He was far from accustomed to being the center of attention. In fact, he’d never been the center of attention. Barton had been the outstanding one, the one with the drive to prove himself with the Hollys. Walker supposed he’d become accustomed to the feeling, but he didn’t like it.
Sedwy stayed close beside him, and he liked that very much. Trif had disappeared into her own house with her four-year-old son. After a dismayed glance, Sedwy had slipped her hand into his elbow as each person came up to congratulate him. He liked the hugs of the under-ten crowd the best, their artless questions—though he didn’t have many answers for them.
Then a flushed Uncle Pink strode to the center of the courtyard and yelled for quiet.
Walker drew in a great breath beside her, and Sedwy followed his gaze to where the alpha of the clan, Pink Clover, stood in the middle of the courtyard, shouting for silence. After a couple more times, people stopped talking.
Pink strutted, thumbs in the top of his pants. “Nobles, us. Pretty good for a new Family that only came to being a century ago.” He grabbed a wineglass and raised the glass. “To the Clovers! Descendants of the lowest maintenance tech on Nuada’s Sword! Lady and Lord Bless Us!”
The inner courtyard roared.
Walker shouted beside her, drank off his wine. Sedwy did the same, eyed a wall to send her glass shattering.
Excited babble rose again and people pressed around her and Walker, all gesturing with empty glasses.
“They didn’t throw their glasses against the walls,” she murmured.
Walker angled his head away from an excited teen who was hopping around him, patting and congratulating him and asking if she could be apprenticed to D’Thyme. He put his hand on the youngster’s shoulder, looked at Sedwy. “Break good crystal? Why?”
“To celebrate the moment, a drink to the moment that will never come again? The glass will never hold a drink so important again?”
The small group around them quieted and stared at her. The girl, who probably had her first taste of wine, clutched her glass to her small bosom.
“It was an Earthan custom,” Sedwy explained weakly.
Walker put his arm around her shoulders, and she felt warm and accepted, part of the group once more. An individual in this mix of individuals who were melded into a Family.
“Always knew our ancestors were crazy,” Pink said. Chuckling, he carefully placed his glass on the table beside them. “Who else would go on a starship away from their home instead of staying solidly on the planet?”
Another small shock trickled through Sedwy. She was descended from Earthans who had psi power and had scraped together every bit of gilt that they had to finance the journey to and colonization of a new world. And every born FirstFamily person she’d ever met held the belief that their ancestors had been brave and right. Her mouth fell open.
Walker’s brows lifted in question.
“Was your ultimate Celtan ancestor really the lowest maintenance tech on Nuada’s Sword?”
One side of Walker’s mouth slanted up. “Don’t know. To our Family, the past isn’t as important as the future.”
“It may make a difference to the nobles. We need to understand what slurs we might be fighting.”
Snorting, Walker gestured widely with the hand not curved around Sedwy’s shoulder. “Is that so? Our past will outweigh our fertility?”
Feeling defensive, something that hadn’t happened in a long time, something that shouldn’t happen to a true scholar, Sedwy’s mouth pinched before she said, “You don’t know as much about nobles as you think.”
He squeezed her shoulders again, spoke quietly. “I never thought I did.” His eyes grew thoughtful. “You think the GraceLords and -Ladies I passed in rank will hold my Flair against me.”
Seven
Sedwy replied, “Many GraceLords and -Ladies have held their titles since the first century of colonization. Yes, I do. Though since you have a GraceMistrys as a mother, they won’t target you as much as your Family.”
His arm dropped away, and he inclined his head. “Then we will fashion a way to protect my Family.”
“Spoken like every noble Head of Household I’ve ever met,” she said.
He turned a brooding glance on the joyfully singing, dancing, and celebrating members of his Family spread out through the inner courtyard.
“We are not equal in our Flair. Some of my cuzes can just work the Flair tech that everyone uses.” He rolled his shoulders, nodded with his chin at a caged-off area with a locking door. “Teleportation pad. A few of us can teleport.”
“Why the cage?” She squinted. “And is there a slippery-shield on it so it can’t be climbed?”
“It’s too dangerous. The children can’t resist the temptation to jump on the teleportation pad. We put another play pad in an opposite corner.”
He pointed. “And we have one inside in the play area, but that still won’t stop the odd child from hopping on an unsecured pad impulsively.”
Her throat simply closed. “That could lead to death.”
“Yes, at the worst.”
Something in his tone told her there was more to the story.
“What?” she asked.
“That reminds me, twelve of us, personally and individually, owe Guardsman Ilex Winterberry a favor. The man is married to my cuz Trif. Guess you should know about those favors.”
“Yes. I should know of any debts to nobles, and he’s a close connection to the Hollys and a GrandSir in his own right. What reminded you of that?”
Walker winced. “We had an incident of children bouncing on the pad when the light showed it was open for teleportation.”
Sedwy gasped a breath.
“Thus, the cage.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll get the names of the offenders. I don’t recollect each one, though I do know the oldest is seventeen and the youngest is seven. You’d better draft a list of items that you need from me, Family history, et cetera.”
“Your birth certificate is the first,” Sedwy said absently.
