WINDDREAMER

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  "He's not dying!" Roget snarled. "You may wish he were, but he isn't!"

  "I wish no such thing!" Legion limped closer, his jaw thrust forward in stubborn anger. "I want to see him!"

  "There's nothing you can say to him that would help," Jah-Ma-El answered, joining the men at the door. "He isn't conscious, anyway."

  Legion's face paled. He looked at the floor. "Please," he whispered to Brelan. "I can't let things stand the way they are between us. If he doesn't wake..."

  "He will wake," Roget said, calming as Brelan laid a restraining hand on his shoulder.

  "Let him in," Liza said.

  Brelan turned, eyeing her with astonishment. "He could do irreparable harm!"

  She shook her head. "He'll only help. Despite what has gone on between Legion and me, he means no harm to Conar. Let him in." She went to her chair, sitting with a small sigh of weariness.

  "My fight is not with Conar," Legion said. "He only took what was offered, like any other man would do. I realize that now. He can't be faulted for falling into her trap."

  Brelan glowered at Legion, but he stepped aside. "You won't be left alone with him!"

  "Brelan, please!" Liza shouted. "It is my wish that all of you leave. Let Legion have his moment with Conar. I promise, no harm will come to my love." Her look fused with Legion's. A fierce, warrior-priestess glare frosted the green depths. "I will see to that."

  Shalu gestured the protesting men from the room.

  "You are staying, aren't you?" Brelan asked Liza as Shalu pushed him toward the door.

  "Aye, she's staying," Shalu snapped, looking back at Liza and smiling.

  ----

  For a long moment, Legion stood staring with hostility at Liza. He wanted to be alone with Conar, but knew she would never allow it.

  "I'll take no chances with his life," she said, reading his mind.

  Ignoring her, he hobbled to the bed. He stared down at his brother, thinking how vulnerable and defenseless Conar was, how easy it would be to snuff out the straining life within the man's weak body. He glanced at Liza and knew she intercepted his random thoughts.

  Her chin lifted; her dark gaze dared him. She deliberately turned, walked to the window, and pulled back the drape. Her very nonchalance made Legion realize that she feared nothing from him.

  "You'd kill me, wouldn't you?" he snapped.

  She didn't look around. "If you tried to harm him--I would. You once told me that if anything at all happened to your brother, I'd have you to deal with."

  Legion remembered well Conar's and Liza's wedding night.

  "And do you recall me asking if you would do me harm if I hurt him? Do you remember your answer?"

  Legion snorted, hating her more than ever. "I told you I would, even knowing I'd hang."

  "I would do no less where his safety is concerned."

  A'Lex didn't reply. He took a deep breath and pulled a chair toward the bed. Easing himself down, he laid his crutch on the floor and shifted painfully in the chair, his broken leg reminding him of its painful existence. He clasped his hands, wedged them between his thighs, and let his eyes roam over his brother's form, taking in every detail, from the flushed face to the sweat-soaked sheets.

  "How long has he had this fever?"

  "Nearly the entire time," Liza answered. "They say it lasts..."

  "I know how long it lasts!"

  Legion heard her sigh and turned to see her lowered head. He felt a touch of remorse, but tore away his gaze.

  Withdrawing one of his hands, he gently touched Conar's cheek, instantly alarmed at the hot flesh. He ran his knuckles down the wet cheek. "Have you no cure in your bag of tricks that can help him?"

  Liza looked around. "I have heard a cure was found by the Hasdu tribe, but they aren't likely to provide us with the potion."

  "Not when one of their Princes wants you to mate, eh?"

  She turned away again.

  Legion studied his brother, his thoughts in turmoil.

  When word reached him of Regan's murder attempt, Legion had shouted down the servants who tried to stop him from mounting his horse and coming to Boreas. Despite the throbbing agony in his broken leg, the ache in his shoulder, he hoisted to his stallion's back and, with two servants accompanying him, had ridden hard and fast all the way to the Serenian capital. On the long ride, Legion had at first felt shock that such a thing could have been done to Conar. The shock turned into outrage that Conar had such little protection, even inside his home. With the outrage had come the realization that Legion still cared deeply for the man he had renounced only days before. Then the shame settled in, and he had wanted--needed--to see his brother.

