Keeper of the Heart (38 page)

Falon watched her go, wondering why he found it so hard to deny her what she wanted. In this case, perhaps she was right. He
had
ignored Drevan, but in truth, he had no right to interfere when Aurelet had a lifemate who should have taken the boy in hand. He would have to speak with Deamon to find out why he had not, but likely he knew the answer. Falon would be the first to admit his sister was a viper to live with when she was crossed. That was their father’s doing, spoiling her atrociously in an effort to make up for what had happened to her. But ten years of having her way in everything had led her to believe it would always be so.

Shanelle stood over Drevan, waiting for him to glance up at her. When he did, it was with a wariness that shouldn’t have been there, and with a face that so resembled Falon’s, her heart just went out to him.

She smiled reassuringly. “You look like you could use a friend, Drevan. I know I can. Why don’t you come sit at the table with me, and I’ll tell you about a computer who thinks she knows everything.”

“What is a computer?”

“I see we’ve got a
lot
to talk about, don’t we?”

Shanelle wasn’t adjusting any better to the warmer climate, but after a week had passed since her arrival in Ka’al, she really couldn’t wait any longer to get into her first pair of
bracs,
with the accompanying long-sleeved shirt. A half dozen of these outfits in different colors had been delivered one morning to her rooms. The
bracs
had all been too large, so she had sent them back. But when new ones arrived this morning, she simply couldn’t resist wearing them, whether she would feel even hotter or not.

She chose brown in the
zaalskin,
to go with a gold metallic shirt. It wasn’t necessary to wear her short cape in the house, so she dug out a long strand of kystrals that she had picked up in Kystran while she was there, and asked the live crystals to change their color to a soft amber with gold sparkles deep within. They complied instantly and she hung the necklace about her neck, so that it draped over her breasts.

She had no boots yet, but they would probably have been too hot to wear, so she was just as glad to put on a pair of her own gold sandals. Searching for them in the belongings Martha had Transferred from the ship, she found instead her sword, which Corth had always worn for her, along with the computer-link unit she had figured would be there. The sword she hadn’t expected, though, and she stared at it a while before deciding she’d better not get that bold yet, and tucked it away where Falon wouldn’t find it.

Her lifemate was off doing what he did every day, making sure his town ran smoothly. He had begun the talks with Ambassador Zlink, doing it the hard way by riding out to the telecomm that had long ago been installed outside Ka’al. Each day he’d be gone for a few hours for those discussions, and several things had already been agreed to. The Catrateri could have the gold. Falon wasn’t even asking anywhere near what he could have got for it. What was being figured out now was how the Catrateri could get the gold out without setting foot inside Ba-Har-an. Shanelle had little doubt they would work it out.

She was finding a great many things to do to keep herself occupied each day. Unlike her father’s house, which always had at least a dozen widows and orphans living there under Challen’s protection, with her great-uncle Lowden in charge of them, Falon’s household had contained only one free woman before Shanelle came. In Ka’al, there was a house just for widows and orphans, ultimately under Falon’s protection, yet where the females could live without having men underfoot.

This meant that when the older slave who had had charge of the others had elected to return to her own country, there had been no one to take her place. So Shanelle took on the overseeing of the servants, while she trained another woman to eventually step into the task. She also took it upon herself to teach these newly freed people what rights were now theirs, learning in the process what rights were hers as well. Of course, she had to have quite a few talks with Falon to make sure she wasn’t missing anything, but that was a pleasure, not a chore, because her lifemate was becoming easier to get along with every day.

And then there was Drevan, such a serious child for fourteen. But then he hadn’t had a normal childhood, had missed such simple things as fun and games, and other children to romp with. The slaves had had the care of him, and he probably knew more things about other countries than most people on the planet did, Shanelle included. But his education was otherwise deplorably lacking, warrior skills not even begun. And yet he was such a bright boy, and so inquisitive, Shanelle spent most of her time with him just answering questions. She had also got through to some of his feelings.

About his mother, as far as Shanelle could tell, he felt nothing at all anymore. He had simply stopped caring about her. Falon and Jadell, he wasn’t even sure he was related to, and that had almost brought tears to her eyes. He liked Deamon, however, for that warrior had befriended him to a degree, and had put a stop to the beatings he used to receive at Aurelet’s hand. But Deamon had respected his lifemate’s wishes not to have Drevan trained as a warrior, and that was something Shanelle intended to correct real soon.

She spent a third of each day with the boy, just getting to know him. Aurelet had not objected so far, or perhaps Falon had told her not to bother. At any rate, Shanelle enjoyed his company. She had a lot to learn about Ka’al. He had a lot to learn about the world.

She took Drevan with her that morning while she checked out the mammoth pantry to see what needed replenishing from the town merchants. He had remarked on her new attire, that she seemed not so strange now. Stars, if her father could see her in the buttery-soft
bracs,
he’d have a fit. But she couldn’t wait for Falon to see her in the tight leather pants of a Ka’al woman. The only trouble with wearing pants was that they almost made her wish she were wearing a sword with them.

And that was the first subject she introduced to her new young friend. “Would you like to start wearing a sword, Drevan?”

“No one has taught me the use of one.”

“Would you like me to teach you?”

He blushed and wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Best I not learn at all if I must fight like a female.”

Shanelle tried hard not to laugh. “Actually, I don’t know how to fight like, well, like your mother would. It was a warrior who taught me, and he only knew one way to teach.”

Drevan’s eyes widened in fascination. “You fight like a warrior?”

“Exactly like a warrior.”

“But you have not the strength,” he pointed out.

