Authors: Robin D. Owens
"All those?" asked Umilla. "I didn't know
that."
"The Binding, ritual blood-bond, where our veins are cut and
our arms tied together for a day and a night for the blood to mingle and we say
vows—that is the strongest."
"But you won't ask that of me." The words rushed from
Alexa.
"No." He shouldn't have been disappointed at her sigh of
relief since he didn't want such a bond, but he was.
For the rest of the meal, he kept the conversation light. Helped
Umilla with the serving and clearing, judged the rhythm of the event, and finally
spoke at the best time—after Alexa drained her first cup of tea.
"Walk and talk with me," he said.
"Where?"
"How about down to Castleton? I have a new chain-mail tunic
waiting for me at the blacksmith's that I told him I'd pick
up tonight."
Alexa's brows rose. "Taking me away from the Castle?"
Bastien smiled easily. "That's right. We can talk about
whatever you like."
She propped her elbow on the table and set her chin in her palm,
studying him. "Interesting strategy," she said. "Talking. Instead
of trying to remain here in my rooms and seduce me."
With his Power he kept the heat that wanted to redden his cheeks
from showing. He took her hand and lifted her fingers to his lips. "We'll
get to the seduction. Later tonight," he whispered. Her increased pulse
made him smile. She didn't withdraw her hand so he nibbled her fingertips.
A moment later he stood, pulled her to her feet and tucked her
hand in his arm. "Let's walk."
"All right."
Umilla hurried to the wardrobe and returned with Alexa's cloak.
Bastien took it from her. Standing before Alexa, he draped it around her,
touching her nape, her arms, even above her breasts. All the while he held her
eyes. Shadows of hurt and caution and yearning showed in her gaze.
He ran a thumb over her cheekbone. "I won't hurt you
again."
She stepped away coolly and leveled a serious gaze at him.
"Don't promise what you can't deliver. I don't want—" She grimaced
and shook her head, obviously frustrated with her lack of vocabulary.
"No bread crust promises, easily broken," Bastien said.
Giving in to temptation, he closed his fingers over a handful of her hair. It
was like holding silk, soft and tickling against his palm, not the heavier,
coarser silver hair that most Lladranans had. "No bedroom promises, made
at the height of sex and lasting no longer than the act."
Slowly, he tipped her head back and lowered his lips to hers,
stopping just before they touched, enjoying her slight breath that brushed his
lips. He closed his eyes and knew with Alexa he could weave each stroke of
fingers, each touch, each kiss into the choreography of a formal dance,
important and essential and perfect.
Umilla grunted and Bastien straightened.
"Let's go," Umilla said. She was dressed for the cool
night too.
Narrowing his eyes, Bastien said, "You aren't invited."
He hurried Alexa from her suite.
Umilla chanted a clean-up spell, then followed them. Bastien
frowned as she joined them on the tower landing.
"I will visit my friend Crin. He's the farrier for the
Castle," Umilla announced with pride.
"Go, Umilla." Alexa grinned.
The serving woman patted Alexa's shoulder. "Black-and-whites
are excellent lovers. It's the energy fluctuations. You are in good hands with
Bastien. The feycoocu trusts him too." She hurried down the stairs.
Alexa looked up at Bastien. "What's a 'farrier'?"
"Fa-ri-er," he pronounced. "A person who makes
shoes for horses and volarans."
"Thank you. You don't make me feel stupid when I ask
questions. That's good." Her expression turned serious. "You must
promise to be honest. You didn't, before."
B
astien took both her hands in his own, enveloping them, warming
them, liking the tune that hummed between them with layers of budding
friendship, heating passion. He stared down into her eyes.
"I promise."
More harmony was added to the melody between them. They both
shivered.
He kept her close as they descended the stairs from her tower.
"I want you. All the time I've been apart, I've wanted you. More than just
sex. More than the notes that tied us when you cleared my flaw." He led
her into the yard and down the paved walk. "More than the bass rhythm that
rolled between us since you saved my life."
She caught her breath, glanced at him.
"I remember," he said. "Your beautiful eyes. The
strength of your will. Your unusual Power. It was like a dream for a while,
but then I found the stream of notes between us and knew
the experience had been real. Even then, I thought more about you than any
other woman in my life."
They walked down Temple Ward and through the gate to the Lower
Ward. Bastien gestured to the right where Horseshoe Close and Hall was reached
through a short passage about three horses wide.
Alexa strode over to the alley and peered down it. "It's
interesting." She sighed. "I've been here more than a month and still
haven't explored all the Castle, let alone Castleton."
Bastien squeezed her hand. "Tell me."
"You won't laugh?"
"You're an Exotique, strange to all of Lladrana. I'm a
black-and-white, never fully accepted either. We are both seen as...different."
He meant what he said.
"Not worse. Not lower. Just different," she said.
"Yes."
"I doubt that I can do what the Marshalls and Chevaliers have
Summoned me here to do."
"And that is?"
She laughed shortly. "Defend Lladrana. Find the way to make
new fenceposts, mend and rePower the boundaries so Lladrana has secure borders
again. Maybe even kill all the monsters. I don't know. I think they expect
everything of me."
He drew her close to his body, until their clothes brushed and
they shared their heat. Since she didn't meet his gaze, he spoke to the top of
her head. "I don't expect anything of you."
Alexa stepped away, face remote again, and he hated it.
"Wrong," she said. "You expect me to be your lover,
your Pair, to be of use in your angry one-upmanship with your father and the
other Marshalls."
"No!" He framed her face in his hands, tilted it upward
to
meet his gaze. "I won't deny that there will be times
that I will goad my father. I'm human, and if I were to promise you I'd never
spur him, I'd lie, because I know my emotions will carry me away now and again.
