WINDDREAMER

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  * * * *

  Amber-lea turned over in her sleep and sighed, snuggling closer to the warm back in front of her. Wiggling as close as she could get to the heat of Brelan's body, she smiled and opened her eyes, her long lashes fluttering against his bare flesh.

  "Are you awake, Milady?" he whispered.

  "Aye, Milord."

  She moved back as he turned, lifting his arm to bring her into the comfort of his embrace. Her smile widened when he planted a light kiss on her forehead, then drew her closely to him.

  "I look forward to waking every day like this," Brelan said, entwining his toes with hers under the covers.

  "So do I, Milord." Her eyes widened as the babe inside her moved.

  "Ammie?" he whispered in awe, withdrawing his arm and pushing himself up in the bed. He pulled back the cover and put a trembling hand on the slight mound of her belly. As soon as his strong fingers settled on her, the babe leapt again.

  Looking into Brelan's brown eyes, Amber-lea saw the hesitant, almost reverent smile begin to stretch across his mouth. As the babe kicked a third time, Brelan's beautiful eyes lifted to hers and his grin became glorious to behold.

  He laughed, rubbing her stomach with his palm. "Our son moved!"

  A part of her flinched at his words. Although in her heart she had given this child to Brelan, it was actually the seed of his brother, Conar, that grew inside her. Brelan had made no mention of it, had seemed not overly concerned that another man's child grew inside his wife-to-be, but Amber-lea knew there had to be some resentment in Brelan, even if he did not acknowledge it.

  "It is a boy, you know." Brelan chuckled, looking into her skeptical eyes. "Liza said as much." His superior smile made Amber-lea's heart leap. "Now I'll have a daughter and a son." His smile vanished.

  Suddenly fearful of the worried look on his face, Amber-lea reached out to him with a shaky hand. "What is it, Milord?"

  "We have to marry, Ammie!" he said as though the thought had never before occurred to him.

  "You asked me to wed you last eve, do you not remember?" she asked, fear putting a catch in her voice.

  "Aye, but it must be soon! Before we depart for battle." He stared at her. "My son will have a name before I leave Boreas!"

  Relief spread over Amber-lea, and the first faint stirrings of impending wifehood nuded her. But her internal misery must have caught Brelan's eyes, for he drew her into his arms.

  "He is my son. Or at least, he will be. Conar will not gainsay me."

  "But he is the babe's father. Will he not want to claim him?"

  Brelan's eyes narrowed. "I haven't spoken to him about it--there was never time. I'll mention it today. I don't think there'll be a problem."

  Amber-lea couldn't be sure.

  * * * *

  Liza wasn't surprised when Conar asked for Legion. It had been just under a day since he regained consciousness. She got up from the bedside chair to tell the guards of her lover's request. After sending Storm Jale on his way, she shut the door, her face set in challenge.

  "There will be no confrontation," Conar sighed, obviously recognizing her expression. "I will settle this thing between us."

  She twitched with unease. "He no longer blames you."

  Conar's dark eyes filled with hurt. "I know who he blames. I'll not have him making the kind of remarks he made at Ivor."

  Liza clutched her hands in front of her, nervously fiddling with the piping on her skirt. "Conar, your brother loves you, and he feels I have betrayed him. Perhaps I did, but--"

  "But nothing. We will settle it between us, Legion and me."

  "Do you want me to leave?"

  Conar nodded. "And when you see Brelan, tell him I need a message sent to Ciona and I want him to take it."

  Liza drew in her lower lip between her teeth and gazed at her lover.

  One of his thick gold brows elevated. He sighed, as if expecting the worst. "Tell me."

  "It's Brelan and Amber-lea. They wish to marry before--"

  "Good!" Conar's smile looked warm, genuine. "The babe should have a name, don't you think?"

  "Just like that?"

  "Like what?"

  "You just agree?" She glared at him. "No shouting or bellowing? No commands?"

