WindLegends Saga 9: WindRetriever (10 page)

The astonishment drew down into a heavy scowl. "Wishful thinking on her part, no doubt,"

Conar grumbled.

"No doubt," Sajin agreed with a grin.

There was another rap at the door and Conar flung himself down in the bunk and flipped over, his back to the door. "If that's her again, tell her to stop bothering me!"

Sajin chuckled and bid the visitor enter. His grin faded abruptly when he found the captain of his ship standing in the doorway.

"My apologies, Your Grace," the Captain said, "but it's looks as though we are in for a bad blow. I would like your permission to put in. Ghandar Cove isn't all that far from where are."

Sajin nodded. "Whatever you think best, Abdul. I'll leave it up to you."

The Captain bowed respectfully. "Thank you, Your Grace." He glanced at the Serenian.

"How is His Grace feeling?"

"He's alive," Conar growled. "Much to some people's dismay."

Sajin winked at his Captain. "And it such a good mood!"

Abdul smiled. "I can see that, Your Grace." He bowed again and left.

"You aren't any worse, are you?" Sajin asked.

"No."

"You need anything?"

"No."

"You sure?"

Conar ground his teeth. "Aye, I'm sure!"

Sajin swung himself from the bunk and stood up. "Then I'll be going." He headed for the door.

Conar looked over his shoulder. "Going where?"

An amused look passed over Sajin's swarthy face. "Cat invited me to come sit with her awhile."

The Outlander's sapphire blue eyes narrowed. "And of course you accepted."

"Isn't that what you wanted?" Sajin asked. "Me and Cat together?" He almost laughed at the look of anger which flashed over his friend's face. "You did say you were giving her to me, didn't you?"

Jealousy tightened the Serenian's mouth before he turned his head away and laid back down. "You shouldn't keep the woman waiting, nomad," he ground out. He gripped his pillow beneath his cheek. "She doesn't like to be kept waiting."

"So I'm learning," Sajin quipped, seeing his friend stiffen on the bunk. He had to get out of the room quickly before he lost his composure and chuckled aloud. "I'll send someone in to check on you."

As soon as the door closed, Conar flipped over to his back and glared up at the planking above him. His eyes were filled with hurt, but his lips were pressed so tightly together there was a white line circling them. He reached up and behind him and grabbed the brass railing that ran the width of the bunk and tugged furiously at it.

"Damn you, Catherine!" he snarled from between his clenched teeth.

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He could just imagine her entertaining the nomad in her cabin. Serving him tea. Smiling at him. Laughing at the things he said. Flirting with him.

"Shit!" Conar exploded, yanking hard on the rail.

Aye, he thought with growing fury. She'll be flirting with the bastard and he'll be flirting with her. She'll smile that cat-like smile at him and reach out to put her hand on his arm and....

"The gods damn it!!" Conar shouted. He snarled as he jerked on the brass rail with all his strength. His blood was pounding in his temples and the headache, only a minor nuisance a moment before, went full-blown and a tiny trickle of blood seeped from his left nostril.

How long will you wait, Catherine, he wondered? Six months? A year? How long does it take for an annulment to go through in the Outer Kingdom? What is the respectable passage of time before you can marry that mincing pog? Will you even wait that long before you allow him into your bed?

The thought of his wife lying in Sajin Ben-Alkazar's arms brought a forceful grunt of insane jealousy to the Serenian's throat and he tore his hands from the brass rail and sat bolt upright in the bed.

You've got no one to blame for this but yourself, he heard that wicked inner voice taunting him. You can't protect her against your enemies. You can't keep her out of harm's way. But the nomad can. He can do for Catherine what you can't. He'll be there for her when you won't be.

He'll make her the kind of husband she deserves.

The pain in his right eye was becoming unbearable and he dug the heel of his hand against it, nearly whimpering with the agony that action brought. He started to get up, to go to Catherine's cabin, but suddenly the light dimmed around him, then blurred, then blinked off for a moment. A bolt of pain shot through his head and he pitched backwards on the bunk, digging his hands into his scalp. He squeezed his eyes shut, then forced them wide open. The light switched back on.

