Protector of the Flight (34 page)

“Well,”
Calli said, looking dubiously at Marrec and the girl.

Marrec
didn’t know what to say.

“Do
you think she’s afraid of me because of my coloring?” She reached out to stroke
the child’s back.

The
little girl shuddered. Calli jerked her hand away and met Marrec’s gaze. Her
eyes wide, her lips pressed together. “I heard a bit of Song. She’s scared
because I’m a woman.”

Marrec
had heard a short burst of panic notes, too. He nodded. He didn’t think he’d be
able to hand the little one over to Calli anytime soon.

“We’d
better get her inside,” Calli said brusquely.

“Good
idea,” Marrec said, following Calli as she walked back to the house. The little
girl’s cold fingers touched his collarbone, curled around the open edge of his
shirt. He got the idea she was afraid to make a sound, that the strange woman
would hurt her, that the child liked his scent.

Great.

“What’s
her name?” Calli asked over her shoulder.

“I
don’t know.”

“Huh.
And you’re not going to tell me who dropped her off? Do you think we should
keep her?”

Both
thorny questions. “A Chevalier who saved my life in battle last year claimed
payback.”

Calli
snorted.

“That’s
what I think, too. I never went around tallying lives I saved in battle,”
Marrec grumbled, shifting the child. Something squished beneath his hand. The
little girl whimpered. “But since you don’t know the person, I’d prefer to
leave it that way.”

“In
case I hesitate to save the Chevalier’s life in battle?”

Marrec
grunted. Thunder rumbled and the little girl let out a wail. He found himself
rocking her and muttering endearments that he dimly recalled from his own
childhood and his younger brothers. He could almost see once more the faces of
his family. He shut the door on the images. The baby’s appearance seemed
aristocratic, with a thin nose and large eyes and well-molded lips.

They
hurried back to the house in the rain. Calli’s excitement bubbled to Marrec.

“Do
you think we can take care of her by ourselves tonight?” Calli stared at the
blanket, looking for any wetness. There was a definite odor. “I, uh, don’t know
what are used for diapers here.” Why hadn’t she thought of that? “We aren’t
ready for a family yet!”

Marrec’s
smile held little humor. “No, we aren’t. Help me with my gear.”

She
removed his hat, peeled the slicker off and hung them both on hooks, did the
same for herself, all the while keeping her yearning hands from the little
girl. He grunted a short spellsong and the mud disappeared from their boots.
Nice. She hadn’t learned that one yet, but it wasn’t enough to distract her
from the baby. A bone-deep feeling said nothing would distract her from
claiming the child.

He
didn’t go up the stairs to their suite, but strolled down the left corridor and
opened the door to the small parlor.

As
they walked into the room, the fire flickered to life and a fuzzy yellow
sunlike ball brightened the room. It was the warmest and homiest of the
downstairs rooms, with good but shabby furniture. Marrec set the baby on the
floor.

Before
their startled eyes she whipped from the blanket and scrunched into a dim
corner, crawling with an extra push of Power. They stared at each other.

Calli
cleared her throat. “Is your friend Powerful?”

“He’s
not my friend.” Marrec narrowed his eyes as if calling up an image of the man.
“Powerful enough, I suppose. A wide streak of silver. He should have known
better than to get into a fix like this.”

“Ah.
Huh,” was all Calli could think of to say. She took a couple of steps toward
the little girl who was only clothed in what looked like a long slip, and the
child cringed, putting thin, bruised arms over her head. Hiding. “Oh, boy,”
Calli said, tamping down on anger. “I don’t like your acquaintance much.”

“No.”

“She
sure doesn’t want me. Why don’t you try?”

Marrec
let out a sigh, lowered himself to the floor and inched toward the girl, who
was peeping around her elbow. She trembled.

He
stopped.

Song.
Could a lullaby help? That might be a good idea, but Calli couldn’t think of
one offhand. She sure didn’t recall anyone singing one to her. Shit.

She
could hum, though. Hum something. To her surprise the first song that came to
mind was “I Ride An Old Paint.” Now, she’d heard that sometimes as a kid. It
was sort of slow. So she began to hum that.

Marrec
tossed her a look, frowned.
Do we know any songs in common?

Only
our own.

He
smiled at that, glanced at the little girl, crept forward a few steps on hands
and knees. The child watched with wide eyes. Calli hummed a little louder.
Marrec slowly walked forward. Finally when he was within the girl’s reach, he
stopped. They stared at each other.

Tentatively,
the babe reached out and patted his nose.

Marrec
smiled.

Gaze
darting to Calli, then back to Marrec, the little girl’s lips curved. She
grabbed the strands of hair that fell around his face.

Good
going, kid. That’s nice, feeling stuff.

Minutes
rolled by and both Calli and Marrec remained still, unthreatening. Finally the
child squirmed a bit, held up her hands to Marrec.

He
picked her up.

Calli
exhaled slowly.

Marrec
went to a two-person sofa and sat cradling the toddler.

“How’s
she feel?” asked Calli.

He
smiled, slow and sweet. “Good. She feels good.”

Swallowing,
Calli sat next to them.

The
little girl’s face crumpled.

Calli
scooted to the end of the small couch, not far, but it seemed to relieve the
little girl. She stuck her thumb in her mouth and Calli thought about bacteria.
Heaven knew what sort of dirt was on that thumb. She didn’t have that much
experience with kids. Yearned for them, yes, practical experience, no. Would the
child still be on a bottle? Surely not. What did they use?

She
sent the question…a montage of images from Earth about babies to Marrec.

The
little girl blinked owlishly.

