Sailkeeper's Bride

by Annie Windsor

  Castle staff swirled around him like ants, cleaning, picking up, making way for Home Guard warriors and returning Fleet officers as they came to give report. Light smoke stung his eyes and nose.

  Wood and cloth, burned.

  There had been a battle in the castle.

  Sweat gathered on Fari’s neck.

  Chairs, tables, paintings, tapestries—hacked to pieces and smoldering.

  Even as he neared the war room, the path of destruction did not diminish. It looked like a wall of flame had blazed a path from the castle doors, down the passageway—and straight into the heart of Camford.

  Where Georgia had gone, to stay safe with Elise.

  “No.” Fari kept his blade drawn. He moved at a hard run now, intent on reaching the chamber where Georgia should be.

  If she were injured, he would go immediately to find the fergilla who harmed her. If she were—he couldn’t even think it—but if his shanna had not survived this strange fire, Fari would kill those responsible and simply fall on his blade’s barbs and have done with it. He would not—could not—live without his beloved.

  A crowd of staff and warriors clustered around the inner chamber’s door.

  “Move aside,” Fari demanded.

  They parted like the sea, but chatter flailed him as he rushed toward the closed door of the Captain’s quarters.

  “The Lorelei…”

  “ The fire-haired one, Georgia…”

  “She saved them…”

  “Heard she used her blades…”

  “But what burned the halls? It had to be…”

  Blocking out all words, all psi-babble, Fari hurtled through the chamber door. If it had been locked, he likely would have walked through it, as if it were no more than papyrus.

  Georgia’s two ruby blades lay on the floor.

  The chamber’s bed was coated in blood.

  No!

  A shout of rage and pain rose from Fari’s core. His fingers strangled his sword hilt as he raised the weapon, turned—and came face to face with his brother.

  Ki Tul’Mar was grinning like a drunken youngling. In his arms lay a swaddled bundle, and from that bundle, a tiny pink fist jabbed into the air. Elise leaned against his arm, looking exhausted, but otherwise hale.

  Hanging on Ki’s other arm—

  “Georgia.” Fari dropped his sword. “Shanna!”

  And then he was holding her, reveling in her softness, drinking in her woman’s scent of wild berries.

  “My daughter,” Ki was saying, as if from some other universe or dimension. “Ilya has arrived. My beautiful daughter!”

  Sha. Georgia’s thoughts reached out and took hold of Fari’s. I love you.

  Fari’s cock stiffened to stone. He picked Georgia up, intending to carry her back to his bedchamber and straight to the bath basin.

  Already he could imagine her skilled hands, soaping him from head to toe. How sweet her nipples would taste in his eager mouth. He wanted to spread her legs and fuck her in the water. It would feel like flying.

  She nuzzled his neck, conveying her approval—and the ache of her pussy. I want you inside me. I want you so much!

  Fari turned to leave the room, but a wounded warrior stumbled in, bleeding from his neck and arm, and fell on the floor.

  The soldier was Kolot, Krysta Tul’Mar’s second in command.

  Georgia stiffened in Fari’s embrace, and he set her gently back on her feet.

  Ki handed his daughter back to Elise and shouted for healers.

  Two priests hurried in and knelt by the injured man. Neither was Akad, and for some reason, this increased Fari’s growing disquiet.

  “Where is our sister?” he asked in the calmest voice he could muster.

  Ki’s soft growl added emphasis, as did Georgia and Elise’s collective intake of breath.

  The priests worked furiously to stem Kolot’s bleeding, but they were obviously losing at the effort.

  A new beast of anger roared in Fari’s mind and heart as he guessed the truth.

  Darkyn Weil’s strange plans no longer seemed strange.

  Dastardly. Infuriatingly cunning.

  And the last plans the Outlander bastard would ever have the pleasure of pulling together.

  Fari’s own words, spoken just after the attack on the shipyard, came back to barb his heart.

  If Weil wanted a Tul’Mar, he would have sent a small army…

  Kolot reached out a feeble hand and gripped one of the healers by the robes.

  “Taken,” he gasped. “Krysta…Outlanders…they took her.”

  And then his eyes closed, and he spoke no more.

