Beneath a Midnight Moon - By Amanda Ashley Page 0,78
sons, for his father and mother. He prayed that Argone would not go to war because of him, that the tenuous peace between Argone and Mouldour, the first in over ten years, would not be broken, even though he knew it would not last indefinitely. It was merely a moment of serenity before the tempest that was sure to follow, a chance for both sides to regroup before the next assault.
Kylene . . . hear me . . . know that I love you . . . that I will love you with my last dying breath . . . and through all the endless days and nights of eternity . . .
He willed the words across the miles that separated them and then, with her name on his lips, he closed his eyes and surrendered to the awful weariness that engulfed him.
Kylene sat up in bed, Hardane’s voice ringing in her ears. Hear me . . . know that I love you . . .
Tears flooded her eyes as the sound of his beloved voice filled her mind. He was still alive!
Slipping out of bed, she dropped to her knees and offered a fervent prayer to God, thanking Him again and again that her husband still lived, begging for a miracle to save Hardane.
She was still praying when there came a knock at the door and she heard Lord Kray’s voice.
Rising, she opened the door to find Lord Kray and Sharilyn standing in the corridor.
“You’ve had news?” Kylene remarked. Bad news, she thought, judging from the redness of Sharilyn’s eyes, the bleak expression on Lord Kray’s face.
“We know what the Interrogator wants now.” Lord Kray’s voice was as solemn as his countenance.
He had not intended to tell Kylene of the Interrogator’s message, but Sharilyn had insisted that Hardane’s wife had every right to know of the Interrogator’s commands.
“It’s you, child,” Kray went on heavily. “He’s discovered Hardane’s true identity, and he demands your presence at the Fortress.”
Lord Kray paused, and for the first time Kylene noticed how pale he was. For a moment, he stared at the floor, as if gathering his strength.
“Yes, child,” Kray replied, his voice grave. “Should you refuse to do as he says, he has promised to send Hardane back to Argone. A piece at a time.”
Kylene stared at her father-in-law, unable to speak as the horror of what the Interrogator threatened unraveled in her mind. For a moment, the room spun out of focus and she stumbled backward, a low moan rising in her throat until it burst forth in a scream of denial.
Immediately, Lord Kray gathered her into his arms and held her close. In vain, he tried to think of some words of comfort, of hope, but none came to mind.
“I’ll leave at once,” Kylene said, and though the mere idea of returning to the Fortress filled her with dread, she knew she would do anything within her power to help Hardane.
“I can’t let you go,” Kray said, his voice firm. “Hardane would never forgive me if anything happened to you.”
“I’ve got to go.”
Kray shook his head. “No, Kylene. Think of the prophesy.”
“I don’t care about the prophesy,” Kylene exclaimed, twisting out of his arms.
“He’s bluffing,” Kray said, running a hand through his hair. “He’s got to be bluffing. Even the Interrogator wouldn’t dare execute a man of Hardane’s station.”
“He will,” Sharilyn replied quietly. “You know he will, Kray. He’ll do anything to assure that Bourke retains the throne.”
“We can’t let her go,” Kray said, his voice thick with anguish. “She carries the promise of lasting peace within her womb.”
“What do I care if there’s peace in Argone if Hardane is not here to see it!” Kylene exclaimed angrily.
“Think of what you’re saying,” Kray urged. “Would you put the lives of your children at risk?”
“Yes, and my own as well. I can’t let him die. I can’t. I won’t.”
“Your sons will rule the thrones of Argone and Mouldour. Under their leadership, both lands will prosper.”
“I don’t care!”
“I forbid it!” Kray shouted. “Do you hear me? I forbid it!”
“Kray . . .” Sharilyn spoke slowly and deliberately. “You can’t mean to let our son die.”
“Do you think this is a decision that’s easy for me? But you know the Interrogator’s reputation! He’ll kill them both to assure that Bourke holds the throne.”
“I’m going,” Kylene said. Squaring her shoulders, she lifted her chin defiantly. “It’s my life, and my decision, and I’m going.”