Veriel's Tales: Night Warriors III

by Brenna Lyons

  He searched the whole house with no sign of her. Jörg considered waking Gawen and shaking the truth from him, but his former brother would no longer believe his intentions were honorable. Worse, Gawen would sooner die than tell Jörg anything that he believed would bring Regana to harm.

  Jörg took wing again. If there were no other way, he would use strategy. He would search for Regana, house by house, until he either found her or exhausted the entire village in his quest. In the case of the latter, Jörg would find someone who would be no loss to the village at large — and who has no personal interest in protecting Regana — and do whatever was necessary to get the information he needed, even unto death if need be.

  He searched his own house first, alternately praying that she had gone there in her grief and hoping that she was not so despondent as to do such a thing. There was no sign of Regana, but the state of his home fueled his resolve. Angered at his part in the downfall, vandals had stolen the things that were once his and burned much of the rest. The fine stone walls of his family home were blackened with the ferocity of what they had done.

  The next two houses only increased his apprehension. At the third, he hovered in shock, gripping his ghosting like a shield that would protect him from the sight before his eyes.

  Had Jörg not been disembodied, a scream of pain and loss would have rent the air around him at the sight of Regana wrapped in Pauwel of KreuzStütze’s arms. Some part of him screamed for the other man’s blood. His mate was taken by another. His prior claim was cast aside. She was Pauwel’s now. Her naked breasts brushed the other man’s chest above the fur thrown over their bodies, his to hold as Jörg could never hold them again. His mind screamed in anguish at what he was seeing, at what he had lost.

  Pauwel snapped awake and grabbed for his weapon as Jörg turned his mind back to ghosting. By the time the older man was fully awake, there was no sign of Jörg left for him to trace. Pauwel shook his head and normalized his breathing, probably believing himself awakened by a dream. He dropped his weapon back onto his belt and rubbed a hand over his eyes.

  Jörg reasoned his way out of his fury. He had left her with nothing. Worse, he had left her unmarriageable. Regana deserved the things he had promised her. She deserved to be happy, to have children and a home of her own, and to be loved. He could give her none of it now.

  Pauwel could. Pauwel chose Regana despite the way she was left. Or perhaps — he chose with no knowledge of that but accepted her still when he learned the truth. Otherwise, she would not be here in his arms but rather taken before Gawen and Thorald for judgment. No matter his feelings, Jörg had to accept that he had given up all rights to Regana that first night, and some kind gods had kept their word to protect her by giving her Pauwel in his stead.

  He watched in agony, as Pauwel bent to lay kisses over her waiting breast.

  Regana stretched and smiled, running her hands through his hair. “Waking moments,” she commented sleepily, as he licked a hardening nipple slowly.

  “You are awake,” he teased.

  “And you are beyond redemption. That’s cheating.”

  “I told you I would prove that evil streak you accuse me of,” he commented as he took her breast into his mouth.

  Regana arched beneath him and moaned in pleasure more intense than Jörg had ever seen from her. Pauwel kicked away the fur, and she was abruptly gloriously naked before his eyes.

  Jörg knew he should leave. He could not bear to watch this, but something held him fast. He watched as Pauwel played at her body, drawing her to increasing pleasure until Regana was boldly touching him in return.

  “Please, Pauwel. Don’t make me wait,” she pleaded.

  He mounted her smoothly, drawing her legs up to his hips. “Hold me to you,” he asked as he moved within her.

  Regana traced the muscles of his chest and arms as she surrendered to the sensations coursing through her. She was so different with Pauwel than she had ever been with Jörg. What he wouldn’t give to have had her like this just once.

  He watched as Pauwel took her gently, slowly despite his obvious need for her. Regana cried out in a shattering release, and Pauwel took her fast and hard while she continued to express the pleasure he was giving her, while she begged him not to stop his possession of her. Pauwel roared out his own release, and she arched to him, driving him deeper within her.

