Love Never-Ending

by Anny Cook

  Bish’s eyes fluttered closed as he dozed off until the import of Dai’s words hit him. Abruptly, wide awake, he stared at Dai in shock. “What? Mind speech?”

  “Exactly.” Dai nodded decisively. “That’s evidence of an attachment.”

  “Shit. And then she bit me…”

  “Since it is possible that will influence your future plans, I will explain the new information from Talking Wall. In the case of past bondings, the blood sacrifice was the woman’s virginity.”

  “Well, I think that Samara’s flat out of luck on that point.” Bishop’s dry comment didn’t hide his embarrassment at admitting his own firsthand knowledge. “What does the Talking Wall propose as a substitute?”

  “A tiny cut in the kzusha at the time of bonding.”

  The silence in the small room was so loud it echoed in Bish’s ears. His first reaction was an immediate repudiation of the entire idea. Pain. Blood. No! And then it struck him that his reaction was cowardly at best. Every woman at sometime in her life faced the pain—and blood—when she lost her virginity. And men might beat their chests and feel macho because their mate was a virgin but the truth was that most were not that impressed with the actual sacrifice. Most were too interested in shoving their cocks in their woman’s pussy to understand or value her gift. If Samara and he decided to bond, it was a small sacrifice on his part that would be required.

  “That’s it?” he asked cautiously, wanting to make sure that he clearly understood what Dai had said.

  “That is all. The cut is made at the same time the palms are slashed. From the translation, only a few drops of blood are required.”

  “I’ll have to think about this.”

  “Don’t wait too long. It is possible that Samara could begin schalzina,” Dai pointed out softly. Abruptly, he stood up and carried the chair back to its place across the room. “I must go. In the morning, I’ll be returning to Lost Market.”

  Something nagged in the back of Bishop’s mind. Something that he’d said earlier. Then it came to Bish. “You said that Hawke left Arturo in Sunrise. I don’t recall him passing through the village here. I’m sure that someone would have asked him for news.”

  “Hawke has vanished on Sanctuary Hill.” Dai announced it as calmly as though he was discussing the weather.

  “Why aren’t you worried?”

  Frowning, Dai stared at Bishop’s face for a while, then replied, “I don’t know. Merlyn and Jade and I all had the same dream. Hawke was seated on a beautiful rug, leaning against the belly of a purple and turquoise drang. He was smiling and content in the company of the drang as though he had found his heart’s home.”

  “And from that dream you concluded that he was safe?”

  “It does sound foolish, doesn’t it?” Dai smiled at him a little ruefully. “When you say it like that, we sound naïve. All I can tell you is that we don’t sense any danger for him. And Arano had the same dream,” he added thoughtfully. “Only in his dream, there were drangs all around Hawke, guarding him.”

  “Drangs only appear when it’s time to train the high clan chief.”

  Dai took a deep breath and then agreed. “That is so, according to legend.”

  Remembering the implacable young warrior who banished him but joined him in his banishment to protect him, Bish suddenly grinned. “Why am I not surprised?”

  * * * * *

  As darkness fell on the village, two very tall dark blue men crept along the side of the healer’s home avoiding the occasional patches of light from the windows. When they reached the back door, the small porch was dark and the door was open a bare crack. Rapidly, they entered and softly shut the door.

  “Dai?” one of them whispered.

  “I am here, Lazarus. You have news?”

  “We have news.”

  Lark drifted into the kitchen past the visitors. “I prepared food for you. If you will sit down, I’ll bring it to you.”

  Dai and the men sat at the table while Lark set a platter of thick sandwiches of roast woolie and bowls of steamed vegetables on the table. After making sure that the dark curtains were completely covering the windows, she twisted the light stone on the table so that it gave off a faint glow. “Water or apple cider?” she inquired.

  Shadrach’s white teeth glimmered in the near darkness. “Water for me. Thank you for the food, Lark. We were starving.”

  “Water for me too,” Laz mumbled before helping himself to a sandwich.

  “What did you find out?” Dai demanded impatiently.

