Kyle returned within a few minutes with a tunic for Tyrian. "Thank you," Tyrian told him sincerely. "I know you don't like me."
The blue-eyed swordsman blew out a hard breath. "See, that's the damnedest part. I do like you, and I don't know why the hell why. I know for a fact that you're dangerous to Ophelia, so I should really be hating you. But I can't seem to do it."
"Okay," came another male voice. "What's this about us being invaded?"
Kyle sighed and moved out of the doorway. "I said no such thing, Ewan."
As the newest arrival stepped into the doorway, Marian's eyes went wide. Liang lifted a brow. Tyrian could only blink, for once startled past his normal serenity. The young man standing behind Kyle was huge. He was six-seven, if he was an inch, and his broad shoulders filled the doorway. His face spoke of rugged lines that, while decidedly attractive, completely ruined any chance he might have had of being truly handsome in the way Kyle was.
He wore the casual clothing of a swordsman with arrogant ease, and a sword rested at his hip. His eyes were a clear shade of yellow-brown that matched his unruly brown hair, and he swept the room with a gaze that felt oddly piercing. "So," he said, and even his voice sounded more rugged than polished, "you're Tyrian Southerwind."
"Wow," Marian breathed. "Grizzly men do exist."
Kyle choked. Hard. Coughing fiercely, he turned away. His friend eyed him intently and then turned to Marian. With a smile that softened his face and a bow that would have done any nobleman proud, he said, "Ewan Grizmar at your service."
"An honor." Tyrian returned the bow. "As you guessed, I'm Tyrian. This is my cousin, Marian, and my mentor, Liang."
Ewan studied Tyrian intently and then smiled half to himself. He could see why Cassie was so taken with Tyrian. Oh, she hadn't said anything, but the way she had bolted out of the base to his defense spoke volumes. "Nice to meet all of you. Or as we say where Kyle and I are from, well met."
"Where are you from?" Liang asked curiously.
Something came and went from Ewan's eyes like a shadow of pain. Kyle touched his arm lightly, and Tyrian very nearly reached out as well. There was something about Ewan, and Kyle, that drew Tyrian to them as strongly as he was drawn to Liang and Marian. "The former Commune of Soldiers," Ewan finally said.
"Ah." Liang saw Marian and Tyrian frowning at him and explained, "The Commune of Soldiers is its own faction in much the way the Monk Clans are. A few years ago, the main village was erased by a rogue Vampire. The others have tried to pull together, but it's been hard."
"Vampire." Tyrian frowned thoughtfully. "I thought they were peaceful."
"Oh, most are," Ewan assured him. "Millennium Vampires, they're called. They have a valley hidden somewhere. They are very peaceful. But when they go rogue, they become evil. They can't go out during the daylight and they can't consume anything except the blood of the living."
"Yick!" Marian rubbed her arms to fight a chill. "I hope I never meet one."
"Yeah," he said softly. "It's not fun." He brushed off Kyle's hand and straightened his back. "Well, let's go find the boss lady. Once we meet with her, you can explore if you like." Blandly he added, "I'm sure Cassie would show you around."
Tyrian kept his eyes steady on Ewan's. "If she would like to."
They continued down the hall, and Ewan murmured to Kyle, "Gives nothing away, that one, but he's not secretive. I get the feeling he wouldn't be able to lie to a friend convincingly. Hell, I'm not sure he could lie to an enemy."
"Yeah," Kyle agreed quietly. "There's just something about him that gets to me. I think I can see, in part, why Cassie went running out to his defense." He added louder in a complaining voice as they walked into the meeting room, "You're not going to bring home every stray you find, right?"
Ophelia gave a ladylike snort as she looked up from the map she was studying with Cassie. "You're a farm boy at heart, Kyle. You wouldn't mind that much."
From the wall to the side, a rumbling male voice asked dryly, "How is it that opposites are so strongly drawn together? A farm boy and a noblewoman. Is it supposed to make sense?"
"Don't help," Kyle muttered as he sat down in a chair at the table. He jerked a thumb toward the speaker. "Tyrian, meet Dylan. Dylan, meet Tyrian Southerwind."
