Read Protector of the Flight Online
Authors: Robin D. Owens
That
could be a real challenge. “I don’t see children in our future, just yet,”
Marrec said gently. “We’re a fighting team.”
She
stiffened. “Ayes.”
“But
someday…” he said, and sent his own Song to spiral around her, full of the
knowledge that it had just changed once more, deepened, as he’d become a
landowner. If that could happen, what other miracles could occur?
Nodding
decisively, she said, “Someday.”
When
they exited the Map Room, the courtyard was filled with all the Castle volarans
again, with Thunder and Dark Lance sticking their heads through the window
opening of cloister walk. Both volarans radiated smug satisfaction. Marrec
noted mares next to them and behind them. “I don’t think we’ll have any
problems with that volaran-breeding program.”
A
hint of pink color rose to her face, fascinating him. He touched her cheek, it
was slightly warmer than usual. “What is this called?” he asked. Of course, his
people occasionally showed a change of color, but it was only noticeable if you
were staring at them.
“A
blush or flush,” she said in her own language.
“I
don’t think I’ll ever tire of seeing it,” he said.
She
snorted.
Thealia
stopped beside them, looked at the sea of volarans. “Is this going to happen
every time you’re around, Calli?”
“They
all want to fly with her,” Marrec said.
Calli
appeared startled, then blinked, looked out at the winged steeds. “You’re
right.” She nodded. “I can do that.”
The
alarm shrilled. Marrec tensed, ready to run, remembered he was literally bound
to Calli and stopped. Chevaliers close to the volarans at the edge of the herd
saddled and mounted, began to fly out.
“The
junior Marshalls will lead and fight today!” Thealia’s voice filled the
courtyard.
A
whoop echoed from the newest Marshalls, admitted into those ranks since Alexa
was Summoned. Most of them hadn’t been in the Map Room and took off in the next
wave.
Calli
leaned against him. He drew her into his arms and they watched the mass of
volarans shift as Chevaliers and Marshalls flew to fight.
“I
don’t like this,” she muttered.
That
was an understatement. Marrec felt her deep fear and anger roil her blood,
ripple through her Song until it was strident and uneven.
Thunder
and Dark Lance came closer, sticking as much of themselves through the cloister
opening as they could. Knowing she needed comfort, Marrec drew her forward so
their volarans could nuzzle them.
I
do not fly today,
Dark Lance said in a superior tone.
Do not carry nets of monsters anymore
for zhiv and better status. Have good stall next to Thunder’s.
He
whickered.
“True,”
Marrec said, stroking Dark Lance’s neck. “But we will be in the thick of
battle, always, when we fight.” He didn’t say that the Exotiques tended to be
targeted by the Dark forces…but even though they were the focus of the invading
monsters’ attention, they were also well prized by the Chevaliers, Marshalls
and Circlets. Marrec had no doubt that every volaran on a battlefield would die
protecting Calli—and now himself. For if he died, she would, too. It was a very
odd sensation to know that others would give their lives in order to save his.
Something he hadn’t thought of before. It humbled him.
“Marrec,
Calli, you should return to the Map Room,” called Thealia, steel in her voice.
He
and Calli shared a look, their Songs spiked in anxiety. Returning to the room,
they saw the map had reverted to the aspect of a battle map. The northern
border showed the fence posts, new and dying, and the force field boundary…and
the gaps.
Thealia
gestured to the north, a mass of horrors trickled across the northern border.
“It’s a big incursion,” she said. “We’re going to lose some people. Perhaps we
all should—”
Bastien
shoved away from the wall he’d been leaning on. “Let the new Marshalls lead and
fight. They need to learn the confidence of taking the field and winning
without you older folks.” Underlying his words was the inescapable fact that
some of the older Marshalls could die at any time. His dark gaze passed over
Marrec and lingered on Calli. “Everyone must move from training and practice to
real battles.”
Now
the color in Calli’s face changed again; she went very pale, paler than anyone
Marrec had seen alive. He didn’t like this color change. He glared at Bastien,
but that man was still focused on Calli.
“I
haven’t even begun to train yet,” she whispered.
Marrec
sent her the absolute confidence he gave Dark Lance, bolstering her Song. “We
are Paired. We will fight together. You will never be alone.”
She
lifted her chin and stared back at Bastien. “I’m used to compe—fighting.”
Thealia
cleared her throat. “This confrontation wasn’t why I called you back in here.”
She pointed to the map. “Look at the point where they’re invading. Lately
they’ve been coming over the northwest border. Not today.”
They
were invading due north of Marrec and Calli’s new estate.
Exactly.
T
healia, Alexa
and the other Marshalls went to the dining hall, ready to discuss the morning’s
events. Calli sure wasn’t interested in eating again. She didn’t think that her
stomach would keep much down if she thought about people and volarans fighting
monsters. The few Chevaliers who weren’t flying dispersed to Horseshoe Hall or
the Nom de Nom for lunch.
So
she talked to Marrec about her horses. They went to the small round pen on the
Landing Field set near the corner of the stables and the western wall of the
Castle. She greeted the horses, but they didn’t come to her. So she leaned on
the rail, Marrec beside her, shut her eyes and
sensed
their moods. They
were a little wary of her, she smelled different than yesterday, with Marrec’s
blood trickling through her veins, Marrec’s scent on her.
Noticing
their horsey scent herself, she smiled, let the warm summer sun sink into her,
existed in this moment, where she was fine, the horses were fine, the
now
which didn’t include fighting.
But
did include a husband. Subtly turning her head, she lifted her lashes a crack
and found him looking at her, serious as always, though his mouth seemed
relaxed. Then she thought about kissing that mouth, and her skin tingled.
He
chuckled, squeezed her fingers.
