Red Rope of Fate (8 page)

Tari straightened up and took a step towards the captain. “Are you sure you’re fine? You seem…”

“Of course I’m sure,” Arion said.

One of his men winced at the thunderous voice Arion used, but Tari was not dissuaded. Whatever had been pulling her in this direction had quieted the second she set eyes on Arion. “How was your morning?”

“I dealt with inferior underlings. I’m no longer amazed by the attack against you. I’m surprised there hasn’t been a kidnapping on the palace grounds before due
to the sloppy work of the Honor Guard,” Arion said.

The guard at his left arm blushed.

Tari tilted her head, still trying to interpret Arion’s body language. She could tell that something was
off
. “Will you still come to tonight’s drinking party?”

Arion finally cracked a half smile, but the gesture looked like it pained him. “It’s called evening tea.”

“We do not sip tea, we drink wine. It’s a drinking party,” Tari insisted.

“Yes, I will be attending tonight’s royal evening tea,” Arion said, briefly raising his gloved hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“You have a headache,” Tari declared when it dawned on her.

Arion paused. “Pardon?”

“You have a headache. That’s why you’re acting like a grouch.”

“Perhaps, but it is not very bad—“

“Do not try to lie to me, bond partner of mine. I can’t read your emotions but I can certainly tell when you are in pain. Now turn around.”

“What?”

“Turn around. You have a headache because the muscles at the base of your skull are stiffened.”

Arion stared at Tari, who refrained from rolling her
eyes and sighed. “You can be so thick, very well then. This is going to be awkward,” Tari said before moving closer to Arion.

Tari
propped her arms on Arion’s shoulders, her eyes narrowed in concentration as she blindly ran her fingers along the back of Arion’s neck. When she found twin grooves at the base of his skull she slid the thumb and pointer finger of her right hand in them and tilted Arion’s head backwards with her left hand.

Arion stiffened—the small muscles at the base of his skull
were pinched between Tari’s fingers and the muscles of his neck.

“Relax,” Tari said. “The pain will subside.”

Arion swallowed—the only sign that the prodding was excruciatingly painful, and after several heartbeats his muscles relaxed.

Tari held the position until her arms ached. She removed her fingers and rubbed Arion’s neck before stepping back. “Better?”

Arion inhaled and tipped his head slightly, staring at the ceiling of the corridor. “Much,” he said, surprised.

“When you’re tense you stiffen your muscles—which can cause headaches. Relaxing the muscles gets rid of the headache,” Tari said.

Arion
tentatively rubbed the back of his neck. “I see. Thank you, Tari,” he said before smiling slightly.

Tari couldn’t help but grin back. Arion’s rarely used smile greatly lessened the stoniness of his features and added a light to his otherwise turbulent eyes.

Arion glanced at the garden in the courtyard before straightening. “I need to go, but thank you, Tari,” Arion said with a comely bow.

“I’ll see you this evening,” Tari said
, stepping aside.

Arion started dow
n the corridor, his steps quick but not nearly as heavy as his cape swirled behind him.

Tari nodded in satisfaction, but startled when she realized Arion’s
men hadn’t followed him.

The three
guards lined up in front of Tari. Tari could see they were younger than her with bright eyes and excited expressions. They chattered at her for a moment and Tari blinked before performing the “cannot understand” gesture, which silenced them with dismay.

“Ahh,” soldier one said playing with his hands for a moment.

The second soldier snapped and executed the gesture for “help meet,” before saying, “Hero.”

Tari
laughed as all three guards nodded emphatically and repeated the gesture for help meet over and over.

“Hero,” they insisted
as they babbled in Calnoric.

“Our hero,” the first one said.

“Men,” Arion said, his voice warning as he called to them.

His men rushed past Tari, crashing down the hallway like ungainly puppies. It wasn’t until they were around the corner that Tari realized she understood the
Calnoric word for hero.

Chapter 5

New Vocabulary & Storming Teas

Tari
sipped her tea before shifting her eyes to the teapot as the translator droned on in Calnoric. Truth be told the refreshments were one of the main reasons she attended the meetings with the translators and enchanters—they brewed fantastic teas.
There must be a way to ask for more without appearing rude
.

Tari stared at the porcelain teapot, shocked out of her wits when Arion leaned forward from his position next to her on the settee. He plucked the teapot off the lacquer tray, refilled Tari’s cup, and replaced the teapot—earning a large smile from Tari.

Tari happily took another sip, looking up when the translator switched to elvish.

“—
cannot tell you how excited we are to have you two. We understand that a bond such as yours should not be abused, but we are hoping you will help us in the Translators’ Circle,” said an excited looking older man. His counterpart—a haunted looking scholar that had interviewed Tari and Arion for hours on end to search for any sort of connection between them—vacantly stared at the wall. He was badly in need of sleep, judging by the dark circles under his eyes.

An elf translator stood behind the pair, nodding in agreement as he fussed with his hair.

