do here BEFORE taking you back with us. Freedom fighting is something we all know quite a bit about.
If you are going to stay here, then we'll stay here with ...."
"No you won't," came the reply. "Not this time. This time you men are going to do what I want you to."
Several voices interrupted with heated denials, but Balizar's shout, brought the argument to a sudden stop.
"Why don't you listen to what the man has to say for once?" Balizar shouted. "You profess to be his followers yet you would have HIM be yours!"
Charlotte Boyett-Compo WINDRETRIEVER 12
"Arbra's right," Asher injected. "Are you not, as are the men of the Samiel, sworn to do as he bids?"
"When it doesn't endanger his life!" Holm shot back.
"Or when we think …," Thom began only to have his Overlord shout him down.
"You think?" Conar thundered. "You think? Since when have any of you men had an original thought not pumped into your head by Shalu Taborn?" He turned his angry glare to the Necroman. "Just because he is the oldest among you does not give him more wisdom than the next man!"
"More wisdom than you," Shalu muttered. He met the enraged stare of Conar McGregor with one of his own. "You've never known what was best for you, brat, and this nonsense about staying here proves it!"
"Let me make my own mistakes, will you?" Conar screamed at them. "I'm the one who will have to pay for them!"
The shout had been so loud, so virulent, all sound ceased in the room. Every eye was on the Serenian Prince. Every face in the room, save his own, showing the shock at the volume of his outburst. He had managed to gain their attention, and their worry, with that inhuman bellow of fury.
"How many more of you do you want me to have to be responsible for burying?" Conar asked, seeing several flinches and one or two scowls. "Isn't six enough?"
"Conar …," Chase started to say in a reasonable voice, but he, too, was shouted down.
"WILL YOU LET ME TALK?"
Catherine watched her husband, seeing the man the world knew as The Darkwind staring down his men. The power of that stare, the unquestionable command in those strange eyes, was enough to quell even the most stubborn of these men. Faces lowered, even as fists clenched, but no one would dare to interrupt him again. The room grew as quiet as the tomb.
"You men have not been where I have been," he finally said in a voice, though not his normal slow Serenian drawl, that was one that demanded the full attention of everyone in the room.
"You have not had to endure what I have endured. You have not lost anywhere near the loved ones I have."
Paegan lifted his head and looked at Conar. The young Viragonian Prince, feeling the loss of his brother, Rylan, keenly, was hurt further by what he thought a callous remark.
"You haven't, Paegan," Conar told him, intercepting the look. "And for the most part, none of you have had to deal with watching that loved one die right before your very eyes." He turned his gaze to Thom. "Not even you."
Catherine reached up to wipe away a tear that had crept unbidden down her cheek. She knew the men could hear the pain and desperation in her husband's voice the same as she could, but she could see no acknowledgement of that on their carefully blank faces. They were watching him as though he were a retarded child to be humored and their attitudes both bewildered and angered her. She found herself clutching her own fists in the confines of her skirt.
"Do any of you know how I felt to hold Hern Arbra in my arms, his blood dripping down my chest, and know I was the cause of him dying?" Conar asked.
"Hern interfered with a guard's duty," Thom protested. He cast a quick look to the dead man's twin brother, Balizar, and found that man glaring back at him.
"Because Hern wanted me to be able to rest," Conar reminded them. "If Hern hadn't wanted what was best for ME, he'd be alive today."
"You didn't cause his death," Sentian mumbled.
Charlotte Boyett-Compo WINDRETRIEVER 13
"Nadia?" Conar
If you are going to stay here, then we'll stay here with ...."
"No you won't," came the reply. "Not this time. This time you men are going to do what I want you to."
Several voices interrupted with heated denials, but Balizar's shout, brought the argument to a sudden stop.
"Why don't you listen to what the man has to say for once?" Balizar shouted. "You profess to be his followers yet you would have HIM be yours!"
Charlotte Boyett-Compo WINDRETRIEVER 12
"Arbra's right," Asher injected. "Are you not, as are the men of the Samiel, sworn to do as he bids?"
"When it doesn't endanger his life!" Holm shot back.
"Or when we think …," Thom began only to have his Overlord shout him down.
"You think?" Conar thundered. "You think? Since when have any of you men had an original thought not pumped into your head by Shalu Taborn?" He turned his angry glare to the Necroman. "Just because he is the oldest among you does not give him more wisdom than the next man!"
"More wisdom than you," Shalu muttered. He met the enraged stare of Conar McGregor with one of his own. "You've never known what was best for you, brat, and this nonsense about staying here proves it!"
"Let me make my own mistakes, will you?" Conar screamed at them. "I'm the one who will have to pay for them!"
The shout had been so loud, so virulent, all sound ceased in the room. Every eye was on the Serenian Prince. Every face in the room, save his own, showing the shock at the volume of his outburst. He had managed to gain their attention, and their worry, with that inhuman bellow of fury.
"How many more of you do you want me to have to be responsible for burying?" Conar asked, seeing several flinches and one or two scowls. "Isn't six enough?"
"Conar …," Chase started to say in a reasonable voice, but he, too, was shouted down.
"WILL YOU LET ME TALK?"
Catherine watched her husband, seeing the man the world knew as The Darkwind staring down his men. The power of that stare, the unquestionable command in those strange eyes, was enough to quell even the most stubborn of these men. Faces lowered, even as fists clenched, but no one would dare to interrupt him again. The room grew as quiet as the tomb.
"You men have not been where I have been," he finally said in a voice, though not his normal slow Serenian drawl, that was one that demanded the full attention of everyone in the room.
"You have not had to endure what I have endured. You have not lost anywhere near the loved ones I have."
Paegan lifted his head and looked at Conar. The young Viragonian Prince, feeling the loss of his brother, Rylan, keenly, was hurt further by what he thought a callous remark.
"You haven't, Paegan," Conar told him, intercepting the look. "And for the most part, none of you have had to deal with watching that loved one die right before your very eyes." He turned his gaze to Thom. "Not even you."
Catherine reached up to wipe away a tear that had crept unbidden down her cheek. She knew the men could hear the pain and desperation in her husband's voice the same as she could, but she could see no acknowledgement of that on their carefully blank faces. They were watching him as though he were a retarded child to be humored and their attitudes both bewildered and angered her. She found herself clutching her own fists in the confines of her skirt.
"Do any of you know how I felt to hold Hern Arbra in my arms, his blood dripping down my chest, and know I was the cause of him dying?" Conar asked.
"Hern interfered with a guard's duty," Thom protested. He cast a quick look to the dead man's twin brother, Balizar, and found that man glaring back at him.
"Because Hern wanted me to be able to rest," Conar reminded them. "If Hern hadn't wanted what was best for ME, he'd be alive today."
"You didn't cause his death," Sentian mumbled.
Charlotte Boyett-Compo WINDRETRIEVER 13
"Nadia?" Conar
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