Guardian of Honor (10 page)

Letting his eyelids lower, Bastien fingered the edge of his hat.
"I think you take life too seriously and want me to, also. I'm willing to
help my brother."

"And Lladrana?"

"The Marshalls believe
they
are Lladrana."

Luthan opened his eyes. "They are doing the best they
can."

Bastien snorted and lifted his mug to drink again, let the smooth
buttery taste of goldenale slip down his gullet. He licked his lips. "The
Marshalls follow old ways. What's worse—they keep those old ways and old spells
from the rest of us, so we don't know what
they are
doing, why, or what to expect. Most damning of all, they hid the knowledge that
our boundaries were failing from us until we were invaded by the greater
horrors."

"Perhaps they thought they could find a remedy without
involving us."

"That's
your
supposition. Meanwhile Chevalier lives
were lost," Bastien said. Including his childhood friend....

"They say the Exotique will solve the puzzle of restoring the
fenceposts and boundaries. As in olden days, they Summoned one, and Tested
her."

"Did you actually see her?" Bastien lifted a brow.

"I saw
a forming
of her."

His brother's voice held an odd note. Ever fascinated with
something new, Bastien scooted a little closer. "You did? Where? And what
did she look like?"

"During the Marshalls' Council this morning. She looks—odd.
Exotique."

"Hmm." Bastien eyed his brother. "What of you?
There's something different about you. You didn't Pair with her, did you?"

This time Luthan choked.
"Merde,
no!" His mouth
twisted. "Mind you, I was invited. The Marshalls were displeased that no
Chevaliers showed up." His eyebrow mimicked Bastien's.

They grinned at each other.

"It's the jerir. I took a plunge."

Bastien's mug halted midair. "All of you?"

"And not just a quick dip. You know the size of the Temple
pool—a nice dive and glide across to the other side to stagger out." He
shuddered again.

Drinking deeply, Bastien finished his ale. He'd never seen his brother
so twitchy, not Luthan the Calm. "Better you than me."

"No, better both of us." Luthan's fingers curled around
Bastien's wrist. "Bastien, the stories are true. The jerir makes a
difference
in a person, an
obvious
difference. I could
tell at a glance those who'd bathed and those who hadn't. Everyone can see the
change, and I'd wager every Marshall in the Castle will be in that pool before
long. It's an advantage they can't pass up, and neither can you."

"Ha, as if they'd let my little toe into a sacred jerir
protection pool." Bastien withdrew his arm from Luthan's grip. An odd
vibrancy to Luthan's fingers had set every silver hair on his nape rising. He
waved to order two more ales.

Luthan's eyes blazed. "That's just it, Bastien. Word's gone
out." His teeth gleamed in a grin that seemed to mock. "They're
breaking tradition. Anyone who wishes to can immerse themselves in the pool for
the next month."

"Must be desperate." With a smile, Bastien handed a
couple of pegtees to Dodu to pay for the drinks.

Shoving his empty glass aside, Luthan took a swig from the new
one. "It's a grand gesture, and a smart one. They'll find out who's the
toughest, they'll get better Chevaliers and soldiers from this move, and
they'll challenge the Chevaliers—the dissenters who don't think much of them,
like you—to match them."

The ale turned sour in Bastien's mouth. A feeling deep in his gut
told him he'd be swimming in jerir. Rot.

Luthan tapped an elegant forefinger on the wooden table. "Not
only the Chevaliers. I'd bet there will be some guild-folk who'll have to bathe
or swallow their pride." He spread his hands. "We all win."

"Huh." Bastien took a rag from his breeches pocket and
wiped his mouth. "Huh," he said again, not at his most brilliant. He
examined his brother again. "You don't look like the stuff has helped
you."

"Not yet. I had some bruises from sword practice
yesterday." He sucked in a breath and shook his head. "Rough."

"Everybody knows the attributes of jerir. It cleanses wounds
and sets them to healing clean and fast. Wherever you were
hurt becomes stronger, more protected from injury." Bastien culled from
memory.

