“Kill him,” Ly’Tana finished.
Rygel raised his eyes skyward. “I am sooo unappreciated.”
His cheeks gaunt, dark hollows under his blue eyes, Kel’Ratan eyed Ly’Tana with humor. Shirtless, his broad shoulders wrapped in a blanket, he jerked his chin at Rygel. “Not very gracious to kill him after he just saved my hide.”
Arianne didn’t smile, but walked sedately to stand beside Rygel. Shy, she nestled under his arm, her hands delving across his slender waist. Rygel wrapped her close to his chest, his head bowed low over her shoulder. His blonde mane hid all but his widening grin.
“I don’t care,” Ly’Tana replied, following Arianne’s example and wrapping her arms about Kel’Ratan’s neck. “I thought you were dead.”
Dropping the blanket to the grass, he hugged her close and shut his eyes. “A few minutes longer—” he said, his voice low. “—I would be. I almost left you.”
“Where the bloody hell have you been?” I asked. “You said you’d heal him here.”
Rygel raised his head, swiping his wild mane from his eyes. Keeping his arm snugly around Arianne’s shoulders, he eyed me sidelong. “Uh, no, I didn’t.”
Ly’Tana half-turned, her arm around her cousin’s naked waist, and rested her head on his shoulder. Kel’Ratan clasped her tightly, his pale skin haggard and drawn. Healed and alive, he’d still need plenty of rest to recover fully.
“Then where—”
“I took Kel’Ratan to one of my estates.”
“You have estates?”
Exasperated, he scowled at me. “I may be illegitimate, but I am of the blood royal. I owned them when I was prince, and my half-brother never took them from me.”
“Does that mean you’re rich?” Tor asked, brown eyes wide.
For a moment, Rygel’s face went blank. “I suppose I am.”
“So why there and not here?” I asked.
“I needed help,” Rygel admitted. “I have a friend, also a healer. He’s worked with me many times. No offense, my prince, but you don’t have the skills Brynn does. Kel’Ratan, well, he challenged every bit of healing knowledge I own.”
“Then why have you been gone so long?” Ly’Tana demanded. “We were worried sick.”
“Sorry, Princess,” Rygel said, with more kindness than I thought he possessed. “We both needed sleep. You know how I get after a healing and Kel’Ratan—”
Rygel half-glanced at his patient. “Let’s just say we dragged him back from the brink. He slept almost twenty four hours straight.”
Corwyn jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Your timing is impeccable.”
Rygel glanced up and past him to the oncoming storm, nodding with a deeply fetched sigh. “The Wrath of Usa’a’mah. Just what we need.”
“Uh, oh,” muttered Kel’Ratan. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
Ly’Tana tossed her head and released her grip on him. “You’re soooo superstitious.”
“You kill Usa’a’mah’s High Priest and now a storm called the Wrath of Usa’a’mah is about to descend on us. What’s so superstitious about that?”
Predictably, she snorted. “He should be glad I killed that weasel,” she snapped. “Theodoric was nobody’s good example of a priest. Even Usa’a’mah must be sick of his maltreatment of his worshippers.”
“Um,” I interjected with a cough. “Can we worry about us and not what the god of war is thinking about? We need to start making some plans to ride it out.”
“Even if Usa’a’mah is a little irritated with us, we have been blessed by Nephrotiti.”
“This blessing may yet kill us,” I answered. “If a twister from that thing hits this monastery just right, we’ll all be paying her a visit real soon.”
“If we’re in divine trouble,” Kel’Ratan mused, his fierce blue eyes on the distant storm. “I’m guessing goddess Osimi is wroth with us for impersonating one of her priestesses.”
Ly’Tana shook her head, her white owl’s feather dancing within her red-gold tresses. “Osimi is sister to our Nephrotiti. She’d not do us harm.”
“If we’re going to have a religious discussion, we might consider that someone might want us dead.”
“The monastery will hold,” Ly’Tana replied quietly, her voice sure. “And this storm is the best that could have happened to us. Our horses need the rest and we have two invalids to consider.”
Kel’Ratan bristled. “Who’re you calling an invalid?”
“Three guesses and the first two don’t count.”
