Hearts and Swords: Four Original Stories of Celta
Page 26
The first elemental guardian was called and the sacred circle began to be cast and closed. Genista shivered and drew her cloak around her.
This was all very odd. Though the city councilman who now stood in Asant’s place was taller and handsomer, dressed richly and ready to flirt, with that appreciation of her looks in his eyes that she understood, he wasn’t the man who’d gotten her the ticket for the ritual.
He wasn’t Cardus, her Autumn Lord.
There was the distant cry of a child and Genista shivered again. She’d already celebrated Samhain . . . then danced Halloween away. The new year was upon her and she wanted to start it, now. Where she most wanted to be. At home, with Whin and Cardus.
The priestess was coming toward her, wand ready, closing the circle. She was two steps away, then one. Just before she reached her, Genista stepped back and out of the circle, with an apologetic smile to the councilman. The priestess hesitated but continued, closing the circle and leading a song.
Genista moved quickly into the shadows, saw the western door more easily than the others, and slipped into the empty corridor. No sign of Asant. She shrugged. She didn’t know what game he’d been playing, but it was over, and she wouldn’t be caught by any of his words in the future.
Soon she was outside, listening to shouting coming from the public ritual in the sacred grove. They were further along in their simpler ritual than inside the temple, nearly done. Which meant the public carriers would be running soon . . . and the streets would be clogged with people singing and dancing their way home.
She smiled at the thought, but she wanted quiet. So she began to hurry toward her house.
A piercing whistle caught her attention. “Lady, hey, lady! Blessings upon you! Will you be our New Year’s ‘favor for a stranger’?” a young man called out from a heavily loaded passing glider. It was an old generational vehicle, and there was an empty throne-like seat in the second row in the back.
“Where you going?” a girl shouted, giggling.
“Oakview Lane and Danu,” Genista called.
“Nice neighborhood, nice ride!” said another youngster dressed in a fool’s costume. “We’ll drop you there.”
“Sure!”
Two boys came on either side of her. “We have to get on and off while moving; the beast doesn’t like to stop.”
She laughed and let them help her on, though the glider had slowed to barely a walk. She sat in the throne, and someone started a Samhain song, and she joined in with the caterwauling. The “beast” picked up speed, and only a few minutes later, she was dropped off at her corner with hearty well wishes. Twenty seconds later they were gone, leaving heavy quiet in their wake.
Her neighborhood was silent. Most of those on the block were older people who would have celebrated the ritual at dusk in their homes or a local temple. They’d been in bed when midnight rolled around and the clock ticked from year 407 to 408.
Odd noises attracted her attention as she walked down the street, from the opposite direction than she came from work. Loud, rough male voices, an occasional tinkle or jingle.
Her breath quickened, sounded harsh in the quiet air.
Where was Cardus? He was always in his front yard when she came home. Always.
A loud crash echoed through the street. She hurried, saw that her front door was open, light streamed out.
Everything fell into place with blinding clarity, all the clues she’d been too naive, too comfortable to see.
She was being robbed.
She ran past Cardus’s house, zoomed through the open front gate of her property. No spellshields were up. She said the couplet to ensure complete protection and nothing happened. She searched for Cardus. His windows were dark.
He wasn’t home! Shock rolled through her nerves. Every time she’d arrived or left her home since he’d moved next door, Cardus had been in the front yard.
Now, when she needed him the most, he wasn’t.
Steel slipped along her spine, through her bones. Iron pounded through her blood along with determination. She could do this, handle the thieves.
Stealthily she rounded the corner of her house along the hedged side next to Cardus’s home. She was close to the back when Asant grabbed her, jolting her. “What are you doing here!” she cried.
He sneered. “You should have stayed in the ritual circle, not come back. Too bad for you.”
“What—”
His elbow clamped around her neck, cutting her voice off. “To steal all your pretty things, Genista Furze. You have fortune enough in your house for all four of us.”
She’d been right. Thieves.
“Yes, enough gilt for forty, not just us four.” He gloated. “I was to woo you and get you away, you stup fliggering flitch. Then there’s my partner, and a third guy who can get through any spellshield, and the last who knows where to sell your very valuable items.” His hand ran down her body and she shuddered.
Think! Think and make an opening to escape, then act! As she’d been taught.
She snorted.
He loosened his hold; she sensed his energy now, excited and malicious. “You have something to say, flitch?”
“You didn’t do your job, did you?” She put all the contempt she’d ever felt in her tone. “Wonder what your cohorts will think about your failure, and now, you’re adding the crime of assaulting a FirstFamilies Noblewoman.”
He yanked at her like she wanted and she went with his movement, throwing her weight against him, falling . . . and as she fell, her body twisted as it had twisted hundreds of times in practice, and she broke his grip, rolled away and to her feet.
“Weapon!” she snapped, holding out her hand. The sword leaning in her closet slapped into her palm and her fingers curved around the rough hilt. He’d rolled, too, slower. Leapt to his feet, whipped out a long dagger, lunged toward her. She skewered him, followed as he fell, thrust her sword through his upper chest, sinking the blade into the ground.
