Ezra heard the voice calling his name but he couldn’t place it so it didn’t concern him overmuch. Sunlight was warm on his face and the bed was soft under his back…had he overslept? Well, he had had a long ride…

Long ride? Ah yes, he’d been riding home, that was it. Images rolled through his waking mind of trees flashing past, the horse’s hooves thundering along the path and through the open gate, the lowering sky and the silent fountain, and beside the fountain the reason he’d been hurrying back in the first place…lying cold and still and…

“BEAST!” The howl of loss tore itself out of his body and left a consuming empty agony in its wake. Someone’s hands pushed him back down into the feather mattress and pillows but he ignored them, his mind only able to take in the fact that his beloved Beast was dead because he hadn’t kept his promise. Another scream of pain and denial welled up inside him but the first had stolen his breath and his strength and it escaped as a hurt whimper. “Beast…”

“Ezra!” The unfamiliar voice was calling him again, and the desperation in it finally penetrated his consciousness. “Ezra, I’m right here! Please come back to me, don’t leave me again.”

Leave? The voice was wrong, but the words, the tone… “B-beast?”

“I was.” A gentle hand caressed his cheek. “Just a man again now, thanks to you. Why don’t you open your eyes and see if you approve?”

There was more than a hint of trepidation in the request and Ezra’s brow furrowed. His Beast was now a man? That didn’t make sense…or could that be why his voice was so different? Only one way to find out, he supposed. He blinked, and blinked again…and found himself looking up into the familiar blue-green eyes. Something that had been tight and empty inside his chest loosened and filled with warmth. “Not dead?”

“Not dead, my love.” The strange new face that surrounded those familiar eyes had blond hair and looked to be perhaps a decade older than Ezra, and his sensuous lips were quirked up in a relieved smile that revealed strong, even white teeth. “You broke the curse that kept me imprisoned in the form of a beast when you said you loved me.” He picked up the hand lying nearest him and raised it to his lips. “I love you too, Ezra.”

Ezra tried to sit up and was surprised by the pain that shot through his body at the movement. “What…”

“Someone hurt you,” the man who’d replaced his Beast said in a low voice, long-fingered hands pushing him down again, one of them trailing down his chest to pat gently at a white bandage low on his ribcage. “They tried to stop you coming back to me.”

Memory returned and Ezra paled and nodded, swallowing. “Yes.”

The handsome face twisted with remorse. “I’m sorry I doubted you, my love. When you didn’t return like you’d promised…”

“They took my medallion, hid it,” Ezra said, closing his eyes against the pain of that recollection. “I had a dream that night, I saw you, the dead garden…and you said I’d broken my promise and then you d-died.” A tear slipped out and trailed down his pale cheek. “I found the medallion in the box that held my dueling pistols and I just grabbed it and ran for the stable. I heard them yelling, my father and brothers, and then…”

“And then one of them shot you in the back with a pistol,” the Beast rumbled, a hint of the earlier thunder coming back into his voice. A gentle finger caught the next tear that fell from the surprise-widened eyes, stopping it before it could follow the first, and then an equally gentle hand patted his cheek. “And still you rode all the way back to the castle to save me, and almost lost your own life doing so. The depth of your devotion humbles me, my love, my Ezra.”

Ezra covered that strong hand with his own and cradled it, blinking to look up at the other man. “Nothing compared to yours, my Beast.” He frowned suddenly. “No, you are not a Beast any longer; what…what shall I call you now, my lord?”

A smile. “My name of old was Christopher, Lord Larabee, and I’m afraid it has come again. You may call me Chris, if you like, and I dare say the courtiers will all expect you to.”

Jade eyes widened again. “C-courtiers?”

Chris shook his head. “They’re all visible now, unfortunately, and all hell-bent on doing their jobs to their irritating best now that the curse is broken. They’ve completely convinced themselves that you must be some noble’s adventurous younger son, by the way, so I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to being ‘m’lorded’ everywhere you go – telling them to stop doesn’t do any good.” He sighed. “I know, I’ve tried.”

The despondent tone and little-boy look drew forth Ezra’s own dimpled smile. “Then I suppose we will both have to suffer…Chris.”

Chris lifted the hand he was holding to his lips again. “I like the way you say my name.”

“Then I shall endeavor to say it as often as possible, Chris,” Ezra replied, and felt a thrill run through him at the way those turquoise eyes darkened with something wild and full of promise, and at the memory of the dream-lover who was now before him in the waking world. He wanted to sit up, to put his arms around his love…but his body would not obey his wishes and he had to content himself with continuing to weakly grasp Chris’ hand in his own. “If only I did not feel so tired right now...”

A shadow clouded his love’s eyes. “You nearly died, Ezra,” Chris told him, patting the bandage again gently. “I’ve been so afraid I was going to lose you…before I even really had you.”

“You have had my heart for quite some time.” Ezra smiled and blinked his sagging eyelids back open. “I just…allowed fear to freeze my tongue until it was almost too late.”

The older man smiled back. “I think your timing was just about perfect,” he corrected, his hand drifting up from the bandages to caress bare skin, reveling in the silken feel of it beneath his fingers in a way he’d never thought to experience again. “I think you’re just about perfect, as a matter of fact, and I don’t ever want to be parted from you again. Would you…would you consent to become my consort, Ezra?”