A sudden rustling in the shrubbery broke the impasse between the warring cousins. A red-brown fox burst out from the forest’s undergrowth and dashed across the grassy clearing. Following hard on its heels ran two rabbits. None of them paid us any heed at all, but disappeared into the deep woods beyond the stone monastery.
“When the rabbit hunts the fox,” Corwyn said slowly.
“The world is coming apart,” I finished.
All eyes turned up at the swift sound of wings. An eagle flew low overhead, vanishing beyond the tall treetops to the west. At the same time, a small herd of deer crashed out into the open, blinded with panic. They saw us at the last second and leaped aside, yet continued on in bounds and jumps to follow on the heels of the rabbits.
“How long, Rygel?” I asked as a falcon swooped past, pursued by a mixed flock of doves, ducks, geese, wrens and many that flew too fast for me to identify. Their shadow darkened us for a moment before the sun shone again. Yet, another buck bounded past us as still more eagles, hawks, vultures, ravens flew wingtip to wingtip with thrushes, seagulls, owls and robins. The sky filled with the thrumming of their feathers.
A rabbit ran headlong into Tor’s ankle before rebounding and scuttling around the rear of the monastery. A small family of wild pigs raced across the grass on stubby legs, a day-shy lynx scrambling beside them, its short tail clamped tight to its butt.
Predator and prey put aside their differences and fled a common enemy.
Ly’Tana, no coward, shivered as though chilled and took my hand, leaning against me. Tor rubbed his ankle, bemused, as though the rabbit hurt him and ducked into Corwyn’s shadow. Left and Right put their large bodies between Ly’Tana’s back and anything that might threaten it. Hands on sword-hilts, at parade rest, they faced front, expressionless. Their dark hair lifted under the freshening breeze and kissed their high cheekbones.
“Rygel?”
He tore his eyes from the disappearing lynx and half-shrugged. “That damn thing is approaching fast,” he said, still holding Arianne close. “I’ll guess two hours, but I think that’s generous at best.”
Ly’Tana’s green eyes widened in sudden fear. “Bar. I sent him to search—where is he?”
“He’ll see the storm, girl,” Kel’Ratan assured her, his tone more confident than I knew he felt. “He’s no fool. He’ll fly in soon, you’ll see.”
She eyed the monastery building, doubtful. “He can’t stay out in that damn storm, he’ll have to shelter. How will we get him in there?”
She was right. What do we do with Bar? I exchanged a worried glance with Kel’Ratan. “We might have to knock a hole in the wall,” he said slowly.
“What about the barn?” I asked.
Ly’Tana shook her head, her white feather dancing amid her red-gold locks. “Not enough room for him and all the horses. He’s too big, and they are too many.”
“We can widen a doorway,” I said, eying the low stone building with speculation. “It has a shale roof, so that’ll hold against the hailstones. We’ll have to break a side door, one away from the wind.”
I clapped Rygel on the shoulder. “Up for a spot of magic?”
“I thought breaking down walls was your job.”
“I’m delegating. The abbot’s personal chamber is on the lee side. It should be big enough for a griffin.”
I brushed Ly’Tana’s red-gold hair from her brow. “Call in your people. Get them here.”
“Right.”
<
br /> Ly’Tana ran toward the barn and the horses, Left and Right hard on her heels. Eyeing her tiny backside until she turned a corner out of view, I lifted Arianne’s chin. “Can you gather wood? We’re going to need as much firewood as we can, it must last us a few days.”
Arianne nodded, unsticking herself from Rygel’s side. “Yes, of course.”
“Stack it in the main hall. We’ll have to stay until the storm is over. Tor, you collect as much food as you can. Get everyone’s packs together and bring them there. After that, you haul water.”
“Haul water?” His scowl told me what he thought of that demeaning chore. “I don’t haul water.”
I seized his ear and twisted sharply. The folks in the city might easily have heard his screech of pain and protest, had they been listening. He danced on tiptoe at the end of my hand as I lifted him nearly off his feet. “You do as you’re told. Understood?”
“Yes! Leggo! Leggo, damn your eyes.”
“Too late,” Kel’Ratan interjected dryly. “His eyes are already damned.”
