAGINE HER BLOOD PAINTED ON YOUR SKIN. IMAGINE HER BODY BENEATH YOU AS SHE WAILS WITH PAIN AND HORROR. IS THIS NOT YOUR HEART’S MOST SECRET DESIRE?
“Yes! Oh, Lady, forgive me!”
The oppressive weight of silence warned him.
FORGIVENESS? YOU BEG her FORGIVENESS?
Shrieking rage blasted through him, squashing him against the floor like a spider beneath a manure-encrusted boot. Crashing waves of agony and torturous hate hammered him again and again, while the many-mouthed lash ripped meat down to the bone. Drilling, merciless pain filled him while he screamed without sound.
KILL HER! KILL HER! KILL HER! KILL HER! KILL HER! KILL HER! KILL HER! KILL HER!
“I will! I swear it!”
KILL HER!
AND THE SUN WILL NEVER SHINE AGAIN!
* * * *
Hands scrabbling through the tangled sheets, Theo jerked awake. Pain seared every inch of his shuddering body with the final spurt of his seed into the mattress. Gasping for air, he brushed the silken strands of her hair out of his face. Her unforgettable scent of roses had nearly faded from the shorn hair, but not from his memory.
Roses and more, hot and tantalizing and forbidden.
Would her blood smell as good? Taste as good?
He gathered her hair beneath his cheek like a pillow of black, fragrant silk.
Shannari.
-The End-
* * *
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The Rose of Shanhasson Page 29