A Bird of Sorrow

by Shea Godfrey

  “I do not know majik very well, but she is warm, and she is breathing…and she is—”

  Sorrow will bring you through, unto the gifts of the Great Loom.

  “Somewhere else,” Jessa said aloud in sudden understanding. Radha, what have I done? By all that’s holy, she walks the Loom!

  Bentley’s hands were firm upon her upper arms as she rushed to get up, her dizziness so sudden and overwhelming that she tipped into his arms as he sat upon the edge of the divan. She pushed against him but her strength was gone. She could destroy them all, though, and she knew it, for her majik stirred with rage, the runes piling up as the spells stacked one upon the other.

  Neela’s words rose up and slammed through her thoughts. My love, do what you must and come back to me…

  Jessa’s hands fisted in Bentley’s shirt, and she held on, the world spinning beneath her. If this is you, Neela, and you are trying to take what is mine, I swear by the Vhaelin that I shall burn along our thread until I find you and destroy the Great Loom itself with my vengeance. Not even the wind shall find what I leave behind of your black hearted soul.

  In her thoughts, Jessa watched as witchlight traveled along Bentley’s arm, and she tried to pull it back as it snaked about his bicep, hissing like blue lighting onto his shoulder.

  “It’s all right,” he told her quietly, unafraid. “Don’t. You took a terrible blow to the head, Jessa.” Bentley’s voice was so kind that it almost made everything worse. “Please don’t.”

  Jessa opened her eyes, her face resting against his arm as she took in her surroundings. The fire burned full and bright in the hearth, and the lamps were lit throughout both rooms. Arkady stood beside the chair next to the hearth, and he looked frightened, although she had never seen him wear such an expression before. She saw Tobe and Etienne beyond, near the bed, and her eyes ached the farther away she tried to focus. “Where is my Hinsa?”

  She felt the purr within her bones, even as she heard it, Hinsa suddenly beside them both. The panther pushed her wide face along Bentley’s arm until her mouth moved against Jessa’s chin, her teeth there for a heartbeat and then gone. “Did I hurt you, Biscuit?” she asked in a whisper.

  Hinsa’s purr deepened.

  “She seems fine, though it took some time to convince her that no one would hurt you.”

  Jessa closed her eyes, her stomach trembling in a dangerous manner. “She saved my life.”

  “I beg you, my Lady Jessa”—Bentley pulled her close—“do not scare us so again.”

  She breathed in his scent, noting that it was clean and safe and not unlike Owen’s. She felt her tears come, and she let them fall as Bentley held her in his arms, Jessa hiding her face against his chest as her tenuous strength was swept away.

  “You must rest,” Bentley whispered.

  “Take me to her, Bentley, please. I would lie next to my love, one way or the other.”

  Bentley shifted and, with only some minor discomfort as her head throbbed, he gathered her up and stood in an easy movement. Hinsa moved at once and pushed against his legs. Her staccato growl echoed in her throat and Bentley stilled at the sudden warning.

  “Hinsa.” Arkady’s voice was gentle. “We mean her no harm.”

  Jessa could feel the tension in Bentley’s body and he tightened his hold, though only a little. “Hinsa,” she said softly. “It’s all right.”

  Hinsa’s growl changed and she felt Bentley ease as Hinsa stepped away.

  “What has happened to Darry?” Arkady’s question was tentative, as if he was afraid of the answer she might give him.

  “She’s been wounded by a spell,” Bentley answered, and Jessa was grateful to him. His answer was perhaps not that far from the truth. “We will have to wait and see.”

  Jessa felt the warmth of Arkady’s touch against her arm, and then she felt the ache of her wound, Hinsa’s claw marks wrapped in the coolness of damp herbs beneath the bandage on her forearm. “She’ll make it through, my Lady. She would never leave you.”

  Bentley walked to the bed, and as he entered the adjoining room, Jessa turned her face against his chest. “The light by the bed,” Bentley said. “Put it out. Pull back the covers, Etienne, and bring Lady Abagail again, and Bette.”

  “I’ve made willow bark and ginger tea.” Tobe’s voice was quiet and soothing.

