Crystal Moon (15 page)

“Give him a reason to live, or he will die. Help him find

something to replace the use of his legs—if you can.” Laila’s

strained whisper hinted at things lost and motives found for

living. Still dressed in the same stained clothing, fresh blood and

dirt layered over old, she had a fevered, haunted look in her

red-rimmed eyes. Her loss allowed her no respite.

“Graham!” Katya’s yell pierced the unnatural silence of

the great hall. “Let me through. Where is he?”

Sianna turned aside the jumble of conflicting emotions

preceding Katya as she pushed past Laila and stumbled into

the chamber. Kyne caught her by the shoulders before she

barreled into Sianna who leaned protectively over Graham.

“Let me go! I must see him!”

Kyne held tight, blocking her view of Graham. “No, Katya.

He doesn’t want you to see him like this. Allow him that dignity.”

“Let me go to him. Please, Kyne. We parted with angry

words. I have to tell him...I’m sorry...I didn’t mean what I

said...please, I love him...I didn’t know... didn’t realize...” Her

voice trailed off into broken sobs, and her body sagged into his.

“Let her in.” Sianna covered Graham’s lower body with

the blanket. Other than his drawn and too pale face, Graham

looked unchanged. Katya needed to see him, and soon he would

need her strength. Would her love be enough to instill him with

the will to live? Sianna prayed it would. Her skill alone would

not suffice.

Kyne’s gaze met Sianna’s. At her silent nod, he loosened

his hold on Katya. Cheeks wet with tears, she stumbled forward

and sank to her knees beside the bed. Tenderly she clasped

Graham’s limp fingers.

“Graham,” she whispered. “I’m here. Don’t leave me.”

Kyne tensed as Sianna stepped away from the bed. In the

chamber’s small confines, her side pressed into his back. Her

heat and the subtle scent of herbs and wild flowers that clung

to her hair and skin distracted him from Graham and Katya.

Try as he did, even in the midst of crisis, Kyne couldn’t banish

his desire for this woman. Her tremor told him she was not

unaffected by the contact.

Since the death of his parents at DiSanti’s hand six annum

before, Kyne had fought to contain his clawing need for

vengeance. Aubin’s foul murder had released the beast lurking

in Kyne’s heart. Was he so blinded he’d condemn the innocent

along with the guilty? Was she innocent? His heart said yes.

“Katya?” Graham’s eyes flickered open. Eyes glazed and

unfocused, he stared up at Katya. “Don’t cry for me, Little

Kat. This is the end all warriors pray for. Death in battle.”

“You’re not going to die, you old fool! You can’t. Dramon

needs you. Kyne needs you. I need you.” Her voice broke on a

sob.

“Like this...I’m of no use to my country, my Rul or...to a

woman. Leave me.” With a sudden surge of strength, Graham

pulled his hand from Katya’s grasp, closed his eyes and turned

his head to the wall.

She started to grab his arm, but Sianna gripped her shoulders

and pulled her gently away. “Let him be for now.”

Like a lost child, Katya turned into Sianna’s embrace.

“He can’t die,” she wailed. “I love him! Don’t let him

die.”

“Shhh, save your strength, Katya. Graham is going to need

it. Rest now. I’ll call you when he wakes. Betha,” Sianna called.

The small, plump woman hurried forward, squeezing her

way into the already crowded chamber. Warmth flooded Kyne

as Sianna’s backside pressed more firmly against his.

“Would you take Katya to her chamber and settle her in

bed with a hot drink?” Sianna asked.

“Of course. Come along now.” Betha deftly took charge

of the subdued Katya and led her away.

Kyne felt a pang of regret as Sianna stepped away from

him.

She faced him and Lisha, who still hovered in the doorway,

and dismissed them. “Hold your meetings elsewhere and leave

me to my work.” Her tone of command brooked no argument.

