WINDREAPER

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  "You expect me to believe that? After everything between the two of you, you can be with him and he with you, and not give in to the passion I know still exists?"

  "Legion," she sighed, speaking to him as she would a child, "I am your wife, your woman. I will never betray you."

  His angry shout made the chandelier rattle. "You were willing to face a death sentence to protect him when I discovered he had taken you! He is my brother, but I will gut him if he ever touches you again!"

  She put her hand on his arm. "Would you not have protected him? Do you now hate him so much that you would see him hurt for something in which he had no control?" Tears misted her lower lashes. "His life is far more important than mine."

  "Not to me!" Legion stepped closer to her and leaned into her face, his lips drawn back in rage. "Heed me well, Madame…there will be no intercourse, magic or otherwise, between the two of you! I will see to that!"

  "Legion—"

  "Rest a while. Then you return to Boreas."

  "I can not!"

  "So help me you will, if I have to tie you to the pommel!" He stomped from the room, a vein throbbing in his temple, his stomach rolling with fear and jealousy and fury.

  * * *

  Liza stood in the center of the room for a long moment. Never once in their married life had she disobeyed Legion, but she knew in her heart, this time she would. There was something far more important than her husband's ego at stake. Something far more important than her wifely vows.

  "Oh, Legion…why don't you understand?" Sitting on a delicate chair, she covered her face with her hands. "Why won't you understand?"

  Tears spilled over the rim of her fingers. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs. Her love for Legion was as bright as ever, but there was now a darkness between them—a Conar-colored darkness—threatening to destroy the love they had worked so hard to keep fresh and alive. It pained her to know she would have to hurt Legion in order to meet the obligations higher powers had already decreed.

  She knew in her heart the moment he came into the room—even before he touched her shoulder, she felt him. Lifting her head, she looked into his tired, melancholy eyes. Seeing the dark circles beneath the deep blue orbs made her heart ache. He was so thin, pale, she thought with dismay. His hair was limp, lusterless, unkempt as though he had recently raked his fingers through the golden mass to make himself presentable. But to her, he was the most handsome man who had ever lived, and his worried face was as dear to her as the air she breathed.

  "You heard?" she asked, her voice soft and whispery.

  He nodded and hunkered beside her.

  His nearness made her heart thud painfully. "He doesn't understand how it has to be between us, Milord."

  Taking her hands in his, he raised them to his lips, kissing her fingers. "He's angry right now, Liza. He'll listen to reason when the time comes."

  Liza was shocked at how weak and hoarse voice. She felt the tremors in his hands. Withdrawing one of her own from his light grip, she laid it on his cheek, caressing the scarred flesh. "You are well, Milord?"

  "I'm well enough."

  His reaction to her touch hurt her. She could see the effort it was costing him not to respond to that touch. His need was there for anyone to see and yet she knew he would do nothing to satisfy it. A quivering smile formed on her lips. "I was worried about you."

  He brought up his hand and covered hers as it rested on his cheek. He turned his lips into her palm, kissing the flesh. "There was no need, Milady."

  "The Conar I knew would have never done such a thing."

  He looked down. "The Conar you knew is long gone."

  "I don't believe that." Her hand tightened on his cheek. "He may be hiding beneath the darkness in his eyes, but he is still there."

  He looked up. "What is left of him still loves you, Milady."

  Liza's eyes misted and she removed her hand from him. She twined her fingers together and laid her hands in her lap, then looked away from the naked hunger ravaging his handsome face.

  "Liza, I am sorry. I should not have said that."

  She shook her head. "It will always be so with us, Conar. You know that." Her voice broke. "Legion knows that."

  "I never intended to hurt you. That night—"

  "What was done, was done by a stranger, a man controlled by a drug. I knew when you took me you had no idea whose body it was you touched."

  He flinched. "It was not the first time I have abused you so."

