The Battle Sylph (6 page)

Heyou looked up as he felt Solie’s sudden fear. He’d been talking with the two other girls, enjoying their happiness and pleasure at meeting him, but at her sudden gasp he forgot them, his attention shifting to her and his aura flexing. He almost changed to his real form, ready to attack or defend, but the only new development was the appearance of a woman with a face similar to his queen, and Solie didn’t seem to be afraid of her, only of what she was saying.

“They’re upstairs,” the woman explained. “I told them you weren’t here, but my brother isn’t a stupid man. He figured you’d come this way.” She glanced at Heyou. “He’s not going to be happy.”

“But I don’t want to get married!” Solie wailed. “He can’t make me.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” her aunt said, “but the law is on his side. Your grandfather let me choose to stay single, but your father isn’t quite so…noble. He’s entitled to marry you to any man of his choosing.” She practically spat. “He thinks Falthers is a good choice.”

“He’s old,” Solie complained. “And fat. Father just likes him because he owns the grocery.”

“And Falthers likes you because you’re a young redhead.”

Heyou didn’t know what marriage was, but he was starting to think that he didn’t like the idea.

“Can’t you do anything?” Solie begged.

Her aunt looked at her and sighed. “Go out the back. Run to the old widower’s house on the edge of town. I bring him fresh bread every day. Tell him I sent you. I’ll try and
convince your father you’re not coming, and once he goes, I’ll see about sending you somewhere he can’t find you. You do realize you’re giving up your family, don’t you?”

“I don’t care,” Solie whispered, looking down.

“On your head it is, then.” Masha appraised Heyou. “Who’s your friend?”

He smiled. “I’m Heyou.”

“He helped me,” Solie added, looking at the battler with tears in her eyes.

He ached to hold her, but she’d told him not to. Only, she hadn’t really ordered it. She’d just said not to. Was that enough? He wasn’t sure.

“He’s my friend.”

“Just don’t let your father see him, or the wedding really will be off—in ways you won’t like.” Masha sighed and pushed her back. “Go now. And make sure you have a bath when you get there. You’re filthy. And your hair! I’ll send decent clothes for you when I can.”

Solie nodded, thanking her aunt and hugging her tightly. Turning, she hurried past Heyou, and he followed without being ordered, shadowing her to the door. They slipped outside and she returned to the back path, heading down it in the same direction they’d come.

The boys he’d threatened with his hate were back, yelling insults, and Heyou snarled, letting his hate flare briefly. They shrieked and ran.

A window opened. “Hey!” a man’s voice shouted. “Stop!”

Solie gasped and Heyou looked upward, ready to obliterate the entire second floor of the building. A man with Solie’s red hair leaned out through a window, shaking his fist. Heyou hissed angrily, but his queen grabbed his hand, dragging him with her as she ran down the path. Heyou allowed it, happy to be touching her. She’d told him not to kill anyone, he reminded himself. He’d have to ask her if that applied
to direct threats. The red-haired man disappeared back through the window.

Noticing Solie wincing as her bare feet came down on pebbles in the dirt, Heyou scooped her up into his arms, his own feet impervious as he ran. “Where do I go?” he asked, ready to take her anywhere. The hot springs would be nice.

“To the end of the lane,” she told him instead. “There’s a house with a blue rooster weathervane on the roof. We have to hide there.”

Heyou nodded and increased his speed, blurring down the lane. They blew through an intersection, making a cart horse rear, and then they arrived. Heyou vaulted the waisthigh fence.

Solie clung to him, shaking. “I didn’t know you were so fast,” she gasped, her fright sufficient to keep his ardor down, at least long enough to put her back on her feet.

“Sorry,” he apologized.

Solie stumbled a few feet off, shaking, and the door at the back of the house opened, an old man shuffling out with a pipe. Heyou growled at him. The old man started, nearly dropping his pipe as he was hit with the full force of Heyou’s hate. But he was male and near Heyou’s queen. He was a threat. He needed to be destroyed.

Solie slapped the battler across the back of the head. “Stop that!” She hurried forward. “Please, Mr. Chole, you have to hide us!”

“F-from what?” the old man stammered, staring at Heyou in terror.

