WINDWEEPER

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  Her lips twisted with an ugly sneer. "Because women are not to your liking!"

  His face turned red. He looked away, ducking his head. "I took you once before, and got you with child."

  Anger sustained her as she shoved him away. "You raped me!"

  "I wanted to lie with you more than anything I'd ever wanted."

  "If you wanted me so badly, why not do now what you did then?"

  "Because I didn't want to hurt the babe."

  A vicious snarl twisted Liza's pretty mouth. "Why would you care about Conar's child?" A sudden thought turned her face to stone. "If you think to use it as a bargaining tool with Tohre…" Hate and warning filled her voice.

  "Not with Tohre."

  "Then with whom?"

  "You."

  That one word caused a multitude of fears to rush through her. She stared at him with loathing. "Why?"

  "Because I am in love with you."

  "You don't know the meaning of the word!"

  "I do love you, Liza."

  "Why should I believe you? You helped kill my husband!"

  "No, I didn't."

  "Conar is dead!" she shouted. "Did you try to stop them from killing him?" She impaled him with her hatred. "Did you even care that he died?" Tears cascaded down her pale cheeks. "Are you happy about it now?"

  "If you believe nothing else I ever say to you, know that I never wanted Conar to die."

  Her face lit with a terrible glow. "Are you going to tell Tohre about this?" He shook his head. "Why not?"

  "If he knew, I couldn't protect the child."

  "Why would you want to protect Conar's babe?"

  "I will raise him as my own. Isn't that what you intended?" There was a slight quiver in his tone that suggested he felt pain over the notion.

  "Why would you want to raise Conar's child?" Her voice was ripe with suspicion.

  "Revenge."

  "On a dead man?" Her teeth drew back in a feral snarl. "Haven't you done enough to him?"

  An odd look passed over Galen's face, a look she didn't understand. "Somehow he will know I have won, Liza. I have his crown. I have his woman. I will have his child to bring up for all the world to know as my own. What better revenge?"

  "Do you think me stupid?" she hissed. "You will badger and hurt this babe as you did its father! I will not allow it! I will fight you to the death!"

  "Why does everyone think me such a bastard?"

  "Because you are!"

  He opened his mouth, but then clamped shut his lips to calm his temper. "The babe is flesh of my flesh whether I planted it in you or not. It will be my niece or nephew. I wouldn't hurt it for that reason alone."

  "My daughter was killed—"

  "Not by any of us!" he snapped. "Not by Tohre or Tolkan or me!"

  "You admit to being a part of that filth?"

  "Who do you think they took in Conar's place when you sent those men to free him, Liza?" he shouted. "Whose body do you think they tortured instead?" He shook her. "It was me, Liza! I suffered all the pain Conar did! I bled just like he did!" When she dropped her gaze, he let go of one of her arms to cup her chin and force up her head. "I stood outside that door listening to him scream and I know how hard he screamed! And, the gods help me, I now know why!"

  She tried to jerk out of his grip. "Take your hands off me!"

  "I tried to love him," he mumbled, more to himself than to her. "I really tried. But he wouldn't let me. He always hated me and he always will."

  "You're insane!"

  "I begged him to take me with him when they were leaving the monastery, but he wouldn't. He left me, Liza, knowing what they'd do to me!"

  "He didn't leave you! Belvoir and Hern left you. Conar tried to make them stop, begged them not to leave you there, but they ignored him!" She fought against him, trying to get free. "They wanted you to suffer as you had helped him to suffer!"

  Jaw dropping, Galen's face turned white as snow. He released her. "He didn't want me left there?"

  "He might not have respected you, Galen, but Conar would have never wished such torment even on you! You were his brother, and in some twisted way, he cared for you!" She rubbed her wrist where his fingers had bruised her. "He told me he was going after you, but something happened that night. It was soon after our talk that he began to act so strangely, so irrational."

  Galen knew why—the tenerse. "I didn't know," he mumbled, his entire being aching with a nameless pain.

