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Authors: Charlotte Boyet-Compo

BOOK: PRINCE OF THE WIND
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"I would not have liked to have been here then," Guy said, standing on the threshold of the central tower, marveling that ten men standing shoulder to shoulder would not span the archway under which he had paused.

"I’ve never heard such fury coming from a human being," Taber said. "It was all the queen could do to keep King Aidan from boarding the
Banshee
and sailing directly to Haelstrom Point."

"She knew it wouldn’t have done any good," one guard snapped as he shut the doors behind them.

Guy looked back as the iron portals closed. "I take it that young man is a good friend of Riain Cree’s."

Taber nodded. "Very much so."

"Why did the queen know it wouldn’t do any good to go to Virago?" Gerard queried.

"Because she knew the boy wasn’t there. She couldn’t tell where he was, but she could tell where he wasn’t." He lowered his voice. "She is a Daughter."

Guy’s forehead creased with puzzlement. "I don’t understand."

Taber’s voice went lower still. "A Daughter of the Multitude—a magik-sayer."

"A witch woman?"

"Something like that."

"So no one knew he was being held in the Labyrinth," Gerard mused. "I wonder why they took him there."

"What reason would anyone have to look in a penal colony for him?" Taber challenged. "Hesar wanted him where he couldn’t escape and there isn’t any escape from Tyber’s Isle, or so they say. And Hesar wanted him where he could put his hands on him as soon as he reached sixteen and of marriageable age, according to Viragonian law."

"They were bringing him back to Join with one of Hesar’s daughters when we attacked the
Storm Maiden
," Guy stated. "Hesar must have been livid when he found out."

"He was no doubt relieved, though," Taber amended, "when he found out the lad hadn’t gone down with the ship and its murdered crew."

Guy chuckled. "I would imagine."

"Duke du Mer?"

Guy saw a tall, thin man with flaming red hair limping toward him.

"Sir Dolan Loure," Taber whispered. "The king’s chief steward."

The man was nearly seven feet tall with a craggy brow that jutted out over small, black eyes. His shoulders were hunched forward and his hands hung loosely at his side. His limp was painful to watch; he favored his left leg, and it gave a somewhat shambling, sideways lurch to his walk. His bright red hair was pulled straight back from his face and braided in one long queue down his back.

"Welcome to Chale, Your Grace. I trust your journey was uneventful?" Sir Dolan inquired as he stopped before Guy and bowed respectfully.

"We couldn’t have asked for a better crossing." Guy put out his hand, not in the least surprised that the knight-steward, without hesitation, took his wrist in a firm grip.

"His Majesty has asked that I offer you and Sir Gerard permanent residence at Briarcliff Keep, if you are so inclined to accept." He let go of Guy’s hand and turned to Gerard, extending his hand toward a fellow warrior.

Gerard smiled relief and took the offered wrist. "We are grateful."

"It is an honor and a great pleasure to offer hospitality to you both." Sir Dolan shifted his weight from his injured leg to his sound one. "Riain told me of your kindness to him. You have our gratitude, Milord."

"And did he tell you I mistreated him?" Gerard spoke up, his eyes steady on the other knight.

Guy groaned. Gerard Boucharde was an honest man, but sometimes his honesty got in the way of his better judgment.

Dolan gracefully inclined his head. "Indeed, he did." His beady black eyes sparkled as Gerard flinched. "He also said you had a heavy hand to go along with a heavy heart at having abused him."

Gerard drew himself up. "I didn’t know who he was at the time."

The Chalean knight smiled. "But had you known and were still ordered to strike the boy, you would have done so without a moment’s thought, would you not?"

Boucharde’s head snapped down in a brusque nod. "If my Overlord had so ordered, but I wouldn’t have liked it knowing the lad was a royal son of the house of Cree."

Dolan laughed. "That was what Riain said you would say." He wrapped his arm around Gerard’s shoulder. "We are going to be good friends, I think, Gerard."

"Gerry," the ex-Master-at-Arms corrected. "My friends call me Gerry."

* * *

"The woman must be insane to threaten to kill Riain’s lady-wife, and with the Joining not even taken place yet." Dolan Loure shook his head. "Surely there must be someone who can control her."

"She sent a ship the very day she got back to Vent du Nord," Guy said as he put down his goblet. "She took eight men out of prison—"

"Eight murderers condemned to die," Gerard pointed out.

