Hearts and Swords: Four Original Stories of Celta

by Robin D. Owens

  “Walker?” T’Ash asked.

  Walker realized the man’s voice had been a rumbling smear of sound that he hadn’t paid attention to. “Sorry. Didn’t catch that.”

  “Yeah, it’s a lot to consider,” T’Ash said. “First I have a Flair strength measure. Hold out your hand.”

  Walker did, and T’Ash dropped a clear, glassy stone in Walker’s hand. He closed his fingers, then stared as streaks of light shot through the cracks. His whole hand warmed and glowed from the stone.

  “Good,” T’Ash said. He held out his hand and Walker let the now-hot stone fall into the GreatLord’s palm.

  Once again T’Ash grunted. “Not as strong as any FirstFamily lord or lady, but strong enough to let you rise from Commoner, past GraceLord to GrandLord status. Welcome to the nobility, Walker Clover.”

  Walker sank against the chair. “That’s it?” The words sounded easy, but his pulse was rapid. As if he were back climbing that mountain with a boulder on his back.

  T’Ash appeared mildly insulted. “My stones are extremely accurate.”

  “Heard that.”

  “It’s true. They don’t make mistakes. I don’t make mistakes.”

  A wheezing laugh came from Zanth at Walker’s discomfort. He noticed the cat kneading his perch, really setting his claws into the tough material and giving it little rips. Maybe there were compensations for not working for the Ashes anymore. Walker wouldn’t have to put up with Zanth’s sense of humor.

  “Now let’s find the nature of your Flair. The way it manifests, is, of course, indicative of your personality, what you are naturally good at.”

  “Appreciate that,” Walker said.

  “That’s what the stones are for. Run your forefinger along each stone starting at the white one in the top left of the box, row one, ending with Celtan Volcanic, the black, in the lower right corner. Got it?”

  “Yes.” Walker sucked in a good breath, then did as he was asked. T’Ash went to sit behind his desk. Now and then Walker felt a pull...or a repulsion, until he got to one that wasn’t stone but metal—solid gold. It clung to his fingers.

  “Hmm,” said T’Ash, but surprise was in his eyes and his brows were up. “Very interesting. Please continue.”

  Walker wanted water. He wasn’t going to say so. When T’Ash glanced down to make some notes on a piece of papyrus, Walker wiped his hands on his trous. Setting his shoulders, he lifted his right forefinger and began where he left off. Now he felt more than just mild tugging or dislike, occasionally sparks lit when he touched an egg, and he gritted his teeth and suffered the mild shock.

  Here and there an egg seemed to drain strength and Flair from him. He began to use three fingertips, just to get through the procedure. Then his hand hit an egg, and once again his fingers curled over the stone, drew the egg from the box. It was warm. And wet. And pulsed as if he held a heart in his hand—which should have been sickening, but was comforting. Maybe because it matched his own heartbeat.

  “What do you have there?” T’Ash asked.

  Grimacing, Walker turned his hand over, but his fingers remained locked tight. So he angled his fist to see the top. The stone shot golden and red light into his eyes. He jolted and dropped it. After blinking away afterimages, he saw it floating over to T’Ash’s desk, where the man lowered it to rock gently next to the golden one.

  “Heart’s bloodstone,” T’Ash said. “First, gold—gift of easy speech and relating. Heart’s bloodstone, dark red with flecks of gold, indicating people.”

  “What does it mean?” Walker asked.

  Three

  It means you’re a born diplomat, will interact well with people.” T’Ash frowned. “This is one of the few testing results that automatically indicates a person should be considered for the position of Captain of All Councils.”

  “No!”

  “Don’t want the job?” T’Ash asked. “I don’t blame you. Councils are all like a congress of cats.”

  Walker felt his face hardening. “Twenty minutes ago I was a Commoner. You know damn well that none of the councils, let alone the FirstFamilies Council, would elect me as Captain.”

  “You’ll have to work your way up, for sure. But by the time my generation is firmly established in our seats, I think we would prefer someone who we knew was good for the job. Like I said, there are prescribed qualities that we have determined would make good leaders.” T’Ash flicked a gesture at the box of stones. “Yours is one of them.”