Walker flinched beside her. Then he grabbed her hand and hustled her into the darkest area of the courtyard, a small space beside a large tree with a seat around it. The area was black with shadow.
“My birth certificate,” he said heavily. “I’ve never seen it. Now I know why.”
His stress built her own. “I’m sorry.” She knew he needed to talk the hurt out some more, waited.
“I didn’t know my birth mother was a noble, a GraceMistrys, until I was told after my Passages. This morning.”
Sedwy leaned against him, and his arm came around her almost absently. Unlike most nobles he had plenty of sisters, and she’d already noticed that the Clovers were the kind of people who touched often.
But she was pretty sure already that she didn’t want Walker Clover to think of her as a sister. Still, he needed to talk, and touch, and she could be supportive.
“I always thought I was the son of Nath and Fen Clover. Didn’t know m’father had had an affair before he and Fen married. Didn’t know GraceMistrys Latif Heliotrope was my natural mother.”
His words held an edge of inner bile that Sedwy knew all too well. Family hurting Family. She struggled to find words, but he continued raggedly. “Regarding the birth certificate, I don’t even know when I was born. Different than when I was told, for sure. My Nameday is in the month of Oak.”
“A good solid month.”
His laugh was short. “Probably why they waited until then.”
She cleared her throat, put a load of sympathy in her words. “You finished your Third Passage and learned this information this morning.”
“Yes.”
Her legs simply gave out and his arm stayed around her as she lowered to the seat around the tree. Then he let go and took the three paces to the edge of the shadow and back. After a couple of breaths of silence, she said, “I’m shocked.”
“I’ll point out that my Family, the Commoner Clovers”—again the edge of bitterness
—“weren’t the only ones who kept their mouths shut. I never heard a word from the Heliotropes.”
“Not that.” She reached up and brushed his hand with her own; his fingers clasped hers and she tugged. He sat beside her. She couldn’t really see his face in the dark, but could feel his seething emotions. “You Clovers are a tough bunch.”
“Yeah.” He let out a breath in a sigh. His head turned to watch a group of youngsters stream by, shouting at the tops of their lungs. “I was like that,” he said.
“What?”
“Just one of the Clover boys, same as everyone else my age. With brothers and sisters. Now I’m not, and I’ll be treated differently, even by my brothers and sisters.”
“This new information for you,” Sedwy said evenly, “must have been difficult to bear.”
He just pushed out a hard breath.
“Your Family disappointing you.”
She saw the rise and fall of the dark line of his shoulders in a shrug. The darkness and his pain and the circumstances pulled words from her.
“I’ve been on the other side.”
“What?”
“I’ve been the cause of huge disappointment to my Family.”
He echoed her. “What!”
She gazed straight into his face but couldn’t see his eyes, could barely note his puzzled expression. “A few years ago I was involved in a great scandal.”
“I don’t recall that. When?”
“Four hundred and five, autumn. The Black Magic Death Cult.” She laughed and it wasn’t as casual as she wanted it. She still hadn’t gotten over being betrayed by a good friend, of having such poor judgement as to trust people who deceived her. “I study culture. At the time I was fascinated by the dark side of Flair.”
“You weren’t part of the cult. All but one of them were caught and died, and the one who escaped was a man.”
“That’s right. But they used my knowledge to craft their filthy rituals.”
Walker’s intake of breath was harsh. “My cuz Trif was targeted, nearly died on their altar. That’s why you want to apologize to her.”
“Yes. Apologize again, I talked to her after the tragedies. She was very gracious.” She’d been very young and in love and had bounced back from the terrible events more than Sedwy could imagine. More than Sedwy had. “My best friend almost killed Trif, and I didn’t even know my friend was bad.”
A few more heavy breaths from Walker. When he spoke again, he still sounded angry and upset. “They used you.”
He was concerned about her? Everyone outside of her Family was concerned about what the circumstances looked like.
“Yes, they used me. I knew nothing of their terrible activities. But my reputation was besmirched all the same. Since then I’ve been studying small towns.” Another humorless chuckle. “I’ve learned a lot, written and published my studies, am considered a scholar, but not respected by anyone other than a few colleagues.” She lifted her chin. “But I earn my NobleGilt salary from the councils. No one can deny that.”
“In 405 I was just hired by the Ashes to tutor Nuin. It was a busy time and I didn’t pay attention to much else—until Trif was rescued and all was well.”
“Then you rallied around with your Family.”
“Yes, of course, that’s what Family does.” His arm came around her shoulders and he squeezed, and she was aware of the warmth of his body.
“Your mother has rallied around you.”
The hard ball of tension within Sedwy loosened a bit and she found her lips curving. She hadn’t thought she would smile about her mother’s interfering ways. “She only has the two of us, my sister and me. The other Groves that work in the Residence aren’t close to us. So Mother tends to hover.” She added something she knew Walker would identify with. “She takes her responsibilities seriously.” Sedwy patted her carrier where Lucor slept. He’d played and was tired.
Walker looked into the courtyard, where the Clovers were getting even louder. Some of the young men had set up a wrestling match. They were beautiful. All of them. Beautiful in their numbers.
