WINDWEEPER (41 page)

He ran a shaking hand through his dark hair. He could feel his heart beating so fast he was beginning to have trouble breathing.

Was it true? he wondered. Did I love him?

"I did. The gods help me, but I did!"

His footsteps took him to the Temple, the last place he ever wanted to be. It was here where Liza had married Conar. It was here where Liza had wed Galen. It was here where Liza's wedding to Legion had been sanctified when she had been able to leave her birthing bed.

And it was here, in this terrible place of death and destruction and pain, where Brelan's hopes and dreams and desires had been repeatedly shattered, destroyed, where his daughter, Ceara, had been christened another man's child.

Some part of him had hoped Liza would one day turn to him as she had that night in the storm, but she hadn't. She had rekindled that special bond with Legion and that old connection had turned from comradeship to devotion; love now burned where friendship had once smoldered.

Watching their love grow hurt him. In his heart Brelan knew he was never destined to have her. And that hurt more than any physical pain the Tribunal could mete out.

He sank to his knees before the great statue of Alel, and looked into the dark blue sapphire eyes. He felt betrayed. He felt so alone.

And lonely.

* * *

Legion lay beside his wife, watching her sleep. He drank in her delicate beauty, the heavy sweep of her dark curls fanned out on the pillow. His heart was full, aching with the sight of her, and his body was heavy with a passion he knew would never be sated.

Though he had lain with her, claimed her, many times, he was still amazed she belonged to him and that he had the right to love her. And he could not stop thinking how close he had came to throwing it all away on the day his father died.

He'd had every intention of leaving Boreas forever. When he had met Galen on the stairs that day, he made up his mind to denounce his citizenship and move to Chrystallus to be with his Aunt Dyreil, the empress of that luxurious country. He believed he could not, in good conscience, stand by while Liza wed Galen to become queen of Serenia. He had been so angry, hurt by what he thought was her betrayal of Conar, and nothing save imprisonment could keep him near her despite his oath of loyalty to his country.

But that was before Liza had come to him, weak and tired from having given birth, and gone to her knees before him…

"I did not betray your brother. How could you think it of me?"

"You married that son-of-a-bitch!" he accused. "You don't think that's betrayal?"

"Please trust my reasons were honorable and…"

"Did Galen or Tohre threaten you?"

She lowered her eyes. "Aye, but in a way I cannot speak of it. One day you will see why, Legion, and know. For now, will you trust that I did what was best for Conar?"

"Conar is dead!" Legion cried, his eyes filling with moisture. "Dead and gone!"

"Not here!" she threw back, her hand on her heart. "Never gone from here, Milord Legion. Never gone from here!"

He had seen the pain in her lovely eyes, heard it in her voice, and despite the anger that still held him gripped in its ragged talons, he had done as she asked and walked with her to the library. Two hours later, he agreed to stay and keep his opinion to himself until such time as she could fully explain to him why she had so hastily married Galen.

"Corbin," he sighed, picturing his nephew.

Aye, he thought. What other reason could there have been and he too blind to reason it out for himself?

While their friendship had not reverted to the easy, bantering playfulness it had been before Conar's death, at least it had been pleasant and without rancor. As for Liza, her attitude toward him had never changed. By the time he understood why she had married Galen, his and Liza's relationship had again changed and he was betrothed to her. It was a change he would never have dreamed possible and one he thanked the gods for everyday.

"You're staring."

Legion blinked, aware his lady was awake. He blushed and shrugged.

"A copper for your thoughts, Milord," she said, smoothing the hair from his temple.

"I almost threw it all away, Liza."

She understood and nodded. "But you didn't."

"You think maybe he had a hand in me staying?"

"I'd like to think so."

Legion propped his head on his fist. "Do you think he watches us?"

"As you and Teal and Thom watched us out on the beach that day?" she asked archly.

"Oh," he said, the word dropping like a rock. "I'd forgotten about that."

"He never did, though he never actually took revenge for your snooping, he often told me he was still planning how best to get back at you three."