“What would you ask us to do?” Arion asked, narrowing his eyes.

Tari turned to her small plate of cookies as the translator switched back to
Calnoric for Arion’s sake. She selected a lemon tart and transferred it to Arion’s empty plate before consuming a sinfully rich chocolate truffle.

“Safeguard,”

Tari looked up when she understand the random human word. Since meeting Arion’s men she had learned a handful of additional words. It always happened without warning, and the word choice was rather unusual. The last set of words Tari had learned was “Sweet cakes.” That particular pair was acquired from King Petyrr.

Arion ate the tart as he listened to the translator, his expressionless face giving nothing away. When the translator finished, Arion looked to Tari. The translator opened his mouth to restart the lecture in elvish, but Arion beat him to the punch.
“They want us to spend a day a week discussing topics picked out for us by the head of the Translators’ Circle and our monarchs.”

“That sounds
an awful lot like a social engagement.”

“Agreed.”

“Tell them we’re too busy,” Tari suggested.

“Good idea.”

The haunted looking translator coughed bashfully to draw their attention to him. He produced two lists written out in fine scripts on pieces of birch paper.

“Healing remedies, animal husbandry, cloth production, architecture,
schooling systems,” Tari read in elvish

Arion read the
Calnoric script. “Customs, festivals, history, music, I don’t understand. These sound like research topics.”

The elf translator nodded. “It is. We translators work
diligently to grasp the foundations of our languages, and we devote most of our learning to every day conversation and the terms of politics. We do not have the time or ability to learn the specialized terms that are required for discussing these topics. It would take years to properly learn—or invent—the appropriate terms that would allow for information exchange.”

The human translator spoke to Arion, giving him a similar speech no doubt, before adding for Tari. “Additionally, although our countries are so closely knit we do not of
ten visit each other’s territories. This is partially because Haven makes it unnecessary—the seats of both governments most often reside here. Additionally, as your protectors and guardians it would be… invasive if we humans were to enter Lessa for scholarly purposes.”

“These topics, they were chosen by our Kings? His Majesty King Petyrr and My King Celrin wish for us to share this information?” Tari asked.

“Yes. There will be no translation barrier between you two. You will simply know from your
souls
,” the human translator said, his eyes dewing up as he triumphantly clenched his fists.

Tari sipped her tea and looked at Arion.

The captain sighed and nodded to Tari.

“We agree,” Tari
said to the translators. The humans and the elf exchanged smiles before standing to slap one another on the back as Tari returned her attention to Arion. “But I insist our first topic of conversation must be tea. This brew is simply
fantastic
. Do you have any idea what flavoring is it?”

“It’s breakfast tea,” Arion said. “Common black tea, we produce it by the boatloads. The flavor you’re referring to is the cream and sugar.”

Tari looked down at her cup. “You add cream and sugar to
tea
?”

“Yes, not the
herbal and spice teas you elves make, but we add them to our black teas. They taste more palatable that way,” Arion said, rising off the settee.

“I must ask Evlawyn to learn more about it. It’s delicious,” Tari declared, also standing.

“Much better than our wine-swill?”

“You are never
going to forget that are you? Yes, a thousand times better than your wines.”

The following day Tari
walked the walls of the palace with Arion, her hands clasped behind her back as they followed an open air corridor. They were on their way to inspect an afternoon patrol.

“Does anyone mind that I trail after you when you are working?” Tari abruptly asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Do your superior officers feel that I get in the way
when I prance through your office and trail after you on your inspections?”

Arion cast Tari a glance. “Do you truly believe anyone would complain that
we
are spending time together?”

Tari smiled slightly. “No, not when you say it like that. But it is possible that some would think I am nothing but a distraction when you are on duty.”

Arion snorted. “I am sure even if someone was insipid enough to entertain such thoughts they would never be stupid enough to voice them.”

Tari laughed
and Arion’s lips quirked into a slight grin.

The captain paused before asking, “Do you mind that your life has been rerouted?”

“You mean do I mind that I no longer serve any real purpose?” Tari dryly asked. “…No. I would not trade being bonded for the Continent.”

Arion raised his eyebrows in slight disbelief.

“You think I am lying? Ah, then
you
must wish you were free, unfettered, and unbounded. How cruel!” Tari declared before chuckling at her own melodrama. Arion rolled his eyes as they turned a corner of the corridor and Tari reached out to link her arm with his.

They almost mowed over a short, squat, elderly man who carried a staff as if it were a
weapon rather than a tool for walking assistance.

“Wizard
Edvin, we apologize,” Arion said, reaching out with his free arm to help steady the short man.

The wizard pushed his eyebrows—which wer
e so thick they could almost be called bushes—up his forehead. “Arion,” was the only word Tari recognized before she was lost in a storm of human words.

Tari frowned slightly as she tried to place him. “Oh,” she said when it hit her. “You were—he was one of the wizards that served at our Nodusigm ceremony,” Tari said before quickly executing the sign gesture for “Nodusigm binding.”