Guardian of Honor (34 page)

W
hen Bastien was discharged from the clinique he flew home. Luthan
had given him the option of home or the Castle, and Bastien wasn't ready for
the Castle, yet. Didn't know when he would be.

Within five minutes the caretaker of his estate had informed him
of his new neighbor—the Marshall Alexa—that she'd visited her estate twice and
her staff were pleased. Always curious, Bastien sauntered to her house himself.

He met with Pierre, the head of the stables, who was the best vet
around and had helped Bastien with his horses and volarans.

Bastien sat with the tough old guy in the front room of a cottage
that looked out on the main wing of stables. The walls were whitewashed plaster
and held paintings of volarans. Wooden beams protruded from the low ceiling;
the wooden floor was plain scrubbed pine planks. They drank ale.

Tipping his chair back on two legs, Bastien asked, "What do
you think of the new Exotique Marshall?"

"Doesn't like horses, wary of volarans," Pierre said,
and took a gulp of beer.

"Not like the Janins, the previous owners," Bastien
said.

Pierre snorted. "Those folks were worthless. I misspoke. The
new little Exotique doesn't know horses, and I heard they don't have volarans
where she comes from." He shook his head in pure disbelief.

"I've heard that too. Bad if she's not interested in the
stables."

Clunking his mug down, Pierre wiped his mouth with a purple
napkin. "Didn't say that. When I heard that she toured the house but
wasn't coming to the stables, I went up to get a good look at her—you can
believe that."

Bastien nodded.

"She's a funny-looking one, but she had this expression in
her eyes. Like she'd already come to love the place and would die before she'd
let anyone take it from her. She's a fighter. She'll be good for the estate,
and good for Lladrana. The Marshalls picked a good one, there."

That wasn't what Bastien wanted to hear.

"Furthermore, I'll make a horsewoman of her in three years,
and in five she'll be dive-bombing her volarans. Or you'll train her."

Bastien choked.

"Guess I wasn't supposed to hear those little notes running
from you to her? Wasn't supposed to know you came here for information or
advice?" Pierre chuckled. "This is her home, she has ties to it
already, and come Summer Solstice and the Land Bonding ritual, she'll do it,
mark my words. It holds some of her energy and yours from when you've visited.
Of course the energies Sing when they're linked."

Bastien was surprised. First Luthan knew of the bond between Alexa
and Bastien and accepted it, now Pierre. It didn't sound as if fighting his
destiny would work. He'd still try.

Pierre continued, "I approve of her. I approve of you. You're
both fighters. Go to her. That's my advice."

"Marshall—" Bastien strangled on the word.

Pierre sent a sizzling flick of energy against Bastien's hands in
reprimand, not as much painful as shocking.

"You were always slated for a Marshall's baton. Go do it.
Now. It won't take more than an hour to fly to the Castle using one of the wild
volarans and your own magic to shorten the distance." Pierre stood,
stalked to the door and opened it.

After swallowing the last of his ale, and adjusting his hat,
Bastien strode out the door.

"By the way, that hat could use a few horses trampling it to
make it prettier!" Pierre shouted.

His laughter followed Bastien as he walked home.

Thoughts circled in his head. If Alexa was such a fighter, why
wasn't she fighting for him? The curiosity that had gotten him in so much
trouble throughout his life piqued; Bastien stopped and leaned against a tree.
The cheerful burbling of a nearby brook helped him visualize the bond between
them.

There it was. It wasn't white now, but midnight blue—his main
color—and purple, braided together. He wondered what she'd do if he gave it a
nudge, just a tiny quiver. Would she even notice? With the bond, could he put
it in her mind to come to him instead of him having to go to the Castle and
her?

He moved it a finger's breadth.

Nothing happened.

Bastien plucked it again.

He was yanked from his tree to land in the soft mud of the cold,
shallow stream. He sputtered and laughed.

She didn't. He felt her mental presence now, but it was distant
and shielded, nothing like when they'd coupled together above the stables at
The Singer's Hand. In his mind's eye an image coalesced. A pair of very large
scissors with a handle in a color of purple he'd never seen before—maybe a
color from Exotique Terre. The scissors positioned themselves on each side of
their thread.

"Wait!"

The scissors paused an instant. Bastien thought fast, sent this
thought:
Do you know what will happen if you cut that thread?

He did. It wouldn't be pleasant, but it wouldn't be debilitating
either. He'd wager
she
didn't know. She didn't know a lot of things
about Lladrana, especially that the Marshalls were a bunch of self-centered,
obsolete snobs. And he had to admit he'd like to teach her some customs,
especially some sexual ones.

Jaws yawning wide, the scissors hovered, then withdrew—as she
did—leaving him to pick himself up, shake himself off and slosh back to his
stables for a quick ride to the Castle.

Her emotions about him had been strangely flat.

He'd known enough women to believe that his quick departure after
a night of sex—no, it had been more, a real closeness of body and
emotion—should have engendered hurt and anger and perhaps even bitterness. But
none of those emotions pulsed from her.

Oddly enough, that irritated him. Pierre had said she was a
fighter, and Bastien had sensed the same basic characteristic when they'd been
together. What, he wasn't worth fighting for?

That steamed him enough to rationalize going to the Castle.

He let the Chevalier coordinator know where he could be found and
flew to the Castle on his best volaran—one he'd bred and raised himself, one
his father deeply coveted.

He smiled. Perhaps his fate wasn't too bad after all. He'd be in a
position to rile his father and the other stiff-necked Marshalls, at every
opportunity. Shake them out of their ruts and hidebound
ways. Helped along by the very Exotique they had Summoned
and who was ruffling their feathers as well. Then the Chevaliers could get some
answers, some help.

This could be fun.

