“Did you have to hit him so hard?” Mesiande’s disapproval was clear.
“Do you see my wall?” Sordith stated emphatically. “I mean it: Do you SEE my wall?”
“It was not as if he could help it,” Mesiande pointed out, attempting to defend Alador. “And... it is just a wall,” she added sarcastically.
Groggily Alador wondered what was wrong with the wall. He was confused as to where he was. He remembered being with Mesiande, but mixed in that were images of Flame and Aorun. The images seemed to change with each pounding stroke of pain.
“I will have to get a tapestry to cover that.” Sordith sounded totally incensed. “You said nothing in this venture about him waking up and casting spells about.”
“It wasn’t as if I knew.” Henrick sounded amused. His words were followed by a chuckle.
“Shhh, I think he is waking up.” That was Mesiande’s voice.
Alador’s eyes fluttered open, and slowly he was able to focus on Mesiande’s anxious face floating above him. “Mesi?” he whispered in confusion. She should not be where Sordith was, or Henrick, for that matter.
Mesiande smiled when he whispered her name. “Welcome back,” she said, grinning happily. “I really think you are taking advantage of all this luxury, lying in bed until all hours of the day.” Though the teasing was typical of Mesiande, she could not hide the worry in her eyes.
Alador noted that concern. He grabbed her and pulled her into his arms. When she did not resist, he buried his face in her long hair. The smell and feel of her brought his emotions tumbling out. Tears filled his eyes as he realized that she was real. She was really here. Slowly, as he held her, the realization of where ‘here’ was sank in. He pushed her back so he could look into her eyes. “I am so glad to see you,” he whispered, “but it is not safe here. It is a horrible and evil place.”
Mesiande reached out and pushed some hair out of his eyes, her touch gentle. “Henrick said if I didn’t come then you might die.”
Alador’s gaze hardened and he looked up to search for Henrick. He pulled Mesiande to the opposite side of the bed from Henrick. “Then he should have let me die.” He met Henrick’s curious look with his own animosity.
Mesiande nestled into the crook of his arm as she moved against the length of his body. “Don’t say that.”
“It is true.” Alador looked at Mesiande with genuine concern. “You are not safe here.” He kissed her forehead and pulled her tightly against him before looking at the two men in the room. “What happened?”
Sordith stepped closer to the bed. “You took on Auron, but you brought one of his men in the Blackguard. When I got word that you had fallen into his hands, you were already being tortured. I killed Aorun and was able to set you free. However, you had already withdrawn into yourself.”
“Flame attacked Keelee. I tried to stop him. Did he escape?” Alador was still trying to sort what was real and what had been a dream.
Henrick spoke from where he was with admonition in his tone. “You killed him with the dry cantrip. I told you not to do that, that it changed a man...”
“So does torture and betrayal,” Alador snapped. Alador could not hide the loss he felt as he recalled his father’s recently revealed treachery. “What of Keelee?” he asked.
“She has recovered from Aorun’s assault,” Sordith assured him.
Alador frowned. “How long have I been out?”
Mesiande stiffened beside him. “Who is Keelee?” The terse curiosity in her voice drew all three men’s attention.
Henrick and Sordith looked at each other then Alador. Alador closed his eyes as he considered how best to answer her question. His head was still pounding, so he took a moment to answer.
“In this city, some women are sold, or sell themselves, to lie in a man’s bed. Keelee was a gift from my scheming uncle. She is a very selfish and untrustworthy woman who broke my faith in her.” His bitter tones made Sordith noticeably wince.
“There is more to the story than you know, Alador,” Sordith stated.
Mesiande bit her lip as she worked to absorb his words. “So your uncle gave you this woman to share your furs?” Mesiande tentatively asked.
Alador had not opened his eyes. He was not going to lie to her. With all the lies he had been forced to utter to stay alive, he was not going to lie to the one pure thing in his life. “Yes,” he answered softly.
