Guardian of Honor

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Guardian of Honor Page 24

by Robin D. Owens


  Bastien smiled wolfishly. All his life he'd learned to demolish mental blocks of others and to work around his own. Whatever was keeping her from feeling the natural emotions she should for him, would soon be gone.

  "Go!" shouted Luthan in a tone that warned Bastien, but which he disregarded.

  Most of the time it was interesting to play with fire.

  He crossed swords with her, starting easy, testing, teasing. As they feinted, riposted, thrusted, he slipped a probe into her mind and sensed the emotional block she had regarding him. There were other blocks, but right now he was only interested in the one with his tune on it.

  She beat back his blade, entered under his guard and sliced his good leather tunic. When he hopped back and looked at her, she was grinning. Sweetly.

  Bastien increased the pace of the fight. They moved well against each other, and would move better together. He heard murmuring from the sidelines as the Marshalls and Chevaliers recognized that their fighting patterns complemented each other, showing that their energies would merge well too.

  Alexa frowned, not understanding. Bastien winked.

  Showing her teeth, she pressed him, making him fight faster, concentrate more on his sword and shield, on his footwork instead of his mental probing. With sheer strength, he deflected her blade with his shield and touched her shoulder with his sword.

  She scowled. Their gazes locked, and through that look, he touched her mind and broke the block she had against him with a piercing whistle. All the emotions she'd suppressed flooded from behind the block—humiliation, rejection, anger.

  Alexa's eyes widened. She stumbled back. He let her go. She shook her head. Her face, her stance, her fighting changed.

  Fire lit her eyes. Energy crackled around her.

  "You jerk!" she screamed.

  He didn't know what the second word meant, or many of the following words, and had no time to think as she rushed to him in a fury, her sword moving faster than his eye could see.

  He reacted on instinct and thanked the Song for his years of training. He'd thought that she might lose her concentration when angry, make mistakes he could take advantage of. The opposite was true.

  Suddenly she was there, totally and completely enveloped in her Power, using it, channeling it, fighting as no one he'd ever seen in his life.

  Wham! A slap of her blade on his shield and he was flat on his back gasping for air, her sword swooping to his heart.

  "Halt!" Luthan cried.

  Her sword point tickled Bastien's chest. He wondered if she was going to carve something on him. One of those words she'd shouted.

  She glanced at Luthan and sneered, stared down at Bastien with the same expression. It sat oddly on her features.

  "I won't lose control," she said.

  Chevaliers and Marshalls poured into the yard, but they all kept a distance from her. She glowed jade.

  As far as Bastien was concerned, she'd already lost control. And too damn bad it hadn't been in bed instead of in a fight.

  A cackle of bird-laughter came from the feycoocu.

  "I came to the Castle to apologize," Bastien said.

  She laughed and threw her sword into the air. It spun high, twirled and sparkled in the light, plummeted down and slid into the sheath at her side with a tiny snick. Bastien had never seen the like. The shadows of the onlookers, which had been nearing, faded back.

  Alexa put her hands on her hips and laughed some more. Then she shook her head, turned on her heel and swaggered away.

  Luthan loomed over Bastien. "Well, brother, I would say that you brought the lady full into her Power."

  Luthan stretched out a hand and Bastien took it, let his brother help him to his feet.

  "You continue to push your luck, and by all the Songs that sound in the Universe, you are lucky."

  Since Luthan was taller than Bastien, he could pull off the trick of their father's and stare down his nose. "You are in trouble," Luthan said cheerfully. "And it will be fun to see you get out of it. It's evident to all—" he swept a hand at the observers "—that you somehow, somewhen became intimate with our new Marshall. And despite your usual charm, you did not endear yourself to her. We will all be watching to see how and if you can fix this latest mess of yours."

  "Go to hell," Bastien mumbled, and limped to the gate.

  She felt great. As if she'd drunk some amazing elixir that had flowed through every vein, simmered down every nerve to energize it. When she took off her helm, despite damp sweat, her hairstood straight out with the static electricity and she liked it. She grinned and danced down the corridors to the stairs to her suite, and when anyone saw her, they got out of her way.