And the thought of having sex with Alexa wasn't too hard to accept
either. He hadn't gotten a good look at her and wanted to. Wanted to explore
her differences, inside and out.

Bastien and his volaran glided to a halt on the Landing Field of
the Castle. He was met by Urvey, who looked at Bastien reproachfully for having
left him behind, even though Bastien had paid the boy to stay and take care of
his room in Horseshoe Hall.

No need to ask how Urvey knew he was arriving, since the feycoocu
in warhawk-form flew beside him and settled on Bastien's shoulder. It too,
watched him with disapproving eyes set above a wicked bird's beak. He sensed
that if anyone was behind the meeting between Alexa and him, it was this being.
And he didn't want to think of that.
Very
wild magic at work.

"Where's the... Marshall Alexa?" He had almost said
"the Exotique," but recalled how he hated being called "the
black-and-white."

Urvey and the bird sniffed in unison.

Bastien smothered a smile.

"In the training yard," Urvey said stiffly.

"Look, Urvey, I'm sorry I left, but if I'd taken you with me,
you'd be dead." Bastien dropped a hand on the youth's shoulder. It hunched
under his fingers. "All right. I owe you an apology. I apologize."

With lips pressed together, the teen looked up. "Do you want
me for your squire or not?"

He hadn't thought he'd face his new life so soon. Accept
responsibility for another? The boy studied him anxiously. It was unlikely
anyone else would keep him as a squire, dip in the jerir or not.

Time for Bastien to become an adult and a true Chevalier.
Merde.
"Yes, I want you as my squire. I'll be needing one here, especially if
I Pair with Marshall Alexa."

The bird squawked and flapped its wings.
About time.

Now Urvey's mouth curved slyly. "Chevalier Faucon's squire
has been training me."

That must have taken guts and initiative on Urvey's part. Good
boy. But Faucon...that smooth bastard. An unexpected bite of jealousy nipped at
Bastien. He wondered how far Faucon had gotten with the Marshall.

The Exotique is innately attractive to some,
the
feycoocu said.

Like me,
Bastien thought.

Like Faucon,
it ended smugly.
He is sparring with
her in the training yard.

"Huh" was Bastien's brilliant reply. He set off at a
trot that caused the bird to rise and caw.

Sure enough, he found the pair in the first training yard, a
fenced circle. Half of the Marshalls and many Chevaliers watched, including his
brother Luthan. Bastien could
see
the aura around them as they willed
the newcomer to learn.

Alexa and Faucon fought with short sword and shields. She was
doing well, augmenting her strength and her blows with powerful magic, good in
her footwork. A glow of jade green surrounded her. The Jade Baton lay on her
left hip and could be deployed in an instant.

Bastien frowned. Faucon was holding back.

"Time!" Bastien called.

The fighters dropped their weapons. Everyone turned and stared at
him. He opened the low wooden gate, strolled through and latched it behind him.
The feycoocu landed on the gate.

Bastien walked up to Alexa and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"Hello, sweeting." The scent of her rose to him and went
straight to his loins.
Merde!

"I'm not your 'sweeting.' I am nothing to you. We are nothing
to each other." She looked up at him with strange, cool green eyes, her
face expressionless.

Bastien didn't like her words, but kept a smile on his face as he
turned to Faucon, who looked at him with a resigned, knowing gaze. Bastien
offered his hand, and Faucon met his grip. They were well matched in every way,
except Power. Bastien had been a black-and-white, and his hair still proclaimed
him that, but he was now fully in tune with his Power.

Faucon's eyes widened and he dipped his head, a wry smile curving
at his mouth. "Now I understand why Luthan has been so protective. You
have a good brother."

"The best."

A little yearning flickered in Faucon's eyes. He was an only
child. Bastien suddenly realized his life had been better than he'd thought. He
had a weak mother and Reynardus for a father, but sharing kinship with Luthan
made up for all of that.

"You are doing her no favor in holding back," Bastien
said quietly.

Faucon shrugged. "I can't help it. She's so small and
delicate—"

"Are we going to practice or quit?" asked the lady
sharply.

"May I cut in?" asked Bastien, loud enough for all to
hear.

With a nod, Faucon sheathed his sword. He smiled and saluted Alexa
and strode from the field.

Slowly Bastien turned to face Alexa.

She'd picked up a quarterstaff that was all wrong for her—too long
and heavy, and leaned on it. He couldn't see her hair under her helm, but her
face was so pale it seemed to glow, the color of cream with a touch of rose in
her cheeks. Striking coloring.

Her figure was like many women's and she was dressed like a
Marshall, but the way she held herself, her attitude, was
not of Lladrana. He couldn't pinpoint the differences, but they were there and
would always remain so.

Her gaze met his and he probed. She should be angry with him, but
he sensed the distance she'd put between them, the magical block on her
emotions. Whistling, he prepared for the fight by stripping off his riding
gauntlets and untying the lace anchoring his sword to his thigh. He took a
shield from Luthan, who handed it to him with a serious face but a twinkle in
his eyes.

Alexa set aside the quarterstaff and did some stretching that was
nothing of Lladrana, but looked useful. When she was ready, her gaze met his
with remoteness.

Bastien smiled wolfishly. All his life he'd learned to demolish
mental blocks of others and to work around his own. Whatever was keeping her
from feeling the natural emotions she should for him, would soon be gone.

"Go!" shouted Luthan in a tone that warned Bastien, but
which he disregarded.

Most of the time it was interesting to play with fire.

He crossed swords with her, starting easy, testing, teasing. As
they feinted, riposted, thrusted, he slipped a probe into her mind and sensed
the emotional block she had regarding him. There were other blocks, but right
now he was only interested in the one with his tune on it.