Crystal Moon (2 page)

but her limbs no longer obeyed her mind’s command.

“See to her as well. Kyne will want her alive.” Katya stalked

toward the fire.

The other men stood back, watching without sympathy.

Sianna could feel their eyes on her.

Inches from her face, the quinar’s large black hooves moved

restlessly. She cringed as the big animal picked its way over

her. A pair of boots appeared next to her nose, followed by a

man’s knees. She turned her head and looked up. The man,

Graham, leaned close. In his warm brown eyes she could read

the struggle between loathing and pity.

Grey liberally streaked the dark hair falling around a face

weathered and lined with experience. Tall and broad shouldered,

his musculature obvious despite the thick furs covering his frame,

by any standard, Graham was a powerful man. His hands rested

on his knees—hands that could easily break her neck, yet hands

that she sensed could also be gentle. Compassion tempered

this man’s great strength. His warmth of spirit called to her.

Though barely old enough, Graham was the father Sianna

always dreamed of, a haven of comfort and surety every child

needs and craves.

Tears of longing blurred his image. “Please,” she croaked.

Warmth vanished from his expression. “Don’t think you

can sway me with soft pleas. Did Aubin plead? I think not. If

he had, would his cries have touched your heart? Do you even

have one? No, do not beg for mercy when there is none in

you.”

“I don’t beg for mercy, only explanations. This Aubin you

speak of is unknown to me.” Sianna forced the words past her

dry throat.

Graham’s eyes narrowed, turning cold and flat. “Lies will

gain you nothing.”

His words shattered Sianna’s hope. Still, his hands were

gentle as he lifted and carried her to the fire.

Heat from the crackling blaze stung her icy skin, forcing

the blood to thaw and flow. The other men glared at her, and

like a frigid rain their stares doused the warmth.

She-hound! Whore! Demon spawn! The men’s unspoken

river of scorn battered her.

She fought against the current seeking to pull her into a pit

of darkness. The riptide sucked at her, draining her strength,

her will, eating away at her very soul.

She searched deep within for the strength to cope with the

harshness of the emotions her captors directed at her. Their

loathing differed greatly from the gratitude and love she sensed

from those she healed. How could she deal with their revulsion?

In the beginning, surprise and disbelief that anyone could

wish her harm paralyzed her. Now that her shock had worn

off, she knew she must escape. If she didn’t act soon, it would

be too late.

***

“Kyne would nail my hide to the castle wall if you were

injured.” Weary acceptance laced Graham’s grumbled

complaints. “He set me to keep watch over you, and the minute

I turn my back you run off and do something foolish. What do

you think your fate would be in DiSanti’s hands?”

Sianna heard no heat in his tone. She lay still, as yet too

physically and emotionally drained to challenge her captors.

Katya merely laughed without mirth. “You worry too much,

old man.”

Sianna felt Graham’s pang at the woman’s dismissive words.

How could Katya not know of the man’s devotion? His love

for this impetuous young woman rang in his voice and shone in

his eyes.

“Despite what Kyne may believe,” Katya continued, “he is

not my father, only my brother. I have no need of a keeper. I

can care for my own person.”

“A keeper is just what you need. Kyne is your brother, but

never forget he is also your Rul. As such he deserves your

respect and obedience.”

Katya’s shoulders dropped slightly at Graham’s chiding,

then her chin lifted. “While he sits planning his vengeance against

DiSanti, I have captured the means by which to obtain justice,

DiSanti’s only daughter, the heir to his misbegotten empire.”

How little they understood. Did her father truly love

anyone?

“What will he sacrifice to have her returned unharmed?

His fortune? His life? DiSanti is as flawed crystal. We will

shatter him.” Katya spat the words, her face twisted in anger.

If they planned to use her as bait to trap her father, they

had miscalculated. Other than as a pawn to be sacrificed for

something better, she held little worth in her father’s eyes. Why

else had he abandoned her with the Sisters so long ago?

And if these angry men raped her, what little value she had

would disappear. Without her innocence, she was worthless to

her father as a political pawn.

Sianna shivered despite the warmth of the sun now beating

down. She stirred, then cringed as they turned their hard stares

on her.

Katya stood and approached. “So DiSanti’s spawn

awakens.” She crouched down. “If in your black heart you

believe in the Eternal One, I suggest you pray.”

Sianna fought to block the woman’s venomous anger and

control the shudders of fear shaking her frame. “I don’t

understand. Why have you taken me?” She forced the words

past the terror clogging her throat.

“Do not play the innocent with me. You live only so long as

you are of use to us. Cause any trouble, and I will take great

delight in disposing of you. Your father need never know of

your death until it is much too late for him to escape our trap.

Once we have him, you will pay for your crimes as well.”

Sianna pulled herself up and faced the woman with as much

courage as she could muster. “What crimes?”

Katya gave a low growl and swung her hand. Sianna

flinched, but the blow never fell.

“Enough.” Graham grabbed Katya’s arm and pulled her

away. “The girl is no good to us if she dies of fright.” He paused,

his gaze running over Sianna. “Or from exposure.”

He released his grip on Katya and knelt next to Sianna.

The first rays of the sun flashed off a knife blade. Sianna shrank

back. The blade swept passed her face and sliced through the

rope around her wrists.

Feeling returned to her arms and hands like a thousand

insect stings. She gritted her teeth to keep from moaning. A

heavy fur coat, warm from the fire and the heat of the man’s

body, dropped over her bent shoulders. Before she could speak

her thanks, he placed a mug filled with a fragrant, steaming

liquid in her hands.

Features twisted into a disapproving scowl, Katya moved

to snatch away the mug. Graham stopped her.

