Guardian of Honor (40 page)

"But it is the biggest and the best of the kills." He
glanced to where the flying monster still burned oily, as big as a house.
"I claim the beak tip for my mate, Exotique Alexa Swordmarshall of the
Jade Baton of Honor, and all the teeth that remain from the beak for necklaces
for her and myself." To taunt his father. "To be used as daily
ornaments."

Partis placed a hand on Alexa's forehead; he was the Marshall most
skilled in medicine. "Power conduit concussion. Emotional turmoil from the
battle Pairing."
Just plain shock from terror,
he added silently to
Bastien. "She'll wake when she's better, but I doubt it will be before
late this evening. I'd say that during one of those
three
immersions in
the jerir—" now he sent a smirk at Reynardus "—Alyeka swallowed some
of the stuff. It had to have helped her somehow." He stood and leaned on
his staff. Like everyone else, he watched the dreeth burn.

Faith slipped her arm around her mate, Johnsa. "I
think
both
the dreeth's acid sac and its heart remain after it burns." Faith gnawed
at her lip. "I know all the remains have great Power, but what, I don't
recall. I wish I had my books," she muttered.

Thealia laughed and squeezed Bastien's shoulder. "Whether you
keep the remnants of the dreeth for their Power, or not, you do have the option
of selling them to a Sorcerer or Sorceress. I'm sure they'd go for a fortune.
You are a very wealthy man, now, Bastien."

"From what I know of her, my mate will only want to keep one
tooth," Bastien muttered, still stroking Alexa's hair, his thumb brushing
the pulse in her temple to comfort himself. "I'm a lucky man. If there's
any part of the wing left, I'd like to have it mounted and hung in the Hall of
the Marshalls. The best prize in the Hall."

Reynardus grunted and walked away, calling for his volaran.

"Chevaliers are arriving," Thealia said.

For the first time, Bastien realized how short the battle had
been. A small group of renders, slayers and soul-suckers, outnumbered by the
Marshalls, had been easily defeated. Then the dreeth...

Luthan strode up to them. Lady Hallard looked at the rest of the
Chevaliers surrounding the burning dreeth wistfully, then at the group of
Marshalls, set her shoulders and followed Luthan.

"Is she all right?" Luthan asked.

Bastien stood with Alexa in his arms. He wasn't going to let go of
her. "She's fine, just sleeping off the shock of her first dreeth
kill," he said with pride.

Luthan's eyes nearly bulged from his sockets, making Bastien
laugh, easing his tension.
"She
killed the dreeth?"

"Yes, with this fair hand." Bastien indicated her
fingers still holding the Jade Baton.

Luthan scrutinized the baton. "It looks no different."

"Interesting, eh?" Bastien inhaled deeply. "She's a
Sword. I'm a Shield."

"Good!"

Bastien blinked.

"You have too many scars as it is, have been injured too
often, too deeply." Luthan chuckled at Bastien's relieved face. "Do
you really think anyone will even
think
to call you a coward,
brother?" Luthan shrugged. "And if they do, you can always wear your
ugly soul-sucker hat."

Feeling cheered, Bastien whistled his hat to his head. The brim
shaded his eyes so he could get a better look at the flaming dreeth and the
ever-increasing crowd of Chevaliers as he walked to his volaran. Reluctantly,
he handed Alexa to his brother while he soothed his volaran, checked its
strength and energy for the flight back to the Castle, and mounted. He scowled
when Luthan continued to cuddle Alexa.

"A very nice armful, not quite as lean and tough as most
Chevaliers. Very womanly," Luthan said.

"Give her back!" Atop his volaran, Bastien held out his
arms for his woman.

Luthan laughed and helped Bastien arrange the limp Alexa in front
of him, tying them together with spells using protection and love. "You
are well and truly Paired," Luthan said.

Bastien settled his mate against himself, felt better with her
body in his arms.

"When are you going to Test for Marshall?" asked Luthan.

Unlike every other time this question had been aimed at him during
his life, Bastien remained silent.

"It's the only way to protect her, you know."

Bastien shuddered, remembering the curving beak of the dreeth
bouncing off the shield he'd used to envelop Alexa, the punishing blow he'd
taken. Better than the beak piercing her back. He recalled the awful, searing
wetness of the acid the dreeth spewed, which would have covered her. Only his
shield had saved her. Only their Pair bond, and the energy of the Pairing
experience.

"I'll think about Testing for Marshall," he said,
breaking a lifetime vow to himself.

Luthan eyed the dreeth bonfire, obviously wanting to take a good
look. "A thing that big should burn all day—maybe tonight too. Nasty for
the land beneath, though. Think that I learned
somewhere
that only those who killed it are able to handle the remains. Those trophies
will be safe enough until you return."

That's what Bastien thought.

Grinning up at him, Luthan swatted the volaran on the rump.
"Be interesting to see what baton you pick, little brother."

Bastien grinned at him. "Get lost."

U
nder the sharp eyes of Sinafin as warhawk, and of Umilla, Bastien
undressed Alexa, clothed her limp body in a sleep-shift, and put her into a bed
warmed by a spell and stacked with down comforters.

He sat next to her for a while, holding her hand, forcing his
jumping heart and spiking emotions to calm. Seeing her in battle had been an
enlightening and frightening experience, something he wasn't used to. He had
good friends, and his brother, but he had never feared for them when they
fought. He trusted the Song that they would come through—even after losing a
childhood friend to the horrors.

But Alexa was different—very close to being a part of him now.
Though he hadn't ever feared too much for himself, accepting if he died it
would be at the right time, he was terrified for her.

