Hers to Claim (15 page)

She did nothing but smile and speak a few words of encouragement to each man or woman
, but they seemed to brighten at her attention, at her easy and assured manner. He envied them. Nia had been awkward and diffident with him since A’rken’s cottage. He could hardly blame her. Even he recognized he’d been difficult to approach. Even so, he’d yearned for an unsought touch or word from her to breach his formidable silence. Though he would never have asked, her attentions would have lifted the bleakness of his heart.

For the last
two days, Hel’s insides had felt as frozen as the stark landscape they crossed. The rapidity of the worsening conditions shocked him. Each empty farmhouse petrified in frost and each leafless, barren forest encased in ice hardened the winter expanding inside him until he felt as brittle and easily shattered as the frozen land they walked. He would have welcomed a threat from any source—anything to draw his malaise outward. He needed to bury his heartache and worry in something tangible to fight. As it was, the stimulus that demolished his frozen interior came in the nightmare form of
Rolly—
or some corruption of the loyal man’s flesh.

Worse, the abominations had imperiled Nia
, and he’d been helpless to defend her. The rat-bastard DeKieran had rescued both of them. All the helpless impotence he’d felt at the loss of his family flooded back. He had choked on white-hot anger, unwilling to take it out on the innocent townsmen who’d welcomed his return. It took fortitude not to turn a blind eye at his steward’s approach but he denied himself the escape. Instead, he’d listened attentively to Bernard’s calamitous recitals.

The one pleasure he had taken for himself was selecting garment
s from his mother’s and sister-in-law’s closet to showcase Nia’s slender elegance—and even there DeKieran had stolen the moment.
I should have been the one complimenting her appearance. I had planned my words, imagined her shy, pleased smile.

He quite thoroughly hated the man
. He built images in his mind of Ram plunging down a mountain crevasse, or off the bridge, or...
shit.
He sighed. He didn’t hate Ramsey. He liked the rogue.
Even if he did steal my horse.
He saw an earlier version of himself in Ramsey—a self before the life of a majestic city and its people rested on his shoulders. Hel allowed his head to relax against the wall and closed his eyes as fatigue dragged at him.

“
Hel? Prince DeHelios?”

Hel’s eyes opened slowly. “Hmmm?”
Nia stood before him.

“
I have finished speaking with all the patients. I’ve been able to evaluate all of the sick and have a good idea what is needed. I’ll begin to treat them in the morning.”

He
examined the lovely woman standing before him—the one radiant light in his dark life, the one balm to his burdened soul. She spread warmth around her like a sun, and Hel felt calmed and strengthened in her presence. “DeKieran is right,” he murmured. “You
are
beautiful, and I want nothing more than to spend the next few hours sunk in your heat. I want it more than my next breath.” Her eyes flew wide. He straightened and gently tucked her arm under his. “But, I promised to meet with Bernard. So, instead, I’ll show you back to your rooms. For tonight, you will sleep alone.”

Adonia dropped her head and refused to look at him as they walked
the hallway toward her chambers. When they reached her door, he stopped, tipped her chin upward and pressed a gentle kiss to her soft, plush lips. “I’ll take your silence as a sign of disappointment.”

