Read Guardian of Honor Online

Authors: Robin D. Owens

Guardian of Honor (49 page)

Bastien's eyes sharpened. "Which Sorcerer? Did you get his
name?"

Urvey shuffled. "I didn't want to go near him. He's wearing a
maroon robe and has dipped in the jerir, so he came from the Castle."

"Very old?" Bastien seemed to hold his breath.

"About your age. He has blue eyes."

"Ah, Jaquar Dumont." Bastien grabbed her hand and
hustled them back to the manor house.

"Blue eyes? I haven't seen anyone with blue eyes since I've
been here," Alexa said.

Bastien spared a glance for her. "Are they common in the
Exotique Land?"

"Not uncommon where I come from," she said.

"Such eyes are a sign of old Exotique blood," Bastien
said.

"Oh?"

She was glad evening was falling and the light was dim. She hadn't
considered children and didn't want to talk about them now. When she'd first
visited, her butler had said that Exotique blood was rare, that most
Exotique-Lladranan couples produced no children. But now she'd run into it in
two instances—with her home and with this Sorcerer. She hadn't considered birth
control at all, and there was no way she'd go into battle if she was pregnant.
That thought reassured her. Surely the Song, Fate,
whatever,
wanted her to be Joan of Arc, would keep her from
conceiving while she had battles to win, fences to mend,
dragons—pterodactyls—to slay. Alexa hadn't been a believer in destiny in her
former life, but events had made her reconsider.

They reached the impressive front steps and stood under a couple
of huge quartz lamps. Bastien turned her to him, ran his hands down her arms
and straightened her gown, sifted his fingers through her hair. He frowned.

She shook her head at him. "How groomed must I be?"

Bastien shrugged. "You look fine. But Jaquar could help us a
lot. Magical weapons, battle spells. He must know some, or have access to
Lorebooks that do."

Obviously, he thought the Chevaliers would rally so they'd be
ready for a battle when it happened. Since he believed they had a chance of
winning, her natural optimism kicked in. She smiled back at him.

"Ah, we're going to negotiate."

"Oh yes." Bastien rubbed his hands.

"Very interesting," said a man's voice.

Alexa
knew
she hadn't heard the door open, but there the
man stood, just beyond the threshold, door wide open. She couldn't see him
well; he was merely a dark, lean form against the light—and the aura of blue
imparted by a plunge in the jerir. He didn't look as if that event fazed him.

"You want information on magical weapons, perhaps the magical
weapons the Tower has. You want battle spells. It sounds as if you have broken
with the Marshalls, yet you both wear your batons," the Sorcerer said. His
voice wasn't as melodious as Partis's, or even Bastien's, but there was a
muscular Power in it all the same.

Inclining his head, Bastien gestured beyond the man and, to the
left, to the parlor. "Shall we discuss this?"

The Sorcerer narrowed his blue eyes at Bastien and Alexa.
"What can you offer me for spells to make magical weapons and great battle
chants?"

Bastien used one of his charming smiles. Tugging on Alexa, they
walked past Jaquar to the door of the parlor. Bastien opened it for her.

Alexa hesitated, turned to get a good look at the guy. Tall, dark,
handsome. Features slightly more Caucasian and less Asian than most Lladranans.
Deep blue eyes, wavy black hair. Very nice. She put out her hand.

"I'm Alexa Fitzwalter, Marsh—I carry the Jade Baton."

In a couple of strides he closed the space that separated them and
lifted her hand to his lips as he bowed. "Jaquar Dumont, a great
pleasure."

After the courtesy, he kept her hand, and she felt something brush
against her magic. She didn't push back.

Bastien stepped close and slipped an arm around her waist. This
time his smile wasn't charming.

Whoosh!
The shooting-star zoomed down the stairs to hover by the Sorcerer.

He jumped back.

Bastien said, "We have vital information to trade. We killed
a dreeth yesterday. Do you need any dreeth parts? My lady and I are having
fighting leathers made from the dreeth, but there should be plenty of hide
leftover. I also have an atomball in a mace."