"Everybody's
heard,"
corrected Luthan. "You
don't
know
until you take that dive. I thought it was eating my body at
those sores." His eyes narrowed, softened. "Give yourself a week or
two to heal before you bathe. I wouldn't want to go into that pool with a real
wound, and you look like you have one or two."

More like five or six. Bastien curved his mouth in a jaunty smile.

Luthan leaned forward again. "But spread the word.
Anyone
who
wants can go to the Castle Temple and ask to swim in the jerir for the next
month. They must bathe before using it, and will get a free meal, after. A
Marshall or Castle Chevalier will be on hand to verify the submersion." He
wiped his mouth with his handkerchief again and looked at the clock. "I
have a courtesy meeting with the city guild Representatives to tell them of my
new position. I'll also report on the Summoning and the Marshalls' Council.
I'll tell them of this offer." Again his even, white teeth flashed.
"That will stir them up. You spread the word to this lot." He touched
Bastien's hand. "Think about the job of Chevalier Representative. It would
be good for the Chevaliers
and
for you."

Bastien forced out the question he'd wanted to ask. "Did our
esteemed father bathe in the jerir?" Not that he needed the answer.
Reynardus would always have to prove himself tougher, stronger, better than any
other man.

"No." Luthan's eyes met Bastien's own and reflected the
same emotion. They would never receive the approval of their father, and they
would always strive for it, consciously or not. Then Luthan's expression
lightened. "Thealia prodded him into a Song Quest and he left before dawn.
He should be back soon." Luthan unfolded himself from behind the table
gingerly. "Good journeys, brother."

"Good journeys," Bastien said.

Luthan stared at Bastien's hat. "You know a dip in jerir
might improve it. Couldn't hurt it any." With an absent wave of the hand,
he left the inn.

A smile on his face, Bastien considered his brother and the
Marshalls' challenge while making damp intersecting circles on the table with
the bottom of his mug. Finally he gulped the last of the brew. Luthan hadn't
looked good, true, but the dive through the jerir might not be as bad as he
said. Luthan tended to be conservative—one of the reasons Bastien was sure the
Cloister had requested Luthan act for them. Conservative and of strong moral
fibre. Hell, strong emotional and physical fibre too.

Bastien didn't look as tough as his brother, and considered
himself a flexible and genial man, but if this jerir Test must be done—and damn
if he'd let his father and brother top him in this endeavor—it best be done
quickly. Tonight. Just stepping up to stand on the bench hurt, but he managed.
With luck, he'd have a few good souls like Marrec to watch his ass if he'd
miscalculated. He scanned the room until several faces turned to him.

"Attention!"

Though about thirty patrons of the Nom de Nom started up the
winding road to the Marshalls' Castle, there were only two by the time they
reached the drawbridge gate—Bastien and a reedy teenaged stableboy named Urvey.

Bastien glanced at the slight youth from the corner of his eye.
"You don't have to do this, Urvey," he said gently. "No one will
think less of you."

The boy's jaws set. "No one will think more of me
either." He met Bastien's gaze. "This is my chance. If I do this, I
can rise in the world, be more than a stable hand. I could even maybe be a
squire." His eyes sharpened. "Do you have a squire, Lord
Bastien?"

"I'm a very minor lord, Urvey, with one small parcel of
land." He shrugged.

Urvey pulled hard on the gate chain. A gong sounded behind the
first curtain wall. "But you have three volarans. You could Test to be a
Marshall, couldn't you?"

Bastien's lips twisted. "The last thing I want to be is a
hidebound, tight-assed, nose-in-the-air Marshall."

"Huh. Well, you have the chance. I don't." He
straightened his shoulders. "Not 'til now. If I became a squire, maybe in
a few years I could even get a horse, maybe a volaran, then become a Chevalier.
You really do need a squire, Lord Bastien. I saw how hard it was for you to
groom your volaran. If you had a squire and were in a fight,
he
would
groom your volaran for you. Please, Lord Bastien?"

