Guardian of Honor Page 34

  She returned his smile. "Thank you."

  Jaquar cocked a brow at Bastien. "As for you, Chevalier, I willdeliver several magical potions with your volaran, along with instructions, and perhaps a spare magical weapon or two. I'd like payment now for the books. I've heard you have a hat, made of soul-sucker."

  Bastien relaxed back into the love seat, grinning naturally for the first time. "I do." He took the little horn and spoke into it. "Urvey, my soul-sucker hat, please."

  A moment later Urvey entered the room, carrying the hat. He gave it to Bastien, then hurried from the room. Bastien whipped the hat over to Jaquar.

  It had always been the ugliest hat Alexa had ever seen, but Jaquar's eyes lit up as he caught it, ran his hand around the broad rim, then placed it on his head at an angle. It looked as ridiculous on him as it had on Bastien.

  Jaquar grinned. "Nice hat. The bargain is done."

  The men exchanged glances.

  Alexa shook her head. Men.

  The sangvile hovered, thin as it could make its body, over the house where the Exotique prey was. It yearned for that Power. But the feycoocu was there too, and the shapechanger was strong and dangerous.

  The one with bright magic that it had followed from the Castle had entered the house. The sangvile trolled the area for someone to drain of magic, but all the good ones were in the house. It would need to feast soon, and on rich magic.

  It waited, and then the strongly magical one left on volaran-back and the sangvile hooked itself to the whoosh of air in its wake.

  That night, after another round of spectacular lovemaking, Alexa lay cradled in Bastien's arms, listening to his soft snoring and the birdcall outside.

  The sounds should have comforted her, reminded her that she'd found a place of her own, people of her own. But she was lonely. For the Marshalls. How stupid was that?

  But they'd called her and trained her and she'd thought they gave her friendship.

  The birdsong was too damn cheerful. She stilled as she realized that it was the bluebird nesting for the night. Her mouth curved down and she pressed her lips hard together against a cry of pain. Just that morning she'd danced to the bluebird song, sure of her place in life at last.

  Such a day, eons long, aged her second by second with trials.

  And that was self-pity. A spurt of anger dried incipient tears. She'd danced joyfully in the morning, fought the sangvile and the Marshalls. It had been an eventful day, a fateful day, and she'd formed the shape of it herself with her own mind and body and magic. That was something.

  She stroked Bastien's chest. She had what she'd always wanted—a home, a place, a man. All very good things, better than the loss of false friends. She thought of the thin Song-threads that still bound her to the Marshalls and considered snipping them the way she'd once threatened to cut the Song between herself and Bastien. Her pride wouldn't let her Summon metaphorical scissors. To clip the threads would be to let the Marshalls know they were important to her, and that they'd hurt her.

  No, she wouldn't destroy. She'd build—a solid relationship with Bastien and the Chevaliers.

  Her hand slipped down Bastien's body to caress. This is what mattered right now. Man coming into woman. Loving.

  That night Thealia sat in the window seat of their suite in the Castle and looked out the bow windows. Night was falling and itwas raining. Though the rain at the Castle no longer contained frinks, it still depressed her. Or perhaps it was looking at the Tower that jutted to her left. The Tower with dark windows where there'd been light when Alexa was here.

  Partis came up behind her, pulled her close against his body. The cadence of their Song strengthened, deepened, and notes of desire mixed in. It lifted her spirits a little.

  He rubbed her arms from elbow to shoulder. "You miss Alyeka. So do I. The Castle hadn't seen such vibrancy for a long time, not since all of the Marshalls' children were younger and still journeyed with us."

  "We were so wrong in all our actions with Alyeka."

  "Why do you scold yourself so? None of us had ever dealt with an Exotique before. We made mistakes—"

  "Bad mistakes."

  "Bad mistakes. But time will correct them."

  Thealia grasped one of his hands between hers. "You think so?"

  "Alyeka carries the Jade Baton, Bastien the black-and-silver. They are Marshalls to the bone. They claimed the batons and we claimed them. Alyeka is a very reasonable person—she will find her way back to us."

