WINDKEEPER (44 page)

"I have been busy," Conar said quietly.

"Well," Shaz said, patting Conar’s back, "I know you regret not having met Anya."

Conar could only nod. He regretted ever having to meet the man’s daughter, he thought with despair.

As he removed his arm from around Conar’s tense shoulder, a slow smile spread over King Shaz’s face. The look he gave Conar said it all. With a jolt, Conar realized the man was laughing at him. "You’ll have a lifetime to get to know one another, though, won’t you, son?" He grinned. "What’s a few carefree days of bachelorhood with your friends, huh?" He laid a strong hand on Conar’s shoulder and squeezed. "I can remember my youth. Gallivanting all about the countryside; getting into mischief"—he lowered his booming, deep voice—"meeting girls!"

Conar nearly groaned. The man knew precisely why he hadn’t come to Oceania to meet his future bride. Just how much Shaz did know worried Conar. With the King’s next words, all doubt about the extent of his knowledge was removed.

"I understand you had some problems with a runaway bondservant? A girl named Liza?" Shaz shook his head. "Heard you had to travel far and wide to bring her back. You must tell me how you handled that situation. I have just such a girl who runs away from time to time. She is a continuous source of irritation to me." Shaz chuckled with mirth as he held Conar’s stunned look. There was a look of challenge on the older man’s face. "How did you settle the situation, Conar?" Shaz lost his smile. "Or is it settled?"

Conar’s father feared what his son might inadvertently say. "Conar’s bachelor days are over, Shaz. There is nothing standing in the way of his marriage to your daughter, is there, Conar? That old problem with the girl who gave him so much trouble is over." The King shot a look of pure malice at his son. "Isn’t it, Conar?"

Conar lowered his head. Liza’s loss still had the power to hurt him deeply. Hearing his father put a finality to it only made the pain run deeper. "Aye, Papa." He glanced up at Shaz’s unsmiling face and saw something lurking there. Was it contempt? Understanding? Spite? Conar couldn’t tell. The man was watching him closely and Conar managed a weak smile. "I will have no more trouble from the girl, Papa."

He wasn’t relieved when King Shaz gave a snort in answer to his reply. "One never knows, though, does one, eh?"

"Your lady-wife does play so beautifully," King Gerren said, trying to change the awkward subject. He had an idea Shaz was aware of Conar’s indiscretion. "Conar, shall we go in and listen to Medea for awhile?" He put his arm tightly around Conar’s shoulder and jerked the young man toward the drawing room.

Upon entering the room, Conar almost tripped over his own feet as he caught sight of the woman seated at the harpsichord, and unknown servant girl standing beside her, turning the pages of her music. The lady was in profile to him, but the long, loose hair that hung to her waist in thick waves was as jet black as a starless night. There was a slimness and curvaceous shape to her that belied the years Conar knew to be hers, and for one heart-stopping moment, he had seen someone else seated at the instrument and his heart had thudded painfully in his chest.

The servant girl turned to look at him. Her lashes lowered and she mumbled something to her mistress.

At the moment the lady turned to face him and her velvet eyes bored straight into his, the breath caught in Conar’s throat and he felt his mouth drop open at the sight of the Queen of Oceania.

Although there was not that much physical resemblance between Queen Medea Wynth and Liza, the emerald eyes were identically shaped and tilted. Long, thick black lashes slipped over the forest green orbs and a taunting smile, so uncannily like that of Liza’s, stretched the full, sensual lips. When the lady spoke, her voice was soft, a sultry breathlessness of melodic tone. "Is this our new son, Shaz?"

"Aye, my love. This is Anya’s husband. What think you of him, Medea?" The King came to stand beside his wife, placing a loving hand on her pale shoulder.

Conar managed to shake the image of Liza from his mind and walk on shaky legs to the lady. Going to one knee before her, taking her proffered hand in his to plant a light kiss on her upturned wrist, he looked up at the Queen and a deep frown marred the smooth flesh of his forehead.

Withdrawing her hand from Conar’s, the Queen put it on the young man’s forehead and smoothed the frown with her fingertips.

"He would be heartbreakingly handsome if he did not frown so!" she teased and glanced up at her servant, who smiled in answer.

"Your pardon, Majesty!" Conar stammered, his face pale with the realization he was not acting as he should. "I was taken aback by your looks."

