WesternWind 4 - Tears of the Reaper (10 page)

Elder Barrow held her gaze, assimilating her answer, studying her eyes for any telltale untruth. When he was satisfied she was telling the truth, he looked away from her, dismissing her completely.

Rachel let out a shuddery breath and lowered her head. She flinched when she saw Owen’s eyes were open and realized he must have heard the entire conversation. He was staring at her in a way that made her flesh tingle. A tremor shook him and his eyes closed.

The buckboard came rattling over the rise with Rachel’s oldest brother Simon controlling the reins. Kathleen sat on the seat beside him.

“Let us get him in the wagon and finish this business!” Elder Barrow ordered.

Brighton took hold of Owen’s legs, Edward grabbed him under the arms and they carried him to the buckboard, Edward handing him off to Simon to lie on the makeshift pallet that had been spread in the wagon bed.

Rachel watched her brother turn the buckboard around and head back to the compound and wondered why she felt such a sense of loneliness once the Reaper was gone.

Chapter Five

The overabundance of tenerse in his system brought the hallucinations back to Owen and he tossed and turned on his bed though Elder Barrow refused to allow him to be shackled again. The older man sat beside the Reaper’s sickbed and from time to time would wipe away the pungent sweat that trickled over Owen’s face and bare chest. For propriety’s sake, Simon had given the ill man a pair of underwear that covered Owen from waist to mid-thigh. Already the cotton material was soaked with perspiration as waves of heat overtook the Reaper.

“Rachel!” Owen cried out, thrashing his head from side to side on the damp pillow.

Elder Barrow frowned. He got to his feet and wrung out the washcloth in the basin on the table beside the bed and ran it down Owen’s face and neck, across his heaving chest. “There now, son,” he said softly. “Try to calm yourself.”

Owen’s eyes opened and he stared up at the man hovering over him. It wasn’t the Communalist he saw in his mind’s eye but Arawn Gehdrin, the Prime Reaper who commanded the eight-man team of which Owen was a part. “Arawn,” he croaked, and held out a hand.

The elder took the Reaper’s hand. “I am Barrow, Owen,” he said.

“I shouldn’t have done it,” Owen said. “I shouldn’t have touched her. I knew better.”

The older man squinted. “Who, Owen? Who should you not have touched?”

“Rachel,” Owen said, locked in some fiery realm in his mind where his flesh felt as though it were being stripped by his body from the heat. “I shouldn’t have done those things to her. I know I shouldn’t have but when she touched me, I couldn’t stop.”

Elder Barrow swept a lock of sweat-soaked hair back from Owen’s forehead. “Where did she touch you, Owen?”

The Reaper groaned. “She put her sweet hand around me and I was lost, Arawn. The gods help me but I want her.”

Anger darkened Barrow Graves’ eyes and he nodded. “You will be the only man who will ever touch her, boy,” he said. He straightened up. “Did you pierce her maidenhead?”

Owen’s head moved back and forth on the pillow. “No, no. I wanted to. The gods know I wanted to.”

The door behind him opened and Elder Barrow turned around. He gave Edward a sharp look. “What is it, Brother Edward?”

“His men are here,” Edward reported.

“Bring them in,” Elder Barrow said, moving away from the bed.

Edward stepped aside and two men in black entered. They were as tall as Owen and just as well-formed in face and body. They looked to be about the same age as Owen or perhaps a bit younger. They each had the dark blue tribal clan tattoos on the left sides of their faces but both were different from Owen’s.

“I am Glyn Kullen,” one said, putting out a hand to Elder Barrow. “Thank you for taking care of our friend.”

Elder Barrow took the Reaper’s proffered hand. “He saved the life of one of our children. We owe him a great debt of gratitude.” He took the other man’s hand when Iden Belial introduced himself.

“Lord Glyn is in charge of the Pameny and Michinoh territories. I’m way down in Flagala.”