Tyrian studied the tall male sitting near a sewer grate. His eyes were hard emerald color and his hair looked more brown than blond. There was nothing about his appearance that looked overly attractive or trust inspiring, but Tyrian did trust him. Inexplicably, without question, and with the same strength with which he trusted the others. It was . . . curious.
"So," Ophelia said, studying Tyrian, "how old are you? What brought you to Teasarn?"
Something flickered in Tyrian's eyes. "Eighteen as of today. My older brother was murdered in this city. He made it back to the capitol by a miracle and died on the steps of the castle. He had been viciously attacked and drained of lifeforce."
"Shit," Dylan said so softly it was nearly inaudible.
"I don't suppose anyone saw anything unusual," Liang asked the room in general.
Ewan frowned. "I know I saw some of the soldiers acting odd. When did the attack occur, Tyrian?"
"This morning I assume. It's only a one-hour ride from here to Trinan. He left early, right before I met with Cassie. He returned not long after she left."
Cassie's sharp eyes noted the pallor under his skin and the buried grief in his eyes as clearly as if he had spoken about them. Pain stabbed through her heart. Her gaze lowered and she saw his knuckles had gone white from his fingers clenching the back of a chair. She moved forward without conscious thought, only sure that she had to comfort him. "Sit down," she told him, gently grasping his arm. "Before you fall down."
Tyrian sat down, and he was unaware of the lifted brows as he did so. When Cassie would have moved back, he took her hand. "No." Holding tight, he turned back to Ophelia and ignored her speculative look.
Kyle drummed the fingers of his right hand on the table lightly. "He had to have been attacked the instant he entered the city. The meeting wasn't that long, was it?" When Tyrian shook his head, Kyle leaned back in his chair. "Something smells rotten."
"That's why I came here. And . . ." Tyrian looked up at Cassie. "And I wanted to see what Cassie had been talking about." He turned back to Ophelia. "Because I am fairly sure the soldiers of the Empire know something of what happened to Ben, then I have all the more reason to distrust them. Why don't you tell me more about what is going on?"
"You'd help us?" Ewan asked idly.
"If you were in the right, and if the Empire was in the state you claim it to be, yes. I've already seen what has happened here. I lived here for sixteen years. My mother still lives here. I know it was not always like this."
"Kell?" Ophelia called.
An old man stepped forward from the shadows. On first look, he seemed quite fragile. He stood hunched over a cane, and his long white beard and snowy white hair showed starkly against his dark skin. Wrinkles lined his wrinkles and he moved so slowly that it was a wonder he didn't fall over.
"Do you need help?" Marian asked kindly as she moved to his side.
Tyrian smiled. He didn't know how he knew, but he knew it was entirely an act. "Don't bother, Marian. He's not as bad off as he proclaims."
Kell gave a surprisingly youthful laugh and promptly straightened up. His age didn't change, but the deceptive frailty went away with shocking swiftness. He gave a quick and graceful bow. "An honor to meet you, Lord Tyrian. I am Kell. I work for Lady Ophelia as an informant." He grinned cheekily at a flustered Marian. "Don't be embarrassed. I fool everyone on first meeting."
"No kidding," Kyle groused.
"Is he always grumpy?" Tyrian asked Cassie.
A smile lit her eyes. "Ophelia says he is."
Aggravated, Kyle said, "My fiancée has dragged me into the middle of a rebellion and postponed our marriage—twice! I had only just gotten to name my sword when we started this madness, and now I'm defending her life and her virtue at every turn! Of course I'm grumpy!"
"You only had to defend her virtue once," Dylan noted.
"And if you hadn't let her leave her sword behind when she met alone with that snake, it wouldn't have been at all!"
Ophelia sighed and smiled at Tyrian. "Kyle is often grumpy where the safety of his family is concerned, but he's also very outgoing and upbeat. He loves to live." Her eyes warmed when she looked at Kyle. "Perhaps it's one of the reasons I love him."
"Name your sword?" Marian asked.
Kyle nodded. "True swordsmen from the Commune of Soldiers are not considered adults until they are given the right to name their sword. Ewan gained his right five years ago but didn't bother to name his sword. I gained my right a year ago." He drew his sword and held it up so that the engraving in the blade near the hilt was visible. It read as only one name—Ophelia.
