WINDWEEPER

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  "Faith, man," she pouted, "you near rubbed the skin off my neck with that scouring pad of yours!" She scraped her hand over her sensitive flesh. "I should have Brelan hold you down while I shave you!"

  "Oh, but you loved it, though." He tangled his hand in the ebony spill of her hair. He stared at her until her eyes met his. For a long moment they looked at one another, then he began to pull her head toward him. He gave her a soft, easy kiss, tasting the sweetness of her lips, could feel her answering kiss before he withdrew his lips. He let her pull away, but he kept his fingers in her hair.

  "Are you happy?" he asked.

  "I am, Milord." A shadow passed over her face, but she smiled to let him know her pain had nothing to do with him. "You make me happy."

  "I love you."

  "And I love you, Milord."

  "You do." There was amazement in his voice as though he could still not believe it was true. A kind of wondrous, childlike disbelief lit his face. "You really do, don't you? You're not just saying what you think I want to hear. You really do love me."

  "I really do. You have been dear to me since the day you first threatened me."

  Legion's eyebrows shot up. "When did I ever threaten you, lady?"

  Liza shrugged. "As I recall, it was by the pond near Lake Myria. If memory serves, you said: 'I will not allow you to hurt him, lady.'"

  Legion smiled. "That was the day Rayle, Teal, and I got drunk. 'Twas not a threat, sweeting."

  "I took it as such. And what you said on mine and Conar's wedding night certainly was a threat."

  "Enlighten me," he grunted.

  "Oh, that went something like: 'If anything happens to my brother, you will have me to deal with.'" She smiled sadly. "And when I asked if that meant you would actually do me harm if I should harm him, you said you would, even knowing you'd hang."

  "I do remember saying that, but I thought I was talking to The Toad. Had I known it was you, Liza-love, I'd have helped you do harm to him that eve." He chuckled. "If my memory serves, I wanted to beat the shit outta him as it was."

  "As did your papa." Liza giggled.

  They looked at one another. Other, more painful, memories intruded. Each looked away, silent for a long time.

  "It was hard for me to love again, Legion," she said softly, breaking their silence. "I never thought to again."

  "I know how much you loved him. I know you always will. It has never been my intention to usurp that love or be in competition with it. I hope you know that."

  She claimed his lips, pressed her breasts into the thick matting of hair on his chest. "I understand that, Milord. That is a great part of the reason I have grown to love you so deeply and so truly. You love him, too, and neither of us has ever wanted to let that love fade."

  "He wanted us to be together."

  "He told me once that, should anything happen to him, he wanted me to go to you. He knew you would protect me."

  "He knew how much I loved you," Legion whispered. "That was no secret."

  "I know he is watching over us, happy that we are happy, and wishing us well. I have to believe he is content that the woman he loved is in love with the brother he loved most."

  "I will love you for as long as there is time, Liza A'Lex," he vowed, his voice gruff. "And even beyond."

  Her small hands moved to his bearded face. She cupped his cheeks, pulled him closer to her questing mouth.

  Her kiss deepened. He felt the flare of his manhood as it strained toward her. With a low groan in his throat, he eased her over until he was atop her, tangling his legs in the bed covers and very effectively denying that part of him which needed her most from touching her. He struggled with the covers, trying to be suave and controlled, but the more he fought, the more he became entangled in their clutch.

  "Damn it!" he spat, kicking at the offending impediment with as much effect as before. He caught one heel in the edge of the coverlet and with a vicious kick, shot it away from one leg. But with dawning exasperation, he realized he couldn't do the same with the other leg, for both Liza and her gown were blocking him, tightly wedged over his thigh. He tried yanking the gown away from him, but it held tight. He tried to roll from it and managed to ensnare his other leg again in the rumpled sheet. With a howl of frustration, he flopped down on the bed, arms flung out, and let out a tremendous sigh of surrender. "Why me?"

  Liza raised one brow. "Having troubles, My Liege?"

  A wicked grin touched his mouth.