  Liza's mouth trembled. She was afraid for her unborn child. She had to make a devil's bargain with this man if it was the last thing she ever did. She was about to try when his voice, low and desperate stopped her.

  "I would not harm one hair on this babe's head for fear of losing you as I lost its…" His gaze faltered along with his voice.

  "What do you want from me?"

  "Your love."

  "That will always belong to Conar. No man will ever have what is his alone!"

  "I know." For a moment, he looked away, but when his gaze returned, there was a warning in it. "You ask what I want? All right, I'll make a deal. Share my life, my bed. Pretend for all the world to see that you have some feeling for me. Show me respect; never betray me; never deceive me. In exchange, I will honor you and respect you and the babe. I will make sure no one and nothing comes close enough to do you harm." He lowered his voice. "My word means little to you, I know, but on my life I give you my word. I will never betray you to Tohre or anyone else."

  "And if I meet your conditions?"

  "No one need ever know the babe is his until you are ready for the world to know."

  "And if I have conditions of my own?"

  His face clouded; a tiny flicker of annoyance hovered there. He had not expected her to easily give in, but neither had he expected the vitriolic disgust on her lovely face as though she looked at vermin. He regarded her for quite some time. "Which are?"

  "First, you will not bar my friends from this keep." Legion, Teal, Sentian, and Marsh had been kept away from the keep by official mandate; not that any of them would have come on their own. They made their feelings known on the day she returned to accept Galen's marriage proposal. Conar's friends and brother now thought of her as a traitor and left for Ivor Keep before the actual vows were spoken. Legion sent a letter telling her of his shock and displeasure. Sentian sent word via Hern that he would like to be relieved of his obligations as her Sentinel, something she denied him; but she had not seen nor heard from the young man since.

  "They will be allowed here if they want to come," Galen answered. "I'm not sure you will ever see them here, though." He didn't like the idea of Conar's cronies near enough to do him harm, especially Sentian Heil. But he knew the men could be controlled if need be. After all, Brelan Saur was about somewhere in the keep. He had been the only one among them to have anything to do with Liza since the wedding. Galen had to give the man his due. He had neither said, nor done, anything in disrespect to Galen. "Anything else?"

  "If I am to share your life and your"—she nearly choked on the word—"bed, then I will have some pleasures in this life." When he reluctantly nodded, she went on. "I will have you know, I will not share the same room or table with Kaileel Tohre!"

  "I understand. What else?"

  "I will visit my parents when I wish, without you. They have no care for you." Her chin rose.

  "Agreed." He didn't care for them either. "Provided Brelan accompanies you."

  She stared at him. Surely Galen didn't know how his half-brother felt about her, she thought, else he would not trust him. "There is one last thing."

  Galen sighed. "And that is?"

  She leaned toward him, putting her face close to his. Her eyes bore into his like the flames of the deepest pit in hell. "I will have your word, on the crown of Serenia, which means more to you than anything else, that you will never revile Conar to his babe." Determination twisted her face. "Nor let anyone else ever do so."

  Galen smiled sadly. "The man is gone. He's no threa
t to me, now." He stood and held out his hand. "I have no reason to even speak of him again."

  "I will have your word, Galen McGregor!" she said, ignoring his gesture.

  He hunkered beside her and put a hand on her shoulder, felt her tense like a coiled spring. He looked into her eyes. "I will never open my mouth to malign him to his child. Nor will I allow anyone else to do so. If this babe should ask about my brother, I will say nothing that is not true."

  "And that truth being what?"

  "That he was a good man; a good husband to you; and a good father to his children. He was a brave, respected man, and he had the love of his people."

  "And when you speak of his death?"

  "I will say my brother died as bravely as he lived."

  Liza's mouth turned hard. "Never hurt anyone I care about ever again. Do you understand?"

  Her determined look as he rose told him everything he would ever need to know about this woman. She was fiercely loyal to those she cared about. He held out his hand to help her up and was surprised when she clasped it. "I understand, Milady."

  Her next words stunned him.

