Return of the Warrior (18 page)

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Authors: Kinley MacGregor

BOOK: Return of the Warrior
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“Adara?”

Adara looked up from where she was washing her face to find Phantom entering her tent, with Lutian one step behind him. With his long raven hair secured at his nape with a black cord, Phantom was dressed all in black that was trimmed in silver, while Lutian wore a dark brown surcoat that covered a yellow tunic and brown breeches. The two men looked a bit harried, which would make sense if they were here at Christian’s behest. They should be in fear if they dared to mention his name to her. She was in no mood to deal with any man right now.

Luckily they had just missed her last bout with morning sickness that was strangely attacking her at midday instead of in the morning.

She pressed the cool cloth to the back of her neck to ease more of her unsettled stomach.
“Leave me, Phantom, Lutian. I don’t feel well at present.”

Phantom glanced to Lutian, then back at her. “I assure you, you’re about to feel worse.”

She gave him a droll stare. “I am in no mood to deal with you and your quips.”

“My queen, please,” Lutian said as he came forward, “you must come with us immediately.”

“Where?”

A tic worked in Phantom’s jaw. “Christian’s tent.”

Anger whipped through her. So she had been right about the purpose of their visit. Well, if her husband wanted her back, he could just come himself and face the wrath that he had wrought.

“You can bloody well forget that! I’d sooner the devil take him and—”

“Well, you’re about to get your wish.”

Phantom’s bland words gave her pause. “What wish is that?”

“The devil is about to take him.”

She frowned in confusion. “Pardon?”

It was Lutian who answered. “Your prince lies mortally wounded, my queen. We most likely only have a few more moments before he dies.”

Adara’s head swam at the news. Her knees felt weak, unstable. “You lie!”

Phantom shook his head grimly. “One of our members headed to town for midday Mass found him. It appears Christian was attacked outside of a cathedral by unknown assailants. By the look of
how and where he was attacked, I’d wager it was the Sesari…His father’s sword was taken from him, as was his mother’s emblem.”

Grief tore through her at the news. This couldn’t be happening.

Christian dead?

She wanted to scream, to rail. And yet that regal sense of bearing came into her. Emotions would get her nowhere. She must be calm. Christian needed her.

Without further comment, she left her tent and rushed to Christian’s, which was crowded by the members of the Brotherhood who had been imprisoned with him. They all looked as ill as she felt as they discussed who could have done such a thing to a man who was as capable a fighter as Christian.

“It didn’t even look as if he’d tried to protect himself,” one man said.

“If he was attacked fast enough, he wouldn’t have had time to even draw his sword,” another answered.

Ioan was standing closest to the bed, looking down upon it.

Her heart hammered as she followed his line of vision and saw Christian lying there. His skin held a grayish cast to it. His lips were already blue. She could see the bloodied bandages where they had tried to tend him.

There were so many cuts…

She walked through the crowd with her head held high, but as she drew closer to him, her bear
ing shattered under the weight of her grief. She would have fallen had Ioan not caught her as wrenching sobs were torn from her.

“Don’t touch me,” she screamed, pushing Ioan away from her. She only wanted to feel one man’s touch.

And now she would most likely never feel it again.

Sinking to her knees beside the bed, she lay her head down on Christian’s arm and wept, stretching her arm over his chest as if to protect him. She didn’t care how many were there to witness her common behavior. Nothing mattered to her except her husband who lay so close to death.

“Please, Christian,” she sobbed. “Please don’t leave me. I promise I shall never speak another angry word to you again.”

But he didn’t move or respond.

Adara crawled into the bed beside him and lay herself down so that she could hold him for these last few minutes. This might very well be the last time in her life that she would be able to look upon him, to touch him.

And that was enough to cripple her with grief.

She heard Ioan ushering the others out while she brushed her hand through Christian’s golden blond hair. His skin was so clammy and cold. He lacked all the vitality, the fire that marked him.

In that moment, she knew she would gladly sell her soul to have him back as he’d been just a few hours ago while they had argued. “I am so sorry
that I came here and sought you out,” she whispered in his ear. “I should have left you in England where you were safe. What have I done?”

