WINDREAPER

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  "Will you behave now?" someone asked.

  "Go to hell!"

  Their answer came in unison: "We've been there!"

  Chapter 22

  * * *

  He stood rigid at the rail, glaring at the waters slipping swiftly past the ship's hull. Now and again he would glower at whomever happened to pass by. Their leering smiles only infuriated him more. He would squint at them and turn his back, cursing them all.

  Conar didn't want to go back to Serenia. Not now. Not yet. He wasn't ready for what was in Serenia. Not now. Maybe not ever.

  He watched as a dolphin jumped out in the water. They weren't far from land, he thought with a grimace of distaste. Another hour should see them home.

  Home.

  He hated the word. He didn't have a home any more. He wasn't really sure he ever had.

  "We're doing this for your own good, Conar," Holm had told him when they had manhandled him on board the Ravenwind.

  If the men knew what was good for him, Conar thought with a sinking heart, they wouldn't be taking him back to Boreas Keep. Nevertheless, he was glad someone cared enough about him to take care of him. He couldn't have cared less about himself. He had wanted to know if he could soar with the eagles and had learned he could not only soar with them, he could fly faster and higher.

  He had nothing left to prove.

  And everything in the world to lose by going back to Boreas Keep.

  * * *

  A runner informed Liza that the black ship was sighted nearing the harbor. She had been a mass of nerves all day, waiting for news of its arrival. It had been almost seven years since she had last seen her brothers, Grice and Chand. They had been sending letters for the past three, but letters could not replace actually holding them and knowing they were safe. But as overjoyed as she was about seeing them, she was just that terrified of the Darkwind's arrival.

  It had been six months since he had come into her bedroom that ill-fated night. She knew in her heart he had not forgotten her promise to him. It was only a matter of time before he would wish to collect the debt.

  Brelan had tried to explain why the man had left Boreas. "He felt guilty about the babe, Elizabeth. He blamed himself."

  She had looked at her friend, the father of her daughter, with astonishment. "Why should he care what happened to my babe?"

  Brelan looked away from her. "He's lost children of his own. He knows what it feels like, Sweeting."

  "He has a wife?" she whispered, not having thought of the possibility. That would make her promise to him even harder to keep.

  "He used to," Brelan said cryptically.

  "What happened to her?"

  "He thinks she left him for another man."

  Liza thought she understood the Darkwind's anger then, his fury toward her. If he had been one of Conar's Elite, which she believed, he must look upon her marriage to Legion as a betrayal of sorts. She said as much to Brelan.

  "He's been hurt, Elizabeth." Saur's face filled with pain. "And he thinks hurting others will help. We've all tried to show him that's not true, but he won't listen."

  A shout from the sea wall brought Liza's attention back to the present. She saw the black sails entering the harbor. "Legion! They're here!"

  Sliding into the harbor, the black ship was a sight to behold. People stopped work and watched as it anchored. Its brass rails caught the sunlight and flashed reflections across the rippling water.

  The huge anchor dropped into the water with a resounding crash. The big gangplank eased down on well-oiled hinges and connected with the long dock. Sailors scurried about her decks and secured the lines, called to one another with instructions.

  "I don't see them," Liza said uneasily, peering over Brelan's tall shoulder.

  "There they are!" Gezelle cried, no doubt searching for Chand Wynth.

  Grice and Chand came off the gangplank at a run, their arms outstretched. Liza ran to them. They lifted her between them, hugging her close. Words were spoken that they would not likely remember, but the love they would. The love and the devotion of brothers to their sister. Of family.

  Grice chuckled. "Where are my nephews and niece? I've come three hundred miles to spoil them!"

  Tyne and Paegan joined the others on the quay, each venturing a shy kiss for Liza, who greeted them.

  "You're Paegan?" She grinned, looking into his handsome face. "The last time I saw you was at Norus."

  "That was the only time you saw me, Milady," he said, blushing. "I wasn't exactly at my best."