Bastien had no intention of becoming responsible for another
person.

The peephole darkened, then the gate opened. The Castle guards
scrutinized Bastien and Urvey and then waved them into the lower bailey.

Without further conversation, they crossed the lowest courtyard to
the second gate to Temple Ward. When they reached the door, Urvey used the iron
ring to alert the Marshall guards that they wanted entrance.

Holding a lantern, Swordmarshall Mace ushered them through the
thick gateway. "Welcome, Bastien. Thought I'd see you tonight."

"Good eventide, Mace." The man had been one of Bastien's
instructors in years past. Squinting in the darkness, Bastien noted Mace had
more vigor than the last time Bastien had seen him. If Bastien used his Power
and tranced in, he could pinpoint the differences. "You've dunked in the
jerir pool of protection." He made it a statement.

Mace nodded. "Right you are. It's evident, isn't it. That
will help our cause by bringing others to dip in the jerir. My wife Shieldmarshall
and I took the plunge together last night."

"Ah, the time difference. Luthan didn't look as well as
you."

After locking the door behind Bastien and Urvey, Mace turned to
them and smiled. "Still a bit white around the mouth, was he? He dunked
late this morning." Mace frowned. "Didn't stay for the Exotique's
Choosing and Pairing."

Bastien laughed. "Who'd want to be bound for life with a
woman you just laid eyes on? None of the Chevaliers I know are that
stupid."

Mace's gaze fired. "The Choosing is an ancient tradition.
And
it works.
The ritual will match a man and woman who can love and bond
forever."

Unobtrusively Bastien shifted from foot to foot. Sitting at the
Nom de Nom with all his injuries had been rough, but the two-mile walk up to
the Castle had caused sweat to sting in his wounds. Just being upright was a
strain. "If you say the Choosing magic works, I won't deny you," he
placated.

"I don't think you ever knew that my lady and I found each
other through a Choosing," Mace said quietly.

That surprised Bastien. "No, I didn't." He would have
liked to have swept Mace a bow in apology, but only half inclined his torso.

"It was a long time ago." He sent Bastien a pointed
look. "But my love for my Shield grows every day. You Chevaliers should
have attended the Choosing."

Bastien lifted and dropped his good shoulder. "For myself, I
was traveling here by volaran at the time. So who did the Exotique pick?"
He sidestepped a pace or two to the gateway's thick door wall and leaned
against it insouciantly, exhaling in relief as the old stones supported him.

"No one." Mace's face grimmed. "No one. There
wasn't a good choice for the new Marshall of the Jade Baton. Now we have a
'situation' on our hands. Who knows if she will go or stay? And we need her, by
the Song!"

Bastien almost slid down the wall. "The Jade Baton of Honor?
She wields the Jade Baton?" The stuff of legends. He'd never even seen the
stick.

"She was Tested. There are more Choosing ceremonies than the
one for a mate. I myself laid all the batons before her and she Chose the Jade
Baton. She carries it well. It flames in her hands."

"Urgh" was all Bastien managed to say.

Urvey gulped too, opened and shut his mouth, then squeaked.
"Lladrana really has a new Marshall? An Exotique? Not just rumor?"

Mace jerked a nod. "That's right. You might want to stay,
Bastien, and Test for Marshall after you dip."

A half smile formed on Bastien's lips, he swooped his hand.
"A dive and glide is what Luthan said."

Mace gave a crack of laughter. "Yes. It's all very well for
you unmated athletic Chevaliers. My lady and I just dunked together." His
brows lowered. "You could test for Marshall tomorrow."

"No. I thought the full complement of Marshalls was
filled."

Mace grunted. "We will be expanding the ranks of Marshalls to
defend Lladrana." Brows still drawn, he glanced at the hulk of the towered
Keep.

"We already have one Marshall Pair vacancy—we wish to prevent
another."

This startled Bastien. "Who died? And how? I thought you were
all here in the Castle, none of you on the Field."