He left the room reluctantly and collected the necessary funds before heading back along a different meandering route to the docks. It took some time to focus past his concern for Yiloch and the pleasure of knowing he would be all right. The sight of several building fires being contained brought him back to the reality of the situation. Worry over Yiloch had kept him from thinking of the other lives they had stood to lose in this conflict. So many dear companions had been lost over the last few years. Ferin had joined the list that included commander Dalce and his sister Eris. How many more close companions had nearly died in this battle? How many people whose names he would never know had been lost?
By the time he arrived at the docks again, an ache of loss filled him.
Leaning against the corner of a building, he closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. The smells of the sea and the pungent aroma of fish were comforting. The city suffered a brutal blow, but Yiroth would recover. They would all recover. Even he would eventually recover. Lingering on the things he had lost did no one any good. He was no good to anyone, especially Yiloch, in that state.
Adran opened his eyes and considered the ships rising and falling on gentle waves. Pushing away from the building, he walked out along the dock to the Gilded Dancer. Someone else was on board talking to the ship’s captain. Perhaps he should wait. Then again, this would only take a moment of the captain’s time and the man was probably eager to be on his way. It would be rude to hold him up any longer.
Adran ascended the plank onto the ship and started toward the two conversing men. When he was only a few strides away, the captain glanced at him and nodded respectful acknowledgement. The man speaking to the captain turned also and shock froze Adran. Though his hair and eyes were now a pale, more natural color, Adran knew his face.
A glimmer of surprise flickered in Myac’s eyes, but he smiled as though spotting an old friend.
“Lord Captain Adran,” Myac greeted, adapting to his arrival with chilling ease. “I hoped you would join us soon. Good Captain Lachard is ready to set sail. Are you prepared?”
Adran opened his mouth to say one of the many hateful things running through his mind. Instead, he said, “Yes.” His stomach knotted, fear curdling in his gut as he spoke the word and his lips curled up in a smile, an expression far opposite of what he intended.
The glimmer of cruel satisfaction in Myac’s eyes before he turned back to Captain Lachard made Adran want to scream and run and yet he could only stand and watch. Control of his body, of his voice and expressions, had been taken from him. How? Why? What had the evil bastard done to him?
“You’re going also?” The Captain lifted one thick eyebrow in curious inquiry.
Adran found himself nodding. “Yiloch has unfinished business in Demin,” he answered.
“Very well. If you have my compensation, we’ll get moving.”
Adran nodded again, handing Captain Lachard the pouch of coins. The captain opened it, dumping them into his palm. Myac shifted his weight from one foot to the other, showing a hint of nervous impatience while the man counted. When he looked closer, Adran could see that Myac had deep circles under his eyes and there was a new scar on one side of his face. Whatever hardship he had endured, he still seemed to have enough energy to wreak havoc.
Dumping the coins back into the bag, the captain nodded satisfaction and said, “Tal will show you to your quarters.”
“Thank you.” Myac’s smile was polite, masking his apparent exhaustion for a moment.
Help me. Adran hoped the desperate message would get through somehow when he met the captain’s eyes, but the other man only nodded once and turned away to manage his ship. The adept touched Adran’s elbow and they followed the indicated crewman, heading for the steps that would take them below deck. His mind raced, panic screaming below the calm surface. At least above deck, there was a chance someone would see him and wonder where he was going, someone who might come to question or at least take word back to the palace. Below deck, even that small hope was gone. Adran struggled for control of his body, but it ignored his every effort.
Myac leaned close and murmured in his ear. “Don’t bother,” he said. “You have no chance against me.” Leaning away again, he spoke at a normal volume. “I’m so very glad you could join me, Lord Adran. This little trip promised to be quite dull alone.”
Adran felt a shiver run through him, but it was only in his mind. His body refused to respond even to that.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Despite being held asleep for two hours having his wounds tended, Yiloch’s concern for his city, his people, and for Indigo, wasn’t enough to fend off the natural sleep his body needed. After assisting him to his personal rooms, the surgeons left him and he drifted into an exhausted slumber. The fight with the Grey warlord haunted his dreams. In those dreams, Suac Chozai didn’t arrive on time. Each time the warlord’s final blow struck him, he woke with a start, then exhaustion would drag him down into sleep again and the dream would start over.