  She almost wanted to meet Reynardus. She thought she could beat him now. She sure had beaten the pants off his no-good son. It had felt really great, and in doing so, it was as if everything she knew of Lladrana and all the qualities that she'd carried from home had clicked together and made her whole.

  Flexing her fingers, she saw the outline of faint blue from her dips in the jerir, then the jade green of herself. Yep. She done good.

  She raced up the stairs and into her rooms, and Umilla was there, bobbing and smiling and helping her with her clothes. The maid seemed to be as happy as she was—sensing her victory, maybe. Alexa didn't think the gossip of her great win would have reached Umilla by now, but who knew?

  Before she went into the bathroom to shower, Alexa carefully penned a note to Luthan. "I want my good food. Now." She put it in an envelope and turned it over. Placing her finger on the front she thought of Luthan's coat of arms and it appeared etched into the envelope in color. She handed the missive to Umilla for delivery, then hit the bathroom.

  Oh yeah, she felt good. She'd whomped both of Reynardus's sons in different ways today. Soon she'd take on the old tiger himself.

  Back in his rooms in Horseshoe Hall, Bastien was grateful that Urvey kept his snickering to a minimum. The squire gasped when he saw the state of Bastien's body.

  "I told you that you were lucky not to come along with me," Bastien said to the openmouthed boy.

  Urvey glanced away but his chin jutted.

  Bastien sighed. "I'm going to bathe. I know you're good with horses—do you have one?"

  Gaze hopeful, Urvey met his eyes. "No."

  "A friend of mine is bringing three." Two had been for himself, the third a gift for Alexa, since Pierre believed it a better mount for her than the one the Marshalls had provided. But it would be a good incentive for the teen to have his own horse. "The sorrel will be yours."

  "Thanks!"

  "Take care of them, and me, and I will send for an old volaran for you to learn to fly on."

  The youth's eyes were filling with tears as Bastien hurried to the communal Chevalier bath in Horseshoe Hall.

  18

  As Bastien stripped and waded into the medium-hot pool in the basement of Horseshoe Hall, he suffered the joking comments on his scars and his latest loss.

  On the whole, he'd spent a lot of time with the independent Chevaliers, or the minor nobles, like himself—knights who were the most dissatisfied with the progress of the Marshalls in repairing the fenceposts and defending the land.

  He leaned back, closed his eyes and let the water lap over him. He'd decided to win Alexa. The idea had snuck up and clobbered him when she'd walked away from the training ground.

  Everything within him told him that Lladrana needed this woman. He'd joined the majority in that. The best way she could be incorporated into Lladrana was to be Paired. So he'd had to decide whether to Pair with her and live with the machinations ofthe Marshalls, or cut the bond between them so she could Pair with another man.

  The thought of her body shuddering in climax under any other man's ignited a storm of jealousy within Bastien. He'd been the first one to have mind- and body-shattering sex with her, and he wanted to keep it that way. He felt possessive. Jealousy and possessiveness weren't emotions he admired or wanted to feel, but they were undeniable
all the same.

  Soaking with other men and women, he sensed their underlying excitement that the rogue of the Chevaliers would soon be inside the Marshalls' inner circle. They were proud of him too, an emotion that threw him a little since he'd only ever felt it from his brother.

  And as usual, as soon as he thought of his brother, the man appeared. He took in the common bath with its dingy brown walls and puddles on the concrete floor with a pained glance.

  Since Luthan had a large estate and was the heir to Reynardus, as well as being the former Representative of the Chevaliers and now the Representative of the Singer, he had a suite in the Nobles' Apartments of the Castle. Still, Luthan stripped, folded and placed his clothes on one of the stone shelves along the side of the room, and sank into the heated water next to Bastien. The others who had been sharing the pool with Bastien discreetly withdrew.

  Luthan moaned in contentment, leaned his head back on the round stone neck-rim and closed his eyes. Bastien smiled at the all-too-human sound.

  "The things I do for you, brother," Luthan said.