  "I do miss her."

  "And you think you should have been closer to her, had more personal contact," Partis murmured in her hair. "You are blaming yourself again. Hindsight. We did our best. If we had to do it over again, we would proceed differently, but that opportunity will not come. Stop thinking, come to bed and feel."

  "You're sure she will return?"

  "Yes."

  He'd always been better at knowing people than she.

  "Alyeka, Bastien, the Marshalls, the sangvile and the battle—horrors truly invading, coming over our borders in large numbers,not twos or threes. So much to think about. So much to do. What do we do next?"

  "We go to bed." With strength and magic and Song, he carried her there.

  Dema and Farentha were the first Chevaliers to show up the next day, though Farentha was still healing and would not be able to fight. After that, a few more arrived every day. At first, it was the independent Chevaliers; then a minor noble Chevalier would come with two or three of his household. Soon both Bastien's and her own house were filled, and there were tented encampments around each home.

  Bastien had taken on the work of a general and was good at it. Urvey and Pascal were his devoted staff and Marwey studied defensive magic with Farentha. Alexa thought she'd be hiring more Chevaliers soon to fight under her banner, as many as she could pay, though she didn't like the idea of leading others to death. The only palatable thought was that she wasn't asking them to do anything she wouldn't do herself.

  So Alexa walked the land. One day she found a fallen brithenwood stick, round and tall enough to be fashioned as a staff. She hefted it, liked the weight, the slight roughness of bark under her fingers. The Song in it wasn't quite dead, and as she held it, the tune changed, deepened and resonated. For a moment a door flickered in her mind. She tried to grasp an elusive concept, but it vanished. She could only hope the idea would return.

  She also trained in fighting and magic, working with Bastien to function as a team. Now and again she was sent to the nearest border to walk the line and strengthen it, keeping out the minor evils and single major ones. She studied the books and made potions, anointing the Chevaliers' weapons with magic—death magic for the horrors.

  All in all, she was satisfied that she was doing her best possible effort to ensure that when the battle came, Lladrana would have a force to meet it. Though she mourned for the connection she had had with the Marshalls, she thought it had been superficial and hoped she was building better friendships with the Chevaliers.

  One morning a week later, she was training with Bastien against Faucon and another Chevalier when a scream hit her brain.

  Alyeka. We need you. We need you now!

  The cry came in a tangle of voices inside her head. The Marshalls! All of them save Reynardus. In her time with them, she'd linked with all of them except Reynardus.

  The shout deafened her, blinded her, and she fell. Breath knocked out of her, she stared up at Faucon. His sword was at her throat, and he looked determined.

  "You're dead," he said.

  She lifted her hands in surrender and he withdrew, but he didn't offer to help her up from the training ground. Instead, he scowled at Bastien.

  "Why didn't you Shield her?"

  "It was her fight," Bastien said. "And I won't Shield her from mistakes she makes on the training ground."

  Alyeka! You were right. The army of monsters is massing. We Marshalls leave the Castle within the hour for the northern border. If you link with us, we can Summon you here
. We go to fight now, before the army is ready. We have called in all the Chevaliers loyal to us. For the love of Lladrana, tell those with you to help! Thealia laughed bitterly. This will be a long battle. We will need reinforcements. But with your help, right now, we might be able to prevent great loss, and strike first. We are calling on the Sorcerers and Sorceresses too.

  "What's wrong?" Faucon asked.

  Her breath was back. She sat up. "The battle. It's come. The Marshalls fly to attack first. They need my help."

  One side of Bastien's mouth twitched. "They finally reached you? I've been hearing them for the last quarter-hour." She gawked. "You didn't tell me?"

  "I didn't listen. I'm not a Marshall. That was a very short-lived twiddle-tune for me."

  "We must go!"

  "To fight with them? You have as much experience fighting with us here—" he gestured to the encampment outside her home "—as you have linking and fighting with them."

  26

  A sick dread twisted inside Alexa as she searched Bastien's hard expression. He would not go to the aid of the Marshalls and she could not refuse to help.

