Lines of Fire (The Guild House - Defenders Hall)

by Walters, Janet Lane;

  “I wonder why?” Alric asked.

  Sando moved closer. “No patrol will have Petan in their ranks these days. The deaths of his two bondmates occurred when there was no one to testify as to the cause. The Swordmaster refused to allow the Justicars to examine him. He also refused to risk his heir being injured or defeated in a duel.”

  “Then I guess Robec won’t challenge me.”

  The older man shrugged. “He might be named as a champion for someone. After the baths, I suggest we exercise our steeds.”

  “Good thought,” Ganor said. “Is Storm Cloud up for a race?”

  “He’s rested since we returned.” Alric followed the men inside, undressed and slid into the hot pool. “You’re on for the race.”

  Sando tossed Alric the soap. “Bothers me that Petan witnessed the melee.”

  “Why?”

  “He’ll be the Swordmaster’s choice to face you in a challenge,” Sando said.

  Alric shrugged. His ability to read the lines would help, especially with the sluggish movement he’d seen in the blighted lines of his enemy. As he scrubbed chalk marks from his arms, chest and throat, he wondered if Sando knew anything about his father’s banishment and where his sibs had been sent.

  He swam to the slide into the rinse pool and listened to his companions discuss the coming meeting of the returned patrols. Of all the members, he was the only one without a bondmate. Some of the men mentioned women they wanted him to meet. He knew who he wanted to choose but he didn’t know her name. How could he learn?

  Alric rubbed himself dry. “Who’s up for the race?”

  Six of the men followed him to the stables.

  As he saddled Storm Cloud, the bihorn seemed restless. Alric laughed. “Been resting too long?” He held several apelons on his hand for the steed. “We’ll beat them all.”

  Once the riders lined up outside the gates, Sando raised his hand. “To the first crossroads.”

  Alric’s whoop joined those of his friends. They raced down the road. Not more than fifty yards from the gate Storm Cloud reared. Alric grasped the steed’s horns to keep from being thrown. The other riders streaked ahead. Alric dismounted and checked his bihorn’s hooves. From one he pulled a wide brass nail.

  “Looks like the race is over for us.” He grasped the reins and led the limping animal to the gate. Who had done this and why?

  * * *

  Kalia helped her mother into bed. The older woman’s lines of fire were as pale as the ones Ilna sported most of the time. Only when the other young woman had been with a man did her lines show any vitality. A kiss or a touch seemed to be enough to change them. Was that phenomena related to what happened to the Swordmaster’s wife after a stay in his quarters?

  “Mama, why do you allow him to do this to you time and time again?” Kalia asked.

  The older woman’s eyes opened. “A bondmate’s duty is to see to her mate’s comfort. You will understand once you wear Petan’s bracelet.”

  “I won’t.” Kalia drew a deep breath. She wouldn’t tell her mother how she planned to flee rather than be bonded to him.

  “You must. When Robec is named Swordmaster he will need a strong Right Hand. Your father believes Petan will be the one.”

  Kalia rose. “I won’t argue with you today.” She walked to the door. ‘Rest and regain your strength. I’ll send someone with broth, citren and kafa.” How long would the recovery take this time? After her mother’s last visit to her mate, a week had passed before her mother’s lines had brightened.

  Her hands tightened into fists. Tomorrow was the day of choosing. On the day when the returning patrols celebrated Ingathering, her father would allow Petan to name her as his bondmate. If she must duel, she would. Better to die beneath the blade than be milked of her essence by a man she believed was evil.

  Kalia left the area where the women who either weren’t bonded or didn’t live with their bondmates stayed. She raced along the corridors until she reached her father’s office. She tapped on the door and wished for once he would listen. Could she convince the Swordmaster that a bonding with Petan would mean her death? Did her father care?

  Petan was a leech. Just the other day his touch on her arm had drained some of her lines of fire. She shuddered. Just like her father changed her mother’s lines.