  “But not the best?”

  Raising his brows, T’Ash said, “No.”

  “With the younger generations all becoming stronger in Flair—” Walker started.

  “Including you,” T’Ash interrupted.

  Walker rolled an itch out of his shoulders, as if he had a target on his back. “Including me—there are undoubtedly people in the FirstFamilies or old noble class who will have equal or superior qualities to mine.”

  “Hmm,” T’Ash said as he opened a drawer and got out a heavy piece of papyrus used for important documents. “That might be. But I think if some of my colleagues in the FirstFamilies Council had the choice between a young, powerfully Flaired person of high noble birth and a nicely Flaired ex-Commoner...”

  “They’d choose the ex-Commoner,” Walker said, “thinking I’ll be easily intimidated.”

  “That’s right, they’d choose you. Though they’d be wrong about the intimidation. They might think you’d be easier to work with, and in that, they’d probably be right.”

  “Huh,” Walker said.

  T’Ash placed his large blacksmith’s hand on the papyrus and said, “Through the power invested in me as Celta’s premier Flair tester, I certify by my Vow of Honor that the results shown below are the outcome of standard testing upon Walker Clover, using the best of my abilities and tools.”

  T’Ash studied the Certificate of Testing and Nobility, a corner of his mouth kicked up. “Diplomacy, people skills. Seems to me you might have done some subtle manipulation of our household while you were with us.”

  “No—” With the fierce blue gaze like a blazer on his, Walker coughed and amended his answer. “Not often.”

  T’Ash smiled, then tilted his head. Walker faintly sensed that the GreatLord was communicating telepathically with his wife on a private mental channel.

  Walker froze at the discovery. He shouldn’t be able to sense that—other than by watching a person’s body language. Just how much was this new Flair of his going to impact his life?

  T’Ash frowned and Walker knew that look. An obstacle had arisen to upset the smoothness of his day. And because Walker knew that expression, he relaxed. Of course he wouldn’t be that sensitive to others. He’d worked in the Ash household for years, knew everyone very well.

  “What’s the problem?” he asked.

  With a sharp look that faded as another smile took its place, T’Ash said, “That’s what you always ask. What’s the problem? How can I help?”

  T’Ash widened his hands. “Your personality showed up in your Flair and testing. Believe me, I’ve always been grateful for your help.”

  “Really?” Walker asked sardonically.

  Laughing, T’Ash said, “Usually. I’m going to miss you handling Nuin. Without you he’s been difficult.”

  “He’s got a lot of his father in him.”

  T’Ash looked pleased.

  “What’s the problem?” Walker repeated.

  “Ah...”

  “Something to do with me, then.”

  “You Clovers are the most prolific Family on Celta.”

  Walker brushed that away. “Everyone knows that. Just tell me the bottom line, T’Ash.”

  To Walker’s surprise, T’Ash opened the drawer again while chanting a short spell under his breath. As he brought out the papyrus, letters wrote themselves on the page, bold and black, finishing up when T’Ash passed the sheet to Walker.

  “Alliance contract between T’Ash Family and Clover Family,” Walker read. He glanced u
p. “I thought things like this were done with handshakes, words.”

  “They are.”

  “Between equals you mean, like you and Holm, the Hollys. Both of you FirstFamily GreatHouses.”

  “I didn’t have an alliance with the Hollys for many years after my friendship with Holm,” T’Ash snapped.

  Walker didn’t know that. He figured there was a huge amount of things he didn’t know. He’d have to come up to speed fast and wasn’t quite sure how he could do that.

  “The contract is not for you and me.” Again T’Ash’s stare bored into Walker. He was used to that and didn’t react. It occurred to him that his training in this household would stand him in good stead in the new and vicious pool into which he’d been thrown. There were a lot of people who ran after a harsh glance from T’Ash.

  “I trust you.” T’Ash leaned back in his chair. “Hell, everyone in my house trusts you, down to baby Dontea. None of us would doubt you or your word.” T’Ash straightened. “This is for your Family and to be filed with the councils. Formal alliance with us—and through us, the Hollys, the Blackthorns, others”—another casual wave of his hand as he named some of the most powerful Families in the world—“would be good to have on file. Don’t you agree?”

