“She’s given up on you.”
Hideous pain. “That may or may not be true. But I can’t forgive you for your interference.”
“She isn’t the right woman for you. She doesn’t love you.”
“Stop. I don’t want to hear your defenses and rationalizations. It’s over with me and the—your Family. My cuz still hasn’t arrived to take a job with T’Ash. I can hire on with him.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Yes, I would. Plenty of room to stay at the Ashes, too. Good-bye, Pink. I’ll translocate my personal belongings from the compound to T’Ash’s Residence. If my parents wish to speak to me, they can come by tomorrow.”
Argut, we are leaving NOW!
There was a rush of air, then Argut growled at Pink.
Walker said, “Let go of me because I’m ’porting on three and I really wouldn’t care whether you got hurt coming with me or not. One, a new name, two, a new place—”
Ready! Argut said.
“Wait, Walker, beloved.” Sedwy stepped forward. She felt awkward, but she lifted her chin. “Or he can come with me to Chinju. I could use a good research assistant. And a husband.” She inhaled deeply and took Walker’s hand, stared into his eyes. “I love Walker and I want to marry him.”
“I love you,” he said. “I accept. I want you as my wife. You and no other.”
Mitchella swept down upon them, smiling. “I heard that. Let’s announce the news. I’ll order champagne and prime the musicians for a good drum roll.”
“No,” Walker said. “We are separating ourselves from the Clovers.”
“What?”
“Argut and I are leaving with Sedwy to Chinju. Tell Straif that I’ll send notice to T’Ash to submit alliance contracts to Pink, Ilex, and Trif Winterberry as regents for their child.” He tilted his head. “Now, we’ve been too long here, the emotions too high, people are becoming aware of a scene. That’s not good for the Family. Sedwy, love, can we teleport to D’Grove’s?”
She wrapped her arms around him. “Yes. I’ll contact the Chinju authorities and let them know that we’ll accept the job.”
“No!” Pink ordered.
“You have nothing to say about this,” Sedwy said.
More Clovers were gathering, Walker’s parents and siblings. She stared at Fen. “I love Walker and we will have a life together.”
We will have adventures! Argut yipped. His tail waved.
Dragging Nath with her, Fen crossed to them, met Sedwy’s eyes. “I heard you say that you love my son and here you are standing by his side through a bad time. That’s what’s the important thing. Blessings upon you, then. A mother’s blessing.”
“And a father’s,” Nath rumbled.
“You can’t let him go!” Pink insisted.
“The decision is theirs,” Fen said, her voice shaky.
“Went too far, Pink. Never know when to stop pushing,” Barton said. “So now you have a decision to make. For the good of the Family. You accept Sedwy as Walker’s bride or not? Let Walker really be the Head of the Household or not? Bend or break, Pink?”
Pink closed his eyes. He rubbed his face. “She’s not—”
“We’ll be leaving now.” Walker set his arm around her waist. The scent of him came with the gesture, and she knew, then, that everything would be all right.
“Send us your direction,” Mitchella D’Blackthorn said. Her husband strode up and gathered her close, too.
“I’ll take care of the alliance contracts,” Straif said. His gaze flicked to Pink. “Doubt we’ll continue them. Leave them for the next generation.”
Eyes bulging with horror, Pink stared around him. His mouth opened and closed. He shook his head, swallowed hard, gazed at Walker.
“Walker, stay. Stay as the Head of the Household. I won’t interfere again, my Vow of Honor.”
Leaden silence fell, expanded. Everyone waited on Walker. Sedwy sent loving support and acceptance along their bond. I will accept any decision you make. We will pursue our careers together.
We can stay or go, Argut added.
Walker dropped a kiss on her temple. Together. Finally, he said, “I accept your Vow of Honor on this matter.”
Pink sagged, his shoulders shook.
“What’s going on here!” demanded his wife, bustling up. Her gaze swept over the expressions of the group. “Oh, Pink.” She tsked and shook her head. “Come on, let’s go home. You’ll feel better there.”
“It’s not my home.”
“Oh, for the Lady and Lord’s sake, a’course it is. You just messed up. It’ll be all right in a month or two. Blessings on you, Walker and Sedwy.
We’ll be leaving now. See you later.”
“Later,” Walker said. Sedwy wasn’t the only one to hear the lilt of amusement in his voice.
The whole party eased.
“So, Walker, gonna let me dance with your betrothed?” asked Barton.
“No.”
“I need to prompt the cook and the musicians,” Mitchella said. She hurried away, and the others followed.
Sedwy turned in Walker’s arms to look up at him. “My offer for you to come with me to Chinju was a true one.”
He smiled. “I know.” He brushed his lips with hers, looked down the corridor that still thudded with the rapid steps of his relatives on the carpet.
“But my path doesn’t lead that way. What of your offer to marry me?”
“Not negotiable. You promised.”
He laughed, then kissed her until all thought vanished.
Champagne and gleeful triumph still fizzed in her veins when they teleported home to Walker’s bedroom.
She undressed him, caressing his skin, feeling his muscles, curving her hand around his sex, and making him shudder.
Soon they were on the bed and slowly, slowly, he slid into her, and she delighted in the sheer pleasure of loving him. Her mind began to dim as they moved together. Their passion built, spiraled high, and she saw a bright coil of gold.
Walker gasped. “What the hell is that?”
She laughed weakly, tears escaped her eyes. She held him tight. “Golden bond,” she said thickly, barely able to speak. “HeartBond. Walker, we’re HeartMates.”
He reared back. “What!”
