Chapter Twenty-Three

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

H e couldn't breathe.

He could hardly think or see, either. All he could do was feel, and what he felt went beyond words. Anguish. Grief. Horror. Pain. Agony. Anything that encompassed the torment in his heart was what he was feeling.

His spirit was dying.

Everything was dying.

It was dawn on an annoyingly bright spring day, much as the previous days had dawned bright and lovely. But today was anything but lovely. It was dark and horrific. Athdara was upstairs, horribly wounded and being tended to by Ming Tang and a physic from Exebridge, and all Tay could do was sit there and wait for them to tell him that she was gone.

But he wasn't waiting alone.

Fox, Sinclair, Kristian, Aamir, St. Sebastian, and St. Denis were with him, like part of some ghoulish vigil, waiting for the arrival of death. Tay didn't want them there, but he couldn't summon the energy to tell them to leave, so they all sat around, staring at each other, staring at him.

He hated it.

He hated all of it.

Tay hadn't said a word since Athdara had been brought back to his cottage, mortally wounded. Ming Tang had been carrying her, and all he could tell Tay was that he found her in the stable. A man had tried to kill her, but she'd killed him instead. Word had spread about the attack, and quickly, Fox and Sinclair arrived, wanting to know what had happened. Tay couldn't tell them. Aamir and St. Denis arrived, demanding to know what had happened. Tay still couldn't tell them. Marina, who had been asleep in the attic when Athdara was brought back, was now running about like a madwoman, gathering water and anything else the physic needed. Even now, Tay could hear her heavy footsteps overhead.

He felt as if he was living a nightmare.

For hours, he hadn't said a word. He simply sat in a chair, elbows on his knees and leaning his chin into his clasped hands. He was staring at the fire as if hypnotized by it. As the sun rose and the groups of recruits began to train all over the Blackchurch compound, Tay continued to sit. Bowen even came to see why he'd not shown up for his session, but Fox muttered a few words to the man and sent him away.

Bowen would handle the session today.

Once he was gone and the cottage became the site of a vigil once again, a pounding on the cottage door pierced the silence. Fox went to open it, and Payne appeared, holding a frightened servant by the scruff of his neck. He dragged the man into Tay's common room.

"I found him," Payne announced. "He was in the stable when the lady was attacked and saw the whole thing. Tay, this man has something tae tell ye!"

That snapped Tay out of his trance. He turned to see one of the stable servants cowering in terror, and he rose unsteadily from his chair.

As he focused on the servant, Sinclair spoke to Payne. "And the body of the man who attacked the lady?" he asked. "Where is it?"

Payne grunted. "Creston and Cruz took care of it," he said. "The man is food for the fish now. But the priests in town have caught wind of what happened, and they're demanding the bones."

Sinclair frowned. "How did the priests from Exebridge hear about this attack?"

Payne shrugged. "When the physic was summoned," he said. "Servants talk, ye know. They'll tell anyone who will listen. Word travels, Sin. Ye know that."

"Where are Cres and Cruz now?"

"Tellin' the priests that the coming of Christ will happen sooner than the appearance of that bastard's bones."

Sinclair lifted his eyebrows, looking to St. Denis, who simply waved him off. Such was a man's ending when he displeased Blackchurch. It had been that way for decades.

Cause an offense at Blackchurch and one's body was never seen again.

" You, " Tay said to the servant. "You were there when the lady was wounded?"

All attention abruptly turned to the terrified servant, who nodded unsteadily. "Aye, my lord," he said. "I am tasked with sleeping with the animals at night. In case something happens. I was there."

Tay was trying desperately to keep his composure. "But where have you been?" he demanded. "The soldiers at the north gate said you came running to them in a panic about what happened in the stable, and then you disappeared. We had to send Payne out to find you."

The servant took a deep breath. "I… I was afraid, my lord," he said. "Afraid that someone might try to kill me, too."

Tay sighed sharply. "There is no more killing to be done today," he said. "Tell me what you know about the attack on the lady, and do not leave anything out."

The servant swallowed. "I was awoken by sounds of a fight, my lord," he said. "I had been sleeping, so I did not hear if anything was said. I woke up and they were fighting. So much fighting. Then the man stabbed the woman, and she killed him with his dagger. I heard her ask for help before she fell. That is all I can tell you, my lord, I swear it."

"Tay," Fox said softly. "Good Christ…"

Tay looked over at his colleague, who seemed increasingly horrified. "What?" he demanded. "What is it?"

Fox seemed genuinely distressed. "It is possible…" he said, then paused before resuming. "Tay, is it possible this was not a random attack?"

"Be plain, man."

Fox cocked an eyebrow. "Think about it," he said. "Remember the bounty hunter those weeks ago? Remember that he told us there was another, but we could never find him?"

