Authors: Robin D. Owens
"I do miss her."
"And you think you should have been closer to her, had more
personal contact," Partis murmured in her hair. "You are blaming
yourself again. Hindsight. We did our best. If we had to do it over again, we
would proceed differently, but that opportunity will not come. Stop thinking,
come to bed and feel."
"You're sure she will return?"
"Yes."
He'd always been better at knowing people than she.
"Alyeka, Bastien, the Marshalls, the sangvile and the battle—horrors
truly invading, coming over our borders in large numbers,
not twos or threes. So much to think about. So much to do.
What do we do next?"
"We go to bed." With strength and magic and Song, he
carried her there.
D
ema and Farentha were the first Chevaliers to show up the next
day, though Farentha was still healing and would not be able to fight. After
that, a few more arrived every day. At first, it was the independent
Chevaliers; then a minor noble Chevalier would come with two or three of his
household. Soon both Bastien's and her own house were filled, and there were
tented encampments around each home.
Bastien had taken on the work of a general and was good at it.
Urvey and Pascal were his devoted staff and Marwey studied defensive magic with
Farentha. Alexa thought she'd be hiring more Chevaliers soon to fight under her
banner, as many as she could pay, though she didn't like the idea of leading
others to death. The only palatable thought was that she wasn't asking them to
do anything she wouldn't do herself.
So Alexa walked the land. One day she found a fallen brithenwood
stick, round and tall enough to be fashioned as a staff. She hefted it, liked
the weight, the slight roughness of bark under her fingers. The Song in it
wasn't quite dead, and as she held it, the tune changed, deepened and
resonated. For a moment a door flickered in her mind. She tried to grasp an
elusive concept, but it vanished. She could only hope the idea would return.
She also trained in fighting and magic, working with Bastien to
function as a team. Now and again she was sent to the nearest border to walk
the line and strengthen it, keeping out the minor evils and single major ones.
She studied the books and made potions, anointing the Chevaliers' weapons with
magic—death magic for the horrors.
All in all, she was satisfied that she was doing her best possible
effort to ensure that when the battle came, Lladrana would have a force to meet
it. Though she mourned for the connection she had had with the Marshalls, she
thought it had been superficial and hoped she was building better friendships
with the Chevaliers.
One morning a week later, she was training with Bastien against
Faucon and another Chevalier when a scream hit her brain.
Alyeka. We need you. We need you now!
The cry came in a tangle of voices inside her head. The Marshalls!
All of them save Reynardus. In her time with them, she'd linked with all of
them except Reynardus.
The shout deafened her, blinded her, and she fell. Breath knocked
out of her, she stared up at Faucon. His sword was at her throat, and he looked
determined.
"You're dead," he said.
She lifted her hands in surrender and he withdrew, but he didn't
offer to help her up from the training ground. Instead, he scowled at Bastien.
"Why didn't you Shield her?"
"It was her fight," Bastien said. "And I won't
Shield her from mistakes she makes on the training ground."
Alyeka! You were right. The army of monsters is massing. We
Marshalls leave the Castle within the hour for the northern border. If you link
with us, we can Summon you here. We go to fight now, before the army is ready.
We have called in all the Chevaliers loyal to us. For the love of Lladrana,
tell those with you to help!
Thealia laughed bitterly.
This
will be a long battle. We will need reinforcements. But with your help, right
now, we might be able to prevent great loss, and strike first. We are calling
on the Sorcerers and Sorceresses too.
"What's wrong?" Faucon asked.
Her breath was back. She sat up. "The battle. It's come. The
Marshalls fly to attack first. They need my help."
One side of Bastien's mouth twitched. "They finally reached
you? I've been hearing them for the last quarter-hour." She gawked.
"You didn't tell me?"
"I didn't listen. I'm not a Marshall. That was a very
short-lived twiddle-tune for me."
"We must go!"
"To fight with them? You have as much experience fighting
with us here—" he gestured to the encampment outside her home "—as
you have linking and fighting with them."
A
sick dread twisted inside Alexa as she searched Bastien's hard
expression. He would not go to the aid of the Marshalls and she could not
refuse to help.
He and she were on opposite sides of a chasm. She knew it, even if
he didn't, and it looked like the crack would fracture their relationship. He
hadn't said he loved her, and she hadn't told him of her love, but she thought
that's what they felt for each other. Could what they had survive what was
coming? Or would she be left alone with the colleagues of Marshalls, but no man
of her own?
Stiffly, she stood and brushed off her pants. She stared at the
Chevaliers who were at the training ground, then lifted her voice. "What
we have prepared for has arrived. The Marshalls leave for the North to strike
at the gathering army."
Faucon glanced at her, then ran to the fence and vaulted over it,
calling for his Chevaliers. Everyone rushed to the tents to prepare for flight
and battle. She and Bastien were left alone. His face was tight with anger.
Alexa rolled her shoulders, sheathed her short sword. "I'm
going to let the Marshalls Summon me to the Castle."
"Why? Why do you go to them, fight with them?"
"They need my help. They will be the first on the scene. With
enough Power, we might forestall a huge battle." She shuddered at the
thought of lost lives. Some would die. Maybe she would, but at least she would
have done her best.
"You're going to
them?"
He sounded completely
disbelieving. He towered over her.
She felt blood drain from her face as she tilted her head up. She
tried to keep her voice steady, cool. "They
are
the best fighters
of Lladrana. They have power and magic. Working with them is the best use of my
skills. They need my help."
"So do we, the Chevaliers here."
Alexa walked to the training yard gate. "I can make more of a
difference with the Marshalls. If we fight well, we can save lives, perhaps the
lives of some of our Chevaliers here."
