Teal stood and stretched. "I think that would be wise. He’s angry with us as it is. Our presence may only serve to further irritate him."
"You just don’t like discord, du Mer," Legion snapped.
"True, but I think Conar would like this time alone with Liza."
"Maybe so," Legion concurred. "He’s hurting so bad. I can feel it."
"Liza’s with him. She knows how to handle him," Teal remarked. "This is nothing new for her."
"My heart aches for him," Legion admitted. "I see nothing but pain, and more pain, ahead for him."
Rayle stood and gazed off into the distant, his soldier’s ear cocked for a sound he had heard as the men talked. The mourning dove had stopped its infernal trill, a sign something had disturbed the bird’s songfest. His hand came up to still the conversation and when he knew the others were heeding his warning, he stooped and drew his sword from the scabbard by his bedroll. "Rider coming."
Legion and Teal took up their own weapons. Out in the middle of nowhere, as they were, precaution kept one alive. The threat of some blackguard holding the heir to the throne of Serenia hostage for ransom was not something Conar’s friends took lightly. Despite their playing around with Conar and Liza, the three men took their responsibilities to their Overlord seriously.
As one, the men moved out of the clearing and through the thick foliage leading to the roadway, careful to make as little noise as possible. Crouching low beneath the branches, they blended in with the silent, still-dark forest and made their way to the strip of roadway beyond.
The sound of hooves on the pre-dawn air was easily heard now, the rider not bothering to silence his steed’s snorting and jingling harness.
Coming onto the road, the three men waited for the rider to approach.
Rayle grimaced, then let out a sigh. "I think it’s my brother," he said, relief in his voice.
"What’s he doing out here?" Teal inquired.
"Ho, there!" Thom Loure called as he spied the men. "Been looking for you!"
"What are you doing out of bed so early, Thommy?" Rayle snapped as his brother drew near.
"Wasn’t by choice!" came the merry reply. He reined in his huge palfrey and came down from the saddle with a heavy thud of big feet. "Good morn."
Thom Loure was only a few minutes younger than Rayle, looked exactly like him except for one minor difference. His hair—or what there was of it, for he kept most of it shaved—was jet black where Rayle’s was flaming red. One long pigtail hung down from a three-inch-wide section of hair from brow to base of skull. The rest of his skull was blue-black with stubble. Both men had a wicked sense of humor, a disposition that remained hidden by their scowling faces, and comical expressions that made children love them dearly. Rayle doted on Thom, and Thom idolized Rayle.
"Why were you looking for us?" Legion asked.
The smile left Thom’s congenial face. "Things are in a mighty uproar, Commander. The King sent me to bring back his son. Is he with you?"
"Aye, he is." Legion turned to Teal. "You’d better go get him."
"Me?" Teal gasped. "Why me?"
"Just go, damn it!" Legion snarled.
Teal glanced at Thom. "Is there some hurry?" He sensed he wasn’t going to like Thom’s answer.
Thom glanced at his twin. "The wedding party has arrived and they are wanting to move up the wedding."
Legion cursed beneath his breath and turned his back on the men so they could not see the look on his face.
"Is she there, too, this time?" Teal asked, now more hesitant than ever to go after Conar. As far as Teal knew, the Princess Anya had not, as yet, stepped foot inside Serenia. Not once during all the times the marriage had been postponed for first one reason and then another. If she was here now, that was trouble.
"Aye," Thom said, causing Teal to groan.
"Did you see her?" Rayle asked.
"I saw this little woman in a veil hobble up the steps to the keep."
"You saw her," Rayle mumbled. "Then it is this time," he said to no one in particular.
There was a moment’s silence as the men digested this news before Legion turned on Teal and snapped at him. "Go fetch him, now, du Mer!"
"Is our lady with him?" Thom asked his brother.
"Aye," Rayle said and put an arm around his twin, "and this ain’t gonna be a pleasant journey home."