  Her eyes widened and she had time enough for a soft, "Oh!" before he grabbed a handful of the coverlet and ripped it away, rolling her onto her belly so he could free his other leg.

  Liza landed face down in one overstuffed pillow, her arms under her. She tried to heave herself up only to have him throw one leg over her and sit gently on her upturned rump. She dropped to the mattress with a soft grunt. His big hands went to her shoulders and he began to ease her gown down the creamy expanse of her arms.

  "Ah, Liza," he mumbled deep in his throat as he started to plant soft, fleeting kisses down her bare neck and back, over her shoulder blades. Her gown was caught on the peaks of her breasts and would go no further, but he didn't seem to mind. He grinned at her small groan of protest as he continued to kiss the outreaches of her shoulders and upper arms.

  "Get…off…me…you…oaf!"

  He bit her tenderly on the side of the neck, sending chills and tingles through her belly. "What'd you say?" he asked.

  She giggled as his tongue spiraled down the side of her face. "Get off! Get off of me!"

  "Okay," he said nonchalantly.

  He rolled off her, lay on his side, his head propped on one fist. Liza saw the challenge on his face and flipped over, flinging her arms out beside her and spreading her legs wide. "I am helpless, oh mighty brute. Do with me as you will!" she said dramatically.

  Legion covered his mouth with his hand, patting his yawning lips in a broad gesture of unconcern and boredom. "I find I am no longer in the mood." He sprang out of bed and stooped to retrieve the coverlet. Wrapping it around him like a toga, he went to stand at the open door to the balcony. "Do you not think it a lovely day?" he asked in a cultured, kingly tone.

  "Oh, Legion," she sang to him.

  "We could do with a spot of rain."

  "Legion!" came the staccato burst, whispered with force.

  He turned and his breath caught in his throat. She was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, leaning back on one hand. There was a teasing smile on her full lips and she was stark naked. She crooked her finger at him. "Come here," she whispered, her voice a husky challenge.

  She watched the gleam in his eyes grow red hot; her smile deepened. She had him now. But to make damn sure she did, she looked down at her body, then back at him, lingering on that section of his naked anatomy just below center. She could have sworn she saw the coverlet pulse forward as she ran her tongue over her parted lips.

  Legion stood transfixed. He took in the wildly tousled hair, the swollen lips, the straining points of her coral breasts, the softly flaring hips, the long tapered legs. He watched her fling her long hair over one creamy shoulder and his eyes flew to the jiggle of her bare breasts. Silently, he opened the coverlet wide, holding out his arms to her, and waited.

  "Ho, hum," she sighed and she got off the bed. "If I must, I must." With head lowered, feet dragging, she ambled forward.

  "Woman," Legion warned, one thick brow lifted. "If you make me come get you…"

  He had no time to finish his threat. She ran at him, flung her arms around his neck and hungrily claimed his mouth.

  * * *

  Brelan sat on the edge of the platform in the Tribunal Square. He, too, had a need to regularly visit it, though he wished Legion had torn down the damned thing, burned it, scattered the ashes to the Four Winds and beyond. For some dark, unrelenting reason, he found his way here today and wondered why he felt so close to Conar at this spot, and why he should even want to.

  He looked away from th
e gallows to the right and up at the whipping post. Neither rain nor snow nor buffeting winds nor peeling heat had stripped the beam of those terrible stains. He felt a chill go through him.

  A movement in the King's master suite caught his attention. There in the window of the balcony stood Legion. For a brief moment, their eyes met, held, and then Legion turned.

  He sat watching his brother, puzzled by the man's odd behavior. When Legion opened his arms, flinging the quilt wide, and just stood there, Brelan's nose wrinkled. "The man's gone stark, raving mad," he whispered.

  Standing, Brelan stared up at the queer antics of a man he had always thought rather intelligent and normal.

  When the quilt closed forward, he caught a sheen of blue-black hair peeking out, just under his brother's chin, and understood. His heart lurched painfully in his chest.

  He was happy for her, of course. At least, that was what he tried to tell himself. She had found great happiness with Legion, with his brother. With Conar's brother. She could laugh again. She had found her life again.

