Savage Messiah

CHAPTER XVIII

Saddened and angered by what he saw, Tristan walked slowly among the wounded still filling the palace courtyard. The Orb of the Vigors had done this, and it infuriated him to be waiting here rather than taking some kind of action to stop it.

The sun had just started to set over the western wall of the palace. The songbirds had quieted, and the turquoise of the sky had slowly faded into the deeper indigo of evening. The stars and moons would be out soon, and with them would come the comforting chirps of the night creatures.

All about him, torches were lit, their soft glow throwing shadows across the walls and grounds. Minion healers continued to work hard tending the wounded. He had walked by Duvessa only moments ago, and they had nodded to each other. Her white cutter's smock had been covered with blood.

By now, some of the wounded had left their care. Others whose injuries made it impossible for them to travel had stayed behind. To the prince it seemed that the palace still overflowed with them. Tents had been erected for those well enough to sleep outdoors in the courtyard. They gave the entire place the chilling look of a military field hospital. In many ways, he supposed that it was.

He had tried to converse with some of the patients. A few spoke to him, but most only looked up at him in anger and distrust-as though he had somehow trapped them here on purpose. Eventually he gave up and walked on, his head lowered.

He desperately wanted to hear from Geldon, but no word had come. Tristan worried about both the dwarf and Ox. Each had saved his life more than once, and he owed them more than he could ever repay. He couldn't stop wondering where the orb had traveled after its deadly assault on Brook Hollow. Had more of his people been killed?

A sudden breeze came up, bringing with it the familiar scent of myrrh.

Smiling, he turned to see Celeste approach. She wore a light blue gown with matching slippers. A strand of freshwater pearls lay elegantly around her neck. The glow from the torches created highlights in her long, red hair. But as she came nearer, Tristan's smile dissolved. It was clear that something was wrong.

Finally reaching him, she took him in her arms and held him close. When they parted, he saw that her eyes were shining with tears. She wiped them away with one hand.

Tristan ran one of his palms across her cheek. "What is it? Has something happened?"

Shaking her hair back over one shoulder, Celeste composed herself. "Shailiha told me I might find you here," she said softly. "I need to speak to you. Is there someplace we might go to be alone?"

"Of course."

He led her around one side of the palace, through a manicured gap in a tall witherblossom hedge, and then on into another yard. They sat together on one of the marble benches that lay along the edge of the grass.

This had once been his mother's private gardens. None of the wounded were here. The gardens had long been in disrepair. Still, just being here and away from the depressing courtyard almost made Tristan forget his troubles.

When he looked back into Celeste's eyes, her anxiousness crowded in on him again. "What is it?" he asked.

Taking both of his hands into hers, she looked him in the eyes.

"I am not with child," she said.

Looking down for a moment, Tristan took a deep breath. "I see." Reaching up, he placed one palm upon her cheek. "How long have you known?"

"Three days," she answered. "I wanted to tell you sooner. But you and Father had already gone searching for the orb." She looked away.

"I'm sorry, my love," she said so softly he could barely hear her. "In truth, I didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed-I suppose it is a little of both. But at least for now, it is not to be. And perhaps, worst of all, we still do not know if we can ever be intimate with each other again." She paused.

"I miss you in that way," she whispered then. "More than you could ever know."

Reaching out, he lifted her face back to his. "And I you," he said. "Have you told your father?"

Celeste shook her head. "Only Shailiha," she answered. "I needed someone to talk to while you were away. We have become close, she and I."

The moonlight showed a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Shailiha tells me that you used to be quite a handful when you were growing up," she said. "But now between your twin sister and me, you don't stand a chance of misbehaving."

Tristan smiled back. "How true."

He took her in his arms and kissed her hard on the mouth. As he held her, he could feel her body rise up to meet his and hear her breathing quicken.

Then, summoning his will, he took her by the shoulders and gently moved her away. As he did, her head arched back, exposing her lovely throat to the moonlight. The anger he felt about his azure blood began to boil over again, and with a long sigh, he forced it back down. Eutracia needed both his and Celeste's gifts right now. Protecting his land and the craft had to take precedence over personal needs.

Bending over, he gave Celeste one last kiss-a brief one, almost chaste. Then, his arm around her waist, he walked her from the private gardens and on toward the twinkling lights of the palace.