  An image of the pale wiggling creatures used by the Healers to clean wounds made her stomach lurch. Rather than essence, the creatures removed dead tissue from wounds.

  Thankfully she had pulled free from Petan before he had stolen more than she could spare. During her mother’s days with the Swordmaster, her father stopped before depletion occurred. Petan wouldn’t. He was greedy. The deaths of his former bondmates told her the truth of his nature.

  She knocked louder.

  When her father called, Kalia stepped inside and paused before the desk. “I have something to say.”

  The Swordmaster’s mouth curved into a smile. His eyes remained cold as bits of green glass. “I’m sure you’ve heard what will happen tomorrow. Secrets are few in the Hall. As you suspect, Petan will claim you as his mate.”

  Kalia stared at her father. She dare not cave to his demands. “I heard but I didn’t believe you would do this to me. I will refuse.” A shudder shook her body. She forced the words past her tight throat muscles a second time. “I will refuse.”

  He rose and pressed his hands against the mahogany desk top. “You will do as I command. You are my daughter. Your bondmate will stand as your brothers’ Right Hand when he takes my place as leader.”

  Kalia quieted her desire to attack her father. She needed to remain calm. “Find another mate for Petan. He has killed his last two mates. Will you see me become the third?”

  With a quickness she hadn’t expected he moved around the desk. “Those foolish young women refused to give him what he needs. You are stronger and were bred to do this, just as your mother was.”

  So he knew of Petan’s tainted lines. Kalia drew a deep breath. Her fisted hands hung at her sides. “I will refuse. That is my right. I’ve read the archived records. From the first days when our people came to this land, mates were to be freely chosen.” She backed toward the door.

  “You will obey.” He stalked toward her.

  “I would rather die by the sword.”

  She didn’t expect his reaction. Like a striking snake his hand lashed out. The blow landed on her face hard enough to send her back until she collided with the door.

  “Do not defy me.” He fisted his hands. “I will beat you senseless but you will accept Petan. Go to your chamber and prepare for tomorrow. Do you understand?”

  Kalia reached behind her for the latch. She dare not turn her back to him. With her cheek aching from the blow she ran along the hall toward the sanctuary of her chamber. Time to put her plan of last resort into action. Determination stiffened her spine, Tomorrow she would defy her father.

  She chose clothes and stowed them in the pack she’d used several years before during the training exercise. She added a comb, soap, several towels and some ties for her braid. She selected a chain and slipped the bonding bracelet her mother had given her onto the chain and tucked it beneath her shirt.

  On the bed she laid the clothes she would wear in the morning. Lifting the pack, she crept from the chamber and entered the bathing room. There, she used a door to reach a seldom used corridor.

  When she reached a door leading into the courtyard she raised the bar and peered into the empty forecourt. After racing across the flagstones she ducked into the stable and went to her bihorn’s stall and slipped inside. She hung the pack on a hook where the stablemen wouldn’t notice. She stroked Mist’s coat.

  “Tomorrow,” she whispered. Though she had no clear destination other than being beyond her father’s reach she would escape. With luck, she could join the rebels and share her knowledge of the past and her discoveries of using the lines to heal.

  A snorting bihorn startled her. She peered over the stall’s gate and
saw a man leading a limping steed. As he drew closer her breath caught. He was the man whose gaze had promised much. She stepped back and bumped into the wall with a thud.

  “Who’s there?” he asked. “Planning to attack?”

  Kalia opened the gate and stepped outside. “Don’t hurt me.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Kalia. And you.” His presence rattled her and she couldn’t remember his name if she had ever heard it. Their gazes met. His lines of fire flared.

  “Alric. What are you doing here?”

  The hint of suspicion in his voice produced a chill. “My bihorn. Nothing else.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Are you in trouble?” He touched her hand.

  The fingertips graced her skin and brought a promise of safety. Could she believe him? She needed to take control. “Why would you think someone planned to attack you?”

  “There are some in the Hall who don’t like me.” He held out his other hand. “Found this in Storm Cloud’s hoof. Bothers me.”

