WINDDREAMER

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  He helped her mount the milk-white mare. Liza settled into the silver-worked saddle and drew lightly on the beast's reins to still her urge to gallop. Conar threw his leg over Demonwind and surveyed the group of men mounting their own steeds.

  "Ready?" he called.

  "Aye!" came the resounding cry.

  "Then we ride!"

  Conar gently kicked the stallion in the ribs. The horse broke into a fast trot. Tossing its head, the hell-spawned stallion canted away from Boreas Keep, his mare following.

  ----

  "The Wind be at your back, Lord Conar," Meggie Ruck sobbed as she watched the troop gallop past her tavern. She put a hand to her withered brow. "The Wind be always at your back."

  Chapter 26

  * * *

  Deep in the high Serenian peaks, Kaileel Tohre stared into his conjuring well. A muscle tightened in his cheek, and his cadaver-thin face paled. "It is beginning. They have left Boreas."

  Raja smiled. "Then it will be only a matter of time before Conar McGregor is here at our beck and call."

  "At my beck and call!" Kaileel pointed a trembling finger. His wild eyes pierced her with their fury. "Not yours, bitch! He is mine!"

  Raja stepped back from the madness in the man's hooded eyes. The intense way he watched her sent tremors down her spine. "As you desire!"

  "I have told you what I intend for him. If you have not the stomach for it, I suggest you leave now." Kaileel raised a fist to her face. "I will have my revenge!"

  Trembling before this insane man made her furious with herself. "And so you shall, Holiness. So you shall. All I ask is that you let me be there to see it. I have a vengeance of my own to exact."

  Kaileel spat on the floor. "Your so-called vengeance is of no matter to me. You want to see him brought down to your level. I will elevate him to mine! This is only the beginning of the destruction of his soul!"

  Raja placed a tight grin on her face. "I know yours is the will to be done, Holiness. I will not interfere. I ask only for the leftovers." Her simpering smile made her ill.

  "See that you don't interfere, woman!" Spinning on his heel, he tramped clumsily from the room, his red robes billowing. The door into the conjuring chamber slammed shut behind him, and his footsteps echoed back to her from the far corridor.

  Pure hatred spread through Raja. Her lip raised in a sneer. "If you think to merge his soul with yours, think again, Kaileel Tohre! I will never permit Conar to become a part of you!" She stared into the conjuring well, seeing the mist of riders as they made their from Boreas Keep. "I will see Conar at my mercy, his soul and body intact!"

  Her thoughts flew to the obscene ritual Kaileel intended to use on Conar--The Rite of Transmergence--and a quiver of revulsion shook her to her very core. A similar rite, the Ritual of Transmigration, was used by other sects, including the Daughters of the Multitude, but the rite Tohre meant to practice--a vile, disgusting, unholy ritual--had been outlawed centuries earlier. No sect outside the Domination would dare venture into the illegal conjuring, its sole purpose to steal the soul of one living being and place it in the body of another.

  Using the odious secretions of the hosts' body to infiltrate and corrupt the innocent victim's body, the rite would suffuse that corruption into the unwitting soul, as well, taking over what was good and decent. Once the Seven Secretions flowed inside the victim's body, they began to take over every aspect of the innocent's will and replace it with foul evil. The victim's mortal body would then be slain, and his immortal soul drained into the host's body, there to dwell for eternities to come.

  Raja had no doubt that was how Tohre had been able to live so long. With the taking on of each new soul, the host body could live as long as each successive victim had been destined to live before his life had been taken.

  "You will never have Conar! I will see him dead and buried before I allow you to desecrate him in that way! I will not settle for a hollowed-out shell to animate through my magic. I want the real man!" She dug her nails into her palms. "And I shall have him!"

  Raja loved Conar McGregor in a way she did not understand, for love was something no sorceress needed to complicate her life. But her jealousy, the hurt feelings of a woman scorned by the only man she had ever loved, prodded her toward her goal--Conar's enslavement.

  If she could not have Conar, no one could. Hell had no fury as such a one who has been rebuked.

