Chapter 8
Darcio was many things, but a fool had never been one of them.
He was respectfully cautious as he watched his Prime prowl the common room in a deep, moody pacing that would’ve set up the hackles of any Sánge who happened to stumble on their predatory king.
Darcio was Shadow. Always there, but silent and unobtrusive.
His ability to be so had earned him his exalted position as the Prime of Jeth’s personal bodyguard, so he wasn’t about to change his habits now.
Not that Reule looked like he was much in the mood for conversing, in any event.
A servant entered the vicinity and Darcio quickly came to attention, waving the unsuspecting man back to a safe distance from their agitated Prime.
“What is it?” Darcio asked.
“There is … That is, a farmer has come to request assistance, and he is waiting …”
“Why do you disturb me with this?” Reule’s barked demand made the Sánge attendant leap in his own skin and he went pale beneath his normal swarthiness.
Keep attendants were aware of Reule being a gruff and even sometimes impatient man, but he was never mean or cruel.
The servant’s reaction was a testament to the rawness of Reule’s tone.
“Rye is Prime Blade, and he’s in his offices today.
It’s his duty to award assistances. Why do you come to me? ”
“M-my Prime,” the attendant stammered hastily, “it’s not the type of assistance you think. The farmer doesn’t wish to see any of the Packmates.”
“Well, then who?” Reule asked sharply.
But Darcio instinctively already knew and, fearing Reule’s volatility, he dug for truth and clarity in the attendant’s mind. Thought flooded him and instantly confirmed his suspicions about what was happening.
“Tell the farmer that he cannot be helped today. He can return in a day or two. She’ll be ready to receive visitors then.”
Reule’s head snapped to attention before the attendant had even begun to reply and Darcio realized his mistake a moment too late. He shouldn’t have said “she.”
“A farmer has come to see Mystique? How does a commoner know of Mystique? For that matter, what assistance would he ask of her?”
“My Prime,” the attendant said with surprising aplomb, “there is hardly anyone in Jeth who hasn’t heard of the foundling woman. The apothecary alone was—”
“The apothecary?” Reule roared.
“Apparently, our apothecary has taken his leave,” Darcio answered for the servant.
“On his way out of the city, he had a great deal to say, to any and all who would listen, about your ‘outlander whore,’ My Prime. As the apothecary told it, she dismissed him after she insulted him and all Sánge. The physic then informed his listeners that she was single-handedly going to be responsible for the death of the Prime Tracker because she’s using her outlander ways on him. ”
“By the Lord and Lady, the bastard will pay for that! He knew full well Chayne was near dead at his hands already!”
“Of course,” Darcio agreed, his manner still casual and unconcerned. “That was the point, I’m certain. No matter what we said, if Chayne were to die, the ‘outlander whore’ would be responsible and we’d just be covering the truth of it.”
“If anyone calls her that again, Darcio, I will personally gut them,” Reule spat roughly.
“Your pardon, My Prime,” Darcio said sincerely, following it up with a charming sort of grin meant to ease his leader’s temper. “But let’s not forget the farmer, Reule.”
“The farmer,” Reule repeated, his brows drawing down in thought. “Why has a farmer come to seek Mystique after the apothecary’s lies?”
“Firstly, My Prime,” the attendant said quickly, “there’s no longer an apothecary for the people to go to. He even took his two apprentices with him. Therefore, the only healer that remains is the one who challenged and usurped the former physic’s position.”
“Mystique,” Reule breathed. “But he warned them she was going to kill a Packmate. That’s as bad as accusing her of trying to assassinate me.”
“Secondly, My Prime,” the attendant continued methodically, “I believe the farmer’s son is considered terminally ill, and that he would try anything, even the ways of an outlander … uh … woman.” The attendant flushed when Darcio snickered. “He has nothing left to lose.”
“I don’t care what the father’s motivation is, only that the boy is in need.”
All three males turned to see Mystique walking rapidly past the common area, skirts swishing around her determined steps.
She was twisting her hair up quickly, looking for all the world like a woman about to take care of serious business.
Darcio watched as Reule all but ran to catch her by the arm and stop her progress.
“Kébé, you’re supposed to be resting.”