  He and she were on opposite sides of a chasm. She knew it, even if he didn't, and it looked like the crack would fracture their relationship. He hadn't said he loved her, and she hadn't told him of her love, but she thought that's what they felt for each other. Could what they had survive what was coming? Or would she be left alone with the colleagues of Marshalls, but no man of her own?

  Stiffly, she stood and brushed off her pants. She stared at the Chevaliers who were at the training ground, then lifted her voice. "What we have prepared for has arrived. The Marshalls leave for the North to strike at the gathering army."

  Faucon glanced at her, then ran to the fence and vaulted over it, calling for his Chevaliers. Everyone rushed to the tents to prepare for flight and battle. She and Bastien were left alone. His face was tight with anger.

  Alexa rolled her shoulders, sheathed her short sword. "I'm going to let the Marshalls Summon me to the Castle."

  "Why? Why do you go to them, fight with them?"

  "They need my help. They will be the first on the scene. With enough Power, we might forestall a huge battle." She shuddered at the thought of lost lives. Some would die. Maybe she would, but at least she would have done her best.

  "You're going to them?" He sounded completely disbelieving. He towered over her.

  She felt blood drain from her face as she tilted her head up. She tried to keep her voice steady, cool. "They are the best fighters of Lladrana. They have power and magic. Working with them is the best use of my skills. They need my help."

  "So do we, the Chevaliers here."

  Alexa walked to the training yard gate. "I can make more of a difference with the Marshalls. If we fight well, we can save lives, perhaps the lives of some of our Chevaliers here."

  He grabbed her by the shoulders, his grip hard. "They've always manipulated you and used you. If you go, they will use you again. He will use you, Reynardus, suck your Power dry, like that damn sangvile. You, the most important part of his team, he will consider the most expendable."

  "I know." Her insides trembled with fear, at the awareness of fate. "I must go."

  Bastien's mind brushed hers, melded, tried to overwhelm. She was swamped by his tangled emotions—fear for her, love for her, anger at her blindness, her stubbornness.

  She replied with a soft and soothing tone, comforting him, then she pulled away.

  "I can't go with you. He'll use you, and through you, he'll use me. I can't..."

  "I know," she said. I'm coming, she sent to Thealia.

  The woman's—and all the Marshalls'—great relief permeated Alexa. Your home contains a pentagram in the southwest room—

  Iknow where it is, Alexa said. She knew every inch of her lovely home.

  "You're really going. To them. Leaving me for them," Bastien choked out.

  Alexa didn't know how to answer him. Didn't want to put it in personal terms like that. "You're really staying, coming later with the Chevaliers, unwilling to be my Shield," she said gently. She'd tried to block the sickening emotions—feelings that would weaken her. Now wasn't the time to feel, not even the time to think. Now was the time to act—and to pray that her training, all her training, held true.

  He looked like she'd struck him, pallid under his natural tan skin. He even swayed. She couldn't take the heartbreak in his eyes, the heartbreak that clutched her insides. She ran back to him, stood on tiptoe, pulled his head down for a hard kiss of lips and tongue, savoring his taste, his scent, the strong passionate melody that still wound between them. Then she broke the kiss and stared into his stormy ebony eyes.

  "I love you." She turned and bolted to the house.

  She stopped in her room to gather the magical sword she and Bastien had made, and her fighting leathers and boots of dreeth hide. Her new brithenwood staff leaned against the wall and her fingers itched. She should take it into battle.

  Alyeka, COME! the Marshalls cried.

  She had her sword and her baton. She pelted to the room with the pentagram, stood inside it, let her tears flow. I'm here.

  The Song that had swirled her from Colorado to Lladrana enveloped her again, plucked her from all she loved, to battle and an unknown enemy.

  As she landed in the pentacle in the Castle Temple, she noticed the rhythm was slightly off. She looked up to see nine strained faces. Reynardus wasn't there.

  Thealia rushed over to help her up, steadied her by putting hands on both shoulders.

  Johnsa called, "Alyeka, Luthan is waiting in Temple Ward for you. The local landowner up North knows you're coming and has an appropriate horse."