She
smiled and returned her attention to the horses. They’d stopped and were
standing in the middle of the pen, ears pricked forward, curious. They’d been
curious all night. They’d been able to see the volarans coming and going. Many
of the volarans had come by and stuck their heads over the rails to look at the
horses and the horses had liked that. They didn’t understand that their
circumstances had changed, of course, but had been content.
Which
was probably just about as much as she could expect. She itched to get in the
ring with them, she hadn’t been able to work a horse since before her fall in
December. But they weren’t ready, and she was attached to Marrec. And from what
she understood, she’d be busy the next couple of weeks from dawn to dusk learning
her new craft of fighting.
Marrec
kissed her cheek. She jerked.
“You
tightened up. You will learn to fight well and easily. We’ll be a Pair team,
probably with you as the Shield—protecting me and Dark Lance—and I as the
Sword. Don’t worry.”
“I’m
going into battle against those monsters and I shouldn’t worry?”
He
shrugged, one corner of his mouth quirked. “Don’t worry about the training, and
don’t ever worry about a battle until you’re flying to it.”
“Good
advice.”
He
dipped his head, then angled his body and gestured to the Landing Field. They
were surrounded by volarans again. “I don’t know all of these, but I’d be glad
to introduce you to those I do, and speak to those I don’t with you.”
She
considered him. “You have a telepathic link with Dark Lance.”
“Ayes.”
“But
that is rare?”
His
face went blank. “About ten of us in the Chevalier and Marshall ranks who
usually work from the Castle can communicate with our volarans. Another five
can receive impressions.”
“So
that’s about ten percent?”
He
inclined his head.
She
frowned. “We’ll have to see what we can do to bring that number up.”
He
laughed. “Good, take charge.”
Her
neck heated. She shrugged. “There must be a way to teach others.”
“You
don’t think it’s a natural gift?” he asked, moving to the end of a row of
volarans where Thunder stood, Dark Lance next to him. Calli understood that the
winged horses had ordered themselves by status in the Castle herd.
“A
natural gift,” she repeated, considering. “Probably. You hear better than
someone who only gains impressions, but still…” She wasn’t at all sure about
this magic stuff. “Most of the Chevaliers and all of the Marshalls have those
streaks denoting Power.” Silver for the young, golden for the old. She reached
up and touched his right temple. “Everyone hears Songs.” Which was damn new to
her.
“And
you see auras…and through my bloodbond with you, I have learned to see them,
too. Perhaps you’re right.”
“In
any event, we can teach the people to be more sensitive to hors—volarans. To
speak equine with body language…and…and…by projecting feelings and wishes.”
Marrec
nodded. “That could work.” He rubbed Thunder.
Salutations, Thunder.
Salutations,
Marrec. Salutations, Calli.
It was feelings and images. Marrec was a
triangle-shaped stick figure of a man, his broad shoulders emphasized because
the volarans—all the volarans—saw him as someone excellent at bearing burdens
and responsibilities. She was a little surprised and offended to find her own
image as that of a dandelion gone to seed.
But
you sparkle, the dandelion fluff is made up of magical Power,
Marrec said,
and that, too, was images and feeling and Song with a bit of language.
And
you change colors.
She
smiled at him, stroked Thunder’s forehead, and said, “We’ll see how they feel
about me after I start lessons between volaran and flyer. Humans aren’t the
only ones who need to learn partnership and respect.”
They
moved down the rows, from Dark Lance to Alexa’s mount, then Bastien’s, then
Thealia’s. Each volaran greeted them, flicking ears at Marrec, dipping a head to
Calli and letting them both know how the flying horse wanted to be stroked—a
finger trace around itching wing feathers here, a hard rub along the neck—and
as Calli touched them,
she
learned.
S
he received
impressions of battle, how the volaran stretched its wings, to fly high and
away from a dreeth, how it plummeted to kill a slayer. How well its human
partner insulated its mind from panic, urged it onward to fight, turned its
fear to determination to kill the invaders, protect the herds. After she reached
the end of the first row, her mind was reeling and she leaned heavily on
Marrec.
“Those
who have been introduced to Calli, please leave Landing Field.” He projected
his voice and Calli heard a bunch of her new feathered friends reluctantly
clopping away, sending mental goodbyes as they returned to their stables or
took off to fly and play with others.
“My
God,” she said weakly in English, and the words changed and resonated in her
mind as “By the Song.” She rubbed her temples.
“There
aren’t many more here right now. Do you want to finish or wait until later?”
Marrec asked.
The
press of volaran expectation washed over her. She straightened and shook her
head, breathed in the warm summer air, glanced at the remaining ten volarans.
“I can do it.” Their ears flicked and heads lifted in support and pleasure.
She
walked slowly with Marrec to the beginning of the next line. He said, “Most of
the rest are young and haven’t been much in battle.”
Calli
blinked and realized that the grouping of the herd had been about the status of
the person, the age of the volaran, how often it had been in battle and how
well it communicated with its flyer. Everything about how it fit in the herd.
Marrec
nodded. “If you hadn’t Paired with me, Dark Lance would have been midway down
the first row. Neither I nor Dark Lance had much status before you, and he’s
not considered beautiful by the volarans.” Marrec smiled ironically. “But we’ve
been in plenty of battles and work well together.”
“Huh,”
Calli said. “But Alexa’s volaran was right after Dark Lance and she doesn’t
even ride it.”
“Bright
Cloud is a very impressive stallion to the rest of the herd. He was wild until
a few months ago. Bastien has trained him since and ridden him often, and he
sometimes flies Alexa and Bastien into battle. He has a good relationship with
Bastien and would communicate better with Alexa except she’s afraid of falling
off him again.”