  She saw a large brass nail. “Why?”

  “Went to race some of my patrol. My steed refused the challenge. Found this. Good way to bring me back early and with no one to cover my back.”

  Kalia froze. She glanced around. Had Petan or her brother suspected her plan to run? Would she be discovered with this man who interested her? Fear caused her to tremble.

  His hold on her hand tightened. “What’s wrong?”

  “We shouldn’t be here alone.” Could she trust him? Her thoughts bounced from yes to no and back. The desire to believe he would help her strengthened. She thought of what Robec had told her. The Swordmaster wanted a reason to banish Alric. He was as out of favor as she would be when she refused the bond with Petan.

  Drawing a deep breath, she began. “I have to flee. My father has chosen a man as my bondmate I won’t accept.” She touched her cheek where her father’s blow had landed.

  He slid a finger over the tender area. “Who did this?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “You have the right of refusal.”

  As she stared at Alric, his fingers glowed scarlet. Her cheeks burned. Gradually the sensation faded and the pain vanished. What had happened? Could he use the lines to heal?

  She stepped back. “Yes, I can refuse but how can I face Petan in a duel? I have no experience with dueling. I have no one to act as my champion.”

  “Why can’t you duel? Surely you have passed the training exercises.”

  “I learned the forms and practiced dueling but I find no pleasure in fighting.”

  “Why weren’t you fostered to one of the villages? A Defender has to enjoy dancing with the sword and knife.”

  “I’m the Swordmaster’s daughter. Rules are different for his children. My father plans to mate me with the man who will stand as Robec’s Right Hand.”

  Alric shook his head. “Robec may not be the next Swordmaster. Someone could challenge your father and win. Do you think Petan will be satisfied to be just one of the Seconds?”

  Kalia frowned. He had just spoken to one of her fears. “Do you understand what happens in the Hall and has for generations?”

  “Tell me.”

  “My father, his father and before him for three generations have been the leaders of the Defenders. So it will be when my father steps aside.”

  Alric shook his head. “How can that be? Robec has never been part of a patrol. I know your father was when he was younger. Robec has never had a bondmate. He has never fought a duel except in practice.”

  “I know about the rules that govern our Guild after they used the mists to enter this land. I’ve read the ancient records. Those ways have ended and there are new ones.” Her hands shook and she clasped them together.

  Alric touched her arm. Where his skin brushed hers their lines met.

  She gasped. “Do you see what’s happening?”

  He nodded. “When I duel I watch my opponent’s lines. Knowing where the lines move allows me to win without killing my opponent. You could do the same.”

  Kalia shook her head. “I won’t use the lines to fight unless I have no choice. I can stop bleeding and sometimes do what you did to my cheek. Once I cleared a blood clot by manipulating the lines. If permission had been granted I would have joined the Healers.”

  “I don’t think you could learn from the Healers. They have different talents. You are a Defender.”

  “I will escape before I’m bonded to a man with lines so dark they suck vitality from a bondmate.”

  “Are you sure that’s what happens?”

  “My father does. I’ve seen my mother’s lines when she returns from a visit. I’m sure Petan did the same thing to his mates.”

  “I’ve seen the lines of Petan and the Swordmaster and believe they are unnatural. What do you know about your mother’s?”

  Kalia drew a deep breath. “When she leaves to stay with him, her lines are as bright as mine. When she returns they’re pale, almost as faded as the lines of the dying. Will you help me escape before I become Petan’s victim?”

  “If you won’t fight I’ll be your champion.” He raised her hand to his lips.

  The wave of heat flowing from his mouth stormed her body and frightened her. How could she accept his offer? As her champion, if he won, the patrols would demand their bonding for the trial period. She dare not think of what her father would do to him during that time.

  “Kalia! What is going on here? How could you ignore my warnings?” Robec tramped toward them.

  She pulled her hand free. “Nothing has happened.”