“Please, there’s no time,” she begged. Heyou had moved like the wind, but he had probably attracted attention, and someone could easily have seen them come into this yard. Also, the bakery wasn’t far away. Her father might pass here and see her while she was standing and arguing.

Heyou looked at her and back the way they’d come. He could feel the man they’d fled approaching—easy to destroy,
but his queen had given an order. He swallowed his hate and turned to the old man. “Please let us in,” he said.

It helped, the softness of his voice. The old man looked between Heyou and Solie, at first confused, but then he relented. “Come in,” he sighed at last, shuffling back.

Solie hurried past, brushing his arm as she did, and Heyou stepped up into the doorway to stop and stare at the man. He held on to his hate for his queen’s sake, but the old man saw the challenge in his eyes and shuddered, looking away. Heyou nodded and went inside, mollified for the moment.

The interior of the cottage was tiny, the furnishings worn but well maintained. Mr. Chole closed the door and came in, careful to keep well clear of Heyou and, Heyou noted with satisfaction, Solie as well. “What’s going on?” he asked uncertainly, eyes downcast. Heyou glared at him and glanced to his queen.

She rubbed her hands together uncertainly. “My aunt sent us here. Masha? She runs the bakery.” The old man nodded in recognition, and Solie took a deep breath. “She said you’d hide us. My father is looking for me. He wants me to accept an arranged marriage.”

Chole looked like he wanted to laugh, but a glance at Heyou dissuaded him. “You can hide here,” he grumbled.

“Thank you!” Solie gasped. “Thank you so much!” She went to hug the man, but Heyou growled. The old man jumped back. Solie glared. “Calm down, Heyou!”

Heyou decided he had liked it better at the bakery, with all the women.

Chole offered Solie his attic, there being a tiny straw tick there for her to use, and Heyou the floor in the main room. He then went out to see what was happening with her father, leaving Solie in the kitchen with a washbasin of lukewarm water and an old comb.

Sighing, she looked at the tepid water and slipped off her dress. She’d bathed at the hot springs but hadn’t washed her hair and had fallen asleep before doing a really thorough job. That hot water was missed as she knelt and wet a cloth, using it and a bar of soap on her body. Starting on her hair, she found it horribly tangled, and she couldn’t help a short sob as she pulled the comb through, yanking tufts of hair loose to drop on the floor. Everything else started coming down on her then: yesterday’s marriage announcement, which she hadn’t even been warned about first, the kidnapping by the king’s soldiers, the ritual where she’d nearly died and Heyou killed everyone else, their flight, coming here, finding out her father was after her still…She put her hands to her face and wept, sobbing disconsolately on the worn kitchen floor.

“My queen?” Heyou appeared and knelt beside her, looking only at her face as he put a hand on her shoulder, turning her toward him. His eyes were wide and worried, and a touch confused as he stroked the tears on her cheek and looked at his fingers. “What is it?”

He was the only one not against her, the only one who seemed to care what she wanted, the only one who listened to her. With him, she was the one in control, since he’d do whatever she said. She had the power over him that she’d always been told men would hold over her. And she’d be dead now without him. Looking at Heyou, Solie started to cry harder, throwing her arms around his neck and burying her face against his chest. She didn’t care about her earlier resolution not to touch him. She wanted to be held.

Heyou’s arms came around her and he made some sort of keening sound in sympathy. It cut through her, and she lifted her head, pressed her mouth against his. Heyou drew back, obviously confused, and she pulled away, burying her face against him again, weeping. He tightened his arms around her and just waited, letting her cry herself out. It
took a long time. The water in the basin was icy cold and her skin dry before she felt as if she could move again.

Heyou held her throughout, not trying anything. She could feel how bewildered he was. That only made her feel worse, but eventually her tears stopped. “Thanks,” she murmured at last, pulling away. “I…um…I have to wash my hair.”

“Yes, my queen,” he breathed. Standing, he moved back into the main room, a puzzled look still on his face.

Blushing, Solie washed her hair in the basin of cold water, wondering why in the world she always ended up naked with him. Or why she’d kissed him. His lips had tasted so sweet, though, and she did feel better for the hug and the weeping.

Solie sighed and finished scrubbing her hair, combing it out again wet and drying it with a towel. That done, she pulled on her blouse and dress just as she heard Heyou growl from the other room. His familiar hate flared again, and she wondered how any man could stand to have it directed at him.