Lisha stepped back. Hesitating, Kyne searched Sianna’s

face for any sign of treachery. Trust no longer came easy to

him. DiSanti’s betrayal of his family and his country had seen

to Kyne’s education. She met his gaze without flinching, her

eyes wide and innocent, her soft lips slightly parted. What choice

did he have? He wanted to trust her. He had to. For the moment.

Kyne turned and left the chamber. The door closed with a

firm thud behind him.

A small smile touched Lisha’s lips. “If love alone is enough,

perhaps your Graham will live. I came to tell you farewell.

Your healer has worked miracles with my injured men. They

are ready to leave. Allot us our share of the goods captured,

and we will be on our way.” She turned to leave.

“Where will you go? Your band is too small to challenge

DiSanti’s troops. With what we captured there is more than

enough to feed you and your men through the winter. Stay. Our

cause is better served if we join forces.”

A small tremor shook Lisha’s shoulders, but he couldn’t

see her face or eyes.

“My men may make their own choice. But there is much

you don’t know of me. I....”

“Your past is of no concern. You fight DiSanti. That is

enough. Join me. I have need of leaders and warriors. Lend

your arm to freeing our country from an oppressive tyrant.”

She faced him, her lips curled in a pensive smile. “Your

plea is eloquent. I will stay. For now. I only pray you never

regret your offer,” she added softly.

Kyne stretched out his sword arm. After a moment’s

hesitation, Lisha stepped forward and clasped his arm below

the elbow, as he grasped hers.

“Live hard. Die well, Warrior.”

“Live well. Die hard,” she spoke the response which bonded

them as comrades in arms.

The touch of her strong fingers sent a jolt through Kyne.

For a brief instant he felt her soul-deep torment as if it were his

own.

Or perhaps it was.

EIGHT

Her back to the door, Sianna took a deep breath to slow

her racing heart. She must be calm. Graham needed her

strength. With another breath, she pushed away from the door.

Three steps brought her to his side.

Blood now saturated the blanket covering him. Thick and

salty, the smell permeated the air of the small room. He groaned

as she lifted the blanket and began cutting away his trousers.

“Are you awake?”

Graham’s eyes opened and met hers. “Do not trouble

yourself with me. I am beyond hope. Let me die with my dignity

intact.”

“Katya is right. You are an old fool.” She let disdain creep

into her voice. “And a coward as well.”

Surprise warred with anger in his eyes. He stirred against

the bed, his fists clenching. “I am not afraid to die.”

“Dying is easy. It takes courage to live. Instead you roll

over and surrender at the first sign of trouble.” In a quick move

she stripped the bloody tatters of material off his legs. A small

cloth preserved his modesty as she cleaned the area around

the gaping wound. Blood seeped through the ragged opening,

the bone white against crimson. Though the amount of blood

looked prodigious, no major vessels were cut. He would not

bleed to death.

A grimace crossed his features, but he made no move. “I

will not be a burden. A legless man is half a man.”

“You deceive only yourself. Kyne and Katya have need of

more than your body. They need your heart and mind. Don’t

abandon them. If you won’t fight for yourself, will you fight for

them?”

Eyes closed, he did not answer.

She leaned close and placed her palm against his rough

cheek. Heat scorched her hand. “Don’t shut out those who

love you. If you allow me I can help you, but you must want to

live. You must be strong and brave enough to face the pain. If

you surrender to despair, you are defeated before you begin,

and all my skill will be for naught.”

He opened his eyes and grabbed her wrist. Pain from his

strong grip shot up her arm. “Can you save my legs? Can you

promise I’ll walk again? Will I be as I was?”

Sianna opened herself to Graham’s heart and knew without

her promise he would die in spite of her efforts. In time she

could convince him he was a man with or without the use of his

legs, but he didn’t have time. Every minute he fought her

treatment lessened his chances of survival. She could save his

life, but she couldn’t guarantee what he asked.

She steeled herself to his desperate glare. Graham wanted

to live, but would rather die than live as a cripple.

