WINDKEEPER (52 page)

His father had been right, Conar agreed begrudgingly. She was trim and she carried herself well despite the faint limp. Even if she was hideously deformed beneath the safety of that gods-be-damned veil, the rest of her wouldn’t be so bad to mount. He snorted and felt his father’s hand on his shoulder, squeezing none too gently.

King Shaz reached the altar rail, stepped up the three steps, held out his hand for his daughter to join him, and then escorted her the few feet forward to her husband. The King’s beatific smile was glorious to behold.

Seeing that smile and the faint exchange of looks between the King and Queen of Oceania, Conar couldn’t help but groan beneath his breath. As well he might grin like a jackanapes, Conar thought viciously. The King was getting rid of the bitchlet! Conar looked back at the girl, now only two feet away from him.

Her wedding dress had been a gift to her from the people of her homeland. Lovingly sewn by over a hundred ladies from all over the country, the gown had traveled from town to town with as many as three hundred pairs of hands fashioning the adornments, lace, netting, undergarments, and slippers. The worth of the gown left no doubt in anyone’s mind why the dress had made its journey with dozens of guards in attendance.

Conar had to admit the gown, if not the woman wearing it, took his breath away.

Kaileel swung his gaze from Conar’s stunned face to the woman who had joined them. Being the kind of man he was, he was oblivious to the curvaceous form beneath the priceless gown, but his greed valued it with close scrutiny and he was impressed.

"Who has come to the Joining this night?" Tohre asked.

"I, King Shaz Wynth of Oceania, have come to ask the Great God’s blessing."

"And why have you come, King Shaz of Oceania?"

"To bring this man’s bride, the Princess Anya Elizabeth Wynth, Firstborn Daughter of Oceania, for her Joining."

"And has this woman a mother to ask for the blessing of mating?"

Queen Medea didn’t glance at Kaileel Tohre. Her gaze was intent on Conar. "I, Queen Medea Brell Wynth of Oceania, have come to ask the Great God’s blessing on my daughter’s Joining."

"And can you vouch for your daughter’s purity?"

Medea smiled at Conar. "I give my word of honor as this woman’s mother, and as her Sovereign Queen, that this man is her first." Her face shadowed as she watched Conar’s face twist into a line of bitter scorn.

"Then I declare her worthy as this man’s bride."

Conar glanced away from Medea’s worried face. Did the woman think he was going to fall into a screaming fit at any minute? Why was it necessary to stare at him in that way? Where the hell did she think he could go? Where the hell did she think he would be allowed to go?

"And do you, King Shaz of Oceania, vouch for your daughter that she is not, nor has she ever been, betrothed to another?"

"I do." Shaz reached for his wife’s hand as he joined her opposite Conar and his father and aunt. "Since birth, she has been betrothed to Prince Conar and no other."

"Then I declare this woman worthy of her new husband’s loyalty."

Conar wondered if any man had ever kissed the lips behind that veil to tempt her to adultery. With a revolting surge of his belly, he wondered if she even had lips to kiss.

"And who has come to seek a mate for the Joining?" Kaileel’s hawk-like stare went to Conar.

Only the slightest hesitation showed on Conar’s part. He stepped forward with grim determination and deliberately looked into the hateful face that glared at his own.

"I, Conar Aleksandro McGregor, Prince Regent of Serenia, have come to seek a mate for the Joining."

King Shaz could see the fury brimming in the young man’s icy eyes as he glared at the High Priest.

"Who comes to be joined with this man?" Kaileel had to strain to hear the grating whisper of sound that came from behind the thick veil.

"I, Princess Anya Elizabeth Wynth, Firstborn Daughter of Oceania, have come to be united with this man."

Kaileel looked to Conar. "Do you accept this woman, Prince Conar?"

Conar couldn’t look at Kaileel’s smug face, couldn’t stand looking at Medea’s pitying one or Shaz’s suddenly angry visage. Nor did he want to look at the girl, so he kept his head down. His voice was totally devoid of inflection as he spoke. "I accept her."

Kaileel was disappointed. He thought Conar had more spunk. He had fully expected the boy to balk. He decided to press the issue.

"Of your own free will?"

King Gerren glowered at the priest. That was not part of the wording of the wedding ritual.