  Her brother faced Alric. “You will be challenged and banished for taking liberties with my sister.”

  Kalia froze. What would happen if Alric and Robec fought? Robec would lose and their father would explode in fury. “He did nothing other than listen to me. That’s more than you, mother or father have done.” She turned and ran. The need to escape the Hall escalated.

  Chapter 3

  Alric watched Kalia’s rapid retreat. He knew what he must do. Win or lose, he had to offer to be her champion and face Petan in the dueling circle. To challenge Robec was impossible. The Swordmaster wouldn’t allow his son to fight when he could lose. Alric led Storm Cloud to his stall. He turned and saw that the other man remained.

  Would Robec challenge him now? A duel outside the salle would be grounds for banishment. Surely Robec knew but he also knew the rules were different for him. As the Swordmaster’s son he was protected. If they fought no matter who won, Alric knew he would lose. The promise he’d made to his father flashed in his thoughts.

  “You’ve done a forbidden thing,” Robec said. “How did you manage the meeting? Kalia is promised.”

  Alric leaned against the rough wood of the stall gate. “Are you sure I arranged this? I was out for a race with friends. My steed went lame. I returned and found your sister here.”

  “You touched her.”

  “I did. Does the reason matter? Are you one who follows unwritten rules, ones your father invented?”

  Robec rose on his toes. “He is the Swordmaster. He has the right to guide the Defenders.”

  Alric drew a deep breath laden with the aromas of the stable and a sharp scent he didn’t recognize. “I won’t argue with you about your father. Just this. I encountered your sister by accident, not for a tryst. Why are you here?”

  Robec’s gaze darted from side to side. “I came because someone told me Kalia was meeting someone here. You said your bihorn went lame. Have you proof?”

  Alric opened his hand to show the wicked nail. “You can check his hoof and see how the tissue is torn. Your sister was hiding in one of the stalls. She’s afraid of someone or something.”

  “Of being forced into a bonding with you.” Robec said.

  Alric laughed. “Not with me. With your father’s choice. Have you listened when she spoke of that?”

  “What she wants doesn’t matter. The Swordmaster’s orders will be obeyed.” Robec’s ha
nd hovered over the hilt of his sword.

  Alric’s eyes narrowed. Was Robec trapped in a web his father had spun? The lines on his skin flowed in an erratic pattern as though he struggled for control.

  “Why would he force a bond between your sister and a man she fears? Makes no sense unless he’s buying loyalty.”

  “Petan is heart bound to her. He told me that was why his other bonds failed. The women guarded their hearts. My father says every man is entitled to bond with the woman they love that deeply.”

  “But your sister doesn’t feel about him that way,” Alric said.

  “Women don’t matter. What the Swordmaster orders is always right.”

  “Well now, what do we have here?” Petan swaggered into view. “Are you fighting with the Swordmaster’s son?” He grasped Robec’s arm.

  Alric watched the lines on both men’s skin. Robec’s changed to match Petan’s. What had happened? He turned to leave.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” Petan said.

  Robec looked at his friend. “He was here with your chosen.”

  Petan’s laughter held a cruel edge. “Then we have him. Your father will be happy.” Petan’s feral grin sent a chill climbing Alric’s spine.

  “What do you mean?” Robec asked.

  “We have him here. Toss his body with my bihorn. Smell of blood sends the beast into a stomping frenzy. Like magic, no one will know how he died.”

  Robec shook his head. “I want to challenge him tomorrow. He’s said to be the best. When I beat him no one will dispute my right to follow my father.”

  “The Swordmaster won’t like that. If you must duel I’ll be your opponent. If he’s gone I am the best. You beat me and you’ll show everyone how good you are. Your father has agreed.”

  Some quality in Petan’s voice made the words sound false. Was the bully’s plan different from the Swordmaster’s? Alric drew a deep breath and prepared to defend himself.

  The clatter of hooves on the flagstones of the courtyard caused Petan and Robec to step back. Sando and Ganor strolled inside leading their steeds.