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    Crystal Moon

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      to do her bidding. Her hands trembled as she collected the

      medicines and instruments she would need to treat Graham.

      She quickly directed the two boys in removing Althea’s

      narrow cot and setting up the larger bed, then she laid out her

      supplies on the room’s small table. Ground alt root would lessen

      the swelling, but would do little to ease his pain. If only she had

      some nika root.

      She hadn’t lied when she told Kyne of the nika plant’s

      medicinal benefits. Only the strong narcotic would keep Graham

      unconscious while she manipulated his bones into proper

      alignment. Could she convince Kyne to procure some nika root?

      If not, a double dose of alt was her only alternative, but would

      it do?

      Neither herb nor narcotic could knit Graham’s shattered

      bones into usable limbs. She must join her ka with his, absorb

      his injuries into herself, and use her innate skill to mend bone

      and muscle. While she didn’t fear the physical pain of joining

      with him, the thought of the mental anguish daunted her. Because

      he already called himself dead and because he mistrusted her,

      his ka would fight her healing. The risk was great—to both of

      them.

      A commotion in the courtyard told her the caravan had

      arrived. She stepped out of Althea’s chamber, and her gaze

      clashed with Kyne’s. No softness lurked in his dark stare.

      “Bring him in here.” She had no time for Kyne’s

      recriminations. Graham’s life took precedence.

      Like a big cat intent on destroying his prey, Kyne stalked

      toward her. Standing her ground, she forced herself not to recoil

      from her sudden awareness of his turbulent emotions.

      He leaned close, and the heat of his body—potent with the

      smell of sweat, blood and death—washed over her. “I’ll not let

      you finish what your father started.” His whisper reached only

      her ears. “Where’s Althea?”

      Sianna grabbed his arm. Emotions lashed her—guilt, grief

      and fury swirled like a whirlwind within Kyne. Unwilling to risk

      draining her energy in a fruitless attempt to ease his turmoil,

      she jerked away. “Althea is an old woman. She hasn’t the vigor

      to treat Graham’s injuries. Let me help him. I’ll not hurt him.”

      His hand gripped her shoulder, and his thumb pressed into

      the hollow of her throat, a reminder that he held her life in his

      hands. For the first time she actually feared Kyne would do her

      physical harm. Pushing aside her apprehension, she projected

      an aura of peace, serenity and a confidence she didn’t truly

      feel.

      “Trust me, Kyne.”

      “I’d as soon trust a hungry water worm in my bath.” He

      spoke of the large parasitic worms that lived and bred in stagnant

      water and fed by burrowing into living flesh. His fingers dug

      painfully into her neck. “But I have no choice. If Graham dies,

      you die.”

      She nodded. In the healing Graham’s ka and her own would

      merge. If one perished, so would the other. Her affection for

      the man decreed she help him. “I accept your terms. Now

      bring him to me.”

      Kyne’s gaze searched her face, then he directed three men

      to carefully lift Graham’s blanket-draped body. Graham

      stiffened and screamed, then went limp. The men carried him

      into the small chamber, placed him on the bed, and departed.

      Kyne stepped into the room and stood behind Sianna as she

      pulled away the blanket. She couldn’t contain her gasp of horror.

      Feeling Graham’s pain had not prepared her for the sight of his

      injuries.

      One leg was broken in three places, the thigh and twice

      below the knee, the limb twisted and bulging. The other leg

      was broken above his knee, ragged bone protruding through

      skin and cloth. Blood still seeped from the torn flesh and soaked

      his trousers.

      “The price for the captured caravan was too steep.” Kyne’s

      hoarse whisper made Sianna turn to him. He rubbed the ache

      at his neck, but she knew nothing could ease the pain in his

      heart. “You’ll need at least four men to hold him while you

      amputate.”

      “No!” Graham surged up on his elbows. “You’ll not take

      my legs!” Sweat beaded on his chalky, pain-racked face.

      Sianna circled his tense shoulders with her arms and tried

      to ease him back. “No one will do anything you don’t want us

      to. I promise.”

      Kyne’s fingers dug painfully into her arm. “Don’t promise

      him what you can’t deliver, woman!”

      She tried to shake him off. “Please leave. You’re upsetting

      him needlessly. I’ll decide the course of his treatment.” Beneath

      her hands, Graham’s muscles started to relax.

      “If you don’t amputate quickly, infection will set in, and

      he’ll die. There’s no choice to be made. It’s your legs or your

      life,” Kyne told Graham.

      Graham glared at Kyne and struggled against Sianna’s hold.

      “Then let me die. I’ll not go through life half a man.”

      Patience gone, Sianna shouted, “Enough! Would you two

      fight all the way to the gates of eternity?”

      Eyes closed, Graham collapsed onto the bed, his strength

      spent. “Oblivion’s gates more likely,” he murmured in a feeble

      flash of his normal humor.

      Kyne snapped his mouth into a tight line which promised

      retribution.

      “How does he fare?” Laila stood in the doorway.

      “Not well,” Kyne answered. “The fool has decided to die.”