“Your…consort?” Ezra was confused. “But I…I’m not…I can’t…”

Chris looked worried for a moment, and then understanding dawned and he laughed. “Oh no, I’m not worried about providing my holdings with an heir at the moment.” He leaned forward and very gently kissed the younger man’s soft lips, drinking in his small gasp of surprise like a fine wine. “I would marry you if I could, Ezra,” he murmured warmly. “But as that isn’t possible I’m afraid consort is the only official title open to us. And as my consort you’ll have rank and authority second only to mine and I’ll be able to keep you by my side wherever I go. Please say yes.”

Ezra blinked up at him and mouthed the word soundlessly, then allowed his eyes to flutter shut in contentment when his lips were captured in another tender, loving kiss, the warmth of which followed him back down into the healing darkness.

Word soon spread throughout the land that their rightful lord had returned to oversee his holdings and a celebration was proclaimed which all were invited to attend, and so when the appointed time came the newly-broad forest road was filled with people dressed in their finest clothes walking or riding to the castle few if any could remember seeing before. Not attending was not an option, of course, and so in spite of his grief over the loss of his son Josiah and his remaining family set out with the others to see this new lord, Lord Larabee, and accept his hospitality.

Josiah was silent for most of the journey, as was Nathan who had been set to drive the wagon, but Jaedee and Vin were less subdued and deluged Buck with questions as he rode alongside the wagon on his horse. When his eldest son rode ahead to speak with some of the other travelers – some of whom had daughters with them, Josiah noted out of habit – the father roused himself enough to take over the answering of the endless questions that came from the little boy in his lap. “What kind of flowers are those, the ones that line the road? The red and white ones?” Jaedee wanted to know. “I’ve never seen flowers like that, Father.”

Josiah looked over the side of the wagon to see and found himself puzzled. “I don’t know, son,” he said with a frown. He set his youngest off his lap and thumped the back of the wagon seat to get his older son’s attention. “Nathan, slow down a moment.” The wagon slowed, and Josiah swung Vin over the side to retrieve some of the flowers; the boy paused over picking them, his head cocked as though listening to something, but he quickly returned to the wagon and clambered back up into it to hand his father the blossoms. Josiah took them with a frown, turning them around in one hand while he thumped the seat again with the other to set the wagon back in pace. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen the like,” he said slowly. The white petals were cool and fragile as a fly’s wing and seemed to shimmer in the sunlight; the red held the same liquid shimmer, but they were heavier and smooth and held the sun’s warmth. Both were already wilting in his hand, shriveling down into nothingness and at the same time leaving faint streaks of red and white to tingle on his fingers; bringing his fingers to his lips to taste the residue proved a mistake, however, as the streaks tasted eerily of salt and blood. He quickly discarded the shriveled blossoms over the side of the wagon. “No, they are no flower I have ever seen.”

“They mark the new road only,” Vin said quietly. “They are born of magick; love and sorrow put them there, and sacrifice.”

Josiah started to ask his adopted son how he knew such a thing but decided it might be better not to know. A more curious, less fearful part of him wondered what else Vin might know if he were only asked, but fear won and sealed his lips. “As good an explanation as any,” he said instead. “Perhaps this new lord has a gardener who might know what manner of flowers they are, if I see such a person I will be sure to ask him.”

Vin shook his head but did not offer aught else, something for which Josiah was at once grateful and shamed. His two youngest sons were often silent now where once they had been bursting with questions and laughter; indeed, Jaedee had spoken more on this trip than he had in a month, perhaps more. Guilt was heavy on Josiah for that, among many other things. The fault of a blind man is that he does not see, he thought to himself, and mused darkly on the cost of his own willful blindness to his beloved family.

The truth in all its ugliness had come out that night a month ago, after Buck had wrested the still-smoking pistol from Nathan’s hand and Vin had run on bare feet to hide himself in the woods. Jaedee had been caught by Josiah before he could follow but had refused to talk to his father, and it was not until Buck had secured Nathan – none too gently – in the barn by means of a stout rope and carried his youngest brother into the house that the little boy had sobbed out his tale. Buck had soothed him despite his own visible anger, then had ventured out again into the night and brought back Vin; Josiah’s offer to fetch the boy himself had been met with silent disdain. The eldest son would not speak what he was thinking aloud, but his blue eyes held a knowing in them now when he looked on his father that Josiah wished he could cringe away from. Only once had Buck’s thoughts found words on the subject, and that had been after all the able-bodied men in the village had been rousted to search the woods for Ezra. The eldest son’s dark blue eyes had met his father’s faded ones with a hardness Josiah had thought foreign to Buck’s easy-going nature as he slumped before the hearth fire and all but spat, “We found a trail marked with blood, but it disappeared even as we tried to follow it. Perhaps the bewitchment that called to him is more merciful than we are, and Ezra has joined his Beast in death.”

Death. His middle son was dead. A clump of the strange flowers caught his eye. Sacrifice, Vin had said. Had Ezra sacrificed himself, driven by the enchantment laid on him by the Beast? Or had he been driven to his death by Josiah’s blindness? What sort of father had he been, to sit silent while one son impugned the honor of another who had given himself up to satisfy a debt not his own? Who had begged mercy of his monstrous captor and been granted it to come to his family’s aid on the strength only of his own promise to return to captivity? Josiah had had a dream the night of Ezra’s death, a dream wherein he stood in the shadows of a marble hall he only just remembered from one year past. And as he had stood there, wondering at finding himself in the castle again, a voice called out – his dead son’s voice, calling out for the Beast. Ezra had come flying down the broad marble steps and the Black Beast had appeared in the hall, apparently in answer to the frantic summons; Josiah’s heart had all but stopped when Ezra had thrown himself into the monster’s arms, and then it had broken all but in two when his son had dropped to his knees begging to be allowed to save his brother’s life. And the Beast had allowed it, and watched at the window as Ezra rode away…but then the monster had turned and looked right at Josiah and a snarl had split the tusked muzzle to reveal sharp and deadly ivory. Thunder rumbled, and the bright hall fell into gloom and ruin around them. “Again you seek to steal from me, old man,” the Beast had growled, and held forth one massive clawed paw in which lay a white rose, dripping with blood. “And see what your greed has wrought.”

