Kel’Ratan’s voice woke me yet again.
“Ly’Tana!”
“Set her down here.”
Whatever twin held me knelt down gingerly in the sand, and set me into his crossed legs. He still held me close, his dark hair falling over my eyes. His chin brushed the top of my sore head. I heard the others’ steps through the sand as they gathered in a loose circle about me. Tuatha whined, low.
“Ly’Tana, honey.” I felt her hand gently brush my hair from my face. “I’m so sorry.”
To hear Arianne’s voice roused me more than Raine’s vision or Kel’Ratan’s voice. Her voice sounded soft, yet strong, capable of command and also of love. While I wanted to reject her, too, for she caused this, I liked hearing her voice. I yearned for it. I stirred out of my boy’s arms, peering up through an eye that wandered. It focused, lost focus, rediscovered it, on her sweet pale face and wealth of black hair. “Hey, little cat,” I mumbled.
I heard her returning smile. “Hey, my sister. How you doing?”
“Oh,” I breathed. “Not so good.”
“That’s all right. We’ll get you fixed up here directly.”
“Oh, fine.” I sank back down into the twin’s strong arms, shutting my eyes. A long sleep sounded so tantalizingly wonderful.
When her hand touched my brow, a heat wave coursed through me. Similar to Rygel’s healing magic, yet not. I knew I wasn’t healed of my injuries, but somehow my mind cleared within a fleet instant. I knew I lay within the boundaries of one of the twins’ arms. My pains receded enough that I roused myself and looked about me, even with one eye. Strength returned with a rush.
What had she done?
I sat up, seizing her hand with my own. Gazing into her grey-blue depths, I asked the impossible question: “How?”
“I don’t know.” She half-turned away from me, her hand within mine limp. Her skin looked pale, her mouth drawn down, her hand in mine trembling. Nephrotiti, no. She gave me strength at the expense of her own. Kel’Ratan, not Rygel, caught her as she sagged to the ground. “You needed strength – I just concentrated –“
“Dammit.” I struggled upright, fighting the strong arms that held me, fighting the pain that still coursed its hot way through my veins, my nerve endings. The damage from Rygel’s fists and boots were still there. I simply coped with them better.
“What did she do?” Kel’Ratan asked, bewildered, cradling her tiny body. “She doesn’t have magic.”
“This is all my fault,” Arianne sobbed against his tunic. “He was suspicious. The lieutenant. I had to do it. He would have followed.”
“Let’s play the blame game later, all right?” I said, pain-induced sweat tracking down my cheek, mixing with my blood. I wiped it with the back of my hand, seeing the smear against my skin.
“This is our fault, too,” Rannon muttered angrily from somewhere behind me. “We stood by like idiots, letting him do it.”
“We’d no choice,” Yuri said.
“We stood by and did nothing, but a whelp not even old enough to be weaned saves her life. Is this a messed-up world or what?”
Surprised, I glanced up and found them all standing about us, in a circle, looking down with various expressions of misery. Like Alun, Tor’s face streamed tears. He gripped his bow hard enough that his knuckles showed white.
“I’m sorry, Your Highness,” he whispered. “I didn’t know what to do.”
“I did,” Alun snarled, his face a mask of rage, grief and pain. “I’d have knocked him on his ass before he could hit her twice. But I didn’t.”
“Had you done so,” Kel’Ratan said softly, wearily, his own tears wetting his thick bristling mustache. “They’d have gotten suspicious. We’d be forced to fight them. Not all of us would have survived.”
“Better I die than to see her abused by a lunatic,” Witraz snarled.
Kel’Ratan cupped my unharmed cheek with the hand not holding Arianne, gazing deep into my eyes, his own filled with pain, with grief. “Ly’Tana. That was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to face. To stand by and not interfere. I swore a blood oath to protect you. I am foresworn, now. I don’t beg for your forgiveness. Only your understanding. We dared not stop him.”
“I thought he’d stop,” Yuras confessed, his honest blue eyes agonized. “I didn’t think he’d go on. But he did.”
