Authors: Charlotte Boyett-Compo
The path gave a dizzying view of the crashing sea some thirty feet below. Twisted trees, gnarled with age and the relentless hammering of the harsh North Boreal Sea winds, dotted the path at irregular intervals. Their stark branches dipped down almost to the pathway in some places and soared high overhead in others.
The crashing waves lapped over portions of the pathway. Spraying foam and cold droplets of water even soared over the natural arch of stone bridge, making a thunderous sound, a deadly sound that warned many an unsuspecting viewer of the dangers; some had fallen to their death on the sharp, up-thrusting rocks far below.
Around one particularly treacherous turning in the path, the rock face rose up to blend in with the umber-colored mountain above. Hidden beneath a natural curtain of thick foliage, tumbled rock, and dead vines stood an archway into a silent world of surrealistic beauty known as the Widow's Grotto.
The sand underfoot was crystalline, pure and soft. The only light came from deep within the cavern and the cavern's atmosphere was mysterious and alien, but oddly comforting. Deep shades of green and blue light played over the sparkling sands and the ceiling above was lined with milk-white and chartreuse stalactites dripping downward.
Silent and still, save for the churning hum of the ocean and the soft whoosh of an errant breeze, the cavern glistened with a charm that compelled a visitor to venture deeper within the chill walls of the tunnel.
Entering this calming world, Sentian was struck with the unreal quality of the beauty before him. As he cleared a turn he heard the faint rumble of the ocean purring beneath his feet. He felt the slight breaking of the waves in the cavern, making the walls vibrate as he placed his hand against the moist surface.
He saw the eerie milky-green glow of the Grotto as he passed beneath a second archway, bending down to clear the height. He had been going steadily downward, and now as he stepped from the stone ledge onto the grotto's actual floor, he was washed in the same green glow as the walls.
A wide pool of pale green water—seemingly lit from beneath by some alien light—sat off to the far right side of the cavern. Stalagmites circled portions of the pool and spread out to curve gently around the walls.
A small fire burned steadily near the pool; a blanket lay beside it. Several bottles of what must have been ale were strewn about the sand; two bottles bobbed on the water's surface.
He was aware of a faint light cast by a torch hidden around the break in the wall. As he watched, a shadow emerged from the break and Heil was relieved to see his Overlord.
Conar glanced up, not appearing to be surprised at seeing Sentian. "How is my lady?"
"Worried about you."
"Does she know where I am?"
Sentian smiled. "Wes probably went to tell her. He cares deeply for you, Conar."
"I care for him."
Sentian cast inquisitive eyes down to his friend. "Will you try to talk with the King again?"
For a long moment, Conar didn't speak. Then a soft whisper came from his dry throat. "I think not."
"This is your home, Coni," Sentian protested. "He should not send you from it."
"I have no place here," Conar said with bitter hurt. "He has made that abundantly clear to me." He had spent the night in this chill place and finally come to the conclusion it would be best if he and Liza left with their daughter. "I'll not stay where I'm not wanted."
Sentian's face turned sad. "Wherever you go, my family and I will also go, Milord."
Conar shook his head. "Your place is here, Senti. Your farm is here; your family is here. I will not ask you to leave."
"You haven't asked. I have offered. Besides, I am Her Grace's sentinel. I must be with her."
Conar smiled, but the smile did not reach his eyes. "I can see your point."
"She might have another view of things. I cannot see our lady running from anything."
Conar looked up. "Our lady?" he questioned softly.
Sentian blushed and ducked his head. "You know what I meant."
He put out a hand to clasp Sentian's shoulder. "Aye, my good friend, I do." He squeezed Sentian's flesh. "Did I ever thank you for coming to the Abbey, Sentian?"
The blush deepened on the Elite's face. "There was no need. I will always be there for you, Milord Conar."
"And go with me where I will, eh?" came the sorrowful question.
"If you insist on leaving, then I, too, will leave."
"Where are you going to go?" a voice called from the archway.
Conar flinched. The voice was that of his eldest brother; the tone was that of a stranger. He looked up at Legion and shrugged. "Does it matter?"
