Protector of the Flight (38 page)

Calli
would stay behind, learning, training, meeting. She loathed it, but felt that
was
her
duty. Unable to stay with Marrec as he worked with his squires,
she walked the perimeter of the large camp, finally stopping on a low ridge to
the northwest of the rising city, still pondering her decisions. Like it or
not, she felt she owed the volarans, the Exotiques, the Chevaliers for giving
her their trust.

She
stood on the hill for a while, and when she looked down, she blinked. Though
Calli hadn’t known what to expect, the colorful tents surprised her. The
Lladranan forces may not have lived in the field for some time, but they knew
what they were doing. Seeva and Marwey had been the primary designers of the
city.

The
camp had been set up, with tents in angled lines—of a star, a pentagram. At the
end of the points were fires—common areas. The walkways were along the points,
down to a center pentagon where large canvas pavilions stood. Between the arms
and upper point were volaran areas. Interesting.

With
that thought, she looked for Marian and Jaquar’s pavilion, with a flag showing
a whirlwind casting off lightning bolts. Their tent marked the entrance to the
southeastern point, slightly outside the cluster of the Marshalls’ pavilions in
the middle of the pentagon.

In
the exact center of everything was the largest pavilion of several rooms. It
shone as if it were truly made of malachite—Thealia Germaine’s and her Shield’s
tent. It might even have an inside fire, though that sounded scary to Calli.
She supposed Power would handle any fire.

The
smallest pup tents, standard issue for the lowest of Chevaliers, were near the
end of the points. The size got larger as they approached the middle…generally.
Calli noticed a big tent ruining the symmetry near the top of the northern
point. Since a flag—with red trident, a Maserati trident—waved, she figured it
was Koz’s and snorted.

Narrowing
her eyes, she could see the black and silver of her new tent, with a flag
sporting a flying volaran, on the opening to the east point. Their pavilion had
two rooms. One for sleeping and one for gathering. She glanced at the evening
sky and sniffed the air. No sign of rain, and that was good.

Seeva
called up to her. “Calli, I have someone I want you to meet!” She and her
companion, a middle-aged man only a little overweight, climbed the hill. Calli
cursed inwardly, slapped a smile on her face. She’d seen the guy in passing,
the owner of this land, a noble. “Sleaze” alarm bells went off inside her.

Calli
wasn’t used to slick opportunists in Lladrana. She’d run across the revulsion
reaction, of course, had been condescended to by the rich, arrogant and
haughty, but hadn’t met anyone where she’d wanted to shower after being in
their presence. Probably because the folk she associated with were
dedicated—obsessed—with defeating the invading Dark. Landowners that
didn’t
fight with the Marshalls and Chevaliers she didn’t meet.

By
the time they’d arrived, Calli had set her personal Shields high and wrapped
her Song tight. Seeva had linked arms with the man, her attitude one of
pleasure with a hint of seduction. “Calli Gardpont, may I present Threo
Veenlit, the lord of this land. He’s generously offering it for our
encampment.”

Not
that generously. Calli herself had handed over three prime dreeth claws, and
both Lady Hallard and Swordmarshall Thealia had exited the “negotiations” with
pinched mouths.

Calli
inclined her torso. Seeva frowned at her and Calli reluctantly offered her
hand.

“Ah,
another Exotique.” Lord Veenlit took her fingers in his soft, damp hand, tried
a mindprobe and, when that didn’t work, slithered his own Song along hers to
read. Natural enough, Calli supposed, after all they were on his land, but it
felt rude.

Even
with a physical connection, she heard little of his Song—some brassy notes that
actually sounded like a donkey braying. She smiled genuinely.

His
heavy features returned the smile. “Quite, quite unusual coloring. Stunning,”
he said, eyelids lowered but still showing a gleam of sexual calculation.

Withdrawing
her hand, Calli said. “I thank you again.”

“Not
at all, not at all.” He waved her words away. “I met your husband, a very
excellent Chevalier.”