  Through the excruciating ride, Legion had finally heard his conscience--he had time to heed the harsh words of his inner voice.

  He loved each of his brothers in a different way, even Galen when the lad was a toddler. But Conar he loved most of all. This brother meant more to him than all the rest, a love tempered with the protectiveness of an older brother for a younger, as well as the pride in being kin with a man so noble and so loyal.

  There had never been a time in their lives when any form of real animosity had formed between them. There had been childish squabbles and keen competitions, intense games of one-upmanship, but no true anger in confrontations. Only when they had become grown men had any kind of true dissension developed, and even then there had been no real intent to give hurt or cause alienation.

  They had always been fiercely loyal to one another, totally content with the direction their lives would take--Conar's to the throne; Legion's to the Supreme Commandership of the Serenian Forces. No jealousy over Conar and his right to rule had ever entered Legion's mind. It was a given, something accepted by both men as though it were a piece in a puzzle.

  All the real trouble had started with the coming of Liza, that unknown waif who had captured Conar's errant heart. Her presence had altered the relationship between the two men forever. No longer was there room only for mutual love and affection. Now that love was being shared, overpowered by a greater love. An intruder had wedged herself between them, slowly widening a gap until the breech had been made. Now the two men were distant and untouchable, each on separate sides of a yawning chasm.

  "It doesn't have to be that way," Liza whispered, knowing Legion heard her, although he made no comment at her words.

  Legion understood that when Conar was marrying the Princess Anya Elizabeth, his own unspoken love for her had made matters worse. Never dreaming Liza was the woman he was to wed, Conar had offered Liza to Legion, telling him he would see no other married to her. For one moment in time, Legion had dared to hope. But hope died a horrible death when Conar unveiled his bride--Liza in all her glory, smiling at Conar, love in her beautiful face--that it had nearly driven Legion to his knees.

  He tried to blind himself to his true feelings, lying to himself that he was happy for his beloved brother, wishing Liza and Conar well, while all the while a deep and dark passion lurked in his soul.

  After the pain of Conar's leaving--his "death"--settled like a heavy rock in Legion's heart, rage followed regarding Liza's betrayal at marrying Galen. During that marriage, Legion's rage had subsided to an angry vigil of Liza's welfare.

  Galen's death had freed her and Kaileel's edict that she and Legion wed had at first filled A'Lex with intense joy. It wasn't until the actual wedding that the full reality of his situation came crashing down upon him--Elizabeth was now his, and his alone!

  Legion's vows to honor and protect Liza were the easiest vows he had ever made. He set out to win her heart as he had earlier set out to win her friendship, and he never doubted that he would. Their combined and mutual love for Conar became the basis of their friendship; and though Legion never tried to replace Conar in Liza's heart, his own patience and devotion to her helped to dull Conar's loss and she began to love again.

  Slowly at first, then with the safeness of companionship and close proximity to a man who worshipped her, Li
za's heart went into Legion's keeping.

  In the summer before their first child was born, Legion came to realize that her love had ventured beyond the safe confines of friendship and affection. It had finally blossomed.

  Now, it sagged on the vine and withered. The bloom darkened with each passing hour, and the sweet smell turned sour with betrayal. Soon, it would pass to dust and be swept away by the wind, scattered to the four corners of the globe like so much refuse.

  Sitting there, watching his brother struggling to breathe, Legion went over again the truths his conscience had instilled in him on the long ride to Boreas. The knowledge did not set well on his soul.

  It had not been Conar's intent to take Liza away from him. He had returned to Serenia knowing her wed to Legion, yet he had made no claim to his right. For two years he kept away from Boreas Keep and the woman he loved beyond all else. Returning from a hellish imprisonment to find the world as he had known it lost forever, Conar forced himself to stay away until Legion, himself, had unknowingly sent for him.

