Balfor's Salvation Page 15

  The guard was already at her side, loosening her chains before Sari finished translating. Then he was unshackling her and within moments she was free. She turned to Balfor. “Tell me what’s happening.”

  Sari tugged on her arm, pulling her away from the posts.

  Balfor took her place between the posts as two male umbrose entered the arena carrying metal extensions. “Later we will talk. You must watch now.”

  The umbrose guard motioned for her and Sari to follow him. Stacia dug in her heels as the umbrose fitted the extensions on to the posts, raising their height. Balfor attached the shackles around his own wrists, then nodded for Ranove to tighten the chains, pulling his arms up until he was in the same position she’d been in.

  She jerked her arm free of Sari’s anxious grip and stepped back towards the whipping posts. “Balfor?”

  He turned a fierce glare on her. “Follow the guard, Stacia. I have other business to attend to. I would have this over with.”

  “But you’re… you can’t do this!” A flash of memory assaulted her of Balfor hanging suspended by chains, his body pierced by half a dozen white-bladed swords. “No!” She pushed away the gut-wrenching image. Balfor had already suffered enough. Her anger at him still would not justify allowing him to suffer this in her stead. “I’ll take the punishment. I don’t want—”

  “Stacia,” Balfor snapped, baring his sharp teeth at her, “you are in danger of causing more offense. Do not disobey me again.”

  She staggered back, nearly tripping over the guard hastening to grab her arm and pull her from the center of the arena. She followed him, not wanting to make things even worse, but kept her head turned to watch Balfor, who stood stoically between the posts.

  The guard didn’t remove her and Sari from the pit, but led them a short distance away to where they remained in full view of the proceedings and the shocked audience. Stacia could still hear what was happening clearly.

  The duke checked the barb without touching it. He asked a question of Balfor. Sari translated. “The barb has toxin?”

  Balfor nodded.

  Stacia gripped Sari’s arm, not taking her eyes off Balfor and Ranove. “What does he mean by toxin?”

  Sari’s voice sounded pained as she tried to break her arm free of Stacia’s grip. “The barb has been coated with the vilna toxin produced by males in combat, so the prince will not immediately heal after being struck. The offense was severe, so the punishment must also be severe.”

  She wanted to rush forward and stop Ranove as he uncoiled the whip. Instead she clung to Sari to hold herself back so she didn’t make things worse. Ranove pulled the whip back and then swung it. There was an ominous crack as it lashed against Balfor's exposed back, followed by a sickening meaty sound when it made contact. When Ranove brought the whip back for a second lash, the tip was dripping with black blood.

  Stacia cringed at each impact of the barbed whip against Balfor’s back. The sound of it tearing through flesh made her stomach churn. The sight of the serpentine coil rising up and then crashing down made her want to fight everyone in the arena to rescue him, but she forced herself to watch. Watching public Censures when she was a child had been a traumatizing experience which made her despise the Diakonos and disbelieve in the Lords who demanded such cruelty. That had been nothing compared to what she now went through, watching her lover suffer under a barbed whip to protect her from the same fate.

  He did not show much outward expression of the pain he must be feeling. His eyes would seek her out from time to time, but mostly, he looked out at the crowd, his jaw tight as each lash struck him. He did not cry out, or even flinch at the crack of the whip. His expression remained stoic, as if the suffering left him unmoved. Rather than make her feel better, it made her feel so much worse for him. Pain was no stranger to Balfor.

  The crowd watched silently. There was no jeering or cheering. The faces of the umbrose were grim. She’d seen humans watch whippings with an eagerness that was obscene, but these umbrose simply endured, just as she was, appearing to take no joy in watching their leader suffer the lash.

  It felt like an eternity had passed by the time the twentieth lash struck out, carving the barb through Balfor’s skin. From where she stood, Stacia could not see his back, but she didn't need to. The whip dripped with black blood. There were puddles of it on the dirt from blood that had run down his back and legs. The barb was caked with torn flesh.

