Charlotte Boyett-Compo- WIND VERSE- Pleasure's Foehn (15 page)

“Will she be angry?” Davan asked softly.

“My mother?”

“Aye.”

He shrugged and rolled off her only to gather her in his arms so her head lay on his shoulder. “She may be an interfering old bat but she’s a shrewd one, wench. She knew damned well what she was about.”

“She was responsible for my assignment to the
Foehn
, wasn’t she?”

“Aye, just as she was responsible for mine in her nefarious way.” He braced his arm under his head. “She didn’t want me at the front and so I was found and reassigned.”

Davan fingered a curl of hair on his chest. “You were in the fighting?”

“In the thick of it,” he replied. “We had just taken an outpost near Ezon. I had lost a lot of men but we were mopping up, had everything under control when four men—

four, mind you—landed with orders to bring me to the
Foehn
.”

“You had to have been angry.”

“I don’t think anger is the right word, wench. Infuriated was more like it.” He smiled as she ran her foot beneath the hem of his pajama bottom and tickled his ankle.

“It was humiliating to be given such an assignment but Mother didn’t care. When I don’t do her bidding, she always makes sure I pay for my rebellion one way or another. This payment was too damned much.”

“Were you afraid your men would think less of you for it?” she asked.

“They knew who I was, what I was and they saw how I fought being taken onboard the runabout that had been sent to fetch me. I lived up to my Deathwielder training, believe me.” He chuckled. “They had to drag me onboard in manacles.”

She lifted her head. “Truly?”

He nodded. “Kicking and cursing the entire way. Things got so bad the healer sedated me and when I woke, I was on the
Foehn
.”

“What happened then?”

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“I went on a rampage. I wrecked everything in my quarters because the damned door was locked and I couldn’t get out. For three days I beat at the door—until my fists were bloody—but they ignored me just as they had been instructed to do. By the morning of the fourth day, I realized I was truly trapped and that I was simply wasting my time. I’d been imprisoned on that damned ship and no one was going to let me off it.” He sighed. “That’s when I started drinking.”

“And invited Amethyst to your bed,” she said quietly.

He thought about that. “You know, I don’t ever remember inviting her. She just showed up one night and kept coming.” He laughed. “And coming and coming and—”

Davan dug her elbow into his ribs until he flinched away from her. The Vid-Com chimed and both turned to look at it across the room.

“It’ll be her,” he said. He reached down and pulled the sheet over them. “Just ignore it.”

But that was not to be. The Vid-Com screen pulsed into life and the image of Queen Meg appeared.

“Enjoying the honeymoon before the Joining, eh, Cairnan?” she asked in a pleasant tone.

“Still clipping the wings off butterflies, Mother?” he countered.

“The only wings I’ve ever clipped were yours, boy, and you should be glad I did,”

she replied. She smiled. “Hello, Davie. How was he?”

Davan blushed to the roots of her hair and hid her face against Cair’s neck.

“That good, eh?” the queen chuckled.

“Is there a reason for your intrusion, Mother, or have you taken up voyeurism in your advanced age?”

The smile left the queen’s face. “Davie, did you tell him the
Faucon
was attacked and everyone onboard captured?”

Davan flinched. “No, Your Majesty. We were… I was… Things just…”

“When did this happen?” Cair demanded, pulling his arm from around Davan and sitting up.

“While you were unconscious,” the queen answered. “We received their distress call but by the time our LRC reached their last known position, there was nothing left of the
Faucon
but space dust. We have since learned there were no casualties but the crew has been taken to Utuk Xul.”

“Including the women?” Cair asked.

“All but one. I am told the woman you asked Captain LeClerc to transport to the
Samiel
was kept aboard the Saurian ship.”

Cair cursed. He knew all too well what that could mean for Amethyst. “Which Saurian ship attacked them?”

“The
Kady
,” his mother answered.

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“B’reith Avatás!” Cair spat as though the name was a vile taste in his mouth.

“I am told he is a very dangerous man.”

“He’s a religious fanatic,” Cair told his mother. “Men like that are always dangerous because you never know what they will do next in the name of their gods.”