Yiloch started awake yet again, though this time it wasn’t the dream that stirred him. Pain shot through every wound. He ground his teeth against it and struggled up to sit on the edge of the bed. There was another knock at the door and he got slowly to his feet. He limped to the door, trying not to pull the stitches in the wound on his thigh. When he opened it, a young, unfamiliar page was lifting his hand to knock again, his brow furrowed with lines of anxiety. Jerking his hand back to his side, he knelt and bowed his head.
“My lord.”
“What is it?” Yiloch asked, unable to keep the strain of weariness from his voice.
“My lord, the surviving Grey warriors are fully contained and under guard. The Kudan suacs have requested an audience.”
“Demanded it, I imagine.”
“Yes, my lord,” the page confirmed, his voice faltering.
“Thank you.” Yiloch rubbed at his temples, struggling against a threatening headache. “Have them brought to the throne room in thirty minutes.”
“Yes, my lord.” The page rose and bowed before turning to leave.
“Wait.” The page stopped, turning back with his head bowed as though he feared to look upon his emperor. “Is there a woman with them?” If she were with them, it would be worth the hassle of dealing with them immediately.
“I do not know, my lord.”
Yiloch waved him away. The possibility of seeing Indigo set his nerves on edge. Their last encounter had involved death threats and much hostility on his part. He dreaded the reception he might get from her, especially now that he owed her a considerable debt for coming to Yiroth’s aide. Why had she come? Had she convinced the Kudaness to help them? It seemed inconceivable that one woman could have done so, but they were here. Something had driven them to this action.
Where was Adran? He remembered someone saying something about Adran at the docks. What about Terral and Lord Theron? He cursed the injuries that left him in this state of pain with little awareness of what was going on outside his rooms. Hax was alive, which meant the prisoners would be handled with the proper caution. He had no doubts about her abilities. Someone had mentioned Leryc helping her. There was still Ian though. He hadn’t seen the young creator since the fighting started. Was he injured? So many questions he didn’t have answers to.
Yiloch grimaced and regretted it when sharp pain blazed through the wound on his jaw. Walking to the mirror, he wiped away a trickle of blood and pressed a linen to it until the bleeding stopped. Then he considered his reflection. The long gash marred smooth pale skin, a glaring red wound that would heal as a thin white scar. He had to fight back a scowl to keep from making the wound bleed again.
He summoned attendants to help him get into clean clothes, something appropriate for the coming meeting. Even with help, the process was a painful struggle. He pondered his sword. Someone had cleaned the weapon and placed it back on the stand in the sitting area of his chambers. The light of a late afternoon sun passed through the faceted crystal
windows and lit the blade in fragmented rays. The weight of it would pull on stitches over his ribs, but he almost never went without the weapon. With a cautious exhale, he turned away, leaving the sword in its place.
To his considerable relief, Ian was waiting outside the door now, leaning against the opposite wall. The young creator had circles under his eyes, but he managed a weary smile that mirrored Yiloch’s own. The simple comfort of Ian’s supportive presence bolstered him, giving him a little more confidence for the coming audience.
“Have you slept?”
Ian shook his head as he fell into step with Yiloch, his stride checked to accommodate his leader’s injuries. “Not really. There was too much to do managing the wounded and controlling the Grey warriors. Though, to be honest, they have actually been rather cooperative. Since I wasn’t hurt, I felt like I should help.”
Guilt twisted in Yiloch’s chest. There would have been little point in him trying to stay out on the field though. His injuries wouldn’t have allowed it.
“Has Adran returned?”
“Not yet.” Ian started to walk at his normal pace then checked his strides again with an apologetic smile. “Hax has been managing quite well though. Adran sent word that he was staying at the docks a while longer to wrap things up with the ship captains. One of the adepts who helped with your healing said Adran stopped in to check on you before heading back out to the docks..”