  "I know as surely as we are standing here that you helped Tohre destroy your brother. No one else but you could have done so. No one else. For that, I will hate you until the day I die and beyond. But to keep my babe, Conar's babe, safe, I would whore with the devil himself!" She walked past him and lay on the bed, pulling the coverlet over her shoulders, turning her back on him.

  Galen wanted to adjust the covers over her, to climb into bed with her, to tell her he loved her, but he didn't. He knew she wouldn't care.

  Instead, he walked to the window and drew back the curtain. He stood still, not seeing anything outside in the golden glow of moonlight, not caring even if the next day came. His thoughts were beyond the rising sun that would soon break the horizon. His thoughts were on Conar's last moments in the Interrogation Facility.

  It had been the next to the last time Galen had spoken to his brother. Conar was sitting in one of the inquisition cells. A guard had belted a wide leather strap around Conar's chest, manacled his wrists and ankles to the chair, firmly securing him.

  Galen had accompanied Kaileel into the chamber, but at first Conar didn't see his twin. His attention was on Tohre as the High Priest went to stand before him.

  "I have something for you," Tohre said. He held up a vial of tenerse. "You know what it is?"

  Conar nodded, finally seeing Galen. A faint smile flitted over his tired face. "You've won, Galen," he said quietly. "Are you happy?"

  Tohre knelt in front of Conar. "The pain will be much less if you take this. All you need do is beg me for it."

  Galen stepped closer, the better to hear his brother's words. Neither he nor Tohre were surprised when Conar shook his head.

  "My days of begging are over, Kaileel," Conar whispered.

  Now, thinking back on it, Galen realized Conar had accepted his fate, surrendered to it with what appeared to be calm acceptance.

  "As you wish," Kaileel had replied, inclining his head. "But there is one last matter that must be settled before you are taken outside."

  Conar sighed wearily. "What?"

  Tohre turned to Galen, who came to stand directly before Conar.

  "Do you remember your Joining day, brother?" Galen asked.

  A shadow of sorrow flitted across Conar's pale face. "You know I do."

  "And do you remember what I promised you?"

  When Conar shook his head, Galen knew his brother had stopped caring about anything.

  Galen squatted beside Conar. "You don't remember?"

  "I'm sure you'll remind me."

  "I promised the day would come when you would go to your knees before me. Do you remember?"

  A faint glimmer of defiance entered those tired blue eyes, but disappeared as quickly as it came.

  "Do you remember?" Galen pressed.

  "Aye," Conar finally acknowledged. "I remember something of it."

  Galen smiled. "That day has come."

  Once more the light flickered in those azure orbs. "What is it you want, Galen?"

  "Do you remember me saying you would beg for mercy, beg me to let you die, and I would not give you even that last comfort?"

  "I'll do neither. If you ever thought I would, you are a bigger fool than I imagined."

  "I have," Galen said, pulling a sheet of folded paper from his tunic, "a signed confession, sworn to before six of the Tribunal judges, in the presence of Brother Tohre and myself." He unfolded the sheet and turned it so Conar could see the writing.

  Conar looked at the paper, recognized the distinctive handwriting of one of the condemned Elite who would be hanged.

  "Did you read it?"

  Conar didn't answer, jus stared intently at Galen.

  "Shall Galen read it for you?" Tohre asked.

  "He knows what it says, don't you, brother?" Galen leaned forward. "I am offering her safety. They will charge her with treason if you don't do what I want."

  Conar looked at Galen for a long time. He searched his brother's face for even one sign of compassion and found none. Then the proud head bowed, the strong shoulders slumped. He was beaten and knew it. In the end, he humbled himself. Though he could not go to his knees due to his retraints, he begged—not for mercy, not for his life—but for Liza's protection.

  It was at that moment Galen understood, as he never had before, the king of a man his brother was. Conar didn't care what they did to him, where they sent him, whether he lived or died. All he cared about was his beloved wife's safety.

  "She's yours, Galen," he whispered. "I give her to you."

  Galen would never understand why he took his brother's face into his hands and forged his lips to Conar's. "I will care for her just as you have," Galen promised.

  "I know you will…"

  Now, looking out the bedroom window, Galen could almost feel Conar's presence.