  Ranove’s expression hadn’t changed throughout the entire ordeal, but his wings drooped behind him, and when the final crack of the whip fell silent, he cast it aside if it was a venomous serpent and rushed to unhook the shackles restraining his prince.

  Balfor didn’t even stumble when his arms were released. When he was free, he looked out over the crowd and then his eyes met hers. He turned his back on the crowd, his wings spreading.

  At the sight of his back, Stacia nearly lost it. She slapped her hand over the veil covering her mouth, swallowing the vomit that rose up her throat while fresh tears filled her eyes. It wasn’t the horrible sight of shredded meat that made her ill—she’d seen worse in combat. She’d even seen Balfor in a worse condition, though she fought not to bring that image to mind again. It was the thought of all the pain he had suffered that churned her stomach along with the guilt that she’d been the cause of it. She fell to her knees, shaking from the force of the sobs that built up in her acid-burned throat.

  The duke faced the audience. “The punishment is complete. The concubine’s debt has been paid.” He glanced over at Balfor, and then his dark gaze sought out Stacia, who still kneeled on the ground beside the platform. “Let all who have witnessed this remember the price for such an offense.”

  She knew his words were addressed to her alone, and she felt the weight of their reprimand. It was clear the duke had not approved of Balfor’s decision to accept her punishment. She couldn’t really blame him. He’d also been placed in a position he clearly took no pleasure from.

  He glanced at the prince. Balfor nodded and Ranove turned back to the crowd. “The concubine and her protector are free to go.”

  Without a backwards glance or a word to Stacia, Balfor turned and strode out of the arena as if his wounds were inconsequential. The duke fell in behind him. The other male umbrose in the pit—who Stacia now noted were Balfor’s chief advisors—trailed out of the arena in his wake. The last to leave was the tattooed umbrose, the one called General Gorzo. He paused for a moment to stare at Stacia. She looked up into his face and realized that it was scarred. A series of graceful curls and spiral designs in scarred flesh covered most of the skin on his face. His brow furrowed, his lips frowning slightly as if he was trying to figure something out. Then the moment passed, and Gorzo turned and followed the others out of the arena without comment.

  Slender hands pulled her to her feet and towed her out of the arena. She let them, unconcerned with who they belonged to. All she could see was Balfor’s torn and bleeding back as he walked away from her. She followed in the wake of whoever held her, the gruesome image blinding her and merging with her earlier memory of Balfor’s suffering.

  Suddenly she was back in the prince’s chambers without recalling how she got there. Then someone slapped her, hard and repeatedly, across her face.

  Chapter 17

  Stacia came to her senses and grabbed the arm of the umbrose female who was hitting her. Sari paused as Stacia’s hard grip tightened around her wrist. “You’ve got my attention. There’s no need to keep hitting me.”

  “This behavior will not do! You are dishonoring the prince’s act of protection by collapsing like you did.”

  Cheeks stinging from Sari’s none-too-gentle slaps, the real pain that assaulted Stacia was her memory of Balfor suffering every strike of the whip against his flesh. The image would live in her mind forever, like a ghost haunting every darkened corner waiting for the time to reveal itself to the terror of the one who sees it. But Sari’s harsh reprimand served its purpose. Stacia had come
back to her senses and now had to face what had happened, head-on. “What happens now?”

  Proving that she bore no anger towards Stacia, Sari brought her a chilled glass of water that sweated in the warm air of Balfor’s room and then sat beside her on the lounger and laid a comforting hand on Stacia’s where it rested on the upholstered surface. “The prince has left the palace and gone to the undertunnels, most likely to meditate in the Mother’s Heart.”

  Sitting up straighter, Stacia gripped Sari’s hand at the news. “He needs healing! He needs to see a doctor or a…,” she studied Sari’s wings and horns for a moment, “healer?” She wasn’t certain what the umbrose did for health care, but despite how healthy they seemed to be, they had to have someone who tended to their wounds. They were a barbaric race of warriors. Surely not all of their wounds healed on their own.

