WINDDREAMER (14 page)

Liza stood outside Regan's room and stared at the door. She had come here several times over the last few hours, wanting to enter and wanting to flee at the same time. She could sense the boy's confusion and pain, and truly wanted to help, but the knowledge of what he had done to the man she loved turned her soft heart to stone. She tried to tell herself she felt no pity for the child, considering who had borne him and taught him the hate that compelled him to strike out at Conar; but her motherly instincts, stronger than her anger toward Raja, told her differently. With her courage screwed into a tight ball, she twisted the door handle, not giving herself time to stall.

Three hours passed before Conar finally returned to the keep. His eyes strayed to the front door, half expecting Liza to storm outside, dagger in hand. But her not being there was worse. His eyes lifted to their room, but he didn't see her glowering down at him.

Instead, his eyes met Regan's. He stared up at the boy, their gazes fused, until Regan flinched and looked behind him as though someone had called his name. The boy moved out of sight.

Conar continued to stare at the window, willing the boy to return. When he didn't, Conar sighed. He slid down from his steed and patted the beast's backside. A stable boy threw a rope over the animal's neck.

"Give extra care, Matt. He's a valiant runner," Conar said, smiling.

"Did you have a good romp, Milord?" Jah-Ma-El asked as he casually walked toward his brother. His finger marked a place in the large tome of poetry that he never seemed to be without.

A guilty grin spread over Conar's lips. "Aye, I did. Will you do me a favor and let Liza know I'm back?"

Jah-Ma-El's chin lifted; his eyes glowed. "Oh, she already knows you're back!"

"Is she mad?"

"You'll find out soon enough."

Conar frowned. Aye, he thought, the lady was mad.

He turned and saw Holm sauntering toward him. With an apologetic look, he held up a hand. "I'll make sure she understands it was my doing and not yours, Holm."

The sea captain's brows drew together. He shook his shaggy head. "No, it's not that."

"If it's about Regan having stowed away on your ship," Conar said, "I don't hold you responsible."

"It ain't about that, either, but I'm glad you ain't mad. It's about du Mer."

Conar saw the concern on Holm's beefy face. "What's Teal done?"

"Nothing that I know of. It's just...well, it's about..." He stopped, seemed to gather his courage. "It's about him and my Jenny."

Knowing things had escalated between the couple, Conar nodded. "You want me to have a talk with him? Find out his intentions?"

"Oh, I know the little prick's intentions!" Holm grimaced. "He came to me last eve, almost before I had my bags unpacked, to ask for Jenny's hand."

Conar's brow shot upward in surprise. "It's gone that far?"

"I'm afraid so." Holm looked out across the courtyard. "I like the little bugger, don't get me wrong, and Jenny is head over heels about him. I just have a question or two about the lad, that's all."

"Such as?" Conar bent down to dust off his breeches.

Holm took a deep breath and turned his eyes to Conar. "Can he control that infernal gambling?"

"To Teal, gambling is a way of life. He doesn't lose all that much, but he tends to cheat, as I'm sure others have told you." He watched the frown deepen on Holm's face. "But if you told him the only way he could have Jenny to wife is if he gave up gambling altogether, he just might go for it." Conar smiled. "It depends on how much he loves her."

"I think he loves her about as much as she does him." Holm raked his blunt fingers through his hair and sat on the keep's steps. "I never thought to hear my Jenny talk again or be as happy as she is with du Mer. You should see the cow eyes she makes at that boy!" Holm rolled his own eyes. "It's disgusting. But Mary and me have never seen her as carefree as she is. Teal du Mer has been a godsend to her."

"Teal's never grown up," Conar admitted, joining Holm on the steps. "That's the best kind of man for Jenny, don't you think? I knew from the moment they met they were going to be a part of each other." He laid a hand on Holm's shoulder. "I have a good feeling about this match. I think you can trust Teal to be a loving and faithful husband. It's taken him a good long while to find what he's been searching for, and I think that was Jenny van de Lar."

Holm sighed. "I think so, too."

"Is something else bothering you about the match, then?" Conar asked, searching his friend's eyes.