"Most people name their swords for someone they love," Ewan offered. "I've yet to meet anyone I loved enough to name my sword after."
"You seemed serious about Lena," Dylan offered.
A slow red color climbed Ewan's cheeks. He coughed. Hard. "So, Tyrian, what can we do to convince you?"
"Lena?" Tyrian asked delicately.
"She'd be Ewan's wife if he wasn't a coward," Kyle murmured with more than a touch of glee in his voice and eyes. "They had a very intense two-week relationship that made him go running for the hills. Last I heard, she's prepared to hit him over the head with a frying pan if he ever goes near her again."
"So," Ewan said again, this time with a touch of desperation, "what can we do to convince you, Tyrian?"
Kell offered a small spherical shaped glass globe to Tyrian. "This is a Seeing Relic," he said calmly. "I have been using it in various cities to record any events that might be of . . . value to us. You can trust what you see. I am a skilled informant. Hell, I've been a skilled informant since before your father was born."
"Are you wearing a relic?" Ophelia asked.
"No."
Startled looks instantly went to Tyrian from everyone present. "Really?" Kyle frowned. "But you have such a powerful magical capacity. I can sense it so clearly that I thought you had a strong relic."
Tyrian shook his head. "I've never found one that I was comfortable with, but I know that I'm quite strong." He picked up the Seeing Relic. "I should be able to use this without any conflicts."
The evidence of his strong sorcerer potential was clear when the Seeing Relic activated without him fusing it. It hovered over his palm obediently and began projecting images into the air over the table so that everyone could see.
It was disturbing, to say the least. A dozen cities scattered across the vast expanse of the Empire were shown to be in the same condition as Teasarn. Broken buildings, dirty streets, people living in alleys. Soldiers swarmed the crowds. The façade of regular life was simply that.
"So people in other cities are beggared, while people in Trinan live perfectly happy, unassuming lives." Marian's entire body quivered with barely leashed anger. "To think that we were all so happy and carefree while people suffered . . . !"
Liang let out a hard breath. "The evidence is damning indeed. And as much as I want to believe that there must be a reason for this, I can't convince myself that it is a good one." He looked at Tyrian, who was very quiet as he watched the relic. "It's your decision, Lord Tyrian," he said quietly. "You know that I follow you anywhere."
Tyrian put the relic down and the images stopped. With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. In that moment, he looked every inch the adult he had been forced into becoming far too fast. "I can't think at all right now. My head is so scattered."
It took every ounce of Cassie's willpower not to lean down and hold him. She bit her lip instead. Why couldn't anyone else seem to see how tired he was?
Ophelia saw Cassie's agitation as clearly as she saw the swirling darkness inside Tyrian's heart. Softly, she said, "Cassie? Take him to a room where he can rest. Introduce him to R.K. too, so he knows who to go to for anything regarding his quarters."
"No problem." Cassie lifted her hand as Tyrian got to his feet. Her eyes missed nothing of the way he carefully concealed his exhaustion and pain. Damn it, did he feel as if he had to hide everything? He didn't need to take everything on himself. "Follow me."
Liang started to get to his feet as they left the room. To his surprise, Ewan firmly put a hand on his shoulder. "He's upset!" Liang protested. "Surely you noticed! He needs someone to talk to or he'll keep it all inside! I've always been his confidant!"
Ewan shook his head with a smile. "Cassie can handle it. In fact, I think she should handle it. You saw them together, Liang. If they aren't in love before the week is out, I'll eat my hat."
"Week?" Ophelia smiled. "Ewan, they're already in love. They just don't know it."
All eyes went to the door. "Could be," Liang murmured. "Could very well be."
Tyrian looked around curiously as he and Cassie walked down the hall together. The underground base resembled an underground city built from a series of convoluted catacombs. He had never even known the catacombs existed. If he had, he would have definitely explored them. He loved to wander and see new places. "You guys have really gotten yourselves set up well down here. It must have taken a while to build."
Cassie glanced up at his face. He sounded normal enough, but the darkness was in his eyes again. Instead of answering the unspoken question, she asked, "Is the only thing keeping you on your feet that iron will I can sense?"