  * * * *

  "The old woman had a daughter who died," Ching-Ching informed Occultus. "The servants say she hasn't been right in the head since."

  Occultus steepled his fingertips and stared across the desk at his companion. "And this disrespect she shows Conar? What of it?"

  Ching-Ching shrugged his thin shoulders. "It seems she has ever treated him so. He thinks nothing of it, I am told."

  "I do not care for the woman. She is far too disrespectful, for my liking. Conar may not pay heed to her insults, but they are heart-meant. Even Holm could see that." Occultus frowned. "Set a man to watch her. I will know every move she makes while Conar is gone."

  "It will be done."

  Occultus lowered his hands and placed his scarred palms on the desktop. Pushing himself from his chair, he stared across the room as though seeing into the future. "Make sure this woman makes no contact with outsiders. See that she sends no messages that are not intercepted and read before they are delivered."

  "You suspect treachery from her, Master?"

  "I expect treachery from everyone, my friend." He narrowed his eyes. "This MacCorkingdale woman has been around Conar all his life. We know there is a traitor in this keep who reports Conar's doings to the Monastery. The hag may be the one."

  * * * *

  In the shadows of the corridor outside the library in which Occultus and Ching-Ching spoke, two eyes glared.

  The traitor had been avidly listening to the men. With the scraping of Ching-Ching's chair, the spy fled down the hall.

  A message needed to be sent to the Monastery while time remained.

  PART II

  Chapter 1

  * * *

  The campfire burned brightly and cheerfully. Crackling wood hissed and sputtered, and popping embers floated like fire-cast butterflies in the cool night air. The caravan of twenty-two people settled down for the night, wrapped in blankets and huddling close to the fire. They were ten miles from Boreas, another four from Marengo, and had camped rather than venture past sundown along the winding coastal road that snaked its way up Mount Serenia.

  With Liza fast asleep in a wagon Bent had driven, all talk now centered around the coming confrontation at the Monastery.

  "Do you think we'll have any trouble getting into the place?" Tyne asked, then took a long sip of his mulled brandy to ward off the chill.

  Conar shook his head. "He'll want us inside. It'll be the getting out that will prove the challenge."

  "A challenge I hope you're up to," Duncan said, laughing.

  "I think so."

  Duncan stretched out and poked a stick in the flames. "Are you as confident, little sister?"

  The men turned their heads, frowning as Liza ventured from the wagon, her blanket wrapped around her like a shawl. She sat beside Conar and huddled into his welcoming arms. "Of course," she told Duncan, smiling.

  Shalu watched the firelight glowing in Duncan's eyes. Something in those dark depths disturbed the Necroman. He had felt unease ever since the big man joined them at Ivor. The odd looks he often sent Conar also disturbed Shalu.

  "Once inside," Conar said, "I'll find his conjuring chamber. It'll be there where he could do us the most harm. If I can neutralize it, at least one-third of his power will be destroyed. I'll leave his followers up to you men. Liza and I will find Tohre and Raja and finish them."

  "You make it sound too easy," Duncan warned. "What will Tohre be doing while we engage his men? Twiddling his thumbs?"

  Roget had been listening to the exchange of ideas. "I think we all know Kaileel's aware Conar is on his way. We
also know he'd like nothing better than to destroy the lot of us. I think it's safe to say there'll be more than his followers to greet us. He'll stop at nothing to crush the Force if he gets the opportunity. My money, however, is on Conar. As yours should be, Duncan." He gave the man an inscrutable stare.

  Duncan looked at du Mer. "I think Conar can take him, as well. What I'm trying to convey is that I know Tohre will not stand idly by while we massacre his followers. If Conar has some idea of what to expect from Tohre, it would be to our advantage that he tells us."

  "Are you sure?" Shalu challenged, giving a cool glance to Duncan.

  "Do you question my motives?" Duncan snarled, throwing the stick he had been playing with into the flames.

  "You seem too eager to put doubts in our minds," Roget answered. "If you don't feel secure with us, perhaps it would be best if you returned to Boreas."

  Duncan face Conar. "Do you doubt me, as well, little brother?"