"Papa didn't tell you to leave Boreas. He just told you to vacate the keep."
Conar could see the disappointment in his brother's bearded face. "Papa doesn't want me here and I'll not stay."
"Then, go," Legion snapped, "but don't leave the country. That's the coward's way. You are no coward."
"There are those who will say that is precisely what I am."
Legion snorted. "Those who matter know differently."
"Those who matter won't care," Sentian grumbled.
"Shut up, Heil," Legion ordered. "Things are bad enough without you putting your two coins in."
Sentian's lip curled. "Seems there are those who refuse to understand just how bad things really are!"
"Let it rest, Senti," Conar said quietly.
"The man doesn't want to see how things are with you, Conar! He looks the other way while those who you think love you turn their backs on you!"
"They only echo what their king feels," Conar muttered.
"You do understand, don't you?" Legion felt compelled to clarify their father's position. "He can't allow you to take the throne if you are allied with Tohre. The people wouldn't accept you. They wouldn't trust you."
"Who says so?" Sentian snapped.
Legion pointed a finger at the Elite. "This is between my brother and me! He's done wrong and he knows it!"
"He is guilty of nothing but great love for his lady! You would have done the same had it been required of you."
"Tell this man to be quiet, Conar!" Legion demanded. "Do you really want him to hear this?"
Conar didn't answer. His face mirrored the pain in his heart, for he could hear Kaileel Tohre's words ringing in his ears: "Your father will disown you; your family will desert you." Sentian was the only friend who had shown him any kind of understanding, who apparently had not turned his back.
"I'll go if you want me to, Milord," Sentian vowed.
Conar shook his head in denial. "Stay."
Legion ground his teeth. "So what do you do? If the Tribunal wants to, they can call a disciplinary court and have you censured. I doubt they will exile you, but you can't be sure. If you have to stand before them and answer any charges, it would be best if you were close by. If you travel far, they might think it an admission of guilt."
"Believe me," Conar snorted, "they know all about what is happening, Legion."
"You'd better hope they don't!"
Conar looked away. "What hope I had has been taken away."
"So, you plan to tuck your tail between your legs and slink away. Is that it?"
"I plan to take my wife and daughter and leave this country. And never come back."
A stunned look passed over Legion's face. "You can't possibly be serious!"
"I'm very serious."
"I won't allow it!" Legion roared. He might be angry at his little brother, but he didn't want to spend his life without him.
Chuckling sardonically, Conar glanced up. "And how do you propose to stop me?"
"Lock you up if I have to!"
"In the dungeon?"
"In the armoire, if need be!" There was a trace of a smile on Legion's face, his lips pursed in a tight line to keep from laughing. "I have before."
"I remember. I nearly suffocated."
"Before Brelan let you out." Legion laughed. He watched the light grow bright for a second in Conar's pale eyes as they both remembered the childhood incident. "At least I kept you from running away then, too."
A shadow fell over Conar's face. He recalled the reason he had meant to flee his home. It would've been better for everyone concerned if he had escaped.
"I was six, Legion. I am a man, now."
Legion smirked. "At times, anyway."
"I know what I have to do."
"Why did he lock you in that…" Sentian frowned. "That thing?"
Legion cast the man an annoyed look. "It's none of your—"
Conar held up his hand, then explained the circumstances. "I had been told that High Priest Kaileel Tohre was going to take me to the Wind Temple at Century for my initiation into the WindWarrior Society. I didn't want to go so I told Legion I was going to run away." He looked at his brother. "That was a mistake. Legion thought he was doing what was best for me so he locked me in the armoire in my room and went to find Papa. He had no idea how afraid I was of the close darkness inside that thing. I couldn't seem to breathe. I couldn't get out. Brelan heard me screaming and thought it was funny until he didn't hear any sounds at all coming from the chest."
Legion's face darkened. "Brelan pulled him out just in time. No one ever knew just how close Conar came to dying. He wasn't breathing."
"Brelan literally breathed life back into me. It was the only time in our lives that he and I were even remotely close."
Legion lowered his eyes. "You can imagine how surprised I was when Papa and I came into that room to find Brelan holding Conar, rocking him, absorbing the terrified shudders that were racking Conar's little body. I had almost killed him. I almost killed my own brother."