“Yes, I promise.” Strong and sure, the lie slid through her

lips.

For a seemingly endless moment he searched her eyes.

She fought to keep the fear and doubt that crowded her

mind from her face. Was she strong enough? Skilled enough?

Satisfied with what he found, Graham eased the pressure

on her wrist. His body went lax, and his eyelids drooped again.

“Then get on with it. I will live. But be warned, if you fail me in

this I will personally escort you to the gates of Oblivion.”

***

Sianna closed the door behind her and sagged. Graham

slept, the bleeding finally stopped, but there was much yet to

do. She stretched and stepped out into the great hall. Warda

rose from where he waited outside the small chamber and

followed.

Across the hall, directing the disbursement of the caravan’s

contents, Kyne towered over the crowd. Determination drove

off exhaustion as she pushed her way through the crowd toward

him.

“Rul Cathor, a word with you.” Loud and a bit shrill, her

voice cut through the babble.

A puzzled silence fell over the people as they looked at her.

“I’ll see to the rest later. Destroy the nika,” he said. “There

will be a few less addicts to serve DiSanti’s plans.”

“No, you mustn’t!” She hurried to Kyne’s side.

Frowning, he dismissed the steward and turned to face

her. “Mustn’t what?”

The crowd around them melted away, leaving her alone

with Kyne. Apprehension rippled through her, but she pushed

her doubts and fears aside. For Graham she would dare Kyne’s

wrath for what she was about to ask. At her side, Warda leaned

against her knees, his presence a solid comfort.

“Graham does well enough, for the moment, but I have

need of certain supplies and some assistance.”

“Whatever is necessary will be provided.”

“Do I have your word on that, Rul?”

“Of course.” Suspicion darkened his gaze. “What do you

require?”

Though expected, his continued mistrust hurt. Would he

ever regard her as other than her father’s daughter? See her

as a person in her own right?

She glanced around. Curious stares and hushed whispers

indicated the crowd’s interest. “May we speak more privately?”

Arms crossed over his chest, his legs spread in a stance of

command, he stared down at her. “Why? Do you anticipate an

argument? If I have the ability to provide the items, you will

have them. Do you doubt my word?”

“No, only your temper, my lord.”

“I am the most temperate of men.” He silenced the chuckles

from the crowd with a hostile look.

“Very well. I need several strong men to hold Graham down

as I set his bones.”

“This is not a problem. What else?”

She wet her lips and continued. “Alt root will not do to dull

Graham’s pain for the setting of his bones. Something stronger

is required, or the shock alone will kill him.” Mouth dry, she

placed her hand on Kyne’s arm and willed him to read her

intent in this matter. For once she wished for the strange

connection between them. She spoke softly, for his ears alone.

“I do not ask this lightly. The only anesthetic that will work is

distilled from the nika root. I must have a quantity of the root.”

Other than the tensing of his arm muscles and a small twitch

at the corner of his pressed lips, he did not react. She felt nothing

of his emotions, nor did his eyes betray the anger she knew

must be brewing within him. His stillness fueled her fear. Not

for herself, but for Graham. Without the body-numbing drug,

Graham stood no chance of survival.

“Time is of the essence,” she hurried on. “The longer the

delay in setting Graham’s bones, the less likely he will regain

the use of them. Don’t let your fears and prejudices blind you.

Trust me in this matter.”

Kyne gripped her upper arm. Sensing a coming storm,

people fled as he pulled her across the hall and up the stairs to

his chamber. Thrusting her inside, he commanded Warda to

remain without. With a whine of protest, Warda positioned

himself in front of the closing door.

The bolt slid home with an ominous clank. A niggle of fear

jolted Sianna. Kyne would not harm her. Would he? His cold,

dark eyes and tense stance made her convictions waver. She

stepped back as he advanced on her. When the table blocked

her backward movement, she braced her palms against its edge