Guardian of Honor (32 page)

For a moment she just listened, and as she relaxed and let the
music take her, she closed her eyes and could actually "see" it. It
appeared like a living tapestry, woven of individual threads.

Reynardus was the rusty fox red of his tunic, the color of the
Vauxveaus for ages.

Luthan was a deeper red, more like a maroon. He was the heir.
Would his vibration turn red when he ascended?

Bastien was midnight blue approaching black, with glints of silver
as his complex Song twisted and turned.

And the man beside her was pale blue, the blue of a hot Colorado
summer sky.

Fumbling with her Power, Alexa tried to "see" into the
past. There wasn't much there. The threads led into darkness in the past, yet she
sensed that Bastien's Song had been kinked and uneven, and Ivrog's nearly flat
and gray. Now they were both vibrant.

She opened her eyes and the pastel colors of new spring in the
garden around her were pale and uninspiring in comparison.

Ivrog didn't stir beside her, but said, "Did you see your
Song?"

Alexa sat up straight. "Mine?"

He chuckled. "You are a slow pattern of notes, very
infrequent, but twining about Bastien's still. You and he have a bond. If I
were to guess, I'd say it was a sex bond of very limited duration, but a strong
connection forged between you all the same." He squeezed her fingers.
"Do you want to 'see'?"

Alexa pulled away. The Power had taken her warmth as a price for
seeing the melody. She was cold now, all the way to her lips. "No."

"It's not everyone who can see the melodies that bind us
together. It's my special gift, one not valued much—not a very great gift. But
I sense that you come from a people more visual."

With TV and films that was true. "Yeah," she said. "I
guess so."

"Perhaps that's why I was given this gift. To help you. Now
that you have 'seen' the melodies once, you will always be able to do so. Your
mind has learned the skill. Will this benefit you?"

She was pretty sure she'd be able to figure out the patterns and
connections around her more easily now. "Yes. My thanks, Shieldmarshall
Ivrog."

"So I've repaid you for helping me," he said.

She cleared her throat. "How?"

He opened eyes that were the lightest she'd seen in Lladrana, an
amber brown.

"You came and changed Reynardus's song. Because of you he was
forced to visit the Singer. And while he was in the Singer's Cloisters, he was
away from me." A long sigh escaped him. "For the first time in
decades, he was not so close, not there to carp or criticize. It gave me time
to see myself for what I'd become and start changing. Then there's
Bastien."

Alexa stood up. "I don't think—"

"We won't talk about your connection, if you don't want to,
and I won't tell anyone of it. People could know if they looked or listened
closely, but I doubt they will." He grinned. "Your melody is not of
the world of Amee. Your Song does not flow the way we expect. It
corkscrews."

"Figures," Alexa muttered. "I suppose it's
purple."

Ivrog closed his eyes, frowned. "It changes color. You aren't
of Lladrana yet."

"Okay."

"But back to Bastien. You mended his Song, smoothed his
tangled thread. Something I don't think the rest of the family has realized
either. He was in dire straits during a fight and reached for anyone who could
help—unconsciously, I think. I gave him my energy. When all was done, his
triumph blazed through me and it cured me. So simple. I have no more craving
for drink."

He unfolded himself from the stone bench, and as he stood, she saw
for the first time that he was the tallest member of his family, taller than
Reynardus.

Ivrog placed a hand over his heart and bowed. "I will always
be grateful."

She flushed and rose to her feet.

"Very beautiful," he said simply. "Your
coloring."

They stood in the lovely silent garden, looking at each other, and
Alexa felt peace emanate from him.

"I know everyone you meet tells you how much we need you, and
the Marshalls expect you to find a way to revitalize our boundary. That was the
Singer's prophecy, that you could keep the invading horrors out. But I would
have you know that you have other gifts for touching and helping our people.
You saved Farentha, the independent Chevalier. You mended Bastien, and by that,
you helped me. Thank you."

Tears rose to the back of her throat at his quiet tone.
"You're very welcome."

He nodded. "It is good we shared this time together. Now when
you try to link with Reynardus, I know you better and can ease the bond."

"My thanks to you," Alexa said, feeling uncomfortable.
No one had thanked her for anything since she'd gotten here and she hadn't
realized how much she'd needed validation from these people.

Now that she had it from Ivrog, she wasn't quite sure how to
handle the "you're welcome" gracefully. She gave him back a little
bow. "Fare well," she said.

His lips curved and he settled back onto the stone bench in the
sun. "And you."

The garden was noticeably cooler to her now, though Ivrog didn't
seem affected. Probably since she'd spent energy "learning" her new
skill visualizing the Song-bonds between people.

As she left the little courtyard for Upper Ward, she realized that
she'd had a magic lesson after all. Madame would be pleased.

During the next few days, Alexa looked at the unattached male
Chevaliers with new eyes, considering them as lovers.

Since she was now very wealthy and of high status, and looked to
remain that way, she was a good catch. Further, she was still an unpaired
Marshall. The man who bonded with her would be sure to become a Marshall in his
own right and might find the Testing process easier than others.

There were several men who had asked her on a date—a couple of
soldiers at the Castle, a couple of noblemen, and four or five Chevaliers. It
was as if she were wearing a sign saying "I'm available." They seemed
to sense she was looking around. For a fighting partner and a bed partner if
nothing else. The one Alexa liked most was Faucon Creusse. So she accepted when
he asked for a second date.

Alexa met Faucon at the Nom de Nom.
He escorted her to
one of the back tables with the elegance of a nobleman deferring to a princess.
She liked it, a lot. She liked
him
a lot. And the nobleman bit wasn't
too far off the mark. Like many Chevaliers, he had a rank and a title and an
estate, but she hadn't quite figured out the system. He seated her in the back
booth of the tavern and took his place opposite her, facing the room. Now she
knew it for the protective gesture it was and felt touched.