  "You never had a choice, my brother." He hung his head. "Neither of us did."

  Chapter 9

  * * *

  Brelan sat in the walled garden of Boreas Keep, his mind on the bright stars just beginning to dim in the pre-dawn sky. He could hear the muted ring of laughter from the kitchens as Sadie told a vulgar joke to one of her serving wenches. The laughter irritated him, rubbed his nerves raw.

  Abruptly, he stood and paced, barely aware of where he was or what he did. He hardly saw the winter-ravaged garden's flowers, falsely decorated with borrowed blooms, or smell their heady fragrance. It had been Liza's choice of a wedding site. Although Liza had most strenuously objected, Tohre performed the ceremony—he could not force Liza to marry in the same place where she had wed Conar, but he still managed to be the one to tie her to Galen.

  Brelan swore. Grasping a dying blossom in his hand, he crushed it, scattering its wilted leaves and petals about the stone pathway. His heart ached at the thought of the wedding between his beloved Elizabeth and the fool to whom he was related by a burst of lust.

  Although he was out in the frigid air, he felt suffocated, unable to draw breath into his tight lungs, as breathless as Conar must have felt when locked in the armoire as a child. A raging pain flared in his temple. He'd never had headaches. Why, now, these debilitating, horribly, blinding pains above his right eye? So like those Conar had experienced since childhood.

  "Why?" he hissed to the gods, who surely must have been laughing. His hands clenched into fists. He slumped down on the fountain's rim and squeezed his eyes shut, blotting out the image of Elizabeth standing beside Galen, taking her vows, having Galen's marriage bracelet placed upon her for all the world to see. With a violent curse, Saur covered his face with his hands and drew in a hard, unsteady breath of cold air.

  "Lord Brelan?"

  "I don't wish to be disturbed!" he shot back.

  Gezelle drew her shawl tighter around her, took courage from her love for Liza, and stood before the man who sat with one booted foot swinging in angry frustration.
>
  Brelan looked up as she came into the light of the blossoming sun seeping through denuded tree branches. He opened his mouth to admonish her, but upon seeing her determined expression, a look far too reminiscent of Liza's stubborn visage, he waited impatiently for her to speak.

  "You do know why she married him, don't you?"

  "Do you?" he snapped.

  "She would have told you if no one else, Lord Brelan. She has told me many times that she trusts you. Can I?" Gezelle queried, her eyes searching his in the spreading light.

  "Who else knows?" he asked, massaging his eye.

  "Hern."

  Brelan snorted. "That old bastard knows everything."

  "He wouldn't tell a living soul." She pulled the shawl around her neck and tucked her chin into the wool. The air was colder than she expected.

  "Go inside, mam'selle," he warned. "There is nothing we can do. I will protect her as best I can. Galen trusts me, since he knows I bore no love for our brother. He won't make me leave as he did Legion and the others."

  Gezelle stared, but didn't speak. Feelings, fleeting, yet powerful, had spread over her that day when, from the balcony, she saw Legion and Brelan removing Conar from the whipping post in the square. For an instant, she had watched a revealing emotion cross Brelan's face as he looked at the tortured body of his younger brother. Gezelle had known, even if he had not, the feeling had been love in its purest form.

  "Do you think she has done the right thing, Gezelle?" he asked, a sad, worried look on his handsome face.

  "As she sees it, aye, Milord. I know how much this marriage sickens you; it sickens me. But there was no other way if the babe was to be kept safe. He will dote on the child."

  Brelan's face turned hard with suspicion. "How can you be sure?"

  "The morning after their wedding, he boasted to several of his guards that he believed he had gotten his wife with child, made bets on how soon an heir would be born." There was a bitter tone in her voice. She turned away, her face furious.

  "Sooner than he thinks!" He stared at Liza's window. Light flooded from the bedchamber.

  "He is watching us," Gezelle said softly.

  "Let him," Brelan snapped. He plowed a hand through his dark hair. "Damn his evil soul to the pit! Couldn't he have had the decency to take another room when he married her?"