“Yes,
he is.”

Veenlit
chuckled. “He was looking for Lord Faucon Creusse, but I don’t think that one
has arrived yet.”

Veenlit
would make it his business to know when one of the wealthiest Lords of Lladrana
arrived. “I still don’t see Creusse’s pavilion.” His eyes glittered avid
satisfaction as he surveyed the small village below. Then he scowled. “What’s
that?”

“Exotique
Circlet Marian Harasta Dumont’s pavilion,” Calli said.

“I
authorized no Circlets on my land!”

Sounded
as if Marian would have to do her work of integrating Circlets with nobles
again.

Well,
surely there was one thing the man respected. “I’m sure you can negotiate with
the Circlets for rent,” Calli said.

He
jerked straight as if he were a puppet on a string, rubbed his hands. “Quite
true, quite true.” Absentmindedly he bowed to Calli, his gaze still on Marian
and Jaquar’s tent. “Honored,” he said. “You will see me and my chief Chevalier,
Raoul Lebeau, in camp.” He pointed to a gaudy pavilion of red and yellow just
inside the entrance to the northern star point. His sigil was a dagger.

“You’re
going to stay here?”

He
nodded. “My manor is quite a ways from here, alas.” Making a quick bow, he
said, “Until later,” then descended the hill.

Seeva
started after him, but Calli stopped her with a hand to her arm. “Seeva, how
could you associate with him? He’s greedy, only after what he can get.”

The
younger woman lifted her chin. “At least he’s honest about that. He’s not being
a savior. He sees his Chevaliers as
people,
not counters on a game
board, not expendable. And for me, that’s refreshing.”

The
man was sleazy. Calli didn’t know “sleazy,” in Lladranan.

But
Seeva was on a roll. “And he listens to me. That’s damn refreshing, too.”

“You’re
Head of Staff of Horseshoe Hall.”

Her
face fell into dissatisfied lines. “When I wasn’t shaping up to be an
extraordinary Chevalier and disappointing my mother, I turned to what I did
better, which was managing the household.” She grimaced again. “Not even the
whole estate, like you and Marrec do, just the
household.
Then there was
an opening in Horseshoe Hall and Mother brought me in over everyone else.” Her
arms crossed. “Which made a lot of people dislike me, and my job a hundred
times worse. I haven’t even won my reins, I may never have it in me to win my
reins. I’ve been a Chevalier in name only. People hate me.”

Calli
had seen no evidence of that—but she’d been living in a little sheltered world
of her own.

Seeva
sniffed, met Calli’s gaze. “I have never been able to do exactly what I want.”

Well,
who had? Calli fumbled for words. “And how does being with Lord Veenlit change
that?”

Lip
curling, Seeva said, “My skills have brought me here, and he can give me what I
want.”

“Which
is?”

“A
home of my own, if I work it right.” Her laugh was bitter. “One thing that
Mother has given me—prominence in the noble circles. I may even be able to get
some sort of dowry like my sisters.”

“Seeva!”
Veenlit called, hovering outside the Circlets’ tent. Obviously he wanted her to
smooth any transaction.

She turned
on her heel and went toward him, leaving Calli in the dying daylight.

A
tremor of fear shivered through Calli at the thought that this could be
Diaminta in twenty years as she herself focused on the continuing fight for
Lladrana, ignoring her daughter. Her fingers clenched. No, that would not
happen. She would not let that happen.

Not
then and not now. Her small progress with Diaminta was disenheartening, but
she’d continue. Slow and easy. She would not physically abandon her daughter as
her own mother had her. She would not emotionally abandon her daughter as her
father had her.

There
had to come a time when she believed her duty to the volarans and Chevaliers
was done—except for training. Then she’d put her family first. And why did that
echo so hollowly?