But then she knew. She had killed him. Had it not been for her, he would be in England now with his friends. He would be alive…

More agony washed through her as she tried to imagine what her life would be like without him. They had known each other for such a short time, and yet he had come to mean so very much to her.

She loved having his face be the first thing she saw in the morning. Having his touch be the last thing she felt at night.

Now it would all cease.

“Oh, Christian,” she sobbed as she buried her face against his biceps. “I don’t want to live without you.”

She finally understood what he’d meant when he spoke so bitterly about love. Why he refused to love her. There was truly no worse pain than what she felt now. No wonder he’d sought to protect himself from it.

“Adara?” Ioan asked in a quiet tone from behind her.

“Leave us,” she said, her voice breaking. “I want to be with him for as long as I can.”

He placed a sympathetic hand on her shoulder and gave a light, comforting squeeze. “I will be outside.”

She lifted her head from Christian’s chest as she felt him withdrawing. “Ioan?”

He paused to look at her. “Aye?”

“I care not what it takes. Find the ones responsible for this and bring them to me.”

“I shall have their heads and—”

“Nay,” she said from between clenched teeth as a new wave of rage swept through her. “I want them alive so that I myself can have the pleasure of making them pay for this.”

“I will send out my men.” Ioan made a quick exit.

Her heart broken, she returned to Christian to lay her head on his chest so that she could hear his faint, weak heartbeat. Closing her eyes, she tried to pretend that this was the day before, when all had been right between them.

Christian had spent a full hour in the morning making love to her. He had teased and stroked, and made light of the fact that he was tired of fighting with Ioan over their march to Elgedera.

She had held him in her arms and stroked his hair as they talked about everything and yet nothing of any importance. She’d wanted to tell him then of the baby inside her. But Christian had been in such a good mood that she’d hesitated.

And now this…

“I love you, Christian,” she breathed against him. “I only wish I had told you that when you could have heard it.”

Now, it was too late. He would never know all he was to her, all he meant. Never know the sound
of his child’s cry or the joy she had felt when she’d realized that she carried this tiny part of him.

“I swear to you, Christian, I won’t let our baby die or be used. No one will ever hurt him like they hurt you. I swear it on my immortal soul.”

She only wished that she had guarded her husband with the same degree of care.

 

Days went by as Christian hung on the threshold of death. None of the physicians could understand it. By all rights, given the severity of his wounds, he should be dead.

He wasn’t.

That gave Adara hope. “Stay with me, my prince,” she whispered, holding his hand and kissing his battle-scarred knuckles.

Adara spent hours singing to him in her language and in Elgederion. She spent even longer praying for him. The days of her vigil blurred together as she waited for him to finally return to her. She would only alternate her watch with Lutian and Phantom.

“He’s going to live, Adara,” Phantom said as he came to relieve her long enough for her to wash and attend basic needs. “I know it.”

She hoped so. The alternative didn’t bear thinking on. “I just wish he would open his eyes and look at me. Then I would believe, too.”

She brushed his hair back from his forehead. Today his color did seem to be better. It no longer
was quite so gray and his fever seemed to have lessened.

But he was so gaunt. His wounds so savage.

If she ever laid hand on the villains responsible, they would know a wrath the likes of which could only be second to the devil’s own.

Her heart heavy, she started to rise, only to feel Christian’s grip tighten on her hand.

Instantly, she froze. “Christian?”

His grip tightened even more, as if to let her know that he heard her. Tears fell down her cheeks as happiness swelled inside her.

“Phantom, fetch the leech.”

He ran without hesitation.

Adara saw Christian’s chest rise with the first deep breath he’d taken since they had found him and brought him here. She cried uncontrollably as she held him close.

His breathing turned ragged, no doubt from the pain he was feeling now.

Afraid she might be hurting him, she pulled back.

He blinked open his eyes to look at her, and it was there she saw the confirmation of his physical agony.