As he turned away,
Hel smiled at the look of confusion she wore. No matter how bleak the immediate future, his Nia lightened his heart.
I’ll find some way to ensure she stays.

~~~

Hel, Ramsey and Bernard met around the heavy, wooden, dining table scarred from centuries of family dinners with active children. With a fingertip, Hel traced his initials carved in the surface—the result of a dare that left both him and his older brother unable to sit for a week. His father had strong opinions about defacing heirloom furniture. Hel missed the senior DeHelios and wondered, not for the first time, what counsel his father might have given him.

“Thank you for staying, DeKieran.”
Hel had asked Ram to stay. Ramsey would be intimately involved in the decisions made in the next few minutes. Hel had included Steffania, but she’d demurred.

“
I’m feeling strangely fatigued. I’ll live with whatever this rogue decides.” She’d retired after kissing her husband good night.

“We were at the poi
nt of despair until you arrived.” Bernard regarded Hel and Ramsey from an upholstered chair that swallowed his aged bent form.

Ram
sprawled in a large armchair pushed back from the table, one booted foot resting on his knee. “You say you have no more energized crystals to hold those graveyard horrors at bay?”

“
None. Only Prince DeHelios can revitalize them. He’d left us enough to last during his absence, but he’d not anticipated the new threat. We have been doing without heat and light in order to protect the city from the undead that slither from their graves when night falls.” Bernard grimaced. “We used the last of the diaman crystal to heat the water and warm the family quarters for you. Unfortunately, an equally dire situation has arisen on our western border.”

“
With Lord DeKieran’s help, I believe we can deal with both the undead and the western border simultaneously.” Hel looked toward Ram. For a moment, he wondered if he could put Ramsey and his wife in such peril—but he had little choice.
The bottom line is they can do it, and I can’t be two places at once.
“Will you and Steffania reset the western border?”

“What is involved?”

“Replacing the caches of exhausted crystal. You will need to work the perimeter outward where the blight has encroached. Take some energized crystals with you to push back the contagion then work the lesser rite I gave you to restore energy to the spent caches.”

“
How will I know the border?”

“The dividing line between the cultivated fields and the forest is clearly defined. You should also see the collection of
exhausted crystals. There are four to each cache. Each cache forms a small pyramid. These fields are the only arable land adjacent to Nyth Uchel that will grow the wheat and potatoes that keep us from starvation.”

Ramsey
’s wolf-like eyes returned his direct gaze. “I understand your need.”

“I must warn you
. You can never relax your guard on the western border. The source of the corruption comes from there. As you know, wraiths swarm unchecked. Mutant creatures prowl the edges of the forest, their forms ever changing. You never know what will come at you out of the thick woods. And then there is the blight. The contagion will infect you with the fading sickness if your exposure to corrupted soil is prolonged.”

Ramsey listened
without visible emotion. “The danger to Steffania concerns me. I’d just as soon pass on this.”

Disappointment crushed
Hel. He’d counted on Ramsey’s help, but he couldn’t blame the man. The decision was bitter, but he’d have to consider abandoning the western fields. “Yes…I understand.”

Ramsey sighed deeply
, and, with a slow shake of his head, swore with descriptive, colorful vulgarity. “Steffania would alter my manhood if she ever discovered I’d withheld aid to Nyth Uchel because of her.” A somber Ram drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair and slouched further into its cushions. Tense moments passed before Ramsey straightened and once again met Hel’s eyes. “You and this gods-be-damned city. We will go.”

“Thank you.”
The words didn’t begin to express his feelings. Hel hoped Ram understood the depth of his gratitude. “Bernard will provide you with the stones to take with you.”

Hel caught his steward’
s eyes, and Bernard nodded.

“I estimate a dozen or
so should be adequate to start,” said Bernard. “But the ones I have are lifeless. You will need to empower them.”

With a return to his customary self,
Ramsey chuckled. “I will begin the onerous task tomorrow morning. Leave the crystals outside our door along with a do-not-disturb sign and food and drink for the day.” He rose and stretched. “I wish all my obligations were met this pleasantly. Until tomorrow evening.” Ram’s steps paused at the door and with a grin, he tossed, “Or the day after,” over his shoulder.

Hel snorted in reply. He knew Ram’s roguish behavior hid a
brave heart just as dedicated to the salvation of Nyth Uchel as his. In many ways, he and Ramsey were brothers in blood. Nyth Uchel would always welcome Ramsey DeKieran—assuming the city still stood after this current crisis. When the door had closed behind DeKieran, he turned to his steward. “I don’t understand why the border continues to fail. I set it just prior to leaving for Sylvan Mintoth.”

Bernard shook his head. “
I have no answers. I agree it is unusual and worrisome. I do wonder what Lord DeKieran will find.”

Hel
rested his head on the back of his chair and gazed at the ceiling. “I went to see A’rken. I didn’t know who else to turn to. I’m not sure I trust A’rken’s ravings, but he was right about the Haarb.”

Bernard’s
bushy gray eyebrows rose. “Oh? What guidance did the mystic offer?”

“No guidance. He spoke a warning
and a riddle.
The darkness that we fight at Nyth Uchel is only symptomatic of a greater evil that attacks our Mother. Verdantia
summons all Her sons and daughters to battle, and somehow our healer is at the center of it all.”

Bernard groaned. “
Could he be any
more
cryptic?”

Hel frowned.
“Does this make any sense to you? ‘Stones…stones…written on the stones of the tower. Look to the wisdom of your forefathers.’ A’rken muttered those words from a trance.” Hel waited while Bernard mulled over what he’d said.

“Aside from the obvious—something is written in the stone of Torre Bianca—no. It makes no sense
and I don’t know of anything written on her.” Bernard shook his head. “I’m sorry, my lord, I’m of no help either.”

“I suppose
I can look forward to crawling on my knees over every inch of that tower.” Hel sighed. “According to A’rken, we must act when Belarus mates with Cirrus, so we have some time.” He sat lost in thought, plotting a systematic method to search Torre Bianca.

Hel dropped his forearms to his knees and hung his head, suddenly drained. He echoed his steward’s palpable frustration. Life and death dilemmas demanded he find solutions but the answers spawned more questions. He longed for surcease
from the crushing burden—but there was no one else to assume the responsibility. As ever, Nyth Uchel, Torre Bianca—Verdantia herself, it seemed—would live or die based on
his
decisions.
So be it.
He sat upright and squared his shoulders.
I am DeHelios. Our Mother has shaped me for this purpose. I will not fail Her.

His steward’
s voice brought him back to the present.

“She is Isolde DeCorvus returned to us.
”

Hel straightened. “Adonia? Yes.
I think so, too, though I didn’t see the resemblance at first.” The carefully chosen garments had done everything he had hoped and one thing he hadn’t expected. The borrowed gown revealed the beauty Nia hid under her ragged, masculine attire. However, in her finery, Nia might have stepped out of the portrait of Isolde DeCorvus that hung in the family gallery. He shook his head. “I don’t know how I missed it. A’rken says she is the key to something.” Hel rubbed his tired eyes and slumped back in his chair. “Until four days ago, Adonia was ignorant of her heritage. She is special, Bernard. Our healer is another mystery—one I intend to solve as quickly as possible.”

“
Can she help you with the lesser rites? Can she take Tessa’s place as your partner?”

A smile
of satisfaction spread across Hel’s face. Finally, something pleasant to anticipate. “Oh, yes. I believe she can be infinitely more than a replacement for Tessa. Our healer’s training as Nyth Uchel’s
magistra
begins tomorrow.”