Conar’s gut was twisting so painfully, his head throbbing so terribly he didn’t realize Kaileel Tohre was prolonging his misery. "Aye," he said, barely able to breathe. "Of my own free will."

Again Kaileel was denied his pleasure and twisted the knife deeper. "Without coercion?"

"Aye, without coercion."

Kaileel’s face narrowed with hatred. "Do you swear this is by your own choice and that you are not being forced into this Joining?"

"Tohre!" Gerren hissed, but was ignored.

Conar looked at Kaileel Tohre. With sudden understanding, he knew what the man was about. That knowledge cut through him like the knife Kaileel had used on him as a boy. There was nothing Tohre liked better than seeing him in pain, of any kind, and his wedding day would be no exception. "Aye, Kaileel, I swear," he said so softly only the High Priest could hear, and tears began to sparkle at the corner of his long lashes.

Tohre turned his face toward the King of Oceania. "Is this woman given freely to this man?"

Shaz raised his chin. He had also realized what the priest was trying to do and he sent Kaileel a look of spite. "Aye, she is given freely and without coercion."

An angry, grating sound came from behind the veil. "And I have accepted Prince Conar as my husband of my own free will, without coercion or duress." The husky voice turned softer. "He, I have chosen as my own. He and none other."

Spite darkened Kaileel Tohre’s face as he held Conar’s stare. Without taking his attention from the young Prince, he asked the final question that would seal Conar’s fate. "Is there one among you who has reason to believe this Joining should not take place or that it would be invalid?"

Teal wanted to speak out. Legion wanted to cry out to the priest to stop. But neither man spoke.

When there was no answer from those assembled, Kaileel once more raised his hands, arms wide, palms down this time, and loudly proclaimed, "I declare this Joining can be made!"

From his place in the far recesses of the Chancel, Legion watched as Kaileel Tohre sent daggers of hate toward the two young people standing before him. Even the slowest of wit could see how furious the High Priest was that the ceremony had not been stopped in some way. His thin body was quivering with rage.

Listening to the man chanting, only partially paying attention to his entreaties to Alel to give His blessing to the ceremony, Legion found himself looking at the girl standing beside his brother and wishing with all his heart that it was Liza who would be Joining with Conar this day.

Such thoughts, he knew, were dangerous. Not only to Conar, but to him, as well. A part of him had rejoiced at Conar’s promise of betrothing Liza to him. He was too afraid to examine his love for the girl for he feared it would rival the love Conar had for her.

"You have come here to bear witness to this Joining," Kaileel said, breaking into Legion’s thoughts. "Let those of you who see this ritual know: In the eyes of his god, through dispensation given to him by Tribunal Law, with the permission of his father and King, and the blessings of this woman’s parents and sovereigns, in the presence of his peers, and at the jurisdiction of my hands given by authority as a prelate of the Brothers of the Wind, I declare His Royal Highness, Prince Conar Aleksandro McGregor, bound by laws both preternatural and temporal, to submit himself to this Joining." The High Priest’s mouth eased into a leering grin of anticipation. "Disrobe him."

Legion saw Conar flinch. It was part of the ceremony, had been the reason Conar had left his tunic laces untied, but something other than proscribed ritual had made his brother start. He was staring at Kaileel Tohre with abject terror on his face.

"Are you well, my Prince?" Kaileel asked with concern, his smiling lips tight with malice.

"He’s fine," Dyreil sneered as she stepped in front of her nephew. Her slender fingers went to the tincture of golden links around his waist and unhooked the heavy belt, handing it to Coron when the younger McGregor brother came to her side. She put her hands on the cuff bracelets and removed them as well, handing them to Dyllon.

As she reached up to draw the golden loop from Conar’s earlobe, her eyes went to his face and she smiled, willing him to answer, but although his gaze held hers, the young man did not smile. His face was blank, and his lips, a thin, straight line. He blinked as the earring was removed, but showed no other emotion. Her smile wavered as she put her hands to either side of his neck and took hold of the heavy serpentine chain of the Wind Warrior necklace that dangled about his neck. Empress Dyreil gazed down at the top of his shining hair as he bent forward so she could remove the medallion. When he straightened and his eyes again locked with hers, she could see the sheen of tears in those blue depths. It hurt her deeply and she broke with tradition, standing on tiptoe to plant a light kiss on his cheek.

