For the briefest moment, Xanthus seemed to regard the prince with sadness. Then his expression hardened. He turned away.
Naked from the waist up, the Darkling’s human muscles glistened in the candlelight. In one hand he held a black knotted cord. After taking several steps across the dais, he faced northwest and sat on his knees. For several long moments the Darkling bowed his head.
His self-inflicted penitence started slowly. Lashing his naked back, Xanthus opened up wound after gaping wound. As the blows quickened, his blood started flowing down his back and onto the floor, mingling with that of his victims.
As the lashings continued, Tristan suddenly found that he could close his eyes. That must have been Xanthus’ doing, but he was at a complete loss about why.
If I can shut this out, I will, he thought, as more tears streaked down beneath his hated mask. Since the Coven’s return, I have witnessed the horrors of a thousand lifetimes. I needn’t watch this.
As the knotted line continued to split Xanthus’ skin, the enchanted townspeople watched blankly. Tristan of the House of Galland shut his bleary eyes.
CHAPTER XV
AS HE WINGED THROUGH THE AIR, TRAAX SEARCHEDthe countryside for landmarks. He had pushed his airborne phalanx hard and without pause in his attempt to reach the pass as fast as possible. He knew that Shailiha was right. TheJin’Sai ’s life could hang in the balance.
It was midday in Eutracia, and the sky was clear. The sun hung directly overhead, warming the warriors’ wings. If their endurance held, they would reach the pass within the hour. Traax smiled. It would be good to see Gaius again.
Traax was proud of the warriors flying with him. After receiving his orders from Shailiha, he had asked for volunteers. There had no been no shortage from whom to pick. The fifty accompanying him were the best of the best.
He hoped that his chosen warriors could fly to the pass nonstop, yet arrive fresh enough to fight. So far, they had proven him right. Time was of the essence. Traveling light, they bore no supply litters. When they reached the pass they would live in true warrior style, taking what they needed from the land.
Realizing that he was thirsty again, Traax reached back to grasp his canteen. Minion warriors could go for days without food, but water was a constant need. Knowing that they were nearing their destination, he gulped down all that remained.
Seeing their commander drink, the fifty obedient warriors followed suit. A revered Minion tenet stated that a commander must be willing to personally suffer whatever he demanded from his charges. Conversely, while on a mission no subordinate could take rest or sustenance until his leader did so first. There were many warrior ranks, but they all shared this common bond. It was more than good discipline. It was a matter of honor.
Traax could easily have navigated his way to the pass by following the gouge left by the once-rampaging Orb of the Vigors. But taking that meandering path would have wasted valuable time. He had therefore chosen to fly by dead reckoning. Prominent landmarks, the position of the sun, and wind variables had determined the way.
Traax was one of the best navigators in the entire Minion force. More important, he had faith in his abilities. Unless he missed his guess, they would soon fly directly over Fledgling House. Covering the distance from there to the pass would be brief. Confident that he was on the right course, he allowed his mind to drift back to the pleasant time just before he had assembled his troops.
Hearing of his imminent departure, Duvessa had rushed to join him in his quarters. Dried blood from the masquerade ball victims still showed on her hands, forearms, and armor. A white feather lay stitched across a red one on her chest armor, indicating her premier rank as a warrior-healer. Reaching out, Traax pulled her to him.
“Was it bad?” he asked.
Duvessa nodded. She was a handsome Minion female, and she considered Traax her equal. Besides leading all the Minion healers, she also commanded the female warriors. She bore the mantles well.
Duvessa briefly closed her eyes. “We and the acolytes did all we could for them,” she answered, “but Faegan’s bolts were powerful. Who could have guessed that it would pass through the Darkling like that? Five died straightaway. Three were human and two were Minion. Twelve more were seriously wounded. The survivors’ destinies lie with the fates. How is Faegan?”
Traax’s expression darkened. “He will live,” he answered. “But when he realizes how many he accidentally killed and wounded, I fear he might never be the same.”
Holding up her hands, Duvessa regarded the dried blood. “Such strange beings, these humans,” she said. “Some are gifted with the craft and some are not. They are not as physically powerful as we. But their loyalty and honor can be equally strong. Sometimes I believe we share more with them than we know. As our blood mingles with theirs, I cannot tell them apart.”
Traax looked thoughtfully into her eyes. He had known many Minion females. But not one had possessed the strength, the heart, or the ability to love that this one did. Since her first husband’s death and her subsequent mourning period, she and Traax had been together. During that time she had never asked for more than he had been able to give.
Duvessa placed her palms on Traax’s chest. Concern showed on her face.
“Come home safe,” she said. “I know you have defeated many enemies. But this Darkling possesses gifts that baffle even the wizards. I am forced to agree with Shailiha. The pass is the likely place where he entered Eutracia. If that is true, it will also be his way back. You might come face-to-face with him again.”
“Then let it be so,” Traax answered quietly.
The realization that he must leave her crowded in on him again. How would it affect him, he wondered, should he lose this woman? She had become his reason for being, second only to his allegiance to hisJin’Sai. Searching her eyes, he decided.
“Stand back, my love,” he said gently.
A confused look crossed Duvessa’s face. She did as he asked.
Stretching his back, Traax snapped open his dark wings, then gently closed them around her. Among their kind, such a revealing gesture occurred rarely. Her heart in her throat, she returned his gaze.
Opening his wings again, Traax repeated the gesture. Can this be happening? Duvessa asked herself. I hadn’t dared to hope…
Traax parted his wings once more. As Duvessa felt them closing about her for the third time, a tear left one eye.
There could be no mistaking his meaning. According to Minion custom, the first time his wings surrounded her, he was saying how much he honored her. The second time confirmed his love for her. The third time told her that he wanted them to marry.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“Yes-with all my heart.”
“Then my answer is yes,” she said softly. She had never meant anything more deeply.
Their personal bond was sealed. But according to Minion custom, two more things needed be done to announce their betrothal.
With his wings still surrounding her, Traax extended a hand to unclasp a gold pin attached to the chest area of his leather body armor. Soon after the Minions were released from the Coven’s domination over them and they came under Tristan’s aegis, theJin’Sai had allowed them to marry according to their wishes and without permission from a higher authority. Traax had seized on the idea of showing intended betrothal among the Minions by ordering the warrior goldsmiths among them to fashion two distinct types of pins. Each pin was round in shape and it held a jewel in its center. The pin worn by unattached males held a bright, round turquoise, while the pin for the single females secured a round, red ruby in its center.
After unclasping his turquoise pin, Traax attached it to Duvessa’s armor. Then Duvessa returned the gesture, attaching her ruby pin to Traax’s armor. From this moment until their wedding day, every Minion would know that