  As though to underline that thought, a female's childish giggle drifted down to him. He turned, his gaze going automatically to the whipping post. That was no better, so he started back to the keep.

  He wondered what bothered him the most. Liza's newfound love; the sight of Legion with the woman Brelan loved more than life itself; not being allowed to claim his daughter; or the whipping post that had taken away the brother he had loved so dearly…

  Brelan stopped dead in the middle of the courtyard. The hair along his neck prickled. Sweat in his suddenly damp hands scalded him. His hands trembled; his heart thudded. He knew if he looked into a mirror, he would see a ghastly white face devoid of its natural ruddy color.

  "The brother I loved so dearly?" he questioned. "Where did that thought come from?"

  He ran a shaking hand through his dark hair. He could feel his heart beating so fast he was beginning to have trouble breathing.

  Was it true? he wondered. Did I love him?

  "I did. The gods help me, but I did!"

  His footsteps took him to the Temple, the last place he ever wanted to be. It was here where Liza had married Conar. It was here where Liza had wed Galen. It was here where Liza's wedding to Legion had been sanctified when she had been able to leave her birthing bed.

  And it was here, in this terrible place of death and destruction and pain, where Brelan's hopes and dreams and desires had been repeatedly shattered, destroyed, where his daughter, Ceara, had been christened another man's child.

  Some part of him had hoped Liza would one day turn to him as she had that night in the storm, but she hadn't. She had rekindled that special bond with Legion and that old connection had turned from comradeship to devotion; love now burned where friendship had once smoldered.

  Watching their love grow hurt him. In his heart Brelan knew he was never destined to have her. And that hurt more than any physical pain the Tribunal could mete out.

  He sank to his knees before the great statue of Alel, and looked into the dark blue sapphire eyes. He felt betrayed. He felt so alone.

  And lonely.

  * * *

  Legion lay beside his wife, watching her sleep. He drank in her delicate beauty, the heavy sweep of her dark curls fanned out on the pillow. His heart was full, aching with the sight of her, and his body was heavy with a passion he knew would never be sated.

  Though he had lain with her, claimed her, many times, he was still amazed she belonged to him and that he had the right to love her. And he could not stop thinking how close he had came to throwing it all away on the day his father died.

  He'd had every intention of leaving Boreas forever. When he had met Galen on the stairs that day, he made up his mind to denounce his citizenship and move to Chrystallus to be with his Aunt Dyreil, the empress of that luxurious country. He believed he could not, in good conscience, stand by while Liza wed Galen to become queen of Serenia. He had been so angry, hurt by what he thought was her betrayal of Conar, and nothing save imprisonment could keep him near her despite his oath of loyalty to his country.

  But that was before Liza had come to him, weak and tired from having given birth, and gone to her knees before him…

  "I did not betray your brother. How could you think it of me?"

  "You married that son-of-a-bitch!" he accused. "You don't think that's betrayal?"

  "Please trust my reasons were honorable and…"

  "Did Galen or Tohre threaten you?"

  She lowered her eyes. "Aye, but in a way I cannot speak of it. One day you will see why, Legion, and know. For now, will you trust that I did what was best for Conar?"

  "Conar is dead!" Legion cried, his eyes filling with moisture. "Dead and gone!"

  "Not here!" she threw back, her hand on her heart. "Never gone from here, Milord Legion. Never gone from here!"

  He had seen the pain in her lovely eyes, heard it in her voice, and despite the anger that still held him gripped in its ragged talons, he had done as she asked and walked with her to the library. Two hours later, he agreed to stay and keep his opinion to himself until such time as she could fully explain to him why she had so hastily married Galen.

  "Corbin," he sighed, picturing his nephew.

  Aye, he thought. What other reason could there have been and he too blind to reason it out for himself?

  While their friendship had not reverted to the easy, bantering playfulness it had been before Conar's death, at least it had been pleasant and without rancor. As for Liza, her attitude toward him had never changed. By the time he understood why she had married Galen, his and Liza's relationship had again changed and he was betrothed to her. It was a change he would never have dreamed possible and one he thanked the gods for everyday.

