“Why did you marry Aunt Pratty, Pink?”
The tension of wariness straightened Pink’s muscles. “This has a bearing on Family affairs?”
“That’s right. Answer the question,” Walker said. Barton began to hum under his breath, a really irritating habit.
“I love your aunt. Did when I married her, do now,” Pink said.
Walker nodded. “That’s right. And why did Uncle Mel marry Aunt Alli?”
“Because he loved her,” Pink answered.
“Yes, and why did my father marry Fen?”
“Your mother,” Pink said.
“Yes, my mother who raised me, not the woman who contributed her genes.” Walker was willing to concede that point. But the room and the atmosphere seemed to pulse around him, and he knew he was coming to the end of his strength.
“Nath’s affair with GraceMistrys Latif Heliotrope was a passing thing.” Pink waved a large hand. “No question of marriage on either side, and Latif and her Family were up front about giving you to us from the minute she knew she was pregnant.”
Barton grimaced, then his face went impassive. Walker felt a blow, but it was muffled. Too much had happened to him today. “That’s not what I asked.”
Pink reddened. “Nath met Fen a couple of weeks after his affair with Latif, fell in love with her.” He glanced at Barton, Fen’s son, who must be closer to Walker’s age than they’d both thought. They stared at each other.
Pink said, “It was real awkward all around for a while.”
“Until I was born,” Walker said drily.
“Yeah,” Pink said.
“Why do most Clovers marry?” Walker continued softly. He’d like to wrap this up fast, not take a long and winding trail, but he intended to get what he wanted, and to do that, his progress had to be step-by-step slow.
“For love, boy,” Pink said. “Best thing for the Family.”
“I’m glad you agree with me. Which means you will leave the choice of my bride to me.”
“You haven’t shown interest in any particular woman,” Pink grumbled. “Easy enough to fall in love with a Noblewoman as a Commoner.”
Walker’s smile was sharp. “My father didn’t.”
Barton cleared his throat. Not looking at either of them, he said, “Holm Holly’s HeartMate story is still told in The Green Knight.”
Walker tried to grasp for the tale through the thick fog of weariness, couldn’t.
“Holm Holly, the heir to the Hollys, had to go through some bad stuff, grow emotionally, before he could match his HeartMate. Unlike most couples, they didn’t connect during their Passages to free their Flair.”
“That’s true.” Pink nodded.
“Did you hook up with a HeartMate during your Passages, Walker?” Barton asked.
At the thought of the dreamquests, misty images swam through the fog in his mind, and Walker knew he couldn’t go on. He stood. “I don’t know.” He gave his uncle the hardest look he was capable of. “I don’t know how many marriage offers for me you’ll get. But I will decide who I will marry, when, and why.” Turning his back on a frowning Pink and a surprised Barton, he used the last of his strength to stride through the door to the bedroom. The room’s colors were a pale green and white, which made him think his mother—Fen, his mother—had something to do with it.
He fell on the bed facedown and passed out.
The night had gone and the room was bright with reflected light from the windows when Walker swam out of dark sleep and gasped awake. He wished he had real sunlight.
His Flair naturally expanded and fed information to his mind. He felt every life-beat in the compound. All of those who made furniture in the workshops and attended the business office of Clover Fine Furniture were gone, left for the day’s work. Nor was Barton here. He had early hours today at The Green Knight.
Walker’s cuz Mitchella D’Blackthorn, the decorator, was in the new south block on the third floor along with her adopted son, Antenn, Walker’s father, Nath, and Uncle Pink. Argut was in the kitchen.
Everyone else who should be here was. Including Sedwy Grove. It pleased Walker that he could sense her and that she was in his house. A shudder of awareness passed through him as he realized he was possessive of the woman, the compound, the Family. He’d changed, would continue to change. His Flair would change him. He didn’t want to. Tough. No way out.
His mother, Fen, tapped quietly on his door. He knew without thinking that it was she...something he wouldn’t have last week.
Would he really have rather grown up in the Clovers with everyone else knowing he was different, had a mother who wasn’t with his father, had abandoned him?
No. He could deal with that easier now. It didn’t hurt as much this morning as it had even last night.