“Beautiful country along the coast there,” Elder Barrow said. “I know you men are tired. Have you had your evening meal?”

“No, milord,” Glyn replied. He was looking at Owen who was mumbling incoherently. He walked over to the bed. “We came straight here when we heard Owen was ill.”

“I hope you have brought an elixir to help him,” Elder Barrow said. “He has suffered so.”

“We did,” Iden answered. “And the sooner we get it into him, the quicker he’ll recover.”

“Owen?” Glyn sat down on the bed beside his friend. “Hey there, big guy. How’re you feeling?”

Owen’s face crinkled. “Glyn?”

“Aye,” Glyn said. “Iden is here with me.”

“I hurt, Glyn,” Owen said, his voice hoarse.

“I know. We’ve got something that will help.”

Elder Barrow watched as the younger of the two men reached into his pocket and pulled out a vac-syringe containing a dark yellow liquid. He turned away as the man prepared to inject it in Owen’s neck. He looked at Edward. “Were the bodies burned?”

“Aye, your honor,” Edward said. “Just as the last rays of the sun were disappearing on the horizon, the final grave was incinerated. There will be no rising for those creatures.”

“They were all infected?”

“Every one,” Edward replied.

The elder sighed heavily. “I must speak with High Elder Chamberlain. Have the women prepare trays and rooms for our guests.

“Rachel!”

Both Elder Barrow and Edward looked around to see the Reapers struggling with Owen, holding him down to the mattress.

“He’ll be all right,” Glyn told them. “Who is this Rachel he keeps mumbling about?”

“No one of importance, just his nurse, nothing more,” Elder Barrow said. “I have business to attend with our high elder so I will leave you gentlemen. Brother Edward will see to your comfort.”

“Thank you for all you’ve done for Owen,” Iden said.

Elder Barrow smiled. “It was our pleasure,” he said then motioned Edward ahead of him from the room.

* * * * *

His face hard and his eyes snapping with fury, Elder Barrow ignored the greetings of his people as he strode purposefully toward the cottage where High Elder Chamberlain Lawrence dwelled. It was not often he dared intrude on the high elder’s personal time and not once in all the years since his elevation to the exalted position as leader of the Colony had Elder Barrow visited High Elder Chamberlain at his residence. It was with some trepidation that he climbed the short flight of steps to the entrance door and knocked.

The door was opened almost instantly by Sister Daphne, the maid. She bowed and stepped back to allow Elder Barrow to enter the spacious receiving room.

“Tell his high honor I deeply regret intruding but it is a matter of some importance,” he told Daphne.

The young woman inclined her head and swept a hand toward one of the overstuffed chairs flanking the fireplace.

Elder Barrow declined taking a seat and instead went to stand before the hearth. He stared into the blackened niche, a muscle working in his jaw. He did not have long to wait before the high elder joined him.

“If you have come to report to me of the goings-on in the graveyard, there is no need, Elder Barrow,” the high elder stated. “My son informed me of what was done there. I have no problem with the matter.”

Turning around, Elder Barrow bowed before the man who ran the Colony. “Nay, it is not about that, your high honor.”

High Elder Chamberlain’s eyes narrowed. “Then sit and we will discuss whatever has brought you here.”

The two men had known one another since childhood and both had vied for the primary job as high elder. Their relationship was not the best but both strove to put aside personal dislikes of the other for the good of their people.

Elder Barrow waited until the high elder was seated before he took the other chair. He cleared his throat. “I will come straight to the matter,” he said. “I fear your daughter has acted impiously.”

High Elder Chamberlain arched a thick, brown brow. “Which of my daughters? I have five.”

“Rachel,” Elder Barrow said in a tone that suggested his high honor should have known which one.

The high elder exhaled a long, annoyed breath. “What has she done?”

“She touched the Reaper in an inappropriate way.”

“I know she bathed him.”

“This was later,” Elder Barrow stated. “When they were alone.”

“Touched him where?”

“Upon his vitals.”