  ----

  Conar stared at him for a long moment, assessing the man, probing the mysterious aura that had always hovered over Duncan Cree. Finally, he shrugged, unable to penetrate to the level of Duncan's soul he had wanted to see. "All I ask is that you do what you feel is right. I've no doubt you will do whatever you set out to do."

  Conar was aware he really hadn't answered the question. If anything, his response served to make those already doubtful of Duncan to look at him more carefully.

  "It would be best if each of you tried to uphold the others," Liza said. "Kaileel's most dangerous weapon is his ability to divide and conquer. If there is doubt in your mind about the man standing next to you in a fight, your entire mind won't be on the business at hand. I know of no surer way to get yourself hurt."

  "Or killed," Roget amended.

  "We have worked together before, Milady," Storm said. "Each of us knows what to expect from the others."

  Duncan's mouth turned hard. "If there are those of you who don't trust me at your backs, maybe I should stay with Legion."

  "That might be best," Conar said.

  Though flinching, Duncan's chin lifted. "So you don't trust me?"

  "I didn't say that."

  "You didn't have to, Conar!" Duncan got up. "I'll leave for Boreas tonight. I'll not stay where I'm not wanted."

  "You misunderstood, Milord," Liza said. "No one's questioned your honor. These men know little or nothing about you. It isn't that they distrust you. They just don't know what to expect from you."

  Duncan smiled. "I, Madame, am a McGregor warrior. These men should have no reason to question my motives." He stared at Conar. "But since even my own flesh and blood does, it will be best if I make myself useful to the Force somewhere where I can be watched!"

  Conar looked at Duncan, but didn't speak as his brother stalked off. He felt a vague unease go down his spine. When his gaze strayed to Shalu, he saw an almost imperceptible nod of agreement. Sighing, he eased his arms from around Liza, stood and stretched.

  He smiled down at his woman. "Will you walk with me?"

  She reached up a hand for him to help her to her feet. Dusting the sand and leaves from her riding breeches, she stumbled a bit as she lost her balance, leaning into Conar's hastily protective arms.

  "Will you look at the two of them?" Thom grumbled. "Is it really necessary to pretend to fall just to have him catch you, Milady?"

  She smiled sweetly at the warrior and winked. "It makes him feel manly, Thommy." She seductively batted her eyes at her lover's snort of derision.

  * * * *

  A short time later, Conar and Liza sat beside a low outcropping of rocks. Small forest sounds broke through the silence, blending in with the soft nickers of their horses to their left.

  "A storm is brewing," Liza said, snuggling into his arms.

  Although no stars graced the heavens, bright moonlight filtered down from the smoky sky. The hour was late, and the air was much too calm. Conar looked upward, squinting at the haze. "Aye, I believe so. We knew it wouldn't be easy."

  "Has it ever been?" she asked, nuzzling her lips against the opening of his shirt.

  He smiled and kissed her temple. "He knows we're coming, so I can imagine he'll pull out all the stops."

  "Do you think we'll have all that much trouble from him?"

  "What do you think, Milady?"

  Liza let out a ragged breath. "I think he'll do everything in his power to destroy you. Just as I know I'll do everything in my power to see he doesn't."

  He cupped her chin with his hand and lifted her face to his. "There's nothing we can not do if we're as one, you know."

  "I would give my life for you, Conar McGregor."

  His brow crinkled with pain. "I would have no life without you."

  With tender care, his lips covered hers. She clung to him like a drowning person, her hands clutching his shoulders with an urgency that told him how desperately she needed him. His hands slid down her back and around her waist until his fingers found the lacings of her shirt. Her breath quickened as his lips drew on hers. Gently, he pushed the half-opened shirt over her shoulders until he revealed the creamy white rise of her breasts. Easing her down to the soft, fern-covered rock, he trailed sweet kisses along her chin and throat, then over the coral peak of one breast. He heard her gasp of pleasure, a sound he never tired of hearing.

  "Make love to me, Conar. Please."