Josiah had awoken from his dream cold, and though the dream had not returned the cold had yet to leave him. He thought perhaps it might be a curse, sent by the Beast in payment for Ezra’s death, and such was the weight of guilt on him that he suffered it as such with the silence of one who knows his punishment to be full well deserved. Not that there remained any that he might tell, for Buck avoided speech with him save for the most mundane and necessary conversation and his neighbors maintained a distance born of uncertainty – from Nathan as well as himself.

A frown creased Josiah’s brow at that thought. The day after the fruitless search for Ezra, several men of the village who had managed to either escape or recover from the illness that had plagued the countryside came to their home to see the way of things with their own eyes. They had not entered the house to announce their business to Josiah as would have been only right and proper, but instead had gone around to the barn where Nathan was still secured in the stall that had once housed his brother’s fine horse – and for a time his brother as well. On emerging from the barn their faces had been grave and troubled, and they spoke earnestly with Buck in the yard and received some unknown assurance from him before leaving – unknown because Josiah had been too sunk in shame to ask an explanation. He himself had gone out to see Nathan the night before in hopes of finding out what had gone so wrong, suspecting that perhaps the young healer had even become afflicted with the plague himself and as such was but lost to reason for a time, but the harsh response he had received when Nathan had been presented with this theory had been sharp as a fine knife and had cut all the deeper because Josiah had been so unexpecting of it.

In spite of this, though, they had let Nathan out of the barn after two days of captivity, after men had again come from the village and again entered in to speak with him. And whatever it was they had said to the young healer on that occasion, the threat of it had obviously been enough to keep Nathan close to his home and in sullen obedience to his father and brother. Josiah knew little of what had transpired, only what small details Buck had deigned to inform him of: Nathan was no longer welcome in the village, as healer or as visitor, and he had been advised that silence would suit him better than the airing of his opinions if he wished to keep his skin intact. And in fact the young healer had hardly spoken at all over the past month unless it was demanded of him, although oftimes his face and posture betrayed his thoughts with disturbing plainness.

They were betraying him now, in the stiff line of his body as he watched the others on the road, in a twitch that meant disapproval when Jaedee laughed, as a tightening of his jaw when he dipped his head in response to Buck’s warning frown. Josiah could see the rebellion in him but did not know what to do about it, although he was all too aware that something should be done and the responsibility for such an action had to be his own. And the cold within him pierced him with a sharp pain even as he thought that taking no action seemed to be all he could yet do.

It was midday when they came to the wide-opened gates that allowed all and sundry entry into their new lord’s park grounds, but it was not until they had rounded a bend of the road and come into full view of the castle that Josiah thought he knew the place they had come to. “The palace of the Beast…” he murmured. “By all that’s unholy, it can be none other than the lair of the monster himself.”

It was a thought he could not let go of, and so soon as they had secured the wagon and settled the horses Josiah led his family through the thronging people and away from the festivities, bringing them around the side of the castle to a set of broad stone steps that led up to the main doors. Buck moved to stop his father, however, when the older man gave every sign of preparing to ascend those stairs. “We should not be here,” he said in a firm voice. “The festival…”

“This is the place,” Josiah interrupted, as though he had not even heard his son’s objection. “See, these are the very steps beside which I sheltered my horse that stormy night, and there is the rose bush where my folly began. Do not touch them, as you value our lives,” he warned, but his eyes were on the massive oaken doors at the top of the stairs. “The Beast…he may still be within.”

Buck tried again to reason with him, pulling his father back as Josiah made to approach the doors. “It is the new lord who is within, did you not hear the talk as we passed through the crowd? He addressed them just before we arrived, and promised good faith between himself and those of us who look to him. He had his servants about him, and the lordling who is said to be his companion at his side, but no black monster.” He shook the older man’s arm. “You must be mistaken, Father; this cannot be the home of such a monster as the one who terrorized you, as if it were he should surely have shown himself by now in some violent manner with such a crowd arrived for him to prey upon. We must go back to the place allowed for us…”

Josiah jerked his arm away. “I will prove it to you,” he insisted, mounting the clean-swept stairs and laying his hand to the polished handle of the one door that stood ajar. “Come with me, I will show you the room where I spent that cursed evening; even to the fire that warmed me I know in my bones that it is still there.”

Nathan had already followed their father, and Buck with no little reluctance took his two younger brothers and followed along in their wake. Perhaps, he thought, when they were caught so blatantly trespassing by the lord’s guards within he would be able to explain his father’s actions as the result of madness…especially as the steps they ascended were flanked by two rose bushes, one white and one red, just as Josiah had described to his family one year ago. And could it be madness that led Josiah’s steps with such confidence through the wide marble hall, down a corridor just past the sweeping marble staircase and straight to a door which stood open as though in welcome? Could this truly be the castle of the magickal and hideous Black Beast which had cursed his father and bewitched his brother?