"—And ordered them to put an end to Miyoshi Shimota’s life."

Dolan rolled the base of his goblet in circles on the table, watching the light reflect off the heavy gold stem. "We sent our ship after the
Banshee
and her escort as soon as we learned Prince Gunter had died."

"The king knew your Tribunal would put the princess on the throne," Sir Brice, Dolan’s twin brother, spoke up from his place near the hearth. The only observable difference between him and his older brother was that Sir Brice’s hair was as black as pitch and he wore it cropped painfully close to his oversized skull. "He’ll not be happy to learn she has made such vile threats. But at least he’ll be made aware of the situation."

"I am sure Emperor Keijo has adequate protection for his daughter," Guy responded. "We don’t have to worry on that score."

"I hope not," Dolan answered and drained his goblet.

"What does the Zonelander woman think to accomplish by ordering Riain’s wife’s death?" Brice inquired.

In his chair, Gerard leaned toward the warmth the fireplace offered in the chill room. Rain lashed against the windows; they had arrived during Chale’s rainy season. "She thinks he belongs to her. If she can not have him, she intends to see no woman does."

"But even if the Emperor’s daughter dies, what difference would it make?" Brice insisted. "Surely the Zonelander witch must know Riain’s parents would find him another mate."

"You didn’t hear ’Zanna screaming at him in the courtyard," Guy replied. "If you had, you’d understand just how crazy she is. She swore to destroy all whom he loves, and then one day take his life, as well."

"Duncan heard her," Dolan mumbled. "He said her words scared him and Dunc’s not a man easily given to fear."

"Riain’s afraid of her, too," Brice put in. "He told me as much."

"With good reason, it seems," Dolan declared.

"Her ship has nearly a week’s start on yours," Gerard reminded the Loure’s. "That’s what I’m scared of."

"As the Duke said," Dolan reponded, "the Emperor will have bodyguards for his daughter, and our King has had men watching Riain around the clock from the moment they left your harbor."

"Let’s hope someone will have thought to tell the Chrystallusians to be on the lookout for a Zonelander vessel," Brice replied.

Gerard and Guy exchanged a worried look that obviously did not escape the notice of the twins. It was Dolan who asked what the look meant.

"She’s flying a Diabolusian flag," Guy answered.

"Doesn’t matter," Dolan said, shaking his head. "Chrystallus and Diabolusia have been at odds for a hundred years. Besides, no ship enters Nyotoka Harbor without the express approval of the Emperor, himself."

"A longboat lowered from a ship not approved is promptly blown out of the water," Brice added. "Even if she’s carrying a white flag."

"But what if the ship is friendly?" Gerard asked, curiously. "And on legitimate business?"

"She’s boarded by the Chrystallusians while still far out in the harbor and under the guns of four warships," Dolan explained. "If she passes the test, only her captain and first mate are allowed off the ship and rowed over to see the harbor master. If he thinks they have an legitimate reason for being there, he sends for the head of harbor security."

"There’s nine different men a visitor has to pass before he’s ever allowed anywhere near Binh Tae Palace," Brice said, "and even then, he’s under heavy guard. And the chances of him getting within a mile of the royal family is almost nil. The Chrystallusians don’t like strangers in their midst."

"I guess not," Guy said, thinking of how he had planned on going to the Lotus Land as a last resort in search of a new home.

"With any luck," Dolan began, stretching out his bad leg and wincing, "the Zonelander ship will get blown to smithereens. Else she’ll get sunk during a heavy squall and we won’t have to worry about the brat until he comes home with his lady."

"Then," Brice stressed, "we’ll have our hands full!"

"How so?" Gerard inquired.

Brice snorted. "That gods-be-damned Cree sense of honor." He looked at his brother. "He’ll think he, and he alone, should be the one to protect his lady from Suzanna de Viennes’ threat. He won’t want us tagging along everywhere he and she go, and the king and queen will make damned sure we do. There’s gonna be shouting and screaming and all kinds of commotion, but in the end—"

"We’ll be on him like stink on a skunk, and there won’t be a gods-be-damned thing Riain can do," Dolan completed.

"A bad way to have to live," Gerard said.

"Aye," Guy replied, "but necessary where ’Zanna is concerned."

"You really believe his life is in danger?" Dolan asked.