He made an awful noise and Genista echoed it, her stomach lurching. She’d never put sword in flesh before.
She panted, her palms were damp. She looked at Asant. Her mouth twisted in a way she knew was ugly, but she didn’t care.
The back door to her house was thrown open and she heard voices. More than one. More than two! Asant had actually told the truth.
Laughter, snide remarks. She didn’t know where the closest guardhouse was, couldn’t teleport there. A mental scan of local teleportation pads showed all were in use. She couldn’t ’port to anywhere she knew! She nearly bit her tongue as her teeth clamped down in frustration. She should have visited the nearest damn guard station. She didn’t even know the scry image. Too late now.
She couldn’t even teleport to the Faverels’ shop; she had no idea what it looked like at this time of night at this time of year, no mental visualization.
No lights in Cardus’s house.
She had no real connection to him to mentally call him, did she?
Cardus Parryl! Need you. Home! Her mental cry seemed to echo hollowly.
She calculated how many thieves she might be able to stop. Perhaps one more. If they weren’t fighters. She’d had training but never been in a fight for real. She’d never managed to defeat any of the Hollys, not even when they were distracted, unless they were fighting handicapped. But they were the premiere fighters of Celta.
Face it, she was out of shape and unprepared.
But the home she’d fashioned was invaded, her things being touched and taken. Defiled.
Mean laughter that slivered along her nerves came from her house. Asant was quiet on the ground beside her. She couldn’t even hear his breathing, though his chest pumped raggedly.
Maybe she couldn’t reach Cardus, but she might be able to contact Whin . . . and Whin could call Cardus.
Whin. Thieves. Here. Home! She sent images of the house, the back door open and spilling light, the back iron gate open, all spellshields down.
Asant groaned.
She decided against removing the sword from Asant. Moving as quietly as she could, she picked up his dagger, weighed it in her hand. Her lip lifted as she stared at him. “Badly balanced weapon for throwing.”
His breath whistled out of his nose and mouth.
“I’ll take care of you in a bit,” she said. She’d meant that she’d summon a Healer, but his eyes went wide and rolled back in his head.
Not the stuff that heroes were made of, not even much of a villain.
She crept along the side of her house, deep in the shadows. Stood and peeked around the corner.
“Anyone see Asant?” called a man.
“Lazy fligger,” came a light, Druida City upper-class accent. “We get him in and do all the work.”
A deeper laugh, another noble accent. “That’s right, brother mine, but we’ll get the best.”
An awful cra-ack of something splintering came; the first noble said, “These timers are top of the pyramid!”
“Hey, we should split those—” the first man protested.
Cardus’s house lit up and a shrieking siren bit the air.
Yells from her house. “Get the loot stashed by the back gate!”
“Nista!” Cardus yelled. He leapt over the fence from his back grassyard, rushed toward the three men running from her back door toward the open gate to the park. Cardus’s blazer sliced over the group; grunts of pain came along with vicious swearing.
“Nista, are you all right!” yelled Cardus.
“Yes!”
“Stay there!”
“I’ve tripped over a fliggering dog bone,” the first thief yelled.
Another bolt of blazer blue. One man was down and Cardus was running to her, letting the other two escape. They were black shapes staggering into the night, obviously injured enough that they couldn’t teleport. A low, fast body streaked after them. What’s this? Fun! Prey!
Hunting, and I’m missing it! Whin mind-shouted as he zoomed after them.
As he ran, Cardus pulled a personal scry sphere from his pocket, shouted, “’Tention Gael Guardhouse four! Thieves, Twelve Oakview Lane!”
He stuck the perscry back in a pocket and continued to sweep the area, blazer ready.
To Genista’s surprise she saw bulky shadows pop into existence under the street globe—two guardsmen. They took one look at her open front door and headed in, blazers in hand.
Then Cardus was there and crowding her against the side of her house, keeping his body in front of her, his blazer in one hand, a dagger in the other.
“They’re all gone,” Genista said. “There were four. Asant said so.”
“Asant!”
She wriggled an arm out from behind him and gestured to her left, where the man lay, sword sticking out of him.
Cardus laughed shortly. “Good job, Nista.”
“Thank you.”
She was shivering, feeling waves of cold, then heat. Reaction.
“All clear,” one of the guardsmen shouted from the back.
The other shouted, “Cardus Parryl, are you here?”
“Yes.”
“And the lady?”
“Here and unharmed,” Genista managed with what she thought was a nicely cool tone. “We need a Healer,” Genista said.
“Already called. He’ll be teleporting to my location,” the guard nearest to Genista said. She thought the other one was by Asant’s fallen partner.
“There’s a teleportation pad inside,” Genista said.
“Even better.” Her back door opened and closed.
“There’s some jewels out here,” said the first.
Cardus stepped aside, placed his fingers on the small of her back, urged her toward her back grassyard.
“We must take care of Asant and the other man first,” Genista said.
Cardus grunted. They walked to where a guardsman was putting DepressFlair wristbands on the thief near the back gate. The intruder had brown hair and dark eyes, was average.
“I don’t recognize him,” Genista said, then wondered why she thought she would, just because Asant had targeted her.