“It happened so fast,” Yuri said. “I was so stunned. I couldn’t believe – “
“Something’s wrong with him.”
Arianne lifted her head from Kel’Ratan’s chest to take my hand again. “Something took hold of him. I felt it. But I couldn’t stop it.”
“He’s a drug-crazed madman,” Witraz muttered. “That’s what took hold of him.”
Arianne shook her head, her tears falling in a steady stream. Her lovely mouth worked, but no words of protest emerged.
“There’s something wrong,” Corwyn said.
I started, turning my head to find him at my shoulder, next to Witraz, gazing down at me. Like the others, his craggy face filled with dark anger, and his mouth bowed down in grief. His red and silver mustache slicked with his saliva, he turned his face slightly away to eye someone out of my line of sight. I remembered Corwyn openly watching Rygel only this morning, sensing something amiss even then.
“He lost his bloody mind, that’s what’s wrong,” Witraz growled. “If we can’t kill him, let’s at least chase him out into the desert. Let him die out there.”
“No,” Arianne moaned. “It’s not his fault. He’d never – not in his right mind -”
I remembered the physical sensation deep within me when Rygel snapped, losing all control. Could something have been truly wrong? Something we missed?
Heads suddenly turned. Fingers tickled sword hilts as my warriors stepped aside, opening a path. Angry mutters and growled threats heralded Rygel’s stumble into the circle. My heart clenched at the sight of him. My warrior instincts slid my hand toward my knives without my permission. I once trusted this man, not only with my life, but with the lives of my people and my griffin. Could I ever trust him again?
Caked with dirt and dust, he walked an unsteady gait toward me. His once fine clothes now filthy, his wheaten hair no longer appeared yellow, but grey. It fell in loose tangles around his neck and collar where it wasn’t plastered to his face by sweat.
The sweat, or perhaps even tears, lay clean tracks down his dust-smudged cheeks. His eyes, the amber cat’s eyes that stared into mine like the lamps that lit up hell itself, were lowered, downcast. Did he not dare look me in the face?
He dropped to his knees, his hands clasped behind him as though someone had tied his hands. His head bowed.
“Your Highness.” His voice, soft, pleading, thick with strong emotion, carried to me on the light breeze. “I – I – don’t know what happened.”
“Stupid cur,” Witraz snarled, jumping past me and seizing a handful of Rygel’s hair. He yanked Rygel’s head back. “You nearly kicked her to death, that’s what happened.”
Rygel shut his eyes, as though hoping Witraz would make excellent use of his dagger and cut his throat. Thus sparing him the humility of an apology, I thought uncharitably.
“I won’t demean you by begging for your forgiveness,” Rygel went on, his throat still bared to anyone who might want to test his steel. “What I’ve done deserves no forgiveness. But I do beg for the opportunity to redeem myself in your eyes.”
Witraz’s hand dropped from Rygel’s hair in disgust. “We’ll see how long your redemption keeps you alive once Prince Raine gets wind of this.”
“Raine already knows,” I murmured.
Rygel’s eyes snapped back to mine, wide with panic. Arianne lifted not just her head from Kel’Ratan’s support, but her entire body rose from him. Kel’Ratan himself stared at me in shock.
“How in the bloody name of hell can he know?” he demanded.
I flipped my hand, in too much pain, dizziness and nausea to try to explain how I dream of him every ni
ght, of how we spoke while I drifted into unconsciousness. “Just trust me for it. He knows.”
“This is getting weirder by the moment,” Kel’Ratan muttered.
“At least he can undo what he did,” Rannon growled. “And heal her.”
Rygel’s arm extended toward me.
This time I didn’t stop my hand from whipping out my dagger. “Touch me and it’ll be the last thing you do this side of hell.”
Rygel dropped his arm and his head, tears coursing down his cheeks. He wilted, his broad shoulder slumped, onto his haunches. “I swear by all I hold sacred – “
“You don’t hold anything sacred, fool,” Alun snapped, his fists clenched as though to prevent them from striking him.
“Please, all of you,” Arianne cried, standing up, her brocade gown dusty, the dirt turning to mud where I splashed her with the water. Long strands of her midnight hair escaped from the finely braided net I had woven. “Let him speak. Let him explain.”
