Hearts and Swords: Four Original Stories of Celta

by Robin D. Owens

  “Constantly changing,” Nuin ended. One last hug and he donned a quiet manner that appeared to be a copy of Walker’s and joined Heath Honey. Heath nodded to the boy and followed him out of the open door.

  At the last moment, Heath turned his head. “Thank you!”

  Walker nodded, but his expression was no longer light. As soon as Heath closed the door, Sedwy saw his hands fist, his face fall into torment.

  “I hate this.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said and felt helpless with worthless words.

  He jerked his head in denial, sucked in a breath, walked stiffly over to the window, and stared out. “The change was so abrupt.” His mouth twisted. “Just this morning I...”He tapped his fingers on the window. “No, it’s been the past week, but that was taken up with Passage.”

  He met her gaze with a dark gray one of his own. “You know that my birth mother was a Heliotrope?”

  “Yes.”

  “I didn’t. Not until this morning.” Walker’s shoulders rolled as if he shifted new burdens.

  Sedwy didn’t think he could become accustomed to all his new responsibilities so soon. She put a hand on his arm. “Like the Residence, I think you’re coping with the changes in your life very well.”

  “I agree,” the Residence added.

  Walker shrugged. “Too late now. No going back. Everything’s altered.” He looked out the window again. “I have a good idea of what Clover Sacred Grove would look like, and there’s a small teleportation pad there, and it’s not in use, but I don’t want to risk it.”

  “I don’t know that part of town at all,” Sedwy admitted.

  “Walker,” said the Residence. “One of our gliders is in the front, waiting for you and GrandMistrys Grove.”

  “Thank you, Residence,” Walker said. He offered his arm to Sedwy, with just the right deference, and she took it. When they left the room, the door shut quietly behind them and Walker’s face went immobile, then he led her down hallways and flights of stairs and finally through the great hall and to the front door. They didn’t speak, and she knew he was closing other doors—doors of the past behind him, bracing himself for the future.

  Change and a future that she now understood he hadn’t wanted.

  She wondered how that was going to affect them...affect her.

  Six

  During the glider ride, Lucor roused from his nap and kept both amused. Sedwy was glad to see Walker smile again, especially since she extrapolated that his time with his Family might be difficult. Perhaps even more difficult than her meeting Trif Clover Winterberry again and apologizing. Again. She could never apologize enough to make up for what the people she’d thought of as her friends had done.

  Several minutes later the Ash glider stopped in front of a solid line of houses on the right and a large park on the left. There were no side yards between the buildings and no doors facing the street, though window placement and roof lines varied, showing individual houses. Most were colorfully tinted. The door to the vehicle lifted, and Walker slid out and offered his arm to her.

  I’m here! I’m here! The mental voice was loud and boisterous and male. A young red fox zoomed from the park to them, spun in a circle that had it blurring, then sat two centimeters from Walker’s boots, panting and tongue lolling. I am Argut, Fam to GrandLord Walker Clover, and I am HERE!

  Walker laughed. “Greetyou.”

  Argut lifted his paw. Greetyou.

  Hunkering down, Walker stared into the dark brown eyes and took his Fam’s paw lightly in his fingers. The pads were smooth and warm.

  “Greetyou, Argut.” Then he tried it mentally, Greetyou, Ar-gut.

  Argut swiped his tongue over Walker’s fingers and Walker laughed again. He stood and Argut did, too. The fox sniffed Lucor Fam’s carrying case. Who is in here?

  The flap opened and Lucor peeped out. Eee! Eeek! The squeal was mental as well as physical. Lucor disappeared fast.

  Sniffing at the bag, Argut said, I will not hurt you. You are no more than a mouthful, and not plump.

  Walker choked on laughter.

  Sedwy lifted the pouch and angled it so that Lucor could creep out on her arm, settle in her palm, high above Argut, though Walker thought Argut could get that mouthful of housefluff if he really wanted.

  Walker said, “Glad to see you, Argut.”

  The fox switched his gaze from the young housefluff to Walker, seemed to grin again. Vertic fox who lives here and across in the park helped me teleport in jumps here. So I could meet my FamMan! Celebrate!

