Authors: Charlotte Boyett-Compo
Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Fiction, #Adult, #General
A look of horror passed over her face. "Is that what you have planned, Milord? Is that why you have
come to take me back? To stand me before your Tribunal and accuse me of adultery?"
Conar flung out an angry hand. "That is why I wanted the matter to drop. Do you think I want the shame
of your betrayal gossiped about in every tavern and hut in my homeland? If you have no more pride than
that, woman, I do!" he snarled, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her as he would a rag doll. "I
wouldn’t let them hurt you even if you are without honor and pride!"
She tore away from his grip. "I have as much pride in myself as you do!"
His gaze went rock-hard in his set face. "It takes little pride in being a whore!"
Her right hand connected with his cheek. The stinging slap staggered him. His head snapped around and
he could feel the solid imprint of each one of her slim fingers on his flesh. Such strength for such a little
woman, he thought fleetingly. He touched his lip, already split from his encounter several days earlier with
his father’s hard hand. He looked at a tiny smudge of red on his fingertips and then slowly looked up at
her.
"I am no whore, Conar McGregor. The only man I have ever willingly slept with is you. If you think
differently, that I can not help." She lifted her chin, straightened her shoulders, and brushed by him,
leaving him standing at the window.
"Elizabeth," he called, surprised when she stopped. "I believe you. I am sorry for what I said."
She turned. "I am sorry, too, Conar." She opened the door and walked out.
He sat on the bench beneath the window and put his head in his hand. It had all been a charade, a
charade to make him angry and jealous and come for her. Oddly enough, he could understand it. But it
had been a dangerous charade that could have cost her, and Brelan, their lives.
Brelan. It would have to be Brelan.
Conar wondered just how involved Saur was in this. The conniving sot liked nothing more than to
torment him. But if what the servant girl who had accompanied Liza to her wedding had said was true,
Brelan had actively sought Liza’s hand at one point. And if that was true, then Brelan wanted Liza. Conar
smiled and the smile was like a frosty winter day.
"Well," he said in a gruff voice, "Brelan isn’t going to get her!"
"Where is he?" Brelan asked Liza as he walked into the solarium and found her sitting alone in the
twilight shadows. Her head rested along the back of a tall, white wicker chair. Her face pinched with
hurt. She took the hand he offered as he hunkered beside her.
"In with Papa, Grice and Chand. I heard them speaking as I passed the Law Library." Her fingers
jerked in his hand. "They will be giving him the papers that our Tribunal has drawn up."
Brelan searched her face in the shadows and worried that her eyes were so dull and lifeless. "What did
he say to you, Elizabeth?"
"It was what he didn’t say, Bre." She hung her head. "I think he truly wants me to go back with him, but
I fear it isn’t over with the Domination. They still have a hold over him."
A flash of remembered pain spread over Brelan’s face. He looked out at the swaying palms lit by the
fading light. "It is never over with them, Sweeting." He flinched as her head came up. "Don’t get me
wrong. You can win against them, but they will try to hang on to him."
"How much do you know about them?"
"I’ve never had dealings with them, myself; they rarely take to boys born on the wrong side of the
sheets. But I knew a boy who had his life ruined by them. He got away in the end, but it wasn’t easy. It
still isn’t easy for him."
Liza sat forward. "But he did escape their hold?"
"He was sent to Chrystallus. There is a man there who was once high up in the Domination. His name is
Occultus Noire."
"He was defrocked by the priesthood, wasn’t he?"
"The WindWarriors declared him an outcast. The Priesthood excommunicated him when they found out
he had been the Arch-Prelate of the Domination." Brelan shrugged. "He is now to good what he was then
to evil. A mighty sorcerer. Chase stayed with him for over a year until the sway of evil the Brotherhood
held over him was removed. Occultus removed the curse from him."
"Chase Montyne? The Prince Regent of Ionary? I never knew."