  “Yes.” Walker took a writestick from his pocket and signed, pushed the papyrus back to T’Ash and watched him sign the alliance contract.

  Then he translocated it somewhere, probably to the councils’ clerk. “My Family isn’t so stupid as to turn down an alliance with you.”

  “No. You may be the titular Head of Household for your Family as shown in the noble rolls, but you have elders.”

  “Oh, yeah. A lot of them.”

  “And you’ll be figuring out your status with them, too.”

  Walker said nothing.

  T’Ash nodded. “None of my business. But they might prefer to see a contract.”

  “Fine,” Walker said. “Please send a copy to our cache.”

  “Done.”

  “But that’s not what bothered you, so spill, T’Ash.”

  “Yeah, you’re good at this,” T’Ash said. He jerked his head toward the door. “The Clovers are prolific and an up-and-coming Family. You just happen to be the first of your clan who has Flair strong enough to be a noble. Others in your Family will follow. And I’m not the only one who wants alliances.” He actually looked aside, flushed a bit. “We FirstFamiles, nobles, prize children.”

  Walker just stared. “Are you saying that there are others here with contracts?”

  “Yeah. More.” But T’Ash didn’t say another word, just looked red and irritated.

  “I’m not understanding, T’Ash; tell it all.”

  Throwing up his hands, T’Ash bellowed mentally and physically. “Danith!”

  Zanth woke up from a doze, grumbled, then his ears perked up as if he listened to the mental conversations of his Family.

  Now that T’Ash mentioned it, Walker directed his attention—his Flair—to outside the room. His Flair expanded, surprising him, and as it did, he became aware of everyone in the house. The Ashes themselves were easy, he knew them all well. Nuin, his seven-year-old charge, was fussing with his food. If Walker had been up in the student rooms, he’d have packed up Nuin for an outside excursion...The Ashes were easy to focus on, familiar, and so was the minimal staff.

  There were five people in the Residence whom Walker didn’t know. Yet. He’d soon be associating with many nobles. He felt like he was traversing a swamp full of pitfalls. That could kill him. Worse, could harm his Family for generations. He needed better instincts. Training at The Green Knight might hone those instincts. Sharper in physical fighting might make him sharper at meeting other threats.

  Danith D’Ash opened the door. She was flushed and sent Walker an unusually inimical look. “Messing around with people I dislike instead of doing my work. ’Cause of you.”

  Walker donned a hurt expression. “And here I thought you liked me. Does this mean I don’t get a Fam? None of this whole thing”—he swept out an arm—“was my idea. Has Nuin finished his Passage?”

  “Yes, Nuin’s fine. Looks to be a fire mage, like you thought.” Danith tugged at her hair. “And his Passage set yours off, didn’t it? Did I apologize? Sorry, and sorry I was short with you. Of course you get a Fam!”

  “Residence,” Walker addressed the intelligent house.

  “Yes, Walker?” the Residence asked.

  “Tell my replacement to take Nuin out to look at his father’s forge. No touching. No Flair touching.”

  “Yes, Walker.”

  “Also, send a glider to Clover Compound and request that my cuzes Mona and Clypea, who have assisted D’Ash before, come here and help with hostessing and Fam care.”

  “Oh, thank you, Walker!” Danith sat on her husband’s lap, closed her eyes. “I suppose we both can’t stay in here for the rest of the day?”

  “If you let me know what to expect, I can handle it for you,” Walker said.

  “You’re too good,” Danith said.

  He pretended to be. The more he thought about The Green Knight, the more he knew a good fight would release some of his tension at all the changes in his life.

  Danith said, “The NobleCouncil clerk is here, Monkshood. He’s never liked me. Or T’Ash. We don’t like him, either. He’s been sniffing superciliously all over the papyrus that T’Ash has been translocating him. He has that big nasty manual of rules and stuff that new nobles have to memorize.”

  “Ah.” Reading. That might be helpful.