  The light beyond Jessa’s eyelids dimmed, and as Bentley moved, she felt as though she were falling a very great distance. When she landed, the softness of the bed and the warmth of Darry’s body welcomed her. She lay against her lover and held her, letting her face rest against the crook of Darry’s neck. Darry’s scent was faint but it was there, and the beat of her pulse was strong and filled with life. Jessa’s right arm came to rest upon Darry’s chest, her fingertips sitting lightly against the smooth hollow at the base of Darry’s throat.

  Thank you, sweet Bentley…“My friend.”

  “You’re welcome,” Bentley whispered as he pulled the blankets over them both.

  He stepped back from the bed and waited, though for what he didn’t know. His dearest friend was trapped within a sleep that had pulled her from the world, and though he didn’t know much of majik, just as he had said, he knew that much. All of the things except the smallest portion of her essence were gone, and he could feel their absence. Beside her, the woman who had become as dear to him as his own sisters were, perhaps more so for the easy bargain they had struck those long months ago, was wounded deeply and destined to fall should her love not rise again.

  He ran a hand over his face and smoothed down his mustache as Arkady set a steady hand upon his shoulder. “It has begun,” Bentley whispered and met the warmth of his friend’s gaze. “Our idyll here is at an end, and the wheels of the world are turning once more. If we’re not already on the move, they will grind us into the road.”

  “I’ll speak with Master Kenna right away. We’ll be ready, Bentley. Whatever happens, we’re always ready.”

  “Good. Send Lucas and Matthias to Ballentrae. Have them buy whatever steel and armor they can find, all of it, and tell them to have a care. There is something coming, I can feel it.”

  Arkady smiled, though his eyes were clear and sharp. “Do you have your mother’s gift of sight, my brother?”

  Bentley let out a breath of laughter. His beloved mother, the Great Lady Jolie of the House of Greeves, had once been a celebrated seer, her gifts much sought after among the Bloods of Arravan. “Well, I certainly did not inherent her legs.”

  Arkady stepped closer to him. “Your mother’s legs are legend.”

  “It’s true,” Bentley responded and then narrowed his eyes. “Careful.”

  Arkady’s hand moved in Bentley’s hair for a moment in a gentle show of affection and then he was on his way.

  Tobe worked by the hearth where he mixed his herbs and checked the kettle, and Bentley stepped to the nearest chair. He pulled it close to the bed and sat down, leaning forward and bracing his forearms against his knees.

  That fateful night before the Blackwood Throne itself, he had seen something he had never thought to see. He had seen hatred and deception of the highest order, and the betrayal of family. He had even seen the betrayal of love. He had seen Malcolm press his boot against Darry’s wound and smile as he waited for her to die, mocking her as her life slipped away. Bentley had heard his words, promising death and even rape. He had seen the look of love in Marteen’s eyes, and then fear and disbelief as Malcolm had pulled the blade across his throat for the slip of a tongue.

  He could not help but think of Aidan McKenna again, since that night, and wonder upon what it was that she had refused to tell him. Her fear of Malcolm had been a wild thing, and now, having seen him at his worst, Bentley wondered what else might have happened.

  Bentley hung his head and stared at the pattern of the rug between his boots.

  He had understood as the blood poured from Marteen’s throat that where he needed to be, and where he suddenly wanted to be, were two v
ery different places.

  He had run to her without question, taking the back hallways and the servants’ stairs. He had dodged the guards and risked everything. When he saw the sliver of light beneath her door, his heart had nearly burst with need. He could still feel it, an ache in his chest that was quiet most days, and yet always brutal in the dead of night. He closed his eyes and his memories spun backward in time as he relived it yet again, for it was all he really had of her.

  He knocked lightly and tried to slow his heart, his eyes fierce upon the light beneath her door, waiting for her shadow, for any sign of her presence. It was taking years from his life and he could feel them slipping away.

  “Who is there?”

  “It’s Bentley, I, ah, I mean…” Bentley cringed. “Lord Greeves, it’s Lord Greeves, my lady.”

  The key turned quickly, and before he could apologize, the door was opened and Lady Nina Llewellyn stood before him.