  Yes, Conar had come only at Legion's bidding, to right a wrong, as was his way. But the close proximity between him and Liza served to reawaken their sleeping passion. Liza had sought him out, Legion knew. She was fascinated by the tales of the man known as Lord Darkwind. Liza's uncontrollable desire for the man, although at the time she had not known it was Conar, had severed their marriage.

  Legion flinched, drawing back his hand as Conar's lids fluttered open. He held his breath as the bright eyes turned toward him. Even glazed with pain and fever, they seemed to focus on him. "You have to fight," Legion said. "You can't let go of this world, little brother."

  "Tell him he must be strong," Liza said, turning to look at Legion. "Tell him he is bound by chains of love and hope to this world."

  "He knows that. Don't you, Conar?" Legion took one of Conar's hands in his own. He winced as he shifted forward, hunching over the bed. "He knows he has to be stronger than he's ever been before."

  The sapphire gaze wavered, then returned to Legion's face. Conar tried to speak, his cracked lips splitting and bleeding. Legion dipped his fingers into a tumbler and brought them, dripping with water, to Conar's lips to moisten them.

  "Can you drink some water?" Legion looked into a face that didn't seem to understand. "Water?"

  "I'll help." Liza walked to the other side of the bed, bent over her lover, and lifted his head for Legion to bring water to his brother's lips.

  More liquid flowed down Conar's chin than into his mouth. "Regan?" he croaked.

  "He's on his way to Chrystallus," Liza answered. "Brelan put him on the ship that night."

  ----

  Conar sighed, his heart aching for the boy. If he were to die, Regan would have the memory haunt him every day of his life, just as the angry, thoughtless words he had spoken to the boy haunted him. Conar knew he had to live, if for no other reason.

  The boy had done only what he had been commanded, trained, to do; Conar knew that. Regan was too young to understand the complexities of Conar's relationship with Tohre. In his heart, Conar knew Regan was horror-struck by what he had done. He could feel the lad's shame and remorse even from a great distance.

  "You have to live to teach him that what he did was not of his own doing," Liza said, apparently hearing his rambling thoughts.

  "She's right," Legion agreed. "They tell me the boy went crazy when he saw the damage he'd done."

  Conar nodded, his lids flickering shut.

  ----

  "Conar!" Legion breathed, sitting even closer to the bed. "You are my brother. Nothing and no one should have come between us. Forgive my angry words, little brother. I didn't mean them. They were spoken by a man insane with jealousy."

  "I know," Conar whispered, his eyelids struggling in vain to open.

  "What is rightfully yours, I gladly return, and will make no further claim." Tears ran down Legion's bearded cheeks. "If I had known you were alive, I would have come for you. I swear it. I would have moved heaven and hell to have brought you back from that torment!"

  "Don't cry," came the ragged request.

  "I love you. I do. You have to believe that." Legion's voice broke. He clutched his brother's hand. He thought he felt an answering squeeze, but when he looked, Conar had fallen into unconsciousness.

  "He knows you love him," Liza said.

  Legion saw the remorse on her lovely face. He released Conar's hand and took up his crutches. Bracing himself, he pushed his body from the chair and stood wavering. "If anything changes, have someone get me," he mumbled, swinging toward the door.

  ----

  Liza wiped away her tears. She had never wanted to hurt this gentle man. He had been a good and loving father, a tender and gentle husband. He didn't deserve the hurt she had caused him. She had made an enemy of a man for whom she still felt great affection, for whom she would always love.

  Legion paused at the door. "You used me," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You made do until Conar returned. I can forgive you that, Elizabeth. He was always your first love." His voice hardened. "But what I will never forgive is the rift you've caused between my brother and me." Opening the door, he hobbled across the threshold, leaving the portal open.

  Liza slid to her knees beside the bed. She felt her lover's pain as she knew he felt hers. This bond had originally united them, still held them securely together. This special purpose kept them as one, despite all that had gone before. In their search to be together, they had hurt the one man they both deeply cared about.