  “He refused the services of the healers.” Sari patted the hand that clenched hers with her other hand in a soothing manner as her words only caused Stacia to grip her tighter. “The Mother’s Heart will heal him better than any healer can.” Disentangling her hand from Stacia’s, she rose to her feet to answer the door, even though Stacia hadn’t even heard a knock. “It will take some time for him to heal within the Mother’s Heart. Give him that time. You both need it.”

  An umbrose servant entered with a small tray of food, and Sari directed the other veiled female to set it on the table and then leave. Once she’d gone, Sari turned her attention back to Stacia, who’d sat through the entire exchange between the umbrose staring at nothing as she struggled with her worry and grief. “Our prince is a hard ruler. There are some who call him tyrant. But I have never found him to be unjustly cruel. His brutality has always served a purpose. His goal has always been to protect us.” She shrugged. “Sometimes even to protect us from our own nature.”

  “Why would he do that? Why take on my punishment when he hates me for making that scene in the market?”

  “Clearly he doesn’t hate you. Why seek reassurance from me when you must know this?”

  Stacia remembered the look of rage on Balfor when she’d summoned him and berated him in front of a watching crowd of his people. “I saw his hate. I thought that he would….” She’d feared for her life, but she couldn’t voice that aloud, because in retrospect, she didn’t think he would have killed her, no matter how angry he’d been.

  Sari reclaimed her seat on the lounger beside Stacia. “Not hate, apparently. Anger, undoubtedly.” Tilting her head, she eyed Stacia from the corner of her dark eyes. “Why would you do such a thing? Do you not know the penalty for such blatant disrespect of the prince? Even if he weren’t angry at your actions, you put him in a position where he had no choice but to demand punishment.”

  “I did know that there were consequences. I just…,” she sighed, feeling the exhalation deflate her until she sagged against the lounger. “I was so hurt and angry that I wasn’t thinking straight. When Lilith told me about his other concubines, it was like being shot in the chest. I felt like he’d deliberately kept their existence from me. He’d betrayed me. The hurt was so bad that I just wanted to wound him in return.”

  Sari nodded sagely. “Ah, this thing you humans do, this jealousy. Lilith has explained this to me more than once. It is strange to think of feeling so possessive of one male that you will not share his protection with your sisters.”

  “I’m not usually like that. Most of my relationships with men have been casual flings. I didn’t even want to get into a relationship with him in the first place. This whole concubine thing came about unexpectedly and I was panicking about it at first.” She studied her hands, folded in her lap. “I never expected to feel the way I do about him now.” Biting back the sob that threatened, she blinked away the tears building in her eyes.

  “So much emotion over a protector?” Sari made a huffing noise. “I cannot imagine behaving so insanely over a male.”

  Despite her misery, Stacia couldn’t help the small smile that tilted her lips. Sari was only recently out of the nest and since she was still considered very young, she had not been claimed yet by a protector. Lilith had told Stacia that she suspected Duke Ranove, Sari’s father, had a lot to do with chasing away interested males. She squared her shoulders and faced Sari with chin lifted. “I just want to fix this! I want to make sure he’s okay, and I need to apologize. Tell me how to make it right. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  *****

  Though she had no useful advice other than for Stacia to be patient and let Balfor come to her, Sari stayed with Stacia for a couple of hours, sitting with her and sharing her lunch, which was good because Stacia had no appetite, and her stomach still ached from the morning’s events. Eventually, Sari’s forced attempts at casual conversation, avoiding any of the subjects that bothered Stacia, began to grate because she wanted to be alone to think.