  “Jiph Vitek. Younger brother of Gil Vitek.” Shade took a bite and chewed while he mentally organized the information he and his brother had collected. “He’s been away from Bell’s Corner so long that I forgot about him. He walked away from the village when he had seventeen years. Since then he’s been drifting around the valley, mostly living on his own out in the woods.”

  “Why did he try to kill Bish?” Dai rubbed his head wearily. “Because he’s new to the valley? Why? If anyone, I would suspect that he would go after Samara.”

  Laz drank half his glass of water. “Maybe he did.”

  “Did what?”

  “Went after Samara. From the news we picked up, that was quite a drama last eight-day. What would hurt Samara worse than Bishop’s death?”

  Dai froze as he considered Laz’s conclusions. “That makes an awful kind of sense. Very nasty. Very twisted. If it’s the truth, then he is insane.”

  Lark brought tea for Dai and herself to the table and sat down. “Up to this point, he hasn’t impressed me with his sanity,” she agreed. “But Bishop has been out in the open for several moons here, working with Gar. He would have been an easy target anytime.”

  “I think he tried once before. Almost certainly, it was him. We thought someone was trying to attack Tyger when he was at the retreat but perhaps Jiph simply chose the wrong room.”

  “Then why wait so long?” Shade queried in a dissatisfied tone. He didn’t like messy emotional mysteries. Give him a murder centered on greed or anger but revenge murders…Shade shuddered. Revenge murders gave him the willies.

  “Because Samara wasn’t there to watch Bishop die.”

  The moment that Lark pointed it out, the men accepted it for the truth. It fitted the circumstances, both motive and opportunity.

  “Did you find any trace of his tracks?” Dai asked gloomily.

  “No. He’s an accomplished woodsman. The trackers are out searching but I don’t think we will find him except by sheer accident.” Shade looked at his sandwich with a jaundiced eye. “What I would give a lot to know is who he will go after next. It would be helpful to be able to know who we should guard.”

  “Bishop,” Laz replied curtly. “After Samara demonstrated her interest so publicly, Jiph won’t alter his target unless she appears to change her interest. Even then, it would take something drastic for him to believe it. Serving as Bishop’s semtorn was clear proof of the high regard she has for him.”

  “Then make sure that you guard him carefully.” Dai sipped his tea while he totted up all the chores he had to deal with in the next couple of days. It was enough to make a middle-aged seventy-year-old man tired. Arano had warned him that there would be much strife and chaos in the valley this year. Surely, it would be over soon? He stood and stretched wearily before pushing in his chair. “I am going to bed. Tomorrow I go back to Lost Market. I leave this problem in your skilled hands.”

  “Sleep well.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Invasion

  Two mornings later, Samara rushed up the trail to Lost Market. The first frost of the season painted the leaves with icy fingers. Dancer and the villagers had a wonderful surprise planned for Eppie and Samara didn’t want to miss it. Huffing cool smoky puffs of breath as she hurried across the wide green behind the barter keeper’s dome, she saw that she was just in time. Dancer was leading a blindfolded Eppie across the green from the Llewellyn domes.

  When they arrived in front of the newes
t dome in Lost Market, all was quiet as the villagers didn’t want to spoil the surprise. Finally, Dancer removed the blindfold as everyone shouted, “Surprise!”

  To no one’s surprise, tears welled up in Eppie’s eyes as she stood staring in amazement at the first greenhouse in the valley. The lowest third of the pale yellow building was solid wall but the upper two-thirds were studded with large round panels of glass in alternating rows.

  Through the windows, Samara could see rows and rows of neatly labeled plants lining the shelves that curved around the dome. She hoped that some of those plants were from the seeds that Dancer had brought into the valley. When Dancer gathered his weeping bond mate into his arms and led her inside, everyone else went back to their chores, satisfied with a job well done.

  Samara made her way to the bakery, intent on hot fresh rolls to have with her tea for breakfast at the school while she waited for her students. It was still early, so hopefully she would have time to go over the student records while she ate.

