Guardian of Honor (23 page)

Alexa turned off her alarm and looked at the view while she
dressed. The brithenwood tree was the same spring green as the fields. Bushes
and trees were budding. The rains had been heavy this year. Even so, Alexa had
never seen a frink. It didn't rain frinks in the Castle grounds anymore. The
Marshalls believed Alexa's presence had something to do with that, which made
her feel even more odd.

She couldn't see past the heavily forested hills to the piece of
land that was now hers, and which she hadn't visited yet. A
large
estate
with a lovely four-story brick manor house, Thealia had said. The thought of
it, the support of Sinafin, and her daily healing of Chevaliers were the only
things that kept her going.

The Marshalls were helpful, but distant. Reynardus had stopped
outwardly sneering and now treated her with exquisite courtesy and a smirk that
drove her crazy.

Most of the Chevaliers accepted her, glad of another strong arm in
the war against the invading horrors. She'd experienced a couple of instances
of instinctive revulsion like that Luthan had shown at their first meeting, but
no further attacks.

With effort and care and conscious sensitivity, she could make
friends. Sinafin liked her.

And Pascal and Marwey. The former soldier now wore her purple
livery and was in a more advanced Chevalier training than
she was. He used one of the five volarans that had come
with the estate.

Baby Nyja liked her too. Alexa spent at least an hour every couple
of days with the baby, making sure she wasn't abused, that she received all the
care she should have.

Alexa pushed herself hard, harder than the Marshalls expected, but
she needed to prove to herself as well as them that she was as good as any one
of them, and equal to Reynardus.

She'd actually moved from one-on-one training to being with a
class of squires to working with young Chevaliers. Six hours a day of fighting
and sheer determination to learn made her the equal of anyone in her class.
Except with volarans.

Her five prime flying volarans made her a wealthy woman. All but
the one Pascal used lazed their days away in the pastures of her estate. She
didn't think she'd ever master the skill of flying on a horse, and after the
third time she broke her arm and it was healed magically, the Marshalls agreed
with her assessment.

The fighting force would be split, some on the ground and most in
the air. The Marshalls worked with the Chevaliers in this way too, though they
mostly flew. Alexa had chosen to stay on the ground. Learning to ride a horse
was daunting enough.

Now, still grumbling, she left her suite and descended her Tower
stairs. The other Tower rooms were empty and Alexa didn't know whether to be
pleased or wary. She often liked being alone, but it was a long way from the
other Marshalls' apartments, though with one instantaneous mind-cry they'd come
running, if she cared to have them here.

The day was cooler than it had looked as Alexa hurried to the map
room. She'd developed the habit of meeting Thealia there in the morning before
they started their work. Alexa had shaded her estate on the map in deep green,
with the emblem of her baton on it. The land of other Marshalls was also shown
on the
map, as was the estates of the Chevaliers. Alexa knew
where the land of Lady Hallard, the new Representative of the Chevaliers, was,
as well as that of Reynardus's son Luthan. The most important location was
Singer's Abbey, where the oracle of Lladrana lived. It shone gold on the map,
and Alexa had vowed to defend it with her life.

She'd sworn to defend Lladrana itself with her life.

Most of the time all she had to do was call up the image of the
baby Nyja, or Pascal and Marwey, or the Chevaliers she helped, or the map with
her estate on it, and the vow would connect bone deep.

Not this morning. She hadn't slept well; a chill of foreboding had
plagued her with black dreams. She'd discovered that a night like that usually
meant something bad had happened—Chevaliers died, or more of the magical yellow
fenceposts were down, or horrors had been seen in the newly turned fields for
planting.

She'd reached the map room and hesitated. It was rough walking in
and seeing the changes, worse knowing that the gray and black that breached
Lladrana's borders and inched inward showed lesser and greater evils. Really
bad was when dots of red, or a large blotch, showed where people had
fallen—usually Chevaliers, some local people, some mercenary foot soldiers.

Dragging in a deep breath and straightening her shoulders, she
entered the chamber. It was a medium-size room with good light from high
windows and the ever-present crystals. Thealia was already there. Alexa
frowned. The Swordmarshall was obsessed by the map, and her own estate and relatives
weren't even near the failing borders.

"Another fencepost failed and three Chevaliers were lost in a
skirmish at dawn. They stopped the larger monsters—four renders, a slayer and a
soul-sucker—but such a cost!"

Alexa drew near and saw a red smudge in the northwest. She
scanned the map with the blue force-lines that showed the
magical border between the magical fenceposts, the missing fenceposts and the
boundary. In the few days she'd been in Lladrana, two fenceposts had gone dark
and the defensive border that depended on the energy had failed between them.

When Thealia turned, her face was haggard. She gestured at the
map. "It's only a matter of time before the occasional greater beast
becomes an onslaught we will have difficulty in stopping. Look here!" She
pointed due north of Lladrana's center. "These were the first fenceposts
to fall and it's the hardest boundary to defend. Every day the light of the
fenceposts on either side of the hole dims. Soon they'll go out." She
clenched her hands. "We don't have enough people. We became complacent,
didn't realize the knowledge we'd lost. Then the fenceposts started dying and
everyone
in Llandrana knew we were weak and vulnerable. Morale fell and fear
increased."

Thealia spoke a little too quickly for Alexa to understand her
every word, but most of the terms were unfortunately part of her daily
vocabulary—"fenceposts," "boundary," "borders,"
"defense," "beast," and all the monster names too.

"That's why you Summoned me, right? To heal the
boundary?" Alexa asked.

"Yes, you will show us how to make new fenceposts. That is
your fate." Thealia went to the bookshelves, pulled out a large volume and
thrust it at Alexa. "This is the history of the fenceposts. But it doesn't
tell us how they are made! Not even the Sorcerers or Sorceresses of the islands
know."

