Shades of the Wind (23 page)

hands out to either side of him, palms up. “We knew not what to do.”

“Nyria is gone, you say?” Catherine asked, her eyes narrowing.

“No trace was discovered of the darkling though there is much blood in your

chamber,” Rajab replied. “Her possessions are where she left them but she has

vanished. Likewise Lord Bahru is nowhere to be found.”

“Lord Bahru is dead,” Catherine said. “He abducted me and was killed by Prince

Rhada’s men.”

“No great loss,” Rajab mumbled, and started to apologize but Catherine stopped

him.

“My sentiments as well, Captain. He was a vile man and the world will not miss his

parting.”

Rajab bowed his head in acknowledgement of her words.

“Prince Khenty is being cared for by Prince Rhada’s healer. We will return to

Anubeion as soon as he is able to travel. I wish I could tell you what needs to be done

for our dead, but I do not know.” She took a step toward the Medjai. “Perhaps one of

your men could apprentice with the prince to learn the procedures while we procure

another embalmer.”

“We would be honored to do so, Your Grace,” Rajab replied.

“Go home then and take care of our people. Hopefully, we will return soon.”

Climbing the stairs to the bedchamber in which her husband lay, Catherine was

numb with grief for Holly and Jacob and though she hadn’t known him well, for

Holly’s husband Silus as well. She had liked them both and was sorry they would not

be there when she returned to Anubeion. She remembered Holly wanting to return to

Ionary and made a mental note to tell Khenty they must make arrangements to send the

cook and her husband home for burial. As to Jacob, she had no idea where he had been

born or if he had even desired to return there. Perhaps Khenty would know.

“Prince Rhada says you may enter now, Your Grace,” the guard at the door told

Catherine as she came down the hallway.

Grateful she could see her husband, Catherine thanked the guard and waited for

him to open the door for her. She went into the bedchamber and was relieved to see

Khenty awake and holding his hand out to her. “Where did you go, wench?” he asked.

“You’ve spoiled him already, Catherine,” Rhada chuckled. “He is not apt to let you

out of his sight anytime soon.”

She went to her husband and took his hand, glancing over at his bandaged left arm.

“The poison is gone?”

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“And the wound cleaned,” the healer said as he returned his instruments to his

large black bag. “You will need to change the dressing twice a day and spread on the

ointment I have given His Grace.”

“I will see to it,” Catherine agreed, smiling at her husband when he brought her

hand to his lips. “Bed rest is indicated?”

“For a few days at least,” the healer acknowledged, “though I suspect that might be

hard to accomplish if Prince Khenty is anything like Prince Rhada.”

“We’ve the dead to see to,” Khenty said, searching Catherine’s face. “Who told you

about what happened at Anubeion?”

“Captain Rajab came looking for you,” she answered.

“The dead need us, milady. We must return home,” her husband said, starting to

throw the covers aside.

“I think not!” the healer said. “Not today at any rate.”

“He knows what is best, Mikos,” Rhada told the healer. “He will be more

comfortable in his own home than here.”

The healer pursed his lips but said nothing more, merely giving a curt nod to his

prince.

Khenty’s arm throbbed horribly and his shoulder felt as though it had been

dislocated but he managed to swing his legs off the bed, grateful he wore a soft pair of

black silk pants to hide him from the healer’s avid view. He’d heard certain things

about Oceanian men and was uneasy with the man’s intense stare.

“Come, Mikos,” Rhada said, sensing his counterpart’s discomfort. “Let’s leave him

to dress.”

“May we use the wagon again, milord?” Catherine asked as she slipped her arm

around Khenty’s waist.

“Of course. I’ll send someone to fetch it tomorrow.”

“I can sit a mount,” Khenty protested, but his wife gave him a droll look that

brought the color to his cheeks. He ducked his head. “But the wagon might be best.”

Rhada’s lips twitched and he winked at Catherine. “Our womenfolk always know

what is best for us.”