"As I remember it, he filled Thom's boots with molasses and spiked my milk with enough tenerse to make me uncomfortable when we were on maneuvers near Ledo and not a woman within fifty miles."

Liza's eyes grew wide. "Tenerse? The drug that…" She guffawed. "By the gods, that is rich!"

"You'd not think so if you were as horny as a ram and there was nothing to ram!"

Liza wiped tears of mirth from her eyes. "That is so like him, but I didn't know he'd taken his revenge. What did he do to Teal?"

"You remember when Teal was absent from court for about a month?"

"It was fall. He missed the Harvest Festival at Corinth. Someone mentioned it was the first time he hadn't been there to make a bet on the wrestling matches."

"Aye, well the reason he wasn't there is because he was sitting in a jail in Colsaurus, accused of gambling with marked cards. Conar marked three decks, and stuck them in Teal's saddlebags. Our Conar had a wicked streak up his back a mile wide."

"Teal could have been hanged for something he didn't even know he was doing!"

"I doubt Coni would have allowed that, but I believe the jail time was partly due to Teal's spying on the two of you that day and that little sojourn Coni spent in the Wixenstead Village jail before you two married."

"When Teal gave him the counterfeit money for passage home. You men," she said, shaking her head. "It's a wonder any of you reached maturity."

"Who says we have?"

She snuggled close to him. "That was a mature thing you did to me this morn, my Liege."

"I did something to you this morn, my Queen?" he asked innocently.

"Care you to see if you can do it again?"

"Faith, but I don't remember doing anything save sleeping, Your Grace. I…" He stopped as she grasped that part of him he had exercised so maturely earlier.

"I've heard tales of this one-eyed demon from many a lass in this keep," she said, gently massaging her husband.

"Really?" He swallowed in an effort to pretend he was unaffected by her ministrations.

"I recall hearing that Lord Legion A'Lex was well-endowed and quite the swordsman."

"Swordsman," Legion squeaked as sweat began popping out on his upper lip.

"One maiden said she had been nearly split asunder by the great man's weighty shaft."

"If I shafted her, she was no maiden."

"But when I first laid eyes on the weapon, I remember thinking something entirely different."

Legion looked down at her. "That sounds like an insult, lady."

She tugged tightly on his penis, the thickness of it not even allowing her fingers to meet around the circumference, and shrugged. "Not necessarily."

He was up and over her, her hand caught between them before she could react. With his body pressed heavily to hers, his hands braced to either side of her head, he lowered his face to hers.

"What think you of that weapon you are toying with, Milady?" he asked in a husky voice. "Think you it is a lethal appliance?"

She could feel his shaft throbbing in her grip. Her lower body grew heavy and hot with need. "I think it isn't nearly as destructive as some maids…"

"Whores. Let's call a spade, a spade, lady."

"All right. I think it isn't as destructive as those whores led me to believe."

"If not destructive, then what, Milady?"

She giggled. "Highly explosive, if experience serves."

He wriggled against her. "And its pleasuring value, lady? What think you of that?"

Liza licked her upper lip, grinning evilly at his instant look of arousal. "I forget."

Legion narrowed his eyes. "You forget its pleasuring value?"

"That is what I am saying."

A hot gleam shot through Legion A'Lex's intense gaze and he pressed hard against her. "Let's see if I can jog your memory, wench!" He got off the bed.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice filled with disappointment.

"I am a warrior!"

Liza watched her husband as he plucked her bedrobe from the chair and drew its sash from the loops. "Legion, what are you about?" she queried in a warning voice.

"I have the blood of generations of McGregor berserkers running through my veins," he said as though he hadn't heard. He grabbed his breeches from the floor and tore away the belt.

Liza's heart pounded wildly as she watched him throw open the door to the armoire and drag out a couple of her silk scarves. When he turned and looked at her, her eyes grew wide.

"Uh, oh!" She tried to scramble from the bed. She never made it across the wide expanse before he snagged her ankle and drew her back across the sheet.