  Liza smiled, thinking of Paegan when he was a young man. He had managed to escape his brother's authority—or so Paegan had thought—by posing as a guard at Norus Keep. It was on the evening she and Conar had traveled to that storm-ridden fortress that she made the acquaintance of the dashing young warrior.

  "Conar was teasing you unmercifully, as I remember," she said with fond memory.

  "He still—"

  Tyne stepped forward and interrupted. "Yes, he would be if he was here, Milady. It's been a long time, Liza. How've you been?"

  "Very well, Tyne, thank you. Welcome to Boreas."

  * * *

  Tyne, heading up the ramp with the Wynth brothers and Paegan, shook hands with Brelan, Legion, Teal, and a panting Roget du Mer, who said he had come at a run when he heard news of the ship's arrival. The men hugged Sentian, Storm, and Thom, and playfully punched a quiet Chase Montyne.

  "So where is he?" asked an annoyed bass voice.

  Tyne looked into the black, scowling face of Shalu Taborn, the Necromanian King. "It's nice to see you, too, old friend."

  Shalu made a contemptuous motion with his hand. "I did not come all this way to see you, Brell!" His words were harsh, but the gleam in his brown eyes gave off unmistakable affection.

  "Well, now, I never thought you did," Tyne replied smugly and held out his arm.

  Shalu pursed his lips into a fierce grimace, but he circled Tyne's wrist with his large hand. "Always the politician, eh, Brell?"

  "We do what we can, Taborn." Tyne jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "We had some trouble with him."

  "Didn't want to come?" Jah-Ma-El asked as he joined them, taking Tyne's hand in his.

  "You smell better," Tyne quipped, sniffing. "Are you ill?"

  Jah-Ma-El's chin lifted. "What kind of trouble did he give you?"

  "Fought us tooth and nail. He's been drinking too much. It makes him hard to control."

  Jah-Ma-El looked at Shalu. "I told you, didn't I?"

  Shalu glared. "You tell me a lot of things!"

  Rylan joined them. "I tried all I could when he was with me. Chase tried. I would imagine Grice did, too. Bre told me he couldn't get anywhere with him. What else is there to do?"

  "I can take his ass down a peg or two!" Shalu snapped. "He'll not get by doing that with me! Am I right, Ching-Ching?"

  "For once in your life," the Chrystallusian said from his place beside the seawall.

  Holm snorted as he joined the men. "He's giving them just as much trouble about getting off the ship as he did getting on!"

  "Why didn't he want to come home?" Jah-Ma-El asked.

  "Let him stay on the ship until everyone has left the quay." Shalu's voice was sullen with pique. "He isn't going anywhere. Then, if he doesn't come off of his own accord, I'll get him."

  * * *

  The object of everyone's discussion took that precise moment to tread heavily down the gangplank, his back ramrod straight, with Bent close on his heels. The masked Darkwind ignored the calls of welcome and totally ignored the black-haired queen and her husband, who both moved well out of his way as he passed.

  "Morning, Highnesses!" Bent called as he hurried past Legion and Liza, standing with Brelan, Grice, and Chand.

  "In a foul mood, I take it?" Legion remarked.

  "What do you think of the ship?" Brelan asked, trying to change the subject.

  "She's magnificent," Legion replied. "What do you call her?"

  "The Ravenwind
."

  Roget headed their way, his face livid with anger. He let out an exasperated breath as he reached Brelan. "He got away from Bent."

  "What?" Brelan felt like screaming.

  "Once they got up to the seawall, Bent heard someone call his name. He turned to greet them. When he looked back, our Overlord was nowhere in sight."

  Brelan sighed. "Have everybody start looking. Make sure the liquor is locked up and guarded." He ground his teeth. "With two guards."

  Chapter 23

  * * *

  Liza looked around, but saw no one. Her forehead wrinkled; her brows drew together in question. Though she knew she was alone in the solar, she also knew she was being watched. The hair along her arms and neck stirred, while a tingle in her fingertips told her whomever was watching her was unlikely to be seen. Although, she detected no ill will—her acutely-tuned senses would have warned her otherwise. Nevertheless, whomever was scrutinzing her was getting on her nerves.