Legion watched Teal disappearing through the trees. His heart was filling with a hot pain. He knew there was going to be trouble and also knew he would be the one expected to handle it. "How soon is the wedding going to be moved up?" he asked Thom.
"This weekend," Thom answered, making Legion flinch.
"That’s only three days away!" Rayle muttered. "How do they expect him there by then?"
"They knew where you were," Thom told him.
"How?" There was disbelief in Rayle’s voice.
"I don’t know. They just did."
Legion tuned out Rayle and Thom’s conversation and wondered at the new feeling creeping into him, something alien he had never before experienced. He poked at it as one would an aching tooth, worrying the pain, marveling at it. He shook his head. Was it relief he was feeling? Relief that it would soon be over and done with.
Turning away from the twins, he crossed near the picket line where their horses were and thought he saw movement in the trees, but when he stopped and looked closer, there was nothing there. He listened hard, but nothing moved. Sighing at his own nerves, he hunched before the fire and stared into the flames.
He now realized what he had felt was more than relief that the marriage was about to take place. He also felt guilty. He was experiencing an unnerving happiness that made him giddy. He was too afraid to examine that feeling closely for he feared it had everything in the world to do with Liza’s upcoming availability.
He began to steel himself for the battle of wills between himself and his brother that he knew was coming.
* * *
He turned over in his sleep and reached out for Liza. When his hand encountered only empty space, he opened his eyes and looked beside him. He raised his head and peered around, softly calling her name, but there was no answer. He heard footsteps coming through the trees and laid down his head, waiting for her to return. He listened as leaves crunched and bushes were pushed aside. Frowning, he realized the footsteps were too heavy for a woman’s and he sat up again, listening more intently.
At Teal’s summons, he ground his teeth together and stood, dragging on his breeches.
"Conar?" Teal called and nearly jumped out of his skin as Conar answered.
"I’m here, du Mer," Conar snapped. He had emerged out of the forest like a specter.
"Your father sent Thom Loure after you," Teal blurted, wanting to get this over with.
Conar was beginning to feel a cold dark finger of dread tracing its way down his spine through his shirt. "Why?"
"You won’t like it."
Rapidly losing what little patience he had, Conar squinted at his friend. "Get on with it! What does Papa want?" The cold finger had slipped down to claw at his spine.
Taking a deep breath, Teal answered in a rush. "They are here. They’ve brought The Toad this time, Conar, and are demanding the wedding be moved up." He took one look at the horror stamped on his friend’s face and had to look away.
"Moved up to when?" Conar asked quietly, wondering what was taking Liza so long.
"I think Thom said this weekend."
Conar stared at him with a sudden understanding that made his face turn white. "Liza," he whispered.
"You can’t take her back with us," Teal protested, gathering courage from Conar’s quietness. "Maybe Thom can take her to Ivor."
"Is she with the others?" he asked, his heart hammering painfully.
Teal stared at him. "Isn’t she with you?"
The wound down his spine gaped open and Conar wanted to groan with the agony of it. Breaking into a run, he skirted the clearing where they had camped, rushing past
the three men who looked up in alarm at his flight. He heard Legion call to him, but he was incapable of answering. His total concentration was on the picket line where their horses had been tethered just outside the clearing.
He knew even before he got there what he would find, but still his throat constricted as he lurched to a stop. Reaching out for a nearby tree to keep from falling in his headlong rush, his eyes swept the horses. There had been five last evening.
Now, there were four.
His breath was ragged as he gasped in air and a trembling hand went up to push the hair from his eyes.
"Liza?" he asked so softly he could barely hear himself. He could feel the wound along his spine dripping away his life’s blood. He shook his head to clear it of the agony throbbing there, but the pain only intensified. He stared straight ahead at the empty place beside Seayearner where her mare had been tied. Her saddle and bridle were gone as well.
She was gone.
Somehow with her witch’s sight, she had seen this coming last evening. She had asked him had he heard Them calling to her.
Who? he thought. Who had called to her? Who had made her leave him? He feared it was the Multitude, and a cold horror flooded his body as his father’s words came back to him: "No man marries a Daughter of the Multitude and sleeps with another woman."