  "Where's Reynardus?" Alexa's breath came raggedly. Apparently the Summoning had primed her for battle already; she recognized the adrenaline buzz.

  Mouth twisting, Thealia hustled Alexa into the pretty spring day. "Reynardus's volaran left in the night."

  "Left? How? Where?" This made no sense.

  "Volarans are more than horses. We breed many, but most of them come from a wild herd and stay with a person, sometimes are controlled by that person. If they want to leave, nothing will stop them. Reynardus's left."

  It should have been funny, but dread rose in Alexa. She shuddered.

  Thealia nodded. "We all have that feeling. The horrors massing—it's a fateful day and we all know it."

  Alexa licked her lips. "Didn't someone offer Reynardus a volaran?"

  "He rejected several. Then nobody offered any more."

  Sounded like Reynardus. Alexa found herself nodding. She probably would be doing a lot of things more by instinct and training than by thinking today. She didn't want to think.

  The past couple of weeks she'd worked with Bastien, and he wasn't here. The hole eating her insides would distract her if shethought about it, so she didn't dare. She could block that emotion as she rode the volaran while flying North. Yes, that could work.

  Luthan strode up, face tense. He looked behind her. "Bastien's not with you?" Glancing at her face, he swore. "Never dependable."

  She managed a weak smile. "He'll be there. As part of the independent Chevaliers. Just not with me." No voice catching on a sob. That was good.

  "Idiot," Luthan said. He nodded to Thealia. "Mount up." Then he looked back to Alexa. "We can Pair for the battle. We work well enough together."

  "Wait!" Ivrog strode up. His eyes were clear and fired with determination. "I'll Pair with the lady." He took her hand in his and a quick, easy, strong bond sang into place.

  Luthan stepped back at the Power. "Incredible." He nodded once, pulled his riding gauntlets from his belt and slipped them on, smiled fiercely. "I'll see you at the North border, Prevoy's Pointe." Running, he jumped into the saddle and his volaran wheeled into the sky.

  Ivrog tucked Alexa's hand into his arm. "I hope you don't expect that sort of acrobatics from me."

  Some of her tension eased. "No."

  But he was tall an
d walked fast, and she had to scurry to keep up.

  "We will have to use distance-magic," Ivrog said. They'd reached his flying horse and he now boosted her into the saddle. "My Treasure, here—" he stroked the arch of the mare's neck "— was a gift from Bastien. I don't use distance-magic very often. She will be pleased to fly so." His smile was wry. "I only do distance magic when going to a fight." He sucked in a breath. "And this looks to be the biggest fight of all." He swung up behind her. "Arise!"

  The volaran took off, strong and steady. Alexa rested on Ivrog'schest behind her. It was like leaning on a sturdy uncle. Ivrog formed a clear bubble around them.

  "I'm going to trance," Alexa said. "I need to block my emotions regarding Bastien." Again she was proud her voice didn't quiver.

  Ivrog grunted. "Good idea. Try also to rest. Perhaps a little spelltune or two about how you will be at your best on the Field."

  A little laugh welled in her throat. Affirmations? "I will fulfill my true potential on the Field."

  She felt Ivrog nod. "Sounds good. When you de-trance, let me know, and I'll trance myself."

  "I will fulfill my true potential on the Field." She tasted the words again, wondered what sort of tune to give them, then sent a last glance at the quickly disappearing Castle, her first home on Lladrana. She'd liked her suite there. Trees were in full blossom, and a rising bluebird's cheerful mating call followed them away.

  Anguished, Bastien stood staring after Alexa, then looked down at himself. Funny, it didn't look like the heart and guts had been torn from him to lay spilled on the ground. Maybe the jerir had prevented it, or all the other scars on his body.

  Didn't prevent the ripping pain, though. He ran his hands over his chest. No cavity. Not outside.

  Cold sweat beaded on his temples, ran down his face. He doubled over, gasping with agony, and finally the torment hit his brain. What had he done? He'd sent his Pairling off to battle without him. She could die!