  His lips twitched. "I'm sending him to Ciona to get his estate in order before I allow him to take Ammie with him there. They can be wed as soon as the banns are posted--in three days, if we post them this morn--but I want her to have a home of her own as soon as they are wed. What's today? Saturday? Ciona is a three-day ride, but if I know Saur, he can make it in two, do what needs, and be back in time to marry his lady on Friday. He can take her to Ciona, stay a few days for his honeymoon, then rejoin us before we go into battle."

  During Conar's supremely indulgent speech, Liza stared at him with open-mouthed wonder. The man never failed to amaze her. His eyes glowed with his plan--one he had not bothered to discuss with the two parties whose lives he so merrily arranged--and he smiled as though he bestowed great wisdom on the situation.

  "What of the babe?" Liza asked, watching his eyes fall immediately to her belly. "Amber-lea's babe."

  "Oh," he mumbled, his smile slipping a notch before he lifted his eyes to hers. "It's a boy, you know."

  "I know!" she said in exasperation. "What will you do about it?"

  "Ours is a girl."

  "Conar!"

  He sobered, patting a place beside him on the bed. When she settled, their fingers laced together, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips. "If Amber-lea and Bre want the babe to know his true father, they may tell him. Or if they wish, I shall tell him when the boy is old enough. Otherwise, he will be my nephew and I will love him as I do Legion's brats."

  "Legion's brats?" came a growl from the doorway.

  Both Liza and Conar jumped, their heads turning simultaneously.

  "I meant no--" Conar began.

  Legion waved a hand in dismissal. "No offense taken. I've often called them brats myself." His pale eyes swept disdainfully over Liza, then alighted on his brother. "How are you feeling?"

  Liza stood, smiling at her lover before moving toward the door. Her eyes met Legion's as she passed, but he pointedly looked away, his gaze settling on the wall. Nervously, she closed the door behind her on the way out.

  ----

  "You are better?" Legion asked.

  "I hurt in one or two of the wounds, but I'll be fine by the end of the week." Conar pushed himself up, wincing.

  "Will you be able to walk Amber-lea down the aisle?" Legion grinned. "I overheard."

  "You may have to do it for me." Conar chuckled and inclined his head toward a chair. "Can you stay a while?"

  "Ah, yes," Legion sighed, moving to the chair. "Our little talk. Why do I feel like I used to when Papa sent for me?"

  Conar's smile widened. "It's the room."

  Legion looked around. "Maybe so." His own smile vanished. "What are you going to do about Regan?"

  Something flickered in the sapphire depths of Conar's eyes. A shadow crossed his face. He tore his gaze from Legion to look at the coverlet across his lap. "I'll have to deal with him when I get back." The soft words sounded remorseful.

  "He really isn't to blame in this."

  Conar nodded.

  "After the attack, Sentian hauled his little ass down to his room and locked him in. I am told he was kept there until Holm could ready the ship for Chrystallus. Gezelle tells me the boy cried and cried, but no one would go to him. Everyone was ordered to stay away."

  "By whose orders?"

  "Brelan's."

  Conar heaved a disgusted sigh. "Sometimes my brothers take too much on themselves where my problems are concerned. I'll speak to him. He had no business treating the boy that way."

  Legion shrugged. "You have to understand that everyone was terrified that you would die. That was your own dagger the boy wielded; the only weapon that could have slain you, I'm told. There were some who wanted to hang him then and ther
e."

  "Who?"

  "You don't need to know. They wouldn't have been given the chance, anyway. The child only did what he had been taught to do, and I don't think killing you was really part of the plan."

  Conar's eyes glaze with fury, with something terrifying in the steady, unwavering stare. "I want him, Legion." The throaty demand had been spoken with a calm, icy determination.

  Legion couldn't stop a smile from spreading over his mouth. He shook his head at Conar's look of surprise. "I know whom you mean--Tohre. It was just the way you said it. Like the way Papa used to speak when annoyed with one of the Barons--I want him, Hern!"

  "A bit too pompous, eh?" Conar blushed.

  "A bit."

  "It can't be helped. I want that bastard's head on a platter. I won't wait any longer for him to plan another vile scheme."