  His eyes took her in before he could speak—he couldn’t help it. The pale night shift she wore clung to her body, and as he followed the lovely flow of silk downward, he saw her nipples harden and rise beneath the delicate material.

  He felt the coolness of her hand against his chest, and he looked up as she yanked upon his tunic and pulled him into her bedchamber. He slid and stumbled and then stood upright, turning as smoothly as he could as she locked the door and spun around to face him.

  Her hair was undone and it fell about her shoulders in turning waves of reddish blond, the darker tones a match to the freckles that covered her face. She must have just brushed it, because it was full and filled with a life all its own, still reaching out for the brush. Her green eyes were wide and surprised, though she smiled. “Are you bloody well mad, Bentley?”

  Bentley stepped forward and looked down at her.

  She did not back away or flinch from his advance, but her eyes widened somewhat and her voice softened. “If the guards catch you here, I mean, they’re everywhere now, and you…” She licked her lips and swallowed and it drew his eyes to her mouth. “I’m not sure what my uncle will do to you, but it won’t be good.”

  He stared at her, and he knew right then and there that he would spend the rest of his life chasing down each and every blessed freckle on her lovely body. They were glorious, and he had never seen their like, scattered across the softness of her skin like dusky jewels.

  Her expression changed and her eyes filled with something he couldn’t name, though he liked it very much. She stepped close and took hold of his shirt. “What’s happened?”

  “You must listen to me, my Lady, please.”

  “Nina.”

  “Nina, please.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Malcolm asked to meet with Darry. He sent the message by way of me, for her to meet him in the throne room.” He frowned as he remembered. “He’d been told about Darry and Jessa by then, and I knew there’d be trouble, somehow, something, but then I—”

  Nina touched his face, and his words faltered. “It’s all right,” she said with a gentle smile. “Take a breath, Bentley, please.”

  He did as he was told and his shoulders eased somewhat.

  “What has happened?” she asked in a surprisingly calm voice, her hands upon his shoulders as she looked up. “Tell me quickly.”

  “Malcolm’s meeting was a trap. They tried to kill her.”

  Nina’s expression registered her shock, but her eyes were clear. “Who did?”

  “Malcolm and Marteen,” he answered. “We were there to watch her back, Etienne and I, but it all went wrong. Marteen had a crossbow and he didn’t move until he took his shot, I couldn’t find him. His bolt took Darry in the chest…and then…”

  “What?”

  “Malcolm has killed Marteen Salish. He murdered him, right there at the foot of the bloody Blackwood Throne.”

  “Where is Darry? Is she alive?”

  “Etienne took her back to the tower. It’s the only place he could go.” He was thinking a bit more clearly now and he took her hand as he looked to the balcony. The bells rang out from the walls of the Keep, and Nina followed his gaze. Shouts lifted from within the courtyard beyond and the higher toned bells of the barracks added to the noise. The night beyond the balcony was filled with new light as he turned back to her. “I tried to bargain with him, Marteen for Darry, but—”

  Her chamber door rattled, the pounding upon the wood causing them both to jump.

  “Lady Llewellyn!”

  Nina turned with a jerk and faced the door, her back against Bentley’s body as if to shield him. “Yes? What is happening?”

  “Stay in your room, my Lady,” the guard said through the door. “Lock the door.”

  “I will!” Nina called out. “I am well. Do your duty.”

  “Thank you, my Lady. Do not leave your room.”

  “I won’t.”

  Bentley spun her about at the waist and pulled her against his body. “I lost my dagger,” he said softly. “Malcolm will have my dagger.”

  Nina lifted her hand and it was covered with blood. “Ben, please, let me see.” She took hold of his wrist and flinched a bit at the wound. Bentley watched as she examined the cut and her hair slipped forward, hiding her face. Her touch was warm and filled with care.

  Ben…

  “You must find Emmalyn, sweet Nina,” he told her and she met his eyes. “Align yourself with Emmalyn, no matter what occurs.”

  “I will, I promise.”