Conar’s face twisted with pain. He wanted to bury his face in her shoulder, to sob, to wail, to do anything, say anything, that would stop this thing from happening. He tensed, opened his mouth to speak, but her soft words stopped him.

"Remember who you are, son," she told him, gently warning him that he was honor bound to go through with the ceremony.

Conar’s lips closed. He felt her reassuring hand on his arm, squeezing softly in comfort, as she moved behind him once more. Then, he found his father in front of him. The King’s face was devoid of expression.

Gerren put his hands on the front of his son’s tunic and spread the laces further apart. He slid his fingers beneath the neck opening and pushed the soft material over his son’s shoulders, down his arms and over his hips until it lay in a silken pool at his feet. He barely glanced at his youngest son as Dyllon bent down to retrieve the garment when Conar stepped out of it.

Looking at his son, the King saw the torture of this ordeal lurking behind lowered lashes. It cut him to the quick to view the pleading in those too bright orbs as Conar raised his eyes and fused his gaze with his father’s. He looked away from the condemnation on his son’s face and, as he did, he saw the thin strands of black braided silk around his son’s right wrist.

No, not silk, he realized, but human hair! His mouth dropped open. Black human hair. His look flew to Conar’s.

He held his father’s shocked stare, daring him to touch the precious braid. The ritual called for him to be completely naked from the waist up, to be divested of all adornment since the marriage bracelet would have to be soldered around his arm and he could wear no other jewels until then. But this was no jewel, no adornment. No band of gold or silver or copper around his wrist. This was Liza’s hair and he would not part with it. He stared back at his father, his King, with hot challenge.

Gerren saw the defiance emblazoned on his son’s still face and knew if he so much as reached for the bracelet, Conar would end the ceremony then and there. With a slight shake of his head in admonishment, he reconciled himself to this impossible turn of events and stepped back.

Kaileel Tohre had not missed the exchange between father and son. He, too, had seen the bracelet and knew exactly what it was and to whom it belonged. He bit his tongue to keep from shouting at the King that it had to be removed. He ground his teeth, forcing himself to wait for the right moment to chastise Conar for breaking the law. His voice was almost pleasant as he commanded Conar to help his woman kneel.

Relieved that his father had not pressed the point, Conar didn’t hesitate before offering his hand to the woman at his side. He barely glanced at her as she took his hand, but he couldn’t help flinching at the coldness of her fingers as they nestled in his palm. With a mental shrug he reminded himself that toads were cold blooded anyway and was thankful her flesh wasn’t slimy to the touch.

Conar kept his attention straight ahead, behind the altar where Kaileel stood. Kneeling beside his bride, he found his gaze locked with the fierce, avenging glare of the god Clere.

"This man and this woman now kneel before god and man in obedience to the wishes of Alel. Here, before god and man, they will pledge themselves only unto one another. One flesh, one inseparable entity, until the end of their lives."

Kaileel lowered his gaze to Conar’s bleak face and a small smile of satisfaction touched his thin lips. Aye, my sweet Prince, he thought, for the rest of your miserable life. His voice was threaded with amusement as he looked up at those gathered and went on with the ritual.

Legion’s attention was riveted to the woman at Conar’s side. Her head was bowed as though she were at prayer and her slim right hand rested lightly on his brother’s raised forearm, the fingers curving down over his flesh in a soft grip. Even from the distance at which he stood, Legion could see her thumb moving slowly on Conar’s arm, stroking the side closest to her, and he knew his brother wasn’t even aware the woman was caressing him.

Kaileel’s unpleasant voice broke Legion’s stare and he heard the words the man was saying, frowning as memories flooded his mind.

He saw the Blessed Waters of Purification sprinkled over them and thought back to that long gone day when he had thrown Conar into the pond near Lake Myria.

As the Oils of Chastity were marked upon their chests, he remembered the time when he and Conar were little and they had stolen some of the sacred oils from the Temple. They had set fire to their father’s favorite chair in an effort to see if the consecrated oils would burn, for it was rumored they would not. The oil hadn’t, but the chair had gone up in flames which also set fire to the carpet and drapes.