  Legion lowered his head. "I wanted to talk to you about--"

  "The matter is settled. I'm not angry at you. I understand your hurt. I've lived just such a hurt myself. Remember?" At Legion's nod, he went on. "All I ask is that you not revile her to anyone inside the keep. She does not deserve that."

  Legion looked up. For a brief moment, a great resentment made his temple throb. The old streak of fire sparked, and he wanted to wipe the calm, commanding look from Conar's face.

  But he knew he wouldn't. He knew he couldn't. He had fought the best he knew how in order to hold the woman he loved, and in the end, he had lost her. Lost her to the man to whom she rightfully belonged. He didn't have a prayer at winning her back, and knew it. He also knew she belonged--had always belonged--with Conar. Though the thought rankled, he accepted it.

  "Your love was the stronger," he finally answered.

  Conar shook his head. "My love was the chosen destiny. I have a feeling we love her the same."

  "Aye, I imagine we do."

  "We are to be Joined this eve." Conar watched as Legion nodded silently. "Will you be there?"

  "Do not ask it of me."

  "I won't. It will be a small ceremony with only the leaders of the Wind Force in attendance. No pomp and circumstance this time."

  "That's good. There's no need to call attention to the doing of it, but the people should be told."

  "They will be, when we are once more husband and wife."

  Conar threw the covers from his legs and, holding his side, tried to swing his legs off the bed. Grimacing, he leaned against the headboard, panting from the effort. He closed his eyes until the pain subsided.

  "All you need do is ask and I will help, little brother."

  Conar opened one eye and raised its brow. "To piss?"

  "I'll help you stand," Legion quipped. "I'll get the pot, even hold you steady while you do it. But I won't hold it, nor aim it, for you!"

  Chapter 18

  * * *

  "He failed!" Raja shouted. "The dagger did no more than minor damage. Conar will be up by week's end and he'll come after us!"

  Kaileel Tohre sat in his favorite chair, sipping the intoxicating brandy made in the monastery. He ignored the outburst, leaning his head along the chair cushion, closing his eyes to better savor the pungent burst of flavor.

  "Did you hear me? We are doomed, Tohre. Doomed!"

  He took another sip of brandy, then opened his eyes to watch her pace. The woman disgusted him; the very sight of her flaxen beauty made him want to vomit. He had grown more than tired of her over the years she had been in hiding at the monastery. Her constant bickering had brought the other priests to his chambers on many occasions.

  "Do something about her, Holiness," one of the Cardinals had insisted. "Else she'll wake to find her throat being slit!"

  "She used one of the new boys," another complained. "Now, he follows her about with cow eyes!"

  Kaileel had frowned at that piece of information. The bitch had every one of her capricious whims satisfied by those older who were willing to appease her morbid, unnatural appetites. Now, she had started on young acolytes brought in for training. Such behavior was unacceptable within the Brotherhood. Having a woman within the confines of a male-oriented society was asking for trouble. Tohre had denied her bringing a female servant, so she had latched onto a young priest whose effeminate manners served her well enough. The two had become bosom buddies, a situation Tohre meant to exorcise as soon as the bitch had fulfilled her use.

  And the thought of her death made him sigh.

  "You find this funny?" Raja screamed, glaring down at him. "I find nothing about this amusing!"

  He grinned, a smile of such pure evil, he could see it unnerved her. She took a quick step backward, her eyes darting about as though she expected Raphian, Himself, to swoop down. Tohre set his brandy snifter on a table and laced his fingers together over his flat belly.

  "I find you amusing, Raja."

  ----

  She felt sweat forming in her armpits. When Kaileel looked at her like that, something reared its hideous head and turned her spine to mush. She had always prided herself in not being afraid of any man, living or dead, but Tohre was an entirely different matter. Something infinitely evil dwelt in the man's cold eyes, something outside the realm of darkness, some primeval beast that, if ever released, could shred the world to pieces. Each time those horrid eyes gazed at her, she could see her own destruction lingering there.

  "You need me," she reminded him, lowering her voice, forcing a calm to her tone. Her belly quivered when his smile taunted her and the thick white-blond brows lifted in challenge. "Without Regan, you could not have come anywhere near Conar."