"Remember when you and him were boys?"

Conar nodded, puzzled by the pained look in Holm's eyes.

"Well, you and Legion, and sometimes Brelan, you'd all go sailing with me." Holm stared at the guard tower. "Du Mer never went but that one time."

A sudden light went on in Conar's mind. He smiled, but ducked his head to keep Holm from seeing it. "I remember."

"He ain't got no better at sailing, has he?" Holm turned to see Conar laughing. "I didn't think so. Me, a sailing man, with a son-in-law who can't abide the sea." He sighed. "It's just not to be borne, is it?"

"Well, look at it this way. It's better than a sharp stick in the eye."

Regan had been sitting in his narrow window seat all morning. He had watched his father race across the meadow that ran beside the winding stream to the north of the keep. He had hugged his knees to his chest and rested his chin on them, never letting his father and the magnificent horse out of sight. His mind was not on what he was watching, but rather the coming anger that he knew his father would settle on his shoulders when he returned to find him.

When Conar had ridden into the courtyard and saw Regan watching him, there had been no change on the man's face, no anger in the dark eyes. There hadn't even been a lowering of his brows. As the door to his room opened, he flinched, and his eyes went wide with fear.

The Queen entered and quietly closed the door behind her. Regan lifted his chin in defiance, daring her to yell. She didn't. Instead, she calmly sat on the settee by the fireplace, folded her hands in her lap, and looked at him.

Regan moved across the room as far away from her as the room would allow, never taking his eyes off her, as if she were a pit viper to be kept under close scrutiny. He expected her to berate him, but there was no prim line at her mouth, no tenseness to her posture as she regarded him. It puzzled him. He thought her eyes calm, her manner polite, so decided she was trying to intimidate him through silence.

"I came to talk to you," she finally said, "because I don't believe you knew what you were doing. I don't believe it was your intention--nor was it Kaileel's--that you murder your father. It is also my belief that you were used in a way you don't understand."

Regan didn't answer, but fumbled with the edge of his tunic.

"You have reason to be angry with your father for sending you away. But I think you know it was not him, but your Uncle Brelan, who sent you away before you knew whether your father was sorely wounded or not." She took a deep breath. "Someone should have told you his condition. You must have thought you had killed him."

"I knew I hadn't!" he snapped. "I know things!"

Liza nodded. "I know you do, but you weren't sure, were you?"

He shrugged disdainfully.

"Your father's hatred for your mother, for the things she did, and his loathing of Kaileel Tohre, have tempered his trust and caring for you. He's found it difficult to accept you, as he found it difficult to accept Corbin. It has nothing to do with either you or your brother, but his feelings toward those who manipulated him. He's a proud man."

"He's stubborn! Stubborn and arrogant!"

A faint smile touched her lips. "He is, at times. But then again, most great warriors are."

"And he's churlish!" Regan's eyes narrowed.

Her laugh sounded like a tinkling bell. "I agree. I called him such when he and I first met."

Regan stared at her. "Did he beat you for it?"

Liza shook his head. "How many women do you know of that he has beaten, Regan?" She watched his eyes carefully. "Conar is not a man to take his hand or belt to a female."

"He would the bitch who bore me, if he could!"

A dark blush touched her cheekbones. "I agree. He might if he ever gets his hands on her."

"He ought to kill her..."

She continued speaking in a calm, soothing voice. "Sometimes when he looks at you, he sees the mistakes of his youth, and it angers him. But again, it isn't you with whom he's angry. It's your mother who well deserves his anger. Your fight with Corbin came at a bad time, when he and his brother were at odds. Sending you to Chrystallus was not a punishment."

"Then what was it if
not
punishment, Lady?"

"He feared Tohre had sent you to harm Corbin." She sighed. "I fear we all thought that might have been the reason. It never occurred to any of us that you would try to harm Conar."

Tearing his eyes from hers, Regan looked down, feeling his guilt. "I did what I was told to do."

"I know you did, and he knows you did. He also knows what it is like to be used by both Raja and Kaileel."

He lifted his eyes and peer at her.