“I expect,” I said, “you haven’t yet forgiven me the sin of being born female.”
At my words, Rygel covered his filthy face with his even filthier hands.
“Should you ever encounter the woman who made you this way,” I went on, my voice soft. “I pity her.”
His entire body shook. He never took his hands from his face, though his voice sounded as though he wept. “I heard a voice in my head,” he mumbled. “All night, all morning. A voice that took over my mind, my will.”
“We all know what it means to hear voices,” Witraz sneered. “You’ve done lost your bleeding mind.”
I frowned slightly. Didn’t Raine hear Darius’ voice in his head for weeks? Elder also spoke to Rygel, directing him to where Brutal held Raine and me captive. Through magic, I now heard Bar’s voice in my head.
“That’s different,” Bar commented.
I ignored him. I saw and spoke to Raine in my sleep. And did I not hear a voice scream ‘Fire Vixen’ in my head when Rygel sought to kill me with his boots and his fists?
“I tried to resist,” Rygel sobbed. “I couldn’t. It called me by name, said the Kel’Hallan bitch must die. Over and over until I thought I was going mad. I kept trying to shove it out of my head, but it got harsher, more demanding.”
I glanced up.
Now my boys eyed one another uneasily rather than scowl down at Rygel in anger and hate. Corwyn folded his arms over his chest, watching Rygel closely, as though trying to see through him. Yuri and Yuras bent their blonde heads close together, whispering, watching Rygel sidelong. Tor wiped his tears from his face with his arm, and returned his arrow to its quiver.
Witraz, Rannon and Alun still glared dangerously, but their fingers made the sign to ward off evil, half-hidden behind their backs.
“I’d no control over my own mind,” Rygel went on miserably.
What could I say to that?
Kel’Ratan watched me, his blue eyes softer, his mustache smooth for once. “Well, Ly’Tana?”
I looked to the only one who could possibly know the truth here.
When my eyes fell on him, Shardon stepped forward, walking through the opening my boys made in the circle. He stopped behind Rygel, his silver mane sheltering Rygel under its great lengths. However, his great liquid eyes were on me.
“I’ll neither defend him,” Shardon said quietly. “Nor will I condemn him.”
“That’s hardly helpful,” Witraz muttered.
Shardon ignored him as though he hadn’t spoken. “I do know he wasn’t himself. His mind and his will were in great turmoil. From what, exactly, I can’t say.”
Rygel sat up a bit straighter, his face rising at Shardon’s words. “I must pay for this crime,” he said. “Or I’ll die trying.”
“Bugger it,” Alun snapped. “We can never trust him again. I say we send him into the desert. Let him find his redemption there.”
Tears flowed anew down Rygel’s dirty cheeks, but his blood-shot eyes met mine squarely. He smiled, the cracked, heart-broken smile of a dead man. “I entreat you, my queen. I beg you, have mercy. Don’t send me from your side. Should you command it of me, I’ll go. I’ll wander the desert until it takes me. I’ll eat no food nor drink any water and I’ll die there, my soul broken.”
“And we should care why?” Rannon asked his tone polite, inquiring.
“You only want to stay near her,” Witraz growled, his chin jerking toward Arianne.
Rygel’s eyes never left mine. “I love Arianne with all my heart and all my soul. But I haven’t wronged her as I’ve wronged you. I’d give her up if it meant your forgiveness. And break my heart in the process.”
Surprisingly, this admission didn’t upset Arianne by much. Tears flowed down her pale cheeks, but she beamed at Rygel, her glorious eyes shining. My head hurt far too much for me to figure that one out.
My pain didn’t allow much for judging him fairly. My heart realized he could be telling the truth: that something overcame him, controlled him, and used him. Yet, my injured gut, my bleeding face, my aching head wanted as far away from him as possible. How can I ever look at him without loathing? Talk to him without my hackles rising? How could I be near him without a weapon in my hand?