"What's happening to me?" he cried, pressing his temples tightly to contain the agony throbbing there.

Outside, the storm increased as the ship made for safe harbor at Ghandar Cove.

Catherine flinched as thunder boomed overhead. She looked up sheepishly at Sajin. "I can handle the storm. It's the loud noise that unnerves me."

Sajin smiled. "I'm not all that thrilled with it, either."

"Is there a town at the cove?" she asked, wrapping her shawl more tightly around her to shut out the damp.

"A few native huts, nothing more," Sajin informed her. "Probably the only time they see strangers is during storms. This coastline is famous for horrendous squalls."

"I wish it were nice weather," she said wistfully. "I like to explore new places."

"I'll bring you back when we're…." Sajin stopped, his cheeks burning a fierce red. He looked away from the inquiring look on Catherine's face.

"When we're what, Sajin?" she asked politely.

"Ah," he stammered, searching for the right words. He looked up. "Back this way." His smile wavered, then settled in a look that was almost comical.

Catherine nodded. She toyed with the fringe on her shawl. "I don't know why it surprises me that he has already picked out his own replacement," she said.

Sajin's blush blanched away. "I beg your pardon?"

She looked up. "The man's arrogance apparently knows no bounds." As she spoke, she twirled one length of fringe around her index finger. "He likes you. He respects you. Naturally Charlotte Boyett-Compo WINDRETRIEVER 45

you would be his first choice."

Suddenly the nomad's collar was too tight and he put up a finger to loosen it. "I'm not sure I understand your meaning."

Catherine's smile was slow and predatory. "Oh, I think you do, Sajin." She let out a long breath. "There's only one problem."

Sajin's brows came together. "What kind of problem?"

She shrugged. "Only a minor one, really." Looking up, forging her gaze with his, the nomad saw the hazel orbs harden and cool. "I have no intention of divorcing him or allowing him to divorce me."

Ben-Alkazar's world tilted on its axis. "Is that possible?"

"Quite possible," she agreed. She lifted her chin. "You do realize that what I am saying to you, here, in this cabin, is to go no further, do you not, Prince Sajin?"

The nomad frowned. "Catherine, Conar is my friend and I…."

"On your honor as royalty, milord," she stressed. Her gaze sharpened. "On your honor as a Knight."

Sajin groaned. "Catherine, don't make me...."

"On your honor!" she repeated.

"He has a right to know!" Sajin argued. "If you intend to keep him…."

"I do," Catherine answered. "I took my vows to him quite seriously, Sajin, even if he did not."

"This isn't right, Catherine," Sajin tried again. "For either of you. Even if your courts won't allow the annulment, Serenia's probably will. He's the law in his homeland, milady."

Catherine ignored his reasoning. "I want your promise, Sajin Ben-Alkazar, that you will not tell him what we discussed here this afternoon."

"I don't know that...." Sajin saw her face turn hostile. "Catherine, please don't…."

"I want your promise," she repeated.

He stared at her for a moment. "You're making a mistake, Catherine."

She shrugged. "It's my mistake to make and his to pay for," she replied. "If he can't protect one wife, he can't protect another, so what difference does it make if we are married or not?"

"He wants you happy!" Sajin protested.

Catherine's gaze softened, turned weary. "Without him, there will be no happiness." She put her hand on her protruding belly. "Our child may grow up never knowing her father, but she will at least grow up knowing her mother is legally married to the man who sired her."

Hurt flashed across Sajin's face before he lowered it. "I care for you, Catherine. I would make a good home for you and the babe."

She bit her lip. "I know you would, but I don't love you, Sajin." When he looked up at her, she smiled tenderly. "You are a good friend and I love you for that, but there will be only one man in this lifetime for me and that man is Conar McGregor."

"He's going to be furious when he finds out what you've got planned," Sajin warned.

"No more furious than I was when I found out what HE had planned," Catherine replied.

She stared hard at him. "I want your word, Sajin."