  “And wants to set up a time for your testing on it.”

  Walker smiled. “I’ve always been a quick study.”

  “He’s a pain in the ass,” T’Ash said but made no move to do anything but cuddle his wife.

  “Residence,” Walker said.

  “Yes, Walker?”

  “Have the butler and one of his helpers entertain the Ashes’ guests until my cuzes arrive.”

  “They aren’t guests. They weren’t invited,” Danith said darkly. Then she snorted. “Entertain, our butler can juggle.” She opened her eyes and looked at T’Ash. “Think we should have him juggle for them all?”

  T’Ash’s smile was slow. “Irritate them all.”

  “Who else is here?” asked Walker, standing.

  “D’Grove and her daughter Sedwy,” T’Ash said. He looked straightly at Walker. “She ’ported in right after you, so she has plans for you. Since she was Captain of All Councils, she’d know what your testing results mean.”

  “I asked her why she came, and she just said a lot of nothingness,” Danith grumbled. “After your testing document was given to the clerk and he translocated it, reps from T’Reed and T’Furze showed up. They didn’t say why, either.”

  “But you can guess?” asked Walker.

  Danith made a face, elbowed her husband in his flat stomach. He didn’t react.

  “Ah, um.” She flushed. “It’s a matter of, um, genetics.”

  Walker stared at her. She started talking fast. “The last Commoner who was raised to the nobility and married into the FirstFamiles was me.” A quick smile that was only nerves. “And what with the twins, T’Ash and I have had four children within eight years. Most FirstFamilies rarely have more than one or two children.” Her gaze met Walker’s, deflected. “How many children are usual per couple in your Family, Walker?”

  “Six. Average.”

  “Well, you see, then,” she said.

  “I—” he started, then suddenly he did. “Genetics,” he said flatly.

  “Yes, you will be wooed.” Danith nodded.

  T’Ash grunted. “Our visitors might even have marriage contracts with them. Make sure you get a good deal.”

  Walker sat down again. His insides iced. When his voice emerged it was equally cold. “I won’t consider such an idea.”

  “The FirstFamily nobles will pester, pester, pester you.” Danith looked at him with big eyes. “They do that.”

  “T
he smart ones will have sent reps to Clover Compound to talk to your elders,” T’Ash said.

  Walker was sunk.

  Zanth laughed until he fell off his perch.

  A few minutes later, Walker’s female cuzes had arrived, and Danith reluctantly exited the den to instruct them, then head to her own work.

  Walker had asked permission of the Ashes to check on the children—before dealing with the various other people who had arrived to see him.

  He was walking through an upper gallery around the great hall when a whispered conversation came to his ears.

  “We’ve waited for the Ashes and Walker Clover for nearly fifty-five minutes. I don’t want to stay.” The voice was feminine, impatient.

  “I know you don’t,” said an older woman’s voice. “But you will stay here and you will do as I say.”

  An intimate argument. That must make these two D’Grove and her daughter Sedwy. Intrigued, Walker went to the railing along the loft and looked over. The older woman was a commanding presence, tall and with a good figure. Her daughter Sedwy was about Walker’s age. She had a combination of noble features that made her stunning—straight nose and full mouth, delicate but stubborn jaw, and high cheekbones. Her hair was golden brown and he could tell her eyes were light.

  He liked the looks of her.

  “No, I will not follow your orders indiscriminately,” Sedwy said.

  “Then you should continue building your anthropology career and leave Druida again, take the Chinju project.”

  Sedwy gasped. “You don’t want me here?”

  “Only if you will do something to bolster your reputation.” There was a long-drawn sigh. “You can’t have any objection to Walker Clover, or this little job I’m asking you to do.”

  “Of course I don’t have any objections to Walker. He’s probably an interesting man. But as for this little job, we both know what you want to happen and what motivates you.”

  “What motivates me is love for you. And I’m quite sure that Walker will need a liaison to the FirstFamilies, to nobles. Someone who will smooth the way for him. Someone intimately aware of our habits, our culture, and who can explain such and communicate well. There’s no one better for that position than you, and I can defend that decision before the whole FirstFamilies Council.”