      “Are his injuries so severe?”

      “Not fatal, but crippling. His legs were crushed when his

      quinar rolled over him during the battle. He refuses to consider

      amputation.” Kyne spoke to Laila but looked at Sianna.

      She avoided his gaze and worked at cutting away Graham’s

      dirty, blood-soaked trousers. Though his eyes were closed, she

      knew Graham was aware of what went on. Pain sapped his

      strength, but not his will.

      “Perhaps it’s better he die.”

      Laila’s seemingly callous disregard for Graham’s life spurred

      Kyne’s vehemence. “He’ll not die. I’ll not permit him to. Graham

      is strong enough to survive. He must. Our people need him.”

      I need him.

      As clearly as if he had spoken, Sianna heard his thought.

      Startled by the unexpected connection between them, she

      glanced up. But already he masked his emotions.

      “Give him a reason to live, or he will die. Help him find

      something to replace the use of his legs—if you can.” Laila’s

      strained whisper hinted at things lost and motives found for

      living. Still dressed in the same stained clothing, fresh blood and

      dirt layered over old, she had a fevered, haunted look in her

      red-rimmed eyes. Her loss allowed her no respite.

      “Graham!” Katya’s yell pierced the unnatural silence of

      the great hall. “Let me through. Where is he?”

      Sianna turned aside the jumble of conflicting emotions

      preceding Katya as she pushed past Laila and stumbled into

      the chamber. Kyne caught her by the
    shoulders before she

      barreled into Sianna who leaned protectively over Graham.

      “Let me go! I must see him!”

      Kyne held tight, blocking her view of Graham. “No, Katya.

      He doesn’t want you to see him like this. Allow him that dignity.”

      “Let me go to him. Please, Kyne. We parted with angry

      words. I have to tell him...I’m sorry...I didn’t mean what I

      said...please, I love him...I didn’t know... didn’t realize...” Her

      voice trailed off into broken sobs, and her body sagged into his.

      “Let her in.” Sianna covered Graham’s lower body with

      the blanket. Other than his drawn and too pale face, Graham

      looked unchanged. Katya needed to see him, and soon he would

      need her strength. Would her love be enough to instill him with

      the will to live? Sianna prayed it would. Her skill alone would

      not suffice.

      Kyne’s gaze met Sianna’s. At her silent nod, he loosened

      his hold on Katya. Cheeks wet with tears, she stumbled forward

      and sank to her knees beside the bed. Tenderly she clasped

      Graham’s limp fingers.

      “Graham,” she whispered. “I’m here. Don’t leave me.”

      Kyne tensed as Sianna stepped away from the bed. In the

      chamber’s small confines, her side pressed into his back. Her

      heat and the subtle scent of herbs and wild flowers that clung

      to her hair and skin distracted him from Graham and Katya.

      Try as he did, even in the midst of crisis, Kyne couldn’t banish

      his desire for this woman. Her tremor told him she was not

      unaffected by the contact.

      Since the death of his parents at DiSanti’s hand six annum

      before, Kyne had fought to contain his clawing need for

      vengeance. Aubin’s foul murder had released the beast lurking

      in Kyne’s heart. Was he so blinded he’d condemn the innocent

      along with the guilty? Was she innocent? His heart said yes.

      “Katya?” Graham’s eyes flickered open. Eyes glazed and

      unfocused, he stared up at Katya. “Don’t cry for me, Little

      Kat. This is the end all warriors pray for. Death in battle.”

      “You’re not going to die, you old fool! You can’t. Dramon

      needs you. Kyne needs you. I need you.” Her voice broke on a

      sob.

      “Like this...I’m of no use to my country, my Rul or...to a

      woman. Leave me.” With a sudden surge of strength, Graham

      pulled his hand from Katya’s grasp, closed his eyes and turned

      his head to the wall.

      She started to grab his arm, but Sianna gripped her shoulders

      and pulled her gently away. “Let him be for now.”

      Like a lost child, Katya turned into Sianna’s embrace.

      “He can’t die,” she wailed. “I love him! Don’t let him

      die.”

      “Shhh, save your strength, Katya. Graham is going to need

      it. Rest now. I’ll call you when he wakes. Betha,” Sianna called.

      The small, plump woman hurried forward, squeezing her

      way into the already crowded chamber. Warmth flooded Kyne

      as Sianna’s backside pressed more firmly against his.

      “Would you take Katya to her chamber and settle her in

      bed with a hot drink?” Sianna asked.

      “Of course. Come along now.” Betha deftly took charge

      of the subdued Katya and led her away.

      Kyne felt a pang of regret as Sianna stepped away from

      him.

      She faced him and Lisha, who still hovered in the doorway,

      and dismissed them. “Hold your meetings elsewhere and leave

      me to my work.” Her tone of command brooked no argument.

      Lisha stepped back. Hesitating, Kyne searched Sianna’s

      face for any sign of treachery. Trust no longer came easy to

      him. DiSanti’s betrayal of his family and his country had seen

      to Kyne’s education. She met his gaze without flinching, her

      eyes wide and innocent, her soft lips slightly parted. What choice

      did he have? He wanted to trust her. He had to. For the moment.

