WINDDREAMER

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

"Like trouble here." He looked beyond Paegan's shoulder. "Other than that caused by nature?"

  Wincing, Paegan looked toward the stables.

  "Never mind. I'll see for myself." Striding briskly toward the stable, the man cast his gaze around the debris and seemed to sigh in regret. "This was once a beautiful piece of architecture."

  ----

  Stunned expressions and opened mouths rewarded the man when he entered the stable. His passing brought nervous jittering to the men who sat about the hay bales in the early morning light. They came slowly to their feet and looked at each other, not daring to speak, not willing to draw his attention to them. As he neared Roget and Brelan, bent over Legion A'Lex's pallet, every ear strained to hear the reaction.

  "Damn it, Legion," Brelan said. "Will you listen to reason?"

  "Saur?" Roget du Mer interrupted.

  "Leave me alone! I'm trying to make this fool listen!"

  "Ah, Bre." Roget pulled on Brelan's sleeve.

  Brelan knocked away the hand. "Handle it yourself!"

  "Saur!" came a voice from behind.

  Annoyed beyond belief that whoever called him could not see the importance of his actions, Brelan jerked his head around and started to shout at the intruder.

  The words died in his throat.

  "Where is your brother?"

  Saur coughed, then gagged, his normally placid face turning red.

  "I asked you a question."

  ----

  Legion craned his head around Brelan and looked at the stranger. What he saw lifted his brow in query. The man was obviously someone of importance by the way both du Mer and Brelan gaped in fear. The long, braided silver-white hair, the hawkish nose, and the direct stare could mean only one thing.

  "Occultus Noire," Legion whispered.

  The man shifted his attention to the pallet, smiled, and reached down his hand. "King Legion? I am honored. I have heard much of you from your brothers." He clasped Legion's wrist in a strong grip. "Where is Conar?"

  Legion snarled. "Getting his cock sore, I would imagine!"

  "The woman?" Occultus asked Roget.

  "He'll explain things to you, Master," Roget answered.

  "Oh, I can explain things!" Legion shouted.

  "Legion, don't," Brelan warned.

  "What's the matter, little brother? Don't you think this man knows what kind of bastard Conar is? He trained him, didn't he? Don't you think he knows Conar's the kind of man who steals another man's wife and turns her into a whore?"

  Occultus sighed and looked at Jah-Ma-El, standing nervously off to one side and holding a brandy bottle. He returned his gaze to the pallet, likely assessing Legion's inebriated state. "Conar is in charge of his own destiny. He knows what he wants and has gone after it."

  "And with your blessing, I suppose!" Legion squinted at the man. "Did you help him steal my wife from me?"

  "He does not need my help, King Legion. Your brother has outdistanced my small charge of power. He's far more powerful than any sorcerer who has ever lived. Surely you suspected as much."

  "Aye, but he needed my wife to make him so powerful! My wife, Occultus. Not his!"

  "There should be no division in his mind now, King Legion. I feel the battle is coming--that is why I am here. Conar should be centered, totally aware of what is happening. If he is worried about this division between the two of you, he can make mistakes that may prove disastrous. Mistakes that could take his life."

  Legion shifted on the pallet. "I don't give a rat's ass whether he lives or dies!"

  Gasps of shock came from those gathered, but Occultus held up his hand, calling for quiet. "You know you do not mean that. Be careful what you say, King Legion. Words often come back to haunt us. Conar needs the love and strength of his entire family behind him now. You are furious with him, but you know in your heart he was destined to be with Elizabeth Wynth as surely as the wind blows down from the heavens. She is, and always has been, his chosen destiny. Your love for her, or her affection for you, can not change what the gods decreed long before either he or she was conceived."

  "Then why did They let me have her at all?" Legion cried, tears gathering in his eyes. "I love her! She is my life! Why let me have her if only to take her back in such a cruel fashion?"

  "Just as she was taken from your brother? Whose was the greater hurt, King Legion? Yours or his?"

  Legion attempted to look away from the man's keen stare, but could not.