Guy shot him a level gaze. "Don’t you? Doesn’t his father and mother? Sir Duncan?"

Dolan nodded thoughtfully. He cast his brother a long look. "Perhaps it would be best if this woman were not around to cause our brat grief."

Brice smiled. "I was hoping you’d say that."

Chapter 9

 

His hand trembled as he gently placed it on his lady’s cheek.

She smiled and planted a kiss in his callused palm.

"It is time," he said softly.

She nodded and yawned, then sat up. Lifting her arms, she stretched, bringing his attention to the bodice of her gingham gown.

He looked away. His body was on fire with need, and such a sight only fanned the flames of his desire. For more than an hour, he had lain beside this beauty, watching her sleep, and had memorized every freckle and mole on her stunning face. He had marveled at her creamy complexion and the blue-black hair that fell to her tiny waist. He had feasted his eyes on her delicate chin and upturned nose, long eyelashes, and high cheekbones. He ached to kiss her full lips and taste the honey of her mouth.

He shivered, forcing his mind from such thoughts.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, surprised his voice didn’t break like a teenager’s.

"Aye. Like a babe. Did you?"

"In truth, I slept very little."

She likely knew why, he thought. While she slept, protected, he had lain awake, protecting. That was his way and one of the reasons he knew she loved him so dearly. But he wouldn’t appreciate being thanked for doing his duty, so he was grateful she changed the subject.

"It looks to be a fine day for traveling," she remarked.

He was lying on his side, his head propped in his hand, his legs crossed at the ankles. He stared at her innocent profile, smiling gently as she turned to look at him over her shoulder.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered. He knew love was in his eyes as he came to his knees beside her. He threaded his fingers through the hair at her temples, anchored her head, and kissed her, his lips plying her as gently as dandelion fluff flying in the breeze.

She moved to face him.

As they knelt in the greensward, the sun’s rays bathed the lovers in a soft mist of light filtering through the branches of the tall trees. The delicate scent of gardenia and jasmine wafted about on a gentle breeze, setting the emerald leaves to rustling.

All was silent, save for the song of a cardinal calling to its mate high atop a stately pine.

He pulled her to him. Her arms went around him and she laid her head against his shoulder, obviously delighting in the feel of his body.

"You are my heart," he told her.

"As you are mine."

Raven Saur’s body was as tense as a coiled spring. The chances he and Miyoshi Shimota were taking could send them both to the Tribunal for punishment. But their love had been growing since childhood, and neither could imagine life without the other.

"I will not let him have you," Raven said. "Even if it means my life."

"Shush," Miyoshi said, her eyes filling with tears. "By the time he finds us, it will be too late. Aidan Cree will not want damaged goods for his son."

Possessiveness pulsed in Raven’s soul. His arms tightened around his Lady-love. Though his heart pounded, he was calm. He had plotted his course of action, made plans not even his lady knew. Yet it seemed Miyoshi had plans of her own.

"My body is mine to give, Raven Saur. It belongs to you and always shall. Take me now and let us become one."

Her words brought a thrill of joy to his heart and a stab of arousal to his manhood. But he would not, could not, take advantage of the moment and their situation to take what had not been legally given to him. They were a hundred miles from the Serenian border and the priest who was waiting to Join them. Before he lay with Miyoshi, took her body, he would have the blessing and seal of Alel. He had waited twenty years for this moment; one more hour or two was of little importance. He wanted Miyoshi to be able to tell their children she had been a virgin on her Joining night. It was a point of honor and a source of pride for him. Though his body ached, he would not give in, no matter how wonderful she felt in his arms.

"Do not tempt me, Miyoshi," he said sternly. "I will not be swayed."

"What if Papa catches us before we make the border?"

"If that happens, it will take a regiment of men to drag you away from me." Raven’s hand went to the dagger strapped to his thigh. "I’ll shed more blood than was spilled at Dunswich during the battle. He’ll have to kill me, and he knows if he does, my clan will come for him like Raphian after a sinner’s soul!"

Miyoshi shuddered violently. She had once told Raven, the thought of him dying was a horror that visited her nightly. In her dreams, she saw his broken body upon the field of battle, sword clutched in his bloody hand. She awoke at the witching hour each night, the sheets soaked with perspiration and her pillowcase damp from tears. This past night had been no different and Raven had stilled her fears with kisses and his touch.

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