Blaze (12 page)

"Torn is improving."

In the courtyard, Torn and Honey Wine paused and glanced up at the window. Torn smiled and Honey Wine waved. Blaze returned the wave, but was unable to force a smile.

"You and his wife had been attentive healers,” Mahir said.

Honey Wine had taken a leave from her political duties to remain with Torn at the Ruby Order while he recovered. Thank the Spirit he had finally regained his ability to walk.

Blaze spent much of his time working with Torn and teaching Honey Wine to help him with the regimen of exercises and massages. It often kept his mind off the spirits who constantly hovered and incessantly accused. Not that he didn't deserve the accusations.

"You're very loyal to him and to the rest of us, but what about yourself, Blaze?" Mahir stood and touched his son's arm. "I realize you broke an important vow, but you did it in self defense. Those warriors were trying to kill you and Torn and take a village that didn't belong to them."

"The end cannot justify the means."

"If you weren't the best healer and hand-to-hand fighter I've ever known, I would have suggested you didn't enter the Knighthood at all."

"I don't blame you for having regrets."

"I have no regrets for the reasons you probably think. I'm concerned about you. You look terrible.

Too thin. Pale. You look like you haven’t slept in weeks. You've been home almost a month. I fear Torn will surrender his canes before you discard the emotional crutch you've been leaning on. You broke a vow. You killed. Live with the guilt if you must, but get on with your life. Lead your faction, Blaze, if not for those who depend on you, then for yourself."

Blaze looked deeply into Mahir's eyes. His father simply didn't understand. He couldn't, and Blaze refused to tell him. Perhaps the spirits would eventually grow tired of haunting him and leave him

alone.

"Have you heard from your betrothed?" Mahir asked.

No. The messages are probably slow because of where she's located."

"Your next assignment is in the Northern Continent, is it not?"

Blaze nodded. He planned to help Crag and Colt build an infirmary in a new settlement.

"Maybe you should stop by her village and see her while you're headed that way?"

"Perhaps."

* * *

Dinner in the great hall at Rubyshire was usually a pleasant event. Many of the Knights, apprentices, and their families who lived within the fortress gathered at the long wooden tables to talk and enjoy the evening meal.

Since returning from the battle, Blaze had avoided mealtime in the great hall. The spirits usually did their worst when he was in the company of others. They stabbed his companions with phantom

swords that often looked all too real. Several times he'd made physical attempts to stop attacks only to be met with looks of fear and annoyance from those around him.

Tonight, however, he attended supper at Mahir's request. When he arrived at the hall, most everyone had taken their places at the table. The delicious scent of smoked meat, baked apples, and fresh bread filled the room. Blaze had always taken great pleasure in eating. Melody was amused by how someone so lean and fit had such enthusiasm for food. Lately the twisting ball of nerves in his gut made eating next to impossible.

Gazing around the room, he noted that no hateful spirits were about.

Please, let them be gone for good.

He forced a smile as he approached Mahir's table and took his place on his father's left side. Torn, Honey Wine, and their young daughter sat to Mahir's right. Several other Knights also joined them at the table. They exchanged greetings with Blaze, then continued discussing the day's events.

Blaze was beginning to enjoy the conversation when a troop of armed warriors marched into the hall. His pulse raced and he tensed for battle. Glancing around, he realized no one else had noticed the invaders. They were spirits who once again looked all too real.

Drawing a deep breath, Blaze decided to ignore them.

"I think I'm just about ready to lose the canes," Torn said. "Or at least one of them."

"What do you think, Blaze?" Honey Wine glanced at him.

"Progress is good, but you don't want to rush—" Blaze leapt up as a warrior swung a sword at Torn and Honey Wine's daughter.

"What the hell's wrong?" Sir Rain, a tall, muscular Knight glanced at Blaze from the corner of his eye. The two tawny colored dogs sitting at Rain's feet growled.

"Nothing," Blaze lied. The warriors slashed the Knights, their wives, and their children. The spirits turned on each other, stabbing and slicing. Their blood sprayed the great hall like scarlet rain.

Killer. Killer. Killer.

Excusing himself, Blaze hurried out of the hall to his herbarium. More spirits awaited him there.

They were smothering him so that he could scarcely breathe and hardly think.

He tried mixing herbs, hoping that if he concentrated on a task he could block out his haunters, yet their voices only grew louder.

Poison. Add some poison to your potions.

Murderer.

"Shut up!" Blaze roared, flinging the basin of herbs at one of his tormenters. It flew through the ghost and shattered several glass bottles on a shelf. He tore out of the herbarium before he destroyed that, too, and opted for a trip to the private training field used by the Green Sash

Faction. Perhaps exercise would help thrust the ghosts from his mind. Focus. Concentration.

He had tried using all the meditation techniques he had learned from Master Etah so long ago, yet nothing helped. The dead could not be silenced, not when they wished to be heard.