  "The babe, Liza, isn't it getting--"

  "It will not hurt the babe, my love. She is well-seated within me." She roughly placed his hand on her breast. "I need you, beloved."

  "Then it would be my greatest pleasure to satisfy that need."

  ----

  Liza drew his lips to hers. As his tongue plunged sweetly into her mouth, she felt the earth move beneath her. Her body throbbed with longing. She was barely conscious of his hands as they fumbled with her clothing and his. She was beyond any feeling except the fire that burned so deeply in her womanhood. Only the sweet spring of his seed could quench the flames threatening to sear her.

  While the moon moved overhead, the lovers moved below on the soft, fleecy down of the earth. With fevered haste, they moved with the world in which they dwelt and soared to the stars and far beyond. Their love blended with the heavens and spiraled down once more to earth. And in the farthest reaches of the stars, the gods and Their ladies smiled a tender, sad smile, and sighed with the pleasant understanding of how great was this love between Conar McGregor and his lady. No mortal love had ever existed that could equal it, and no mortal love ever would.

  "The Great Windwarrior loves his lady-wife well," one golden-haired goddess commented to her mate.

  "Aye," her companion agreed. "The last time is always as sweet as the first."

  Chapter 2

  * * *

  "I forgot to give you this," Rylan said.

  Conar cinched his saddle, then looked at the bottle in Rylan's hand. "What is it?"

  "That cook at Boreas forgot to pack this in your saddlebags, so she told me to give it to you. It's ale, I believe."

  "Keep it. I no longer have a need for spirits."

  Rylan shrugged. "Suit yourself. I won't look a gift horse in the mouth." He uncorked the bottle, took a healthy swig, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He grinned and whistled. "Strong stuff!"

  "It's a bit early in the day to be swigging down ale, anyway," Conar joked.

  Rylan's face turned belligerent. "Don't be telling me my business! You aren't my keeper!" He lifted the bottle to his lips once more and stomped away.

  Conar's brows drew together into a frown.

  "He's nervous, Conar," Roget quipped, looking after Hesar. "He doesn't usually drink before sundown."

  "See that he doesn't start doing it now. We need more than clear heads this day. We need healthy bodies, as well."

  "I'll talk to him." Roget looked over his shoulder, searching for anyone nearby, then lowered his voice. "Brelan's already gone back to Boreas. He said he'd join us as soon as he could."


  "I hope his trip will prove unnecessary, but I'd rather be safe than sorry. Something didn't ring true with Duncan."

  Roget put a comforting hand on Conar's shoulder. "I think he's a bit envious of you."

  Conar snorted. "There's nothing to envy! If I could, I'd stay close to Boreas myself." He glanced at the tall mountains. "I'd rather be going anywhere today than the Monastery."

  "So would we all, my friend."

  * * * *

  Liza stuffed her saddlebag, then rolled her blanket and strapped it to Seafarer's rump behind the saddle. Her worried mind centered on her children. She barely heard the conversations around her, or the creak of saddle leather as men readied to leave. She paid little heed to the nervous joking or ribald comments being hushed as men pointed her way. Her thoughts, instead, dwelled on a conversation she'd had at Boreas only the day before...

  ----

  When she had arrived back at the keep from Ivor, she'd gone immediately to see her children. It had been a long time since last she had been with them, and even though she trusted Gezelle to care for them, she felt a heavy pressure in her chest as she prepared to bid them each another farewell.

  Cory's silent tears affected her the most. "But why do you have to go?" he asked, and she went to her bedroom, quiet and weeping.

  On the morning of the day she was to leave, she sat in her room, staring at the miniature portraits of her children on the table by her bed.

  "I will guard them with my life," Gezelle assured Liza as she sat beside her.

  Liza could do nothing but nod. Her sadness overwhelmed her. When Gezelle's arms went around her, she leaned her head against the other woman's shoulder. She covered her quivering mouth with a trembling hand, desperately trying to stifle her sobs.

  "What's wrong, Milady?"

  An undercurrent of fear drifted around Liza's heart, but she couldn't explain why. Something apart from the coming fight with Tohre disturbed her peace of mind, but she had no idea what it was.