“Although you are unaware of it, there are six fully armed battle cruisers accompanying the
Miodóg
home to Amhantar, one on each flank, one above, one below, one behind and one in front. We are not taking any chances with your life, Cairnan. The Net will be activated as soon as you land.”

“You think they would try to take him prisoner?” Davan asked, drawing the sheet to her chin as she sat up.

“They tried before at Ezon and they failed,” Cair stated. “Taking me won’t be as easy as they think.”

“It would be a feather in Avatás’ cap to kill a Deathwielder,” the queen replied.

“But to capture a Scythelord? And the future king of Amhantar in the bargain? To have you caged at Utuk Xul would weaken our position. Don’t take this so lightly, boy.”

Davan looked at her husband-to-be and he patted her knee. “The Saurian would be stupid to attack with that much firepower facing them. Even their Aduaidh masters wouldn’t be that foolish.”

“You are quite the prize, Cairnan,” his mother snapped. “Do not downplay the seriousness of this!”

“I’m not, but I know Avatás. He won’t attack unless he’s damned sure he can slither away free and clear.”

Davan listened to her lover and his mother arguing over his safety. Staring at his profile, she knew she was falling in love with Cair Ghrian and the thought of something happening to him, him being taken from her, made her blood run cold. Even when he reached for her hand and held it possessively in his, she felt fear forming in her heart. 86

Pleasure’s Foehn

Chapter Eleven

The salt tang of the sea wafted over the Cliffs of Dúshláin and settled with a fine sheen on the fortress castle of Finscéalta. Forming a giant natural rampart against the violent waves of the North Domhan Ocean, the cliffs stood sentinel to the turbulent weather, which swept in from
an tSualainn
at that time of year. The crashing waves far below and the howl of the wind passing through the crenulations of the fortress underscored the loneliness of the wild Amhantarean landscape. It was just after dawn and the sky was lighting in soft degrees though it was overcast and a heavy fog was drifting in to shore.

Cair had been sitting on one of the parapets for nearly an hour, observing the wild terrain that was his home. It had been many years since he had been able to and the sweet solitude was a balm to his senses. He drew the scent of the sea deep into his lungs. Since the first burst of human life had come to the headlands of Eirrean Bay, Amhantareans had worshiped the sea and the lush green land nourished by its mists and windswept storms. Cair was as much a part of the waters that surrounded his island home as he was of the stars through which he soared. His hands were braced to either side of his hips on the stone platform on which he sat, legs dangling over the parapet, his ankles crossed. Leaning forward a bit, the wild wind had tousled his dark hair, blowing it into his face, making him look far younger than his true age.

Soft hands touched his shoulders and he knew without looking who had joined him there at the start of a new day.

“
Dia duit ar maidin, bean mo chroi
,” he greeted her, reaching up to cover one of her hands with his.

“You are going to have to teach me to speak Amhantarean,” she said as she threw a leg over the wall and sat down beside him. “What did you just say?”

“I said good morning, woman of my heart,” he said quietly.

“Do you mean that?”

“Aye, Davan, I do.”

Davan leaned her head on his shoulder. “It is lovely here.”

“You like it?”

“I love it. I’ve never seen anything so wondrous and the people are so friendly.”

“
Níl aon tintéan mar do thintéan féin
.”

She glanced up at him.

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Charlotte Boyett-Compo

“There is no place like home,” he translated. He crooked his finger under her chin and lifted her mouth to his, placing the softest of kisses upon her mouth. “And this is now your home.”

“I am still in the military, Cair,” she reminded him. “They can reassign me any time they like.”

“And have,” he said. “Queen Meg made sure of that before we ever docked here yesterday.”

Davan frowned. “I wanted to go to the front,” she said. “I wanted to be of help to our troops.”

“In less than a week, you will be Joined to me as the future queen of Amhantar. You’ll have your hands full in that capacity, believe me.”

“But will I be able to help anyone?” she asked. “Will I be able to use the skills I trained so hard to learn?”