By
the time she walked down the hill, Veenlit was exiting the Circlets’ pavilion,
a small leather bag firmly in his grasp. Seeva murmured goodbyes, then both of
them angled toward Calli. She stifled a sigh. When they met, another man joined
them, wearing red and yellow. Calli blinked and blinked again at him. His was
the most exquisite male face she’d seen on Lladrana, including Luthan Vauxveau
and Faucon Creusse, both handsome men.

“Raoul
Lebeau,” Lord Veenlit said, smiling.

The
Chevalier bowed gracefully before Calli. “Welcome to my Lord’s lands, Bella
Dama,” he said in a well-modulated voice.

She
could do nothing but let him brush a kiss on her fingers, though she was
getting bad vibes from him, too.

“Raoul,
we part ways here. Walk the Lady Exotique to her pavilion.”

“My
pleasure.”

Calli
said good-night to Seeva and Veenlit, ignoring the fact that he and Seeva went
into his tent together, and said nothing when Raoul tried to amuse with his
comments on others. The Chevalier wasn’t snide or malicious, and might well
have made her smile if she’d been in a better mood. She managed a polite
dismissal when they reached her tent, and stepped back before he could do
anything more.

Lifting
the flap, she entered and stopped when she saw a huge, foot-long hamster
sitting on her weapons chest. She cleared her throat.
Salutations,
Tuckerinal.

“Salutations,
Calli,” he squeaked in perfect Lladranan.

“Why
are you here?”

He
smiled and it warmed her heart. “To sing you to sleep.”

She
stared at him. “Sing me to sleep?”

“Ayes.”

“Oh-kay.”
She went into the bedroom and undressed. When she turned down the covers of the
mattress and slipped onto the bed, feeling all the aches of her body as she
settled, he opened his mouth. “Shenandoah” rolled out, played by a full
orchestra, that melded into a hauntingly beautiful tune that had tears stinging
her eyes. She was so far from ho—Earth, caught in an alien land.

Thunder’s
mind touched hers, content and supportive, and she sensed more volarans, too.
She swallowed. She loved the volarans. Loved Lladrana.

Loved
Marrec and her child. Perhaps she should abandon the camp and go home—to her
true home, here in the Lladranan mountains.

It
is not yet time for you to
only
teach and train,
Tuckerinal said, even
as his rounded mouth poured out a slow country waltz. She turned her head and
saw his big, protuberant eyes gleaming, yet they held wisdom and sadness.
Not
yet time.

Not
yet time,
whispered Thunder in her mind.

Not
yet time,
said Sinafinal.

Her
heart ached, and sleep claimed her.

Marrec
came to her. He slipped in, his skin cool with night, and she turned to him and
warmed him.

His
steady, caressing touch on her, stroking her to arousal, brought futile tears.
She touched him, too, telling him with her fingers, with the rising notes of
her personal Song that melded with his, that she loved him, though she couldn’t
say the words. The deep richness of their Song echoed long in her mind after
he’d fallen asleep in her arms.

T
he next morning
when the tent filled with the tension of their disagreement and low, angry
voices, it was as if the tender night had never been.

“This
new tent is another expense.” He locked his hands behind his back.

She
started to apologize, stopped. Just for a moment he reminded her of her father.
“We are needed here.”

“Alexa
is needed here. She’s a fighter first and foremost, that’s why she was
Summoned.”

She
turned to him, wanted to touch him, wanted the affection that had flowed
between them. God help her, she’d become addicted to that, and now it was gone.
“It’s not for long, just until we find out why the horrors are targeting this
area.”

“To
draw us in—you and me—to kill us.”

“We
don’t know that for sure.”

He
shrugged. “Don’t you think I’ve noticed the miasma that has surrounded us at
the Castle, on the battlefield? No open attacks, just…an evil pressure.”

“What?”

“You
haven’t realized that?”

“I…no.”
She was shaken and it came out as stiffness in her voice, an obvious accent. “I
don’t always recognize nuances of Power.”

He
took her hands, his eyes shadowed. “The Dark
wants
us here. I don’t like
that we’ve accommodated it.”