Had They taken Liza from him? Was The Toad more than she appeared? Was she like his mother, a Daughter of the sect?
Liza could not stay. She had tried to tell him as much. She had known that, if she stayed, he would have tried to prevent her from leaving him. She had given him no choice. She had taken the decision out of his hands.
Or had she?
Who was responsible for Liza bringing his world to a grinding halt?
Not since his mother died had he felt this kind of pain. He had put his tears aside then, as he had put his childhood aside, but now hot tears of sorrow slowly ran down his flushed cheeks to scald him. His hand trembled as he reached to brush away the treacherous signs of weakness. He gazed in confusion at the wetness that clung to his fingertips, staring at it for a long time before he let his hand fall to his side, and he gave way to the tears.
Then he raised his hand again and stared with surprised eyes to see a thin braid circling his wrist. He touched the gleaming black strands with the tip of one finger and knew she had tied the lock of her hair around his wrist while he slept.
Before she left him.
"Liza?" he questioned softly.
"To remember me by, Milord," flitted through his mind.
His proud shoulders sagged as his entire body shook from the effort to hold back the wrenching sobs. He tried desperately to stop from whimpering with the pain, but his tears grasped him with unsheathed claws, tearing at his vital organs, eating away at him with a vengeance.
With his fists tightly clenched, he sank to his knees on the cold ground and his head fell forward to his chest. Unstoppable tears burst from him and a piteous moan came from his very depths. Wrapping his arms around himself, he began to rock back and forth with the rhythm of his pain, gripping himself so tightly the flesh along his ribcage began to bruise, but the agony of losing Liza cut too deep for him to feel physical discomfort.
"Liza," he whimpered to the silent morning.
Deep in his soul, he knew he’d never see her again. She had taken his heart as she fled. The thought of never being with her was more than he could bear.
Life without Liza would be a living hell.
Legion and the other men entered the picket area behind him. The wretchedness of his sobbing tore at their hearts, brought tears to their own eyes.
Legion bent to put his arms around Conar. "She’s gone?"
Conar turned fierce eyes on his brother, daring Legion to touch him. One look at the hard and cold face was enough to make Legion back away.
Conar didn’t hear them leave. His head was bent, his heart breaking. He felt such intense hurt within him, could barely breath for it. "Oh, Alel, why?" he asked his god. "Why?"
He felt so alone. He was alone. He would forever be alone, now. There was nothing left, no future to cling to. In her arms, the world had been held at bay. Nothing could hurt him as long as he had her. Now, that peace, so fleeting in his life, like his innocence, his trust, and his future, was gone. Life would forever be filled with memories he would never let die.
"What did I ever do to deserve what You’ve done to me, Alel? Have I been so wicked You must punish me?" He turned his head to one side in anguish and the tears flowed down his cheek. "What did I do?"
He felt broken; shattered beyond repair, the pieces of his heart bleeding and torn. Shaking his head to clear it of confusion, he looked around, trying to find the reason, any reason, any explanation, for it all, but only the soft soughing of the wind and the miserable sound of a mourning dove answered his silent questions.
He listened, thinking the mourning dove’s cry the loneliest sound he had ever heard. It, like him, called for its mate.
"Gone," it seemed to say. "Ever gone."
A cold blast of frigid air came hurtling down from the high peaks of Mount Serenia and the trees swayed with the force. Branches rustled overhead, dropping leaves about him. His golden hair blew about his face, the cold wind freezing the tears on his cheeks, chilling him to the very marrow of his bones.
"I have nothing," he whispered to the mourning dove. "Nothing at all."
And the knowledge cut him deeply.
In despair, he arched back his head and an unearthly animal cry of torment burst from his throat.
Legion’s head snapped up at the sound. It was an eerie sound, long, and echoing as it hovered on the morning breeze. There was defeat in the cry, soul-wrenching agony, abandonment; it had been a sound meant to be silent. Never heard. Never felt.