Tay's eyes widened. "My God," he breathed. "He was here all along. The second bounty hunter was here at Blackchurch!"

Fox could only nod as the attack began to make some sense. "He must have made it inside the walls somehow," he said. "He knew she was here—the other bounty hunter knew she was here—so he made it inside, and he finally found her."

Tay was feeling even sicker at the realization. "That must have been what happened," he said. "But how did she end up in the stable? I do not understand why she was there in the middle of the night."

At that point, St. Sebastian threw his father a long look, but St. Denis refused to look at him. They knew exactly why Athdara had been in the stable. The only other person who knew was Ming Tang, and he was in the chamber with her upstairs, trying to save her life. St. Sebastian very much wanted to tell Tay what he knew, but he wasn't like his brother. He didn't override his father or disobey orders. He kept silent, but he didn't think it was the right thing to do. Tay was trying to make sense out of a horrific situation. But it was possible that knowing why she was there would bring him even more grief.

Perhaps it was better not to tell him.

At least, not now.

As St. Sebastian wrestled with the dilemma, Ming Tang appeared on the stairs. Tay's focus shifted from the frightened servant to his friend in an instant. He almost ran Ming Tang down in his haste to reach him.

"Is she dead?" he demanded. "God, don't tell me that she's dead."

Ming Tang held up a hand. "Calm yourself, my friend," he said. "She is not dead. She is awake, and she is asking for you. But I must speak to you first."

All of the color drained out of Tay's face, and he put his hand over his mouth as if to hold in whatever cry of pain or relief he was feeling. It threatened to burst out of him at any second. But he nodded to Ming Tang, still keeping his hand over his mouth.

"She is not dead, but the wound is very bad," Ming Tang said. "When the dagger penetrated her, it cut into her vital innards. But it was worse when she pulled it out—the dagger had a jagged edge, and it pulled some of those innards with it. The physic and I think we have put everything back where it belongs, and we have cleaned the wound and stitched it tightly, but she has lost a good deal of blood. I do not know what her fate is. For now, we must wait and see. She is a very sick lady. Do you understand what I have told you?"

Tay nodded and dropped his hand from his mouth. "I do," he said, sounding rather weak. "May I speak with her now?"

Ming Tang nodded. "Not for long," he said. "She must rest."

"I will not be long, I promise."

"Do not speak of Toxandria or her journey. She still wants to go, but clearly, she cannot."

"I will not speak of it."

"All you will speak of is her recovery."

"Has she told you who did this to her?"

Ming Tang hesitated. "She did," he said. "She said it was a bounty hunter she recognized."

Somewhere behind Tay, Fox hissed as their suspicions were confirmed. Tay didn't know if he felt better or worse about that.

"But he is dead," he growled. "He is the only one we knew of, so there cannot be any more."

"Let us hope not," Ming Tang said. "But do not press her about it, please. If she wants to tell you, she will. We must keep her calm."

Tay nodded wearily. Summoning his strength, he headed up the stairs and into his bedchamber.

He'd put her in this room because the bed was bigger and there was more room to work for whatever healing she needed. The chamber was dim and smelled heavily of cloves and peppermint, thought to purify the air of bad spirits that could hinder healing. He could see the physic from Exebridge standing at the head of the bed with Marina next to him, holding a bowl with rags in it. The moment Tay set foot in the chamber, Athdara's head turned in his direction.

"Tay," she said weakly.

She extended her right arm to him, and he quickly came into the chamber, reaching out to take her hand. Ming Tang had told him that she must be kept calm, so he smiled warmly at her as he took a knee beside the bed. He held her hand in both of his, bringing it to his lips for a few gentle kisses and trying desperately not to let his sadness overwhelm him.

"I am here, love," he said softly. "I am here and I will not leave you."

Athdara was as pale as the linens she lay upon, but her eyes still had life in them. They were still glimmering. "Did Ming Tang tell you what happened?" she asked, hardly above a whisper. "It was a bounty hunter. I had seen him before. He found me and told me he wanted to take my head back to my uncle."

Still holding her hand, Tay reached out to stroke her head tenderly. "He is dead now," he said quietly. "Creston and Cruz took care of him, so I can only imagine he is in a thousand pieces, all of them being fed to the dogs. You needn't worry over him anymore. He is no longer a threat."

She nodded, still looking at him, but it was clear that there was something on her mind. Then she burst into tears.

"I am not going to survive, am I?"

He kissed her hand again before leaning over to kiss her cheek to give her comfort. "Of course you are," he whispered. "You are going to survive, and we shall get married and have a dozen children. You are not going to die for a very long time."

But Athdara would not be soothed. "I am so sorry," she said, sobbing. "I thought it would be the best thing to do."

He wasn't sure what she was talking about. "What would?"

"Leaving you behind."

