would soon become suspicious and realize I was not what you
claim.”
“You flirt with danger, woman. If the people below discover
your identity, they will tear you limb from limb. I doubt even I
could keep you safe from their wrath.”
Fists clenched at his side, he towered above her. Though
she could not read his emotions, his body told the tale clearly. If
he touched her now, his feelings of fury and frustration would
swamp her.
He stalked her across the small space and stopped when
they were a breath apart. “You will do as I say.”
She backed away until the bed blocked her retreat. “No.”
Ducking past him, she scurried around the table and faced him.
“But I will give you my word of honor I will not try to escape.
Nor will I cause harm to any here.”
“Honor?” He snorted. “What would DiSanti’s daughter
know of honor? Like the nika plant, the flower is just as deadly
as the root.”
“Perhaps, but the nika root is a powerful anesthetic as well
as a deadly poison. Roasted and blended with other herbs, the
flower makes a drawing poultice. Only when eaten raw does
the flower enslave its victims. Do not be quick to condemn
something because of its misuse by another. In the right hands,
the nika plant can do good rather than evil. I am not my father.
Trust your instincts.”
She held her breath while he deliberated.
After a moment, his body lost its rigid stance as he admitted
defeat on this point. “You are right. I cannot keep you under
lock and key without raising suspicions, nor can I keep you
always at my side. But...”
His sudden smile made Sianna nervous.
“...perhaps I have the next best thing. A guard.”
“Guard?”
Kyne gave a soft whistle. From a dark corner next to the
chamber’s fireplace a shape rose and lumbered forward into
the light. A sense of approaching menace slid over Sianna as
the beast came into view, its claws clicking against the stone
floor.
Though no taller than the wolve hounds below, this creature
possessed twice their bulk and muscle. Yawning, it revealed a
muzzle filled with long, yellowed teeth. Its mouth shut with a
snap. Deep-set, intelligent eyes watched her with interest.
“Warda, guard her,” Kyne told the beast. “From now on
Warda will be your constant companion. Attempt to leave the
castle grounds, and he will restrain you. And beware. Unlike
me, his bite is much worse than his bark.”
After Kyne left the chamber, Warda stared longingly at the
door, then turned his attention to Sianna. She felt his curiosity
and caution.
Kyne had chosen his guard well. Warda would not question
Kyne’s order, nor speak of it to others.
Still, exhilaration rushed through her. She’d won the freedom
to move around the castle and grounds.
Triumph was short lived. A tired sigh slipped through her
lips as she sat down at the table. The task ahead loomed large
and daunting. Healing took an immense toll on a healer, both
mental and physical. Did she have the strength and courage to
help these people?
Warda’s head in her lap shook Sianna from doubt and
inadequacy. His dark, liquid eyes seemed to say, “You will do
what you must, no matter the cost.”
FOUR
Cool, damp air swirled around Kyne as the door to his
chamber clicked shut behind him. One lamp cast deep shadows
in the empty hall. Below he could hear the muffled sounds of
people settling for the night and smell the lingering aroma of
last meal. Weariness dragged at him, but he needed to see to
the welfare of his people. During his and Graham’s absence,
confusion had fallen over the castle. Security and order had to
be restored before he could seek his bed. Once there, he
expected to find little rest. The image of DiSanti’s daughter in
his room banished all hope of sleep.
Someone lurked in the shadows. How he knew, Kyne
couldn’t say, but many times he’d sensed the presence of another
had saved his life. Though he gave no outward sign, Kyne tensed,
waiting for the person to identify himself and offer a reason for
his presence. No one stepped forward into the light. Who hid in
the shadows outside his chamber? His fingers closed around
the handle of his knife, and he slipped silently out from under
the lamp’s glow.
He paused. Guided by instinct, he whirled around and
pounced on the intruder, pinning him against the wall, a knife at
his throat. The person grunted at the impact of Kyne’s body,
but offered no resistance.
“Je’al?” Kyne loosened his grip, but kept his knife poised
at the younger man’s throat. “What are you doing here? Did
you plan to finish what you started?” Stepping back, Kyne pulled
Je’al into the light. “The woman is a valuable pawn. I
overlooked your first attempt on her life, but I cannot allow you
to succeed, nor can I allow you to disregard direct orders. Speak
up, man, what are you about?”
“You’re right, Rul. I foolishly let my emotions guide my
actions with the woman. As much as I wish her dead, I realize
now she is more valuable to us alive.”
“Then why are you skulking outside my chamber?”
“I want to volunteer.”
“Volunteer for what?”
“Someone will have to deliver your message about his
daughter to DiSanti. I want to be that someone.”