"Should you go to him?" Teal asked. With his gypsy instinct, he could feel Conar’s great pain.
Legion couldn’t answer. He didn’t know how to answer. He wanted to go to his brother. Felt that he should, but he couldn’t move. Conar’s cry had paralyzed him. The sound, shattering the morning silence, had come from the very pit of his brother’s bleak soul and it had deeply hurt Legion. There was nothing he, nor the other men, could do for Conar McGregor.
What hundreds of his enemies had tried to accomplish had easily been done to Conar by the carelessness of one small hand. Nothing had ever before brought the man to his knees. Not punishments when he was growing up, nor disappointments as a man. He had always seemed to be able to withstand all the loss and pain, hurt and disillusionment thrown at him over the years.
But this had been too much to ask.
Legion swiped angrily at his tears. "She knew this would happen," he said, his face blazing with resentment. He ground his teeth together. "I knew this would happen."
"She won’t be back, will she?" Thom asked his twin.
Rayle shook his head and blanched as another heart-rending cry came from the forest. "I think not."
"The gods help him," Teal whispered. Another pitiful cry rent the air and Teal turned on Legion. "For the love of Alel, do something, A’Lex!"
The fall air had turned as cold as the darkest winter night, and a wind now shifted among the trees; chilling, freezing; killing. Snow wasn’t long in coming, for the smell of it was in the air. Legion went to his brother, carrying a blanket and a flagon of hot mulled wine from Thom’s saddlebags.
Conar sat beside the horses, his knees tightly drawn up and clasped within the perimeter of his arms. He was shivering badly, his lips blue, his cheeks a bright red, but he didn’t seem to notice the cold. He didn’t look up at Legion or acknowledge in any way that his brother had joined him. He stared straight ahead to the empty space beside Seayearner.
Legion placed the blanket around Conar’s shoulders and sat the flagon of wine beside him on the ground. Hunkering down, he put his hand on the tousled blond hair and stroked back a heavy, wind-dampened lock that had fallen across Conar’s forehead.
"Do yo
u want me to stay with you?"
Conar heard him. He didn’t answer, but he had heard. He couldn’t seem to do anything but stare at the horses.
Legion stood, his face tight with emotion. Looking at the defeated slump of his brother’s shoulders, he felt a great pain enter his heart.
"I love you, Conar," he whispered, then abruptly turned, and headed back to the fire.
Conar’s lips trembled and a single tear crept down his right cheek. He turned his head and watched his brother walk away. He wanted to thank him. He wanted to tell him he returned that love, but it took too much effort. He was too tired. Too heartsick. Too devoid of feeling, now. He was numb to the core of his being. All the fight had been drained from him and it had left him hollow. There was such a vast emptiness inside his chest where his heart had been, he felt used up, discarded.
His head sagged to his knees as fresh sobs shook his body.
"How is he?" Rayle asked.
"Is he all right?" Teal wanted to know.
"No," Legion snapped, "he isn’t all right. There isn’t anything any of us can do to help right now."
"Should we keep watch over him?" Teal asked.
"Surely you don’t think he’d do harm to himself!" Thom gasped.
Legion leveled a steady gaze at the man. "He tried once before," he said quietly.
Rayle shook his head in protest. "But he was young then. What was he, twelve? Thirteen?" He glanced at Thom. "It was why he was sent home from the temple. He nearly died."
"I didn’t know," Thom mumbled, lowering his head. Surely the Prince wouldn’t do such a thing now.
"We don’t know what to expect. You never truly know what he’s thinking." Teal pulled his cape closer. "I’ve seen him down, but never like this. Not when he came home from the Temple or when his mama died."
"It galls me to spy on him," Rayle remarked.
"You didn’t see the look in his eyes," Legion reminded him.
"How did he try to do hurt to himself as a boy?" Thom asked.
"He cut his wrists. You have to look closely to see the scars. Healer Cayn carefully stitched the wounds."
"But why?"
"No one knows, Thommy. He has never talked to anyone about his reasons."
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