  Pauwel curled around her, laying feathery kisses over her face and body while he still lay sheathed inside her. “I love you, Regana,” he breathed. “Please, never doubt how much I love you.”

  “Never let me go. I couldn’t bear to lose you,” she replied quietly, cradling his head to her.

  Jörg knew that he could go, now. It felt as if hands released his soul. He left quickly. Jörg had no doubts that the gods wanted him to see her with Pauwel. They called him to see it and refused his bid for escape.

  But why? Was it part of his punishment or was it just one more example of how his inattention had affected Regana’s life? She certainly seemed to enjoy Pauwel’s care and solicitude much more than she had ever enjoyed Jörg’s touch.

  Had Jörg ever considered her pleasure that way? Had he ever brought her to release in those months? Had he ever taken her slowly and simply enjoyed touching her instead of taking her mindlessly? How often had he told her that he loved her?

  He cringed at the truth of it. He hadn’t taken the time he should have. He hadn’t shown Regana the attention she deserved. Jörg had never seen past his own release to hers. It had never been important to him to do so. Always, taking her and releasing himself had been at the forefront for him. Preparation was all he ever granted her, and not even that every time. He didn’t tell her he loved her — not nearly often enough.

  She deserved those things, and Pauwel could give them to her as Jörg never thought to do. Had he ever been simply a cursed warrior? The more he considered his relationship with Regana, the more Jörg believed that he must have been born a beast. Perhaps, that was why the stone had never named him. Of all of them, perhaps he deserved to be damned, lived to be damned.

  Chapter Nine

  Regana made her way along the road with lunch for herself and Pauwel in her basket. She placed her free hand on the swell of her pregnant belly, now clearly visible beneath the dress she wore, in this case a bright blue that belonged to Pauwel’s mother.

  She was honest with Emecin about when she missed her first moon time. It was the only thing Regana was honest about with the midwife and her son Landric, the village healer, but none of that was of any importance as far as delivering a baby was concerned.

  Their story had been told and retold, fleshed out over time when the occasion called for it in conversation and in their bed. Over time, they came to view such things as planning for battle and had become quite good at a sort of game banter when it was necessary.

  Pauwel learned what it was like to live the lie she and Jörg had lived. He learned about the fears and the excitement, the practicalities that he might be called upon to recount. At times, Regana could tell that what he learned, said or unsaid, sent him into a black fury, but it was never she that he was angry with. If anything, Pauwel would be all the more tender with her in the hours following something that upset him. No, she knew that his fury was directed at Jörg, and Regana couldn’t fault that feeling though she didn’t always understand what sparked Pauwel’s anger.

  So, they worked out detail after detail to protect the lie, using the truth of her relationship with Jörg as much as it was appropriate to keep confusion from setting in. Some things they changed were obvious to her. At other times, Pauwel would doggedly insist on changing a detail that made no sense to her, but Regana never questioned his reason, since he was always gripped by the fury when it happened. She supposed that what he changed was something he felt Jörg should not have done, but Regana’s understanding of Pauwel’s viewpoint was still limited by his unwillingness to upset her with his opinions when he felt it could serve no purpose to do so.
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  Regana sighed and squared her shoulders, as she spied Riberta approaching with Gerlent. It would be another session of questions and barely veiled innuendo, posturing and double meanings, she was sure.

  “Good afternoon, Regana Lady KreuzStütze,” the tall blonde called out cheerfully with a flip of her hair.

  “Good afternoon,” she replied with a strained smile.

  “You’re looking well.”

  Regana nodded her thanks.

  “My but that baby is going to be a big one.”

  It always came to that, as if Regana were even further along than she admitted to, another veiled innuendo. “Yes, he is. Emecin believes he will be as big as his father was. She attended Pauwel’s birth, you know.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  They walked in silence for a few moments.

  “There’s something I always wondered,” Gerlent noted suddenly.

