Green, Sharon - Lady Blade, Lord Fighter.htm

by Lady Blade, Lord Fighter

  Once again only a single lamp was lit in my bedchamber, and its feeble efforts weren't quite up to letting me see myself clearly in my mirror. put a hand to my face to convince my mind that that was really me I saw, the young Blade with brown hair, gray eyes—and the look of helpless devastation covering everything else. I'd been so calm and in control, so easy and assured over the decision I'd made—and now every bit of that was gone.

  Or almost every bit of it. I left the mirror to fall heavily into a brocade chair, then cursed under my breath when my sword hilt came back at me and jabbed at my side. There was no sword slot in that chair, not when it was meant for a lady's bedchamber, and that silly, unimportant little mishap suddenly blossomed into a major crisis. I leaned forward to put my face in my hands, elbows resting on thighs, but the situation was much too serious for tears.

  Traixe was sure my father was going to order me to dishonor him. Order me to it.

  What in Even's name was I going to do?

  The dark behind my hands was very peaceful, but I wasn't fooled into thinking it was real. There was no such thing as peace, not that side of Home, and anyone who didn't understand that was a mindless idiot. While my father was insisting I obey tradition and the Law, I'd had no trouble flatly refusing; how was ['supposed to continue with that when he was ready to order me to his dishonoring? How could I do that to him? And how could he do that to me?

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  1 sat back in the chair feeling the sharp edges of a shadow weapon in my flesh, but although I could reach it easily I couldn't draw it out of me again. If I'd turned around and walked away as soon as that marriage nonsense was mentioned, everything would have been fine; now if 1 walked away the blame would be my father's rather than mine, and he would not be denying that blame. To keep from betraying the daughter he loved, to keep from "destroying" her. How destroyed could a woman get being married to a Flower?

  "It would drive you crazy in no time flat," I growled, as though in argument, but the contention wasn't too likely to hold up. That's what night houses were for, after all, and with a Flower named my father's heir, someone had to be around to run the Duchy when its present Duke no longer could. It wasn't much of a life to look forward to, but it was better than the one a normal marriage would bring, constantly disappointing though it would be. ...

  "Broil it!" I growled as I got to my feet again. I'd almost had myself convinced, and the game wasn't even over yet! There were all sons of decisions yet to be made, and none of them were the sort to be made without a lot of prior thought. I didn't want to bring hurt to my father, but committing myself to a lifetime of frustration just to save him from discomfort or embarrassment wasn't what I considered an equitable trade. Traixe's revelation had startled me and gotten me upset, but Blade training helps you snap back from that sort of thing in as short a time as possible. Nothing of a lasting nature had to be decided right that minute, not even if I had the sinking feeling I knew how I'd have to decide, so the best thing to do would be to put it aside. I still had a Grand Feasting to attend ahead of me—and a Flower to meet and do my damnedest to discourage. I walked purposefully to the door and pulled it open, and Traixe looked up when he saw me, then got to his feet.

  "That didn't take very long," he observed, inspecting me in a casual way. "It might have been a good idea to wear that gown 1 sent, just to push Lord Kylin off-balance, but at the very feast you ought to leave your sword here. My fighters and I will be with you, and Lord Kylin might ..."

  "No," I interrupted, flatly and finally, meeting his eyes to show 1 meant it. "If you're afraid my being armed will be a

 

  temptation I can't resist, kindly grant me more self-control than that. I'li talk to that Rower of yours, but right now that's as far as I'm willing to go with it. Take it or leave it."

  "Evon take it, you've got more stubbornness than the rest of your family rolled together," he growled, some of my frustration finding a home in him. "Have it your way then, but don't expect it to be your way every time. The day will come when someone makes you do things his way." . "Not without a sword, they won't," I came back, starting for the reception room door. "And at least we know the someone won't be the infamous Lord Kylin. It may be wearing a sword, but if it tries to use it it'll be too busy with its self-inflicted wounds to worry about anything else."

  "Sofaltis, you're still looking for a fight instead of thinking about helping," Traixe protested as he hurried to follow me to the door. "You've got to stop calling Lord Kyiin an 'it.* "

  I opened the door and walked outside without answering, picking up my escort of fighters as 1 passed them. Traixe sounded a growl of annoyance deep in his throat as he caught up to me, but he didn't add anything. He must have thought he was wasting his breath, but he certainly had no grounds for complaint. After all, I'd warned him what would happen if he called me Sofaltis.

  The feasting hali was usually more than spacious, with stone blocks, flagstones, and heavy wooden beams surrounding the long boards, tall, wide windows and broad fireplace, but it didn't look the same that day. My father's colors of silver and green on the woven hangings were nearly obscured by all the people crossing back and forth in front of them, or milling around in front of them, or hurrying past them. The Counts and Barons guesting with my father were resplendent in their finery, their wives were even more splendidly turned out, the city people were almost their equal, and what seemed like every servant in the household moved around them, either with tidbit trays, pitchers, or piled-high platters for the tables. My father's kitchens had to have been preparing for days and days for that Grand Feasting, but his guests seemed more interested in the conversations they were holding than in what was being offered them.