"It isn't because he's callous to your feelings, or that he doesn't care about you that makes him shun you. It's just that all has not gone well for him of late, and his mind has been on things he thinks are of more consequence." She shook her head. "That may be wrong. I cannot judge. But if you'll let me, I'll see that he comes to speak with you, hears your side, and judges for himself what is best for you."

"I don't need him!" Regan shouted.

Liza looked down at her hands. "But he needs you."

Regan stomped across the room and glared at her. "What does he need
me
for? He has Corbin. He has that man I met at the harbor!

"You mean Wyn?"

"The one marrying the nigger!"

Liza pursed her lips into a hard line. "That's a horrible word, but I'll address the issue of prejudice with you another time. For now, you must understand that you are as much his son as Corbin or Wyn are."

"But I tried to kill him!"

"Did you? Was that really your intention?"

His face screwed up. He tried to keep tears from coming. "I raised his dagger and pointed it right at his heart." He lifted his hand in parody. "He didn't even try to stop me! He didn't say a word!" His mouth quivered. "He
let
me do it! He
let
me try to kill him, Lady!"

"Do you know why?"

He shook his head and angrily wiped the sleeve of his tunic under his nose.

"Because you are flesh of his flesh, blood of his blood. He realized that he had failed you, and it was
his
punishment he saw in that dagger. He blamed himself for what you were trying to do."

"He hates me!" Regan cried, tears falling from his eyes.

Liza shook her head. "No one hates you."

Regan backed away. "
You
hate me! I tried to kill your lover!"

She held out her arms. "I don't hate you, Regan. I understand why you did what you did. Tohre gave you no choice, didn't he?"

Never had Regan been held by a woman. Not his mother, not the wet nurse who gave her milk in a bottle for one of the priests to feed him. Never had any woman ever offered to hold him, except this lady, who once held him while he cried crocodile tears against her sweet bosom to gain his own ends.

"Come here, son," Liza whispered. "Come here."

He looked deeply into her damp eyes, and through his own tears, saw the gentleness in her face. Her arms--safe, secure, loving--engulfed him. He let his head drop to her shoulder.

"You aren't alone any more," she said. "You're part of this family."

With the tears that became violent sobbing against her chest, he let all the torment and sadness flow out of him. The harder he cried the lighter his heart felt. Her hands gently smoothed over his back, while her crooning voice soothed him.

His own arms went around her, pulling her close, just as he had seen her other children do. As he sobbed, Regan felt his anger vanish, and in its stead, came a sense of having found a place in life--at last.

"Did he talk to you?" Teal asked as he hurried alongside Conar down the corridor. "Did he?"

"Did who?" Conar quipped, looking at Teal's anxious face.

"Did Holm talk to you about me?"

Conar looked at him with a bland expression. "What about you, du Mer?" His lips twitched, but he knew Teal hadn't noticed. He let a scowl come over his face. "Have you been gambling again, du Mer?" Before Teal could speak, Conar held up his hand. "I'd think twice about gambling when it comes to the good Captain. And if you're serious about his daughter, I'd swear on your parents' graves that you won't gamble again. Else I doubt he'll let you continue seeing Jenny."

Teal swallowed hard. "No gambling?"

"Not even a turn of the dice."

A beleaguered look crossed Teal's face. "No dice?"

"And no cards. And something else..."

"What?" Teal sighed, his crestfallen look miserable.

"You ought to try to get over that seasickness of yours."

Teal blanched white. "Why?"

A merry, evil grin touched Conar's mouth. "I think Holm plans for any son-in-law of his to go into shipping with him. I intend to give him
The Ravenwind
when all this is over." He slapped Teal on the shoulder and continued on his way.

"On the water?" Teal called after him. "Sailing? Can't I just manage his office?"

Turning the corner into the solarium, Conar encountered Brelan, giving him a stern look. "That wasn't nice," Saur said.

"Tell me, Bre," Conar said, putting his arm around his brother's shoulder, "are you still afraid of heights?"

Brelan's eyes narrowed. "Aye, what of it?"

