VirtualHeaven

by Ann Lawrence

  Blood would flow.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Did I die? Are you an angel?” Maggie yawned and stretched, rubbing her back against a soft, grassy bed.

  The hovering angel smiled. “Many consider me so. ‘Tis true few men will fight me for fear they slay some messenger of the gods.” The angel touched her cheek.

  “Ker,” Maggie screamed, scrambling to her feet. The man was not a dream. He was real, huge, and beautiful, so achingly beautiful that her mangy Kered looked like a gargoyle in comparison.

  “Vad!” Kered embraced the angel, engulfing him in a back-breaking hug. “How did you find us?”

  “Nilrem. How else? Are you truly going on the quest… No, do not answer.” Vad broke from Kered’s arms and strode to Windsong’s saddle lying by the fire. He knelt and ran a hand over the hilt of the sacred sword. Reverence lit his face.

  Should Kered’s friend be kneeling in a chapel, Maggie thought, he might be some visitor from heaven. His white cloak, heavily embroidered down the back with gold and black, hung from broad shoulders. His hair was a shade of blond that looked almost silver in the dawning light. His profile was breathtaking. She looked from Kered to Vad. Kered stood several inches taller, but Vad’s body was leaner, slimmer.

  A Warrior God and now an angel. What next?

  A jingle of harness drew her eyes. An angel’s horse. Maggie instantly thought of fairy tales. A white steed. A handsome prince. She searched the horizon for the evil witch. Surely a counterpoint was needed for so much dazzling perfection. She shivered as if some harbinger of evil had crossed her path.

  “I did not believe,” the young man said in a hoarse whisper. “May I?”

  Kered flicked a negligent hand at the sword, and his friend rose and pulled it from the scabbard. With practiced ease, just as Kered had done, he swiped the air, took the sword’s measure, felt its weight. “‘Tis fine. They do not make swords like this anymore. Look at the detail on the hilt. Nilrem says you will bear this as your own arms before the council and seek peace. I want to attend you at your ring ceremony.” Vad presented the sword to Kered, hilt first, laying it with reverence in his friend’s palm.

  Kered took it and hefted it once before he sheathed it in Windsong’s saddle.

  “It would be an honor to have you attend me, but the blade will earn me only prestige. Acquiring the cup will gain me a council seat.”

  “‘Tis why I followed, my friend. One man against the guards at N’Olava? ‘Tis folly. Take me with you.”

  Maggie studied the frown on Kered’s face as he busied himself securing his saddle to Windsong’s back. He hiked the girth tight and Windsong bucked his hind legs in protest.

  Kered slapped him on the flanks. “No. You may not accompany me. I do not wish to be responsible for your death.” Kered shook his head.

  “My death? I am as able as you!” Vad strode angrily to Kered, his white cloak swinging out behind him in an inanimate protest. “Since when have we counted our safety in aiding a friend?”

  “Since the friend was you.” Kered turned to Vad and clasped his arm. “I thank you for the offer, but we go alone.”

  Vad faced Maggie. “You would take this female to assist you and refuse one of your lieutenants?’’ The look he shot her could boil blood.

  “Did Nilrem not tell you why she accompanies me?’’ Kered swung up into his saddle.

  “Aye. Some rot about omens and necklaces.” Vad fisted his hands on his hips.

  “Show him the necklace, Maggie.” Kered’s face lit like a child anticipating the presentation of something wonderful.

  She drew the pendant from its hiding place against her skin. The waves of anger coming from the angel made her step back a pace as he drew nearer. Unlike Kered’s, Vad’s clothing was immaculate. His long white tunic with gold braiding and his trousers, black and clingy-leather like Kered’s, were as perfect as his face. His high black boots could serve as a mirror. If she looked, Maggie knew she’d see her grimy face. Thank God she’d braided her hair. Vad’s blond hair, swept back from his brow, fell in long waves below his shoulders, cut so perfectly he might have stepped from a Manhattan salon. She continued to retreat until Kered spoke.

  “Stand fast, Maggie. Vad will not hurt you. Show him the necklace.” With reluctance, she stood still and held the pendant out for him.