"Sometimes, yes," he admitted. He let out a hard breath. "I couldn't even begin to describe how much it hurts that Ben is dead. But I just . . . I just can't seem to cry or grieve. If I tried, then I might never recover. It doesn't make sense, but it's how I feel."
She hesitated and then went with her instincts. She reached out her hand and gently took his. His fingers automatically laced with hers, and the sense of belonging was so strong that both felt it as a literal spark between their flesh.
"How long are you to stay with the rebellion?" he asked.
She gave a little sigh. "It's . . . sketchy. I was assigned this task for as long as it takes to achieve freedom. If we are on the cusp of losing, I'm supposed to retreat back to the Clans to regroup."
"Nice of them to be so specific," he said dryly.
A little smile touched her lips. "Isn't it, though? But I suppose I'm not mad about it. Not as mad as I was. Things have . . . changed."
He glanced down at their fingers. "You're telling me."
She swung around a corner and let go of his hand. "R.K," she called as she approached a long counter where a young man stood, "Lord Tyrian needs a room." She turned to smile at Tyrian. "Lord Tyrian, this is R.K. He's our innkeeper. He keeps track of supplies and maintenance and the like. He also does a fair chunk of the cleaning."
R.K. gave a long-suffering sigh. "I need to find someone to help me. I'm wearing so many hats that I looked in a mirror and thought I was a coat rack." He offered a hand to Tyrian. "It's an honor to meet you, Lord Tyrian."
Tyrian shook his hand with a smile. "Likewise. You seem young for an innkeeper."
"I'm probably only a few years older than you," R.K. admitted. "But my parents were innkeepers, so it runs in the family." At the question in Tyrian's eyes, the innkeeper said softly, "They were murdered by Empire soldiers when they refused to give free room and board to the unit who had massacred the homeless shelter."
"I'm sorry," Tyrian said quietly. He held R.K.'s hand tighter. "I promise, no matter what I decide to do, I'm going to try to change things. Something's wrong. I know it is. So, I promise I'll try to make it better."
R.K. looked at him, a little surprised. "It's odd. Somehow, I believe you. I know you'll do it. You're very . . . inspirational, I guess." He nodded a little to himself as he handed over a key. "If you need someone to talk to, just let me know."
"I will, thank you." Tyrian looked at the key and saw that the number matched the number over one of the doors. He looked around for Cassie, but she seemed to have faded into the scenery. A little sigh caught in his chest. Her monk skills were going to be the bane of his existence. He was sure of it.
He managed to hold onto his composure until he got inside his room and had shut the door. He turned a lamp on low and looked around the small room. It was sparse, but comfortable. The bed looked soft and welcoming and a table had been heaped with books. He would have never guessed he was in a catacomb, under a city being brutalized by the Empire that had helped raise him. Ben would have loved the irony.
Pain stabbed through his heart. He slowly sank down until he sat on the floor. Shoulders shaking, he buried his face in his hands. He couldn't cry. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream and rage, but he couldn't. All he could do was endure the waves of agony washing over his heart and soul.
Soft hands settled on his shoulders, and he looked up sharply to discover Cassie kneeling next to him. "How'd you . . . ?"
"I used the shadows to slip inside. It's a basic skill." She tenderly cupped his face with one hand. "You loved him."
His eyes closed. "He was my brother. Adopted, but after the first year, we both forgot. He was five years older than me. Liang and I found him after he'd escaped a brutal home. I was eight. We brought Ben home and my father and mother decided to adopt him. He was my best friend."
Her heart breaking for him, she leaned in and gently pressed her lips to his forehead. She couldn't bear to see him suffering. "I'm so sorry, Lord Tyrian."
His lips curved a little. "If you don't drop my title, I'll be forced to do something drastic." He opened his eyes and looked at her. She was soft and vibrant in the lamplight, burning with some sort of inner light that he felt rather helplessly lured toward. She was shorter than he was, even kneeling beside him. She should have seemed too small to protect him. But he felt . . . safe. If she was there, he would never be hurt. "Cassie."