His confusion grew. "When were you to leave me behind?"

She held his hand in a death grip. "Please do not be angry with me."

"I would never be angry with you, but what are you talking about?"

"I was going to leave you," she said, tears running down her temples and onto the pillow. "I did not want you coming with me to Toxandria and then resenting me in the years to come for taking you away from Blackchurch, so I was going to leave without you."

Now things were making more sense to him. "So you were in the stable to leave me?"

"Aye," she murmured. "I am so sorry. I did not want to, but I felt it was best for you."

"You were trying to make the decision for me."

"Aye."

He drew in a long, labored breath. He'd promised her to not become angry, so he wouldn't, but it did explain why she'd been in the stable. A scolding would have to wait.

"And the bounty hunter was waiting in the stable for you?"

She shook her head weakly. "I do not know," she said. "He simply… appeared."

Tay couldn't help but notice that her lip was split and she had the makings of an ugly black eye. It was his first hint that the confrontation in the stable must have been more than a simple stabbing. It had been a battle.

Reaching out, he touched her eye, her lip. "It looks like you gave him quite a fight," he said. "I am proud of you, love. You fought well. Most importantly, you won."

That seemed to bolster her, just a little. "I was so afraid," she said. "Afraid I would never see you again."

He bent over, kissing her on the lips this time, trying to give her what comfort he could. She had taken a horrible thrashing, but he struggled not to linger on it. He struggled not to beat himself up over the fact that he hadn't been there, had been unable to help her. He only wanted to think of her getting well at the moment.

He couldn't stomach anything else.

"Here I am," he said. "You are going to see me every day for the rest of your life. All you need to do is concentrate on healing. That is your only task right now."

She labored to calm down, but Tay noticed that she seemed to be very sleepy. Her eyes kept rolling back even as she struggled to keep them open.

"Tell me you love me," she said.

He smiled faintly. "I love you," he said. "Until the mountains crumble and the seas run dry. And even longer still."

"Swear it?"

"With all that I am, I do."

"Tay?"

"What, love?"

"I want to see Niko before I die."

His composure took a blow. "You are not going to die," he said. "I told you so. Do you not believe me?"

"I believe you," she said, finally closing her eyes and keeping them closed. "But I still want to see him. I have missed him so very much."

Tay knew she wasn't thinking clearly because of the wound and the stress, and possibly the medicaments she'd been given. He'd been wounded himself in the past—in a skirmish in the Levant that he wasn't sure he would ever heal from. He'd taken a sword to the thigh, and the wound had festered, so he completely understood the state of mind of a wounded man or woman. One tended to be more emotional and reflect on things more deeply. Perhaps it was the body's way of preparing for the worst.

Whatever the case, he understood her request, and he was sympathetic to it because everything she'd done had been for her little brother. If there had been no Nikolai, her drive wouldn't have been as great. She could have started a new life for herself without the burden of regaining her father's duchy. But a little boy needed his big sister, and she had been fighting for him. Tay already loved her, but realizing how selfless she was made him love her even more.

Even if she had tried to leave him behind.

"Sleep," he said gently, kissing her on the forehead. "Sleep now. I will be here if you need me."

Her eyes were still closed, but she grabbed for his hand. "You will not leave?"

"I swear, I will not leave."

That seemed to give her a great amount of comfort, and she settled down, finally drifting off to sleep. Carefully, he disengaged his hand from hers, glancing up at Marina to make sure she knew not to leave her post. She was to remain next to that bed in case Athdara needed anything.

Tay turned away from the bed, not feeling much better than he had when he entered the chamber. He'd spoken to Athdara and understood what happened, but she was still gravely ill. That was all he was truly concerned with.

Ming Tang was standing at the door when Tay quit the chamber. The two of them paused in the corridor outside, looking into the chamber and watching Marina stand guard.

Tay sighed heavily. "What are you doing for her?" he asked quietly. "If her innards were exposed…"

They both knew what that meant. Men didn't often survive such a wound.

Ming Tang lifted his shoulders. "It is difficult to say what will happen," he said. "As you know, part of my Shaolin training has been in healing."

Tay nodded. "I know," he said. "I know you have healed many a man around Blackchurch over the years."

"But this is different," Ming Tang said. "The lady's body was assaulted. Invaded. I have given her what I can—some call it the joy flower, some the sleeping flower. Whatever it is called, the flower seeps a special sap. The resulting powder, mixed with water, can bring out the most remarkable cure for pain. I gave her some earlier when we had to put her innards back into her body and sew it up."

Tay closed his eyes briefly, warding off the horror of what Athdara had to endure. "But the poison comes afterwards," he said. "Poison always comes from something like this. What will you do?"

