“Come.”
She shuddered at the memory the word and the deep timbre of Constantin’s voice evoked. Slowly she opened the door of his chambers.
The former gladiator was sitting on the bed. When he saw her he rose immediately and crossed the room to the doorway. Rhapsody swallowed nervously, observing the speed with which he moved; it was small wonder he had been lethal in the arena. He interposed himself between her and the rest of the room, filling the doorway and staring piercingly at her.
“What do you want?” he asked harshly.
Rhapsody smiled, hoping to defuse the suspicious, hostile tone. “I have something that I believe is yours.”
His eyes narrowed. “I don’t think so.” Rhapsody could tell by the look on his face that he had had his conversation with the Lord Rowan.
“Well, I won’t bother you for long, then,” she said breezily. “May I come in?”
Constantin stared down at her for a moment, then held the door open, standing out of the way. Rhapsody walked under his arm and came into the room. It was similar to the rooms of the other children, but without any decoration or colorful appointments; in fact, it looked much like her own, only the bed and furniture were much bigger.
She sat down on the room’s only chair. Constantin looked hard at her, and then dropped his eyes, smiling to himself. He watched under his eyelids as she reached into the small bag she was holding. Rhapsody pulled out the silver chain she had found in his chambers, and held it out to him.
“Does this belong to you?”
Constantin’s eyes widened in shock, and a look of panic crossed his face. Then, as quickly as it had come, the look was gone, replaced by the familiar stare.
“Where did you get it?”
“I found it in your room that night.”
His face began to blacken with anger. “And now you have come to ransom it back.”
Rhapsody’s mouth opened in surprise. “No, I thought—”
“Of course, I am without anything of value to pay for it here,” he said, his muscles coiling under the tension of self-control. He backed away from her. Rhapsody regarded him with sympathy. She knew what he felt was violent, and she could see him struggling to keep it in check.
“You don’t understand,” she said quickly. “I brought this to give it back to you.”
Constantin regarded her suspiciously. “What is the value in that to you?”
Rhapsody’s brow furrowed. “None; why should there be any? If this belongs to you, Constantin, you’re entitled to it. You don’t have to fight for what is yours here, this is not Sorbold.”
“Then why did you steal it in the first place?”
Rhapsody swallowed the insult. “I didn’t steal it,” she said as gently as she could. “I brought it because I thought it might be special to you. I had no intention of ever returning you to that gladiatorial complex, so I thought it best to get what you might need or want to have while I could.” She rose and crossed to where he stood, took his hand and placed the chain in it, then closed his fingers around it.
Constantin looked down at the trinket in his hand. His eyes lost some of the intensity of the moment before, which was replaced by a deeper, more complex expression. He stared at the necklace for several moments, then looked back up at Rhapsody.
“Thank you,” he said. His voice was uncharacteristically quiet.
She nodded. “You’re welcome. I’ll get out of your way now.” She turned and opened the door.
“You’re right,” he said quickly; she turned to face him in surprise, having thought the conversation finished.
“About what?”
He looked down for a moment. “This is something I need and want to have.” It was the closest he had ever come to initiating a conversation; Rhapsody could tell instinctively that he wanted it to continue. She closed the door, folded her arms and leaned back against it.
“Was it a gift from someone special?”
Constantin stared at her; she was becoming more used to the unsettling look. Then he went to the bed and sat down.
“Yes,” he said. “My mother.”
It took a moment before Rhapsody realized her mouth was open; she closed it abruptly. “You knew your mother?”
The gladiator shook his head; the sunlight that filtered through the window caught his white-blond hair and made it burn golden for an instant. “No. All I have is a fragment of a memory, one that I’m not even certain is real.”
She came to the bed and sat down beside him; he did not move or tense as she thought he might if her closeness was unwelcome. “What is it, if you don’t mind my asking?”
Constantin ran the necklace through his fingers; it gleamed in the sunlight as well. “Just the image of a woman with love in her eyes and a gift.”
Rhapsody own eyes stung at his words. She patted his shoulder. It was meant to be a gesture of sympathy, but it made the gladiator jump away, cringing. Rhapsody’s face froze in alarm.
“I’m very sorry,” she stammered. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” She rose hastily and hurried to the door again.
“Rhapsody, wait.” Constantin stood and came to her, stopping a few feet away. She looked down at the floor; the last thing she wanted was to agitate him further. “You didn’t upset me. I’m trying not to hurt or frighten you again.”
Rhapsody met his glance; his eyes were gleaming with blue intensity, but with none of the ferocity they had held the night she had stolen him from Sorbold. Perhaps even just the slight amount of demonic blood that had been removed from him had made him more human.
“Constantin, whatever happened in Sorbold was my fault alone. The plan was stupid and ill considered, and any reaction you had was due to my miscalculation. I ask your forgiveness, and I hope you understand that no matter how callous or manipulative it seemed, I really was trying to help you.”
Constantin nodded. “I’ve noticed that you often seem to feel compelled to do that.” The depth of his voice made him seem much older than his years. “I think that’s why it’s so hard for me to be in the same room with you.”