  "Do you not know that you are your brother's favorite? That you were not only his kinsman, but his best friend? Who taught him how to love, A'Lex? Who cared for him when he came back from the Monastery a child whose soul had been damaged? What other person would the gods have entrusted with Conar's most prized possession than you? You were chosen long ago to be her protector, her champion until the time was right for Conar to reclaim her. Do you really think the gods let Kaileel Tohre make such a decision as that by himself?"

  Legion's cheeks burned with fury. He dared not open his mouth and say what he wanted, for the look on the man's face--kind, pitying--cut him to the core.

  "Think on what I have said. Let not your jealousy and your hurt sway you from what you know is right."

  ----

  Occultus motioned for Brelan and Roget to follow him.

  "Behave," Brelan warned Legion before he left.

  Outside in the first sunshine the keep's inhabitants had seen in many a week, Brelan sighed, keenly feeling the precariousness of their situation.

  "He is with her?" Occultus inquired.

  "We believe so," du Mer answered.

  "Did he cause his brother's accident?"

  Brelan shrugged. "Legion thinks he did."

  "Then he did." Occultus looked toward the forest. "Did no one think to talk to him before this impasse arrived?"

  "How do you tell a man like him 'no'?" Roget asked. "We all saw this coming from the moment Elizabeth stepped foot in Ivor."

  Frowning, his gaze fixed on the forest, Occultus released a long breath. "When a man loves as blindly as Conar, it is not healthy. It is a thing to be feared. He has let this love become the center of everything he does. He has become as addicted to her as he was to the drugs. Conar has stepped over the boundary of love and entered the dark side of obsession." He looked at the men. "What if something should happen to this woman? What would happen to Conar?"

  Brelan made no reply, but her knew the answer in his heart. If something ever happened to Elizabeth, Conar might well cease to exist.

  Chapter 12

  * * *

  "What are you thinking?" Conar drew a lazy circle on Liza's upper arm as it lay across his bare torso.

  She nestled closer to his side. Her fingers smoothed the pelt of hair at the center of his chest. "About how happy I am right now. About how content...how peaceful..."

  "How sated?" he teased, gently pinching her arm.

  She giggled. "That, too."

  "Shameless hussy." He kissed the top of her head, then threaded his fingers through hers and brought them to his lips.

  "What were you thinking, Milord?"

  He drew in a deep breath. "How sore I am."

  Her laughter rang out in the shed. She playfully nipped his shoulder with her teeth. When Conar gathered her to him, Liza flexed her toes against his.

  "Can I help it if I could not get enough of you?"

  "It's your own fault if you're sore." She pulled out of his arms. "I was merely minding my own business and you took advantage of me."

  He raised himself up on his elbow and planted a light kiss on her throat. Lifting a lock of her black hair, he drew it over her lips.

  "Quit tickling me."

  Conar smiled. "It wasn't my intention to tickle you, Madame, but rather to f--"

  "I know your intent, Milord. You've made that perfectly clear since last eve."

  He laughed and lay back down. Putting his hands under his head, he stared at the rafters. A faint beam of sunlight seeped through a hole in the roof a
nd cast light on the floating specks of dust that whirled about the shack. He heard distant thunder and grimaced, hating the idea of another week of rain. "We'd better leave for Boreas soon."

  "Legion won't be able to leave. You couldn't get a wagon through the ruts. How will we get him home?"

  Conar frowned. "He'll have to stay until we can. I'll leave behind enough staff to take care of him, and send supplies until a wagon can make the journey from Boreas." He looked at her. "Besides, he needs time to think."

  Liza lowered her head, mirroring Conar's guilt. They had spent much of the night speaking of what they had done to Legion until the subject--and they--had been exhausted. There would be no turning back, they had agreed, and Legion would have to learn to live with the situation.

  For a long time they rested in silence. A light sheen of perspiration covered Conar's body where it touched hers, and he half-dozed in contentment.

  "Conar?" she asked in a hesitant voice. "What will you do about Regan?"

  "What made you think of him?"

  "Raja."

  He sat up, braced himself on both elbows, and stared at her. "And what made you think of her?"