When Faucon lifted a hand and a man with a superior air glided to
them, she guessed Faucon was pretty high on the noble list. The servant carried
a tea set. Alexa caught the fragrance of steeping tea and she nearly moaned.
The tea she'd received from the Trade-master had been good, hearty stuff, but
nothing special, and she'd used it all.

She hoarded her small stash of teabags as if they were gold. She
only had one Assam bag left, and the lowly emergency store brand bags were now
treasures.

The man set fine china cups and saucers before her and Faucon, and
poured a stream of golden brown liquid into each. Alexa's nose twitched. Her
mouth watered.

"My valet, Broullard." Faucon gestured.

Alexa hoped her mouth hadn't fallen open.
Valet?
Had he
actually said the word? She repeated it. "Valet?"

"Yes, quite estimable, and an excellent fighter too."

An edge of Broullard's mouth lifted. He nodded to her, and she
nodded back. Both Broullard and Faucon wore tailor-made flying leathers of the
highest quality with shirt and trousers underneath of richly patterned silk.

"Broullard will be overseeing our meal." Faucon smiled
and a dimple flashed. "I had some delicacies flown in from my estate. Some
foods I don't think you've sampled yet."

Uh-oh. She sure hoped she didn't disgrace herself. So far the
food had been fine, something she hadn't thought much
about, good and filling and tasty. But now she wondered how her stomach would
take "delicacies."

Broullard put a tile trivet on the table, acting as if it weren't
scarred by generations of Chevaliers. He placed the teapot on the tile.
"Hauteur." Broullard nodded. That was Faucon's title.
"Marshall." Another nod. "I am needed in the kitchen." He
glided away.

When she'd agreed to a date with Faucon at the Nom de Nom she'd
had no idea that it would be such a production. Live and learn. They sat in a
pool of relative quiet, and no one seemed to be watching them. Alexa could only
guess that in this time of war, a quiet social date was respected. Or maybe it
was just that the Chevaliers were as eager for her to Pair with someone as the
Marshalls were.

She'd worked with several males and females, including Faucon, but
no Pairing had really clicked as a fighting team. She hadn't wanted to Pair
with anyone and have them become her Sword or Shield.

Everyone wondered about the Snap. If she Paired with someone, it
was much more unlikely that when the Snap came, she'd let it take her away from
Lladrana. Sinafin repeated to Alexa that the timing of the Snap was
incalculable, individual to each Exotique, so Alexa had put it from her mind.

"Alyeka." Faucon put his hand over hers and drew her
back into the moment. "You must know that I find you very attractive.
Fascinating and unique." His fingers stroked the back of her hand. His
gaze sizzled with male interest.

"Thank you." So being an Exotique could work the other
way too. Some men would be turned on by her unusual looks and background. That
was interesting.

With Faucon covering her left hand with his, she used her right to
pick up her tea and sip. The taste was
so
wonderful that she had
to keep from gulping it. How easily she'd gotten used to
fine teas from around Earth.

The habit of drinking tea had been both a declaration that she was
an adult and her own person, and a statement that she was someone more than an
orphan shuffled around in foster homes.

She lifted her cup to him in a personal toast. "And thank you
for the tea. It's exquisite."

He flushed, squeezed her hand, and she wondered if he could answer
some questions. Delicately she placed her cup in the saucer and smiled a guileless
smile that she'd practiced for hours and had hoped to use on pompous attorneys
and hostile witnesses. She'd been operating too much on instinct to use it her
first days in Lladrana, and now Reynardus wouldn't buy it.

"You must have heard that the Lord Marshall Reynardus and I
occasionally are at odds." Big understatement. "Tell me what you know
of the Vauxveaus."

Faucon's glance sharpened. "The Lord Marshall has a wife and
two sons. He is a difficult man to work with." He took enough time to pick
his words. "I trained under him a season. He is more impatient with those
who aren't his equal."

When Faucon looked back at her, she saw a gleam of humor in his
eyes. He shrugged. "And who of us is equal to a man of great Power who is
one of the richest in Lladrana, of the highest rank, and has proved himself in
battle for over forty years?"

"Thealia Germain," Alexa said without hesitation.

Faucon chuckled and lifted her fingers to his lips, brushed them
with his mouth. "You fly in exalted company, my
shere"

She wished that gesture had lit a fire low inside her, but it
hadn't. Maybe she was thinking too much and should go with the flow.

At that moment Broullard herded a couple of flustered tavern maids
to the table. One woman carried a towel-covered steaming
dish. Broullard placed a large stone tile painted with
orange and red flourishes on the table, set a thick, round wooden plate carved
along the edge on the tile, then gestured to the maid to deposit her burden.

Visibly nervous, the woman lifted the towel to reveal a large puff
pastry.

It smelled delicious, the golden brown crust looking ready to fall
into flakes at a breath. So Alexa held hers and salivated.

Wielding a huge, thin paddle-spatula, Broullard transferred the
delicacy from a kitchen serving dish to the wooden platter. Not a flake fell to
the table.

The maid sighed in relief.

Broullard directed the second woman to set the table for Faucon
and Alexa. Cream-colored china edged in gold with Faucon's orange-and-red coat
of arms, and heavy silverware was whisked in front of them.

Alexa looked at the brash heraldry and glanced at Faucon,
wondering how it felt to know you were always associated with certain colors
and symbols. Well, she had a law degree, right? That meant she could put an
Esq. after her name and her partnership had had a scale as a logo. Not so
different. She caught a glimpse of the purple cloak embroidered with the big,
strange flower. Yeah, way different.