Free WindDeceiver by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

moved out and Rachel nudged her mount forward, keeping her head down so no one would notice the last rider in line. So no one could make her turn back.
    “That man is an idiot!” she had argued with her brother, but Asher had demanded she stay behind.
    “We must do as he says. He’ll be our salvation, Rachel,” Asher believed. “I know he will.”
    Rachel
    did,
    too.
    If she could help keep him alive long enough!
     
    WINDDECEIVER Charlotte Boyett-Compo 38

CHAPTER NINE
    Sitting in the midst of a lush growth of wavering grasses, The Farm, as most of Rysalia called it, looked somehow out of place. All around it were undulating sands, for as far as the eye could see; but right smack in the middle of all that inhospitable barrenness, was a sprawling structure, its many arms spread out like the spokes of a wheel. The pink-tinged stone rising up off the desert floor made the structure look as though it had sprang up out of the earth to roost among the lush green grass.
    “It has a certain charm, don’t you think?” Sajin asked as they rode toward the place.
    Yuri chuckled. “I wonder what kind of mood he’ll be in when he sees us.”
    Sajin had to bite his lip, something he’d done for three days now, to keep from laughing.
    Just contemplating Conar in such a place had kept his side aching from laughing for all that time.
    “Not a happy camper, I wouldn’t imagine,” Yuri answered his own thought.
    “If what you tell me of the man is true,” Azalon quipped, “he well might be enjoying himself.” He grinned. “I know I would.”
    “Not Conar,” Sajin answered. “He will have brought the woman’s wrath down on him by now.” He glanced at Yuri. “How long do you reckon he’s been here?”
    “A month and a half. Possibly longer.” Yuri couldn’t stop himself from grinning. “Long enough to have fathered half a battalion of Wind Warriors.”
    “Don’t!” Sajin snorted, his laughter starting all over again. His horse sidestepped, tossing its head at the man. It snickered to show its disdain.
    Yuri started chuckling, too, his sputtering driving his own mount to dancing.
    “I can not wait to meet this man,” Azalon commented.
    “How much do you think we’ll have to pay to get him back?” Yuri asked.
    “Not the two hundred thousand she paid for him!” Sajin drawled, then burst out laughing hard enough to bring tears to his eyes.
    “What if she won’t sell him?” Azalon asked in all seriousness.
    Sajin looked at Yuri and the two men’s guffaws were instant blasts of hilarity.
    “She might not,” Azalon told them, offended that they could find the situation so funny.
    “Obviously she prizes his physical--“ He stopped, shocked into silence by the loud hoots of humor coming from his companions.
    Kharis stood just outside the main circle of protective wall which ringed the farm and watched the men approaching. He could hear their laughter, took in the slow canter of their horses and reckoned them slave buyers coming to inspect the Lady Sabrina’s latest crop of offspring. He turned to speak to one of his underlings.
    “Tell the lady we have visitors.”
    “Any reason to be concerned?” the man asked.
    Kharis turned back, heard more raucous laughter and shook his head. “I think not, but I’ll wait here and speak to them.”
    Ten minutes later, the trio came down off a high sand dune, and walked their thirsty mounts toward the opening where a tall man stood sentinel.
    “Good thing we didn’t bring the others with us,” Sajin remarked. “They might have closed the gates.”
    WINDDECEIVER Charlotte Boyett-Compo 39
    “Let me do the talking,” Azalon said. He glanced at Sajin. “They will no doubt know who you are, Your Grace. If they become suspicious, we might never find your friend.”
    “We’ll find him,” Yuri said. “Just listen for the loudest, meanest bellow you can hear!”
    “Or the longest shout of ecstasy!” Sajin quipped, bringing fresh gales of laughter to