  "True. Irony is such a subtle revenge, don't you think?" He nodded. "Since his own weapons are the only way to weaken him, what better way than to have his child do it? Weapons forged from his blood, sweat, tears, and semen, wielded by a child formed from his own blood, sweat, tears, and semen. Conar will know the significance of such revenge."

  "Regan believed he was to kill his father. He well might have."

  Tohre laughed. "If I had wanted Conar dead, my dear Raja, I could have seen to it. The boy was not strong enough to do any real harm, but the blows hurt Conar more for having come from his own flesh and blood."

  "He wasn't weakened enough! The brat was to strike for a vital organ, something to debilitate Conar long enough for our conjuring to work." Her lip lifted in scorn. "The little bastard did nothing more than make his father bleed!" Her thoughts went to the many hours with Tohre and his cronies in the conjuring chamber as Conar lay unconscious at Boreas Keep, the supreme evil of what the men were doing turning her stomach as she watched and participated.

  Kaileel stood and walked to the great window overlooking his enclosured garden, where several monks usually sat in prayer or communion with the Dark Ones. He looked over his shoulder at Raja. "Do you have any idea how long I have waited to bring Conar to his knees? How long I have waited to have him in such a position that he could never escape?"

  Raja shrugged her delicate shoulders, not caring--nor wanting--to know the answer.

  Kaileel smiled and looked back out the window. "A very long while. Do you know why I wish to see him brought down?"

  "No," she replied, wishing more than ever to escape his presence. The wild, insane look in his frosty blue eyes caused her acute terror. His obsession with Conar McGregor had been brought him to the very edge of insanity, and Raja wasn't sure he hadn't been driven over that fine line.

  "I was his teacher when he was five or six, you see." Kaileel sat on the window seat and pushed the shutter wide. "But I had been watching him from the moment of his birth. I was in the chamber with the King when Cayn delivered him." A faint smile tugged at Tohre's thin lips. "There had been no need to strike his ass to make him breath--Conar McGregor came into this world howling. I took one look at him and knew that boy would be the greatest warrior Serenia had ever known." He glanced at her. "He was born with twin crescents in the palms of his hands, you know."

  "The Sign of the Wind...I've seen them." Her eyes narrowed. "I have also seen t
he scars in his palms from Tolkan's revenge!"

  Kaileel waved a dismissive hand. "A precaution that, unfortunately, failed in the end." He returned his gaze to the outside scenery. "When he was cleaned up, he was handed to me, as High Priest, to christen. From the moment Cayn settled that squirming, kicking body in my hands, I knew Conar was mine."

  Raja snorted.

  "He was the most beautiful boy I had ever seen." A lover's glow appeared on the priest's face. "His hair was as white-blond as my own, his eyes the same pale shade of blue. When I looked at him, I saw an uncanny resemblance." He gave a sinister laugh. "The boy might well have been purged from my loins, had I been of that bent."

  "Lucky for womanhood you aren't..."

  "There was a difference in him, though, an innocence in those blue eyes. Trust, awe, respect. Trust of everyone, awe of the priesthood, respect for his elders. As he grew, I watched. Watched him become well-mannered, polite." Kaileel sneered. "His mother's doing. She taught him such useless things."

  "You taught him fear," Raja said, but she didn't think the man heard her.

  Kaileel leaned against the window jamb, his forehead resting on the stone. "I had a lot to undo where his teaching was concerned. His mother had instilled her brand of morals and manners in him. Such morals and manners a Wind Warrior had no need to possess. He needed to be strong, decisive, calculating--to be a rock among men. All the feminine things she had taught him were anathema to a warrior."

  "He still possesses those traits, Tohre, and the people of Seven Kingdoms, warriors included, consider him to be that great warrior of whom you dreamed." She flinched as his head snapped around.

  He fixed her with a malevolent glare. "Such things make him weak! He is not as ruthless as I would have him!" He turned toward the window again, staring at a handsome young priest who had lifted his head at Tohre's loud words. Kaileel waved and smiled.

  "The very things you want to take from him make him what he is, Kaileel. Make him the man you crave. You have not been able to change that, despite the horror you have put him through."