Her eyes closed as his hand lifted to frame her face. "I'm supposed to be comforting you," she whispered. "I can't stop myself, Tyrian. I can't. I want to protect you so badly. I feel . . . I feel as if I was born for that sole purpose. When I saw you under attack . . . I went a little nuts."
"You looked amazing." He leaned in and lightly brushed his lips over hers. "I knew it was you. And I knew you'd save me. Even now, I feel safe near you. I should be thinking that you need me to protect you, but I don't." His lips teased hers again. "Tell me you're legal."
"I'm nineteen." The words were breathless and her hands dropped to his shoulders. She didn't know whether she wanted to push him away or pull him close. Her entire body throbbed with heat. Just the little brushes of his lips were driving her slowly mad. "I'm older than you are."
His lips curved almost wickedly, and she realized in shock that his intense seriousness hid a wildness and reckless danger as deep as the sea. He slowly pulled her closer, and his hands burned her where they curved around her neck and hip. "I like older women," he said softly, his voice huskier and deeper than she had heard it before.
"This is the biggest mistake I've ever made," she whispered in return. "Why can't I push you away?"
"Because I'm not the only one feeling it." His eyes met hers and he found himself falling into the blue flecks that glimmered like gems in the lamplight. "Where the hell have you been all this time?" he asked, and there was an aching loneliness in his voice.
It touched a chord inside her. She had never even realized that it had been his voice and his eyes she had been subconsciously seeking. On a desperate sound, she pulled him closer and kissed him wildly.
He tugged her onto his lap and deepened the kiss, his tongue hungrily thrusting past her parted lips. A low sound rumbled in his chest as her taste shot through him. He knew her taste. He knew the supple curves pressed so maddeningly against his body. His entire body was burning, his arousal throbbing painfully. He broke free of the kiss and buried his lips against her throat. Her scarf was in the way, and he impatiently removed it so he could taste her skin. "At the risk of being obvious, I want you like hell on fire."
She gulped in cool air but it did nothing for her control. Quivering with need, she dug her fingers into his tunic. "Yes," she managed to say, "that's definitely obvious. And I want you too. Oh this is madness!" She felt his lips moving across her throat and went deathly still as her heart skipped a beat. "Stop."
His head lifted sharply as he heard the fear in her voice. His eyes met hers and he lifted a hand to tenderly examine her throat. His eyes couldn't see anything in the shadows between their bodies but his fingers could. They found the thin scar almost instantly. Something volatile filled his eyes. "Tell me it was an accident." Her gaze dropped. On a rough breath, he caught her close and pressed her face to his shoulder. "I can't handle hearing about it now. But I want to know later."
"There won't be a later," she protested, although weakly.
He remained silent for several moments and then, with a smile, he let her go. "Alright," he said calmly.
Warily, she eyed him. "Alright?"
"I'm letting you have all the room you need to run. When you get tired of fighting the threads tying us together, I'll be waiting." He stole a quick but hungry kiss. "And I won't gloat or hold it against you. I'm willing to wait. I'm a very patient man."
And she was in deep trouble. She took a shaky breath and got off his lap. "One day at a time," she said firmly. "We only met this morning. There's . . . something between us. Neither of us know what it is. So we need to take it one day at a time. Before we even think of being lovers . . ."
He smiled. "Cas, we're already lovers. We just haven't consummated the relationship. We both know it."
Shaken, she looked down. "How is this even possible?"
"I don't know," he said simply. "But we'll figure it out. Until then, I'll stop pushing you. I won't promise not to kiss you, though. I'm not that strong-willed." A little dryly, he added, "My 'iron will' gives me the ability to withstand any event and keep strong in the face of deep emotional grief and trauma. It doesn't, however, seem to do anything to keep me sane about you."
"I better go." Before she climbed onto his lap and begged him to kiss her again.
"Might be a good idea." He caught her hand and brought it to his lips softly. "When's dinner?"
"In," her breath broke as his tongue teased the skin between her fingers, "in an hour or two."
"I'll be there."
She tugged her hand free and suddenly disappeared. Though the door couldn't open the way he was leaning against it, he knew she had left the room. He could feel her presence disappear, and it left him cold and lonely again. He closed his eyes on a sigh. Of all the rotten timing.
