Guardian's Challenge (10 page)

Asher could barely swallow past the lump in his throat as he crushed Neeve against his body. As the sun rose, he’d feared he’d find her body floating in the waves or crumpled on the shore, lifeless and broken. The relief spiraling through him was greater than anything he’d ever experienced, and for a moment, he could barely breathe.

Lifting his head, he gazed down at her. Her lips were blue tinged and dark crescents marred the skin beneath her bloodshot eyes. Her normally silken hair was a knotted mess with bits of seaweed tangled into the mass and glazed with salt, but he’d never seen a more beautiful sight. She shivered almost violently in his arms as they left the water, and he didn’t miss the longing in her gaze as she spied the fire crackling further down the shore.

Joseph followed her line of vision. “Of those who survived, at least half blame the wreck on having a woman on board. It’s best if we stay out of their way.”

Asher muttered his agreement.

She nodded mutely, her head slumping against his chest and her eyes dropping closed. He’d almost lost her. They’d searched for hours—diving under the waves and the debris, searching the bodies of those who’d perished. It seemed ridiculous that most sailors couldn’t swim, but thank the gods Neeve could. He didn’t know what he’d do if he’d lost her.

Still holding her closely, he settled onto a huge piece of driftwood while Joseph gathered smaller pieces to use for a fire. It was unlikely that the remaining crewmen would have enough energy to attack her, but he didn’t want to risk it by bringing her over there. They’d have her warm again soon enough. And he’d never let her out of his sight again.

She stirred briefly, before settling against his chest again, her fingers opening and closing against his skin, her breath warming his flesh. Her spirit melted the cold rock his heart had become since she’d left so many months ago. He smoothed a hand over her snarled hair, unable to keep from touching her. He noticed more things as he stared at her. The gash by her hairline, the bruise on her temple. Discolored flesh peeked above the neckline of her dress, and he could only imagine the cuts and bruises that lay beneath her ruined clothing.

Neeve continued to sleep the slumber born of exhaustion while Joseph managed to get a small fire going on the beach. Asher had a moment’s guilt for not helping his friend, but he couldn’t force himself to let go of her—even for a moment.

Looking up from the woman lying in his arms, Asher recognized the ship’s captain trudging toward them, followed by several soldiers on horseback. The colors of the Pryderi warriors were unmistakable. Asher rose, and Neeve woke in his arms. Noticing the approaching riders, she struggled to get to her feet. He reluctantly lowered her to the ground but kept his arm around her.

She seemed so weak, he wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to remain standing.

The haggard looking captain gestured to Neeve. “This is the healer Maelgwn sent.” The bitterness in the man’s voice was unmistakable.

One of the warriors nudged his mount forward and addressed Neeve. “Our lords command your presence. You will return with us now.”

Before Asher could respond, Neeve’s chin rose slightly as she held the other man’s gaze. “Of course. My mates and I would happy to accompany you. I assume you’ve brought mounts for us?”

Asher bit back a smile at her tone while she watched the man expectantly. They stared at her for a moment before turning to bark out orders to his troops. Two men dismounted and brought their horses to the front of the line.

The warrior who’d been speaking to them nodded toward the animals. “Mount up and follow us.”

Asher helped Neeve onto a horse’s back and climbed up behind her while Joseph smothered the fire. He quickly mounted, and they followed the contingent of Pryderi soldiers up the rocky incline, away from the shore.

* * * *

Neeve bit her lip. The jolting of the horse beneath her jarred every painfully sore muscle in her body. If Asher and Joseph were as miserable as she was, they didn’t give any indication. Asher kept her snugly between the cradle of his thighs while both men scanned the soldiers and the countryside.

She felt the tension in Asher’s body. He wasn’t any happier with their escort than she was. The sooner she healed the rulers’ children, the sooner they could leave this place and the better she’d feel.

“Faster!” the warrior who’d first made contact with them bellowed. He galloped to the rear of the party. “We’ve wasted too much time searching for you. Our lords await the healer.”

“The ship sank,” Joseph began. “That can hardly be considered our—”

“Ride faster.”

Asher took a breath as if he would speak, but she laid a hand on his thigh. “Don’t fight it. The sooner we get there, the quicker we can leave.”

And she’d return to her home among the Hafan people, leaving Asher to his post in Maelgwn. She closed her eyes against the pain that thought brought her. Leaving him the first time had been heartrending. She wasn’t sure she’d survive it a second time. She swallowed past the thick knot in her swollen throat.

Asher snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her to rest against his chest as his lips brushed her ear. “I’m worried about you. You’re in no condition to heal anyone.”

Truth be told, she was concerned that she might not be able to summon the power as exhausted as she was, but what choice did she have? “I’m fine,” she lied. “Just a little tired.”

“Close your eyes and rest as best you can. I’ll make sure you don’t fall.”

She doubted it would do any good, but she lay back in his embrace and allowed her eyelids to fall closed. The rhythmic sway of the horse was almost relaxing, lulling her into a near hypnotic state. But the clatter of hooves on stone quickly drove away any sense of rest. The sound grated against her ears, reminding her of what was at stake. The realization that all of her carefully gathered supplies were ruined by seawater and likely lying at the bottom of the ocean hit her. She hoped the keep had a fully stocked storeroom. And plants she recognized.