After they were alone and Khenty was sitting on the bed, Catherine on her knees

before him buttoning his shirt, he gave in to the weakness that he’d refused to show in

front of the others. “I feel like shit warmed over, dropped on the floor, stepped in then

scraped off someone’s boot,” he admitted.

Catherine giggled. “That sounds pretty bad,” she acknowledged. She got to her feet

and went over to retrieve the boots Rhada had provided for her husband, wrinkling her

nose at the pair Khenty had pilfered from someone’s barn.

“When we’ve prepared the bodies, it will be a while before we will need to escort

the tribunalist, Hasani and Jacob to their rest. I’ll have the boat readied to take Holly

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and Silus back to Ionary. Unless there are other dead I’m not sensing, I intend to sleep

for an entire day and night,” he told her.

“And you should,” she agreed.

His gaze was like a burning ember. “With you at my side.”

“We’ll see,” she said, and squatted down to help him on with the borrowed boots.

Looking down at her silky burgundy red hair, he reached out to touch the long

braid hanging over her left shoulder. His loins ached as his fingers slid along the satiny

tresses. “I love you, Kate,” he said softly.

She lifted her head as she tugged on his boot. “And I love you, Khenty,” she

replied.

“Did that bastard hurt you?” he asked.

“Bahru?” she asked then shook her head. “No, I was unconscious when Rhada’s

men killed him.”

He let go of her braid. “Rhada and I have never been particularly friendly but I am

thankful it was he who rescued you. Had it been Xolotl, there might have been a bit of a

problem.”

“Prince Xolotl is the Diabolusian psychopomp?”

He nodded. “He’s a perpetually horny little runt who I have no doubt would have

attempted to seduce you. Rhada is an honorable man and fears his lady’s wrath.”

“He described the two of you as pleasant rivals,” she said, standing up.

“Pleasant rivals,” he repeated. “I’m not sure I would have described our

relationship in that way.” He got to his feet, his injured arm held crooked at his waist.

“Before the site of our meeting place cycled to Serenia and to Prince Kai, Rhada had

come to Anubeion many times over the years on the Day of the Dead to celebrate the

Release of Souls.”

“When will that cycle return to us, milord?” she asked, remembering Nyria saying

something about him entertaining his own kind.

“Not for another hundred years,” he said, “and by then, I hope you and I have

retired and gone on to the Fields to rest.”

“I should think we would be,” she said with a light snort.

“Catherine,” he said, reaching out to cup the back of her beck with his palm. He

stared down into her emerald eyes. “Milady, you are no longer entirely human. You,

like I, will live way past the normal span of years. A hundred years is but a drop in the

well from a leaky bucket.”

Her lips parting, she stared at him with horror. “Oh Khenty!” Tears filled her eyes.

“I will be so wrinkled and saggy! I will look terrible for you!”

He smiled. “You will look no different on the day you make the Final Journey than

you do now.” He shrugged. “I don’t like to brag, but I don’t think I look a day over

thirty-five. Do I?”

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She swiped at the single tear that fell down her cheek. “How old
are
you?”

Thick jet brows waggled. “I’ll never tell, but let’s just say I was around long before

you were a gleam in your father’s eye.”

“Eeewww,” she said, pretending to shudder. “I married an old geezer!”

Khenty snaked out his good arm and pulled her to him. “I’ll make you regret that

remark, wench,” he said before swooping down to claim her lips.

Catherine clung to him—mindful of his wound—as his kiss made her toes curl in

her boots. Heat flooded her lower body and her breasts tightened beneath his expert

assault. She wanted nothing more than to push him down on the bed, open his pants

and impale herself on the hard bulge pressing against her belly.

The Kensetti prince pulled away from her. “Save that thought,” he said hoarsely,

stepping away from her. “Until we’re home.”