  Chapter 19

  “What are we going to do?” Georgia followed Fari and Ki into the war room, too exhausted to be strong. Too tired to think clearly. “How will we get her back?”

  All vestiges of desire and triumph had been wiped clear by the knowledge of Krysta’s kidnapping. The events of the day had left Georgia irritable and frightened beyond measure. Whatever happened after Tiger-Eyes left that chamber, it had been horrible. All the banging on the door. All the yelling. And the halls of Camford were scorched bare, like some fire tornado had tried to spin its way into the castle’s heart—or out of it.

  And then worrying about Fari, and the dead soldier—thank God the priests had taken Elise back to her own chambers with Ilya.

  Two less people to worry about, at least for the next five seconds.

  Fari hadn’t spoken a word to Georgia since he abandoned their bath plans and put her down. His handsome face radiated rage, and his thoughts remained a closed subject. Ki’s narrowed black eyes communicated plenty, though.

  Focus. Desperation. Hope, and yet…hopelessness.

  “You should leave us.” Ki tapped controls on the war room’s single black table, and star maps sprang into view—on the table, the walls, the ceiling. The room’s intense, thick pa coating gave Georgia a drugged feeling. The whole place suddenly felt like a shadowy tomb.

  She became aware of the sour sweat and battle stench emanating from Fari and Ki. That odor, mingled with the stink of burned wood, made her eyes water. Still, she folded her arms and insisted, “I want to help.”

  “My brother asked you to leave.” Fari’s cold voice shocked and chilled Georgia. “We must concentrate, or Krysta’s life could be forfeit.”

  “I don’t think so.” Georgia shook her head, smarting from Fari’s brush-off. “If the Outlanders had wanted to kill people, they would have killed us.”

  Fari cut her a sharp glance. “What are you saying?”

  “The man I told you about, Ki.” Georgia addressed the Sailmaster, hoping for a more logical response. “The one who saved Elise and Ilya, then fought off those two goons. I’m sure he was an Outlander, maybe a captain or some other leader, like I said.”

  “They attacked us to take Tul’Mar hostages.” Fari gazed through Georgia, keeping his attention on the star charts. “Why would they leave you untouched? Likely some low-bred fools who did not realize their boon. You were in the military chambers, after all.”

  Georgia felt heat rise to her cheeks. Fifteen minutes ago, this guy had been ready to carry her off to a relaxing bath, fuck her for hours, marry her, then fuck her for days. Now he talked to her like she was a brainless schoolgirl.

  What was wrong with him? His expression was so strange. A cross between fear, defeat—and other things Georgia knew only too well. Self-doubt. Old pain.

  Warning flutters in her belly told her Fari had gone to some other place. Some other time. Somewhere awful he hadn’t told her about—even though she’d told him about Chuck, the rape…

  Bastard.

  Choking back anger, she pressed ahead, trying to reason with him. “The man spoke archaic Ardani, only it was the high speech Krysta and Akad told me about and showed me in books. He had no telepathic skills. And, he had a shiny black stone in his skin.” She pointed to the center of her stomach. “Right here.”

  Ki straightened. Even in t
he room’s odd darkness, Georgia could see the flush of rage claiming his face. “Outlander. Yes, he was, as you suspected. The scum.”

  “Two of them were scum.” Georgia kept her eyes away from Fari. “The ones he fought off. But that Outlander made Ilya breathe and stopped Elise’s bleeding.”

  “So he could take more Tul’Mar hostages,” Fari grumbled. “Or slaughter more Tul’Mar victims.”

  Georgia groaned. “No! That’s what I’m trying to tell you. He could have killed all three of us, or taken us at any time. That’s what Frick and Frack—I mean, the two goons—wanted to do, but the man who helped us wouldn’t let them. I think he kept fighting in the hall, after I closed the door. Until the fire or whatever happened.”

  For a time, the brothers fell silent. Georgia suspected they were sharing a private psi-conversation, but she didn’t try to eavesdrop. Instead, she studied the myriad of star charts, trying to figure out where Arda was in the diagrams.

  It was Fari who broke the silence. “We appreciate what you have told us. Please, go to Elise now, and let us plan how to get Krysta back.”