She arched and didn’t answer with words but let the gold bond link them. She twined her arms around his neck and lifted to kiss him. Small kisses around his mouth, along the line of his jaw, then strongly on his lips. One last press of her mouth on his, swiping her tongue along his lips before she lay back. Tears continued to slip down her cheeks. “We grew, Walker. You and me. Both of us.”
His fingers twined with hers. “Together. We grew individually, and as a couple, and we grew together.”
“Until we became HeartMates for each other.”
He closed his eyes. “No one can ever separate us now.”
She grabbed him again. “No one could ever separate us before.”
“No, but there will definitely be no lingering doubts about our marriage, that we’re right for each other.” He smiled and her heart squeezed.
“Marry me today,” he said.
“Yes.”
“Now let’s claim that HeartBond.”
Ecstasy had never been so exquisite.
It was the morning of Yule, and all preparations for the evening ritual and the longest night were ready. T’Hawthorn, Captain of All Councils, had called a special session to be held in the new addition of the Guildhall, a huge auditorium room that would hold all the councils—Commoner,
Noble, and FirstFamilies—as well as three hundred spectators.
Just before Walker and Sedwy, with Lucor on her shoulder, and Argut left for the meeting, he checked his personal scrybowl and the Family cache for any viz or papyrus messages from the Heliotropes.
Absolutely no word from them.
Complete silence.
He shouldn’t have been hurt, but he was.
Evergreen garlands with tiny ornaments and s
pell-lights draped along the walls, the scent pervasive and reminding him of every Family Yule in his past.
Music filled the air as Walker and Sedwy entered the chamber. The stream of nobles kept their pace dignified. Walker suppressed the urge to tug at the thick gold border edging his long, full sleeves. Real gold thread had been used.
They reached the thickly cushioned chairs and sat. Walker let a breath sift from him. This shouldn’t be too difficult. He’d already proved that he could claim a sword.
As soon as the last noble was seated, T’Hawthorn, the Captain of the FirstFamilies Council and, thus, All Councils, stepped to the podium. He was medium-sized man a little older than Pink, and intimidating with his very reserved manner. But when he smiled, he had charm.
“Welcome, Yule!” he shouted.
“Welcome, Yule!” everyone yelled in return. And with the greeting, the acceptance that today was a holiday and one of the most important days in his life, some of Walker’s tension was relieved.
It also helped that Sedwy continued to link hands with him.
T’Hawthorn spoke a little about their culture and Yule, their society, and serving in the councils. He kept that bit short, for which Walker was thankful. Then he announced each new lord and lady, some of whom were replacing relatives who’d retired or passed on. As the ceremony continued, Walker realized he was going to be called last.
He regulated his breathing and leaned on his connection with Sedwy and the serenity she was sending his way.
Finally, T’Hawthorn looked at him and smiled. Sincerely, as if one of the highest sticklers of the FirstFamilies was happy to see him and have him in the councils, something that Walker hadn’t anticipated.
“It isn’t often that we invest in a noble who has been raised from Commoner class to Grand status, based upon the power of Flair alone.”
The room hushed.
“Nor is it often that the person raised actually tests to claim a sword.”
Tension wound tighter and tighter in Walker. Was all this necessary? He arranged his robe so he could rise and walk to the podium to pick up his sword, the sword of the Clover Noble GrandHouse, without stumbling and falling.
“And.” T’Hawthorn paused significantly. Not one whisper, murmur, comment. “I am pleased to announce that this individual has such Flair that indicates he can serve Celta in the highest capacity. A Flair for people that we of the councils have been waiting for and will treasure.”
Walker’s mouth fell open. Heat flooded his face, burnt at his neck. He knew everyone in the whole room was looking at him now.
“I am pleased to welcome Walker Clover as GrandLord Clover, the first of his Family, as a member of the NobleCouncil.”
There was applause, but it was drowned out by a huge wave of music that filled the room. Sedwy stood and yanked on Walker’s arm. Right. He was supposed to stand up and go down to where T’Hawthorn stood next to a long, wicked sword propped against the podium. Lady and Lord.
Why did Walker put himself through this?
For his Family.
Sedwy kissed him on the mouth.
For Sedwy. Who was now a Clover for him to love and protect.
The din of the music roared in his ears, but the beat of it helped him keep pace as he strode along the aisle. Other lords and ladies smiled and nodded to him. Then he headed carefully down the stairs to the lectern and the deadly-looking fantasy sword. The Clover sword.
T’Hawthorn still smiled. Didn’t make him any less intimidating to Walker, but he couldn’t show that.
Walker felt approval rolling in from the crowd, the music was still too loud for any voice to top it.
T’Hawthorn offered him a heavy belt and scabbard in Clover green. While Walker was rebuckling his belt, T’Hawthorn picked up the thin, wellcrafted blade. One glance told Walker that T’Ash had spared no effort in crafting it. Sharply double edged with a fuller groove. Etched on the blade was Pride of the Clovers in fancy lettering.
T’Hawthorn balanced the blade on both palms, offering it to Walker. As soon as he touched the blade, Flair sang up his arm, percolated down his nerves, spread into his blood. This was a weapon, indeed. His gaze went to T’Ash, who was sitting in the front row, arms folded across his chest, smiling. Walker inclined his head to his old boss, a man he respected and who had given his Family such a gift.
Walker slid the sword into the sheath. T’Hawthorn gestured and the music stopped.
Then Sedwy teleported to Walker, wrapped her arm around his waist, and a huge cheer went up, pounding on his ears louder than the music.
Shouts, whistles, and he looked toward the public section. There was his Family.
Every one of the Clovers, down to Trif’s newborn.
They were all standing and yelling and cheering him.
They were his to love, as was Sedwy.
And he was theirs, and hers.
Hearts and Swords: Four Original Stories of Celta Page 44