He was gaining his balance. He might not be the Clover he thought he was, but his character—the man he was and wanted to be—hadn’t changed much with the revelations.
He rose and slipped on some loose and shabby trous and a shirt with blotches of unidentifiable stains. Opening the door, he looked down on the woman he’d loved all his life, all his memory. “Good morning, Mom.”
Nine
She flung herself into his arms, sobbing. “Oh, my boy. My wonderful Walker.” Her arms clamped around him and she cried, making him supremely uncomfortable.
He rubbed her back. “Come on, Mom.”
“I-I l-l-loved you f-from the m-minute they p-put you in m-my arms.”
He winced. She’d probably been pregnant with Barton with all those nesting hormones. Best not to say that, and why should that hurt him? She loved him, she was weeping hard all over his chest and looked like hell, pale and with circles under her eyes. He thought how he might feel if his child went through three Passages at once—long days and nights. Would he stay with him or her? Absolutely.
And he hadn’t been anything like stable the day before.
“I-I’m sor-ry we did-didn’t t-tell you,” she wailed. Grabbed his shirt.
He held her and rocked. She was littler than he, now, had been for quite a few years.
“Most, most of-f th-the time I f-forgot you weren’t m-mine!”
Time to man up. “I am yours, in all the ways a son could be a mother’s.” He kissed the top of her springy hair, light brown that masked some silver. “I love you, Mom. Now can we quit this? I’d rather have your help designing my new suite. You know they’re meeting about that right now.”
One last, surprisingly hard, squeeze from her. She snuffled and pulled a softleaf from her sleeve, wiped her eyes and blew her nose, looked up at him. “You never did like your belongings changed when you weren’t around, like at grovestudy or your job.”
“No.”
Sighing, she shook her head. “Of all my children, I think you’re the most set in your ways.”
Walker would argue that, but not now.
She blinked wet lashes, stared up at him. “Maybe it’s the Heliotrope in you. What kind of people couldn’t accept a child into their Family?”
That punched him in the gut. He supposed he’d have to think about stuff like that now, no matter how much he didn’t want to. “Bunch of snobs,” he said.
His mother lifted her chin, nodded. “We always thought so.”
He cleared his throat. “Have they sent any note—”
“No.” Her voice was hard. “No voice message, nothing in the compound cache box, no scry. They don’t deserve you, never did in the past, and certainly won’t in the future.” Her eyes gleamed; she straightened with pride and glowing face. Uh-oh. Expectations were falling on him like shards of glass, piercing him. “Captain of All Councils! That means even the FirstFamilies Council.”
Walker swallowed. “Far in the future, Mom.” He patted her shoulder again.
She drilled his chest with her finger, face set. “You can do it, Walker, and you can start right now.”
He suppressed a scowl. Cast his mind, his Flair, outward. “Sedwy Grove is up, and people ar
e still moving around in the rooms that will be my suite. I need to change and get over there.” He grabbed his mother’s fingers, pressed and planted a kiss on them. “Go and make sure they aren’t doing anything horrible, will you, Mom?”
“Yes, I will.” She headed toward the door, paused, with a little frown line between her brows. “What of this Sedwy Grove, Walker? We’ve recalled who she is and—”
“She was used, Mom. She and D’Grove were very gracious yesterday. Sedwy will tutor me for my”—he coughed—“future job... future. I need someone to do that.”
His mother nodded. “You’re right.” She ran an eye down him. “Take a quick waterfall, shave, and dress in something that doesn’t need to go in the rag bin.” She frowned. “Didn’t I throw those into the deconstructor?”
He’d saved them. “Mo-om, Pink and the others could be screwing things up.”
She waved a hand. “Not your cuz Mitchella.”
“Pink can overcome her. Did you look in there?” He pointed to the sitting room.
She winced. “All right, I’m going. I’ll make sure no firm decision is made without you.”
“Thanks, love you, Mom.”
Her eyes filled again. “I love you, Walker.”
She left the room and he rubbed his face, shifted his shoulders under the new weight of expectations and responsibility, and headed to the waterfall room, hoping to take a little time to make sense of his life.
Sedwy rose and scried her mother, who was pleased that Sedwy had been invited to stay with the Clovers and would have someone pack a couple of bags for her. D’Grove’s face showed disapproval only when her new fox Fam made remarks in the background unheard by Sedwy.