Kyne sheathed his knife and studied the young man. At ten
and seven annum, Je’al had a man’s build, but despite the trauma
of his young life, he was yet a boy. “It is too dangerous. DiSanti
is apt to kill any messenger I send.”
“Let me do this. Aubin was my friend. He saved me from
death at the hands of DiSanti’s men and from despair when my
family fell. I could not protect Aubin, but I can do my part to
see justice done. Who else would you send? Graham or one of
the older men? They are needed to train the others. Which of
your men is expendable?”
Je’al was right. Someone needed to convey the message
to DiSanti, and whoever did so faced the possibility of death.
“Very well. Tomorrow I will draft my letter to DiSanti, and you
will carry it. In the meantime have last meal, a bath and rest.
Speak to no one of the woman. If any were to learn of her
identity, your trip will be for naught. A sardak is not lured from
his lair by dead bait.”
“Thank you, Rul. You’ll not regret your decision.” Je’al
hurried away as if afraid, should he linger, Kyne might change
his mind.
Kyne watched the young man leave. The fact that he found
himself more concerned with the woman’s safety than he did
with Je’al’s bothered him. Other than a means to destroy
DiSanti, she meant nothing to him. He would do well to
remember that her f
ragile appearance and gentle ways hid a
soul as black as her father’s. Her denial of guilt, her claim of
being a healer and wishing to help his people, were nothing but
clever lies designed to deceive him. He couldn’t let his unwanted
lust for the woman sway his decisions.
“Why do you haunt the hall?” Graham’s voice came out of
the darkness.
Lost in his thoughts of the woman, Kyne had let Graham
approach without detection. She was dangerous in more ways
than the obvious. “Je’al was here.”
“Where is he now? Is she unharmed?”
Even Graham thought first of their captive’s safety.
“He volunteered to carry my message to DiSanti.”
“But that will be suicide.”
“Perhaps not if we word the message correctly. Come,
we’ll use your chamber to draft my letter. Je’al leaves at first
light.”
“Have you decided how best to use the woman against her
father?”
“I believe I have.”
***
Sianna stroked Warda’s shaggy head and looked over at
the bed. “You can come out now, Zoa.” Warda padded back to
his spot near the hearth and settled down. How much of what
she’d heard would the child understand? Sianna probed, but
sensed no hostility.
The bed covers rustled, and Zoa’s tousled head popped up.
She yawned as if just awakening. “How did you know I was
here?”
“It’s a little trick I have. I can always tell when someone is
near.”
“How?” The little girl scrambled off the bed and trotted
over to Sianna’s side. She panted at the effort.
“Well, you know how you can smell if a person has bathed
or not, or if they’re wearing scent?”
Edging nearer, Zoa nodded, her gaze rapt with interest.
“People also give off emotions, and I have a nose for it,”
Sianna continued.
Zoa leaned close and put her hand out to Sianna. “What do
I smell like?”
“Let’s see.” Sianna took Zoa’s hand and sniffed it. “Hmmm.
I can’t quite tell.”
“Maybe I need to be closer.” With that the girl climbed into
Sianna’s lap. “Can you tell now?”
The feel of the little girl’s warm, slight weight filled Sianna
with a strange longing as well as a feeling of contentment.
Enfolding Zoa in her embrace, Sianna nestled her nose into
Zoa’s silky hair and breathed deeply. “You smell of sunshine
and laughter. Good smells for the nose and the heart.”
Zoa wrinkled her nose and giggled. “You smell like quinar.
Can I learn to smell people’s emotions, too?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never tried to teach anyone to do it.”
“Father says I learn quick. I can do sums better than Etam,
but,” she added with a flash of honesty, “he reads better than
me. I’ll work real hard.”
Sianna wasn’t sure if her talent could be taught, but time
spent with the little girl wouldn’t be wasted. Like a fetid mist,
the scent of illness hung over Zoa. If allowed, Sianna knew she
could help Zoa’s lungs become whole again.
Zoa snuggled close. “I’m glad you’re here. Etam says
Father gets lonely because he sleeps alone. I get scared when
I sleep alone. Father is so brave, I don’t think he gets scared.”
“Everyone is afraid at times.”
“Do you get scared?”
“Often.”
Soft fingers patted Sianna’s arm. “You’re safe now. Father
will protect you.” Zoa spoke with the confidence of childhood.
“He’s going to save everyone from the evil monster man and
his ugly daughter.”
Zoa’s words flayed Sianna’s heart. If the child understood
the truth, she would hate Sianna. As would the other people
below. The thought of that much hatred aimed at her made
Sianna shudder. Their thoughts alone would destroy her. The
enormity of the task she set herself loomed before her.