  “Really? There are many things I wonder about,” Regana answered as if she were distracted. “Untangling some of the old stone lore with Gawen is one of my current interests. It’s fascinating, actually.”

  Gerlent looked at her in shock, and Regana controlled her smirk studiously.

  “I meant— May I ask you something, Lady KreuzStütze?”

  “Certainly, Gerlent! You should have said so. I am sorry. My mind was obviously elsewhere. We are working on a particular problem of a passage about the stone’s life that has me quite distracted.” Regana had been studying Kethe’s method of apology carefully. It did come in handy stalling Riberta and her friends during conversations such as this.

  “Oh. Yes—” Gerlent hesitated and looked at Riberta in confusion.

  Regana dearly loved running Riberta and her friend of the hour in circles. It was far too easy.

  “Why didn’t you go to the choosing?” Gerlent asked earnestly.

  Regana felt a sick swirl in her stomach. “I was afraid for Pauwel,” she lied. “By then, I knew I was carrying his child.”

  “I don’t understand,” the young redhead said honestly.

  “It would become obvious that I was with child very quickly. I was afraid of the backlash on Pauwel when that happened.”

  “What good would not going do?” Riberta cut in, her eyes over-bright in her predatory state.

  “I could refuse to reveal the father, and only I would be undone,” she answered simply.

  “But, what of Pauwel? Surely, you realized that he could not choose another if he was printed on you.”

  “I hadn’t thought it through. I was acting on panic,” she admitted.

  Regana certainly hadn’t thought this through. The question of why she hadn’t gone had never come up before. This was another discussion she and Pauwel would have to have in the peace of their bed.

  “How often did you see Pauwel?” Gerlent asked.

  “It varied. Sometimes, for a few nights in a row. Other times, only once or twice in a week,” she replied evenly. That was one of the details that they kept truthful and wonderfully vague.

  “He didn’t come for you every night?”

  That was a detail they changed, but Regana understood his fury that Jörg let her wander around the dark woods without a lamp without explanation.

  “Of course not. That would have been impossible to hide.”

  “What about the night the beasts were loosed?” Riberta asked suddenly.

  “No. I didn’t see Pauwel that night,” she replied. Regana had no idea where Pauwel really had been, so it was better not to lie about that.

  “Really? Old Eberhard said he saw you in the woods that night. I thought, perhaps, you had gone to see Pauwel.”

  “No. I liked to take walks in the moonlight, one of the many pleasures the beasts have stolen from me.”

  “With no light?” she asked incredulously.

  “It’s my family’s land,” Regana countered smoothly. “I’ve been walking the paths since Gawen was my keeper and I was barely out of leading strings. I don’t need a light to find my way.”

  “Eberhard said you liked to walk the woods,” she agreed smugly — too smugly. “He watched you for years, you know.”

  Regana shuddered internally at that. Eberhard always made her feel nervous. He had piercing blue eyes that seemed to follow her every move, even when she was a child and he was still leader. The fact that his small home bordered their lands had never occurred to her, and the thought of walking the woods with him so close by bothered her now that she thought about it.

  “No, I didn’t know,” she replied pensively. “Well, I suppose I should feel more comfortable with that knowledge now that I’m no longer at KlingeStütze to be watched.”

  “Many people watch you,” Riberta continued.

  “Really? I hadn’t noticed that.”

  Regana looked toward the training area and rubbed the palm of her hand over her son, willing the walk to pass faster somehow, wishing that Gawen or Pauwel — or even Wil or Ditrich would come to her rescue. Regana rarely felt this ill at ease, and she wasn’t sure why she was now. All she knew for sure was that Riberta was leading up to something very unpleasant.

  “Did you know that Eberhard and Sibold attended your birth?” Riberta asked suddenly.

  “They attended every birth after Gawen. The stone warned Sibold to watch the births. They were at your birth, too,” Regana dismissed her.

  “Every birth from Gawen’s to yours,” she corrected.

  Regana stared at her in confusion. “I don’t understand what you’re hinting at,” she admitted as she speeded her pace slightly.