She felt great. The rooms remained beautiful and serene, pleasing. Her own Fam was sweet...innocent. She hadn’t been in the presence of a being so young for a long time. It was refreshing. So far she hadn’t hurt Lucor’s feelings, hadn’t inadvertently been too rough with it physically. No matter how people tried, thoughtless words or gestures happened daily.
Both she and her mother had hurt each other the day before, as Sedwy and Walker had inadvertently blundered into each other’s emotional messes.
But today was a new day. The sun was angling into her windows—she’d slept later than usual—bright and beautiful blue white. The park below showed snow melting.
She would do better by Walker today. He was so much more than she’d imagined.
She’d met his type before in small villages that she’d studied. A man who had quietly shaped his life just the way he’d wanted it—and had enough character that he served as a model for others. He might not want leadership, but he wouldn’t back down from a fight, and he would do what he believed to be right.
The Clovers were an exceptional Family to have raised a man like that. And she could see him fitting into many of the noble circles—a man with a calm and composed manner would be underestimated by some but prized by most.
Pink had announced that the Clovers were already allied with T’Ash. Sedwy was pretty sure she knew that web of alliances... and she could see Walker fitting in with that group, too. Men who had a code of honor, and the training to face and accept the consequences of adhering to that code of honor.
He could very well become the Captain of All Councils in a few decades; she had no trouble visualizing him as that leader. Maybe because, again, she’d seen men like him as town mayors.
She smiled. Now it was her job to prepare him, a worthy goal. One that would refurbish her reputation again as her mother had planned—she’d be seen as helpful, contributing to society by teaching a new noble member its rules.
Help! Help! Help! FAMWOMAN.
Lucor! Panic zapped Sedwy and the next moment she was down in the courtyard of the Clover Compound, spontaneously teleporting to her Fam. Dangerous, very dangerous.
He cowered under the shadow of a cat.
The female cat wasn’t large, but she was showing teeth.
Sedwy scooped up Lucor and scowled down at the small cat, then wrapped her arms around herself. Lucor was a pulsating warmth. “What’s going on here?” she demanded.
The cat was odd, not cat colored, but swirls of pastel rainbow colors.
Was just playing. The tinted cat lifted her paw and licked it guilelessly. Sedwy didn’t believe her for an instant.
“What’s going on here!” Another woman, heavily pregnant, waddled from one of the houses. After a couple of eye blinks, Sedwy recognized Trif Clover Winterberry.
Was JUST playing! the cat insisted.
“You do not intimidate guests,” Trif said in Tones of Doom that the cat paid no attention to. Now she was washing her ear and staring across the courtyard.
He doesn’t smell like a guest and this is MY house.
A growl echoed from behind Sedwy. She froze. Every rainbow-colored hair on the cat’s body raised.
This is MY house! said Argut the FamFox.
No! the cat hissed.
Argut snapped his teeth. MY FamMan is Head of Household. That makes ME the number-one FAM. Argut narrowed his eyes. Vertic told me so. And he told me of you, cat-without-natural-color-of-your-own, Greyku cat. He told me that you are Clover-Winterberry, like Vertic fox is Winterberry-Clover. But I am ALL Clover. This is MY house.
Trif placed a hand on the mound of her stomach, smiled at Sedwy. “Vertic has a point, Greyku. You aren’t all Clover.”
I am a CAT. I am the best FAM.
“You are my best Fam,” Trif soothed.
I am THE CLOVER FAM, Argut insisted. He pointed his nose upward at Lucor in Sedwy’s palms. And Lucor is my friend. Again he showed his teeth. If you play with Lucor bad, I will play with you bad.
“Cave of the Dark Goddess!” The gate of the teleportation cage clanged shut behind Walker. He was rubbing his temples. “All the noise.”
“Good morning, Walker,” Trif said. She stretched a little and kissed his clean-shaven cheek.
He looked wonderful to Sedwy, dressed in fine raw silkeen trous and tunic of light brown. He took Trif’s elbow. “Let’s move this inside. The weathershield is good, but it’s still cool out here. Have you had breakfast, cuz?” He nodded to Sedwy. “And good morning to you, Sedwy.”