He grabbed her by the shoulders, his grip hard. "They've
always manipulated you and used you. If you go, they will use you again.
He
will
use you, Reynardus, suck your Power dry, like that damn sangvile. You, the most
important part of his team, he will consider the most expendable."
"I know." Her insides trembled with fear, at the
awareness of fate. "I must go."
Bastien's mind brushed hers, melded, tried to overwhelm. She was
swamped by his tangled emotions—fear for her, love for her, anger at her
blindness, her stubbornness.
She replied with a soft and soothing tone, comforting him, then
she pulled away.
"I can't go with you. He'll use you, and through you, he'll
use me. I can't..."
"I know," she said.
I'm coming,
she sent to
Thealia.
The woman's—and all the Marshalls'—great relief permeated Alexa.
Your
home contains a pentagram
in the southwest room
—
I
know where it is,
Alexa said. She knew every inch of her lovely
home.
"You're really going. To them. Leaving
me
for
them,"
Bastien choked out.
Alexa didn't know how to answer him. Didn't want to put it in
personal terms like that. "You're really staying, coming later with the
Chevaliers, unwilling to be my Shield," she said gently. She'd tried to
block the sickening emotions—feelings that would weaken her. Now wasn't the
time to feel, not even the time to think. Now was the time to act—and to pray
that her training,
all
her training, held true.
He looked like she'd struck him, pallid under his natural tan
skin. He even swayed. She couldn't take the heartbreak in his eyes, the
heartbreak that clutched her insides. She ran back to him, stood on tiptoe,
pulled his head down for a hard kiss of lips and tongue, savoring his taste,
his scent, the strong passionate melody that still wound between them. Then she
broke the kiss and stared into his stormy ebony eyes.
"I love you." She turned and bolted to the house.
She stopped in her room to gather the magical sword she and Bastien
had made, and her fighting leathers and boots of dreeth hide. Her new
brithenwood staff leaned against the wall and her fingers itched. She should
take it into battle.
Alyeka, COME!
the Marshalls cried.
She had her sword and her baton. She pelted to the room with the
pentagram, stood inside it, let her tears flow.
I'm here.
The Song that had swirled her from Colorado to Lladrana enveloped
her again, plucked her from all she loved, to battle and an unknown enemy.
As she landed in the pentacle in the Castle Temple, she noticed
the rhythm was slightly off. She looked up to see nine strained faces.
Reynardus wasn't there.
Thealia rushed over to help her up, steadied her by putting hands
on both shoulders.
Johnsa called, "Alyeka, Luthan is waiting in Temple Ward for
you. The local landowner up North knows you're coming and has an appropriate
horse."
"Where's Reynardus?" Alexa's breath came raggedly.
Apparently the Summoning had primed her for battle already; she recognized the
adrenaline buzz.
Mouth twisting, Thealia hustled Alexa into the pretty spring day.
"Reynardus's volaran left in the night."
"Left? How? Where?" This made no sense.
"Volarans are more than horses. We breed many, but most of
them come from a wild herd and stay with a person, sometimes are controlled by
that person. If they want to leave, nothing will stop them. Reynardus's
left."
It should have been funny, but dread rose in Alexa. She shuddered.
Thealia nodded. "We all have that feeling. The horrors massing—it's
a fateful day and we all know it."
Alexa licked her lips. "Didn't someone offer Reynardus a
volaran?"
"He rejected several. Then nobody offered any more."
Sounded like Reynardus. Alexa found herself nodding. She probably
would be doing a lot of things more by instinct and training than by thinking
today. She didn't want to think.
The past couple of weeks she'd worked with Bastien, and he wasn't
here. The hole eating her insides would distract her if she
thought about it, so she didn't dare. She could block that
emotion as she rode the volaran while flying North. Yes, that could work.
Luthan strode up, face tense. He looked behind her.
"Bastien's not with you?" Glancing at her face, he swore. "Never
dependable."
She managed a weak smile. "He'll be there. As part of the
independent Chevaliers. Just not with me." No voice catching on a sob.
That was good.
"Idiot," Luthan said. He nodded to Thealia. "Mount
up." Then he looked back to Alexa. "We can Pair for the battle. We
work well enough together."
"Wait!" Ivrog strode up. His eyes were clear and fired
with determination. "I'll Pair with the lady." He took her hand in
his and a quick, easy,
strong
bond sang into place.
Luthan stepped back at the Power. "Incredible." He
nodded once, pulled his riding gauntlets from his belt and slipped them on,
smiled fiercely. "I'll see you at the North border, Prevoy's Pointe."
Running, he jumped into the saddle and his volaran wheeled into the sky.
Ivrog tucked Alexa's hand into his arm. "I hope you don't
expect that sort of acrobatics from me."
Some of her tension eased. "No."
But he was tall and walked fast, and she had to scurry to keep up.
"We will have to use distance-magic," Ivrog said. They'd
reached his flying horse and he now boosted her into the saddle. "My Treasure,
here—" he stroked the arch of the mare's neck "— was a gift from
Bastien. I don't use distance-magic very often. She will be pleased to fly
so." His smile was wry. "I only do distance magic when going to a
fight." He sucked in a breath. "And this looks to be the biggest
fight of all." He swung up behind her. "Arise!"
The volaran took off, strong and steady. Alexa rested on Ivrog's
chest behind her. It was like leaning on a sturdy uncle.
Ivrog formed a clear bubble around them.
"I'm going to trance," Alexa said. "I need to block
my emotions regarding Bastien." Again she was proud her voice didn't
quiver.