  "Did you enjoy her? Did she give you pleasure?" Red tinted her cheeks.

  Conar's brow shot up. "If she did, I sure as hell wasn't aware of it."

  "She gave you something?"

  "I wouldn't have touched the bitch otherwise," came the clipped, angry reply.

  "Did she not offer herself to you?"

  "Many times."

  "Then why did you not--"

  "I didn't want her, Liza."

  "And the other?"

  "What other?" he asked, feeling shame over every woman he had bedded since returning to Serenia.

  "The one who was killed in Chrystallus."

  "Se Huan." A memory of her flitted across his mind like a will-o'-the-wisp. He smiled. "She slept with me, but I did not make love to her."

  "Amber-lea?"

  He frowned. Was she going to ask about all the women he'd screwed? He knew he deserved it; after all, on more than one occasion, he had brought up her lovers--Galen and Brelan and Legion. He shook his head. "I don't love her."

  "Yet she is carrying your babe."

  "She loves Brelan," Conar said, a hint of resentment in his voice.

  "I know! What do you intend to do about her?"

  "Take care of the babe if Bre doesn't marry her. But I believe he will when we get back to Boreas. He's as much as said so."

  "And Regan?"

  "I haven't given it much thought, but I believe it would be best if I sent him to Chrystallus. I don't trust him around Corbin. The boy has too much of Raja in him, for my tastes."

  "He's a lonely child. I think he needs love and understanding. Perhaps you are right, though. If you send him to your Aunt Dyreil, she will see to it he is cared for, won't she?"

  "Aye. And Wyn, Coron, and Dyllon can help her. Maybe all he needs is time to adjust to this way of life away from Tohre and his kind." He sighed. "Until this thing with the Domination is settled, I don't have time to give him or Corbin the attention they deserve."

  "And no time to give to any other women?" she asked, searching his eyes for the answer.

  "No, Milady. No time for anyone who would try to take your place."

  "Could someone take my place, Milord?"

  "You know better."

  She rested her forehead on his shoulder. "I know they had better not try."

  In the soft glow of sunlight, he grinned. Liza was as possessive of him as she had ever been, and it made him happy. He felt gratified and safe and at peace for the first time in a long while. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head against hers and fell asleep.

  * * * *

  He took a deep breath, careful not to rouse the lady curled at his side. He heard again the sound that had nudged him awake, and listened intently, suddenly alert.

  Easing Liza out of his arms, he rolled away. He came to his feet and reached for his dagger, clamped it between his teeth, then searched for his breeches. Finding them, he hastily drew them on, slipped on his boots, and stepped to the doorway. He was about to open the door when Liza stirred. Her mouth formed silent words of inquiry. He put a finger to his lips and silently commanded her to stay where she was.

  "Conar?" came the call from outside.

  He groaned. "I don't need this..."

  ----

  Liza saw Conar go absolutely still, an unbelieving look on his face. He half-turned toward her, a blush on his high cheekbones.

  "Who is it?" she whispered.

  "Come out, Conar," issued the voice in stern command.

  He sighed, opened the door and stepped over the threshold, closing the door behind him.

  "So," came the voice, "what tragedy have you set into motion?"

  Liza scrambled to draw on her gown, struggling with the buttons as she tried to fasten the back. She slipped into her shoes, padded softly to the window, and peered out.

  She saw Conar, his head down, hands thrust into his pockets, standing before a lofty, distinguished-looking gentleman, speaking to him in such a low tone, she could not hear. The toe of Conar's right boot dug into the ground; he looked like a schoolboy being reprimanded by a headmaster. Occasionally he would lift his eyes to the man, wince with what could only be guilt, then look at the ground again. When the stranger laid a hand on his shoulder, he flinched as though about to be hit, and shook his head.

  "What the hell is this?" Liza mumbled, not liking the way the tall man caused her beloved obvious humiliation and pain.

  She jerked open the door and hastened toward them, wondering at the look of avid shame on Conar's face as he glanced at her. She swept her gaze upward to the handsome face of the older man.

  "Queen Elizabeth," he greeted, sweeping her a courtly bow. "I have looked forward to meeting you."