  “For sure,” Walker said, kept his mouth smiling as it faded from his eyes. His Fam was better than he at both telepathy and teleporting.

  It was a very hungry trip, Argut offered.

  “Ah. Well, the Clover cooks have food in the no-time for Vertic—” And Argut was off, bushy tail waving. Walker sent mentally to his Fam, Play when you wish. Walker was rewarded by excited yipping.

  Thank you, FamMan.

  I might like him, said the tiny Lucor, nose wiggling. I do not think he will eat me. None of the FamFoxes at Danith’s ate me.

  “Nope, you’re still here,” Walker said.

  “I’ll protect you,” Sedwy promised.

  FamWoman is wonderful.

  Sedwy’s expression softened, and Walker wished the tenderness that she was aiming at Lucor was his own, that she caressed him the way she petted her Fam.

  She was a very dangerous woman.

  “Hey, Walker!” a man yelled, and Sedwy saw a guard in front of the large door.

  A young man of about twenty, with a blazer at his side, waved as they walked toward him.

  “Hey, Cago. This is GrandMistrys Sedwy Grove, who is a guest and my teacher and liaison to the nobles.”

  A quick, charming grin from Cago as he bowed to her. “Must be interesting to be the student instead of the teacher.”

  “Always,” Walker replied.

  Cago made a face, waved open the heavy double doors. “Go on in. It’s crazy in there. Tell Barton I’m fine for another shift out here.”

  “Guard duty outside the doors?” Walker asked.

  “From now on.” Cago threw out his chest, grinning. “We’re nobles now!”

  “I heard that,” Walker said.

  Cago laughed.

  Taking her hand, which had Cago’s brows raising, they entered a wide, cold corridor built between and under the houses. There were doors to her right and left to each section, and open double doors to a courtyard at the end of the passageway.

  “Doesn’t seem too secure if the other doors are open,” Sedwy murmured.

  “No.” Walker sighed. “We like to cultivate being an open and friendly family. We make and sell furniture, so that’s been a priority.”

  A rush of loud sound, shouting voices all at once, hit them. “And we are an open and friendly family.”

  “Emphasis on the first initial, Walker. Family.”

  “Yes.”

  They stopped at the end of the corridor. People colorfully garbed arranged huge tables, putting linens on them, plates and glasses, gleaming silverware. There was no snow in the block-long courtyard, and Sedwy glanced up to see the thin wavering air denoting a weathershield.

  Walker followed her gaze. “It’s an expensive spell but a priority for the family...for the Family. This is our main gathering place.”

  “So I see.”

  He tugged her hand, and they stepped into the courtyard that was actually warmer than the passageway had been. No wonder with all the people gathered...and moving.

  He turned to shut the doors, and a middle-aged woman shrieked, “Not the doors. We need them open.” She hurried to them, and from the way people parted, and Walker’s body angled, Sedwy determined that the woman—the GrandMistrys—was the alpha female of the Clover culture.

  “Aunt Pratty, security,” Walker said.

  She snorted. “All the children are here and they’re wildly excited; you don’t think they’d send out an alarm if they saw a
stranger?”

  Even as she spoke, a large clump of various-sized young people ran by. Sedwy had never seen so many together except at grovestudy. And they were all Clovers. Amazing.

  “There is that,” Walker said.

  “Coming through!” shouted a man behind them.

  Walker stepped closer to Sedwy and nudged her out of the walkway, into the courtyard, and to the side. Two large men, guiding equally large potted trees with an anti-grav spell, passed Walker and her and Pratty.

  “In the northwest corner for a conversation area!” Pratty ordered.

  Tall trees grew in the courtyard, branches bare in the weak winter sun and being decorated with low-Flair-and-tech fairy lights.

  “Staggered greenery adds interest,” Pratty said. “There’ll be potted plants, too. We’ll have a few noble visitors talking to our young ladies tonight.” Her eyes narrowed at Sedwy. “Sorry, my manners! Have we met?”

  Sedwy curtsied, lower than she should, but she would always be lower than this woman.

  “This is GrandMistrys Sedwy Grove,” Walker said. “She’s to help shape me into a Nobleman and be my liaison with the FirstFamilies and higher noble class.”