  “Stay away from Malcolm.” He grabbed her by the arms and pulled her close once more. “Do you hear me? Do not be alone with him, not ever. Do not confront him, do not goad him or prick at his pride. Do nothing, nothing that will put you in his path. Promise me, please.”

  “I promise.”

  “He makes his move for the Blackwood Throne. Owen must be warned, though he won’t believe it. You must find Emmalyn as soon as you can. When the guard comes for you, be ready. Have him take you to her straightaway. Nowhere else, do you hear me?”

  Nina stared at him and her eyes raced with thought.

  He gave her a gentle shake. “Malcolm has tried to kill Darry, and he has murdered his own advisor, his closest friend and ally. He boasted of forcing Jessa into his bed, with his boot upon Darry’s wounds as he did so. If Darry dies, there is no one to speak against him but a son who has fallen so far down the Greeves line, that even my father has forgotten me. Etienne is a bastard and an orphan and has no standing. Go to Emmalyn and nowhere else, do you hear me?”

  “Yes,” she answered, and he could see fear as well as reason in her deep green eyes. She understood what he had said. “I promise, Ben.”

  There was shouting in the hallway and the sound of running.

  “What is this you’re wearing?”

  Nina blinked in surprise at the question. “It’s…it’s for my wedding.” Nina’s expression was one he couldn’t quite name. “For my wedding night.”

  “Hammond Marsh.”

  “Yes,” Nina confirmed. “It’s Hammond’s favorite color.”

  Bentley took a moment despite the situation. “His favorite color is cream?”

  “Yes, I know.” Her tone was wry and somewhat amused.

  Bentley smiled. “It’s truly beautiful, my Lady, but not as beautiful as you are wearing it.”

  “My mother says I’m too fat, and too curvy for a first son.”

  Bentley stared at her. “What?”

  Nina’s right hand came up and she held his cheek. Her thumb smoothed at the end of his mustache. “That a first son with a fat wife will take a mistress.”

  Bentley responded, shocked and offended on her behalf that a mother would say such a cruel thing to her own daughter. “Is your mother…I mean, pardon me for asking, but is she weak in the head?”

  Nina smiled and it was in her voice, as well. “Yes, yes she is.”

  Bentley felt a terrible stab of panic low in his stomach. “I may never see you again.”

  “Don’t say that.
”

  “Don’t believe what they’ll say about me.”

  “I won’t.”

  “They aren’t true, the things they’ll say. They never have been.”

  “I know that.”

  “Do these glorious freckles of yours, do they, I mean…” He swallowed at the thought. “Sweet Gamar, my pretty, do you have them everywhere?”

  “Yes.”

  Bentley groaned softly and kissed her.

  Her lips were lush and warm and before he could savor their touch completely, he pulled her into his arms, opening her mouth in a hungry manner. Her tongue was sweet and her fingers tightened in his hair, her left arm suddenly strong about his shoulders. He could feel the fullness of her breasts against his chest and the strength in her body, which was in fact curvy and a dream come true for his deepest desires. She moved her lower body against his as she pulled closer and he caught at a breath, slipping from their kiss as he looked in her eyes. His hand moved upward upon the skin of her back and he realized that her nightshift was made of two flowing pieces. Her flesh was hot beneath his touch and the slickness of his blood.

  “What,” she whispered. “What is it, Ben?”

  “Don’t do it.”

  Nina held his eyes as he reached back with his right hand, searching beneath the open collar of his shirt. He grabbed the chain he wore and pulled, several of the links popping free as he broke it from around his neck. He leaned down and opened her mouth in a bold kiss that she returned with passion, her tongue needful against his own. She tasted…she tasted like nothing he had ever encountered before. She tasted like love.

  He let go and grabbed her wrist, placing his chain in her hand. The ring that bore the Greeves family crest was covered in blood, but its gold shone through in the lamplight. He closed her fingers over the ring and took a step back, holding her hand between both of his. “Remember your promise. Find Emmalyn. Do not approach Malcolm in any way. I beg you, swear it again.”

  Her eyes held a touch of fear as he let go of her hand and stepped farther away, backing toward the door. “I swear it.”

  “I would’ve asked for green,” he told her. “A green that would match your eyes.”