Alexa took the heavy volume and opened it on a nearby table. She
still couldn't read well, so she flipped to pictures. The fenceposts were
shown, about twenty feet tall.

"Take the book," Thealia said. "Perhaps when you
read it, you will understand something we don't." There was a mixture of
bitterness and hope in her tone.

Alexa shivered, reminded herself she wasn't alone. Forming her
words slowly, Alexa said, "A new class of Chevaliers will be fully trained
soon." She knew because she'd trained with them. "More young men and
women are contacting the Chevaliers to fight." For service to their
country, for glory, for wealth. They'd find mud and horror and death. So would
she.

A little strain disappeared from around Thealia's eyes. "Yes.
It is a good class. You were right to choose Pascal for your first
Chevalier." Now she watched her words and spoke more slowly. "You are
all good in that class. Some excellent volaran riders."

"Let me know if there is someone very talented in other
classes that would need a volaran," Alexa said.

Thealia frowned. "We should not just give away
volarans."

"A person of extraordinary ability should always be given a
chance. We need all the strong fighters we can get." Alexa gestured with
her Jade Baton.

A corner of Thealia's mouth turned down. "None of those who
have Tested for Marshall have passed."

Alexa frowned. "Fledele did."

"Her husband failed. She did not want to bond emotionally
with someone else, or by blood. She has no close relatives who wished to Test
for Marshall. She declined the position." Incredulity tinted Thealia's
voice.

The door swung open with a loud
creak,
spilling bright
light into the room.

"Ah, Swordmarshall Thealia and the Marshall Alyeka, studying
the map, as usual," said Reynardus with a false smile.

"Salutations, Reynardus," Thealia said.

"Shalutashhuns," said Alexa, and felt herself flush. She
knew her accent sounded "drunk" again.

Reynardus looked down his nose at her. Alexa gritted her teeth.

She really hated that—he was too tall and had too straight a nose,
and he had that insulting look down pat. She longed to see the nose broken, his
white tabard smeared, but that wouldn't happen. He was an excellent fighter,
and if his nose ever was broken, it would only lose the arrogant straightness
temporarily.

He smiled, sending a twinge of alarm up Alexa's spine. He was up
to something. Striding between them, he went up to the edge of the map. His
smile widened and he tapped an elegant finger to where the skirmish had taken
place the night before, on the northwest coastline, near a fallen fencepost.

"I think it is time we showed our new Marshall the reality of
the Field," Reynardus said.

He didn't do "benevolent" well. He still came off as
pompous and patronizing. Alexa's stomach lurched. She had the sensation of
being on a bicycle and having the training wheels yanked away. Inhaling
unobtrusively, she said, "Of course." She gripped her baton a little
too tightly, but it was better than letting her fingers tremble.

There might be fighting. There would probably be magic to perform.
And she'd have to ride there or be taken by someone else on volaran. Three
things she didn't do well. Yet.

"Good, good." Reynardus dropped a heavy hand to her
shoulder in false bonhomie.

He didn't even sway her. One thing she
had
mastered was
achieving her balance—physically, mentally and magically. She could stand
straight and steady in a gale.

She smiled too. "I mush change into m' paddin', an' pick up
m' new sh-chain mail 'n town." Tailored to her, she'd already spent a
bunch of Power on making it magically light and tough. "I'll ride
down." She trusted a gentle mare to take her there.

Thealia cocked her head in the way that meant she was mentally
communicating with someone. "Luthan has agreed to fly you. He'll meet you
at the Nom de Nom."

Dead monster heads again. Oh fun.

"Ayes." That she could say well. She nodded to the
Marshalls and left.

12

S
itting in the Nom de Nom, Luthan stared at the Exotique woman
before him. Ever since he'd met her, he'd tried to mask his aversion to
her—based mainly on her appearance, for which he was deeply ashamed.

With reluctance, Luthan had agreed to fly the new Marshall to the
Field of the last skirmish, where three Chevaliers had lost their lives.

She looked at him with clear, green eyes and he sensed that she
was well aware of his discomfort with her and hurt by it. He winced inwardly.
Lladrana needed this woman, and if the Song was right, this Exotique would be
only the first to come to Lladrana in the next two years, when the harmonics of
the two worlds resonated in syncopation. So he should try to accept her as soon
as possible.

It was not only her alien looks that put him off—she was such an
unknown quantity, capable of strange actions that disrupted
life. For the Marshalls, that might be good. For Luthan
personally, he disliked illogical starts and turns in a person—he'd lived with
enough disruption in his childhood, with a brother he loved but didn't
understand.

The worst was that he believed his godmother Thealia was trying to
matchmake, Pair him to this strange Exotique woman. He imagined the Marshalls
were desperate to keep her in Lladrana, and Pairing would do that. But such an
emotional tie between him and this one would never happen.

She drank her tea, her eyes as watchful and examining as his own,
making no effort to break the silence engulfing them. He wondered what she
thought of him. More, he wondered what sort of man
would
be attracted to
this odd little creature.

Ping!
The sound inside his head froze him. He strove to keep his
breathing even, his pulse steady, his mind at rest so the vision would come
clear, and last.

The woman's aura trembled, then was replaced, and Luthan saw true.
Now she sat in front of him with skin a darker hue and a long scar running down
her left cheek. Her hair was longer. Behind her, his hands on her shoulders,
was Luthan's brother Bastien.

He looked more contented and relaxed than ever in his life. His
dark eyes gleamed with self-knowledge and purpose. As he caressed the woman's
shoulders, love shone in a golden aura around them.