Yiloch nodded. Adran was attentive to such things. Everyone always got the consideration they needed with him around. The man was a priceless asset, though he would rather have him by his side for this audience.
“And what about—”
“She’s here,” Ian interrupted. He glanced an apology at Yiloch then, his cheeks picking up a pink flush. “Sorry, what were you going to ask?”
“You already answered it. Have you seen her?”
“No, but I can feel her through the link now. I…” Ian trailed off, blanching when he looked at Yiloch this time.
Yiloch forced an easy tone though he felt like someone had stabbed a dagger into his chest. “I wouldn’t expect her to re-establish the link with me after our last encounter. I am glad she is well, though.”
Ian nodded and fell silent, his shoulders hunching as he drew into himself. They continued the walk to the throne room without speaking. Once there, Ian took his customary spot flanking the throne. Hax wasn’t there, but several ranking soldiers were, including Lord Terral who sported a dark bruise over his right temple and a split lip. Theron was also there, standing near Lord Terral, his calm facade broken by the worry in his eyes. Yiloch took his seat on the throne, relieved to take the stress off his leg.
The waiting commenced. Yiloch had to focus to keep from fidgeting as he sat. He must greet the twelve suacs representing the Dursik un Kar properly in respect to their status and the aid they had given Yiroth. What he wanted to do was discard the formality and go to see Indigo. He needed to see for himself that she was alive and well. The wound across his jaw throbbed, the stitches pulling with every slight change in expression. Focusing on that pain helped him keep his regal, calm veneer when the suacs finally entered the throne room. Each suac brought only one warrior from his tribe, a silent commentary to their confidence in their position, a confidence they had earned.
When Suac Chozai entered the room last, Yiloch wasn’t surprised to see his head held high and proud, a hint of smugness in his expression as those copper eyes stabbed into him. Then another figure entered, walking a step behind the tall suac and Yiloch’s heart seemed to stop. The group halted inside the door. Each Suac and warrior stepped off to one side or the other, creating an aisle for Suac Chozai and Indigo, who continued forward. They both stopped at the head of the group and Chozai leaned closer to her, saying something soft in Kudaness that Yiloch couldn’t quite make out. After a few dragging seconds, Indigo nodded and continued forward alone.
As she approached, he was shocked to see a delicate tattoo on her right cheek. Not any tattoo either, but the tattoo of the Kudaness priesthood. A vague recollection came to him of Suac Chozai referring to her as Indigo un Ani on the field. At the time, he’d been too disoriented by pain and blood loss to acknowledge it. When he looked into her eyes, he noted that they were a little different than he remembered. She looked confident and strong if perhaps a bit tired. She didn’t need someone to support her. She certainly didn’t need him. The realization was disheartening somehow. Then he saw a flash of teeth as she bit her lip, betraying her nerves, and his heart began to pound in his chest.
Curse this propriety. He was the emperor.
Yiloch rose and strode down the steps towards her, limping as little as he could in an effort to hide the extent of his injuries from her. A few of her steps faltered, her eyes widening, then she continued, stopping when they were only a few feet apart. He looked into her eyes and a protective anger rose in him when he noticed the flecks of copper within that beautiful blue. How dare they risk her life with the sucar.
His anger melted when she stepped forward, placing her hand tenderly over the gash on his jaw. He felt the wound healing, the stitches falling away. For a moment, he could see her as she had been their first night together in the prison, kneeling on the dirt floor before him to heal the cut in his arm, her eyes focused on the injury then as they were now.
Yiloch placed his hand over hers. She looked up at him, her copper flecked eyes brimming with hope and a shimmer of unshed tears. Relief flooded through him and he pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her and closing his eyes while he breathed in her scent. She wrapped her arms around him in turn, squeezing tight. The pain the embrace caused in his wounds far eclipsed by the pleasure of holding her. He felt her trembling and realized he was trembling as well.
