Protector of the Flight (17 page)

Northwest
of the Castle.

She’d
have to look at a map. That brought her thoughts of the Map Room and the
invading hordes.

You
haven’t been in battle before?
she asked, touching a rein for Thunder
to turn around. They headed north back to the Castle.

Not
partnered with a Chevalier,
Thunder said. A fear-laden memory flooded him. He
tucked his legs up, and Calli saw him with a group of other volarans, more
stallions than mares, young and in the shadow of mountains. Fighting horrors.
Distorted images of the monsters she’d seen in the tavern attacked the
volarans. Some fell. Thunder screamed as he kicked a soul-sucker’s head to
explode like a pumpkin, whinnied again in fear as he felt brain matter on his
hooves.

Easy!
She forced the
memory away. Thunder’s body rippled, but he hadn’t panicked and that was good.
She figured he might in a real battle, though. All of the volarans had done so
in that long-ago battle, flown high and fast and far back to Volaran Valley,
covered in sweat.

My
testing flight. Only the strong and proven can live in Volaran Valley.

Calli
agreed with what she imagined Alexa saying, “Shit, does every single being in
Lladrana have to be tested?”

Yes.
We live in perilous times,
answered Thunder.
Those of my age who did not
kill a horror had to live outside the herd or fly to a human place.

That
gave Calli plenty to think of. So many of the Chevaliers’ and Marshalls’ mounts
were culls?

Marshalls
fly with volarans raised by Bastien, he teaches them to partner with people and
fight when they are young.

Oh.

Easier
in some ways,
Thunder said as they flew over the southernmost of the three Castle courtyards.
He lowered himself to a small free spot on the Landing Field packed with
unbridled flying steeds.
All volarans are out here to say they love you
before you go to choose a mate. They want you to choose their partner.

Oh,
boy.

They
pressed against her, rubbing, whuffling at her hair, butting at her and she
felt a myriad of Songs from each.
Choose mine. Choose mine. Choose mine.
But under all their pleas she felt the love with every brush of each body,
warming her, reassuring her, inundating her. She was
theirs.

“Coming
through!” called Alexa, baton out and raised like a torch, flaring green light.
The mass of volarans parted. Marian, more Amazonian than Alexa, followed,
smiling. When Alexa reached Calli, she grabbed Calli’s left arm. “I’ll have my
squire care for Thunder.”

“Fine,”
Calli said. She frowned. “Will I get a squire?”

“For
sure,” Alexa said. “We Exotiques are wonderful to work for, or hadn’t you
heard? You’ll have a stampede to your door.”

A
loud bong echoed over the Castle. It came from the alarm tower. Calli tensed.

Marian
took her other arm and patted it, but now a crease dipped between her brows.
“Not a battle alarm. Just the bell marking two hours before sunset and your
Choosing and Pairing. We’re running late.”

“Just
a few minutes, chill!” said Alexa.

“It’s
time for the purification,” Marian said, increasing their pace.

“Purification!”
Calli’s voice rose.

Alexa
squeezed her arm. “Bath.”

“Oh.”
Her pulse didn’t slow. Everything she’d been pushing out of her mind, blocking
from her own emotions, rushed back.

At
Alexa’s and Marian’s urging, the Marshalls had partitioned a small hot-springs
tub in the basement of the Keep from the rest of the room with a fancy wooden
screen. Calli was allowed a private bath, but was too tense to relax and soak
in the water scented with herbs. Qualms fluttered like butterflies—hell, like
volarans—in her stomach. She
did
want a man and a family. Of course,
that would be the most fulfilling part of her life, especially since money and
a ranch of her own were guaranteed. This whole thing was like winning the
lottery. She could have it all!

Of
course, there were drawbacks. Instead of taxes on the money and real estate,
there were more emotional-type taxes. She was promising to train horses and work
with volarans and riders. She was promising to fight the monsters.

She
was promising to stay in Lladrana.

Such
a
huge
decision. But she’d never been any good with letting a decision
dangle, always felt better after she’d made up her mind.

She
was a risk-taker. Marian and Alexa were risk-takers, too, or they wouldn’t be
here. So were the Marshalls and Chevaliers. Face it, everyone around her was a
risk-taker, ready to egg her on.

The
only person she’d met who might be the slow, deliberate type she could talk to
long and hard was the Townmaster, Sevair Masif, who was waiting for her
upstairs. Not exactly impartial. She didn’t want to talk to a man about this
either.

Splashes
and laughing and waves of excited auras of red and yellow and white filtered
through the screen to Calli. Yep, everyone was pushing her. Probably because it
was the Lladranans’ passivity that had led to this mess—now they were
overreacting and going all aggressive. Which, in Calli’s opinion, was the right
thing to do.

More
splashing from the other side of the screen. “Calli, you okay?” called Alexa.

Calli
had to wet her lips before she could answer. “Feeling a little crazy.”

“You
don’t have to do anything you don’t want,” Alexa said.

“We’ll
stand by any decision you care to make,” Marian said.

She’d
heard enough of Alexa’s and Marian’s stories on the ride back to the Castle to
know they meant it. Everyone had given Marian a lot of leeway when she’d been
determined to learn a cure for her brother’s disease and take info back to
Earth. Marian had made it clear from the start that she’d return to Earth.

Calli
had already said she’d stay. “What’s the worse that could happen?” she
muttered, but not quietly enough.

“You
could get trapped in a marriage with the wrong guy forever,” Marian said, as if
she, too, was considering all Calli’s options. Marian, the one who was
emotionally bound to her guy forever. Who’d die when he did.

“Well,
if the magic goes wrong and she lands a real creep, I could kill him for ya,”
Alexa offered cheerfully.