  "Who's there?" she asked, no longer looking around, but frowning down at the book in her hands.

  A slight sound, just a tiny movement in the air surrounding her, made her glance up. A rather large man slipped quietly from the solar and disappeared into the keep.

  She sat for a moment, the tales of the Darkwind's bodyguards flitting through her mind, and wondered why they had not found him yet. Marking her place in the book, she laid it in her lap.

  For five days he had been missing. The men were searching the countryside, relatively sure he hadn't left the immediate vicinity. As far as she knew, every nook and cranny in the keep, every nearby hut and inn and hostel had been gone through, but his men had come up empty-handed.

  A nagging worry began to form in Liza's mind. There was no trace of the Darkwind. His steed, that hell-spawned black beast, now under heavy guard lest he try to take it, was in the keep's stable. His belongings, transferred from the ship to one of the sleeping chambers, also had a close watch placed over them in case he tried to claim the daggers and sword, now legends throughout the Seven Kingdoms. No one had seen him, and no one had witnessed him leave the seawall that day, although there had been nearly a hundred people milling about the docks.

  The nagging worry prodded Liza with a cold dread.

  She stood, put the book in her chair, and walked to the row of wide, tall windows. She studied the garden, but it was not the scenery Liza A'Lex saw, but rather the pattern forming in her agile, fertile mind, and the implications unsettled her.

  Her first thought was of the way the Darkwind could get in and out of the keep unnoticed. She knew of the secret passages, but their locations were not common knowledge. Though guards continually monitored those entrances, the Darkwind could come and go at will.

  Her second thought was of the way he could simply disappear with people around. She'd once heard Brelan's angry remarks to Roget du Mer, and knew he had pulled that stunt more times than Brelan thought prudent or safe.

  And then there was his ability to send shivers down her spine with those alien eyes. Something in them was not in an ordinary man's eyes, no matter the color. They were hard, cold, deadly, with a spark that Liza found chilling. She suspected there was also great cruelty in those midnight orbs, and that they had seen more pain and suffering than a man should ever know.

  Last, but not least, was the feeling she got every time she was near him. She would tremble for no apparent reason, afraid, wary of him and his motives. Alarmed at the hate she heard in his strangely-inflected, rasping voice.

  She turned from the window and stared sightlessly at the hothouse plants surrounding her.

  Only one breed of man could do what the Darkwind did and not get caught. Only one type of man could blend into his surroundings, like the plants in this room blended one against the other. Only one manner of man could simply disappear without a trace.

  And Liza knew how he must have done it.

  A shiver ran down her spine and she wrapped her arms around her. Why hadn't she thought of it before? Why hadn't her senses warned her?

  It had been a long time since she had been able to perform more than common magic. The greater powers she had held during Conar's lifetime had dwindled, year after year, tear after tear, until she simply refused to try using her gods-given talents. The last time she had used them had been with Tohre, and she had been so sickened by where he had taken her, by his obvious undying lust for her dead husband, she had not ventured again into the realm of the preternatural.

  Oh, she had sent messages to Corbin in the Abbey. That much was simple enough. But she had not communed with the Great Lady, nor her mother. Nor had she ventured to the Shadowlands since she had gone there to ask for Conar's life many, many years, and many, many tears, before.

  But even though she had not utilized her gift, she knew as surely as she knew the gently falling rain outside would stop, that the Darkwind was a magic-sayer.

  The gods help us, she thought. Another shiver ran down her spine. No, her thoughts amended—the gods help me!

  * * *

  Ordinarily, Liza would not have listened in on a conversation that did not concern her, had prided herself in her ability not to eavesdrop. But for some unfathomable reason, she chose to remain in the window seat when Sentian and Roget met in the hallway of the upper sleeping chambers. There was something in Sentian's normally calm face that made Liza press herself against the damask drapes, drawing up her knees so she would not be seen.

  "We've found him," Sentian whispered, relief in his tone.

  "Is he all right?" Roget answered, worry in his voice.

  "Hung over, but otherwise fine. It was a long, long night."

  "Where'd you find him?"