“I’m afraid we need to get this Fam status issue settled.” Trif sighed.
“Ah.”
I am your Fam, said Argut, rubbing against Walker’s leg.
Walker scrubbed the fox’s head with his knuckles. “Yes, you are.”
And you are THE Clover. So I am THE Clover Fam.
No! Greyku arched her back and hissed again.
You are a Clover-Winterberry Fam, Argut said.
“The Clover-Winterberry Fam, the FamCat,” Trif added. Her mouth was straight but humor showed in her eyes.
This is MY house, insisted Greyku. Her fur had risen, showing a strange swirling pattern of darker colors on the shafts of her hair than on the pastel tips.
Walker rubbed his chin. “Now I think this is a question worthy of taking to Danith D’Ash. Why don’t we ask her to breakfast?”
“It’s more like brunch time, Walker,” Trif said.
“Danith likes a midmorning tea break,” Walker said.
Greyku sniffed loudly, proceeded across the courtyard to the door of Trif’s house, tail up and undulating. I am the Clover Compound FAMCAT.
Trif tilted her head, looking at Walker. “Well done, cuz.”
“Thank you.” The corner of his mouth quirked. “The status of the Fams of the Ash household occasionally fluctuated—if Zanth was on a trip with T’Ash or Danith. I’ve had a little practice.”
Sedwy found herself meeting Trif’s gaze and that woman smiled. “How much more difficult is noble status to negotiate with respect to Fam status?” Trif asked Sedwy.
“Walker can grasp all the nuances,” Sedwy agreed.
Walker snorted.
“What?” asked Trif.
“T’Ash said yesterday that the councils were like a congress of cats.”
>
Trif laughed and Walker’s arm encircled her waist protectively.
Cats are the worst Fams, Lucor said. He ruffled his fur. Housefluffs are the best.
Now Argut snorted much like his FamMan. Foxes are the best Fams, little mouthful.
“Housefluffs are the sweetest Fams,” Sedwy said.
I am the Clover Compound housefluff. Lucor’s whiskers twitched, tickling Sedwy.
“Cave of the Dark Goddess,” Walker murmured. “Come on, Argut, the elders are messing around in our new suite.”
Yes, we must make sure the rooms are good, Argut said and loped toward the southern door.
Sedwy accompanied Walker and Trif back to her house, and as Trif was closing the door, their glances met—and Sedwy felt a bond unroll between them: women who had Fams, women who were living in the Clover Compound—women who cared for Walker.
Women who had been used by the Black Magic Death Cult.
Sedwy’s breath caught. That was what Trif believed, that Sedwy and she had both been harmed by the Black Magic Death Cult—Trif physically and Sedwy emotionally. More, Trif believed that she had Healed faster than Sedwy.
Heat flushed through her, but she couldn’t deny the woman’s insight, as much as she wanted to.
“Did you have breakfast yet, Sedwy?” asked Walker. His gaze was fixed on her face, and she realized that she was wearing only the blue nightgown.
It’s been a hungry morning, Lucor said, copying Argut’s words from the day before. I wanted breakfast.
“From now on, we’ll make sure that you have food in your rooms,” Walker said. He took her hand, and she realized her fingers were cool.
“Maybe you can stay mostly in my suite,” Sedwy said. She held the Fam up to her face so she could look in his big eyes.
Lucor’s fur fluffed a bit. This is a very big place.
“That’s true,” Walker said, pride infusing his tone.
Sedwy blinked. Whether Walker realized it or not, he was THE Clover.
For the next two weeks, Walker’s schedule cycled through the same things every day. Talk to Pink and the Elders. Wearing.
Train at The Green Knight Fencing and Fighting Salon—physically and mentally challenging. That place was the informal venue to meet the highest nobles of the land. Also, the nobles there tended to be the most active in the councils. He’d also been invited to two new social clubs— one all male and one both genders. These, too, he could handle, though he was more comfortable with the all-male club, not that he would reveal that to Sedwy or his cuzes Mitchella and Trif, who’d all sponsored him. A lot of conversation and politics went on during those casual gettogethers.
Hearts and Swords: Four Original Stories of Celta Page 37