Medea laughed and her voice was a crystal tinkling of silver bells. "What a compliment, Conar! I have had my looks cause quite a few things in men, but never can I remember them ever causing a frown!"

Conar’s face turned red with humiliation. "I meant no offense, Majesty. I meant to say…that is, I…" His tongue wouldn’t obey.

"Be quiet before you make things worse!" his father hissed. "Get up!"

"Leave him be, Gerren!" Medea scolded. "I was only teasing him." She caressed the flesh of his cheek. "Can you smile for me, Sweeting? I would like to see what all the women find so devastatingly appealing!"

His face deepened in color and he blinked. A genuine smile lit his face at her teasing. "I would imagine men always smile when in your presence, Majesty."

"But some young men frown!" she shot back and giggled.

"I’ll not do so again," he promised, bringing her fingers to his lips.

"He looks somewhat like his portrait, doesn’t he, Liza?" the Queen asked the servant girl.

Conar’s head snapped up and he stared at the girl on the other side of the harpsichord. He was relieved to see she bore no resemblance at all to his lady.

"Aye, Highness, he does somewhat," she agreed in a smoky voice.

"Liza is the girl I was telling you about, Conar; the one who runs away on occasion." Shaz chuckled. "She has a beau in Serenia, don’t you, Liza-love?"

"I did, Highness. But not anymore." She looked steadily at Conar until he looked away.

"A year ago an artist visited from your brother’s keep in Eurus. Anya commissioned a portrait done of you." Medea turned her head slightly to one side. "But I must say the portrait did not do you justice. You are far more handsome." She stood, looking down at his upturned face. "He did not capture the sensuality in those beautiful eyes. Did he, Liza?"

"No, Highness. Not at all."

"You flatter me, Majesty," Conar said with bewilderment. There were undercurrents shifting between the two women he could only guess at. If Queen Medea knew, as her husband obviously did, of his involvement with his own Liza, then perhaps these two women were deliberately baiting him.

The thought didn’t set well with him.

"I would like it if you called me ‘Mother.’ After all, I will be one to you shortly. I must see to our daughter, gentlemen. She is like all new brides and is more nervous than I would have imagined."

"Will she be joining us for the midday meal?" Conar asked a bit too quickly.

The Queen smiled, her eyes twinkling. "You are anxious to see her, aren’t you, Conar?"

King Gerren cleared his throat and Conar glanced sideways at him. There was a stern look on the older man’s face. "Conar has been most anxious to meet his bride." Gerren smiled.

Conar looked away from his father. Aye, Papa, he thought, about as anxious as I am to have a tooth pulled.

Medea laughed. "I am afraid you shall have to wait until your wedding eve, Conar. Our customs prohibit you from seeing her face from the sunset of the day before her wedding until the ceremony has been sanctioned by a holy man. It is a pity you haven’t come to Oceania to visit over the years. You and our daughter would have had time to adjust to one another."

Conar winced. Time to adjust? Adjust to what? His mind filled with horrible images of a hideously slick and corpulent bulk clinging tightly to his arm as he was forced to go walking in the gardens of Serenia with The Toad.

"You must take better care of yourself, Conar," the Queen cautioned. "You look rather green."

He stared at her and saw the same laughing humor he had seen on her husband’s face. One quick look at the servant and he saw the laughter lurking in hers as well.

Well, he thought viciously, his forced smile hard on his lips, they all had reason to be happy. They were getting rid of the amphibious bitch!

"I’ll be fine," he grated through his tight smile.

"Oh, I know you will, dear," Medea told him, patting his cheek as she walked gracefully away. "Come, Liza."

The young Prince stared after the Queen and her servant. Not only because the lady moved with a sexual grace that made men look after her, but because the servant girl limped behind her, rolling from side to side in a slight, listing gait. He turned to Shaz.

"An accident when she was a babe. She fell beneath the wheels of my wife’s coach and her foot was crushed. We took her in to live with us mainly because Medea was so distressed the thing had happened. But there was the added incentive of a father not wanting the burden of a crippled child. More fool, he, for Liza is a delight to all who know her."

"I am sure she is," Conar thought and wondered if something similar had not happened to their own daughter to cause her limp.

"Enough morbidity," Shaz proclaimed. He pointed to the harpsichord. "You play, don’t you, Coni?"