"Even his father didn’t know. Coni knew, of course, for he and Chase were at the Abbey at the same
time. I knew because Chase told me. The only other people who know are Hern and Roget du Mer,
Teal’s big brother."
Liza frowned. "How did Hern find out?"
Brelan looked away. "I told him and wish I hadn’t."
"And Roget?"
"Chase and Roget were very close friends back then. Years later when Roget was tried for treason, du
Mer blamed Chase for his capture by the Tribunal forces." A miserable look entered Brelan’s eyes.
"Chase was tortured by the Tribunal, Elizabeth. He gave away Roget’s hiding place. Ashamed of what he
had done, he tried to help Roget by going to Tolkan. The old bastard told him if he’d come to the Abbey
for a few weeks, he’d see that Roget was sent to one of the lesser prison farms. Chase knew from
personal experience what was going to happen. But once Chase was at the Abbey…" Brelan’s face
turned ugly. "Well, you can imagine what was done. Despite his sacrifice, Roget was sent to the
Labyrinth, the worst penal colony there is."
"Was he consecrated to them, then?" She had feared Conar had been, but there was still good left in
him. She knew, if he had been given totally to the evil of the Domination, there would have been nothing
left of the man she loved.
"He was helped to escape on the night before they were to initiate him."
"Who helped him?"
"I did."
"You?"
"That’s how Hern found out. I had to have help in getting Montyne to Chrystallus." He bit his lip.
"Unfortunately, Hern developed a strong dislike of Chase because he found out Montyne went willingly
to Tolkan’s bed. I believe he thinks Chase and Roget were lovers, although I’ve told him time and again
they weren’t."
"But how did you get into the Abbey to get him out?" she asked, stunned by his revelation.
Brelan smiled. "Don’t ask me how I got there or who sent me." His smile widened at her look of
confusion. "There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Elizabeth."
* * *
the Oceanian Judiciary Tribunal. His gaze was intent on the document in his hands and he didn’t see the
look of dislike and mistrust that passed between father and eldest son. He could sense their animosity,
could feel it with the newfound awareness in his soul, but warring emotions plagued his mind, bombarding
him from every angle in this keep. It was as though a dozen or so voices spoke to him at once. He could
hear them, distinguish one voice from another, but could not make out the actual words and thoughts
behind the whispers. So he sat with the document, immune to the rudeness of his hosts, and tried to
concentrate on the writing.
The respect and love these men had once borne him was now a thing of the past. He realized he had no
one but himself to blame for the present state of their feelings. His spine tingled as he felt their hostility,
but he managed to shift his gaze over the document still another time. Not looking for loopholes or ways
out or hidden clauses that gave these people more power than they should have, but rather it was stalling,
a ploy to gather his own disorganized thoughts into one coherent line of reasoning. He had to be sure they
understood him, trusted him, and respected him again.
Without looking up, he spoke in a soft, quiet voice. "There is nothing but truth in these charges you have
made against me. I admit this estrangement was my own doing." Glancing up, he caught Grice glaring at
him and he winced.
King Shaz nodded. "Then you admit Anya Elizabeth was not at fault. It must be made clear that this
prolonged exile you forced upon her was not due to something she had done at Boreas."
"Or any other place," Grice snapped.
"There must be no doubt she is innocent of any wrongdoing," Shaz added.
Conar glanced at the paper. "All those points are covered. If you have a quill, I will sign."
"You are positive?" the King probed.
He again scanned the words. In essence, it was a testimony to his own guilt. Guilt at having been an
insensitive and boorish brute, a reckless fool, and a man who had lost a goodly portion of his honor. He
took a quill Chand Wynth, Liza’s younger brother, signed the parchment with a flourish and handed the
document to Shaz.
"Will this satisfy your Tribunal?" Chand asked in a low voice.
"It had better!" Grice growled. "If his Tribunal thinks to charge her with infidelity…"
Conar’s head snapped toward Grice. "She hasn’t been accused of such a thing!"
A harsh laugh erupted from Grice’s tight mouth. "You accused her!"