Ming Tang's gaze moved to the still figure on the bed. "Whatever I can," he said. "There are ancient Arabic recipes for such things. I will use them if I must. But I will tell you this, Tay—you must prepare yourself for what is to come. I will try to save her, but I may not be able to. Her wound is very bad."

Tay flexed his jaw, resigning himself to what he knew was probably inevitable.

Hanging his head, he leaned back against the doorjamb. "It was bound to happen," he muttered. "I finally find happiness, a woman I love more than life itself, and she may have to leave me. One way or the other, God does not want me to be happy. But to lose her like this… I am not entirely sure I can stand it."

Ming Tang put his hand on his friend's arm. "You will survive," he said. "For her, you must be strong. May I tell you something?"

"Aye."

Ming Tang thought about what he wanted to say and how he wanted to say it. "I was with St. Denis when Lady Athdara came to tell him that she did not want you to go with her to Toxandria," he said. "Mayhap I should not tell you this, but it is important you understand the sacrifice the lady was willing to make for you. She knew that you had worked hard for your position at Blackchurch. She knew that, if you went with her, you would essentially be leaving Blackchurch with dishonor."

"There is no dishonor in resigning from Blackchurch."

"When you resign to take sides in a feud that is not your fight, there is," Ming Tang said rather firmly. "That is one of the cornerstones of Blackchurch's foundation, that we must always remain neutral. The lady knew this, and she was willing to sacrifice her happiness so that you would not have to surrender your honor. She wrote you a missive ensuring you would not follow her."

"No missive would keep me from following her."

"This one would."

His tone implied that the missive contained something ominous. Tay wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know what it was.

"Did you see this missive?" he asked.

Ming Tang nodded. "I did."

"Will you tell me what it said?"

A pause. "It does not matter now," Ming Tang said. "It was all lies."

"Where is it?"

"In St. Denis' solar. He was to give it to you when she'd gone."

"Tell him to burn it."

Ming Tang thought that was the right course of action at this point. Whatever was in that missive was meaningless now. Athdara was facing a much greater fight, and she would need all of Tay's support and strength.

"I will," he said. "But remember that it was her right to tell you not to come with her. This is her battle, after all."

Tay slumped back against the wall, rubbing his eyes. "I know," he said. "The fight to regain Toxandria is not my fight, but because I love her, it has become my fight. You are a man I trust and respect, Ming Tang, but I will disagree with you if you tell me I cannot fight for the woman I love. That her sorrow does not become my sorrow."

Ming Tang smiled faintly. "I suppose I cannot fault you that," he said. "Men have been fighting women's causes for centuries. There is no dishonor in that. But according to Blackchurch…"

"There is if I leave to fight someone else's battle."

"Aye."

Tay lifted his head to look at his colleague. "Then you are going to like this even less," he said. "If she does not survive, I will take up her cause. I will return to Toxandria and fight to regain it for her brother. I am sorry if you feel that is wrong, but I cannot help what I feel. I would not be doing justice to her memory or the love we share if I did not fight her battle for her."

Ming Tang's smile grew. "I would expect nothing less from you," he said. "Now, go. Train your recruits. I will watch over her as she sleeps."

Tay looked at him. "Are you mad?" he said. "I cannot train while she lies here wounded. I told her I would not leave. I meant it."

"There is nothing you can do," Ming Tang said. "At least rest yourself if you will not train. You have been up most of the night. Find a bed, and I will send you word if anything changes."

It was the best Tay could hope for at this point. After putting a big hand on Ming Tang's shoulder to let him know that he appreciated everything, Tay headed down to the common room just as the cottage door opened. Creston and Cruz came through. They caught him at the base of the stairs.

"How is the lady?" Creston asked.

Tay nodded. "Alive," he said. "The wound was quite serious, however. She sleeps now. What did you do with the man she killed?"

Creston cocked a blond eyebrow. "What you would have done had you been there," he said. "He joins our other enemies at the bottom of Lake Cocytus, only in his case, he was not in one piece."

Tay looked between the pair—the fair-haired knight who looked as if he didn't have a rotten bone in his body and the dark, sultry Spaniard who looked as if he ate babies for breakfast. Creston and Cruz were the best of friends, often doing things in a pair, as they had tonight. They were true to the bone, and some of the most trustworthy men Tay knew.

And that gave him an idea.

"I would like to ask something of you two," he said. "I would have to get permission from Lord Exmoor, but I would like you to do something for me."

"Anything," Creston said. "What do you need?"

Tay told them. Five minutes later, they had St. Denis' reluctant permission, simply because he didn't like his trainers gallivanting around England, but Tay convinced him that they could spare Creston and Cruz for a couple of weeks. There were enough trainers and assistants to fill in.

As it turned out, Tay had an important mission for them, something they were more than happy to undertake, and they were gone before the day was out.

All Tay could do, at that point, was pray.