  Vad did not look at the necklace. Instead he stared, gape-mouthed. “Your skin. ‘Tis red.”

  Kered frowned. “Attend the necklace and not my slave’s skin.”

  Vad whirled, his scabbard knocking painfully against Maggie’s knees. “Not you, too,” he said.

  Kered glared at his friend.

  “Nilrem says she is from beyond the ice fields. A runaway. You claim her?”

  “Aye. I claim her.” The two men stood in silence, facing one another. “Attend the necklace,” Kered repeated.

  Maggie could only see Kered’s face. Deep lines of fatigue and anger pulled at his mouth.

  “I see.” Vad turned away, his shoulders slumping.

  “You see nothing,” Kered said to his back.

  Vad approached Maggie, his eyes locked on hers. Dejected eyes. Cerulean. Heavenly. Hypnotic.

  “Nilrem thinks your master abused you.” Vad spoke softly, so only she could hear.

  “I have no master,” Maggie said with bitterness. This was getting tedious.

  “May I?” He asked permission, but didn’t wait for it to be granted. His long-fingered hand brushed hers as he lifted the pendant.

  “By the sword. ‘Tis the sacred eight.” Amazement banished his downcast aspect.

  He turned the pendant from side to side, the red light glinting from a gold ring on his middle finger. Maggie studied it closely. The strands of gold interlocked in an ancient Celtic pattern she recognized well. Her chain echoed its twists.

  “The craftsman who fashioned this is talented. No, a genius. I see no joins. And the chain—” His fingers slid up the silver links to her neck.

  Kered growled.

  Vad dropped the necklace as if it burned, turning abruptly away. “‘Tis fated,” Vad said, moving to Kered’s side.

  “Fated, fated, damn it,” Maggie muttered, going around the beautiful warrior and clambering up behind Kered. She settled herself, tugging his shirt as neatly as possible about her thighs.

  “Lovely,” Vad murmured.

  Maggie blushed, for he was inspecting her legs.

  “I thank you for your offer of help, but I wish to make the journey alone,” Kered said. Windsong danced at his snarling tone.

  Vad scowled back. “We were found together on Nilrem’s mountain as orphans. We were raised together, though Leoh claimed but you as his own. We have campaigned together for a decade. I know you well enough to understand why you wish me gone. I had thought you were different from the rest, but I see I was wrong.”

  Vad’s upturned face revealed a hurt so clearly etched it was painful to see. Maggie gripped Kered’s belt to keep from falling as Windsong sidled and pranced. Kered’s back was as stiff and as unyielding as a block of concrete.

  “I cannot deny it,” Kered said. “‘Tis the first time I have—have understood.” He reached out and touched his friend’s shoulder.

  Vad shook off Kered’s hand. “So, I do not have even you to count as friend.” He turned and stormed to his waiting stallion, who, unlike Windsong, stood stock-still, well-trained and obedient. He mounted in a movement far less fluid than Kered’s, then yanked the reins and rode to their side. The red sun behind him lit his silvery hair like a fiery halo.

  “I meant no offense,” Kered said, reaching out again.

  Vad spurned his extended hand. “Yet, I am offended. I offer only arms to make your quest. Nothing else will happen.”

  Kered lowered his hand and fisted it on his thigh. “Nilrem’s beard! You cannot control the thoughts of others.”

  “And what of trust? In me? And others?” Vad asked.

  “Trust?” Kered’s back eased, his fi
st relaxed, and he spread his fingers on his thigh, rubbing as if his flesh itched.

  “Aye. Trust. Have we not even that between us?” Vad waited, his own hands white-knuckled on his reins.

  A shudder ran up Kered’s spine. Maggie’s arms encircled his waist. He was making some decision, and she squeezed him to reassure him. About what, she hadn’t figured out. He placed a hand over hers and returned the pressure.

  “I would be honored to have you accompany us on the quest.” Kered’s voice was rough on the words.

  “You will not regret it,” Vad said, then swung his horse in a dancing circle, whooping and shouting like a crazed cowboy at a rodeo.

  “By the sword, I hope not,” Kered whispered, then spurred Windsong to a gallop. Maggie bent her head against the rushing wind, pressing her cheek to his back. Behind her, the thunder of hooves told her Vad followed.

