Phantom of the Wind (5 page)

“Pirates are a lusty brood,” Queen Chastain commented. “A woman could do worse than having a handsome corsair courting her.”

“Shush!” Davan said. “He’s coming over here!”

Kendall turned to see Rory Quinn walking his beast toward the pavilion. His black armor glistened in the sun and the helm, which he carried resting on his thigh, sported a rakish black plume.

“Ladies,” he greeted them as he walked his steed close to the rail of the pavilion, bowing his head gracefully.

“Who is your first opponent, Lord Rory?” Queen Chastain inquired. Kendall watched as he pivoted his head toward the lists, the field where the tourney was being held. “I believe it is Prince Nelbert,” he replied.

“An easy conquest for you, Milord,” Princess Davan said with a grin.

“Let us hope so, Your Grace,” Quinn replied. His eyes shifted to Kendall. “How are you this fine day, Healer Bryne?”

“I am well, Milord,” Kendall said, and felt the sensuous touch of his eyes gliding over her.

“Would you grant me a favor to take with me into battle?” he asked. His voice was a husky deepness that brought heat pooling in the lower realms of Kendall’s body.

“Your scarf!” Empress Anastasia, the Burgon’s wife, said. “Give him your scarf, Kenni.”

Kendall’s face stained with a crimson blush but she reached up to untie the scarf at her neck. She extended the pale green silk to Quinn and he took it in his mailed hand, bringing it to his lips where he placed a soft kiss on the fabric.

“I cannot help but win now,” he said, dipped his head to the ladies then wheeled his horse around and galloped back.

“My, my, my,” Princess Davan said, fanning herself. “That man is something else!”

“The kind of man a woman wouldn’t mind plundering her wealth, eh?” Queen Chastain inquired.

Kendall’s face burned as the ladies around her laughed openly. She could not take her eyes from the handsome knight who had tied her scarf to the end of his lance.

The rest of the day flew by in a blur of sights and sounds and spectacular displays of athletic prowess upon the field of honor. Quinn had won each of his engagements and had been presented with many of the most precious of prizes being given to the combatants—síorí crystals used to fuel long-range cruisers.

“Lord Rory did himself proud,” King Ruan commented. “He has asked for the honor of your company after the final prizes have been awarded, Kendall.” He exchanged a sultry look with his lady-wife. “A stroll through the park I believe is his intent if you are of a mind to comply.”

The women around her turned eager faces to Kendall and she had to duck her head to keep the blazing stain from setting the ladies to giggling again. “I would be honored to accompany him, Your Grace,” she managed to reply.

Though everyone there thought Kendall a modern woman—one who knew the intricacies of male and female relationships—Kendall was still a virgin at the ripe, old age of twenty-nine, and though she knew the medical ins and outs of such pairings, she had yet to experience even a wayward touch by an escort.

Later, walking hand in hand with a knight freshly showered and shaved, her heart was thundering in her breast and it was hard to draw a decent breath. They were walking along a bubbling stream in a secluded section of the Haverhill Woods. It was a cloudy day with a hint of rain looming. The forest was a vast green, the light overhead muted by the leafy arms of the trees under which they passed. Water gurgled over rocks dotting the stream. There were other soothing sounds in the woods—the rustle of lacy ferns growing along the banks of the stream, the whisper of the wind passing from tree leaf to tree leaf and the occasional call of a bird flitting high among the branches. As the sun overhead played hide and seek from the dark clouds running after it, a few shafts of light filtered through the tall stand of pines to shower dust motes.

“This is such a beautiful place,” she said shyly, her hand wrapped protectively, possessively, in his larger calloused one.

Quinn brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. He seemed so at ease, so content just to be with her. “It pales in comparison to you, Milady,” he told her.

As with many dreams, the image flowed from looking into his penetratingly beautiful blue eyes to lying naked beneath him in a field of ferns, the lush greenery surrounding them hiding their doings from passersby.

“I am still a maiden, Milord,” she said shyly.

