Free Beyond Compare by Candace Camp

needle and thread, then stood over the man again and traded the bloody bandage for a fresh one.
    The man gasped with pain, and he coughed. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and he drew another painful breath. Rafe had seen enough death to read it in the man’s face. He glanced at the doctor and saw there a confirmation of what he already knew. The man was near death, and neither bandages nor a needle and thread were likely to do him much good.
    “Please…” The man’s hand moved a little, reaching toward his waist. Then he turned his face to the side, and a little sigh escaped him. He went still.
    “He’s gone,” the doctor said quietly.
    There was the click of a woman’s heels on the stone floor of the hall, and Kyria hurried into the room, her face creased in a frown. “Rafe! What happened? Smeggars told me…”
    Rafe moved quickly toward her, but not before her gaze went to the table. She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Her face paled. “Is he…”
    Rafe’s arm went around her shoulders, supporting her. “He’s dead.”
    Kyria let out a little cry of dismay, and she turnedinstinctively, burying her face in Rafe’s shirt. Rafe’s other hand came up to stroke her back soothingly.
    “I’m sorry. I couldn’t get to him in time.”
    Kyria’s hands curled into Rafe’s jacket, and she hung on for a moment longer, too shocked by the sight of the body on the table to speak or even summon up a coherent thought.
    Gradually the shock began to subside, and she realized that she was clinging to Rafe. Even as she thought how good and comforting it felt to lean against him thusly, she knew that she should not be doing it. It was, in fact, a little frightening to realize how good it felt.
    She raised her head and stepped back, doing her best to hide the fact that it took some effort to let go of him. “I’m sorry,” she said a little shakily. “I have never seen—”
    “Of course not. I’m sorry you had to see him,” Rafe said. “It was just that he asked for you. I thought you might know him.”
    “What?” Kyria looked at Rafe, then with a visible effort, turned around and looked again at the man lying motionless on the table. She swallowed, feeling a little sick and faint, but she forced herself to take a step closer and gaze more closely into the man’s face.
    She turned back to Rafe, saying, “I have never seen this man before. What happened? Are you sure he asked for me?”
    “The first time he said, ‘Kyri…’ and then a moment ago it sounded as if he was trying to say your name again.”
    “Yes, my lady,” the doctor agreed. “He definitely seemed to be trying to say your name. And he said, “Please.” That’s all we could understand. He spoke in a foreign language.”
    “I don’t understand.” Kyria forced herself to look at the man on the table again, then shook her head. “He is a complete stranger to me. I cannot imagine why he would have asked for me. What happened?”
    “Someone attacked him,” Rafe explained. “I was outside smoking a cigar, and I walked around to the front of the house. I saw him coming up the driveway. I thought it was odd, so I kept watching him, and then all of a sudden, this other fellow ran out of the trees at him, and they started to fight. I ran over, but I couldn’t get there in time. The other man stabbed him and took off.”
    “I can’t believe it!” Kyria drew in a shaky breath. “You’re saying someone attacked a man right in front of our house! But why? And who could he be? Why did he say my name?”
    “I have no idea. But I got the impression he wanted to give you something. He had a small bag tied to his waist. When I got there, he said your name, and then he put his hand on the bag and said, “Please, give…” All I can think is that he wanted to give you whatever was in that bag. I assume that was why he was coming here.”
    “But why? I don’t even know him!”
    Rafe shrugged. “I don’t know. But maybe you