  “Ker’s exhausted,” Maggie said, kneeling by Kered’s angelic friend.

  “Speak more slowly. You are most difficult to understand,” Vad said.

  And you sound like an old, English B movie. She signed. He edged away from her. Did she smell bad? Probably. She probably had bad breath, too. “I will try…I am glad you are here. Kered has pushed himself beyond his limits. He never sleeps and except for a few little blue things he caught and roasted, he has eaten only bread and water.”

  “He is most canny at snaring the blue-Goh.” The angel looked fondly on his friend. “Not so good with the green.” Kered’s snores nearly drowned out their conversation, but they kept their voices low.

  “Thank you for coming. He only lets me take a watch for a few hours, then he forces himself to take over. You can probably count on one hand the number of decent hours of sleep he’s had in weeks. The man is driven.”

  “He lets you watch?” Vad’s arched brows lifted in surprise. “What a thought!”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Maggie shot him a venomous glare. “I’m perfectly able to—”

  “Slowly, softly,” Vad waved a hand at her. “You will wake him. I meant no insult.”

  Maggie whispered. “You and I need to get a few things straight.” She spoke slowly and enunciated every word in case he didn’t understand. “I am not a slave. Neither you nor Kered can say anything to change that. Beyond the ice fields things are different. You will have to accept that.”

  “Kered accepts that?”

  “I believe so.” Maggie chewed her lip. “He promised me that when this quest is over, he will return me to Nilrem’s mountain.” She studied the man before her. His bright blue eyes raised an ache in her chest. They vividly reminded her of the summer sky over Ocean City. “I don’t—do not—remember how I came to be on Nilrem’s mountain, but in here,” she tapped her chest, “I know that if I am ever to find my way home, I have to start there. Nilrem and Kered believe in these omens—my appearance at the conjunction and this pendant.” She lifted the heavy weight of the necklace and slid it down into the neckline of the shirt to hide it again. “I am not arguing the point—”

  “One does not argue with Kered,” Vad interrupted.

  “You can say that again!” Maggie grinned.

  “One does not argue with Kered,” he repeated, his face lighting with a radiant smile showing straight white teeth.

  They laughed together and Maggie sensed they had just shared something important. They were bonded in an instant from the understanding of a mutual friend, perhaps of a man who was more than a friend.

  “As I was saying, I am not arguing the point that my role in Ker’s quest is important, but I have to go home.” She looked about at the empty landscape shrouded in purple shadows and then up at the four moons scattered now in the night sky. “I don’t know this place.”

  Vad touched her knee, briefly, lightly. “Both Kered and I know this need for home. Nilrem found us, you know, wandering Hart Fell. He took us to Leoh. Had not Kered borne the sign…well, life might have been different. But Leoh took Kered as his own, and fostered me.” He looked at his sleeping friend. “Kered is as a brother to me.”

  “He said as much.”

  “Aye. I am surprised he shared it with you. Most often, Kered shelters himself from the scrutiny of others.”

  “He only said Leoh had adopted him. I sensed it was a subject closed to discussion.”

  Vad nodded and looked at Kered. “Our parents were never found. We were but children and could not account for ourselves. There are those who would make an evil of that lack of knowledge and prevent Kered from taking his rightful place, no matter the sign he wears. He has always needed to fight twice as hard, be doubly strong, more valiant, more worthy, as a result of his origins.”

  “I see.” Maggie pulled the cloak closer about her neck. The light breeze was rising to a wicked bite. If she had a watch she could time this wind change, for it happened each night with predictability. She looked longingly at Kered’s warm body.

  “You look upon him as a lover does,” Vad said.

  “We’re—we are not lovers.” She felt the rush of blood to her face. Was she so transparent?

  “By the sword, your skin is changing again!” Vad reached out to touch her, then hesitated and withdrew. He physically edged away from her.

  “Do I offend you in some way? I know I need a bath—”

  “No, no. It is just—” Vad looked at Kered. “He would not like me to touch you.”

  “You should be worried about whether I like it!” Anger spiked through her, then died just as quickly at the stricken look on Vad’s face.