  Ignoring the man's words and look of friendliness, Liza turned to Conar. "Who is this person?"

  "Ah, protective of her love, is she." The man began quoting a popular poet. "'That nary an arrow fly his way. With her own breast she does his agony take, and then send him merrily on his way.'" He gave a low chuckle. "Do you fight his battle for him, my Queen?"

  Liza found something about the man offensive, despite his admirable clothing and elegant manner. "Who are you?"

  When he lifted his hand, palm out to her in a gesture of peace, she gaped at the pentagram burned into his flesh.

  "Like your beloved, I, too, once felt the fire of the Domination's wrath. Like him, I survived, much to Kaileel Tohre's dismay."

  "You are Occultus," she said, understanding coming over her with his bemused smile.

  He swept her another deep bow. "I am he." His dark gaze moved to Conar and filled with affection. "I was not shaming him in any way, Milady. Only reminding him of what is to come." Once more he put his hand on Conar's wide shoulder and squeezed. "I would not think to play his conscience for him."

  Conar smiled hesitantly. "You don't need to reprimand to have me feel your disapproval."

  Occultus shrugged. "Not disapproval, nor even disappointment. Simply exasperation with your single-minded stubbornness." He looked at Liza. "There was never a question of his reclaiming you, Milady. He knew that."

  Liza cocked a brow. "Is that so?"

  "It was only a matter of time." He smiled. "That he did not bide that time well is understandable. Such is his character flaw, I think."

  "Quite." At Conar's look, Liza smiled sweetly. "He is like unto a mule at times, Master Occultus."

  The man laughed. "Come, let us return to the stables. If my instincts are correct, we should leave this place soon, for rain is coming again." He put his arm around Conar's shoulder. "Tell me what you have planned."

  * * * *

  In the shadows of the forest, behind the spreading branches of a fledging black walnut tree, Regan watched the trio leave the clearing before the potter's shed. His lip turned up in hatred for the tall man.

  "He'll com
e sooner or later," Kaileel had warned before sending Regan to Boreas. "He'll not be able to stay away. But he is of no importance. I will see to that. Do what you must and make sure the tall one does not overly take note of you."

  "I hate you," Regan snarled, switching his stare to his father's back. "And I hate you!"

  Conar's words to the woman regarding his plans still sang in Regan's ears. He would die before being sent to that ice-cold country where Conar planned to exile him. He lifted his chin and narrowed his eyes.

  If he could not be with his father, his father would be with no one!

  Chapter 13

  * * *

  Rain misted along the road leading to Boreas; occasional thunder rumbled in the distance. But for the most part, the journey home wasn't as bad as everyone had predicted. Occasionally they found the roadway washed out and a detour became necessary, but the bridges, although waterlogged, proved sound, and the horses made good headway in the muck and mud.

  Stopping at noon near a farmhouse, Sentian and Marsh were sent to buy provisions for both the traveling party and those who remained at Ivor. Marsh would take the goods back to the stable at Epstein for Legion and the four servants left behind to care for him.

  "The farm is fairly rich," Sentian informed Conar. "They were glad to provide food. I believe you know the owners." Sentian smiled and lowered his voice. "The lady says she is Wyn's aunt, Monique."

  Conar remembered the woman, the sister of his eldest son's mother, Myra Luz. He looked across the clearing to where Liza sat with Occultus, their heads lowered as they spoke in quiet tones. When she glanced his way, he winked, she smiled, and Occultus reached out to regain her attention.

  "He's quite taken with her," Chase remarked, carving himself a piece of roast turkey. "I actually heard him laugh a while ago."

  A glimmer of jealousy entered Conar's mind, but quickly vanished. "He admires her talents."

  "Who doesn't?" Duncan chuckled. "Don't glower at me, Conar. The woman's not bad to look upon."

  After the meal, the group set off for the last ten miles to the keep. The mist had turned to a hard sprinkle. Though the riders huddled into what warmth their protective oilskin capes could offer, many sneezes and sniffles rang out as the party neared the redoubt of Boreas Keep.