Josiah had no doubt that it was as he led his family to the familiar room and then stopped. The room beyond was still as he recalled it, but it was not empty as Josiah had hoped. A tall, finely dressed man who could only be Lord Larabee was there, bending over someone ensconced in a chair who had a footstool under his booted feet, and a plump, motherly woman was hovering nearby. “You will stay right here, then, if you won’t go upstairs,” the lord was saying sternly but not without warmth. “I appreciate you wanting to fulfill your duties and remain by my side, my love, but the physician has only released you from your bed these two days past and I won’t let you overtax yourself.”

“Chris, I’m fine…”

“You are healing, but you are not fine,” the lord overrode him with a small growl. “And you’re staying right here by the fire to rest, end of discussion.”

“I’ll bring you something to eat, m’lord,” the woman offered. “Maybe some of the blackberry ice that you like so much…”

A weak laugh came from the chair. “Gloria dear, if you keep trying to feed me up like this I’ll soon be rolling down the halls instead of walking.”

It was the laugh that did it, piercing the smothering fog of Josiah’s grief and guilt with unmistakable recognition. He made a strangled, startled noise and Lord Larabee spun around with a scowl on his face. “Who dares…” Then he recognized Josiah and his scowl deepened. “Old man, I was wondering if you would come here today. If you were looking for the Black Beast then you have found him, what do you want?”

Josiah’s mouth opened but no sound came out. Ezra tugged at Chris from behind, moving him so he could see if it really was… “Father?”

“E-ezra?” Josiah took a staggering step forward. The son he had thought dead, killed by his brother’s hand, was staring up at him from the depths of the well-padded chair, his green eyes huge in his drawn white face. “You’re alive…”

“No thanks to you, old man,” Lord Larabee snapped.

“Chris,” Ezra reprimanded gently. To the surprise of Josiah and his other sons the angry lord at once turned his attention back to his still-seated companion. “Chris, we’ve discussed this. They had no way of knowing you were not the monster you appeared to be…”

“That was still no reason to shoot you,” Chris maintained, but he took the hand that was being held out to him and clasped it gently. “I cannot fault them for wanting to protect you, my love, but the careless chance they took with your life is something I will not forgive.”

“We haven’t been able to either, my lord,” Buck ventured cautiously, seeing that his father was still dumbstruck and that silence would not serve. He took the tall lord’s surprised look as permission to explain further. “We hadn’t realized how deep my brother Nathan’s jealousy ran for Ezra or how much madness it had spawned in him until that night, when he ran outside with one of Ezra’s dueling pistols in his hand screaming that it was better he die rather than escape back to a life of ease that was not his due.” He looked to his younger brother in plain apology. “I am so sorry, Ezra. I had forgotten we even had such weapons within the house, and I did not know what Nathan was about until the pistol had already been fired.”

Chris cocked an eyebrow at him. “You claim responsibility for what happened that night?”

Buck stiffened but did not deny it, nor did he avoid the lord’s hard eyes. “I knew something was wrong in the house, my lord; I had suspected all was not as it should have been for some time, but I did nothing. And in doing nothing, I allowed the cruelties that had been inflicted on my youngest brothers and almost brought about Ezra’s death.”

Josiah found his voice again when he saw the lord’s face darken; he would not allow Buck to assume the consequences for what had happened, knowing that this man who had been the Black Beast was harsh in dealing out his justice. “The fault is mine, not his, my lord,” he said heavily, and sought to explain. “Years ago the family of Nathan’s mother sent for him to come learn healing as that was the profession they had passed down to each son and daughter for many generations. He was…different when he returned and I thought it just an attitude he’d picked up from being so long in the company of people so arrogant and stiff, but now I know that the hardening of his once kind nature was due to the abuse he suffered at their hands almost unceasingly the entire time he dwelt with them; he was little more than a slave in their house.” He hung his head. “It is to my shame that I never realized how cruelly they had twisted his understanding of honor and family.”

Lord Larabee nodded once, sharply. “Shamed you should be, old man; you have two well-grown sons who prove that you know how to raise a man of honor, and yet to this one,” he gestured toward Nathan, who stood silent and scowling beside his father, “you turn a blind eye and allow him to act in any manner he chooses, even though it goes against your teachings.” He folded his arms across his chest. “By your own words you have condemned yourself and fixed the blame for all that has happened firmly on your own head. I would be well within my rights to send you away and command you never to return.”

Josiah merely hung his head, but Jaedee whimpered at the harsh threat and with a desperate wriggle freed himself from Buck’s restraining hand to dart around the tall lord and fling himself at his brother; Ezra emitted a pained grunt at the impact of the small sturdy body but his smile belied the brief pain the enthusiastic hug had inflicted. “I missed you too, Jaedee,” he said. He looked over the boy’s dark head and held out his hand in his other little brother’s direction. “Vin?”

Vin came to him at once to claim a hug of his own, but much more carefully than Jaedee had. “I knew you weren’t dead, Ezra, but I couldn’t tell anyone,” he whispered. “I went into the woods to cry and they told me you weren’t dead.”

“Those who make their home in the forest would hardly lie to a son of Herne,” Chris said, reaching down to ruffle Vin’s hair, feeling the small bumps that would someday sprout antlers such as the Horned God himself bore. He smiled at Ezra’s startled look. “I guessed, from what your father told me when first he came here and described his sons to me; it is not unknown for the Hunter to settle down for a winter by a welcoming hearth and leave a gift of himself behind come Spring ere he returns to the woods. In truth it was this one I expected to come to me because of his parentage, but I didn’t realize at the time that he was yet a child. When he grows a bit more, my best woodsman would no doubt be honored to take him on as his apprentice.”

“He should rather be given to the care of a priest, with no waiting for him to grow.” Nathan spoke for the first time. “I always knew there was something not right about him but no one would heed me, and now you say he is the bastard son of a demon!”