He hesitated, weighing the lesser of the two evils. If he didn't tell Conar, the man would never forgive him. But he didn't really see anything Conar could do about it. Even should he have the courts in Serenia put aside the marriage, it wouldn't matter to Catherine or to the people of the Outer Kingdom. To them, Conar and Catherine would remain husband and wife.

If he did tell Conar, he thought with a grimace, that would only make matters worse. Conar Charlotte Boyett-Compo WINDRETRIEVER 46

still couldn't do anything about Catherine's decision and quite likely such knowledge would only serve to heighten Conar's anger.

"Well?" Catherine demanded.

"I think you're wrong," Sajin replied.

"But?"

The nomad sighed heavily. "I won't tell him."

As soon as the Tempest was anchored in Gandhar Cove, Rupine wove his way to Conar's cabin. After tapping lightly on the door, he went in and quietly called the Serenian's name. The young man was lying with his back to the door. When he received no answer, Rupine tiptoed out again, gently closing the door behind him.

"Is he sleeping?" Balizar asked. Rupine nodded. "That's good."

If either man had known Conar McGregor was lying unconscious, blood caked under his nostrils, they would not have gone so blithely on their way.

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Chapter Seven

He stared in the mirror and was alarmed at what he saw. The dark rust stain spread out from his left nostril and fanned along his scarred cheek made him grip the wash basin tightly. His eyes were sunken in his head and his complexion was far too sallow for his liking. His vision was somewhat blurred and the cabin seemed darker than it should be. Reaching up a trembling right hand, he plowed his fingers through his hair. He knew something was wrong, terribly wrong with him. When the knock came at his door, he swung his head toward it, grimacing as blinding pain slashed through his forehead and radiated down his neck.

"Who is it?" he managed to call out, wincing at the sound of his own voice.

"Me. Sajin. How come you got the door locked?"

"Just a minute," he answered. He lowered his head, whimpering with pain as the motion brought tears to his eyes. Scooping up the tepid water in the basin, he quickly began to wash away the crusted blood on his face.

"Conar?"

"Just a minute!" the Serenian snapped.

"Are you all right?" Sajin's voice was filled with concern.

"I'm pissing!" came the thunderous reply through the door. "Do you mind?"

Sajin sighed with relief. He leaned his forehead against the door. "I can wait."

"So nice of you!" was the snort.

He scrubbed at his face, then looked into the mirror to see if the tell-tale stain was gone.

Satisfied that it was, he dumped the contents of the basin into the chamber pot and nudged the porcelain container into one dark corner of the cabin. Checking his appearance once more, he walked to the door, bumping into a chair he had not seen, and threw the bolt.

"Can't a man even piss in private on this damned ship?" he barked as he stumbled his way back to the bunk.

"Good morning to you, too," Sajin grinned. He shut the door. "How are you feeling?"

Conar had thrown himself down on the bunk, once more facing the cabin wall. "Stop hovering over me, nomad!" he grumbled. "I'm all right."

"And so personable, too," Sajin answered.

"Eat shit and die, Ben-Alkazar," Conar hissed.

"We'll be sailing in a few minutes," Sajin told him, chuckling at the irate tone. "Are you hungry? The rest of us have eaten already."

Conar's stomach revolted at the thought. "Maybe later."

An immediate look of worry passed over the Kensetti's face. "Is your head hurting again?"

"No," was the bitter reply, "but you're killing me with your incessant nosiness. Why don't you go bother Catherine?"

The Kensetti Prince stood there for a moment, then shrugged. "You want me to have Rupine look in on you?"

"No, I do not!" Conar snapped. "I'd like to go back to sleep, if you don't mind!"

Sajin knew a dismissal when he heard one. "I'll leave you to your moping, then," he retorted and went out again.

Conar clapped his hands over his ears when the thump of the anchor being hoisted rattled the timbers of the ship. The sound of the creaking chain was piercing to his sensitive hearing and it Charlotte Boyett-Compo WINDRETRIEVER 48

made him jam him face down into the protection of the sweat-dampened pillow. He turned over and scrunched up on his knees, driving his upper body into the mattress. Rocking against the agony ripping through his head and neck, he whimpered into the rancid-smelling fabric.