* * * * *

The wagon ride back to Anubeion was miserable for Khenty but he did not

complain. He lay with his head in his wife’s lap, her cool hands on his brow, and tried

to doze, but it seemed the driver ran over every rock in the road between Ocaleae and

their home. By the time the gates of the Kensetti mansion swung open, he had almost

ground his teeth to nubs in an effort to keep quiet.

Rajab met them as Khenty struggled to put one foot ahead of the other up the steps

of his home. The Medjai warrior gently took over for Catherine in helping his prince

into the mansion.

“Catherine, I need to take a nap before we begin our care of the dead,” Khenty said.

“Please write a letter to the Council of Priests and explain to them what has happened.

Ask them to send us two taricheutes this time and a coachytes. Bid them hurry.” He

glanced at Rajab. “Have a man ride to the harbor with the letter as soon as milady has

finished with it and make sure the captain of my fleetest ship leaves on the evening

tide.”

“Aye, Your Grace,” Rajab replied. “I took the liberty of informing Lord Kaelin of

what has happened and he sent word he will be here tomorrow morning. He could not

leave sooner.”

Khenty nodded. “I will need him more tomorrow than today so that’s just as well.”

Catherine trailed behind her husband and the captain of the Medjai as Rajab

assisted his prince up the stairs. She keenly felt the loss of Jacob and Holly, felt sadness

over Silus’ loss, yet sensed their spirits were not angry at their passing. Hasani’s shade

seemed to be lurking about in a state of puzzlement and the bitterness of Nyria

appeared to cling to the walls of Anubeion.

“I will vanquish her when I am able,” her husband told her. “I want no reminders

of her treachery in my home.”

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That her husband could read her thoughts did not surprise Catherine. She now

knew who it was Kaelin, Holly and Nyria had been listening to when their eyes took on

a strange intensity.

“When I get you settled, I will write the missive,” she told him. “Worry about

nothing but resting.”

After she and Rajab had Khenty safely in a guestroom bed, she watched him close

his eyes and go to sleep almost as soon as his head touched his pillow. She tucked the

covers around him then walked out of the room ahead of Rajab.

“Have you thought of a good man to become our apprentice?” she asked the

Medjai.

“Several have volunteered,” Rajab said as they descended the stairs. “I will let His

Grace choose whichever one he thinks best.”

Long after Rajab himself had left with the letter—not willing to risk anything so

important with anyone else—Catherine sat in a chair by her husband’s bed and listened

to his soft snore. She could feel Nyria in the room but ignored the shade, despising her

for the murder of five good people. Each time a cool blast of clammy air touched the

nape of her neck, she knew the black woman was hovering close, trying to unnerve her,

desperately trying to make Catherine leave the room.

“He is mine and mine he will stay,” Catherine mumbled to the troubled spirit.

“And when he is able, he will cast your soul to the Abyss for what you’ve done.”

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Chapter Twelve

Although Rajab and his men had washed the bodies of the tribunalist, Holly and

Silus, Jacob and Hasani, Catherine did so again but with special herbs and spices that

her husband directed her to use. Holly’s body then Silus’ were prepared first and in a

different way than those of the three other men. When she lay in her casket in the most

beautiful gown Catherine had ordered three seamstresses to make—the three working

all night to fashion the satin gown—Holly looked as though she were smiling, the

embalming art of Khenty Ben-Alkazar making the worn face of the cook look twenty

years younger in death.

It was a small group that traveled to the harbor to see Holly and Silus off on their

final journey. Rajab was sitting beside the driver of the buggy that was carrying the

prince and his lady to the harbor. Lord Kaelin McGregor rode his big roan stallion

beside the coach. Behind them was the wagon laden with the expensive coffins carrying

Holly and Silus’ earthly remains.

Coming back to Anubeion later that day, Catherine could tell her husband was not

feeling well. There was still residual poison from the vicious creature who had bitten

him lurking about in his system and she insisted he was to take a nap as soon as they

entered their temporary bedchamber.

“We need to see to—” he began, but she shushed him by placing the tips of her