Gasps of horror and outrage answered his exclamation, and Ezra pulled Vin to him protectively while Gloria moved to do the same on the boy’s other side, drawing Jaedee into the embrace as well. Chris’ turquoise eyes flashed, but the rumble that erupted came not from his throat but from the ground beneath them. “This house has always honored the Horned God,” the lord said in a flat, angry voice. “Every lord of this land before me has been called to the Summerland by the sound of his horn, and the birth of every child of our blood was greeted by the appearance of one of the Eilid and an offering of its milk for the babe’s first meal, conferring both the blessing of our Lady and her Lord.” He stepped up to Nathan, who was held fast by the power of his gaze. “And even in my blackest hours, when I cursed the Lady for her curse on me and she ignored my rantings as though I were a child, I never once swore against he who had dominion over me as a Beast, nor did I break the least rule of his in my hunts. So in my house your disrespect may not go unanswered, be it born of madness or no.”

Nathan swallowed hard. “I will not break my sworn word to my father by dueling, unlike my faithless younger brother.”

Lord Larabee laughed unpleasantly. “You think I would challenge you? You are not worthy to match arms with a man of honor,” he replied, but with his dismissal came a warning. “And I would advise you to hold your tongue on the subject of your brother as well, as he is held in high regard by all within this castle and your opinion may not be answered pleasantly if you voice it.” He cast a glance at Josiah. “I will not spill the blood of your son, old man, nor will I command it done by another although to do so would be within my right,” he stated. “But he must be dealt with, and I have in my service one who I think would gladly undertake this task you have so far shirked.”

He stepped to the door and called out, informing the man who came to his summons to fetch the physician at once, and when he returned to his consort’s side Ezra shook his head at him. “You did not say what he was to be summoned for, he will most likely come at a run thinking something has happened.”

“All to the good,” Chris told him with a smile that faded quickly. “You are looking rather pale, my love, this shock can’t have been good for you.” He dropped to one knee and patted Ezra’s leg before turning his attention to the two wide-eyed boys. “You have nothing to fear from me, I am not a monster any longer.”

“Weren’t you a big black beast, though?” Jaedee piped up. When the lord nodded solemnly the little boy cocked his head in thought. “Were you soft and furry?”

Josiah and Buck both froze with fear at the childish question, but they relaxed when they saw that Ezra was holding back laughter and it appeared the servant Gloria was amused as well. Chris answered, very solemnly, “Your brother once told me he was surprised by the softness of my fur, yes. But I would much rather wear my own skin and be a man, and he has promised me he does not mind that a bit.”

“No, not a bit,” Ezra agreed. “At the very least, I am happy that he is now able to share my meals with me instead of merely bearing me company while I eat.”

“And very unpleasant company I was,” the lord laughed, shaking his head. “Jealous of every bite you took because I could not share in it.”

There was a commotion outside in the corridor and then a dark-skinned man in long robes rushed into the room and went at once to Ezra’s side, pushing everyone out of his path, his wrinkled face stern and worried. “What has happened, my lord?” he threw at the man he had just displaced. “I warned you both…”

“It wasn’t our doing,” Chris disclaimed at once, holding up his hands. “And Ezra was not the reason I summoned you.”

“From the look of him he should have been,” the man snorted, not looking up from his patient. “He has obviously suffered a severe shock in spite of the fact that he is trying to pretend he hasn’t.” He straightened all at once and frowned down at the pale man. “You are going back to your bed until tomorrow and I expect no argument about it.” Then he turned, glancing at the room’s other occupants before returning his gaze to Chris. “I am assuming it was the appearance of these others that did this to him, and the family resemblance is plain for me to see. Is the one who tried to kill him one of these?”

“That is the very reason I sent for you,” Chris told him. “The deed was done by his brother, who is also of your race and also a healer, but it appears there is a madness in him said to be brought on by his mother’s family, who trained him in his art.”

The physician’s dark eyes narrowed in thought. “It is possible – there are those of my people who apply our laws without compassion or wisdom, as there are in any culture, and I doubt that has changed during the course of our long sleep.” He walked up to Nathan and circled him, looking him up and down, then nodded. “Much makes sense to me now. When your brother first awoke and found me tending him he reacted with fear, and for a time after that he remained wary of me. You must have been the only Moor he has ever known, and a poor impression you made of it at that.” He snorted and shook his head, returning his attention to Chris. “I can retrain him, my lord, if that is what you are requesting of me. But he appears stubborn, it will take time.”

“I have every faith in you,” was his answer.

The dark-skinned man laughed. “He has faith because he knows me to be more stubborn than you could ever be,” he informed the shocked young healer. “Very well then. You are not fit to be in a sickroom as yet, so I will leave you in my study until I am done seeing to my patient. Come along, boy.”

Nathan cast a frightened, almost pleading look to his father, who only shook his head. “I do not disclaim my own fault in this, son,” Josiah told him quietly. “But our lord spoke truly; you were raised to be a good man and the loss of that is your own failing. Ezra also was taken to live with a relation who in her own way was equally as cruel and cold as your mother’s family, but yet he retained his kind heart and you did not. Perhaps under this man’s guidance you will someday find it again, and when you do I will be proud to welcome you home.”

His son did not answer him, and in fact looked betrayed as the old healer removed him from the room. Chris answered the question he could see in Buck’s eyes, knowing the younger man would not presume to ask it of him. “Ahret will not be soft with your brother, but he is not a cruel man. And he is a fine healer, one any apprentice would be honored to serve.”