  "This bath isn't too troublesome. I know for a fact that the water is hotter and the minerals more efficacious than in the Castle buildings proper."

  No answer.

  "And I don't recall asking you to do anything for me."

  Luthan's eyes opened and he pinned a sharp stare on Bastien. "You always press your luck. I don't know how you get away with it." Then he smiled. "But sometimes you don't. That fight in the training yard will be remembered for a long time. The stuff of tales around encampment fires."

  Bastien grunted.

  Luthan continued. "I trust you have an idea to win her back. You know, there's betting going on as to how long it will take."

  Bastien shifted and leaned his head back too. "I hope you put your zhiv on me, and for tonight. I have a wonderful idea, one that will get me into her suite tonight. Once I am in her suite, I am hopeful the Pair bond will help me out."

  To his amazement, Luthan scowled. "Tonight Alyeka is dining on sweetcheese and roast dinfais fowl and drinking tea from the island of Brasser."

  "Is that so? What time?"

  "In about an hour."

  Bastien nodded. "That will do. I will join her."

  Luthan groaned again, this time with disgust. "That was what Faucon was feeding her when I saved her from seduction. It cost a month's worth of my estate profits to replicate that meal. Now you will partake. I should have known."

  "You really shouldn't do me so many favors, brother. But my thanks," Bastien said softly.

  "I was sure she would fall to his charms that night," Luthan said. "Her concentration was all on him. Ever since she returned from her travels, she's been looking around. You met her then, right?"

  "Yes. I handled it badly. The afterward I handled badly. I was my usual superb self in bed."

  Luthan grinned. "You must have truly bungled, for her to be so angry that she wanted to skewer you."

  "Huh."

  "Be careful of Father. He won't take this news well."

  "I know. He wrote me off as an acceptable son a long time ago."

  "Don't underestimate him. Don't push your luck."

  "I'll try not to."

  An hour later, dressed in a new surcoat of his colors of midnight blue and silver, over equally new trousers and shirt, Bastien strummed the doorharp on Alexa's suite. He was a little surprised when Umilla opened the door a crack. He'd heard, of course, that Alexa had chosen the black-and-white as a personal maid, but had thought Umilla would never retain the post. The woman had fractured energy pulses that she hadn't been able to work around as Bastien had done. Black-and-whites often had mental problems.

  But Umilla held herself with pride.

  "May I see Alexa?"

  Umilla gave him a sharp look. "You say her name right."

  "So do you. We are more flexible."

  She studied him. "You are whole, now, together."

  "Alexa did that for me."

  Umilla shuddered. "I am happy as I am."

  "Each to his own." Bastien wasn't about to tell the woman he hadn't exactly agreed to the change in his circumstances. After examining the entire matter from every angle, he knew that Alexa had felt guilty in curing him without his consent. He could use that too. "Please, just ask her to come to the door to speak to me."

  Umilla looked at his offering. "She will like those." She closed the door on him.

  Bastien couldn't hear Alexa's dragging footsteps, but sensed them. Whatever exultation she'd known after trouncing him was gone.

  The little square door at his eye level opened. She was too short to be seen. "What do you want?"

  "Alexa." He lilted her name. "I have a bouquet of the first spring flowers gathered from my estate and yours. Don't you wish to see what grows on your land?"

  There was silence. A great wistfulness emanated from her. He watched the peephole and saw her face bob up and down as if she stood on tiptoe, then relaxed, then pushed up again.

  "They're beautiful" came from behind the thick door.

  She sighed. People often sighed around Bastien—usually a sign that he'd worn them down and he'd get what he wanted. The door swung open.

  She was lovely. Her hair fascinated him, light and silver and so fine it lifted from her head with her Power. He gave her the flowers. She cradled them like a baby and buried her nose in the scent of them, then stroked a petal or two.

  "Can you forgive me?" he asked, voice low.

  "What do you want?"

  "To lie with you and live with you and Pair with you." His own words scared him, and he wished with all his heart they were having this conversation in bed, where it would have been so much easier.

  "Don't want much, do you? The sex was great, but you screwed up after."