  Liza refrained from touching him again, although her palms itched to feel his flesh. Her heart ached to take him in her arms and wipe away the misery lurking in his face. "Is that why you did what you did?"

  "My lust could not be controlled, Liza. When I was taking—"

  "That isn't what I meant. I was speaking of what you did afterward." She watched his head lower with what she knew was intense shame. She automatically reached out to lay her palm on his bent head, but stopped, knowing if she did, she would unleash emotions in the both of them that would be hard to quell. Instead, angry that she could not touch this man with anything bordering on friendship, her words were harsher than she intended. "Nothing is so bad that you have to die for it."

  "I have much to apologize to you for, Elizabeth."

  "Conar…"

  He shook his head. "All these many months, the terrible things I have said to you, the petty cruelties—I can make no excuse for them." He looked across the room. "I can not ask you to forgive me, but I can ask you to try to understand." His voice broke and he got up, striding as far away from her as the room would allow.

  Liza bowed her head, wanting desperately to go to him. Wanting to take him in her arms, to kiss him, to feel the touch of his body against hers. She ached with the need of wanting him, loving him still, desiring the lover in him, missing the friend. She knew it was a madness in her soul she would always feel for this man, a god-given desire that would never be sated. She looked up at him as he stood beside the blazing hearth. His back was to her, but she would always know how he felt, how his face looked when he was upset, as he was now. "I have understood, Conar. There is nothing to forgive you for. In the sight of the gods, we are still husband and wife."

  "Little good it does us." His voice was hard, full of regret and anguish.

  She got up and walked to him, wanting nothing more than to put her hand on his shoulder, to comfort him, to comfort herself. But she dared not. "I have something for you."

  He staggered a bit as he turned to face her. When he saw her concern, he held up his hand. "I'm all right."

  "Are you sure? You look so pale."

  He smiled, the gentle, teasing smile she knew all too well, which had always been intended to reassure her. "Been out of the sunshine for a while."

  Her eyes held his, assessing, measuring, assuring herself that he was, if not well, at least mending. She could tell nothing from his bland expression.

  "I am fine, Liza," he repeated.

  "And would not tell me otherwise if you weren't."

  His smile turned boyish. "What is it you have?"

  "You were always good at changing the subject, Conar!"

  She pulled a long, intricately looped gold chain from within the folds of her bodice. What had appeared to be intertwining loops, was instead two separate chains. Each held a tapered, teardrop pendant. "I had this minted the day you left Boreas." She held one of the chains out to him.

  * * *

  Conar looked at the pendant, then lifted his gaze to hers, searching, trying to understand. He reached out to take the chain, and as his hand touched her fingers and the chain slipped into his fist, a shock went through his entire body, stunning him. He blinked rapidly and stared at the pool of gold in his palm.

  "Do you know what it is you hold, Milord?" she asked.

  He felt the warmth of her body still on the pendant, but he felt something more, something tangible, powerful, all-consuming. His body throbbed with the feeling flooding through him. His nerve-endings sang,
pulsed, sent a quiver of immense strength through him. He closed his hand around the pendant, gripped it hard, felt the precious metal cutting into his scarred palm. The pressure soared up his arm and settled in his heart. "My marriage bracelet," he whispered in awe.

  "Aye." She let out a breath. "I knew the moment you touched it you would know what it had been."

  He drew his brows together. "But how? Where?"

  A sad smile crossed her face. "Hern found it somewhere and hid it." A little laugh, small and touching, came from her trembling mouth. "He had hidden it only a few feet from where I had hidden mine."

  Sudden overwhelming knowledge penetrated the sadness of remembering his old friend. "In the grotto, wasn't it?"

  She nodded. "I felt it that night. The power returning, only I didn't know what it was."

  He scowled. "That night, you saw me the way I truly am, didn't you?"

  "Aye. I saw you as the Dark Overlord."

  He cringed away from that knowledge, knowing what terror the sight of his red-glistening, viper-like eyes must have caused her.