  “I want to help with the plan.” Georgia heard the sharp bite in her tone. “I’m not stupid. Maybe I can think of something you’d miss.”

  “On Arda, this is usually a warrior’s work,” Ki explained, sounding too nice.

  “Don’t pull this warrior’s work shit on me,” Georgia snapped. “I’m the one who drew swords on that yellow-eyed bastard when I thought he might hurt us. I’m the one—“

  Fari held up one hand. “What did you say?”

  “I said I’m the one who was ready to fight Tiger-Eyes for Elise and Ilya. If that doesn’t make me a warrior, I don’t know what does.”

  “He was here!” Fari turned and grabbed Ki by the shoulders. “Damn the stars! Even as I fought—Darkyn Weil—“ and the rest degenerated into strings of curses.

  “W-Weil? No.” Georgia felt sick again. Like she had when she first saw the stranger’s—Weil’s—yellow-bladed axe.

  Fari’s outburst masked a powerful misery. It all but filled the room as Ki grappled with him to calm him down. Georgia wanted nothing more than to go to Fari, but better sense held her in check. He suddenly seemed alien to her, even more alien than Weil.

  What churned inside him?

  Why hadn’t Fari shared this pain with her?

  Damn. Self-recrimination nudged out more personal concerns as the totality of the situation came home to Georgia. Maybe he’s mad because I had the Outlander chief at sword-point and let him go!

  But in truth, what she had done was her best, defending Elise and Ilya. They had survived until Fari returned. Wasn’t that worth something?

  Stop! Fari’s blinding psi-response hit Georgia like a slap. For your life, and the life of Elise and Ki’s heir, I am grateful. But in other matters, I have made a grave error.

  “What’s with you?” Tears pushed through Georgia’s eyes, threatening to spill. “You’re mad about so much all of a sudden. Not just Krysta. Not just me. What is it? I’m your lover. Your fiancé. I’m supposed to be your wife soon. Talk to me!”

  Fari made a sudden move toward her, but Ki caught his brother around the neck. “This is wrong, Brother. The past sits heavily with you this day.”

  Fari made no effort to struggle with Ki, who had the clear advantage. Instead, he focused his thoughts on Georgia.

  I cannot protect you. That much is obvious. Go to your cousin, to the family you can trust and treasure. As for me, for us—I was mistaken. A good fuck or two or ten does not make a soul’s mate. We were not meant for each other. We will not be joined.

  Pain crushed Georgia’s chest, and she moved her hand to her heart. Maybe if she pressed it tight inside, it wouldn’t fall out and break.

  Now, get out of here, Georgia Steel, Fari continued. Get away from me before real harm befalls you.

  Do not listen to him! Ki’s psi-voice intruded, but Georgia couldn’t follow Ki’s suggestions. He is not fit for decisions now. The pain is too great.

  Shrugging off Ki’s pleas, Georgia stumbled and fumbled her way to the war room door, feeling attacked and left for dead inside. She barely knew when she was out of the room, or where she went, or how she got there.

  Elise…asleep with her new baby, bathed in the light of her husband’s love—something Georgia couldn’t bear to see, at least not this moment.

  Krysta…kidnapped.

  Fari…the man she thought she loved, the man she believed loved her as well, turning on her and showing his true self.

  Georgia had never felt so betrayed, so hurt, or so lost.

  Or so completely confused.

  The castle walls constricted her, and she had to get out. Flee. Go somewhere. Anywhere but here. Arda was a big planet, right? And if she found a speeder, she could travel. To an OrTan slaver skull, if she chose.

  Fucking. Obviously what she was good for. Why not? What did it matter?

  The curtains around her thoughts closed like iron, and she latched them shut. Enough of this psi-bullshit. It didn’t matter. Psi-talk just gave an illusion of knowing someone. It just made it easier to get sucked in at a deeper level, and really fucked.

  Somehow Georgia made her way to the stables and found Lia. The Chimera’s fetching yellow hide glowed, and Georgia had a hard time not thinking about Darkyn Weil’s unnatural blades.

  Still, she mounted without tack or bridle. Daring something that only Krysta did, Georgia reached to her animal’s mind.