There came a light knock on the door. "Lord Tyrian?" Ophelia called. "I thought you might be feeling up to a walk with me."
He got to his feet and opened the door. Oddly, he did feel better. Cassie's unquestioning comfort and support had restored his balance. Nothing hurt other than his desire for her. "I might be amiable," he said by way of agreement.
Ophelia gave him a once over and hid a smile. "We have showers installed if you want to, uhm, freshen up before bed." Her voice was carefully neutral but laughter lurked inside. "The water's almost always cold, though."
He sighed. "Thanks." He fell into step beside her as she began to head down a hall. Much to his surprise, he felt very comfortable with her as if he had known her his entire life. "Where are you from, if you don't mind my asking?"
"I do not mind." She linked her hands behind her back. "I was born in Caschin. I lived there with my parents and my older brother until I was fourteen. My brother is about ten years older than I am. He's an amazing strategist and trains other students. When I was fourteen, our parents died from a plague. Matthias and I ended up traveling."
"Is that how you met Kyle?" he asked.
"Indeed! I'm eighteen, for your information," she offered, "and he's nineteen. Ewan is twenty-one. Anyway, when I was sixteen, we came across the new Commune of the Soldiers. Kyle was there. He . . ." she considered her words, "was a rebel at heart. A handsome prince who desperately needed a princess to rescue. I needed a prince."
"So you fell in love at first sight."
"Uhm, no. We fell in love after I beat him at swordplay and he demanded a rematch every day for a week until I lost my temper and threw him in a river." She smiled when he laughed at her. He needed some laughs. He was far too serious. "We've been together since. When I decided to form this rebellion a year ago, it was hard convincing him. He wanted to wait until I was legal and he could court me. I told him there was no time, so he asked my brother instead for permission, and Matt agreed. Being engaged meant Kyle was my legal guardian for the next few months until I was eighteen."
"And your brother went along with it because he knew how bad things were." He lowered his gaze. "I wish I'd known how bad things were. I still don't even know if I want to help the Rebellion or if I want to go back to the Empire and work on them from there."
"I won't force your decision," she said gently. "I firmly believe it is a decision that you must make on your own. But there is something I have to tell you." She took a little breath. "I always knew that when I met the young man with an indomitable spirit in his eyes that I would soon die. You are that young man. So I will die soon. Very likely, I will be dying for what I believe in, so I don't regret it."
He said nothing for long moments, then, "Does Kyle know?"
"No."
"Ewan or Cassie?"
"No."
"Because they would try to stop it."
"Indeed." She studied him. "You seem amazingly calm for a man who just heard someone tell him that he was the harbinger of her death."
"I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop," he countered wryly. "For you to be so calm tells me you expect something good to happen."
"Something good will happen," she assured him. "I can see it, Tyrian. Freedom for everyone. If I have to die to ensure the world will someday be at peace, then I don't mind it so much."
"And Kyle?"
"I'm not his soul mate." She smiled as she said it. "When I realized it, I was deathly jealous of whoever this mysterious girl that was meant for him was. But then I realized that . . . I don't have a soul mate. Not yet. Something inside me is incomplete right now. So . . . I'm okay. But I need you to promise me something. After I'm gone, let Kyle grieve. When you see the first sign of him pulling back up and on the cusp of being ready to let me go, tell him what I've just told you. It might be years, but will you help him?"
"Without hesitation."
"Good." She leaned up to gently kiss his cheek. There were no regrets in her heart and a curious calm existed inside her soul. Everything was happening just as it was supposed to happen. "Now then, about Cassie."
He sighed. "Neither of us understands a thing about what is happening between us. That being said, however, I'm giving her room to try to come to grips with it. I, of course, will be making absolutely no demands on her."
"Oh of course not," she agreed drolly, tongue in cheek. "You are, after all, a paragon of many virtues including patience and willpower."
His dark green eyes danced as they met hers. "How nice of you to notice."
With a laugh, she swung an arm around his waist. "Let's get dinner. You can help me keep Ewan and Kyle from getting into a food fight with Kell."
©Stacy J. Garrett. Do not reprint or redistribute without permission.
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