"The key word there is 'almost,'" Conar whispered.
"I don't want you to go," Legion said grimly. "No more than I did back then."
Sighing, Conar looked hard at his brother. "I don't want to go, but no one seems to understand what I did. Not even you." He saw the hesitation in Legion's eyes. "I can't remain here cut off from my family and friends. I take it that's why Teal and the others aren't with you."
The guilty, sullen look that came over Legion's face told Conar all he needed to know. The others felt the same. They wanted nothing to do with a man who had become mired with the evil of the Domination. Kaileel's mocking words rumbled through him once more: Your friends will turn their backs on you.
"They were upset when they learned what you'd done," Legion qualified.
"They condemned him without even speaking to him, you mean!" Sentian corrected.
Nodding his head in acceptance, Conar stared at the shimmering walls. His gaze fell on one of the wine bottles and he snaked out a hand to grab it.
Legion frowned. "You've taken quite a liking to that stuff over the years. Too much of a liking, I believe. It may well be at the root of your problem."
"Don't start," Conar sighed, uncorking the bottle Sadie had sneaked to him. He took a long, healthy pull on the heady contents. His eyes clouded almost instantly, and the taste he'd come to recognize seemed stronger in this bottle than all the others. He felt an immediate anger start to gather in his gut.
At a sound from the doorway, all three men turned.
"Wes told me where to find you," Liza said as she came into the Grotto.
Conar beckoned for her to sit beside him. "We will be leaving, Milady," he told her as she sat down, coming into his arms.
"I will go wherever you wish."
Sentian got to his feet and brushed away the loose sand from his cords. "How can I help?"
"Have the
Seachance
readied for us," Liza answered. "Tell them we will be going home on the tide tomorrow morn. Find Gezelle and see if she wants to go with us. If not, then ask Aurora if she would. I will need help with Nadia. There's no need to pack anything. What we need, we will get in Oceania."
"I'll let him do those things on one condition," Legion joined in.
Conar scowled at him. "There will be no conditions."
"There will be one!"
Knowing it was totally useless to argue with his brother, Conar inclined his head, one tawny brow raised in silent question.
"You will let me hand pick six of your Elite to accompany you. Men who are loyal to you. You made a threat against your King. There will be those who will look at it as high treason."
Thinking over the condition, Conar capitulated. He could see the wisdom in what Legion was saying. "I agree."
Nodding in relief, Legion told him, "Roy Matheny and Lin Dixon will want to be among the men."
"No. They have family." Conar's anger began to surface. "I want men with no ties to Serenia, no wives to ask about leaving their homelands."
"What of me?" Sentian asked, hesitation lacing his voice.
"You are no longer an Elite."
"Why?" Sentian said, his hurt evident.
"Because there will be no more Elite Guard," Liza answered. Her smile was warm. "His Grace wants you to go as his friend; not as his guard, Senti." She turned to Conar and saw him nod.
Gathering tears slipped down Sentian's cheek. He swiped at them without realizing it. "I will take care of everything, Milord."
"See that you do," Conar snapped and turned to pierce his brother with a stony glare. "I would just as soon as few people know about this as is possible. I have enemies here."
Legion looked at him for a moment, not sure why his brother's face had turned so hard, so cold. "I'll use only men we can trust to go with you, but it'll be hard not to arouse suspicion while the ship is being reprovisioned."
"That is an Oceanian ship destined for its homeland," Conar snarled. "That's all the curious bastards need be told!"
Legion looked first at Sentian, then to Liza, his face narrowing with hurt. "I can handle it, Conar."
"Let's hope you can!"
Sentian asked, "Is there anything else?"
"Go," Conar instructed, flinging out his hand. "The sooner things get it done, the sooner we can leave this fucking place."
If Sentian was shocked by his Overlord's language, he didn't show it. He hurried from the cavern.
Biting his tongue to keep from chastising Conar, Legion shook his head at Liza. A'Lex was seething inside and it wouldn't take much to wipe off the surly look that had come over Conar's face. He shrugged his massive shoulders and turned to follow Sentian.