Calli
thought she must be joking. But that thought did lead to the question of how
long her lifespan could be. Days.

Days
spent with a husband, hopefully loving and…sexy. Days spent flying on volarans.
That was worth any shortening of her life. A life now free of pain.

Voices
murmured, then a deeper voice, Thealia, leader of the Marshalls, said something
and Marian translated. “You and your mate will choose your land tomorrow
morning.”

Oh,
yeah. That didn’t settle Calli down, but it did point out another big advantage.
A spread of her own that she wouldn’t have to fight her dad for. That she could
run the way she wanted, equip the way she wanted. Money for the ranch. Advice
from everyone. She had people who were fast becoming better friends than she’d
ever had.

A lighter
voice came. Calli recognized it as Clua’s, the Marshall who’d done the Choosing
and Bonding ritual herself. Marian said, “Clua promises you the Choosing Ritual
works.”

Calli
recalled how those two Marshalls loved each other. She
did
want love.
Above all, she wanted a family and love. Soon her friends would love her like a
sister, she was sure. She could make a place here where people would love her.

The
volarans already loved her.

Earth
seemed a very cold and lonely place.

M
arrec met Seeva,
Lady Hallard’s daughter, a Chevalier trainee, in the corridor of Horseshoe
Hall. Hands on her hips, she was chewing her lip. When she saw him, she smiled
and he returned it. Unlike her mother, the lady he swore allegiance to, Seeva’s
manner was outgoing and generous.

“I
can’t decide,” she said. “I’ve prepared the North Curved Suite on the uppermost
floor in case the new Exotique wants a good view of the hills and the river and
the forest, but perhaps she’d rather be in a tower—both the other Exotiques
seem to like towers. But Horseshoe Hall doesn’t have towers, so she’d have to
bunk somewhere else and then she’d be separate from us, the Chevaliers. Mother
would not be pleased.”

He
blinked, then remembered that Seeva had been given the job of managing the
Hall—which had put a few noses out of joint. Since he was a man of low status
he’d been out of that internal political skirmish.

Again
she nibbled her full bottom lip. “Mother’s moving from the Noble Apartments and
she’ll want prime space, too.”

“Hmm,”
Marrec said. He had one small room in the least favored part of the building.

She
laughed. “I’m running on. But what do you think, would the Exotique want a
suite with a view or a tower or an Inner Curved Courtyard Suite on the ground
level closer to the stables?”

He
had no idea. Didn’t care the least. Which, since he was on his way to put his
token on the Choosing and Bonding table, might not be a good thing. He
should
care about the Exotique’s—Calli’s—quarters.

“Um,”
he said. “Who wouldn’t want the North Curved Suite?” He thought she deserved
the very best.

“But
being close to the stables? She seems enamored with volarans.”

Marrec
shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Shaking
her head, she said, “Well, it’s too late now.” She frowned. “I really wish
they’d had the Choosing and Bonding Ceremony here in the Hall. If she chooses
someone, they’ll probably go straight to bed and it should be here with the
Chevaliers instead of in the keep.”

That
jolted Marrec. His imagination hadn’t taken him any further than putting an
object in for the Choosing. And he hadn’t even decided what to put there,
either. He touched a polished stone in his pocket that he’d picked up from his
lost farm in the mountains so many years ago. It would be the best offering,
since it Sang of him since childhood, but he disliked putting it on display. No
doubt Faucon would offer something gold or equally expensive. That decided him.
He’d have his best chance to reach her emotionally with the stone.

The
clock in the entry hall bonged the three-quarter hour, reverberating through
every room.

“We’d
better be going. The ritual is soon.” Seeva slipped her arm in his, pulling him
from his brooding.

“You’re
going, too?”

She
patted a pocket. “I have my token right here.”

He
looked down at her. She was young and beautiful and he could feel the strength
of her Power where their bodies met. He certainly found her attractive, why
wouldn’t the Exotique?

“I
heard she’s a manlover,” he said. “And I thought you were, too.” He winced. He
shouldn’t have said that.

With
a sunny smile, Seeva patted his arm. “I like both women and men, and when Power
and the Song is involved, as it is in such an ancient and significant ritual,
who knows what will happen. The Exotique may find she prefers a woman after
all.” She shrugged and Marrec noticed how full and appealing her breasts were.
Yes, there was plenty about Seeva to admire, though he hadn’t seen her fight on
the battlefield, so didn’t know how well her mind marched with other
Chevaliers.

As
soon as they entered the Lower Ward and angled to the gate leading to Temple
Ward and the keep, Marrec saw Lady Hallard striding ahead of them. He dropped
Seeva’s arm.

Seeva
hurried and Marrec had to decide whether he wanted to walk with the Hallard
women or not. But when Lady Hallard looked up and gestured to him, he had no
choice. He lengthened his steps to meet her just as she crossed through the
gate—fully guarded today—and he joined her on the other side of the security
door. One step closer to the Exotique’s Choosing ritual.

13

L
ady Hallard
jerked a nod at him. “Figured you’d be heading for the Choosing. A person must
try and get ahead in life, after all.” She scrutinized him. “I don’t see that
you have anything special for the Choosing table.”

“Mo-ther,
it’s not supposed to be something new and
special,
” Seeva said.

“It
is
supposed to be something that resonates of your personal Song,” Lady Hallard
contradicted. “You’ll probably put that worry stone you always finger on the
table, right?”

Marrec
withdrew his hand from his pocket without the stone that he’d been rubbing.
“Ayes.” His liege-lady was more observant than he’d thought. Though she was
shorter and stockier than he, she set a rapid pace across Temple Ward. “I got
your message that you wanted an appointment with me,” she said.

“Ayes.”
But not now and not with Seeva there. “A private appointment.”