In the field, he leapt into a mock battle with unbridled ferocity. He struck, kicked, and practiced every acrobatic movement he'd ever learned. Rather than fading, the spirits grew stronger. They

surrounded him, as they had on the day he'd killed them. They attacked and he defended himself.

Except now they never stopped. Each time they fell, they rose again with greater strength. Their wicked smiles taunted him. Their eyes glowed within blood streaked faces.

"Leave me," Blaze bellowed. "Shut up! Or kill me. I don't care anymore!"

"Blaze!" a familiar voice shouted.

Torn.

"They won't leave me!" He couldn't see his brother through the mass of bodies.

"Who?"

"Sir!" This time it was Crag's voice.

Hands reached for him. He grasped a wrist and twisted an arm. Bone snapped and a grunt of pain echoed through the courtyard.

Suddenly the spirits melted into a loose circle surrounding Blaze and Crag who was struggling to his feet, holding his wrist.

Lock, Colt, and Rain took Blaze's moment of distraction to knock him onto the grass and pin him immobile.

The warrior spirits laughed.

Panting, his very soul aching, Blaze glanced at his companions’ concerned faces. "They won't leave."

"Yes, we got that part," Rain said, still pinning one of Blaze's arms to the ground. Colt held the other.

"Who the fuck won't leave you alone?" roared Lock, his massive body pinning down Blaze's legs.

"Crag, are you. . ."

"It's all right, Sir Blaze." Crag glanced at his wrist. "I think it's a clean break."

"It's the spirits, isn't it?" Torn approached.

Nodding, Blaze closed his eyes tightly. Now everyone knew. It was better that he no longer kept it a secret, for it appeared the safety of others was at stake.

Chapter Seven

Melody knew the moment she glanced at Blaze's letter that something was wrong. His usually flowing penmanship looked rushed, agitation reflected in every stroke, and the words were not like his. There was no beauty to them. No emotion. Still, the feelings he hadn't written of cried out to her.

He was hurt. In pain. She sensed it. When Tara confirmed it, Melody knew she had to go to him.

Her work in the village was just about finished. The infirmary was built, and two other Dames had arrived to help instruct the local midwives.

A day after receiving his message, she headed back to Travelle and to the man she loved most in the world. If only the message hadn't taken so long to reach her. By the date he had scrawled on the parchment, it had been written nearly three weeks ago.

Maybe whatever crisis had affected him was past.

Don't count on it, honey,
Tara warned as Melody walked along the sand towards the dock where she planned to board the next ship headed for Travelle.

"Tara, if you know more and you're not telling me—"

I know what I know.

Melody raised her eyes to heaven. "That makes sense."

Look, the spirits who hang with him don't always like to talk, or should I say talk in language I understand.

"Hang with?" Melody wrinkled her nose. "I'm not surprised you don't understand each other.

What sort of term is that?”

I don’t know. Maybe it's an old expression. Or one that hasn't started yet. It's confusing in this realm, sweetie. Why do you think I like being with you so much? You remind me what it's like to be of the

flesh. Especially when you make love to that gorgeous auburn-haired hunk of Knighthood.

"Will you please try to tell me something helpful. Blaze could be in trouble."

Oh he is. I think he's one sheep shy of a herd, sweetie. From what I understand, he has some nasty spirits latching onto him.

"Do you think we can help him?"

We? As in you and me?

"Tara, this is serious."

I know. I just hate contact with warriors from hell.

"Warriors from hell?"

The evil ones. Now if you want to get on that ship, I'd stop talking to me out loud. No one will give passage to a madwoman.

Melody sighed. Tara was right. Plagued by worried thoughts about Blaze, she approached the

dock. What in the world had happened to him?

"Headed to Travelle?" Melody shouted to a man standing on the deck of a small cargo ship.

"Yes, Dame. Looking for passage?"

"How much?"

"The price of a good healer for some of my crew's minor injuries?"

"Done."

"Then come aboard. If this good weather holds, we'll be in Travelle by morning."

* * *

Melody knew things were dreadfully wrong when she reached the Ruby Order's fortress and asked the guards where she could find Blaze.

"You should speak with Sir Mahir. I'll see that your horse gets taken care of," said one of the guards. He called to a young boy scattering feed to chickens. "Escort the Dame to Sir Mahir's chamber."

Her heart pounding, Melody followed the boy through the great hall and up the staircase. The scent of food cooking in the kitchens should have tantalized her after her long journey, but she scarcely noticed it. She was vaguely aware of the people going about their daily chores, but all her thoughts focused on Blaze. Was he ill, or worse, dead?

Tara, where are you when I need you?

I'm here, sweetie. He's not dead.

Pausing in front of a door at the end of a long hallway, the boy knocked. "Sir Mahir? Dame Melody is with me."

"Come in."

The boy held open the door for Melody.

"Thank you, Brook." Mahir nodded to the boy in dismissal.

Once they were alone, Melody asked, "Where is Blaze? I know something is wrong. I could tell by his letter. Is he all right?"

"I’m afraid not."