"We men of the McGregor Clan are conquerors," he said, flipping her easily onto her back and gripping both her wrists in one of his huge hands. He straddled her hips, effectively pinning her to the bed.

"Legion A'Lex, don't you dare!"

"For centuries, the McGregor men have taken what they wanted, when they wanted it," he said through clenched teeth. He looped his belt around her wrists and made quick work of tying it to the brass poster of the headboard.

"Legion!" she protested. She wiggled furiously beneath him, her heels digging into the mattress.

"We are seasoned soldiers trained to make our enemies cry 'quarter.'" He stopped, looking down into her face. "Do you beg quarter, lady?"

Liza lifted her chin. "I am a warrioress from generations of Daughters of the Multitude. I do not beg quarter of my captors!'

"We'll see," he snapped.

Before she could buck free, he sat on one of her legs. He tied her ankle to the footboard with one of her scarves. Within a moment, he had her other leg secured with the other scarf.

"Brute," she hissed, blowing a strand of hair from her mouth.

"Captive," he whispered, holding the sash of her robe stretched taut between his hands, he snapped the sash, the popping sound loud in the still room.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, uncertainty lighting her green eyes.

"You'll see," he said, wagging his dark brows.

Liza struggled against her bonds, unaware that the sight of her naked body thrashing on the silken sheets was doing wicked things to her husband's libido.

"You are mine, wench," Legion declared. "As your lord and master…"

Liza snorted in a very unladylike way.

"Think you I am not your lord and master?"

"I think
you
think you are."

"Flung down the gauntlet, have you, wench?"

Liza turned her eyes to the ceiling, lifted her chin and went perfectly still. "I may be your captive, you savage barbarian, but I will never yield to you no matter how much torture you inflict."

"Ah, a maiden to the sacrifice, are you?"

"Aye, beast. Attempt your worst!"

Legion grinned. "Ah, lady, I was hoping you'd say that!"

Liza shifted her eyes to his, then away. He bent over with the sash and blindfolded her.

"That's good," she said. "Now I don't have to look at your ugly old bearded face."

Legion didn't answer. What he did was begin an all-out assault on her body.

He straddled her hips and slid his body down until they were molded together, his shaft resting between her spread thighs, his hairy chest pressed to her breasts. He anchored her head in his hands and slanted his mouth over hers, thrusting his tongue between her lips.

Liza felt the quickening in her lower belly and it was all she could do not to squirm beneath his attack. His tongue was sweet, expertly plying her senses as he ran the tip along her teeth and lips. He sucked at the bottom lip, nipping it gently between his teeth, then soothing the light pain with quick little jabs of his tongue. He licked the corners of her mouth, ignoring her quick intakes of breath and shifted his attention to her ear.

The sensation of her husband's tongue flicking deeply into the opening and then spiraling around her ear sent shivers racing down Liza's neck. She had to bite her tongue to keep from moaning as he moved from her right ear to her left and continued his assault.

"The men of my clan were known for ravaging the women of conquered villages," he whispered hotly. "We came; we saw; we captured; we took the women as our love slaves."

"To cook and clean and bear your onerous children," she accused, licking her lower lip.

"We used them for our pleasure, wench." He moved so that he could trail kisses down her throat and onto her chest.

"You…"

"Hush or I'll stop what I'm doing and leave you unsated."

"Humpf," Liza grunted, but she closed her mouth only to open it with a gasp as his mouth settled on one of her nipples.

With the expert tongue and knowledgeable hands of which Liza had heard many a tale from the keep's women, Legion plied her breasts with a thoroughness that had her panting and wiggling.

"The men of my clan," he said as he trailed his hand from her breast to her belly, "are known for being fierce ravishers of their captive women. So fierce, in fact, no woman can long withstand the breech of her defenses."

"Oh!" Liza said as she felt his hot finger against the bud of her womanhood.

"Men of the McGregor clan know where to touch a captive to insure complete cooperation."

His finger slipped inside her, arched upward until he found the spot he sought.

"Legion!" she gasped, closing around him.

"Aye?"

"Quarter!"