Keeper of the Heart (37 page)

She was looking forward to meeting Falon’s sister, if only to see what the woman would be wearing. That was the only reason she was anticipating the meeting, however, now that she knew it wasn’t likely to be a pleasant one. But if Aurelet decided not to like her, Shanelle would just have to live with it. There was no way she could blame the poor woman for hating all visitors, and even half visitors, after what she had experienced at their hands.

Shanelle wished she could have kept that sentiment. For a day, for a few hours even. At least for more than ten minutes. But Aurelet Keedar was a surprise Shanelle
wasn’t
expecting, and not one she needed on her first day in Ka’al.

The woman entered the hall with her lifemate, Deamon, the two holding hands, smiling after the pleasant reunion they had just shared. And Aurelet was still smiling when she spotted Falon and hurried over to greet him with sisterly devotion.

“Deamon has told me you took a lifemate, Falon, but that teasing
sa’abo
would say nothing about her other than she is lovely. Indeed is she lovely,” Aurelet said as she turned her smile on Shanelle in full welcome.

Shanelle wasn’t expecting that, but then all sense of normalcy went right out the window at her first sight of Falon’s sister. She had his coloring, her black hair long and flowing down her back, her blue eyes as light as his. She was a few inches shorter than Shanelle, but that was barely noticeable, she bore herself so straight and proud. Then there were the surprises.

The woman wore
bracs,
white
zaalskin bracs
that had to be made expressly for her, for they molded to her legs as if they had been poured on. Green hoots matched the short green cape that denoted Deamon’s colors, and a gauzy white shirt was tucked into the
bracs,
with loosely flowing sleeves, a wide collar, and a deeply plunging neckline. But if the pants weren’t enough to shock Shanelle, the sword belt strapped to Aurelet’s hips certainly was, especially since there was a three-foot-long sword hanging from it.

Bracs
were for the exclusive use of warriors, denied to Kan-is-Tran women. So was the use of any weapons. Aurelet wore both, and not a single warrior there told her to remove them. She was
allowed
their use. Obviously Ba-Har-ani women were allowed more freedom than Shanelle could have thought possible. She wasn’t displeased at this difference, she was absolutely delighted.

But she had no time to savor the prospect of that freedom for herself, for Falon was quick to drop his bomb. “Aurelet, I would have you meet Shanelle of the house of Ly-San-Ter.”

The woman immediately stiffened. “Do you tell me that is a common name in that country, Falon.”

“It is not.”

“Then she is related to Dalden Ly-San-Ter?”

“His sister.”

Aurelet actually paled. “No,” she began in a whisper that quickly rose in volume. “Tell me you did not join with the daughter of that bitch who brought the visitors here. Tell me you did not, Falon!”

“Now just a—” Shanelle began, but both siblings ignored her.

“It is done, Aurelet,” Falon told her. “Not to be undone merely because you object. She is my lifemate and is to be treated—”

Aurelet cut in furiously. “It was bad enough when that other came here, but he left. This one you would keep here? I will not have it!”

Falon was beginning to show signs of some definite impatience, if not actual anger. “You have no say in this matter.”

“Do I not? Does she stay in this house, I will challenge her!”

“By Droda, you ... will... not!” he thundered. “You dare to dictate to me, sister, to give
me
an ultimatum? My lifemate stays no other place than with me!”

“Then she is challenged here and now!” Aurelet shouted just as loudly.

The silence that followed was awful. Every eye and ear in the room was fixed on this encounter, and why not? It wasn’t every day you saw a warrior, and a
shodan
at that, so angry he was crimson with it. Nor did you see a woman stand there and defy a warrior who was that mad. At least Shanelle had never seen it.

She was deathly pale herself. She hated confrontations of this sort. She’d been having one too many recently herself, and she couldn’t understand why that was, now that she thought of it, but this ... these Ba-Har-ani
were
too emotional, and with so little control of those emotions. And she was seeing her lifemate truly furious for the first time, which she didn’t like at all. She would just as soon not have known Falon could get this angry.

She was wrong, however, in thinking he didn’t have any control over his anger. He had enough to be able to say, with less volume, though with no less menace, “I forbid it.”

Aurelet also lowered her tone considerably, but not to back down. In fact, she was looking pretty triumphant. “You cannot, brother. It is done, challenge issued.”

“I forbid my woman to accept, so is it ended.”

Aurelet’s blue eyes widened. “You would let her shame our house?”

“There is no shame when she is given no choice in this matter by her lifemate, and will she obey me as is proper. You, however, shame this house by wishing to fight a member of your own family.”

“Never will I accept a half-breed visitor as a member of this family! Sooner would I—”

“Deamon, take your woman from my sight before I claim the right to punish her myself.”

Aurelet did not go quietly, not by any means. Deamon was forced to carry her out of the hall, and her curses followed loudly in their wake.

Shanelle was relieved that it was over, but she was still shaken by such animosity. She’d never had anyone hate her before, except perhaps Lanar. But who could tell what had motivated that strange Sunderian? With Aurelet there was no doubt. She definitely hated.

With the previous noise level returned to the hall, Shanelle felt it safe to finally say something, but she couldn’t imagine what prompted her to say to Falon, “You have these little family squabbles all the time?”

“I am sorry. I am pleased you can jest about it, but truly am I sorry.”

She was then engulfed by yet another difference in the Ba-Har-ani. These warriors felt no qualms about hugging in public.

“Maybe you should have just let me accept her challenge and get it over with,” Shanelle said. “It wouldn’t have taken very long, and then she might at least back off from all that name-calling.”

The squeeze that suggestion got her forced a gasp out of her. The fierceness in his voice almost brought on another gasp.