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  "It looks like the subject of the new arrival is making the rounds," Traixe murmured from my left, his eyes moving over the animated conversers. "I don't think I've ever seen the lesser nobility so chummily close to the merchants and city higher-ups before, but there's never been such complete agreement between them before. I'd say they're discussing tradition and Law."

  "I'd be happier if they were discussing assassination," I murmured back, looking around the way he was. "That's what's wrong with associating with the law-abiding."

  Traixe's grunt was more noncommittal than agreeing, but I wasn't really paying attention to him. My roving gaze had found my father, who stood not far from the main board with his special guest beside him—and no one else within speaking range except for servants. The crowding of the rest of the room didn't extend to their corner, something my father was more than aware of, to judge by the tightness of his expression. The Flower, though, seemed blissfully ignorant of the true state of affairs, and chattered on into his host's unrespon-siveness while striking poses for the rest of the world to chatter about.

  "Well, what do you know," I commented, leaving it to Traixe to hear the very soft observation. "It's finally taken off its cloak. I wonder if it's chilly now."

  If Traixe heard me he didn't respond immediately, but the observation was true. The Flower stood in nothing but flowing trousers, long-sleeved tunic, swordbelt and boots. Red swordbelt and red boots. I was about to say something about people's appetites having to have been ruined after seeing something like that, but Traixe spoke first.

  "I think the Duke could use someone on his side right now," he said, taking my arm. "Are you remembering what you'll be doing with Lord Kylin?"

  "I'm remembering what I'd like to do with Lord Kylin," I answered, unhooking my arm from his gentle grip without looking at him. "If at any time that doesn't suit you, just let me know and I'll be glad to leave. Unless and until .that happens, just remember the role played by the general strategist once the battle is in full swing. You've appointed me to the position of field commander, and that's what I intend being."

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  With that I simply walked away from him, and I didn't have to look back to know how he was reacting to what I'd said. Traixe had never been one to stand with arms folded, watching while others fought, but that's what he'd be doing then, or he and my father could do their fighting without me. I didn't like any part of what was happening, and I couldn't help thinking that if I had any sense at all I'd walk out of there and leave them all to play their little games together.

  Making my way across the floor proved not difficult at all, even though half the people there seemed to want to ask me my opinion of what was going on, or give me the details of theirs. F.ach in turn would start to approach me with a smile, suddenly notice the expression I wore and the way my left hand rested on my hilt, and then they would step back into their former places in the crowd. Since by then they knew exactly how I felt about the entire situation and no longer had the need to ask, I was able to get where I was going quickly and directly. My father looked up when he saw me approaching, which made the—man—with him turn around and immediately fix me with a light-eyed stare.

  "Ah, Lady Sofaltis, how delightful to see you again," he said with what was almost a giggle, bowing grandly in my direction. "The moments since our last meeting have seemed like ages."

  "That's odd," I said, stopping about three feet in front of him. "To me they seemed exactly like moments."

  And then I fell silent and just stood waiting. If he was all that taken with me, he could carry the conversational burden, at least for a while. And possibly during that time he would learn not to make inane comments. He stood there looking down at me, expecting me to add to what I'd said, but after some more of those moments he'd mentioned he finally realized there weren't going to be any additions. At that point he stopped looking expectant and cleared his throat.

  "Yes, indeed, just like moments," he offered, working to get his smile back in place. "How delightfully clever of you to phrase it exactly that way. The gentlemen of your acquaintance must find you a most stimulating partner for conversation."

  "Oh, my, yes," I agreed, flashing him the most suggestive grin I could come up with. "If there's one thing the gentle-

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  men of my acquaintance have always said about me, it's that I'm a stimulating partner. I'm so glad you agree."

  "Uh, yes, most certainly ! agree," he mumbled, actually backing a step as though I'd advanced on him. His expression had turned peculiar as well, and suddenly I knew I'd stum-bied on exactly the right tine of pursuit. Our Lord Flower disliked references to intimate relations, and that meant he'd named the subject we'd be talking about most.

  *'I think it's time we began the Feasting," my father said to no one in particular while signaling to a servant with a gong who stood at the wall behind the main board. "Kindly follow me to our places at table."

  "Allow me to escort you, my lady," the Flower said, coming out of whatever had been bothering him fast enough to step forward with his arm out. The servant was stroking the gong and my father was already moving toward the board, and the conversation in the room was beginning to fall off as people started heading for their own boards. With Traixe still behind me I should have been trapped into taking the Flower's arm, but sometimes ignorance or innocence can get you out of a trap faster than intelligence and experience.

  "Oh, that's all right, I know the way," I answered with a small laugh, as though he were being silly and amusing, ignoring the arm being held out to me. "It's only a few steps, so why would I need an escort?"

  I turned alone and moved after my father, leaving the Flower with his arm out and a confused look in his eyes. It was then up to Traixe whether or not he wanted to take the arm, but a quick glance back showed he didn't. As I moved along the board to its center, I decided that that was too bad; at the very least it would have given my father's guests an additional topic of conversation.