“Wait!” she yelped, running out. Mr. Chole stood at his front door, shaking. Heyou was hissing at him, ready to attack. Running up behind, Solie put a hand on the battler’s shoulder, and he relaxed immediately.

“Sorry,” she told the widower. “I’m so sorry. He’s not used to people. He’s just scared. He’s a really nice guy, though.”

Chole snorted. “So you say.” He shuffled inside, leaning on his cane, and went to sit in one of the chairs by the window.

“Behave!” Solie whispered into Heyou’s ear. “Got it? Stop trying to scare him!”

“Yes, my queen.”

Mr. Chole settled down and laid his cane on the floor before looking again at his two guests. After glaring at
Heyou a little fearfully, he smiled at Solie. “I saw your aunt.” He produced a loaf of bread. “She tells me your father is going door-to-door looking for you. He’s quite worried.”

Solie tensed. She loved her father, but he was a strict man who wanted the family to be wealthier than they were. For him to give her in marriage to a man she didn’t love…Well, it didn’t surprise her. It hurt, though, and she didn’t want to see him. She didn’t know if she could forgive him, and he’d only try to make her feel terrible again. She didn’t want to marry creepy old Mr. Falthers. He’d always leered at her once she grew old enough to have breasts, and the thought of letting him touch her…

She looked at Heyou, remembering his kiss. She didn’t even know how to guess how her father would react to
that
.

“I don’t want to see him,” she managed.

The old man shrugged. “So your aunt says. It’s up to you. I’ll tell him I’ve never seen you if he comes here.” He looked briefly at Heyou, and then away again. “You can’t stay here forever.”

Meaning, Heyou couldn’t stay. And she doubted she’d be a welcome guest for too long herself. Solie nodded, forcing her fear down. She’d figure something out. It wasn’t as if anyone could hurt her with Heyou at her side. So she tucked her hand around his arm and led the battler away, thanking the old man as she went up into the attic.

Heyou looked at her curiously as she flopped down onto the tick. “What’s happening?” he asked finally. “Who is this man you’re afraid of?”

Solie shrugged, wishing things were different. Still, he deserved to know. “My father. He wants me to marry a man I don’t even like. So I ran away from home. That’s when I got kidnapped and ran into you.” She started gnawing on a thumbnail. “I thought I’d be okay if I went to my aunt’s house, but he came after me.”

“Oh.” Heyou paused. “I can kill him for you.”

“No!” she gasped. “I just want him to let me live my life!”

“Yes, my queen.” Heyou sighed and settled down near her on the hard floor.

Solie lay back on the tick, exhausted and sad. Even though it was only mid afternoon, the day had been long and all she wanted was for her aunt to just come and collect her. It didn’t seem like that was going to happen though.

Heyou sat and watched her fall asleep, not needing to sleep himself. He watched Solie’s breathing deepen and thought about this father who threatened her. He wanted to hunt the man down and kill him, obliterate him so that his queen couldn’t be hurt again. She hadn’t specifically ordered him not to, but she certainly hadn’t told him he could. He’d have to wait and hope the man stayed away, he decided, because if the man threatened his queen again, he would be dealt with. Heyou wouldn’t have Solie afraid, no matter what. He thought again of when she’d pressed her mouth against his, and he shivered. He’d liked that.

Outside, he sensed the air sylph who’d been following them. She swooped away, vanishing, and he felt one of several tensions deep inside him ease. He looked back at Solie. She was safe for now, as safe as he could make her, and he’d keep her that way. He still wanted her physically, but that desire was tempered by a deeper urge to protect her—and by an awareness that she was giving him choices, not just ordering him. He didn’t quite know what to do with those choices, but he was pretty sure he liked them nearly as much as the kiss. As long as she kept him by her side, he thought he would always be happy.

Hours later, as the sun started to dip toward the horizon in late afternoon, he heard a knock on the door and the old man going to answer it. Heyou walked to the window and looked out and down to see a red-haired man standing at
the door. He growled immediately, recognizing him. Another stocky man was present as well.

Solie still slept. Heyou glanced at her, thinking. She’d told him not to kill when she sent him to get clothes, but she hadn’t specified that rule as applying all of the time. She’d told him not to hurt her father, but she hadn’t ordered it. That must mean he could make up his own mind.