Conar stared hard at his brother-in-law. "What I say to my wife doesn’t concern anyone but the two of
us."
"It concerns us when her life might be forfeit because of your ridiculous jealousy!"
"And who was to blame for that?" Conar shouted.
"You should never have doubted her, Conar," Chand pointed out. "No matter how it looked. You
should have confronted them in the stable and you would have known."
Conar flinched. "You’re right, but if I had, I would have done my best to kill Brelan Saur."
"If he hadn’t killed you first!" Grice replied.
"The fight you want to see between me and him will come one day, Wynth. I hope you’ll be satisfied
with the winner."
"Liza wanted no part of this scheme, Conar," Chand told him. "Neither did Brelan. He warned our
mother that it could backfire."
Conar wasn’t concerned with Chand. He knew the boy was loyal to him, for Chand had as much as told
him so earlier that evening. His main concern lay with Grice. "Will I be allowed to take my wife back
without a problem from you?"
"What problem do you anticipate?" Grice asked in a syrupy voice.
"I am told you question my intent; that you fear Liza will not be safe with me, in Serenia."
"And whose fault is that?"
Conar ground his teeth. "If I had no intention of caring for her, I wouldn’t have come for her, and I
wouldn’t be here groveling like a dog at your feet, Wynth!"
"Aye, your actions speak eloquently for your damned intent!" Grice snarled. "You cared so little for
getting here, the sun was almost set! You cared so little for her that you sent her off on a long journey
during a dangerous time in her pregnancy. She could have lost the babe for all the care you gave her!"
The eldest Oceanian prince came to his feet, his fists clenched.
"I was suffocating on that gods-be-damned ship, Wynth," Conar defended. "And there were problems
you know nothing about concerning why I didn’t come before now. Things that went on between Liza
and me at Boreas have nothing to do with why I am here now. You don’t know all there is to know
about our affairs. And I had no way of knowing she was pregnant when she left!"
"We know how you got her with child!" The King’s voice cut like steel through the air.
A look of pure agony flashed across Conar’s suddenly pale face.
"Were you just angry, Conar?" Chand asked, his voice friendly and forgiving. "Were you drunk? Maybe
she just mistook it for…for…"
"Rape!" Grice supplied. "The term is
rape
, Chandling!"
Conar glanced up. "It was an act of violence. If she says that was what it was, I will not dispute it, for
that is the way she conceived it to be." He was as aware as the others that he had admitted nothing, but
he couldn’t bring himself to admit the despicable thing he had done, not even to himself.
Grice took a long stride forward, and stood directly in front of Conar. He shoved Conar’s shoulder.
"And you think just because she is bound to you legally you can abuse her? Mistreat her in any way?" A
vein stood out in Grice’s temple and his face had suffused to a light red. "Rape is rape! It makes no
difference if the rapist is the woman’s husband!"
"Grice…" his father warned and was stunned as his son turned to him.
"My sister stood in this very room and cried in my arms, Papa! He took her by force with no regard to
her struggles or her feeling of shame or the bruises and pain he caused her. That makes it rape!"
"He said it was an act of violence," Chand reminded. "I don’t know that a husband can be charged with
raping his own wife."
Grice spun around. "You have been on this bastard’s side all along! Naturally you wouldn’t call it a
crime!"
"Would it make you feel better if I admitted I raped her, Grice?" Conar asked.
The Oceanian prince Regent shoved Conar. "Did raping her make you feel like a man?" He shoved
again, trying to provoke him, but Conar stood there, intent on Grice’s rapidly darkening face.
"If that’s what you want to believe, I can’t help it."
"I believe you’re a coward! If you think you can hurt my sister and not pay for it, you had best think
again! I won’t stand idly by while you treat her as common chattel. If it were left up to me—and you’d
better be damned thankful that it isn’t—I’d take a bullwhip to your hide!"
"
Grice
!" the King shouted.
But the eldest prince of Oceania was beyond hearing anything but the blood roaring in his temples. He