  She had just finished perusing the last of the student records when the children arrived, babbling and shivering in the frosty morning air. It didn’t take long for them to settle down though as she began the reading lessons. The exhilaration from teaching her students again filled her with unexpected joy. They finished the reading lesson and began an impromptu spelling contest. Llynx was spelling when Dai opened the back door and slipped into the room, with his finger over his lips.

  “Put your shawls and sheras on,” he commanded softly. “Then line up here at the door as quietly as possible.”

  “What’s wrong?” Samara asked with a worried frown.

  “Invasion. We’re going into the woods to hide.”

  The children hastily pulled on woolie sheras or wrapped heavy woolie shawls around themselves. When Dai opened the back door, Tyger handed him his punchbow and moved along the side of the building while Llyon softly brought him up to date. “Go through the woods past the pottery dome and then take the children across the river to the training hall. Arano said that they came in through the cave at bonding circle five so the other side of the river will be safer.”

  While Dai, Jonas and Mali guarded their backs Samara led the children across the narrow grassy lawn directly into the woods. Once they reached the shadowy shelter of the trees, she assigned Llynx to take the lead. The children in Lost Market had grown up with the ever-present possibility of invasion from outside the valley. No one knew how the passages worked. And because they had no idea what triggered them, every person in the village was taught exactly what to do if the worst ever happened.

  Now as Llynx led them through the trees, the children moved silently with the older children helping the younger ones. Samara brought up the tail end, helping the stragglers. Dai hung back, making sure that no one followed them. When they reached the bridge, Llynx sent them across, one by one, to hide in the training hall. Samara escorted the smallest children while Llynx kept watch. At last everyone was settled in the safety of the training hall. Dai guarded the door. Llynx and the oldest boys kept watch from the windows. And then they waited.

  It seemed like a long time before Jonas and Mali came to escort the children back to the school but it was only a little while past lunch. At the school parents were waiting to anxiously claim their children. Dai made sure that the Llewellyns made it safely home.

  It was late afternoon before all the invaders were captured and the full story of the adventure was told. Samara vibrated with rage when she found out that the leader of the invaders was none other than Merlyn and Bishop’s father, the same man who had endangered her own parents until they discovered the sanctuary of the valley.

  Her father took time to point out the silver linings in the dark cloud of that day’s invasion. Fremont Llewellyn was captured and executed by the judgment seat. He would never pose a threat to the valley again. And in his obsession to reach the valley, he used Nikolas Alexander and Tracer Devereaux, thus returning two more men to the family fold. Robyn, Tracer’s bond mate, was quietly ecstatic to finally have him safely within reach.

  Sitting in her parent’s kitchen the next evening, Samara marveled at how swiftly life changed. Only the morning before she had blithely left her dome on the way to the village. A day later, there were eight new inhabitants in the valley and the primary enemy of the valley was dead. As she watched her parents, she realized for the very first time how very afraid they were all the time she was growing up. The tension on their faces was gone, leaving them looking years younger than they were.

  What a terrible, evil man Bishop’s father must have been.

  * * * * *

  As Bishop slowly recovered in Dai’s Hamlet, he gradually came to terms with the obsessed man his father had become. He tried to recall when he first knew that something was not quite right about his father. Was it when Baron and Jade disappeared? Or was it before then? Maybe even back when Free found out that Nikolas Alexander was really his son?

  The changes were so gradual, so slow that somehow no one noticed until it was too late. Bishop wondered if the power his father garnered was part of it. Didn’t they say that absolute power corrupted absolutely? Fremont Llewellyn came as close to absolute power as any man Bishop could think of.

  He pondered the puzzle of the book. Right before Merlyn left his father at the summit of the judgment seat, he asked him why the valley was so important. Fremont had replied in riddles about a book and a secret. From his answer, it seemed that he believed the book was in the valley. What book? What secret could possibly be so important that his father felt justified in murder and kidnapping? Uneasily, he wondered what new mayhem would ensue if the book was discovered.