The party raced under the arch leading to the keep, heedless of the people traveling on foot. The drawbridge had been lowered, and the horses sped across it, the clomping echoing against the stone walls.

Several people paced anxiously in front of the heavy wooden doors that led through the interior wall surrounding the keep. As the horses slowed to a halt, two huge men scanned the riders before heading directly toward her. Worry tightened her belly into a knot.

“Stay on the horse,” Asher murmured in her ear as he dismounted, blocking the men’s way.

The larger of the two men stepped forward. “This is the healer?” he asked no one in particular.

Before she or Asher could answer, a chorus of, “Yes, m’lord,” went up from the warriors surrounding them.

Asher faced the man, meeting his gaze. “I would request some time for my mate to recover before attempting to heal—”

The other man shook his head, interrupting. “There is no time.”

With a frown, Asher turned and lifted her from the horse’s back as Joseph dismounted as well. With both of her “mates” flanking her, she followed the leaders through a warren of brightly lit passageways into the heart of the keep and a dark, windowless room heavy with the sour scent of sweat and sickness.

She turned to the man who’d first approached them in the courtyard. “My supplies went down with the ship. I’ll do what I can now, but later, I’ll need to check your storerooms for anything useful. For now, I need fresh water—both hot and cold, clean cloths and more light.”

The man barked orders at the attendants in the room, and they scurried to do his bidding as he knelt between the two pallets in the center of the room. Two little boys, maybe nine or ten, lay pale and listless on sweat soaked sheets. He spoke to them in quiet, soothing tones. Her heart ached at the anguish in his voice.

The second man from the courtyard turned to Neeve, blocking her view of the others. “You have to save them.”

Nervousness tightened her throat, but she forced herself to speak. “I’ll do my best.”

He nodded his head toward the other man. “Tyr has barely left their bedside.”

Neeve studied the man before her. He looked just as exhausted as Tyr. “I’ll do everything I can.”

“Thank you,” he murmured. “I’ll make sure you have everything you need.”

Wishing she’d at least had been able to wash, she tried to put aside her discomfort, approached the children and began to examine them. “What can you tell me about their illness?”

Tyr looked at her, his gaze worry-shadowed and weary. “They became ill around the time of the last full moon. Both boys got sick at once. At first, Alarik thought they’d eaten something that had gone bad,” he said, nodding toward the other man. “But instead of getting better, they only got worse. It’s already taken their mother.” He swallowed past his grief. “Please, we can’t lose them, too.”

As the man talked, Neeve assessed the children. They were both dehydrated and running high fevers. It was hard to see in the dim light, but both boys’ skin tone looked almost grayish. Closing her eyes, she laid her hands on the center of each child’s chest and expanded her awareness out of her own body and into theirs.

She recoiled immediately at the energy from the poison that permeated their little bodies. “Is anyone else in the household sick?” she whispered to Tyr.

He shook his head.

She closed her eyes and placed her hands over them again. Dropping her guards, she let her energy flow from her body to the boys’. She heard the man next to her gasp. She knew what he saw—a golden glow flowing from her hands into the children’s chests and spreading along their limbs. The pure healing energy slowly absorbed the toxins eating through their insides.

Pulling it out of the children, she drew it into her own body. She had no idea how long she worked on them. It might have been mere moments or perhaps hours. But eventually, she pulled all of the contaminants from their bodies.

Already weak, the poisons coursing through her veins weakened her further. She placed her hands on the floor and released the toxins into the hewn stone. Slowly, it drained from her body, but the residue left her exhausted and shaky.

Lifting her head, she met the man’s gaze and whispered, “Your children are being poisoned.”

His eyes widened as the realization that his mate had been murdered sank in. He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, she laid her hand on his arm.

“Please don’t say anything yet,” she murmured. “There’s a chance that whoever did this will try again.”

His lips drew together, and he looked as though he might explode in rage, but fear lurked beneath.

“Is there anyone you can think of who’d want to harm your children…and your mate?”

“There are always enemies, but none who would have access to them.”

“The easiest way is through food and drink. You’ll need to be especially vigilant. Only let your most trusted people near their food. You may even want to see to it yourself.”

His expression of shock and disgust told her all she needed to know. He might love his children, but he thought himself above such menial tasks.

Both boys stirred, drawing their attention.

“Papa?” the smaller one asked, his voice wavering.

“I’m here,” Tyr murmured, relief evident in his expression as he smoothed the boy’s sweat-matted hair off his forehead.

Neeve filled a cup with water and held it to the other child’s lips, propping him up to help him drink. “Not too much,” she said as he greedily swallowed the fluid.

Within a few minutes of the healing, both boys were sitting up and looking almost as if they’d never been sick. Only the dark circles below their eyes and their general pallor indicated they’d ever been anything less than healthy. They certainly didn’t look as though they’d been at death’s door.