  Kaileel Tohre had tried to have Conar slain. Liza knew why. The sorcerer would have intercepted and imprisoned the soul in the vast limbo of the Void, all alone and lost forever. Her power merging with Conar's was the only thing keeping him alive.

  "You are the Keeper of the Wind, Elizabeth Wynth," the Oracle had once reminded her. "It shall be you who will save him from the clutches of the Brotherhood of the Domination."

  "But how?" she had asked.

  "By blending your power with his. Transmit your power to him. Without the merging, he will never survive what Tohre has planned. Send him your strength or he will be cast into the Abyss for all time."

  And she had merged not only her power with Conar's, but her life, as well. She could feel the strand strengthening between them, like an invisible umbilical chord linking her vital life force with his. Like a mother nourishing her child, she fed him power, strength, her very life. This final bond between them she knew would be there forever.

  Liza placed her hands on his still hand, kissed the light hair that grew on his forearm. Laying her head on the edge of the bed, she began once more the healing rune.

  ----

  Somewhere he heard gentle crying and tried hard to call out. The blackness was steadily closing in on him again. A soft sensation trickled over his arm.

  Then, from out of the darkness, a glimmer of light hesitated, then sparked into a shaft of beckoning streaks. It was the light to which he looked, and it was the soft trickle of his lover's tears that saved him from the advancing darkness. Then came a soft, mournful sound. It was her gentle crying that brought him out of his slumber and into the bright wash of living.

  He opened his eyes and called his beloved's name.

  Chapter 17

  * * *

  Occultus Noire rose from the floor of the Temple of the Wind where he had been sitting for three days. Neither food nor water had passed the Master Sorcerer's lips since the night of Conar's attack. His non-stop, fervent runes and entreaties to the gods and Their ladies during that time had all but caused him a grave illness. Dark circles haunted his tired eyes. His hands shook as he plowed them through the unkempt mass of silver that hung down his back. He felt exhausted, but his prayers had been answered--Conar was awake and once more as vital as he had been before the attack.

  "Master?"

  Occultus smiled thinly, beckoning for the little Chrystallusian to join him. "I am well, my friend. A bit weak in the knees, but
nothing a good steak will not cure."

  Ching-Ching came forward, taking his master's arm when Occultus swayed. "We must get you to the dining hall. The cook has grumbled these last few days that no one has been eating much of her food." A faint grin appeared on the monkey man's thin lips.

  Occultus paused in his steps toward the Temple sacristy. "Do you trust that woman?"

  Ching-Ching shrugged. "The cook is like any western woman. No respect for her menfolk."

  "It is more than a mouth too quick to insult, Ching-Ching." Occultus leaned more heavily on his friend and servant than he would have liked, but his legs felt rubbery, his head light. "Conar has assured me the old woman has treated him so all his life, but there is a vindictiveness in her eyes I think he fails to see."

  "Or does not want to."

  "We will watch her closely. I want nothing to interfere with the coming battle." When Occultus opened the Temple doors, the bright winter sun took him by surprise. With squinted eyes, he looked at his companion. "Holm has spoken to me of the old woman--he does not trust her, either. See what you can discover about her."

  Ching-Ching frowned. "What am I to look for?"

  Going slowly down the steps, Occultus felt nauseous. He swallowed against the feeling. "Find out if there is some reason she should dislike Conar. Something, perhaps, from when he was younger. Ask the servants what she says behind his back." His foot slid from the last stone riser, and he staggered, grateful for Ching-Ching's strength that kept him standing. "Thank you, my friend." He looked down the covered passageway that led to the Tribunal. "That is an evil place."

  Ching-Ching turned his head toward the padlocked Tribunal Hall. "Du Mer told me Conar wanted to burn it, but was advised against it for fear the rest of the keep would go up in flames along with it."

  Occultus nodded. "I can understand why he would want to. Never again will any man have to stand judgment in that horrid place." His eyes went to the whipping post across the courtyard. "That should come down as well. See to it!"