Calli
decided to hum again. The child burrowed into Marrec, closing her eyes. Calli
figured that was a good sign. She wondered what would happen if she sent the
little girl Power as she had when the horses were frightened. Touching the
toddler’s mind might not be a good thing. Could she fashion something like a
warm mood…an emotional blanket to reassure the girl?

Pairling,
Marrec
whispered in her mind.

Moving
her gaze from the child to her husband’s face, she saw his smile widen.
I
recall when my younger brothers fell asleep so fast, so deeply.

Yes,
the girl was sound asleep. Marrec’s vague childhood memories touched her.

If
the little girl was helping Marrec remember the good of his past, then she was
already a boon to them.

“I’ll
go to the kitchen and see what we might have for food. Pick up some soft cloths
for diapers,” he murmured, slowly shifting the girl.

“I
can—”

He
put the sleeping child into her arms. “Hold our child.”

Calli
looked up at him with suddenly swimming eyes. The warm little body filled her
arms, lodged in her heart. She had a child now, one who would love her. Her dreams
were coming true.

24

T
heir arrival at
the manor near the previous day’s battle with the baby caused a big commotion.
Calli couldn’t help herself from discreetly checking out male Chevaliers who
might look like the child, but she knew everyone. Only what she’d come to think
of as the core group remained and she already knew that neither Faucon nor Koz
would give up a child…and neither was married. She’d gotten that much
information from Marrec.

To
her surprise, the rest of the older Marshalls had flown in, and so had Marwey,
who organized everything for the little girl, including finding a former
Chevalier of the place as a babysitter/guard. The feycoocus were there, too,
and they Sang approval of the whole business. Marwey used the magical beings to
send word to Seeva and have one of the bedrooms in Calli and Marrec’s suite
turned into a nursery.

The
war council didn’t take long and the only conclusion it came to was that more
retrousse battles were probable.

Calli
and Marrec had already decided that was likely, and had held each other through
the night, dozing and thinking about what being fighting Chevaliers would be
like with a family.

With
more guts than she thought she had, Calli accompanied Marrec to the dreeth
they’d killed. Marian and Jaquar, who had taken part in the discussion, were
surveying the dead flying dinosaur. Marian looked a little pale.

The
battlefield itself looked…serene. Calli’d known that the fallen humans were
always quickly absorbed by the land and swallowed hard as she found the grass
greener in certain spots…then shuddered as she saw the burnt areas. Yet, she
sucked in a big breath as she walked to the dreeth.

As
she drew near, anger and resolve burned within her. This monster had wanted to
kill—Marrec, herself, anyone it could. That was the sole purpose of its life.

And
its appearance matched its intention. It was ugly.

“Good,”
Jaquar said, “you’re here.” He gestured to the dreeth and green lines glowed on
it. “I’ve designated the cuts for maximum skin.”

Calli
swallowed. “You want anything?”

“Teeth
and claws are always good for spells,” Marian said.

“Eyes—”
Jaquar started.

Both
women shuddered.

“My
apologies.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t think we need eyes today.”

Calli
didn’t even want to know what eyes might be useful for. She watched as Marrec
took out a huge knife, set the point into the shoulder and drew it down. To her
amazement, the skin cut easily, magically. More Power. Huh.

“A
bespelled blade,” Marian murmured.

Nodding,
Marrec made short work of the butchering. Bracing herself, Calli unsheathed the
knife Marrec had put on the Bonding Table and touched one to a tooth. Only a
tap had them falling into her hand.

“Well
done,” Marrec said, folding the nearly bloodless—ichorless—skin and tucking it
under his arm. He eyed the dreeth. “There’s enough skin for leathers for you, a
tunic for me and the rest can be sold as outer covering for hats.”

“Hats?”
asked Jaquar.

Marrec
spared him a glance. “Dreeth hats are all the rage in the city-states. Carried,
mostly, not worn.” He lifted a shoulder. “To impress others.”

“Conspicuous
consumption,” Marian said.

“I
guess,” Calli said. “It will pay the bills.”

“For
sure.” Marian’s smile gleamed. “You’ll have plenty for that house of yours, and
your new baby, Mama.”

Warmth
bloomed in Calli’s heart, suffusing her, making her blush. Both men watched.
She sniffed. “Thank you.”

A
shout came from the other end of the battlefield. Marwey hopped up and down,
waving her arms.

Salutations,
Calli,
sent Thunder.

Having
him here, too, was comforting.
Hello, Thunder.

I
have brought a carry sacque for The Daughter.

There
was a loud snort, mental and physical, from Dark Lance.
I will carry The
Daughter. She doesn’t like Calli.

“Thanks
a lot,” Calli muttered, the warmth of motherhood leaving her for harsh reality.
Marrec’s arm came around her waist as they walked with Jaquar and Marian to the
manor house.

Once
there, Calli checked Dark Lance’s wound and energy level, while Marrec trotted
into the house to collect the baby. Calli was standing outside the stables with
the saddled and bridled volarans when Thealia strode up. The Swordmarshall’s
eyes flashed with a mixture of emotions. “What has gotten into you that you are
adopting a young child after only a night with her?”

Calli
had known Thealia could be blunt, but hadn’t been on the receiving end before.
She sent the woman a cool glance. “I have a husband. We want children. You
fought when your children were young, didn’t you?”

“The
circumstances were not the same. There were occasional small incursions of the
horrors. That was all.” Her mouth folded into pinched lines.

“It’s
too bad that you Marshalls didn’t prevent the current conditions,” Calli said.
“But that’s past and Marrec and I deserve to shape the life we want, just as
you and your bondmate did when you were young.”

Marian,
standing tall next to Calli, said, “Everyone knew that Calli and Marrec were
going to adopt children.”