Cair put his arm around her. “Why wouldn’t you? Gaoithe will have its share of wounded and the ill. Our healers will be happy to have you join them.”

There was a part of Davan that had grave reservations about her future. Her job meant more to her than just an assignment. It was her life.

“Did the interview with my mother bother you that much, wench?”

Davan snorted. “It was only marginally less frightening than when I had to defend my doctoral thesis,” she reported. “She grilled me worse than any academician ever could have.”

He grinned. “To see if you were good enough for her little boy?”

“Oh, that, apparently, had been a foregone conclusion before she ever met me,”

Davan replied. “She knew more about my life and my family history than I did.” She turned to Cair. “Did you know Cat McGregor was pregnant with my mother before her Joining?”

Cair gasped. “How shameful!”

She punched his arm. “You should know, milord,” she accused.

“Did you learn anything else interesting about the legendary Cat Mc?”

“I knew most of what your mother told me but I knew nothing of their relationship, of course. The queen said she was eighteen when she joined Cat’s squadron. They hit it off and I gather your mother was in awe of my grandmother.”

“Oh, I know she was. According to Mother, the sun rose and set in Catherine McGregor. She was a warrioress without equal.”

“My grandmother saved your mother’s life.”

“And introduced her to my father,” Cair added. “The Goddess rest his soul.”

“How long has it been since he died?”

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“Ten years,” Cair answered. “The aneurysm that took his life so unexpectedly would have been discovered in time had he not ignored the symptoms. Every time I get a headache, I worry the same thing will happen to me.”

“Not on my watch it won’t, milord,” she said. “I plan on giving you a complete physical every month.”

“My mother’s idea?” he questioned, bracing his chin on the top of her head.

“Our mutual decision,” she stated.

“Isn’t once a month a bit excessive, wench?”

“My hands in and on every inch of you—probing, palpating, prying, peeking in, weighing?” she asked, slipping a hand to his crotch. “Gathering scientific data?”

“Well, if it’s all in the name of science…”

They sat in silence for a few moments then Davan looked up at the sky. “What is that strange green glow up there?”

He didn’t have to look. “The Net.”

“What is The Net?”

“It’s a block to keep me from being snatched off Amhantar by an Aduaidh Skyraider. Did you notice the guards lurking about?”

She looked behind her and searched the grounds. “I don’t see any.”

“I’d be surprised if you did,” he told her. “They are Seamus’ men and he personally trained them. He calls them specters.”

Lightning stitched across the heavens and the wind turned cooler.

“One of your infamous North Domhan storms brewing, milord?”

“Aye,” he said with a sigh. “We’d best head back unless…” He glanced at the fortress.

Davan knew there would be privacy in the abandoned fortress. There would be no prying eyes. As thunder rolled across the sea toward them, she felt a light drop of rain fall on her arm.

“Do you think there might be snakes in there?” she asked, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she eyed the ancient building.

“There are no snakes in Amhantar,” he told her and turned his back to swing his leg over the wall. He helped her climb over and as the wind buffeted them and droplets of rain fell with increasing force, took her hand and headed for the interior of the fortress. The rain began in earnest as they ducked beneath the low doorway.

* * * * *

B’reith Avatás stared down at the dead woman with detachment. Her body had been used for his purpose so her usefulness was at an end. She had provided him with 89

Charlotte Boyett-Compo

nine litters of forty-eight robust nestlings and that was the only reason he didn’t have his men jettison her broken body into space. Some respect needed to be shown to his children’s mother if for only for the sake of show.

A means to an end was all she had been to him, but he stood straight and tall beside her funeral pyre, and watched as the Holy Man spoke his words over the one called Amethyst. He waited until the flames surrounded the body then turned away. There was no need to watch while the fire cleansed the
Kady
of the infidel woman’s presence. But he grudgingly admitted she had been vital to his mission, so when he reached his quarters, raised a glass of honeyed apple juice to toast her journey into the Afterlife. She had provided him with vital information his mole on the
Foehn
had no way of knowing. Secrets shared under the influence of potent potables and sizzling sex had a way of leaking out when least expected.