  “They were waiting for something. For you, I suppose. Once you were born, they stopped looking. People have always rumored that a woman with your coloring was an omen of some sort. I’ve always wondered what they were looking for.”

  “What did Eberhard say?” she countered smoothly.

  “He wouldn’t. Isn’t that strange? He was so talkative on other subjects.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  Pauwel stepped out of the shadow of the building and smiled tentatively. Her resolve shaken somewhat, Regana ran to his arms, dropping the basket at his feet to wind her arms around his neck. Pauwel met her eyes in confusion. Without asking for an explanation, he glared at Riberta over his wife’s head. The other women bowed their heads demurely and left rapidly.

  “Thank you, Pauwel,” Regana breathed next to his shoulder, closing her eyes and relaxing into his strong arms.

  His hand massaged the tense muscles of her back. “What was that all about?” he asked.

  “More questions and innuendo,” she admitted.

  Pauwel led Regana to the trees and helped her down to the grass. He handed her a slice of meat from the basket and rubbed his hands over their baby to soothe her. “Now, tell me,” he invited as his hands ran in the enchanting circles that seemed to unknot her body instantly.

  “It started with questions about why I didn’t go to the choosing ceremony.”

  “I always wondered about that,” he teased smoothly. It was their game of banter.

  She smiled and joined the game. “I didn’t want Gawen to kill you when he learned that I carried the son you planted in me, of course.”

  He smiled at her coy look, and his eyes grew hot and hungry.

  “I thought to take the dishonor alone, but I didn’t consider that you had printed and could not choose another.”

  “Good thing I admitted it to Gawen and demanded that you marry me, wasn’t it?” Pauwel asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “The smartest, most courageous move I’ve ever seen,” Regana teased him.

  “What else did she say?” He ran one of his hands lower to tease at her woman’s curls momentarily, smiling at her blush.

  “They wanted to know how often I saw you.”

  “Ah, yes. Everyone wants to know that. It is the second most popular question around the village.”

  “After when we started seeing each other,” she noted.

  “Was that the innuendo?
”

  “Not exactly. They asked if I was with you the night the beasts were freed, which of course, I was not.”

  Pauwel furrowed his brow in confusion. “Why would they ask a question like that?”

  “They said Eberhard saw me walking in the woods that night.” She shivered, and he stopped to look at her in shock. “They said Eberhard made a habit of watching me — that many people have for my entire life.”

  “Why?”

  “Was my birth really the last Eberhard and Sibold attended?”

  “I don’t know. They told you that?”

  Regana nodded. “They also said that Eberhard won’t discuss what made mine the last, but many people — including Riberta, I might add — are convinced I’m an omen of some sort because of my coloring. And because I was the last.”

  Pauwel darkened in anger. “We’ll get to the bottom of this. I won’t stand by and let Riberta spread these lies.” His voice was controlled, but Regana could tell he was barely maintaining that control.

  “How do we know it’s a lie?” she asked quietly.

  “It is, and we will settle it today.” He kissed her gently. “Stay here and eat. I’ll join you in a moment.”

  Regana nodded as Pauwel went back to the training area. She took a hunk of bread from the basket and started eating it ravenously. Now that the sickness had passed, she found that her son demanded much in the way of food. Regana never thought it possible to eat so much and gain so little, except for the mound of her quickly-growing baby.

  Pauwel reappeared as she was liberating another slice of meat from the basket, Gawen and Wil close at his heels. The red-faced Wil bowed his head to her and turned to storm toward town. Regana groaned as she realized that he was off to offer correction to his errant sister. She only hoped his correction wouldn’t make things worse.

  Gawen dropped down next to her as she took a bite of the meat and planted a kiss on her forehead. He ran his hand over her pregnant belly with a wistful smile, but whether he was dreaming of the day when Bavin would be so big or remembering the days of Regana in Marcwi’s belly, she could not be sure.