      Kyne turned and left the chamber. The door closed with a

      firm thud behind him.

      A small smile touched Lisha’s lips. “If love alone is enough,

      perhaps your Graham will live. I came to tell you farewell.

      Your healer has worked miracles with my injured men. They

      are ready to leave. Allot us our share of the goods captured,

      and we will be on our way.” She turned to leave.

      “Where will you go? Your band is too small to challenge

      DiSanti’s troops. With what we captured there is more than

      enough to feed you and your men through the winter. Stay. Our

      cause is better served if we join forces.”

      A small tremor shook Lisha’s shoulders, but he couldn’t

      see her face or eyes.

      “My men may make their own choice. But there is much

      you don’t know of me. I....”

      “Your past is of no concern. You fight DiSanti. That is

      enough. Join me. I have need of leaders and warriors. Lend

      your arm to freeing our country from an oppressive tyrant.”

      She faced him, her lips curled in a pensive smile. “Your

      plea is eloquent. I will stay. For now. I only pray you never

      regret your offer,” she added softly.

      Kyne stretched out his sword arm. After a moment’s

      hesitation, Lisha stepped forward and clasped his arm below

      the elbow, as he grasped hers.

      “Live hard. Die well, Warrior.”

      “Live well. Die hard,” she spoke the response which bonded

      them as comrades in arms.

      The touch of her strong fingers sent a jolt through Kyne.

      For a brief instant he felt her soul-deep torment as if it were his

      own.

      Or perhaps it was.

      EIGHT

      Her back to the door, Sianna took a deep breath to slow

      her racing heart. She must be calm. Graham needed her

      strength. With another breath, she pushed away from the door.

      Three steps brought her to his side.

      Blood now saturated the blanket covering him. Thick and

      salty, the smell permeated the air of the small room. He groaned

      as she lifted the blanket and began cutting away his trousers.

      “Are you awake?”

      Graham’s eyes opened and met hers. “Do not trouble

      yourself with me. I am beyond hope. Let me die with my dignity

      intact.”

      “Katya is right. You are an old fool.” She let disdain creep

      into her voice. “And a coward as well.”

      Surprise warred with anger in his eyes. He stirred against

      the bed, his fists clenching. “I am not afraid to die.”

      “Dying is easy. It takes courage to live. Instead you roll

      over and surrender at the first sign of trouble.” In a quick move

      she stripped the bloody tatters of material off his legs. A small

      cloth preserved his modesty as she cleaned the area around

      the gaping wound. Blood seeped through the ragged opening,

      the bone white against crimson. Though the amount of blood

      looked prodigious, no major vessels were cut. He would not

      bleed to death.

      A grimace crossed his features, but he made no move. “I

      will not be a burden. A legless man is half a man.”

      “You deceive only yourself. Kyne and Katya have need of

      more than your
    body. They need your heart and mind. Don’t

      abandon them. If you won’t fight for yourself, will you fight for

      them?”

      Eyes closed, he did not answer.

      She leaned close and placed her palm against his rough

      cheek. Heat scorched her hand. “Don’t shut out those who

      love you. If you allow me I can help you, but you must want to

      live. You must be strong and brave enough to face the pain. If

      you surrender to despair, you are defeated before you begin,

      and all my skill will be for naught.”

      He opened his eyes and grabbed her wrist. Pain from his

      strong grip shot up her arm. “Can you save my legs? Can you

      promise I’ll walk again? Will I be as I was?”

      Sianna opened herself to Graham’s heart and knew without

      her promise he would die in spite of her efforts. In time she

      could convince him he was a man with or without the use of his

      legs, but he didn’t have time. Every minute he fought her

      treatment lessened his chances of survival. She could save his

      life, but she couldn’t guarantee what he asked.

      She steeled herself to his desperate glare. Graham wanted

      to live, but would rather die than live as a cripple.

      “Yes, I promise.” Strong and sure, the lie slid through her

      lips.

      For a seemingly endless moment he searched her eyes.

      She fought to keep the fear and doubt that crowded her

      mind from her face. Was she strong enough? Skilled enough?

      Satisfied with what he found, Graham eased the pressure

      on her wrist. His body went lax, and his eyelids drooped again.

      “Then get on with it. I will live. But be warned, if you fail me in

      this I will personally escort you to the gates of Oblivion.”

      ***

      Sianna closed the door behind her and sagged. Graham

      slept, the bleeding finally stopped, but there was much yet to

      do. She stretched and stepped out into the great hall. Warda

      rose from where he waited outside the small chamber and

      followed.

      Across the hall, directing the disbursement of the caravan’s

      contents, Kyne towered over the crowd. Determination drove

      off exhaustion as she pushed her way through the crowd toward

      him.

      “Rul Cathor, a word with you.” Loud and a bit shrill, her

      voice cut through the babble.

      A puzzled silence fell over the people as they looked at her.

     


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