“Then I will be as gentle with you as though you were a priceless crystal vase,” he whispered as he planted fleeting kisses on her eyelids and nose. “Your vessel I will cherish.”

He had been as careful and as loving as a maiden could want while still taking her beyond herself into a realm she could never have imagined. His hands were sure. His body was strong and heavy, pressing her down to the earth with an authority and possessiveness that made her head reel. His staff was thick and long and filled with a power that brought her only a nick of pain then such glorious pleasure she had nearly swooned from the joy of it. And afterwards he had been a courtly, caring lover who enfolded her into his arms and spoke sweetly to her of tomorrows to come.

“
Tá mé caillte gan tú
,” he whispered against the side of her face.

“What does that mean?” she asked.

He hooked a finger beneath her chin and lifted her face, their eyes locked upon one another. “I am lost without you.”

She stared at him. “Please do not speak of love when I am but a moment’s passing fancy for you, Milord.” She tried to get up, but his leg was over her thigh.

“I never say anything I do not mean from the very soul of me,
Lhiannan
,” he stated. “I have waited a lifetime for you.”

She searched his eyes and saw the truth in his words. His arms were around her, his naked body pressed intimately to hers, the stain of her maidenhead still clinging to him.

“Stay with me always,” he asked.

The bargain they made that day would last until he sent her away, breaking her heart and shattering the illusion that they were meant to be together for all time.

Chapter Two

1655 CMT

“Doc?”

Kendall flinched as she was lightly shaken, coming awake with a start. She sat up—disoriented for a moment—then ran a hand over her face to wipe away the dream images that had been so real, so painful. “What is it?” she asked, her voice rough from sleep.

“He’s waking up,” Parks informed her.

Being jolted back to the there and then brought an ache to Kendall’s heart. She sighed deeply and stood up. “Where is the TAOS treatment now?”

“On his pelvic fracture.”

Kendall let out a tired breath. “Where’s Andrews?”

“He went to get something to eat,” Parks replied. “Would you like something, Ma’am?”

“A hot cup of Chrystallusian tea might work wonders on my scrambled brain,” she answered. “And perhaps a roll or two?”

Parks nodded and hurried off to the galley to fetch her order.

Kendall walked over to the TAOS unit and stared down at the naked man lying there. There was movement beneath his eyelids and that surprised her. He was obviously in REM sleep and should not have been. She looked over his vitals, adjusted the concentration of energy pulses being directed at his fractured pelvis then glanced back down at him to find his blue eyes open and looking at her with what could only be described as intense longing before he shut down his emotions—something he was a master at doing.

“You’re on the
Sláinte
in a TAOS unit,” she told him, moving back from the TAOS. At his frown, she explained the unit was based on Amhantarean technology. “The same principal as their Net only the TAOS reconstructs instead of deconstructing like their defense shield.”

His gaze followed her. “Why can’t I move?”

“You’re secured to the diagnostic sled. Your injuries are being treated. One slight miscalculation of the energy pulses could do more harm than good,” she said with a matter-of-fact tone.

“You always did want me naked and bound before you, didn’t you,
Lhiannan
?” he asked quietly.

“Not me, Phantom,” she denied. “Must have been some other woman you used and discarded.”

She saw him slowly close his eyes and knew she’d scored a direct hit on his conscience.

“You cut your hair,” he said.

“It got in the way.”

“I liked your hair long.”

“That’s partly why I cut it,” she said and saw him flinch. “By the way, I’m curious. Were you dreaming?”

He opened his eyes and looked up at the glass dome of the TAOS. “Aye,” he said tiredly. “We were back at the waterfall on Ceol Mountain.” He cut his attention to her. “Do you remember it?”

“Barely,” she lied.

He sighed again loudly, no doubt to let her know he knew she was lying. “How long have I been here,
Lhiannan
?”

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped. “Not ever again. I am nothing to you.” She ground her teeth as he released another long exhalation of breath.

“How long have I been here?” he repeated.