My nausea returned, sweat springing out over my face and neck. Arianne’s offered strength wearing quickly away. I saw only through my partially opened right eye. Can I travel in this condition? Without his healing, I’d be days mending, unable to ride. We dared not remain here, despite this hiding place, until I healed.
“Give him a second chance,” Shardon said softly.
I looked to Corwyn. He only shrugged. Witraz frowned and shook his head. Rannon half-turned away, pursing his lips. Alun said nothing, only stared back at me unhelpfully.
“Bar?”
“Why are you asking me? You know I want to kill him.”
“Because maybe we’re both wrong.”
I expected a sharp retort. What I got was silence.
“Bar?”
“All right, dammit,” his voice snapped. “I’m willing to admit that maybe I was hasty in my demand for his blood. But what if we’re not? What if he’s fooling us all?”
I stared at the top of Rygel’s head, for he bowed it once more, awaiting my judgment. Why did it always come down to me? I once condemned a man, a friend, a man who claimed to love me. I sentenced him to death for his crimes and watched, dry-eyed as befits the heir to the throne, while he was executed. My heart cried aloud as I stonily watched him hang. Now, here again, fate placed me again in the position of both judge and executioner. Was this the role the gods ordained for rulers? I wished, suddenly, that I could renounce all claims to royalty and the throne of my homeland. I don’t, ever again, want to judge someone I knew and loved. Let better men than me make such judgments.
Inwardly I shook my head and called myself a fool. Such wishes were for children. I was an adult, and the heir to my father’s throne. Whether I wanted it or not, whether I liked it or not, the decision fell to me.
I decided to speak aloud in answer to Bar’s question for the benefit of not only Rygel but of the others as well.
“He will live,” I said.
Arianne smiled, her teeth gleaming in the sunlight, her hands coming together before her small bosom and clasping. Shardon turned his head, hiding his eyes behind the heavy fall of his forelock. My boys, Witraz, Rannon, Alun, Yuri and Yuras, the twins, gave no hint my decision went against their individual codes of honor and conduct. Corwyn merely nodded, his blue eyes flicking away from me. Tor breathed a deep sigh, as though relieved.
Kel’Ratan alone met my eyes. We, he and I, always seemed to argue more than talk. We seldom agreed on anything. We spoke to each other as we might our most hated enemies. Yet, above all that posturing, we understood each other best. He was more than my best friend, more than the brother I never had, more than the man I hoped one day to marry. He was me.
He was me in a man’s body.
We understood each other perfectly.
At this, Rygel wilted again. Arianne opened her mouth, and just as quickly slammed it shut.
“You’ve your second chance,” I said, my voice dropping though I didn’t intend it to. “I hope, for your sake, you use it well. For there won’t come a third.
“You’ll be watched. Not just by my boys, but from Bar and from the wolves. Should you make the slightest mistake….”
I paused, willing him to look up.
He did. He looked deep into my eyes.
“You will die.”
He nodded slowly, a single slow bob of his chin. “I’ll earn your trust, Your Highness.
“It’s hardly trust I’m concerned with.”
His voice firmed. “I’ll devote my life to making amends. To wipe the slate clean. I’ll not fail you again.”
“I hope so. I’d certainly hate to see Raine execute his own brother.”
Rygel blanched.
“You know as well as anyone he’d not see a traitor live,” I said. “Even you.”
Rygel nodded, wiping the tears, dirt and sweat from his face with his arm. He looked so frail, so vulnerable, so utterly defenseless, compassion leaked back into my heart. I tried to will it away, but the crushing pain and roiling in my gut played havoc with my willpower.
Realization slowly dawned in the aching mess I called my brain. Never once did he attempt to fight back, with magic or with steel, when Corwyn attacked. My warriors left him alone as they circled about me, their vulnerable backs to him. He could have blasted us with magic, or mounted Shardon and run. We would never have caught him, not in a thousand years.
A very hard question popped into my aching head. Would a traitor crawl back into the midst of his enemies and bend the knee to the one he betrayed? He offered his throat to the knife and never begged for mercy. Well aware of the hostility and the vengeance my boys craved, Rygel surrendered to both. I forced myself to ask that most important question: why?
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