“Yes, I know,” she said, trying to gently extract her arm.
She might as well have been trying to escape a prison.
Her glare at his hand also did little good.
Darcio had to bite his lip to keep from making any sounds of amusement.
He leaned back in his chair as if watching a sporting event.
The Shadow was amused by Reule’s behavior.
He was protective by nature, but this was downright proprietary.
“Reule,” Mystique said with obvious exasperation, “I feel fine. Look at my arms. See?” She held out her free forearm, which was left bare by the elbow-length sleeve of her dove gray velvet gown.
Mystique’s gesture showed off the nearly healed expanse of her arm, only bruises remaining of what had been ugly and painful wounds the previous evening.
Amando had been correct. A single night’s rest had done wonders for her.
However, Darcio could see she was still unusually pale and there were shadows beneath her eyes.
Healing Chayne and then herself had taken its toll.
Mystique’s straight spine and no-nonsense bravado was more than an act, though.
Darcio didn’t doubt for a moment that she’d find whatever resources it took if she needed to.
“Mystique, you look exhausted. One night of rest after what you did for Chayne isn’t enough. You’re barely recovered from your own wounds, kébé. You can’t keep pushing like this.”
“I feel fine,” she insisted. “Better than I have in a while.”
This time, she did not pull away. Darcio watched as she leaned closer to Reule, her small body fitting to his bigger one and somehow matching perfectly against him.
The Shadow’s eyes widened at her bold public familiarity, and the whiplash of response from his Prime that snapped like lightning through the Pack connection.
He glanced at the attendant, who looked like he needed to sit down very badly.
Darcio hardly blamed him. Outlander or no, it’d been a long time since anyone had seen Reule welcome the affections of a fertile female.
Not since he was an adolescent, Darcio recalled more specifically.
But even with his mistresses, Reule had never been one for public affection.
Her tactic was obvious and almost devious in its upfront nature, if that contradiction were possible.
It was certainly powerful, if the look on Reule’s face was anything to go by.
And that was totally discounting what he was inadvertently emanating to his sensitive Packmates.
Not that the Pack wasn’t already completely aware of the way Reule was responding to the pretty stranger.
Every time the two of them touched, it had a tidal effect that crashed through all seven men.
The Prime was the epicenter, and the shock wave would radiate out to the others.
Darcio had never felt anything like it. Not from Reule, not from anyone.
The result was breathtaking and arousing.
Even now his heart was racing madly, echoing the leap his Prime’s had taken.
The entire Pack was unable to wholly protect themselves from so powerful a psychic feedback.
The mistresses of the Pack were getting a fair dose of feedback themselves as a result.
It was the first time Reule had ever given himself over to the full power of the mnise, and with an entire Pack within the age of mnise it was bound to have volatile repercussions.
Especially given Reule’s emanation ability and the difficulty of controlling it when he was feeling emotional extremes.
This was what had set Delano and Saber to worrying.
However, after what she’d done for Chayne last night, Darcio doubted there would be another sound of protest from the Pack where Mystique was concerned.
“Considering the length of your memory and the physical state you’ve been in for your five days of awareness, that isn’t truly saying much,” Reule said wryly to her, although his fingers had come up to sweep over the arch of her left brow in a gesture of tenderness.
Mystique lowered her arm and gave him a patient smile.
“Reule, there’s no apothecary in your city.
” Her nose wrinkled when she thought of the odious physic who had failed at his duties and maligned her as well.
Darcio suspected she wasn’t concerned with the latter much at all.
“Despite his questionable competency, he served a purpose. There will be fear, even among brave Sánge, if they feel there’s nowhere to turn when illness and injury strike. ”
She used Reule’s reaction to her logic as an opportunity to slip out of his lax hands, stepping around him in order to confront Darcio, who quickly rose to his feet.
“I’ll need Pariedes and Drago to help me.
I need rooms, somewhere on the ground floor.
One room with good light, and the other a dark, cool room close by the first with no natural light whatsoever so I can store herbs and medicinais.
A hearth in each. I’ll need many sturdy shelves, a few cots. ”
“You wish to create an infirmary in the keep?” Darcio asked:
“Where better? Unless you prefer to move me to my own lodgings in the city proper where—”