“If my presence is disturbing, I’ll try to avoid—”
“It’s not,” he interrupted. “It’s more, well, distracting.” He looked out the window; as the sunset grew rosier, his voice became softer. “I guess I have just never known a truly gentle person before. I don’t know how to behave around you.”
Rhapsody laughed. “There are quite a few people in this world who would find your description of me amusing. And you’re doing fine, really.”
“It’s a struggle,” he said. The words seemed to surprise him a moment later, having slipped out easily. “The necklace is not the only thing I need and want to have.” He averted his eyes as the color of the sunset came over his face.
Rhapsody’s throat tightened, and heat coursed through her. Unconsciously her hand went to her throat. It came to rest on the locket she always wore. A thought came to her, and she carefully opened the clasp and removed the necklace. When Constantin worked up the courage to look back at her she held it up for him to see.
“I guess we have something in common,” she said. “This is all I have left of my mother, too.” The tears that had crept into her eyes welled again.
“Do you dream of her?”
Rhapsody turned away. “Not anymore,” she said sadly. “I used to, but now she never comes to me in my dreams. I cannot see her face.”
“I dream of my mother every night,” said Constantin. “I have no idea if she was anything like what she seems in my dreams.”
“How does she seem?”
“Kind. I suppose that proves it’s just a dream and not a memory.” He sat back down on the bed.
“Why?”
The gladiator looked up at her and smiled ironically. “Obviously you don’t believe in family traits.”
Rhapsody moved back a little to get a better look at him. “Are you saying you are unkind?” The gladiator’s laughter caught her off-guard and she jump
ed. She waited until he stopped, then looked at him seriously. “I wasn’t joking.”
Constantin’s face lost its smile. “Yes; it should be obvious even to you that kindness and I haven’t been formally introduced.” He looked away. “I have seen it from afar, however, though perhaps only once.”
Rhapsody looked down at her hands. “Perhaps you and kindness are better friends than you think.” She could feel his eyes stare at her questioningly, and she struggled to keep from turning warm under his gaze, but she was unsuccessful; the blood rushed to her face, stinging her cheeks as they reddened. Awkwardly she sat down in the chair again.
“Would you care to explain what you are talking about?”
“You could have hurt me that night if you had wanted to,” she said, staring at the calluses on her fingers. “I know you were moved by my fear; I saw the cruelty dim in your eyes. Despite what your world has been, you have maintained some compassion, even if it is just a seed.” Her words sounded vaguely familiar to her; she thought back to the night Ashe had first come to her in Elysian.
I love that you have survived the cataclysm of your whole world, and have lived among monsters, and still always attribute honorable intentions to people.
Constantin smiled ruefully. “You’re wrong, Rhapsody. I had no intention of letting you go that night. I would have hurt you, and enjoyed doing so. You don’t know me very well.”
Rhapsody finally found the courage to look into his eyes. “Perhaps. And perhaps I know you better than you think. Do you still want to hurt me?”
The gladiator stood suddenly and crossed to the farthest corner of the room. “Perhaps it is best if you go now.”
“As you wish.” Rhapsody rose as well, and went to the door. She turned and looked at his back, the muscles coiled like a spring. “I’m not afraid of you, Constantin.”
“You’re also not very bright, I’m sorry to say.”
She laughed. “Well, there’s no denying the truth in that, but in fact I have seen far crueler men than you; I’ve suffered much worse atrocities at their hands than anything you could ever have inflicted on me. I can tell the difference between a warped spirit and an evil one. Your soul is twisted, Constantin, not rotten. It just needs some time to stretch and some sunlight to purify it again. You’ll be good as new in no time.”
Constantin stared out the window. “If I live through the torture.”
Rhapsody let go of the door handle. “Torture?”
He looked at her again with the same intense stare. “Don’t play the fool. You brought me here; you must know what they do.”
She came to him then, and turned him to face her, leaving her hands resting on his arms. “Do you mean what happened last night?”
He tried to pull away. “Of course.”
Rhapsody sighed. “I’m very sorry about that. And though I wish you never had to endure the procedure again, I can promise you that you will never again feel the pain. From now on it will be painless.”
“Why are they doing this? I have been bled before, but never from the heart.”
She took his hand and led him back to the bed, then sat in the chair facing him. Slowly and meticulously she explained about his origins, about the F’dor and the Rakshas, and the program of systematic rape they had undertaken. Constantin’s stoic face turned stony as she spoke, but his eyes began to gleam in a way that made Rhapsody wish she had left the tale to the Lord Rowan.
Finally she told him of the rescue of the children of the demon, and the plan to spare them damnation by separating out the blood of their father and using it to find the F’dor. When she was finished he regarded her seriously again.
“And you have no idea who my mother was?”
“No.” She detected a slight falling of his face. “I wish I did, Constantin; but you see, she was an innocent victim. It’s entirely possible that she was the woman you dream of, someone who loved you very much, despite everything she—everything she endured in having you.”
Constantin looked back out the window into the darkness; night had come into its fullness while they had talked, and now the quiet glen was blanketed in darkness. “Somehow, as unlikely as all that seems, I believe you.”