  What she really wanted was to find a way down to the undertunnels so she could see Balfor for herself and alleviate the fear that he’d simply disappeared out of her life forever as easily as he disappeared into the shadows. She wanted to go to him and beg him for forgiveness for her behavior. She wanted to tend to his wounds and provide him comfort. She wanted to make love to him to reassure them both that what existed between them was worth the challenge of working through this. She wanted to tell him she loved him, but at the same time, she wanted to keep it to herself, too afraid of being even more vulnerable to him. The knowledge that other concubines waited in the wings for him to grow tired of her remained a splinter in the much larger wound she now had. She wasn’t certain she could live with him keeping other females, but she was even less certain she could live without him in her life at all.

  More hours passed in silence after Sari left. No one else came to see Stacia and distract her from her dour thoughts. Lilith was being confined to her chamber for a week as part of her punishment, and would not be allowed to see Stacia until after her confinement, which only made her feel lonelier and guiltier. There wasn’t even a comm-link for them to communicate.

  When Stacia summoned for dinner, Isara was the one to bring her meal. Though the umbrose was evasive, Stacia could tell that none of the servants had wanted to come near her. Even though shunning her might offend the prince, they were apparently doing it anyway. Since Balfor was still in the undertunnels and reportedly not responding to any summons, perhaps they felt they could get away with it.

  She briefly considered trying to summon him. If nothing else, she wanted to get the confrontation that would happen between them over with. She then thought better of it. She’d abused the privilege of being able to call him to her side. She would let him cool off before she reminded him of that.

  Her determination to give him time faltered as a day passed in isolation, with only Sari and Isara to provide the occasional company. Even with the two alien females laboring to fill the time with neutral conversation, the hours stretched from one interminable day to the next, with no sign of Balfor.

  As the third day passed, Stacia’s worry was starting to reflect in the faces of her companions. By the fourth day, Sari brought the news that Balfor had gone primal and was being confined to the undertunnels. Whatever that meant, Sari was extremely upset about it, which shot fear through Stacia. Something had gone terribly wrong.

  Chapter 18

  Stacia’s friends were too devastated by the news that Balfor was “lost to the primal” to be any help to her. They barely answered her demands for more information, telling her only that he was too dangerous now for anyone but one of the males to approach, and even then, he might kill whoever dared. Ranove—the second strongest male to Balfor—did not want to approach him immediately, which only spoke to how bad Balfor had become as Stacia hadn’t thought anything could intimidate Lilith’s mate.

  It was difficult for her to imagine this condition the females spoke of in such hushed tones. Apparently, only males ever went primal. For some reason, females were not susceptible to the loss of control and higher reasoni
ng functions that it seemed to involve. This meant her friends couldn’t really explain what it meant, other than that a male who went primal was dangerous to everyone, even those he cared about.

  According to Sari, the primal was usually set off by severe emotional or physical trauma. Knowing that this was all her fault, Stacia sought for a way to fix things. Balfor would never have lost control if he hadn’t had to endure the suffering and pain of the punishment that her outburst had brought upon her.

  She’d been told there was no external cure for the primal. It was an internal battle that each male umbrose had to fight in order to bring their primitive nature under control. The problem was, sometimes, they didn’t want to fight it, and that meant they would never return to themselves, remaining a feral beast for the rest of their incredibly long life-spans. As another day passed, and her companions brought no good news, she feared that Balfor would become one of those lost forever.

  Desperate, she tried to summon him. She whispered his name at first, fearing his reaction when he would first appear. When nothing happened after repeating his name louder and louder, she finally shouted it. For hours she cried out his name until her voice was hoarse.

  *****

  Stacia felt like she was going insane with worry and cabin-fever by the fifth day of Balfor’s absence. Though she hadn’t been technically confined, like Lilith was, she had no desire to go out into Sanctuary to face all the condemning stares of the umbrose or their deliberate shunning. They all knew why Balfor had gone primal.

  When Sari appeared at her door with her lunch tray, Stacia was working through her katas, because it had become the only thing that could calm her mind. Sari stopped in the doorway and stared, holding the heavy tray of food as if she’d forgotten about it. Stacia felt her startled gaze, but finished out the kata she’d been in the middle of before she turned her full attention to Sari.