A coughing spell ended Zoa’s declarations. Breath wheezed
through the girl’s blue lips as she struggled for air. Instinctively,
Sianna reached for her.
To attempt a healing now was beyond foolish. Fatigue and
hunger already sapped Sianna’s strength. A healing would leave
her weaker still, but she didn’t fight her urge to assist. Splaying
her fingers across Zoa’s back, Sianna shut her eyes. Warmth
radiated from her hand as she concentrated on seeing Zoa’s
illness. Colors swirled behind her eyelids, then a thick grey sludge
crept across her vision, obscuring the pleasant kaleidoscope.
A prickly sensation shot up Sianna’s arm and lanced through
her chest. She gasped. Time ceased to have meaning as she
absorbed into herself the disease destroying Zoa’s tiny lungs.
Finally, Zoa’s spasms passed, and she leaned limply against
Sianna’s chest. Though not yet completely healed, already Zoa
breathed easier. A flush of healthy pink replaced the blue tinge
around her eyes and mouth.
The little girl stirred and blinked in confusion. “I have to go
now. Grenna gets mad if I’m late for bed.” Zoa slipped off
Sianna’s lap and made her way to the door. “Can I visit you
again?” she asked shyly.
Too breathless to speak, Sianna smiled and nodded. Seconds
later the girl was gone, leaving Sianna alone again with Warda.
As if he understood, Warda moved back to her side, his yellow
eyes watching her with concern.
Never before had a healing taken so much of her, left her
so drained. Then never had she attempted to heal with so little
in reserve. These last few days of fear and hardship had taken
their toll, leaving her unfit to use her skills. The Sisters had
often cautioned her to practice restraint in the use of her talent,
to give a little at a time rather than all at once, to build her
strength before attempting to heal, but when she touched Zoa,
prudence had fled in front of need.
Bit by bit, the tight band around her chest loosened, her
breathing eased as she struggled to regain equilibrium. She had
given too much, too fast to recover quickly, but she couldn’t
regret the healing she gave the child. Zoa would live, and given
time, Sianna would regain her strength.
How much time did she have?
Heavy with fatigue, Sianna’s eyelids drooped and her head
nodded forward.
Warda whined and nudged her hand. The feel of his cold,
wet nose roused her to stagger the few steps along with him to
his place by the hearth and curl up on his rug. When he curved
his shaggy body behind her, she sighed softly, but sleep evaded
her long into the night as she coped with the aches and pains of
an ill-planned healing and worry for her future.
***
Last meal was long over before Kyne left Graham and
made his way toward his room. Even the crowded main hall
was quiet. Only the occasional murmur of a mother to a restless
child broke the silence. The fire burnt low, casting flickering
shadows over the p
eople sleeping nearby, while the rest of the
hall lay in darkness.
The greasy, undercooked meat and soggy, overcooked
vegetables arranged on the tray he carried looked less than
appetizing and tasted worse. But it was all he could find in the
chaos that reigned in the castle’s kitchen. Waste ran rampant.
Something needed to be done, or they would deplete what stores
they had long before winter set in.
Tomorrow he would consider this problem along with the
others facing him. For now, he wanted to return to the meager
comfort of his chamber and find what rest he could. At the
door he paused. Rest? As long as she remained, he would find
little rest within. Did she even now sleep in his bed? The thought
of her slim body lying where he had lain made him shift in
sudden discomfort.
Anger surged through him. He refused to allow her presence
to disturb him—in any way. Uncaring of the lateness of the
hour, he shoved open the door and stomped into the room. His
gaze flew toward the bed. The empty bed. The empty room.
She was gone.
He slammed the tray on the table and started to turn back
toward the door. The little fool! Alone on the mountain she
didn’t stand a chance of survival. If the elements didn’t claim
her, a wild animal or some renegade would. Despite the risk,
when he found her he’d put her under lock and key, if only for
her own safety.
Warda’s low whine made him pause, and he saw her nestled
against the beast.
Relief replaced rage. Kyne refused to examine the fear he
had felt when he thought her in danger.
“Stay, Warda.” He knelt next to the hound and looked at
the sleeping woman. Still wearing Graham’s coat, knees to her
chest, she huddled there. How innocent she appeared.
Over the odor of quinar and wood smoke coming from her
clothing, Kyne caught a lighter scent, reminiscent of a field of
wild flowers after a summer shower. Fresh and clean, the smell
tugged at him, luring him closer.
Moonlight streamed into the chamber, bathing her pale flesh
in a blue-white glow. Dark shadows circled her closed eyes.
Like a veil of tangled black silk, her hair lay around her shoulders
and down her back.
The heavy mass tempted him. Would it feel as soft as it
looked?