  Pratty’s smile faded and her face fell into harsher lines worn by worry and fear. Sedwy was all too aware that she indirectly carved those lines.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  The woman jerked from her reverie, waved an impatient hand. “Not your fault.”

  They both knew she was being gracious. Sedwy said, “I’d like to apologize to Trif again, too.”

  “Not necessary.” Pratty nodded to them and took off diagonally across the courtyard to supervise the arranging of the trees.

  Sedwy looked up at Walker. “It is necessary.”

  He nodded. There were questions in his eyes, but he said nothing, knew that they should not be speaking of private matters in the courtyard where people milled close and children had big, listening ears. Not that Sedwy’s part in the whole Black Magic Death Cult had been hidden. His gaze slid around the ever-moving Clovers. “Ah, there she is.” Linking Sedwy’s arm in his own, he began walking to the right. Soon two people blocked their path. Walker resembled the older man. The woman had blue eyes and soft brown hair and features Sedwy had seen on a child or two, but not Walker.

  “My parents,” Walker said.

  They relaxed a little, though their arms still wound around each other’s waist. They moved easily like that, were obviously lovers and still loved.

  Sedwy’s heart twinged.

  Walker was continuing, “My mother, Fen Clover, and my father, Nath Clover.” A hint of strain ran through his tone and the couple tensed again.

  The revelation of an unknown adoption was a tough situation all around. “This is my liaison with the nobles, Sedwy Grove.”

  Sedwy curtsied. Both older Clovers bowed.

  “A pleasure,” rumbled Nath.

  “Welcome to Clover Compound,” Fen Clover said, and Sedwy sensed a rush of embarrassment through Walker. Because he hadn’t said those words?

  “We need to speak with Trif,” Walker said.

  Nath cleared his throat. “A minute. We received your notice of nobility. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.”

  “We knew you could do it! Wonderful Flair.” Fen blinked rapidly and made a motion toward Walker, who withdrew a little. She swallowed and beamed a bright smile.

  “Thank you, Mother,” Walker said formally.

  Sedwy thought he hadn’t often called her mother.

  Nath said, “We got your formal alliance with T’Ash and are very pleased. Two gallants arrived with other proposals.” Now Nath smiled. “Pink is stacking up the contracts and proposals on his desk, not wanting to review them until tomorrow.”

  “Good news,” Walker murmured, his shoulders lowering from high tension.

  Fen lifted her chin. “Yes, this celebration must not be marred by business.”

  Sedwy slid her eyes toward Walker, met his gaze that had slipped toward her. They both knew Fen was naive in this.

  “Trif,” Walker prompted.

  “Oh, yes.” Fen scanned the courtyard, then her brows lowered, she glanced at her wrist timer. “Nap time for her.”

  “Oh,” Walker said, looked down to where Sedwy realized her fingers squeezed his arm. A brief smile crossed his face. “She’s very pregnant.

  We’ll have a new Clover shortly.”

  “It would be lovely if it were a Yule baby,” Fen said. Words that seemed to be standard. Her eyes searched Walker. He didn’t meet her gaze.

  “Why don’t you show Sedwy around the compound,” Nath said, too heartily.

  “We’ll eat dinner early,” Fen said.

  “We closed the furniture workshops as soon as your nobility was confirmed.” Nath’s chest expanded. “Though the store is still open, of course.”

  “Of course,” Walker said.

  “Pink’s thinking of moving the location to something more upscale.”

  “Of course,” Walker repeated. He looked at Sedwy, and his smile, while a faint curve of the lips, was sincere. “Come along, GrandMistrys. Let me show you how the Clovers live.”

  “That would be wonderful.” She smiled at Walker’s parents. “I’m an anthropologist by training.” And she’d studied cultures since the murders.

  No more delving into the dark side of Flair.

  “See you in a couple of septhours,” Fen said, then switched her sad gaze to Sedwy. “The party will have food and wine, too, but dinner is always important.”

  “Yes, Mother. Father.” Walker nodded, pressed Sedwy’s hand against his side, and they moved away.

  “Two septhours! To see the compound?”