  “I beg forgiveness.” He leaned forward. By doing so, the fire painted shadows on his face, defined his high cheekbones and chiseled mouth. “I cannot bear to have him doubt me. ‘Tis why I draw away.” Then he smiled. “You do need a bath, though, as does he.”

  “Why would he doubt you?”

  “This face. This damnable face,” Vad snarled. “‘Tis a wicked curse. I had hoped at one time that battle might scar me, ease the burden, but even on the field, men run. No one fights me, lest they wound one of the god’s angels. I am a pariah.”

  The vehemence of his response took her by surprise. “You don’t—do not—believe that?”

  “Aye. And now, Kered.”

  “Kered?”

  “Aye, Kered. Now he looks upon me with the same loathing.”

  “I do not understand.” She looked in confusion from Vad to Kered.

  He leaned closer. “Kered was the one man who did not slay me with his jealousy. Until today.”

  “Jealousy? Why would he be jealous of you?” She leaned closer. Their heads almost touched as they whispered.

  “In my younger days, I was often indiscreet. The women, they…” He cleared his throat. “Suffice to say, I have had no difficulty attracting whatever female I wish to my bed. Kered is the one who taught me that ‘twas wrong to take such advantage. Yet it amused him. Most men do not wish me for a friend in fear that their lifemates or sisters or daughters will want me.” He sighed. “Kered has always treated me as a brother. Never shunned me. Until now. I saw it in his eyes, heard it in his voice. He has finally found a woman he wishes to possess. He thinks I will steal away your affections. These damnable looks!” He drew the blade sheathed at his waist and stabbed its point into the dirt at his feet. “Would that I could scar this face.”

  Maggie reached for Vad’s hand.

  He snatched it back. “Do not touch me, or he will think you want me.”

  “No, he will not. He doesn’t even like me.”

  “He has never looked at me like the others—until today. Now, he is just like everyone else—jealous. It can only mean he cares a great deal for you. For his sake, for the sake of our friendship, you must make me a promise. No matter how this face and form of mine should draw you, you will resist.”

  Maggie gasped, then choked, then ducked her head so she wouldn’t offend him by laughing. “I promise,” she said solemnly, raising her hand in the Girl Scout salute. “I will resist with all my m
ight.”

  They sat in uneasy silence for a few moments, then Vad cleared his throat to speak. “Kered has much on his mind. It is important we not add to his burdens.”

  “Is there something troubling him—beyond the quest, that is?”

  “Samoht. The two have been rivals for years and on many levels.” Vad glanced in Kered’s direction and then lowered his voice. “You know of his betrothal?”

  “Not really.” Maggie felt a quick pang of jealousy. “I only know of someone named Einalem.”

  “Ah, the fair Einalem.” Vad’s words didn’t go with his sneer. Even Vad’s sneers were alluring.

  Maggie shook her head. Gwen would never believe that this man was real.

  “Tell me of the fair Einalem,” she urged.

  “How come you to know of her?’’ Vad asked.

  “I overheard Ker and Nilrem, but I’d like to hear about her from you.”

  “Einalem and Kered have known each other since they were children. Her ancestral line descends from the great Ruhtra, as does Leon’s. Without those ties, a life-mating would not have been considered between them. Kered was not pleased when first her name was proposed. The council often makes these decrees without thought for those involved.”

  “Did he love her?” Maggie twisted a strand of her hair about her finger, trying not to let an edge of jealousy creep into her voice.

  “Love? Poet’s words. I suppose Kered felt for her as one would a sister. We all learned at Nilrem’s knee, as did the other children of the council members. Our companions were the same. Her brother, Samoht—”

  “Samoht!” Maggie sat up straighter in dismay. “I had no idea.”

  “Aye. You can see how her betrothal to Kered would anger Samoht. It would bring their families into play whenever they were at cross-purposes.”

  “Go on,” Maggie urged, leaning forward into the cocoon of the fire’s warmth. “Why didn’t she accept Ker? How do you feel about that?”

  “One question at a time. I believe Einalem’s rejection was at her father’s behest. The treaties gave much power to Kered. Her father and Samoht probably decided it made him too formidable a foe should Leoh die.”