  My father took his place in the Great Chair at the center of the board, and I almost walked past him before it came to me that the chair to his immediate right was mine. The last time I'd been there my brother Endrin had had the place, with Rymar to his right. The chair to my father's left was always kept empty, a tribute to my mother, and to the left of that was where I'd usually sat with Traixe beside me. If my sisters had been older they were the ones who would have been to my left, but they had been too young to be brought to Feastings.

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  They were still too young, which made the number of our family members at that board distressingly few.

  "Allow me, my lady," the Flower said, helping me with the chair as I began to seat myself. He certainly was fast at overcoming surprise, not to mention persistent, and his smile suggested he was being generous with something that was really his. As my father's oldest child the place to his right was mine, but only until I married. After that my husband would be my father's heir, and the place would be taken by him. The Flower's smile said that it would be silly to take a stand on betrothal rights—which he could have done—when the matter would be settled permanently in so short a time, and simply lowered himself into the chair beside me without a murmur. 1 decided it was a good thing my father hadn't adopted the use of glass tableware like certain of those of high position in the north, and sat back to try recapturing the hold I'd had on my temper.

  When everyone in the hall was finally seated, Traixe rose from his place in my old chair and asked Evon's blessing for all those attending the Feasting, as well as a special blessing for those the Feasting honored. That, of course, meant dear Lord Kylin and me, and officially began the three days of celebration traditional before the wedding ceremony. I could feel the Flower's eyes on me and sensed his deep satisfaction, two reactions I still found impossible to understand. When he said "my lady" I kept getting the feeling he meant "my lady," and that brought me the sensation of comers closing in. I had to find out what his specific interest was, and then do my damnedest to kill it.

  Traixe's invocation was as short and to the point as ever, and then the balance of the food began coming. Fried and stewed meats and fish, chicken of every possible description, breaded boar and edged venison, vegetables and breads and cheeses and greens. Four different kinds of soup with sixteen varieties of trimmings and dunk-ins, and with it all the wine and brew flowed like an unending waterfall. No one alive could have found fault with the Feast offering, and that seemed to lighten my father's mood to the point where he began talking to Traixe over the empty chair between them. That, unfortunately, left only a single someone for me to talk to, a circumstance which the someone was quick to take advantage of.

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  "I must admit this is most likely the finest Feasting I have ever attended," my lord Flower allowed graciously, holding his cup out so that it might be refilled from the wine pitcher of a hovering servant. "May I inquire, my lady, as to which of these dishes is your favorite?"

  "1 think 1 would have to say the boar," I told him, holding my own cup out to a servant with brew. "I've always found a great attraction in roasting boars."

  He was sipping at his wine when I said that, and if he'd been swallowing at it instead he probably would have choked. As it was he was reduced to coughing for a moment, and when he raised his head I was surprised to see that what had started the fit was laughter.

  "Clearly I'M need to be more cautious in future," he said, lowering his head again to give one last cough into his hand. "The dangers of so excellent a wine, a misswallow in overeagemess—1 do hope you'll forgive me."

  The gaze that came back to me was sober again, just as though the laughter had never been, and that gave me another puzzle to worry at. If he thought what I'd said was funny, why would he pretend instead that he'd swallowed wrong? It didn't make any more sense than the rest of it, and 1 decided it was time to ask a few questions of my own.

  "Whyever would you care about my forgiveness?" I came back, for the first time looking st
raight at him. "You can't possibly believe I'm here of my own free will, so what difference does it make how I feel?"

  "My dear lady Sofaltis, in a matter of days you will be my wife," he returned, the protest absolutely prim and proper, but with the shadow of something else behind it. "How could I not be concerned with your feelings? I look forward to the time with an eagerness I would have you share, and find myself distressed that I seem unable to accomplish that objective. Am I so loathsome to you, that you cannot even accept my concern?"

  Yes, I wanted to say, absolutely and inarguably yes, but with those light, innocent, vulnerable eyes on me I just couldn't do it. He might have been a Flower, but apparently even Flowers had feelings.

  "You still haven't really said why you would feel concern," 1 compromised, ignoring the subject 1 didn't care to

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  get into. "All nonsense about marriage aside, you don't know me and don't need to know me, something that would please any other member of your—persuasion. Why this sudden and unexpected push for the attention of the fly caught in the middle of the web?"

  "I, myself, find my reactions somewhat surprising," he said, somehow making me think he was trying to look surprised. "Despite my father's many and varied attempts at interesting me in the fair sex, I've never before discovered a woman worthy of my sincere interest. Now, however, that seems to have changed, and I am smitten with the woman who will be my wife. Happily, happily smitten,"

  He beamed at me then, to show just how happily, I suppose, and I felt the need to check on the quality of the brew my cup had been refilled with. Even he didn't know what he found so attractive about me, which meant I had almost no chance of countering that attraction. But I had to counter it, or my future would be as black as my leathers.