  Walker chuckled. He seemed unaware that his parents were still watching them. “Well, sure.” His tone changed as if lecturing. “The Clover Compound comprises three large Celtan blocks. This is the main courtyard. We also have a smaller courtyard where the Family’s sacred grove is located. Houses are continuing to be built along the other blocks as needed, but this area is complete...”

  They strolled through the courtyard, and Walker named the row houses that belonged to each portion of the Family: Pink’s, Mel’s, Nath’s...Trif Clover Winterberry and Ilex Winterberry’s... Sedwy made note of that one. His explanations were clear. She saw the mainspaces of the Family, the gathering rooms, the guest wing. They stopped for chunks of homemade bread in the huge kitchen.

  The rest of Walker’s close Family made a point of hugging him, talking to him. Those his age gave him significant and supportive looks, and Sedwy deduced that they were standing with Walker against the elders in some issue.

  Walker accepted their affection, returned it, but Sedwy caught him scrutinizing each of his two sisters and brothers. Each did have some feature bequeathed by Fen—the blue eyes, her smile, the way her ears were set. One of Walker’s sisters held an infant and was married and living with her husband’s family. Walker’s other sister was about twenty and had a gleam in her eyes when she introduced a gallant who was there to celebrate with the Clovers. Since the young man had a matching gleam, and a possessive arm around her waist, Sedwy thought there would be a wedding before spring.

  When they met Barton Clover, the closest in age to Walker, some of the tension in him drained away, and Sedwy was glad of it.

  Barton moved like a fighter, and Sedwy learned he worked at The Green Knight, and some of the Clovers had trained there, including Walker.

  That explained the way Walker bowed and some of his mannerisms. Barton accompanied them as Walker pointed out the three doorways to the compound from the outside world.

  It was a world in itself.

  A world that was changing as she watched. The Family culture of the Clovers was different today than it had been yesterday. Now they were noble and they knew it.

  The buzz of ambition rose through the members, infused the energy of the Clovers as a group.

  Sedwy smiled. She highly approv
ed of ambition.

  Finally the early winter night was falling and the lights along the walls of the courtyard came on. The place was well decorated, and Walker decided the Family, especially the ladies, were getting a head start on Yule. Trees blinked shades of green and red, white and gold from the small lights in their branches. That spell was known by enough people that it was easy—and much of the Flair that had been used was simple, funded by the excitement of the Family. Now and again, Walker had felt a pull on his own Flair as Pratty or his mother used a greater spell—for cleaning the flagstones of the courtyards and polishing them, then making them non-skid. That had never happened before. As he considered it, he thought that the pull might usually go to the Flair infused in the compound during the quarterly rituals, but since he was better connected to the women, it had come to him. And he’d shared his Flair. It hadn’t weakened him much, and his psi power seemed to refill as the Family swirled around him, emitting energy. Still, something to ask Sedwy about. He was making a mental list.

  Walker and Sedwy were led to the head table, away from the third one in line where he usually sat. At least he wasn’t seated at the top, but at Pink’s right hand. As he filled his plate with feasting food—tender roast furrabeast, fat white tubers fluffy and herbed in their own skin, his favorite greens—he pondered whether he’d have to make a point that he was the Head of the Household. Reluctantly he decided he would. He didn’t want to be the first noble of the Family. Didn’t want to be the Head of the Household, didn’t want to run the Household, but that was his job now.

  Damned Cave of the Dark Goddess. Automatically, he turned the curse into an equally reluctant blessing. Bless the Lady and Lord for their abundance.

  That he could well have done without.

  Sedwy was holding her own in conversation, mostly with Walker’s cuz Mitchella and her husband, FirstFamily GrandLord Straif T’Blackthorn, both of whom were in great spirits.

  Though Sedwy often glanced at Trif, who looked pale and was picking at her food. Trif’s guardsman husband was out on a case. Something between Sedwy and Trif, but Walker was patient enough to find out later.

  After dinner, the tables were cleared by the teens—who could be trusted with the good china—while the children handled the linens. The tables were shoved near the walls of the courtyard. Everyone was full of food, but in about a septhour more snacks would be laid out. The wine that had been served with dinner would be replaced with the best in the Clovers’ cellars for celebratory toasts.