  He winced. "I know. I was wary of all the circumstances. Can we talk about this over dinner?"

  She snorted. "Everyone in the Castle knows that Luthan provided my meal tonight." She glanced back and to her left. "He wasn't stingy. There's enough for three." She turned and disappeared into the narrow curving hallway that led to the bedroom and sitting room. The small passage was a security measure.

  Since she left the door open, Bastien took this for grudging invitation, stepped into the little hallway and closed the door behindhim. Three? Umilla must be joining them. Odd, but endearing. Harder for him to woo Alexa, though.

  "We could continue to have great sex—" Alexa's voice came from the right"—but I don't know about the living together. You don't like the Marshalls."

  He turned and followed the rounded wall until he reached another open door. "I think the Marshalls are secretive and far too proud. I don't have to like them to work with them. There are several Chevaliers I don't care for that I often team with."

  "I see," she said over her shoulder.

  He'd been in other Tower suites that were arranged like this one. This room was large and wedge-shaped, comprising the right side of the Tower. Lush, layered rugs covered the stone floor and tapestries hung between the windows on the wall. A huge painting of Alexa's house graced the wall separating the room from the rest of the Tower. Behind that wall was the bathroom that connected to the bedroom.

  Bastien crossed to the table situated near the outer wall. The tablecloth was cream-colored damask with purple napkins laying under heavy silverware. Three places were set, and a vase for the flowers sat in the middle of the table. He thought the teapot had been moved from the middle to the side.

  Like everything of Alexa's, the room was slightly different from any he'd been in. The atmosphere was imbued with her Song, the furniture set in a cozy pattern, but one that differed from any Chevalier or noble arrangement.

  Discreetly he glanced around. No wine, no ale—only tea. Well, the food would make up for the lack of drink.

  "Too many flowers for that vase, Umilla. Maybe I can have another vase for my bedside table?" asked Alexa, halving the bouquet and putting one bunch on a side table.


  Umilla stared at the vase and the flowers and frowned, as if shestill tried to figure out whether they'd fit. Then she screwed up her face.

  As Alexa arranged the rest of the flowers in the vase with surprising artistry, Umilla said, "I told Bastien's boy. He will bring another vase. One that will look good in the bedroom."

  "Thank you, Umilla," Alexa said, then glanced at Bastien. "Your boy?"

  "My squire, Urvey."

  "Oh, Urvey. I know him. I didn't know he was your squire. I thought Faucon had taken him on."

  "He's mine." Bastien smiled ruefully. "Time to live up to my responsibilities, I think."

  That brought an approving look from her, but he wanted more, needed more if he was going to overcome his previous mistake and grace her bed tonight.

  "Your stableman, Pierre, is doing me the favor of bringing in a horse for him. Urvey is good with horses. I have no qualms in giving him one of my steeds."

  She sent him a sharp glance as if unsure of his motives.

  He smiled.

  "You going to seat me?" asked Umilla, standing in front of an ornately carved wooden chair with a plush velvet seat. The sweetcheese in pastry, now on the table, steamed with a tantalizing odor.

  Bastien swallowed and crossed to seat Umilla.

  She smiled up at him, her eyes wickedly sharp. She would never lose this position, and she would always claim whatever prerogatives the Exotique would grant, against all class and tradition. He bowed his head in acceptance. She was a Power in Alexa's life. Another black-and-white had found her true place—and with the Exotique.

  When he turned to Alexa, she'd already seated herself. Shelooked at him with considering eyes, though the Song between them had taken on a warmer tone, a richer note. She liked him, at least. That and the sex would be a good basis. If he didn't make a mistake. If he could bring some grace into the process of winning her again.

  He sat, unfolded his purple linen napkin and laid it on his lap.

  "Bastien will sing the thanks to the Song, tonight," Umilla said.

  His eyes widened. He cleared his throat and stared at the cooling sweetcheese, trying to think of a short gratitude. A brief one thanking the Song for the bounty of the land and good friends came to mind and rustily he opened his mouth and sang.

 

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