  "You're staring."

  Legion blinked, aware his lady was awake. He blushed and shrugged.

  "A copper for your thoughts, Milord," she said, smoothing the hair from his temple.

  "I almost threw it all away, Liza."

  She understood and nodded. "But you didn't."

  "You think maybe he had a hand in me staying?"

  "I'd like to think so."

  Legion propped his head on his fist. "Do you think he watches us?"

  "As you and Teal and Thom watched us out on the beach that day?" she asked archly.

  "Oh," he said, the word dropping like a rock. "I'd forgotten about that."

  "He never did, though he never actually took revenge for your snooping, he often told me he was still planning how best to get back at you three."

  "As I remember it, he filled Thom's boots with molasses and spiked my milk with enough tenerse to make me uncomfortable when we were on maneuvers near Ledo and not a woman within fifty miles."

  Liza's eyes grew wide. "Tenerse? The drug that…" She guffawed. "By the gods, that is rich!"

  "You'd not think so if you were as horny as a ram and there was nothing to ram!"

  Liza wiped tears of mirth from her eyes. "That is so like him, but I didn't know he'd taken his revenge. What did he do to Teal?"

  "You remember when Teal was absent from court for about a month?"

  "It was fall. He missed the Harvest Festival at Corinth. Someone mentioned it was the first time he hadn't been there to make a bet on the wrestling matches."

  "Aye, well the reason he wasn't there is because he was sitting in a jail in Colsaurus, accused of gambling with marked cards. Conar marked three decks, and stuck them in Teal's saddlebags. Our Conar had a wicked streak up his back a mile wide."

  "Teal could have been hanged for something he didn't even know he was doing!"

  "I doubt Coni would have allowed that, but I believe the jail time was partly due to Teal's spying on the two of you that day and that little sojourn Coni spent in the Wixenstead Village jail before you two married."

  "When Teal gave him the counterfeit money for passage home. You men," she said, shaking her head. "It's a wonder any of you reached maturity."

&
nbsp; "Who says we have?"

  She snuggled close to him. "That was a mature thing you did to me this morn, my Liege."

  "I did something to you this morn, my Queen?" he asked innocently.

  "Care you to see if you can do it again?"

  "Faith, but I don't remember doing anything save sleeping, Your Grace. I…" He stopped as she grasped that part of him he had exercised so maturely earlier.

  "I've heard tales of this one-eyed demon from many a lass in this keep," she said, gently massaging her husband.

  "Really?" He swallowed in an effort to pretend he was unaffected by her ministrations.

  "I recall hearing that Lord Legion A'Lex was well-endowed and quite the swordsman."

  "Swordsman," Legion squeaked as sweat began popping out on his upper lip.

  "One maiden said she had been nearly split asunder by the great man's weighty shaft."

  "If I shafted her, she was no maiden."

  "But when I first laid eyes on the weapon, I remember thinking something entirely different."

  Legion looked down at her. "That sounds like an insult, lady."

  She tugged tightly on his penis, the thickness of it not even allowing her fingers to meet around the circumference, and shrugged. "Not necessarily."

  He was up and over her, her hand caught between them before she could react. With his body pressed heavily to hers, his hands braced to either side of her head, he lowered his face to hers.

  "What think you of that weapon you are toying with, Milady?" he asked in a husky voice. "Think you it is a lethal appliance?"

  She could feel his shaft throbbing in her grip. Her lower body grew heavy and hot with need. "I think it isn't nearly as destructive as some maids…"

  "Whores. Let's call a spade, a spade, lady."

  "All right. I think it isn't as destructive as those whores led me to believe."

  "If not destructive, then what, Milady?"

  She giggled. "Highly explosive, if experience serves."

  He wriggled against her. "And its pleasuring value, lady? What think you of that?"

  Liza licked her upper lip, grinning evilly at his instant look of arousal. "I forget."