“Oh…” She did not move away from him but she did not ask anything else either. An awkward silence filled the room.
It hung in the air, no one wanting to touch it before Henrick finally broke the tension and silence. “So, how do you feel?”
Alador considered this question. How did he feel? “Weak… And I have an excruciating headache,” he admitted.
“Sorry,” Sordith murmured as he looked at the wall, his fingers tracking the new divots that Alador had created.
Alador followed Sordith’s fingers. There was a large section of the wall that was blackened, and there were missing chunks at the center. “I don’t understand.”
Mesiande chimed in to rescue Sordith as he looked back, seeming guilty. As Sordith opened his mouth, she swiftly interjected. “You were coming to and suddenly started throwing lightning about. Sordith knocked you on the head to stop you from hurting me.”
Alador’s eyes opened in alarm. “I… Oh by the gods, Mesiande, I’m so sorry.” He could have killed her, and the realization that he was as much a danger to her as anyone in this city was like a knife being pushed into his heart.
“May I point out that I’m just as tough as you are,” she answered saucily. “However, you were not yourself. It is okay,” she assured him. “But that is why your head hurts,” she went on drily.
Never had Alador been grateful to someone for hitting him till now. He looked at Sordith. “Thank you.”
Sordith slowly grinned. “You're welcome, but…” he drew out, “you owe me a tapestry for that wall.”
A soft chuckle emanated from Henrick, drawing Alador’s gaze. It hardened again, showing no love for his father. Alador did not want him here. Henrick’s own amusement faltered.
“By the gods, what have I done to earn that look?” Henrick asked, his eyes narrowed as he assessed his son.
“Where do I start? How about with the fact you brought Mesiande here, which puts her at risk of Luthian finding out. Let’s add to that; you knew about Luthian’s breeding program and were an active participant in it.” Alador’s pain began to fuel his accusations. He pulled Mesiande closer, bringing a gasp of surprise from her.
“Secondly.” Alador’s scathing sarcasm made even Mesiande wince. “You are out in Daezun lands on Luthian’s bidding and are as much a spy as you are a lying, conniving bastard. Lastly, you used magic on my mother to ensure you were chosen in the circle.” Alador’s last bitter accusation snapped out. “How many siblings do I really have, Father?”
Sordith’s gaze snapped to Henrick at the last question, genuine interest written on his face as he stepped sideways - almost as if he feared becoming caught in the crossfire between the two mages.
Henrick’s mouth had dropped open and his face had paled as Alador bit out each accusation. When Alador stopped, he stepped forward. “Son…” he began.
“Don’t ever call me that again,” Alador hissed.
Henrick put both hands out to his side in a placating manner. “You have been listening to Luthian. You know how he twists things.”
“Deny one of them. Deny you were sent by your brother. Deny you knew of his breeding program.” He counted them out on his fingers, holding them for Henrick to see. “I dare you to deny that you used magic the night I was conceived.” He met his father’s horrified gaze. Alador’s face was red with his anger and it only fueled the pain in his skull.
Henrick’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. He searched Alador’s face. “There is more to all of this than you know…”
Alador cut him off. “I knew you couldn’t deny it.” He force
d himself to sit up, drawing Mesiande behind him as best he could. “I will ask one last time, how many siblings do I have?”
Henrick’s hands fell to his side in defeat. “I don’t know,” he admitted softly.
“Get out! I don’t want to see you ever again.” Alador’s gaze darkened as he fought back the cold rage that he could feel threatening to consume him.
Henrick stared at him, his frustration hissing out in a long sigh. Finally, he turned on his heel and strode from the room. He slammed the door behind him so hard that some of the soot on the opposite wall drifted to the ground.
Alador closed his eyes and took deep breaths trying to calm the dragon’s anger that he could feel just beneath his own. He did not open them again till Sordith spoke.
“Is it safe for me to speak?” Sordith ventured.