  By the third eight-day after he was stabbed, Bish was up, taking slow walks around the village each day accompanied by one of his guards. One day they walked past a crumbling stone building. “What do you suppose that used to be?”

  Lazarus flicked a glance over the ruins. The roof was caving in and the walls were mostly held together by tenacious blue ivy. “That used to be the carpenter’s shop until old Gabe Diaz died. His mate went up to Rebaccah’s Promise to live with her son, Paul. Gabe didn’t have an apprentice and nobody else wanted the shop.”

  Bish moved closer and peered in the filthy window. “Are there tools in there?”

  “I don’t know.” Laz shrugged. “If you want to look, I’ll pry the door open.”

  “No one will mind?” Bish frowned in thought as he calculated the cost of tools in the valley. Would Gabe’s mate be willing to sell him the tools?

  “Nah.” Laz gripped the door and yanked. It came apart in a shower of dust and splinters. After kicking the remaining shards out of the way with a sturdy booted foot, Laz cautiously poked his head through the opening. “I think it’s safe enough if you want to go in. The roof isn’t going to last much longer so if you really want the tools, we’ll need to get some of the village men to remove them.” He studied the walls with a critical eye. “Actually, this should be torn down before it falls on someone.”

  They entered the building, waving away the dusty smoky air. Bish poked at the linual sheets strewn across a large table sitting in the center of the room. A puff of dislodged dust rose in a cloud, setting off a sneezing attack. When he could breathe, he moved from cabinet to table to cabinet, opening drawers and fingering well-oiled tools. A beautifully crafted set of gouges and chisels had him salivating with covetous greed. Another cabinet held intricately finished molds and templates. Clearly, the dead carpenter had valued his tools.

  “What are you doing?”

  Bishop turned toward the door, smiling when he identified Llyon. “Lazarus assured me that no one would mind if I looked at the tools. Who do I have to talk to about buying them?”

  “What do you want to buy?” Tyger demanded from outside.

  “Tools!” Bishop called out. “I’ve decided to be a carpenter!”

  Tyger peeked over Llyon’s shoulder. “Go talk to the barter keeper. He’ll give
you a fair price and keep track of the credits. But if you plan to use this building, you have your work cut out for you.”

  “No…I don’t plan to stay in Dai’s Hamlet. If Samara decides to forgive me and take me as a bond mate, then we’ll live wherever she wants to live.” Bish dusted off his hands. “I’ll go talk to Marcus Lyle immediately. I want to arrange to have the tools moved before they are damaged.”

  Lazarus nodded. “I agree. Such craftsmanship shouldn’t be housed in this shack. Shadrach will go with you while I keep an eye on your treasure. Perhaps I can arrange more suitable storage.”

  Ly and Ty backed out of his way as Bishop headed for the door. He stepped out into the cool breezy fall afternoon, nearly barreling into a blond, curly-haired stranger. “Sorry!”

  “No problem,” the stranger replied huskily. “You’re looking pretty good for being nearly dead. A little blue—but pretty good, overall.”

  Bish staggered back, flinging out a hand to the stone wall to catch himself. “Nik? Nikolas?”

  “The same.” A small sad smile played across his lips. “Dad dragged Tracer and me into the valley with him.” He tilted his chin at the twins. “They tell you about Dad?”

  “Yeah. But they didn’t mention you.” He scowled at Llyon. “Why not?”

  Llyon gave him back stare for stare. “Mama thought it would be better to wait until you were feeling better. Too many shocks in a row.”

  “She thought wrong. I don’t know how to tell you this, Llyon, but your mama is not always correct.”

  “Just most of the time,” Tyger retorted.

  Bish impulsively grabbed Nikolas in a tight bear hug. “Damn, I missed you! I visited you in that damn hospital and talked and talked…”

  “I know.” Nikolas trembled, nearly weeping for all the time lost.

  “Where did you go?” Bishop demanded fiercely. “I searched everywhere for you!”

  “I know. Listen, I’ll explain everything later. Ty and Ly have to leave if they’re going to reach Sunrise tonight.”