  "In a tavern in town. Apparently we didn't send the right men to ask the right questions, or else we just overlooked the obvious."

  "What do you mean, "the right men"?"

  Sentian lowered his voice, but it carried to Liza just the same. "The landlord was hiding him in an attic."

  "Hiding him?" An ominous tone crept into Roget's voice.

  Although Roget's back was to her, blocking Sentian's view of her, Liza peeked around the drapes and clearly saw her Sentinel's face. He blushed. "The man and his wife told me they recognized him as soon as he came in. They said he was as drunk as a sailor. Didn't have on his mask, either."

  Roget groaned.

  "The landlord's name is Harry Ruck. He and his wife used to own a little wayside inn near Norus. He said his wife nearly died from fright when she looked up from her bread-making and saw our Overlord in her kitchen."

  "What the hell was he doing in her kitchen?" Roget snapped.

  "How the hell should I know, Hawk? At any rate, Ruck said he was peeling spuds for his wife and dropped the lot of them on the floor. He thought he was seeing a ghost."

  Liza's forehead crinkled. A ghost? What did that mean? Did Meggie know the Darkwind's indentity?

  "They know who he is," Sentian sighed.

  "They recognized him?" Horror filled Roget's voice.

  "He smiled and called the lady by name."

  Roget groaned. "Shit!"

  Meggie, Liza said to herself, you'll be getting a visit from me very soon, old friend!

  "Anyway," Sentian said, "they managed to take him upstairs and get him to bed."

  "They could have turned him over to one of Tohre's men!"

  "They could have, but didn't."

  "That's not the point!" Roget shouted.

  Sentian shushed him.

  Roget's angry voice lowered. "Did anyone else there recognize him?"

  "Ruck said he'd been looking for Thom Loure to come to the tavern. I told him Loure was searching around Corinth, so that's why his messages never reached Thommy. He knew he could trust Thom, and said the only other two he trusted were Legion and Teal, but he didn't think Darkwind wanted him to send word to them."

  "He got that right!" Roget shot back.

  Why not? Liza wondered. Would Legion and Teal, knowing the man's identit
y, put him in danger? Surely not. Or would their knowing cause the Darkwind problems?

  "So how did you come to find out where he was?" Roget snapped.

  "They knew me on sight. I'd gone in to get a bite to eat and the landlord came to my table and asked if I was looking for 'anything in particular.'" A rueful smile touched Sentian's full lips. "Fool that I am, I said I'd heard they had good corned beef and cabbage and thought I'd like to try it." He laughed. "I wondered at the odd look he gave me, but I was so damned hungry it didn't register."

  "Will you just get on with it?" Roget asked impatiently.

  "Ruck sent this slutty-looking wench to get my food, then sat at my table. I thought he was just being friendly, until he fixed me with a look that got my attention. He asked if there might not be something else I was looking for. I thought he meant a woman—"

  "Heil!"

  "All right!" Sentian snapped. "He gripped my arm and lowered his voice. He said 'I know you have been looking for lost treasure, something lost a long time ago. Something we all cherished.' I knew then they had our lost leader. I also knew Ruck and his wife were loyal."

  "Then they took you up to him?"

  "He was sitting at a table swilling down ale like there was no tomorrow. He told me to get the hell out of there."

  "He's been there all these days?"

  Liza saw Sentian nod, but her thoughts were on the innkeeper's words. What did he mean by 'lost treasure'? Why should that make her spine tingle and her palms itch?

  "I asked Ruck how long he'd had been drunk, and he said ever since he'd stumbled into their kitchen."

  "And they didn't think to cut him off, I suppose?" Indignation filled Roget's voice.

  "I don't think they had the heart to deny him."

  "What happened when he told you to leave?"

  "You know him. He got loud, pissed, and ugly. I managed to take away the bottle, and I popped him one. Drunk as he was, he went out like a light. The landlady said that was the first time he'd been asleep in three days. I went downstairs to see if any of our men were there to help me bring him back, but I didn't see anyone I knew we could trust. I wasn't worried about leaving him, because I knew the Rucks would guard him with their lives."