When he spoke, he’d changed the subject, and Sedwy was disappointed. “I suppose I might hear something from the Heliotropes now,” he said.
“I’m sure they were informed by the NobleCouncil clerk when the results of your Flair testing was filed.”
He stiffened beside her.
“We’ll talk about how to handle that, too.” She sighed. “As for your own mother and father.” She chose her words carefully. “I think you did well when we met them.”
“Thank you.”
“Sooner or later you’ll have to speak to them, and without anger entering into it.”
“I know. But it’s going to be difficult. They lied to me my entire life.”
“They only wanted you to be treated like one of the Clover boys.”
Air-splitting shouts rose and bounced around the walled courtyard as the final wrestling match was won and a boy stood up, sporting a bloody nose.
“I was always just one of the Clover boys. Not the strongest, or the brightest, or the fastest. I was happy with my job at the Ashes and my life.”
He was talking in past tense; no matter how great the shock, as she’d said, the Clovers were tough. He was already moving on. That was good.
Then his tone sharpened and he sat straighter, looked at her. “So, Sedwy Grove, you’re going to be my liaison and teacher.”
“So it seems.”
“What do you say to staying here with us?”
“What?” She was jolted to more awareness of him, the scent of him, a hint of perspiration added to his fresh-grass fragrance; his lean strength.
Despite what he said, she thought he was a very strong man emotionally, and flexible enough to survive the blows of the day.
His hand moved in a wide curve. “Stay here with us. Observe us Clovers. You can document how a Commoner family changes into noble.”
“Are you serious?” A thrill went through her as she thought of staying with Walker, relief at avoiding her mother. Those were emotional reactions and he was trying to appeal to her scholarship. She set her mind to follow his, and what she’d considered earlier. These were unique circumstances. The Clovers would be changing, their interactions, their Family culture. Fascinating.
“Yes, I’m serious.” He eyed her. “My cuz Mitchella D’Blackthorn keeps some clothes here. There are others about your size. You could get a nightgown or whatever.”
He didn’t even want her teleporting home? She gave that an instant’s thought. He might be delaying her report to her mother. She’d like to put that off until tomorrow, too.
“Stay tonight and for breakfast. I’ll arrange a guest room—suite—for you.”
“I suppose I could get clothes and my work tools tomorrow.”
Walker lifted her hand to his mouth, kissed her fingers, and she felt it all the way to her core, a nice steamy, melting sensation. It had been a long time...
“Stay, Sedwy.”
She wanted to ask if he’d come to her door that night. Thought he might not, and felt ambivalent. Yes, there was attraction, but they’d just met.
The man had just finished his Passages—notoriously emotionally difficult—and three at once. She shouldn’t be considering that they might have a nice bout of sex tonight. “Yes,” she said.
He nibbled her fingertips and it felt far too good, then he carefully placed her hand on her lap and stood. “Thank you.” His shoulders squared against the darkness.
“Mona!” It was a low call backed by Flair to a person who might have only minimal psi power. Sedwy was impressed at Walker’s control, and not surprised when one of the young women she’d met earlier glided up to them with a smile.
“Here, Walker,” Mona said.
“Can you have the southwest corner guest suite prepared for GrandMistrys Grove?”
Mona’s brows lifted and she turned her smile on Sedwy. “Sure. Good to have you stay here. Welcome to Clover C
ompound.”
“Thank you.”
Mona nodded, looked back to Walker, and winked. “You know, Walker, I didn’t care too much for that Reed guy.”
“Your choice, Mona.”
Her smile widened into a grin. “Glad you’re thinking that way. Uncle Pink liked him fine. Bu...ut—”
“Yes?” Walker said.
“Both the Reed guy and the Alder man came, and I do like Japon Alder.”
“Didn’t Alder accompany Clypea here today? What of her?”
Mona shrugged. “She’s given it some thought and isn’t interested in being a noble. She’d rather have an exciting career. She’ll be talking to you about that.” Once again Mona glanced at Sedwy. “Walker should be able to place us to study with higher people as apprentices and hourneymen and journeywomen, shouldn’t he?”
“That will depend on how hidebound the noble is, but we’ll see if we can make that happen.” Sedwy hoped she wasn’t just reacting to the Clovers’ optimism.
“Excellent.” Mona kissed Walker’s cheek. “Walker’s a very good guy. He’ll be a wonderful GrandLord.” Mona strolled away but made good time to the southern door of the courtyard, gathering a couple of other girls on the way.
Walker winced.
Once again the noise level increased, and Sedwy glanced over to see a bunch of young men around a crate in the middle of the courtyard. One of them was FirstFamily GreatLord Vinni T’Vine, along with Antenn Moss-Blackthorn. Vinni caught her glance and sent her a smile, and she moved slightly behind Walker. Vinni T’Vine was a prophet, and she’d heard that when he looked at you, he could sometimes see your future. She didn’t trust his smile.
Then there was a huge explosion and gasps. A rainbow of fireworks bloomed in the now-cold air. They’d dropped the weathershield and she hadn’t noticed. She shook her head, blinking away bright after-blurs. More loud pops and she flinched.
Hearts and Swords: Four Original Stories of Celta Page 35