They were joined by a Healer, who knelt by the man. “Blazer burn across his back.”
“Mine,” Cardus said.
“Not too bad, I’ll teleport him—”
“I think Asant is worse off,” Genista said.
The Healer blinked at her. “Yes, m’lady.” Glancing at the other officer, he said, “The Captain of the guards will be coming shortly, as soon as the ritual in RoundDome Temple is done.”
Genista blinked. Had events happened so rapidly then? She supposed they must have, but it hardly seemed possible.
“I’ll teleport this guy in,” said the first guard, and the two vanished.
Wild yipping came to her mind. I got one. I got one! Whin shrieked mentally. He ’ported us to the airship place but I hung on. Then I ’ported us to City Salvage.
Cardus relayed the news to the other guard, who scried it in with a suppressed grin. “Someone will pick up the thief at City Salvage. Thank your FamDog.”
The guards thank you, Whin, Cardus sent, and Genista heard him clearly. The three of them now had a strong enough bond to mentally communicate. That pleased her.
Whin said, Only one got away. I heard him say many nasty words. The dog barked in glee, and she heard the echo of it telepathically. He is running, running, running.
Cardus made a disgusted noise.
“My other patient?” prompted the Healer.
Cardus’s lip curled. “This way.” His hand slipped down to hold hers, and she was glad of it.
Asant was still lying quietly under her sword, though he seemed conscious and his breathing was noisy.
“Cave of the Dark Goddess!” the Healer said.
Cardus strode over to the sword. “Say when for me to pull it out.”
The Healer shook his head. “Nasty.”
“You don’t want to cross the lady,” Cardus said mordantly.
Nine
Both the guard and the Healer gaped at Genista.
“You! You were the one who stabbed Asant?” the Healer asked.
She drew herself up, lifted her chin. “I’ve been trained.”
“Of course you would be,” said the guard. He looked at Cardus. “I will have your blazer to check the discharges, GentleSir Parryl.”
With an easy, practiced motion, Cardus drew it, flipped it, and handed it to the guardsman. “Yes. Two blasts. I think both hit—and on the two who escaped, also.” His voice held repressed anger.
The guardsman stared at the long dagger strapped to Cardus’s thigh that didn’t have the blazer holster. “You use that?”
“Nope.” Cardus raised his fists, some of his knuckles were skinned.
“You’ll have to take my sword?” Genista asked.
“For a short time. It will be returned to you or GentleSir Parryl tonight,” the guard said.
“I need to get this guy to the HealingHall.” The Healer once again knelt.
“His name is Amule Asant. Will he be all right?” Genista thought Asant’s gaze moved toward her, but she wasn’t interested in getting any closer to him.
“Sure,” the Healer said. “Fixed up in a septhour, though the damage to his muscle is considerable. Missed the lungs and heart though.”
“That’s good,” Genista said, swallowing. Must have been pure luck.
Putting his hands on Asant’s shoulders, the Healer glanced up at Cardus. “On three, remove the blade and I’ll teleport with Asant to the HealingHall.”
“Right,” Cardus said.
“One, stup thief caught, two, Asant hurt, three!”
Cardus removed the sword swiftly and the Healer teleported away with Asant, but not before Genista heard another terrible moan. She stepped over to the wall of her house and leaned against it.
>
She’d let her training lapse, and now she thought that wasn’t a good idea. The main fighting and fencing salon in the city was owned by the Hollys, of course, her ex-husband’s Family. But there would be others. She’d look into them in the next week—another way to mold herself into the person she wished to become.
Cardus had given the sword to the guardsman, who had translocated it somewhere—to the guard station or laboratory. Again, Genista was ignorant, but in this, she didn’t care to know.
Cardus put his arm around her waist. He wasn’t wearing a cloak, but heat radiated from him, and she leaned into him.
“You’re not hurt, are you?” she asked.
“No.”
The guard turned to them, expression grim. “We’d better look at those jewels now.”
“Dammit, they must have gotten away with valuables!” Cardus said.
She shrugged. “They’re only property.” She looked up into Cardus’s dear face, into those intense emerald eyes, kissed him, then wrapped her arms around him and shuddered against him, murmuring into the curve of his strong neck. “You weren’t hurt. I wasn’t hurt.” She loved how his arms came around her, how she could lean a little against him and he’d know that she might not be strong in this moment, but she’d want to stand tall on her own two feet in a bit. He respected the woman she was forging. And this night had shaped her more. She was pleased with how she handled herself.
She said, “You were wonderful. Thank the Lord and Lady you came and knew the yard.” Steadied her voice and forced a lightness into it. “It pays to have a warrior as a neighbor, after all.”
But his mouth was flat and he was shaking his head. They walked over to where gems sparkled in the bright star and twin-moonslight. Cardus snapped a Word that flashed three spellglobes into existence over their heads.
The cracking sound had been her spellshielded and locked jewelry box, an antique she’d purchased when she’d received her first annual NobleGilt from the councils for fulfilling her duties—in that instance, hostessing a gathering with ambassadors from the other continents of Chinju and Brittany with the FirstFamilies Heads of Households when she was seventeen.