"Would you climb, say, thirty feet to gain Amber-lea's hand?"

A look of warning passed over Brelan's face. "If that's what you intend for me--"

"No!" Conar laughed. "But if you had to do it to win her, or to save her life, would you?"

Brelan gave a slow, hesitant nod. "Aye, I would."

"Then, Teal can at least try sailing, can't he?" Conar chuckled. "Faint heart never won fair maiden."

Brelan smiled. "Holm may toss his ass overboard."

Conar shook his head. "Holm is happy about the situation. He'll forgive du Mer just about anything. Even seasickness."

"Conar?"

He stilled, hearing the anger in Liza's voice. He looked at Brelan.

Saur shook his head. "Better not keep her waiting."

Conar scrunched up his face as she called again. He drew in a harsh breath. Walking to the stairs, he looked up to see her standing there, arms folded over her chest, her right foot tapping a furious tempo on the carpet, her eyes glowing. When he climbed the steps and reached her, he smiled uncertainly.

"Your son is waiting for you to speak to him," she said, forestalling his apology. She nodded to Regan's door. "When you're through with your duty in there, I'll be in the library--waiting." She spoke the last word with finality, then swept past him down the stairs.

He didn't give himself time to stall. He tapped lightly on Regan's door, heard the hesitant "enter," and walked in. Regan, sitting on the window seat, slowing stood, his eyes wary, his body tense.

Conar took a deep breath and settled on the bed, patting the place beside him. Regan sat down as though on hot coals. His nervous eyes darted to Conar, then away. Putting his arm around Regan, Conar felt the boy's body go as taut as a freshly strung bow. He gently pulled the small body toward him and settled his chin on Regan's head.

"Do you mind if I hold you?"

Regan shook his head.

Neither spoke for a long while, as if merely content to sit together, gathering their own thoughts.

Outside the room, Shalu's deep bass boomed as he argued with Jah-Ma-El. Jah-Ma-El's pained retort made Conar smile.

"They're too much alike," he concluded.

Regan looked up and smiled hesitantly. "They don't think so."

"That's why they're good friends. They're almost like brother's."

"Did you get along with your brothers when you were little?"

Conar laughed. "Brothers aren't made to always get along. You have to fight when you're a brother. It's the natural way of things."

"How many brothers and sisters did I have besides Corbin and Wyn?"

"There were ten, that I know of. You and your brothers are all that are left. Kaileel had the others killed." A muscle jumped in Conar's cheek. "The most important part of the score I have to settle with him is to make him pay for the slaughter of my children."

"I hate him, too," Regan vowed. "He did evil to me."

Conar closed his eyes. "I know. He'll pay for that, too."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Conar?"

"Papa," Conar corrected. "I would like you to call me Papa."

Regan's eyes lowered. "Love me, too, Papa," he said, voice breaking. "Please love me, too."

Conar held the fragile body close to his own. "I do, Regan."

"I'm sorry. I didn't--"

"Shush. It's over and done. What matters is that we go forward." He tilted the little chin upward and gazed down with tear-blurred eyes. "You can make a place for yourself here, if you but try." He searched the boy's face. "Is that what you want?"

Regan nodded.

"Then you can stay."

"What about Corbin? Will you bring him home from wherever you sent him?"

"No. He's where he can be protected. I fear more for him than you, right now. You are with the Force. Kaileel might try to come after Corbin here. Your brother is safer out of Serenia."

A light tap at the door broke the spell.

Conar cleared his throat to speak. "Enter."

Roget du Mer poked in his head. "Bre's leaving for Ciona. Do you want to say goodbye?"

"I'll be right there." Conar withdrew his arm from his son and stood. "Is there anything else we need to settle between us?"

The boy shook his head.

"Then I'll see you at supper?"

Regan blinked, as if not believing he would be allowed to sit at table with his father.

Conar walked to the door and smiled at him. "Things will be all right, Regan. You'll see."

Long after his father had gone, Regan sat on the bed, staring across the room. In his heart he felt a strange stirring, something he had never felt before, something almost painful.

He wondered what it was.