Buck bowed his thanks. “I am glad to hear it, my lord. Before all this, I should have said any master would have been proud to take Nathan as an apprentice.”

“Ahret may yet still,” Ezra told him. He held out his hand, and at a nod of assent from Chris Buck moved to take it. “You should not blame yourself, Buck.”

Buck went to one knee that he might look his younger brother in the eye, and his grip on the smooth hand that clasped his work-roughened one tightened. “He’s right you know; you look too white to be allowed out of bed, so I won’t ask you if you’re well. But…are you happy, Ezra? Tell me you’re happy and I’ll be happy too.”

“I am very happy.” Ezra’s smile was tired, but genuine, and it soothed his elder brother’s worried heart to see it – especially as he had never thought to see that smile again. “I am very much loved, and I love very much in return.” A shadow crossed his pale face. “You know I would have found a way…”

“I know you would not have let us go on thinking you were dead,” Buck assured him, patting the hand he held. “But to look at you, I can’t believe but that even those who were here at your side feared your life would be lost.”

“That we did, young man, that we did.” Gloria brushed aside a wetness from her eyes and then shook out her apron fussily. “I must back to the kitchen.” She looked down at Jaedee, whose small hand was still hanging on to her apron and whose eyes were still wide, and she smiled. “Shall I take you with me, young one? I believe there may be some cakes there that need to be tasted.”

The brown eyes lit up and the small grip tightened. “Can Vin have some too?”

“Of course he can.” She held out a plump hand to the older boy and her smile widened when he took it. “We’ll just be off to the kitchen, then; I’d say your older brother would probably like to do some wenching at the festival and he’ll do it easier if he doesn’t have you two tagging at his heels. Your father can come to fetch you back at suppertime.”

“I will come for them,” Buck said quickly, before Josiah could answer. He stood up from his brother’s side and winked roguishly at the older woman, essaying a slight bow. “Perhaps there may be cakes left for me to taste as well when I come, my lady?”

Gloria laughed and waved a dismissing hand at him as she ushered Vin and JD out of the study. “Go on with you, boy, and spend those pretty words on some girl who knows no better. I’ll keep your brothers safe until you return – and if you return with a girl to wife and not just to dally with I will see that she knows how to make the cake herself.”

The young man’s jovial face grew grave as he bowed again, although he did not lose his smile. “I have decided I must needs find a wife, good lady, and sooner rather than later for my brothers’ sakes if not my own. When I come for my brothers ere dark, perhaps we will see how my luck has run.” He bowed again, this time to the watching lord. “With your leave, my lord?”

Chris smiled at him. “I wish you luck, and our Lady’s blessing that you might find what you seek,” he replied. “Go now, before some other claims the wife you seek.”

Buck bowed again, deeper this time, and left as Gloria and his younger brothers had done, and only half a moment afterwards Ahret was back to see Ezra returned to his rooms and his bed. Josiah was mostly forgotten in the excitement, having withdrawn to a corner of the room, and when all the rest had gone he left as well and went out of the castle.

Left to his own devices, alone, Josiah wandered through the festival that crowded the meadow for a time, lost in his own thoughts. The merrymaking of his neighbors and sundry held no interest for him, nor did he feel like joining them even to celebrate his delight that his lost son still lived. In truth, he did not know how much of what he felt was delight and how much dismay; Ezra was alive, but he was bound still to the man who had been the cruel and terrible Beast. Was he bewitched still? And had this beast-lord bewitched Buck and his other two sons as well, that they had ceased to fear and loathe him so quickly?

Eventually Josiah returned to the castle and continued his wandering there, even though he knew he really should not. Curiosity drew him, though. What vague memories he had of this place were of a dark ruin inhabited by a monster with ivory tusks and claws, save for the study he had been driven to find earlier. Now, however, he saw the wonder and pride of the place and was even more dismayed by the idea of such magickal powers as might be still residing here, casting a glimmering net over all who trod the marble halls.

Yet Ezra had appeared happy. And even more than that, he was alive to appear happy although he had appeared far from well. Which was only to be expected, of course. But Josiah had to admit to himself that a part of this new restlessness was fed by his desire to find his errant son and speak with him, to find out whether his pleasure in his situation was true or false.

A slight tingle seemed to invade his body, and a compulsion he could not name led him to a particular staircase and up it, then down yet another marble corridor to face a wooden door. He might have turned away, fearing the magick he knew had to be behind the leading, but the plaque on the door gave him pause: Ezra’s Room. The jade was the exact color of his son’s eyes, and the letters had been worked in gold. The handle of the door was gold as well and turned easily in his hand, and he entered as silently as he was able.

Josiah saw immediately that this wasn’t just a bedroom; it was a setting crafted to house a precious jewel. It was all in greens and golds, here and there offset by a touch of white or the darker brown of richly carved and polished wood. The tall windows had been half-shuttered to keep out the disturbing brightness of the afternoon sun, but what determined rays crept in filled the room with a soft golden haze of fine light. And in that light the jewel that was his middle son all but glowed, lying fast asleep in the large bed that sat across the room with one slender hand being clasped ever so gently by the tall lord of the castle who sat in a chair by his side.

The love and tenderness in the man’s face vanished under a cloud of irritation when he saw the intruder, and after pressing a kiss to the back of the hand he held Lord Larabee gently placed it atop the velvet comforter and silently stalked over to Josiah. A scowl and a gesture warned the older man to be silent, and the lord moved him quickly back out of the room and shut the door behind them. “He is sleeping and I won’t have him disturbed,” the lord said firmly. “What did you want?”