  "It doesn't matter," she hastened to say. "I don't fear you because of it."

  "I never meant to hurt you, Liza," he said, his voice filled with guilt and shame.

  "I know." She smiled at him through her tears.

  Conar looked away from her lovely face. "I can feel tremendous power in this necklace."

  "I had my bracelet and yours melted down, then formed into these two pendants. Your familiar resides now alongside mine, they have mated at last, their dual natures blending. That is the source of the power you are feeling. Now that those powers are combined, there is nothing we can not do."

  He opened his fist and stared at the pendant. The chain slipped over his palm and dangled against his wrist.

  "Put it on, Conar."

  When he slipped the chain over his head, when the teardrop-shaped amulet settled over his heart, his entire body throbbed with the talisman's immense force. He smiled at her. "We are one again, Lady."

  * * *

  Liza felt as though she would burst into wracking sobs that would destroy her. The hope in his voice had been there, although she knew he had not heard it. She had to stop that hope from blossoming. "I tried to make Legion understand about the force of our powers. He would not."

  He turned away. "He sees this with the eyes of a jealous husband, sees me with the eyes of a rival. There is nothing he can do to stop what will happen, Milady. He knows that, and he is afraid." He shook his head. "If you and I are ever destined to reunite, Legion will lose you, and he's not going to do so without a fight."

  Her heart slammed painfully against her ribs. "Do you think the gods would do such a thing?"

  He looked over his shoulder at her. "Give you back to me?"

  She nodded.

  "They might. I doubt it, but they might."

  She stared at his dear face and wanted to scream at the hopelessness of their situation. Even with the ravaged flesh of his left cheek toward her, she thought him the most good-looking man ever to stride upon the earth and she knew she would always love him, would always want to be with him, consequences be damned.

  Here was the man she had loved and lost. Here was the husband who had given her children and pleasure and laughter and more exasperation than any other living being. Here was the lover who had made her a woman, his woman, who had made her whole, who had fought an entire kingdom to keep her at his side. Here was the one man among millions who, with a smile, could turn her knees to water, her body to one giant blush of desire, and with his scathing tongue, transform her into a mindless virago intent on scratching the smirk from his handsome face. Here was a man women fought for, men died for, enemies plotted to destroy, and yet, looking at him as she was now, she could still see the same grinning boy who had taken on a trio of robbers with a careless charm that boggled the mind.

  He had been her all.

  Now, he was no longer hers.

  "Don't," he warned, as if sensing her pain, perhaps feeling it himself.

  "You were my beloved. Heart of my heart, soul of my soul. Even though we may never be together in the way we both want, neither will we ever be apart."

  * * *

  Conar's resolve shattered. He reached out for her, wanting her, needing her, craving her. But she backed away, turning to flee both the room and the temptation lurking there.

  "No," she sobbed as she left. "We can't!"

  Conar wanted to run after her, to claim her as his own again, and damn the entire world, his brother, and anyone else who dared to come between them. He had seen her great love for him. He had felt her sorrow as he felt his own, and he was torn. One part of him longed for her despite all the obstacles in their way, while the other part of him remembered the man who had held him as he cried in pain. Had sang in his godawful voice songs of their childhood. Who had cleaned his body and soothed his ache.

  He owed that man every loyalty there was.

  He turned toward the window and smashed his doubled fist into the paneled wall.

  He didn't feel the pain in his hand.

  The pain was in his heart.

  Chapter 33

  * * *

  The evening meal in the great hall of Ivor Keep was missing one diner.

  Legion, as was his right as owner of the keep, sat at the head of the table with Liza by his side. Jah-Ma-El sat across from her, Brelan to Jah-Ma-El's left. The others—Teal, Roget, Shalu, Sentian, Marsh, Bent, Storm, and Thom—were ranged down the table's sides with Corbin and Regan at the far end, Corbin facing his surrogate father, Legion A'Lex.