Luthan was right. The best way to protect her was to be a full
Marshall himself, but if he dwelt on that idea for very long it would make him
sick. So he got up and got moving. If it had to be done,
get
it done
now.

Alexa murmured in distress as he pulled his hand away, moved
restlessly.

"Sleep, now. You are safe and will remain so. I promise
you."

"Bastien," she sighed.

"Yes, Pairling. Sleep."

As he moved away, Umilla took his seat. Sinafin clicked her beak
in approval, her eyes gleaming.

He squared his shoulders and left his lover's suite, winding down
the stairs and to the Marshalls' Council Room, where they all proceeded to
dissect the battle.

A
lexa tossed and turned, but the dream images came, vivid and real.
Bastien was marching to the Marshalls, ready to confront them about something.
She tried to surface from the cocoon of sleep, but her mind and body protested
and she was too weary.

Still, she tried to follow him, to help him. Or just be with him.
She felt the warmth of his smile.

I thought to do this without you, by myself. For my own pride.
He
mocked himself.
But you're here. I should have known that the tune playing
between us wouldn't allow for such an important experience to be suffered
alone.

I'm not here. I'm dreaming,
she said solemnly.

Ah, is that the case?
He sounded genuinely amused.

Yes.
She wanted to nod, but she
was
asleep after all, so she
squeezed the pillow tighter. It was so warm and comfortable here and she sensed
she'd be facing a dreadful memory if she woke. She was tired, so tired she
didn't want to open her eyes.

That's right,
Bastien crooned.
Stay here in the
back of my mind, within reach, and sleep.

That sounded contradictory, but she didn't have the energy to ask
what new magic was at work.

I cherish your presence,
he said.

A very wonderful dream,
she said as more than the
bed gave her warmth—his words and the connection and the incredible feeling
sang inside her.

B
astien felt Alexa sink into deeper sleep. He'd try to spare her
his turmoil as long as he could. He'd dealt with his wild magic all his life;
sometimes control had been possible, sometimes not. It
occurred to him that handling Alexa would be very much like
handling his wild magic—she would sometimes be completely incalculable. He grinned.
Life would be constantly interesting. So
this
was the destiny the Song
had had in store for him all his life.

But he'd lingered outside the door of the Marshalls' Chamber long
enough. Time to face his fate. He strummed the doorharp back and forth and gave
the door a rhythmic rap.

"Enter," said the cold voice of his father Reynardus.

Bastien opened the door and strolled in. Late afternoon light
poured through the narrow, many-paned windows, illuminating the room and making
the Marshalls look like an artist's study of privilege and power. He swept a
bow, sent a glance around the table, then cocked his hip and hooked his thumbs
in his belt.

"I've come to Test for Marshall."

"Blessings," murmured Thealia. "It's about time one
of my godsons did that."

He grinned. "Too bad it isn't Luthan, eh, Godmama
Thealia?"

She pokered up as he'd expected.

"Song seems to direct Luthan's flight path in another
direction." Her brow knit. "But in the end, I think he'll be a
Marshall too."

Reynardus rose. "You, a black-and-white, wish to Test for
Marshall."

Bastien frowned. "No one told me you had hearing
problems."

A stifled choking came from Mace.

Faith, the historian, stood. "I vote we accept the applicant
for Marshall Testing and proceed with the Tests this evening and tonight, so
the outcome will be determined immediately."

"I agree," said Thealia.

"And I," agreed Partis.

"Yes," said Bastien's uncle Ivrog, Shield to Reynardus,
surprising Bastien.

He scrutinized his uncle and found the man's eyes clear of
drink, unclouded, even keen. With surprise, Bastien
realized his uncle was no longer a drunkard. Bastien opened his mind to the
familial link. His father's tune was loud, strong, angry. His uncle's melody
sounded like a rushing river, with depths Bastien had never considered.

Alexa murmured in his mind,
Ivrog is a good man.

A new surprise. Somehow Alexa and Ivrog had met, and Bastien could
hear simple notes exchanged between them.

Reynardus stood alone in his opinion, and Bastien experienced
another flash of understanding. His father had been on his own and against the
Marshalls most of the time lately. No wonder the man was so irritable—precious
control was being stripped from him.

With a
thump,
a large Lorebook landed on the table in front
of Faith, along with a sheet of parchment that looked like a list, and a box
that rattled.

"Any objections to the Testing of Bastien Vauxveau for
Marshall?" asked Thealia.

21

A
ll the Marshalls in the Council Room stared at Bastien. Silence
for ten heartbeats increased his tension and caused Alexa to rise from dozing.

Finally, Reynardus sat.

"I will be Notator for the Tests," Faith said.

No one disagreed.

"There are several different procedures for Testing an
applicant," Faith continued, looking at Bastien, "and you may choose
which process you want us to follow. The first way of Testing is for you to
choose three character Test tokens from the box at random—your choice of Tests
is seen as indications from the Song."

She looked at him.

He figured the Song had meddled in his life enough and more
roughly than he'd liked. He rocked on his heels and smiled. "No, thank
you."

"We have a standard Testing combination we vary from
applicant to applicant." She flipped a page in the Lorebook. "We last
used combination six, so we would use combination seven."

Seven had never been a lucky number for him. He'd lost many dice
games throwing seven. Still smiling, he shook his head. "Can't we make it
up as we go along?"

Thealia blew out an audible breath. "The Vauxveaus are ever
contrary, every one of them."

"Thank you." Bastien nodded at her.

"A possibility," Faith said, "but the last resort.
So unstructured."