“I know, my love,” she whispered to him, wanting to comfort his pain. “Lie still and just breathe easily.” Adara went to get a cup of wine so that she could dribble tiny drops of it into his mouth to ease the bitter thirst he must have.

The leech came into the tent and paused as he
saw Christian’s eyes finally open. “’Tis unbelievable,” he said, crossing himself.

As the leech came forward, she saw Christian reach for his throat where his necklace had rested. The utter grief in his eyes tore through her.

“All will be well,” she whispered as she kissed him on his brow, then tried to move aside to allow the leech to tend him. Christian refused to release her as a single tear leaked from the corner of his left eye to run down his temple. He kept her hand in his.

Adara kissed the tear away, wishing she could erase his grief as easily. They had not only savaged his body, they had savaged his spirit. His last ties to his parents were gone now. She only hoped that they found the items…

And the thieves.

The leech didn’t stay long. Only long enough to check his bandages and proclaim this the most miraculous recovery he’d ever witnessed.

“I’ll let the others know,” Phantom said.

Adara nodded as she returned to sit on the edge of Christian’s bed. He had yet to speak with words. But his loving gaze told her volumes.

“Welcome back to the world of the living, Christian.”

He swallowed, then coughed.

“Easy,” she said, afraid he might tear the stitches in his chest.

“I’m sorry, Adara,” he said, his voice raspy and strained.

His words baffled her. “Sorry for what?”

“That I disappointed you.”

Her tears started anew. “You are never a disappointment to me, Christian. Never…unless you die on me. That would make me dreadfully disappointed, and then I should have to kill you for it.”

The corners of his lips lifted a tiny bit.

Suddenly activity exploded in the tent as Ioan and all the others came pouring in to see for themselves that Christian was awake and living.

But Adara wouldn’t let them stay long for fear of weakening him. One by one she shooed them out, until it was just her and Ioan, while Phantom went to find a cup of broth for Christian.

“You scared us all, Abbot,” Ioan said sternly. “’Twould do us no good to win back a throne for a corpse.”

Christian snorted at that. “Aye, but it gives us an advantage now, doesn’t it?”

Ioan nodded. “They’ll think we turned back without you here to lead us.”

Adara excused herself to attend her needs.

“Nay!” Christian snapped hoarsely. “They could still be out there, watching for you.” He looked to Ioan. “Keep someone with her at all times.”

“Consider it done.” Ioan paused before they left. “I have a spare sword for you. I know it’s not your father’s, but it is a fine weapon.”

A muscle worked in Christian’s jaw, but he said nothing as they left.

Christian lay there in silence as his mind replayed what had happened outside the church. He’d never been angrier over anything.

He would be more vigilant in the future. At no time could any of them afford to let their guard down. He was lucky that he wasn’t dead.

Nay, it wasn’t luck. He knew why he’d fought so hard to return to consciousness.

Adara.

She was the breath inside him, the strength. How could he deny the truth?

Others need you.

“I need her.” It was that easy and that hard. He didn’t want to live without her and yet how could he forsake those who needed him to help them?

Unlike the war for Elgedera, he didn’t see how he could possibly win in this.

 

Christian didn’t truly breathe again until Adara was back inside his tent where he could watch and make sure she was fine.

“You look tired,” he said as she rejoined him.

Ioan snorted. “She’s barely rested while you layill. We tried to get her to leave you, but it was nigh impossible.”

She blushed prettily as she started to take a seat near the bed.

“Come here, wife.” He held his hand out to her.

Ioan cleared his throat. “Now that she’s returned to you, I’ll leave the two of you alone.” He inclined his head to them before he took his leave.

“How long have I lain unconscious?” he asked her.

“Just over a sennight.”

“I’m sorry if I worried you.”

“And well you should be,” she said in a stern voice that was belied by her teasing gaze. “I have worn my knees out in prayer for your worthless hide these days past.”

“Worthless?”

“Aye. Why I bothered, I have no idea.”

Still he could see the relief and the teasing in her dark eyes, and that warmed him more than a raging fire. “I’m glad you bothered.”

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