She patted his hand. “I wish I could make it better for you. I once believed I had the power to do that.”
“And what made you decide that you didn’t?”
Rhapsody let her breath out slowly. “The death of my sister. She was a friend, actually. She was the first person in this land I tried to help, and it killed her. If I had left her on her own, in her life as it was, on the street, she’d be alive now.”
The gladiator turned to look at her. “How do you know that?” Rhapsody blinked. “Street rats die every day; in Sorbold I put a number of them to the sword myself, just for getting in my way. Stop punishing yourself for trying, Rhapsody; at least you made the effort. In the end, that’s more than most people bother to do.”
“What about you? Do you forgive me for the pain I’ve caused you by trying to save you? Are you willing to clean up the mess my good intentions have made?”
Constantin sighed. “Rhapsody, no one has ever tried to help me in my entire life. I don’t have the ability to comprehend why you did, let alone express how I feel about it. If you’re referring to the fact that my hands can’t stop trembling around you, that you are growing less safe each second you remain here, that’s my problem to solve.
“It’s far more important to me, now that the Lord Rowan and I have discussed my future, that I keep from causing you any pain. It’s a terrible dilemma; I feel as if I would be better off to never see you again, because that is the only way I can keep from wanting you. But at the same time I need you, if only just to talk to; there really is no one else here. Perhaps you had best forget me and let me sort it out alone. But one thing I can assure you of: I am far better off than I would have been if you had not tried to help. Eternal damnation may be a fate I deserve, but I’d like to avoid it just the same.”
“Whatever else should happen, I can promise you that I will never forget you, Constantin.” Rhapsody wished she could embrace him; it was what she felt moved to do, but she couldn’t allow herself to frustrate him any further. The genesis of their relationship had been sex; despite her better judgment she had incited him into wanting her, and the impulse had not faded. It stood between them like a locked door, and would until it was resolved.
She thought about giving in to it. She had done it before, had slept with men she didn’t know or even hated, with far less reason to. She could give herself to Constantin; it would facilitate the healing that was needed to right things between them.
The thought squeezed her heart like a vise, making her choke up. Ashe’s face appeared before her in her memory, smiling at her in a way she did not remember ever seeing. But Ashe was no longer her lover; he would belong to another soon. It was time to drive him out of her heart forever.
A sudden thought occurred to her. “Constantin, I have to go get something. I’ll be right back.” He watched in surprise as she leapt from the chair and ran to the door, disappearing into the moonlit shadows of the forest.
41
She returned a short while later, her arms filled with scented candles, her lute slung across her back. Constantin opened the door and caught some of the tapers as they fell from her overfull grasp. They had been a gift from the Lady Rowan the night before. Something to improve your dreams, she had said. Rhapsody had lit a few of the pastel-hued candles before falling asleep, and found that her dreams were sweet and free of nightmares, much as they had been when she slept in Ashe’s arms, or with Elynsynos in her cave. In addition, the dreams she had of home were intense in their clarity, and left her, upon waking, with the sensation of having actually visited with the family members of whom she had been dreaming. She had seen and embraced her father, all of her brothers, and many of her friends, but her mother had eluded her; she had wandered the fields of her homeland, searching for her in vain.
&n
bsp; “There is already sufficient light in here from the moon,” Constantin said as she began setting the candles on the nightstand.
“These are not for light; they’re for your dreams,” Rhapsody said. She touched the tallest of the tapers and watched as it sparked to life. When she had lit them all she turned to see the gladiator staring at her in the soft glow of the candlelight. “The Lady Rowan is called Yl Breudiwyr, the Keeper of Dreams, the Guardian of Sleep. Under her eye, the dreams you have in this realm can seem more real than they normally do. Back in the other world, they are only fragmented visions of what happens in this realm. Here it’s as if you are actually experiencing what you’re dreaming about.”
“So what are the candles for?”
Rhapsody smiled. “I don’t know what she makes them of, but they should help make the reunion an almost-tangible one.”
“Reunion?”
“Yes, didn’t you say you dream every night of your mother?”
Concern, and deeper emotions, filled Constantin’s face. “Among other things.”
“Well, these candles seem to hold the unpleasant dreams at bay, while bringing out the ones in which your heart speaks. If you will allow me, I’ll play my lute to lull you to sleep, and keep playing to help encourage the dream to stay for a while. I can make the candles burn longer than they normally would, and that would give you more time with her.
“My mentor used to say that memories were your first lore, the strongest you would ever know, because you wrote them yourself. Only you have this memory, the memory of your mother. Working together, we may be able to bring her here, if only for a few moments.”
The piercing glance was back. “You would do that for me?”
“Only if you want me to. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable in any way.”
Constantin smiled. “I’m honored,” he said in his deep voice. “And it isn’t me that is likely to be uncomfortable.”
The gladiator had been asleep for more than an hour; the candles were burning brightly, but still Rhapsody saw no sign that he was dreaming. He lay in the massive bed curled on his side, snoring intermittently.