Alador opened his eyes and looked at Sordith. “You're my brother, aren’t you?” The question was direct and held no accusation. “I never realized how much you and my father looked alike till I saw you standing here in the same room.”
Sordith nodded. “I believe so. However, he doesn’t know. I haven’t wanted to broach the subject, given we all thought you were dying.”
Mesiande peered around Alador to look at Sordith. “You're right, you two do look a lot alike, except for the eyes.” Her voice trembled as she placed her hand on Alador’s arm as if to soothe him.
Alador winced at that tone. He had not meant to scare her. His head hurt horribly, and he was confused. The reality of everything since he had awakened was only making it worse. He could feel the dragon seething inside him more than he ever had. It was no longer just memories; it was as if some part of the dragon was really there.
“Sordith can you leave us alone for a time?” Alador asked politely.
Sordith nodded. “If you need anything, Alador, you just have to ask. You are safe here from the upper tiers until you choose to leave.” Sordith grinned. “Thanks to you, I am Trench Lord.” He winked at Alador before turning and leaving the room in a much gentler manner than Henrick had.
Alador slowly laid back down. He felt a sense of relief as Mesiande moved back into his arms and laid her head on his chest. “There is so much to tell you,” he murmured, burying his face into her hair again.
Mesiande slowly looked up at him. “I think we should just rest awhile. We both heard many things and your head is hurt.” She reached out and tentatively touched the lump that Sordith’s blow had left. “We have all night to speak.”
Alador winced at the light touch. “I’ve missed you,” was his only answer to her suggestion and shut his eyes.
“I have missed you too. Rest now,” she stated with greater firmness. “We can talk later.” She laid her head back against his chest and splayed her hand to hold him tightly to her.
Alador mused over the things that he had learned since waking up. He reveled in the feel of his love pressed tightly to him. His hand lightly toyed with her hair as he thought. As he lay there, absorbing it all, he realized one thing was certain. Henrick had been right; he had changed.
Chapter Seven
Alador and Mesiande were in no hurry to leave the room that Sordith had assigned to them. A servant saw to what needs they both had. A meal was provided for them after they woke up. They moved the table to the windows facing the veranda; it was raining steadily outside. The sound of the falling rain was soothing as it pattered against the windows; the rhythm reminded Alador of the soft drums at home.
He found himself watching her, memorizing every small detail. The dainty way that she ate and the way her hair fell softly around her face now that it was not in braids. She looked up and when their eyes met they both smiled.
When they finished eating and were again cuddled up on the bed, Alador told her everything. He left nothing out; he even spoke of Keelee and what a bed servant was. It started as a small trickle of explanation, but the more he spoke, the faster all the fear and pain spilled out. A torrent of words and emotions cascaded over them both.
She had looked hurt at first, but as events spilled from his mouth her manner softened. She begged him to leave Silverport, to find somewhere close to the village where she could visit. He had been forced to refuse her, even though this was what he wanted most. Alador knew he had to finish the geas, or he would never have peace. He was so lost in his thoughts that he was startled when she suddenly grabbed his hand with both of her own.
“I have decided I am not going back,” Mesiande declared with an emphatic tone.
“Mesi, I have explained why you cannot stay here.” His answer was gentle. He reached up and ran his fingers down her cheek.
“Yes, yes, it is dangerous,” she mocked. She launched herself against his chest, forcing him down on the bed as she laid across him; she giggled at the look on his face. “I am not afraid of a little danger. Alador, you cannot protect me from everything,” she pointed out. “I have survived a dragon attack and worse.”
“No, but I can protect you from an obvious threat,” he countered.
“What if this uncle of yours decides to come get me from Smallbrook?” she said a bit more seriously.
His eyes closed as his face paled. “I know that is possible, but as far as I know, he isn’t aware of you.”
“Alador, you don’t have to do this alone,” she sighed. Her eyes met his with her own fear. “Let others help you.” Her voice held an edge of frustration.