“Only to see that my son was all right, my lord,” Josiah rumbled softly. “I did not know that you were with him.”

“Where else would I be?” The turquoise eyes did not soften at all. “But you and I need to have words, old man, and they are words I do not want my consort to hear even in his sleep. Follow me.”

Josiah did not think it would be wise to refuse and hearing his son named consort instead of companion had startled him, and so he followed the angry lord into a bright sitting room some little distance down the hall; the room was supplied with comfortable chairs, but neither man made use of them. “What did you wish to speak to me about, my lord?”

The lord snorted. “Many things, old man, many things. I suppose that you feel some relief now that I have given the responsibility for your mad and violent son to another to bear?”

“In truth I did not know how to help Nathan,” Josiah admitted, fearing that if he were to lie the magick he suspected still lingered in this place might reveal it and make things the worse for him. “But it was no thought of mine to give him over to another’s care.”

“And yet you did, and it was only your eldest son who questioned my actions and your Nathan’s fate at Ahret’s hands, not yourself.” Josiah had no answer to that, and Chris shook his head. “And as for your actions – or I should say lack thereof – toward Ezra, let me say that I find it surprising you dare to name yourself his father in my presence with the same lips that have failed again and again to defend him or even to give him proper greeting on finding him still alive.”

That forced Josiah to find an answer, not in the least because he knew the charge to be somewhat true. “It was shock and surprise that robbed me of speech on seeing him alive again, my lord, not a lack of care or concern. On my honor…”

“Do not talk to me about honor,” Chris snapped, cutting him off. “It was not honor that made you silently reject the son you aloud professed to welcome home, it was pride; it was your own fear of embarrassment which you allowed to overshadow the love and trust that should have been his birthright. Ezra has ten times the honor you possess, because he knows how to apply it wisely.”

A frown flickered across the older man’s face. “I thought it best…”

“To let him know each day that you did not trust him?” the lord all but spat. “To leave he and his younger brothers in the power of one you knew wished at least two of them ill instead of good? Don’t bother to deny it,” he ordered with upraised hand, seeing that Josiah was about to do just that. “By your own admission you knew something was amiss with your second son, and yet you put your trust in him rather than the one who had best earned it by his actions. Tell me, old man, how much damage was done in your absence during your fateful journey, hmm? Or did you avoid asking, turn blind eyes to what was in front of you as you had before? Did you beg your youngest sons’ forgiveness for leaving them in the hands of this Nathan of yours, did you ask them to tell you all that had happened?” He saw the look on Josiah’s face and shook his head. “I thought not – I have no doubt that all you know came from your eldest son’s questions, not your own. You, old man, are a coward.”

The accusation stung Josiah to anger. “I will have you know I have never been so accused, Lord Larabee.”

“You have now.” Chris made a face. “What spirit is it other than cowardice that stills a man’s tongue when a simple question might lay the truth before him? Had you asked, you might have known that the day you left your ‘trusted’ second son gave his brother the ultimatum that either his fine walking horse would pull the family cart during your absence or his owner would if the animal were to be fed at all; Ezra incurred the scar that mars his neck while trying to protect the poor beast from his brother’s wrath after he had chosen the latter. Had you asked, you might have been told that the son of Herne you adopted as your own was during that dark time being locked in a closet to sleep each night that he might not visit the woods, or that your youngest had been forbidden to laugh out loud, or that Ezra was being made to sleep in the barn with the animals and given only the meanest of rations in an attempt to teach him his ‘place’.” He waved an angry hand in the direction of his consort’s chamber. “The enchantment that was on this castle prepared that room for him, I did not although I would have had it been my option; its appearance should amply prove our Lady’s opinion of the ‘place’ she would have Ezra occupy in this world.” He stamped back a little and ran a hand through his short blond hair. “However angry I am with you, though, I cannot deny that your blind carelessness brought me the most precious treasure I could ever have hoped to possess…and for that I must thank you.”

“I accept your gratitude with deep shame, my lord,” the older man replied slowly. “Although it galls me to be taken to task in such a manner by any man, be he of noble birth or no. But at the same time it is a shame you share with me; the treasure you speak of was taken from me all unwilling by you and bound to you by unnatural enchantment.”

Chris turned red. “The enchantment bound me also, old man, I did not use it in the fashion you imply – nor would I have, even had I been able to do so.”

Josiah shook his head and was about to reply when a breathless voice said, “Please, stop.” Both men spun around. Ezra was standing in the doorway on shaky legs, barefoot and clad only in a fine white nightshirt. He looked very small and young standing there, his green eyes wide and pleading. “Please, enough damage has been done to my family by me, do not compound that by arguing on my account…”

“No, Ezra,” Josiah interrupted. His anger drained away at the sight before him, and he suddenly knew what it was the lord had been trying to tell him – and what might be required to fix it. He did not notice that the chill within him lessened somewhat at that realization. “The damage that was done was not of your making but of mine, although the burden of it was allowed to fall heaviest on you through my own pride and fear. Can you ever forgive me, son?”

“Forgive you?” Ezra staggered and Chris quickly moved to his side. “Father, I…I don’t understand. It was I who broke my word to you on two separate occasions and in so doing lost all honor in your eyes. I came to accept that your trust in me could never be regained…

“It was myself I did not trust,” Josiah corrected him, feeling the weight of his shame yet again and finding it almost too heavy to bear. “I feared the vagaries of my own judgment and so refused to allow the silence between us to be broken – and in doing so not only pushed you away from myself but also from your brothers as well.” He took a tentative step forward, looking down into his son’s pale face. “Ezra, I would very much like to know how you, the gentlest of my sons, came to be drawn into a duel he could not avoid.”