  Conar had stayed in his room, telling Legion he was not yet ready to sit through the rather elaborate meal the cook and her helpers had prepared. He hadn't fooled Legion with his excuse any more than he had fooled the others. It was obvious to even the slowest among them that Conar would have felt uncomfortable dining with his brother and Liza.

  Brelan held up his wineglass. "To the downfall of Kaileel Tohre!"

  The others chimed in, their glasses raised.

  "Conar asked me to get in touch with the rest of the force," Roget said as he put down his glass. "He wanted them all here."

  "Why?" Legion asked, his attention on his wife. He was furious at her for not returning to Boreas when he had demanded it. Now, he was determined she left at first light.

  "I believe he needs us all together so we may begin the final plans," Brelan answered. "And he wants Elizabeth to hear what he has planned, to meet the men who will be carrying out his orders."

  Legion took a quick gulp of wine, then glowered at Brelan. "I see no need for Liza to get involved."

  "We're going to need her, Legion," Jah-Ma-El said. "That was always understood."

  "Not by me!" Legion snapped, taking another drink of wine.

  * * *

  As she listened to the men talking about the coming confrontation, Liza sat quietly, playing with the stem of her wineglass. Her mind was on the man she knew was thinking of her while he ate his meal upstairs. She could feel his thoughts as she knew he could feel hers. It was like a gentle caress across her soul, encouraging, reassuring. When she sighed, Legion's head snapped her way. Guiltily she looked at him. Viewing the anger in his eyes, she realized with a pang that he had guessed where her thoughts resided.

  "You look tired, lady," he bit out, his hot stare raking her flushed face. "Perhaps we should go to bed." A hint of challenge threaded his words.

  Liza had avoided him all day, not ready to do battle over his brother. She had bided her time, hoping he had cooled off, hoping he had seen a glimmer of reason. But from the look he gave her now, she knew he had not.

  "The boys—" she began, but his hard tone overrode her.

  "Can be seen to by the servants."

  Her gaze swung to Brelan, took in his worried look, then returned to her husband. She was tired, but she knew he would afford her no rest this night. He wanted to talk, to argue; she could see it in his face. "Perhaps I should stay
a while longer with you gentlemen. I would—"

  Legion gripped the table edge. "Perhaps you should go to our room, Madame!"

  Liza realized the others knew what was happening between her and her husband. She could feel their sympathy, but she also knew she would get no help, not even from Brelan.

  Rising, she motioned the men to remain seated. "I bid you gentlemen a good eve."

  Legion pushed back his chair. "I believe I, too, will say good night."

  * * *

  Once upstairs, Legion locked the door. Anger beat a hard tattoo in his neck, and his teeth were clenched so tightly, his jaw began to ache.

  He had not missed the sidelong glance Liza had given the stairs leading up to the tower where Conar slept. Nor did he now miss the slight tremor in her hands as she clutched them in front of her.

  "Is it really bed you are seeking, husband?" she asked.

  "You know what I want."

  "Aye. You want to argue and I do not. You have had your say and I have had mine. Nothing has changed. What is to be, will be." She sat on a cushioned bench and took off her slippers.

  "I meant what I said. You are to stay away from him! There is no two ways about it!" Her tired sigh infuriated him, and he glowered at her. "I have no intention of allowing you to betray me with my brother!" He viciously tugged his shirt from his breeches. "You're going back to Boreas first thing in the morning!"

  Liza stood and began taking the pins from her hair, laying them on the dressing table. Her hands noticeably trembled. "I have told you why I must stay." She pulled up her skirts and unhooked her silk stockings from the garters. Putting her foot on the dressing table bench, she unrolled the silk stockings and laid them on the table. "Why are you being so unreasonable?"

  With a savage snap, he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor, ignoring her cluck of annoyance. He put up a hand and rubbed the heavy furring on his chest, glaring at her. She let her skirts drop and turned her back to him so he could undo the buttons of her gown.