"Aye and quite well. Do play something for us, son," Gerren encouraged.

Conar didn’t really want to, but one look at his father’s stern visage and he seated himself at the harpsichord and ran his fingers over the keys. He was quite adept at the instrument and the song he began to play was executed with style and grace. His long fingers moved over the keys much as they would have a woman’s beautiful body. "Does your daughter play as well as her mother?" he asked to fill the silence more than to actually know whether The Toad played.

"Anya?" Shaz gasped. "No! The girl has two left hands!"

Conar’s fingers tripped over the keys, making a mistake that caused him to wince.

Two left hands, he thought in horror. That might even be true. How many other spare parts did the haglet have? The image of a frog with scores of arms waving in the air flitted through his mind and he banged down hard on a chord, hissing at his flub.

"Pray, play something that does not require mistakes, Conar," Gerren suggested, much put out with his son. He wanted to show Conar in a favorable light and the brat did know how to play.

Softly caressing the keys, running his hands up and down the keyboard, Conar lost himself in the haunting and eerie beauty of an ancient folk song he had learned two summers before. His fingers arched gracefully over the keys and he closed his eyes to the sweet, sad melody, humming it to himself.

Gerren wholeheartedly wished he had kept his mouth shut when he asked his son the name of the beautiful piece.

Conar glanced up at his father and held the inquisitive gaze of the older man. "Shall I sing it for you, Papa?"

"Aye!" Gerren agreed. The boy had a good voice, as well. Not as good as the du Mer boy, but a helluva sight better than Legion! "Sing for us!"

"The name of the song is ‘The Prince’s Lost Lady.’ In a clear, deep voice, he began to sing:

"Where are you going, my lady, my love? Where are you going this day?

"Said she to him, ‘It shall not take long; For I go but a very short way.’

"And how long will you be, my lady, my love, how long will you be gone this day?

"Said she, ‘I’ll be gone a very long while; And will not be back this way.’;

"Will she ever return, my lady, my love?" he begged of her mother one night;

"Said she, ‘I fear my daughter is dead; And will never return to our sight.’

"He mourned for the lady, his lady, his love; He wept for her night and day;

"Said he, ‘I will go to meet my love; For I believe I have found the way.’

"He took to his bed in the fading light; Turned his eyes to the sky above;

"Said he, ‘I seek what I know I shall find; I go to be with my love.’

"They laid him down in the green, green grass. On the hills overlooking the town.

"And on his grave they carved these lines: The Prince’s Lost Lady Is Found."

Silence filled the room as the last note sounded. Conar sat over the keyboard, lost in thought. His voice had wavered on the last line and he was valiantly trying to recover his composure.

"That was a very lovely song, Conar," Shaz said quietly, placing his hand on Conar’s slumped shoulder. "Very beautifully sung. I have heard it many, many times before, but never have I heard it sung with such emotion."

"Thank you, Majesty," Conar answered and was surprised at the reassuring squeeze the King gave him before removing his hand. He looked up into those warm brown eyes and saw, what?—Pity?—Remorse? Surely not.

"Will your son, Legion, be joining us, Gerren?" Shaz asked. "I have heard he is quite a warrior. I would very much like to meet him."

"He’d be honored to meet you, Shaz." Gerren beamed.

"And Conar?" Shaz turned to his son-in-law as Conar stood. "I hear you have a good friend here, also. Is it du Mer?"

"Aye, Majesty," Conar agreed. "He lives with me most of the time. His father was Duke Cul du Mer of Downsgate." He frowned in concern. "Why do you ask?" He hoped Teal hadn’t already gotten into any trouble with Shaz’s entourage.

Shaz chuckled. "I have heard he’s a very good card player and I thought we could all sit down to a game or two this afternoon after the meal. Would he join us, do you think?"

"He’ll turn cartwheels to do so, Majesty." Conar grinned. "He feels put out when someone important comes to visit and we don’t invite him to join in."

"Why wouldn’t you invite him?"

"Teal isn’t known for his diplomacy, Shaz," Gerren answered for his son. "He’s a lovable young cur, but he has this impossible bad habit of not thinking before he speaks. I don’t include him all that often because you never know what he’ll come up with next. He was a constant embarrassment to Cul. Teal’s mother was a gypsy dancer and I fear he has her love of getting into mischief."