Ezra’s eyes grew impossibly wide…and then his legs gave way beneath him; had Chris not been quick to catch him he would have collapsed to the floor. The tall lord at once swept his consort up into his strong arms and glared at Josiah. “Old man…” The glare gave way to grudging resignation when he saw the concern etched on Josiah’s face, and he sighed. “Come with me.”

Back down the corridor they went and into Ezra’s room, where Chris lost no time putting his precious burden back into bed. Ezra was already stirring from his faint as he was gently settled back into his pillows, and when his green eyes opened and saw Chris bending over him he smiled so sweetly as to bring tears to his father’s eyes. “These embarrassing attacks of weakness have become far too frequent, my lord.”

“You grow stronger every day,” Chris assured him, pressing the hand he still held to his lips. “But it was too soon for so much excitement as you have had today and now you are paying the price.”

Ezra laughed lightly. “I did not plan it, the excitement came to me and caught me unawares.” His eyes shifted past the man by his bedside and landed on his father, and he a flush of color stained his pale cheeks. “But even so I regret that I so blatantly displayed what weakness still remains to me before…another.”

Josiah winced. “I think no less of you for it, my son,” he rumbled quietly, moving closer to the bed – but not too close as he was not sure the lord would allow it. “I am still full of amazement that you are alive.”

“It was a near thing.” Chris had sat back down on the chair he had been occupying earlier, although he did not release his consort’s hand. “He rode back without stopping because he sought to save me, and in doing so killed his horse and almost himself along with it.” His blue-green eyes sparked tiredly. “It was not from any urging of mine that he did so, old man, but from the love in his heart. And his love and sacrifice broke the enchantment that had been on me and mine for more scores of years than I care to count.”

“It is true, Father,” Ezra ventured, although Josiah saw that his hand more tightly clutched the tall lord’s as he spoke, as though he feared he would not be believed. “I could not let him die, and most especially not by my hand.”

“The blood would have been on my hand, not yours,” Josiah soothed. He could see ever more clearly now where he had gone wrong, and was surprised that the thought seemed to warm him instead of filling him with cold pain. “I greatly wronged you, my son – not once, but many times. Had I only spoken my trust of you aloud, on any occasion since you returned to me from the city, your brother’s madness where you were concerned might have lessened instead of growing.”

To his surprise, Ezra shook his head against the pillow. “No, Father. Even as things stood Nathan believed you to be showing an excess of favor to me, and had it in his mind that could he but show you the error of your feelings then you would come to see me as he did.” He sighed. “As for the question you put to me before I was…overcome by my weakness, I was challenged in my love for a rich merchant’s daughter by another suitor and could not deny the duel lest I deny my love for her in the same breath. I won, although I was careful not to kill him, but despite that she chose him over me and ordered me from her presence forever.”

Josiah saw that his son was expecting his censure and shook his own grizzled head. “She was a faithless woman, then, and not worthy of you,” he said quietly, and wanted to weep at the look of shock on Ezra’s face. “In truth, my son, it was my knowledge of such women that caused me to forbid duels to yourself and your brothers, knowing that to many it is a game that they take no care in playing. In her youth, your aunt was such a one herself.” He dared, then, to approach the bed on the opposite side from the lord and even to seat himself upon the side of it, reaching out one callused hand to touch his son’s pale cheek. “All the fault here lies with me, Ezra. I cannot expect your forgiveness, but I would ask you to tell me this one thing truly: are you happy, my son? Tell me only that the contentment I see in you is your own and not born of binding magicks, and I will give you my blessing to remain here.”

He sensed more than saw the lord stiffen, but the second sigh that was released from his son’s body was pure relief. “No enchantment binds me, Father,” Ezra whispered, his eyes closing even as a smile played over his lips, and his slender fingers squeezing Chris’ hand before falling still in his grasp. “None save love, at any rate.”

“Then remain here and be happy in that,” Josiah told him, leaning forward to kiss his forehead before standing up, and smiling when he realized his son had succumbed to peaceful sleep once again. He turned his faded blue eyes on Chris. “I had to know, my lord.”

“Yes, you did.” Chris did not quite smile. “As I was once a father myself, so I do understand what a man will dare to protect his son – and I am much heartened that you found your courage at last, old man, if only to question my own honor with it before my very face. And I say to you now, you will be welcome to come visit what members of your family remain in my charge as you will; it may indeed be a help in your Nathan’s recovery to know his father still has a care for what becomes of him.”

“I can only hope that may be true, my lord,” was Josiah’s reply, and then recognizing dismissal in the lord’s expression he bowed and went to the door. He hesitated, though, with his hand on the golden handle, turning back to he who had been the Black Beast with a frown. “About my own curse …”

Chris shook his head. “I saw the burden on you when you first entered my presence and knew its origin at once; however, as I told you before, I have not such power nor did I ever have it,” he told Josiah quietly. “Look to your own conscience, old man, and I believe you will find the source of what has afflicted you. Whether yet more of it lifts than has already this day most likely depends on how much of your courage you find the strength to keep, and how much of your old silence you refuse to as well.”

Josiah bowed again, having no response to that, and left the room as quietly as he was able. He paused briefly to take in the golden letters that spelled out his son’s name on the jade plaque again before making his way back out of the castle and into the afternoon sunshine, stopping beside the stone steps to smell the blooming roses although he did not touch them. And then he ventured around the side of the castle to rejoin the festival and his neighbors, wondering if Buck had yet had any luck in finding himself a wife.