“The last time I let someone help me, I was knocked on the head, and woke up in Aorun’s…”
“So, what you are saying is that I should be in fear of every man because of what Trelmar did?” she interrupted. Her soft challenge made him wince as if stabbed. Her eyes held his, the determination set in her face as she waited for his response.
Alador did not know how to respond to that. “That is different,” he defended weakly.
“No it isn’t!” She sat up, her legs on either side of him as she looked down at him. The challenge in her eyes was one he had seen a hundred times when she was determined to get her way.
“Mesi, please, I don’t wish to speak about that.” His eyes closed as he tried to force away the pain of seeing her sobbing by that river.
“Too bad!” She grabbed both sides of his face. “Look at me.” The soft command was whispered so close to his face that he could feel her soft breath across his lips.
Alador opened his eyes to gaze into hers. The love written on her face made his heart race. He reached up and touched her. For a long moment, they just stared into each other’s eyes before she finally spoke. His heart raced as she lay across his chest to hold his face still, her hands and body holding him captive.
As she began to speak, she kept her eyes locked with his. “Your father may have done some dishonorable things in the past, but he is trying to make things right now. Sordith has opened his home to you to offer you rest and protection, at risk of making your uncle angry.”
She touched his lips with her finger to keep him quiet when he opened his mouth to defend himself. “Shush. You act like you are the only one free of error.”
She sat up looking down at him, her manner tender but her tone became firm. “You yourself told me of the men you killed in the name of justice. What of their families? What of their children? How many of those men were just following orders?” There was no accusation in her tone, but the sadness that she felt filled her eyes as she laid the facts out for him.
Alador looked away from her in shame. He had never taken the time to consider the fate of those around the men he had killed. He only knew they protected a vile practice.
Mesiande firmly grabbed hid his chin and searched his gaze. “Sometimes men do what they must when it seems to be for the greater good. But the greater good for whom? I'd imagine that the children of those men would see you as the villain and not the hero.” She kissed his forehead before she continued. “Trelmar’s mother, still to this day, sees her son as faultless.” She sat up, straddling his body in a way that made him ve
ry aware of his desire for her.
“What is your point?” he whispered. He did not know how to handle her stark revelations. He felt ashamed that he had not thought of these things himself.
“My point is you won’t complete this task of yours alone. Maybe you can’t trust anyone right now with an absolute certainty,” she sadly admitted. She placed her hands on her chest as she leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Regardless, you need them. Henrick will help you. I’ve no doubt of this. If his intentions are even just to unseat his brother, he will still help you. I will help you.” She leaned down to kiss him tenderly.
“How’d you get so wise?” he whispered huskily when the gentle kiss ended.
“I have always been smarter than you,” she teased.
Alador sighed, partly because she was being stubborn and was right; but also because he knew without a doubt that the one person he was not allowing at his side was Mesiande. How was he going to get her to agree to go home?
“Mesi, you have to go home. I won’t do what I have to do if I’m worrying about you,” he pointed out.
“I can take care of myself,” she challenged. She sat up, and the hurt on her face was evident.
“You sure?” His voice became cold and hard.
“I used to shoot better than you, remember?” Her eyes narrowed as she looked down at him. He could see the anger building in her eyes and in the tension in her body as she glared down at him.
Alador moved swiftly, rolling her beneath him. He caught her hands and placed them on either side of her head as he pressed against her, one knee moving between her legs. “What about when they are inside your bow range?” His harshly whispered question brought alarm to her eyes. “Men here will not think twice of taking what they want from a Daezun. Many hold a deep hatred that fuels violence.” There was a seething hatred in his tone as he glared down at her, his mind on all the twisted things he had seen since he had come to Silverport.
“Alador... please, let me go.” Her fear was written on her face as she tried to squirm out of his grip.
Bloodmines: Cheryl Matthynssens Page 6