“Five hours so far,” she told him. “You’ve another four to five left to go depending on how long it will take the TAOS to piece back together your kneecaps and ligaments.”

“Where’s the Amazeen?”

“On the
Borstal
where she’d best keep her brazen self,” Kendall reported. “Where the hell were you when she came after you?”

His answer came with what sounded like a mental shrug. “I have no idea where I was. Somewhere on Cengus is all I know. I don’t even remember how I got there.”

“
Laa er-meshtey as laa er ushtey,”
she threw at him
.
Parks walked in at that moment and she turned to him. “A drunken night makes a cloudy morning.”

“I wasn’t drinking and when the hell did you learn Cengusian High Speech, wench?” he demanded, his chest heaving against the restraint. He was glaring at Parks.

“Don’t look at me, Milord,” Parks said, holding up his hands. “I’m Serenian.” He glanced at the screen. “Starting on his knees now, Doc.”

“I’d love to start on his knees,” Kendall hissed. “With a ball-peen hammer.”

“Why don’t you just let the ‘bot stomp on them again?” Quinn asked. “And why bother putting me back together when you know damned well the Coalition is going to take me apart again?”

“Martyrdom doesn’t become you, Phantom,” Kendall said, feeling his words to the bottom of her breaking heart. She was doing her best to insult him, to pretend she didn’t care about him, while inside she was screaming and sobbing so savagely it was all she could do to keep standing.

“
Myr shegin dy ve, bee eh,”
he said in a bored voice.

“Aye, what will be, will be,” she agreed, and wanted to yell at him when he closed his eyes, shutting her out as he had done so long ago. Digging her fingernails into her palms, she whipped around and stormed out of the sick bay.

“Doc?” Parks called after her. “You forgot your tea and rolls!”

“What son of a whoring bitch has been teaching her Cengusian?” Quinn asked the med tech.

“Andrews is Cengusian, Milord,” Parks said, “but so is Captain Breen.”

“Liam Breen,” Quinn said, and the name was a curse on his lips. “I can’t believe he was once my friend.” His eyes narrowed. “I should have guessed. How long has she been seeing him?”

Parks’ eyebrows shot up into the dark blond hair covering his forehead. “I didn’t know she was.”

The man the megaverse knew as the Phantom wanted to struggle to break free of the secure bonds holding him to the diagnostic sled but he couldn’t move, not even an inch. He was lashed securely to the sled—even his fingers were in secure restraints at each knuckle and flexiform bands ran around his neck, chest, upper arms, wrists, waist, thighs and ankles. “Get these damned things off me so I can sit up,” he ordered.

“I’m sorry, Milord, but I can’t do that even if I wanted to, and I sure as heck don’t want to because the doc would have my head on a pike. The TAOS is locked until the end of the treatment,” Parks told him.

Snarling with anger, Quinn subsided with a hiss of irritated breath. He was in ungodly pain and being held so rigidly down was adding to the misery but he didn’t want those around him to know how badly he hurt. Sweat was dotting his face and chest and ran down the crease of his legs.

“Are you thirsty, Milord?” Parks asked, noticing the sheen of perspiration on his patient’s face and thinking Quinn was overly hot. “Would you like some ice chips?”

“I’d like a goblet of cold water,” Quinn replied.

Parks shook his head. “Ice chips only, I’m afraid. But you can have as many of those as you’d like.”

“Whoopee,” Quinn sneered. “That’ll have to do.”

The med tech walked over to the refrigeration unit and put a stainless steel goblet under the ice dispenser. He filled the goblet half full and brought it back to the TAOS unit. He pushed a button and the glass cover slid back. “Here you go, Milord,” he said as he picked up a small sliver of ice and brought it to Quinn’s cracked lips.

Soothing coolness trickled down his throat and Quinn tried to pretend the agony in his knees wasn’t turning him inside out. If he couldn’t stand the pain of the healing treatment, he’d never be able to endure the torture reserved for him by the Coalition.