I released Tor. He stepped out of my reach, rubbing his ear, his face a mask of rage, fear and pain. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. He stared up at me, brown eyes swimming, yet filled with—what? Hatred? Not quite. Defiance, certainly. A steel core within that soft, street urchin’s body spoke to me of a warrior’s resolve and stared back at me amid the waterworks.
“Feed and water every horse in the barn, then fill up every bucket and container on the premises.”
He nodded, shooting me injured, sulky glances as he walked away, toward the barn. He viciously kicked a harmless rock out of his path, sending me another icy warrior’s glare over his shoulder.
“Fear me,” those eyes declared.
“I don’t think so,” I replied, shrugging him off.
I cupped Arianne’s chin. “After you gather as much wood as you can, help Tor feed the horses. Don’t overlook the mounts who are busy right now. Fill their mangers to overflowing.”
Arianne nodded once, then, lifting the hem of her gown, ran to the woodpile.
“Once the warriors return,” I went on absently, “we’ll have them help batten down the hatches. Some can kill fresh game. We’ll need the extra meat, I expect.”
Another four does, followed by their antlered buck, dashed across the monastery grounds. Kel’Ratan closed his fist as though wishing it held a bow. “Shouldn’t be too difficult, eh?” A sudden thudding of hooves caught my attention. I glanced away from the buck and his harem to witness Ly’Tana mounted bareback on her cream-colored stallion. Behind her rode her faithful guard on their blacks, never allowing her from their sight. Feeling grateful for the twins and their silent loyalty, I knew none dared harm her while they lived and guarded.
Throwing us a light wave, she galloped hard up the eastern hill, crested the top and vanished down the far side.
“That horse needs to rest,” Kel’Ratan muttered. “He didn’t look so good.”
“He’ll have time to recover,” Rygel said. “This divine bugger is going to be around for a while.”
Kel’Ratan glanced at his sharply. “What’s ‘a while’?”
Rygel half-shrugged. “All night at the very least. Let’s go break a wall.”
Breaking the wall, Rygel-style, took less time to walk there than the actual event. In typical Rygel-drama fashion, he waved his hands and muttered incantations under his breath, but I knew damn well those weren’t necessary. The abbot’s chamber held a short rock wall around his private door and a tiny garden for his herbs. The outer stones vanished under Rygel’s magic, leaving his personal chamber exposed.
I walked into a spacious room littered with broken remains of a bed, a wooden chest, religious symbols, and the torn and filthy quilt that may have covered the rotten straw mattress. Rat and mouse droppings covered the pale blue flagstone floor, and a nest of fledgling barn owls cheeped in owl panic as I walked across the room and flung open the door in the opposite wall. The mother owl beat overhead, hooting in alarm. I startled Arianne in the act of dropping an armload of wood next to the hearth in the main hall.
“Will Bar fit in here?”
Kel’Ratan strode in, thoughtfully eyeing the vaulted ceiling buttressed with dark oak, the spacious expanse of the chamber. He nodded slowly. “It might be tight,” he replied. “But if he gets lonely, he can stick his head through the door.”
“He’ll be sheltered from the worst of the wind,” Rygel said, walking in and glancing about the room. “The hail shouldn’t affect him at all. He’ll be safe enough, I expect.”
“What about the rest of us?” Kel’Ratan asked, his voice tense.
“Let’s hope your goddess is fond of you.”
“What kind of answer is that? I ask you!”
With a grin and a wink he tipped my way, Rygel strolled through the door from the abbot’s chamber into the central hall where Arianne had dumped her armload of wood and ran outside to gather more.
“My lord!”
“Ignore him,” I advised, following on Rygel’s heels. “He’s messing with your head.”
“Are you sure?” he asked from behind me.
“Um,” I replied, hesitating, glancing about. “Actually, no, I’m not.”
Grinning to myself, I listened to Kel’Ratan’s heartfelt groan and the prayer he muttered under his breath.