  Away from here. Her instructions were clear, focused. Take me someplace where no Tul’Mars will trouble me.

  Stable hands scattered as the great Chimera wheeled around and bolted under Georgia’s imperative.

  The last sight anyone had of the Sailkeeper’s former woman was as a blaze of yellow hide, red hair, and the flash of silvery hooves.

  Chapter 20

  “You are twelve kinds of fool.” Ki slapped Fari across the face just inside the door of Ki’s bedchamber. Fari didn’t flinch. Neither did he defend himself.

  “You drive your shanna to let go her past, to surrender her old wounds and love you,” Ki continued as Elise looked on from the bed, nursing Ilya, “but you—oh, no. You refuse to do the same. I cannot believe your conceit! Do you think love and trust flows only one way?”

  Fari winced at this. It had been two days since Georgia went missing, and slightly longer since Krysta had been kidnapped. Family losses. Horrid, wrenching losses that could not be reclaimed. And they were his fault, as always.

  That is ridiculous, Brother. Even Ki’s psi-comments came in growls. “And it is that sort of thinking that may cost you the love of your life—and your sanity. This time, and this time alone, the loss is your responsibility. You have driven Georgia away from all of us. How do you think Krysta will feel about this when she returns?”

  Krysta. The Outlanders had sent word in the form of a package, addressed in the old high speech and the unmistakable flourishing hand of Darkyn Weil himself:

  Your soldier is safe. See that she stays that way. Give us no pursuit, and we will soon discuss the situation. You will know our demands, and if we reach successful compromise, this warrior will be returned to you unharmed.

  With the letter came two tokens. A black falcon feather, and Krysta’s leather jumpsuit.

  It galled Fari. He should have known. How could he have sent his sister blindly into some bizarre Outlander trap? Just as he sent his parents into hostile skies, poorly armed, unaware…

  Elise shifted Ilya to her other breast. She had spent so much time crying that her eyes were red-ringed and swollen. “Why didn’t Georgia come to me? I don’t understand. What did you do to her? Tell me, damn it, or I’ll kill you in your sleep. When you least expect it.”

  This threat, at least, caused Fari a moment’s worry—and a moment’s levity. He had known Elise’s vengeance in the past, aboard Astoria, when Ki first found her. Her temper could be less than pleasant.

  “I did nothing but ca
ll off our marriage,” he said in quiet, even tones.

  “Why?” Elise sounded incredulous. “Because of Krysta? The kidnapping?”

  Fari stiffened. “If I cannot protect those I love, then I must not draw them into danger by pretending I can.”

  “You’re an idiot,” Elise snapped. “I have never heard anything so stupid.”

  Ki positioned himself between Fari and the bed where Elise lay, functioning as a formidable shield against Fari’s quickly building rage.

  “The time has come for you to cease visiting your ire on others, Brother.” Ki’s ominous warning carried the imperative of command. “Yourself included. No protector is perfect.”

  “I should be!” Fari raised both fists and smashed them into Ki’s chest, but Ki didn’t so much as shudder. “And I have searched for Georgia. Her thoughts are closed. The trail ended around Browntown, as if she simply vanished. And yet, I do not think she became an Outlander hostage.”

  “Well, maybe you’re not a total idiot.” Elise relented. “Just a perfectionistic male. I should have known.”

  Fari blinked, trying to stem the tide of timeworn images. His mother’s smiling face. His father’s strong handshake. Their vacation schooner blown to bits before it left Arda’s orbit. He choked and coughed to clear his throat, but could not speak.

  I will locate Georgia, he said through the family psi-link. If only to assure her safety as best I can and bring her back here, to you.

  “If Georgia doesn’t want to be found, you won’t find her.” Elise sighed and shifted Ilya once again. “We had too many years of hide-and-seek, running from my aunt, from other kids at school. Running from the fact we were orphans. I know my cousin. She’s a master of escape, of running away. She’s gone somewhere you aren’t. Where the Tul’Mar name holds little sway is my guess. And she’s plotting.”

  “Plotting what?” Fari imagined waking to the whistle of two ruby blades as they plunged to eviscerate him. Not that he wouldn’t deserve it—but, still.