“She is our prisoner. Would you abuse her in her

helplessness, as they abused Aubin?” he questioned softly.

Katya’s gaze locked with Sianna’s. Heartbreak flashed

across Katya’s face. Sianna felt it like a blade in her heart.

“Will you sink into the slime with DiSanti?” Graham

continued.

Wave after wave of agony held Sianna rigid. Only when

Katya whirled and fled the clearing did the anguish in Sianna’s

heart cease. She knew Katya was not so fortunate. She carried

the soul-destroying grief within her.

“For whom does she grieve?” Sianna dared to ask.

Graham’s grizzled features tightened, erasing all hint of his

gentle nature. “Cease your questions, woman. Do not try our

patience with your false show of innocence.” He turned and

stalked away.

Just what did they believe her father had done?

***

Sianna sat behind Graham, her arms around his waist as

his quinar picked its way confidently along the narrow mountain

path. To one side sheer rock walls rose toward a cerulean sky,

to the other, the ground fell away sharply. Pebbles dislodged by

the passing quinar rained down into the distant valley. Upward

they climbed. Despite the heat of the sun, the air grew thin and

cold.

“Will you tell me where are we going?” Despite herself,

Sianna’s voice quavered.

“Don’t be so eager. You’ll know soon enough.”

“But...”

“Be silent, woman, or I’ll gag you. I’ve no desire to listen

to more of your lies of ignorance and innocence.”

Though he spoke gruffly, deep within him Sianna sensed

the seed of beginning belief. She contented herself with that

small break in his hatred.

When the sun stood straight overhead, they paused at a

wide place in the path and dismounted. Her limbs ached and

trembled from clinging to Graham and from the jarring gait of

the quinar. They ate dried meat and fruit, washed down by a

sharp ale.

Sianna gulped the cold liquid, grateful for its numbing effect.

Sitting beside Graham, she dared to ask again, “Where are we

going?”

While Graham and Katya ignored her question, the other

men’s antagonism intensified. Tension made the atmosphere

thick. “Why do they hate me so?”

“Murderers are not often loved,” Katya said.

The thought of what these people might do to her tightened

her throat so she couldn’t swallow. “You think I murdered

someone?”

Hostile silence met her question. Apprehension kept her

from asking more.

She was almost grateful when they mounted the beasts

and moved on.

The path widened even more, heading downward. Shadows

lengthened and the air warmed. Where before she welcomed

the protection, she now longed to shed Graham’s heavy coat.

Fear of sliding from the quinar’s back kept her from releasing

her grip on Graham, and the men’s gazes already lingered over

long on her bare legs. Like a sullen black cloud, their lust joined

with the lightning of their hate. She was the enemy, the focus

of their anger. Would their normal moral restraints protect her?

She feared they would not.

Dark came early in the shadow of the mountains. They

made camp in a wooded valley. Quietly the men moved around,

tethering the tired quinar and building a fire to prepare a hot

meal. The tinkling sound of water cascading over rock blended

with the chorus of birds settling for the night and the rustle of

dry leaves in the evening breeze.

Once the sun dipped behind the mountain’s bulk, the air

grew chilled. Sianna wrapped her arms around her waist, again

grateful for the coat’s warmth.

Silence pounded against her abraded nerves. She could

almost hear the thoughts of the men, and her tender heart

lamented the fury directed at her. She tried not to draw attention

to herself.

Graham’s quinar nickered and nuzzled her fingers when

she fed it a piece of dried fruit she had saved from the midday

meal. Though she knew the men watched her every movement,

no one stopped her as she spoke to the quinar and stroked its

rough coat. The animal responded to her touch with low rumbles

of pleasure. She easily read the simple creature’s wants—a

scratch in an unreachable spot, a rub, a handful of sweet grass.

By giving him what he craved, she gained his trust and

acceptance.

Deju, Katya’s beast, laid his massive head on her shoulder.

She staggered beneath its weight. He sighed in contentment as

her fingers massaged behind one floppy ear. Moist and heavy

with the smell of chewed grass, his breath bathed Sianna’s

neck.

Could she mount and ride away without being caught? The

thought of escape tantalized her. Self-preservation urged her to

flee, while her training prodded her to stay and help these deeply

troubled people. But would they accept her aid?

“Move away from the animals,” a man called Je’al ordered.

Though tall, he appeared no older than Sianna. His gaze swept

over her, then lingered on the swell of her breasts beneath her

thin robe and nightdress. She clutched the coat closed.

“You think you can escape your fate?”

“I wasn’t trying to escape.” The lie tasted sour on her

tongue.

Before she could scurry back to the relative safety of the

campfire, his fingers closed around her wrist.

Like a burning brand, his touch revealed the torment

churning within him. Hate, black and ugly, and a fevered hunger

mingled until the two emotions demanded an outlet, lest they

destroy him.

Hope shrinking, Sianna knew he meant to vent his wrath

on her. Caught up in his turmoil, it was a moment before she

realized he pulled her deeper into the growing darkness rather

than back toward the others. She opened her mouth to cry out.

He clamped his hand over her face, smothering her scream.

She fought his hold, her struggles no match for his strength.

Soon she could no longer see the light from the fire or hear the

murmur of voices.

His hand lifted from her mouth. She gulped in air and struck

out. He grunted.

“Be still, she-hound.” His fingers dug into her shoulder,

forcing her to the ground.

“Let me go.”

Pinned beneath his weight, she tried to retreat from his

emotions. If she failed to separate from his passions, she feared

she would experience her rape from his perspective. To do so

would destroy her as surely as it would him.