And I'll tell you that I
will
prod the Marshalls to change, but I think
you want that too. We can work together on that. We can be together, work
together. That's what a Pair bond is."
Her gaze examined his face, her mind touched his, explored—she
felt his emotions, his desire for her, to live with her. To
be
with her.
She smiled, stood on tiptoe to brush his lips. "We can
try."
Huge, giddy relief washed through him. He kept her right hand and
urged her through the lower gate and down the path to Castleton.
They didn't talk, but there wasn't silence between them. Their
Song bloomed and grew, twined around them, connected them. The melody was rich
and varied, with lilting measures as well as crashing chords. Already they'd
shared life-altering experiences, already they were journeying on a path
together. Bastien intended that journey to be long and sweet. And full of
grace.
Since he wanted only her company, and wanted her in bed as soon as
possible, Bastien took the shortcut to the armorer and kept the transaction
brief. From the interested look in the man's eyes when he saw Alexa, Bastien
judged the tale of their training combat had reached the town and he'd just
given the man a new installment in a good story.
When they left, he carried his mail under his arm. Alexa took very
little steps. He'd shortened his stride to match hers, but the rippling desire
inside him mounted each moment and the path to the Castle had never felt so
long.
They were just out of the town gates when they were hailed.
"Marshall, Chevalier Vauxveau!"
Bastien cursed under his breath and Alexa smiled, sensing his
impatience. She really didn't want this peaceful time between them to end
either.
She turned to see a young man about the age of Urvey, but with an
air of confidence and a healthier aspect, hurry toward them.
He bowed. "Will you come with me, please?"
Bastien's hand slipped up to her elbow, and he bent in a gesture
both courteous and protective. Some sort of guy-body-language that had an
intrigued gleam showing in the teen's eyes.
"He's the journeyman of Sevair Masif, a Guildmaster of the
Town."
She recalled Masif, the man who had interrupted the Marshalls at
the Nom de Nom. He'd taken a jerir bath, and he'd destroyed the Mockers.
Bastien had already begun following the youth. "Masif is a
good man. Smart."
"I agree."
Bastien scowled. "You've met him?"
Alexa lifted her chin. "He brought me tea." Or arranged
for the Trademaster to deliver it. "He's young and personable."
More muttering from Bastien, then he pasted on a smile and said,
"A good friend to the Chevaliers."
"In what way?" Alexa asked.
A faint smile curved Bastien's lips. "He keeps us apprised of
what's going on in the Town and whatever he learns is happening in the
Castle—with a different perspective. Also, when there are disputes between
townsfolk and the Chevaliers, he usually is one of the calm heads on the side
of the townspeople that prevails. He's an arbitrator."
"You must know him well, then."
Bastien laughed. "Are you hinting that I might have been in a
brawl or two?"
"Would you rather I say it straight out? And how many brawls
have you been in? How many times hauled before an arbitrator?"
He shrugged. "I can't recall. Masif is a friend of my
brother's too."
Alexa got the idea from Bastien's tone that the Guildmaster was
not a friend of Reynardus's. "He doesn't see eye to eye with your
father?"
"Let's say that he is a forward-thinking man, one willing to
explore new ideas, like most Chevaliers and Citymasters, and unlike the
Marshalls who are stuck in old mind-sets."
"Hmm," Alexa said. She was still figuring out what might
be traditional and customary and what was considered breathtakingly innovative.
They turned a corner into a square that was rimmed with lampposts
consisting of large glowing crystals atop metal poles. The neighborhood seemed
to be prosperous, maybe even more than upper middle-class, maybe rich. The
houses were all three stories, made of stone, and some had bay windows. Each
door was painted a different color.
As she recalled, Masif seemed to be in his early thirties—young
like Luthan and Bastien to have such responsibilities and status. A definite
contrast in age to the Marshalls, who all seemed to be sixty or older. She supposed
age and wealth and Power—magical and monetary—clustered together here in
Lladrana as often as they did on Earth.
"He's a stonemason?" she asked as they walked along the
square. A large, green park was in the center, with trees blossoming, including
a copse of brithenwood. The scent was heady, yet comforting.
"More, he's a brilliant architect. If you have any Exotique
ideas about building on to your home, he'd be a good one to see. Like I said, a
man willing to think in new ways."
As always, the mention of her house made a warmth bloom inside
her. She had a home. Land. She was making a place for herself here.
The young man stopped at a small walkway up to stone stairs and a
lovely stone house. He opened the door and ushered them in.
A beautiful chandelier with slim, pointed white crystals
illuminated a small entryway. The walls were hung with bright tapestries of
forest scenes. Alexa didn't have time to study them before they were shown into
a library.
It was a comfortable room full of wooden bookcases and rich
carpets. On the desk was a neat pile of papers that looked like a report, and
nothing else.
As they entered, Masif himself stood in the center of a grouping
of two large chairs and a small couch near the fire.
Alexa liked the room a lot, though it seemed as if everything was
a shade too neat, too precisely placed. Still, she took mental notes so she
could compare her own library to this one. She wanted one as homey.
"Please, sit. Refreshments?" Masif asked.
"No, thank you," Bastien said. He seated her and sat
himself, then gave Masif some guy-look that made the man look amused.
"I'll get right to the point, then," Masif said, and sat
once more.
"We are concerned about some missing people—The Citymasters
have been divided regarding whether to bother the Marshalls with the
discrepancies, but I believe we have a problem." He gestured to the papers
on his desk. "It appears that the disappearances started with animals—pets
or food animals—then escalated to children, the elderly, then adults in their
prime."