Dodging aside, my hand holding the monastery’s door open to allow Arianne to run into the hall with yet another armload of wood, I glanced outside into the courtyard. Rygel stood, arms akimbo, watching the storm approach, his back to me. The mass exodus continued. In an almost steady stream, deer, fox, rabbits, another solitary lynx, two more bears, slow-trundling marmots, wild hoary pigs fled Usa’a’mah’s divine temper. Above us, more birds than I might identify flew across a blue sky that slowly turned a sickly, pallid green.
Movement on the hillside caught my attention. A cream-colored horse galloped headlong down the hill, its rider flagging a wild mane of red-gold. Behind her rode her faithful twins and a young warrior on a chestnut horse. Another brawny man split apart from them to ride crossways to the north. Gathering up the warriors she spread apart to watch for enemies and kinsmen alike, I surmised.
“She’s back,” Rygel commented unnecessarily, without turning toward me.
I strode forward to stand next to him, my thumbs hooked into my swordbelt as Ly’Tana, Yuri and the twins clattered into the courtyard. Though not as exhausted as he’d been the day before, Ly’Tana’s stallion breathed more heavily and sweated far more than Yuri’s. She slid down from his bare back, taking time to rub his bony face and kiss his blowing nostrils before throwing her reins to Yuri. “Walk him out,” she ordered, “then rub him down.”
Yuri saluted, fist to chest, and snubbed her horse to his knee. Reining away, he walked both horses out in the grassy yard in a large circle. Deer, pigs and the like passed him by as though he and the horses were but a boulder in a river split in twain. He idly watched the wildlife run past his charges as though deer dodging him were as commonplace as men drinking ale.
Left and Right dismounted, yet kept their horses bound tightly to them, reins wound through tightly clenched fists.
“The rest are incoming,” Ly’Tana said quickly, her bow in her hand and her quiver bumping her hip. The diamond in her navel winked at she walked, and once again held me strangely fascinated. Under the tiny skirt, her hips made some rather interesting movements, a kind of gentle sway….
I tore my eyes from them with an effort and found her face. That didn’t help much, however. Her dusky skin and angular green eyes set off her long thick red-gold hair, tossing in the light breeze. I don’t think I drew breath in the time it took for her to cross the distance between us. The tiny leather vest and skirt revealed so much of her bronze skin and lean muscles, literally whisking the air from my lungs.
“Breathe,” Kel’Ratan murmured in my ear.
I’m trying, I thought, but couldn’t say aloud.
>
“Raine?” Ly’Tana asked, eyeing me quizzically. “You all right?”
“Uh,” I stammered, under Kel’Ratan’s chuckle. “Sure. Of course. You?”
She glanced over her shoulder. “I’d be better if I knew where Bar was.”
In the distance, across the open green field the monks kept free of forest and apple orchard, two riders approached. A third crossed from the west while a fourth galloped in from the east. The foremost rode a flashy black and white piebald. Witraz.
At the western edge of the monastery’s borders, the group clumped together with Witraz at their head. Loping at a fast pace, the warriors covered the distance in less than a flash. Reining in, they created their own firestorm of dust and broken grass flying into our faces. I coughed, waving the dust from my face as Ly’Tana wheezed and choked.
“Your Highness?” Witraz gasped, swinging down from his saddle before his piebald completed his sliding halt on the cobblestones.
“Get these mounts under cover,” Ly’Tana gasped, snorting dust from her nose. “Care for them, then get your butts back here, pronto.”
“We don’t have much time,” I added. “If Tor hasn’t already filled their buckets and mangers, do so and shut the barn up tight. Shutter all the windows and bar the doors.”
Witraz saluted and trotted away, his piebald in tow. The warriors dissolved under the freshening breeze, leading their horses into the barn at the same time they loosened girths and slipped bridles from heads. Yuri followed on their heels, dropping from his saddle and walking both his mount and a still sweating Mikk into shelter. Left and Right glanced at Ly’Tana for confirmation before they, too, dismounted and led their quiet blacks into the barn’s safety.
“All present and accounted for,” Ly’Tana reported as though to her drill sergeant. “Except for that dratted griffin.”
“You mean,” Kel’Ratan asked, his blue eyes narrowed and fasted on the distant hills. “That griffin?”
“Oh, bother,” Ly’Tana quipped, her tone light. “I have so many.”
Catch a Wolf Page 5