“I should hope not.” She grinned at him. “Not that I couldn’t take one on and make him sweat a little. The trick for me would be not to even try to strike swords with a warrior, but just to strike the warrior. You get my drift?”

“Why, then, have you not fought Aurelet?”

“Because Falon forbade me to.” Shanelle shrugged. “You know how warriors are, overly protective of what’s theirs.”

“Does he know you have this skill?”

“I don’t think it would make a bit of difference, Drevan. But he’ll find out, won’t he, if I start to teach you. So how about it? Do you want to learn?”

“Indeed would I—”

“Ah, I am not surprised to find you two together again,” the voice Shanelle was beginning to hate remarked behind them. “It takes one visitor-bastard to recognize another, does it not?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Shanelle replied as she turned to face Aurelet. “But apparently you do.”

The older woman’s brows drew together sharply. “If that was an insult—”

“Of course it was. Did you think you had exclusivity to handing them out?”

“You would dare, a coward who has refused challenge?” Aurelet demanded.

“I see your point,” Shanelle allowed with a tight smile. “So why don’t you leave before I get tempted to overstep myself again?”

The older woman ignored that. She gave her son a cursory glance before she said spitefully to Shanelle, “Do you teach this visitor’s spawn women’s work now? Excellent. That is
all
he will ever be good for.”

“How would you know, when you don’t know the first thing about him?”

“I know he is worthless—”

“If that’s all you came here for, get the hell out,” Shanelle said, her temper snapping.

Aurelet flushed with angry color herself now, to be talked back to that way. “You hide behind my brother with your cowardice, afraid to fight me, afraid to disobey him. Is there anything you do not fear, or are you just like that despicable creature who bore you?”

“That tears it and buries it,” Shanelle growled. “Meet me in the back courtyard in ten minutes, Aurelet. Your challenge just got accepted.”

Shanelle stalked out of the pantry and went straight to her rooms to collect her sword. She didn’t even bother to strap on the belt. She wouldn’t need it, just the weapon itself, which she gripped tightly in her hand. She was so furious, and that wasn’t the way to enter a fight. She needed to calm down. The trouble with that was having time to consider consequences, in particular her lifemate—no, it was too late for that. She’d accepted, consequences be damned.

But she wondered if she ought to call Martha and ask her to monitor the fight, just in case she ended up wounded and Aurelet left her there to bleed to death. For a full minute she stared at the computer-link unit, which lay next to the now empty scabbard, debating what to do, but finally she turned away. Martha would have Tedra informed before the fight even got started, and then Shanelle would probably find herself Transferred out of there to avoid it altogether.

But she didn’t
want
to avoid it, not now. She’d always hated confrontations, so that made no sense. All she knew was she was fed up with that vicious-tongued woman. She wanted the peace a challenge win could give her—if she won. No, she wouldn’t start lacking confidence now. That was the worst thing a sword-wielder could do.

Aurelet was there waiting for her. The courtyard wasn’t empty, but it was large, and no one was paying attention to them—not yet. Shanelle didn’t intend for this to take long, however.

Aurelet drew her sword when she saw that Shanelle was already holding hers. Shanelle noted it was three feet in length and not very wide, to lessen its weight. Her own blade was the standard four feet to allow her to reach her target as easily as it could her, but not made entirely of
toreno
steel, so it too was much lighter in weight than a warrior’s sword. She noted Aurelet’s confidence, but then she’d never lost to a female before, so why not? But she also saw the expression of absolute triumph on Aurelet’s face that indicated she was finally getting what she’d wanted. Shanelle just wanted to get it over with.

“Okay, let’s have at it,” Shanelle said without preamble.

“Perhaps you would like a moment to speak with Droda, for I mean to kill you, woman.”

Shanelle grinned. “I don’t think Falon will like that very much, but you’re welcome to try.”

The grin made Aurelet angry enough to attack. This she did with a swift swing meant to startle. It did. Shanelle had practiced only with her father and brother, neither of whom used swiftness as a strategy. She was reminded of that pompous High King from Century III who had depended on speed to defeat a warrior, and it nearly had. But she also was quick, just not used to it coming back at her.

She was forced to stop the next swing with her sword, something she hadn’t intended to do. The jolt shot right up her arm, but Aurelet’s arm was hurting as well, and Shanelle took advantage of that by assuming the offensive. With Shanelle’s longer reach, Aurelet had to leap back. Before she steadied again, Shanelle swung upward, rather than down, and caught Aurelet’s sword near the base, this second hard connection knocking it out of numb fingers.

Aurelet stood there in horrified shock while Shanelle brought the tip of her sword to the woman’s throat. She didn’t smile. She ought to feel elated, but she couldn’t, not after experiencing that moment of fear that made her realize she had no business fighting for something as silly as a challenge from another female. This wasn’t what she’d been taught the use of the sword for. Life-threatening instances only, to permit her to protect herself. That wasn’t what this had been.

That she
had
risked herself foolishly, just because she’d lost her farden temper, made that temper simmer now, and she said, “Let me tell you something while I’ve got your attention. I’m sorry for what happened to you all those years ago, but you’ve committed a worse crime in the treatment of your son. And he’s not a visitor, Aurelet, any more than I am. If you’d ever bothered to look at him, you’d see he’s a Van’yer, with nothing of his father in him to even remind you of that lowlife. But you’ve probably never looked. I’m amazed that he doesn’t hate you for that, but he doesn’t. On the other hand, you could die right here and Drevan wouldn’t care.
That’s
what you’ve done to your own son.”

She lowered her blade then, and that was when Falon spoke in a tightly restrained tone behind her. “If you have finished, Shanelle, do you now come with me.”

Farden hell. She wished he were asking, but wouldn’t you know, he wasn’t.