Shock widened the gaze of the high elder. “You know this for truth?”

“The Reaper himself said as much though it seems he places the blame for the wickedness at his own door.”

For a long moment, the high elder said nothing then his face turned as hard as flint. “Daphne!” he bellowed, his hands gripping the arms of the chair in which he sat.

The maid hurried in. Her hands were clasped together, the fingers twisting around and around one another. It was obvious from the fear stamped on her face she thought she was about to be charged with some misdeed.

“Fetch Rachel,” the high elder snapped, not bothering to look at the maid.

Elder Barrow could not stop the smile that pulled at his thin lips as the girl practically ran from the receiving chamber. He looked to the high elder. “I thought you should know.”

“You did as was expected,” High Elder Chamberlain growled.

It was only a matter of minutes before Rachel appeared, her lower lip tucked between her teeth. As soon as she saw Elder Barrow, her face paled and she began to tremble.

“Come here, girl!” her father ordered.

Rachel came forward like the condemned walking to an execution. Her teeth were chattering and her breathing short and shallow.

High Elder Chamberlain barely glanced at her before turning his attention to the leaping flames. “I am told you touched the Reaper in an ungodly way. Is this true?”

Rachel whimpered. Tears flooded her eyes. “Aye, your high honor,” she answered.

The high elder stiffened. “Did he bid you put your hand upon his vitals or did you do so of your own wickedness?”

Rachel was shivering so violently, she could barely get the words out. “I…I do not know what c-came over me,” she managed to stutter.

“A handsome face and well-formed body!” her father hissed. He slowly swiveled his head toward her, casting her a look of disgust. “Did he pierce your maidenhead?”

“No,” Rachel cried.

“Did he touch you there?”

She could not form the word and merely nodded, her face a deep infusion of red, tears streaking down her cheeks.

High Elder Chamberlain switched his attention from his daughter’s shameful countenance to Elder Barrow. “Thank you, Elder Barrow, for informing me of the wicked conduct of this woman. I will handle it from here.”

Elder Barrow got to his feet, knowing he was being dismissed. He cast a revolted look at Rachel, bowed to the high elder then took his leave.

For ten minutes the high elder said nothing more to his daughter. When he slowly got to his feet, she moved back, cringing before the look of revulsion on his face. He said nothing to her. He lifted one hand and pointed a rigid finger toward a door beside the stairs.

Rachel whimpered, unable to keep from doing so, and began walking toward the door.

* * * * *

Glyn injected the second vac-syringe of pairilis into Owen’s neck. “That should do it,” he told Owen. “How’s the head?”

The pain had begun to diminish with the first injection. With the second one, the last of the debilitating pounding slowly faded. The nausea had already left him and thanks to an additional injection of pledax—a very strong antibiotic—the fever, itching and burning were gone. Owen was on his way to recovery.

“I feel pretty good,” Owen replied. “I’m hungry as hell though.”

“For solid food or Sustenance?” Iden asked.

“Both.”

“That’s a good sign,” Glyn declared. He unbuttoned his left sleeve, rolled it up and then held out his wrist. “Here, take whatcha need.”

Owen grinned. “You sure?”

“Reaper blood will go a long way in helping you get over the tenerse poisoning,” Glyn said. “Just don’t make it a habit.”

Owen understood the warning. He had overstepped his boundaries by abusing the drug, no matter the reason he had for doing so. He also knew nothing else would ever be said by the two men there in the room with him nor would they like it if he gave them his thanks. They saw it as their duty. He bent his head over Glyn’s extended arm and sank his fangs into the other Reaper’s flesh.

Glyn waited patiently for Owen to take what he needed then stepped aside as Iden offered his own arm to Owen. Rolling his sleeve back down and re-buttoning the cuff, Glyn took a seat in a ladder-back chair and leaned back, the front legs of the chair off the uncarpeted floor. “Everything’s all right now between Bev and Lea,” he commented. “Took some doing but things are back to normal.”