“Do not speak foolishness, woman. My sister excels at female swordsmanship. There are none here in Ka’al who can best her.”

“Stars, why didn’t you say so? What was her intent, then, just to humiliate me?”

Falon leaned back to frown at her. “Does killing not occur to you?”

“Oh, come on, she’s a woman,” she scoffed. “And most challenges aren’t fought to the death when a challenge loss is much more satisfying.”

“For a warrior, perhaps, yet has Aurelet killed before,” he replied. “She has too much hate in her for her not to try to kill you.”

“Well, then, I suppose I should thank you for forbidding me to accept.”

“Indeed,” he said wryly.

“Just how many warriors has she beaten, anyway?”

“None.”

“But you said she was the best in Ka’al,” Shanelle reminded him.

“The best at female swordsmanship. Our women do not challenge warriors they cannot hope to beat.”

“Then why do you allow them the use of swords at all?” she asked.

“Occasionally are we raided by the Mal-Niki from the north.”

“Let me guess,” she said dryly. “The Mal-Niki aren’t too handy with swords.”

“This is so.”

“All right, so a woman can protect herself pretty well in that case,” she allowed. “But now tell me why you call it female swordsmanship.”

“Because it is a different style of fighting. It allows women some small chance of withstanding a warrior’s greater strength and skill.”

“But not much chance against Ba-Har-ani warriors, I take it?”

“No.”

“Then maybe you should know I fight like a—”

“Woman, I will hear no more about accepting challenge. Do you wish to fight, you may fight me. Only then can I be assured you will not get hurt.”

“Oh, cute,
real
cute. I’ll accept that offer when I’m a hundred and four, and not a day sooner, thank you. Now, is it your intention to starve me, or can we stop being the center of attention here and get something to eat?”

It was several days before Shanelle noticed the boy, but when she did, her curiosity was aroused. He was tall, nearly six feet, yet from the look of his face, very young. Still, any male that size should be in training to be a warrior and wearing a sword already. This one did not, nor did he wear
bracs,
merely cloth pants and a loose shirt. Shanelle would have thought him one of the freed slaves— many had elected to stay as servants, and they were finally decently clothed—except his bronzed skin tone was that of a Ba-Har-ani.

She saw him only at meals, and that was what had aroused her curiosity, that he didn’t eat at one of the tables like everyone else, but off in a corner by himself. Obviously, he was being punished for something. But if he was supposed to be humiliated by the experience, he didn’t seem to be, nor was anyone else paying the least bit of attention to him.

She finally asked Falon, “Who is he?”

“My nephew, Drevan.”

Shanelle rolled her eyes. “I should have known. So what’s he being punished for?”

“He is not.”

She waited, but when he didn’t volunteer any more that than, just kept on eating, she said, “All right, I give up. Why is he eating over there instead of at a table?”

“He tries to keep out of his mother’s notice.”

“Why?”

“She hates him.”

He said that so calmly, as if it were a perfectly normal thing, a mother hating her child.

That mother hadn’t stayed out of sight for more than a day. She had apologized to Falon, likely at Deamon’s insistence. Shanelle she simply ignored—except when Falon couldn’t hear her. Then she got in a lot of sharp digs, alluding to Shanelle’s cowardice, casting aspersions on her heritage, in general trying her damnedest to get a rise out of her.

So far, Aurelet hadn’t succeeded. Shanelle would grit her teeth and repeat the silent litany,
The woman deserves your pity, not your antipathy,
but, Stars, it was getting harder and harder to believe that.

She stood up now with a determined light in her eyes, and finally got Falon’s full attention.

“Where do you go?” he asked.

“You said Drevan wasn’t being punished, so there shouldn’t be any reason why I can’t go meet him and see if I can’t talk him into joining us.”

“This you may do, does Aurelet not object. But does she forbid it, then you will leave the matter be.”

“Is that another difference here? Do women get to have complete say over their children, even children as old as Drevan?”

“No, it is not,” he replied impatiently. “But the boy has no father.”

“So as his uncle, you should have the say—or haven’t you taken an interest in his upbringing?”

“I was a child myself when he was born. When I would have taken him in hand, Aurelet forbade it. She does not want him raised a warrior because he is not of warrior blood. This I can understand.”

“Can you, or maybe you just don’t care? Do you also hate him, Falon?”

He scowled at her. “I have little feeling at all for the boy. Rarely do I see him.”

“He’s pretty good at being invisible, isn’t he? Maybe because he
knows
no one cares.”

“Shanelle—” he began in warning.

“No,” she cut him off. “Why don’t you admit you might have been wrong to neglect the boy? Just look at him, Falon—eating in a corner on the floor, for Stars’ sake! That’s pathetic and something I simply can’t ignore. Your sister is a bitter woman, and certainly with reason, but enough is enough. She had her revenge. She killed the man who made her suffer. You can’t get much more even than that. But who has punished her for the suffering she has caused all these years to that innocent boy—and to herself by not letting go of the past? I
will
befriend Drevan—if
he’ll
let me. If Aurelet tries to prevent it, I think it’s time you stepped in to do something about it, or do I have to accept her challenge just to get her to back off?”

“That
you will not do,” he said emphatically, but then sighed. “Very well, do what you can with the boy. I will see to my sister.”

She leaned over to put her arms around his neck. “Thank you, but I also think you should start—”

“Woman, you have won one concession from me. Best you bide your time before you demand another.”

“I didn’t demand—”

“Did you not?”

He didn’t sound at all pleased with her. “I think that’s my cue to shut up.” She grinned at him. “I’ll be right back,
babe.”