Everyone would be watching them now. Opening his eyes, the first face Yiloch saw was Suac Chozai’s. The insufferable man was grinning like a fool. His expression turned stern the moment he met Yiloch’s eyes and Yiloch grinned at him without pain.
He pushed Indigo gently back and looked into her eyes. There was so much he wanted to say. Instead, he leaned in and she rose onto the balls of her feet to meet his kiss. He kissed her tenderly, savoring the feel of her lips against his, the taste of her. It was hard to believe she was here, that she still wanted him despite all that had passed between them.
Suddenly he felt her within him. The link she had created so long ago, she reestablished now. The feel of her coursed through him and all of his wounds began to heal. Intense pleasure passed through the link, a happiness that warmed him like a fine wine. He had no interest in letting her go. Not ever.
“Indigo un Ani un Yiloch, if you might disentangle yourself we would like to hold council with the Emperor,” Suac Chozai said in Kudaness, his tone soft with affection and pride.
They parted and Yiloch fought off a desire to cling to her. She was his to love, even the Kudaness priest had labeled her his. They had also bound her to them with the title un Ani and the tattoo on her face. Reluctantly acknowledging that she was not really his, he released her. Her faced was flushed when she stepped back and turned towards the Kudan priests.
“Of course,” she replied, also in Kudaness to his surprise. “My apologies. I…”
She hesitated then and Yiloch followed her gaze. In a doorway near the front of the room, Auryl stood staring at them. By her shocked expression, it was clear she had been there for several minutes at least, long enough to see their intimate reunion. Auryl met his eyes for a few seconds, then tears broke from her eyes and she spun, running from the room. Indigo glanced at Suac Chozai. Yiloch felt a surge of distress through her link to him then a cold nothing. The dagger twisted in his chest again and Indigo flinched as if responding to that pain. Her voice was strained when she spoke.
“You do not need me for this, Suac Chozai. I will leave you to your politics.”
Yiloch waved to a page standing near the door. The youth trotted quickly over, bowing his head.
“My
lord.”
“Please show Lady… Please show Indigo un Ani to a room where she can rest and refresh.”
“Certainly. Follow me, my lady.”
Indigo refused to meet his eyes, but she followed the page. He watched her go, itching to follow. He needed to speak with her before she bolted off on her own again. Would she wait?
As she passed through the doorway, Lord Theron met his eyes for an instant, and then hurried after her. Yiloch sighed inwardly, wishing he could do the same. At least Theron might keep her from running away.
“Indigo un Ani will need to be privy to our conversations going forward. She is to act as our ambassador in Yiroth. She will stay in the palace and protect the interests of the Kudaness,” Suac Chozai stated as he too watched her walk away.
Yiloch struggled against a smile at the thought of Indigo staying in the palace. It wasn’t his decision to make. Then the smile faded. Right now, he doubted she would even consider such an idea.
“I gather she doesn’t know this,” he remarked on a hunch.
“She will not disagree,” the suac countered, confident.
“Are we speaking of the same woman?”
The fond smile curved the suac’s lips again and Yiloch marveled that she had weaseled her way into this stern man’s heart against all odds. At least she gave them some common ground. With her power and her charm, she was a considerable asset. If only she really would stay. He swept his eyes over the group of Kudaness, spotting several treated injuries.
“Come, I imagine we would all prefer to discuss things sitting down.” He nodded to Ian who joined them as he led the way to a council chamber off the throne room.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“Indigo, wait.”
She turned in the doorway of the room the attendant had taken her to, recognizing the voice and the man behind her with a start.
Theron.
So much had happened and she was still so exhausted. It was hard not to believe she was imagining things. Her focus in the throne room had been so completely on Yiloch that she hadn’t noticed her uncle. Relief burst through her and with it, all the stress, exhaustion, and hurt came crashing down. She threw herself into his open arms, tears flooding down her cheeks as she buried her face against him. With her ability active, she felt the adoration and relief surging off him when he wrapped his arms tight around her. She was so much more than some burden his brother’s treason had pushed upon him. That sudden certainty made the tears come faster.
Apostate: Forbidden Things Page 19