"I noticed. As I said before, very interesting." Jaquar
eyed the ball as he moved into the parlor and sat in a huge overstuffed chair
near the fire.

With a whistle, Bastien banished the ball back to their bedroom.

"Would you like anything to eat or drink?" asked Alexa.

Jaquar glanced at Bastien, who'd moved to a sideboard with liquor,
then at Alexa. She was sitting on the love seat across from the chair.
"Your staff made me comfortable in the dining room with an excellent
dinner when I arrived."

The image of a single man at the huge table in the formal dining
room should have seemed ridiculous, but not with this man. His Power would fill
the room. His elegance would match it.

"That must have made them nervous," Bastien said.

"I believe they've come to value their unique mistress and
the man she Paired with—a man who once had very wild magic and was a neighbor
that visited the empty estate often. They barely raised their eyebrows."

"Good." Alexa smiled.

"After-dinner drink?" Bastien asked, pouring himself
brandy in a snifter.

"Thank you, yes," said Jaquar.

Alexa picked up a horn that sat upended on the side table. It was
a real horn of a magical cow or something, and when you spoke into it, the
person you addressed heard you.

"Kitchen," she said. "I'd like some tea and cookies,
please." It hadn't taken her more than ten minutes to learn and pronounce
the word for "cookies."

"Now," Jaquar said, "for your 'vital
information.'"

They told him of the battle.

His face stilled. "What is your best estimate of the
time?"

Alexa gave a helpless gesture. "I don't know." Her smile
was weak. "I was dying at the time."

Jaquar strode over to a bookcase, placed his hand on a half-empty
shelf and curved his hands as if around books, but all he held was air. He
hummed a tune. A moment later three large, red-bound books sat on the shelf.

"Nice trick," Alexa said, and wondered if she could
learn how to do it.

The Sorcerer's smile was crooked, but his eyes gleamed. "Not
so very difficult magic, but the Marshalls don't use it much."

He glanced out the night-dark windows. "I must go, but I
promise the Tower will be at the battle." He frowned. "There will be
at least twelve of us, perhaps more. We will stand with the Chevaliers."

"Do you people always think in twelves? Twelve Marshalls to
Summon me, twelve Sorcerers at the battle?"

Jaquar grinned. "Not exactly. I can think of six who would
like to practice their magical dueling skills, five more who are dedicated to
freeing Lladrana of the horrors, one that owes me a life." He shrugged.
"There may be a few more."

"I hope so," Alexa said. For an embattled nation, they
sure didn't have armies. She wondered what a tank could do to a dreeth. She'd
like to find out. But there was no chance of that.

The small waterfall clock near a window chimed the hour.

"Time for me to go," Jaquar said. "If I might
borrow a volaran with good sight in the dark...?"

Alexa frowned. "I heard you live on an island. Won't you
consider spending the night instead of making a dangerous flight in the dark?
We have plenty of room."

Bastien stood and smiled. "Every flight is dangerous to you,
Alexa. Jaquar will be fine. My mare Inqui has excellent night vision and is
curious enough to enjoy a night flight, not to mention a short stay at a
Sorcerer's Tower."

Staring at Alexa, Jaquar patted his chest and smiled charmingly.
"Something about you, Lady Exotique, pulls at me. So instead of vanishing
into the dark on volaran-back, I'll tell you that I intend to fly only to the
coastal town of Coquille where my parents reside. You may rest easy."

She returned his smile. "Thank you."

Jaquar cocked a brow at Bastien. "As for you, Chevalier, I
will
deliver several magical potions with your volaran,
along with instructions, and perhaps a spare magical weapon or two. I'd like
payment now for the books. I've heard you have a
hat,
made of
soul-sucker."

Bastien relaxed back into the love seat, grinning naturally for
the first time. "I do." He took the little horn and spoke into it.
"Urvey, my soul-sucker hat, please."

A moment later Urvey entered the room, carrying the hat. He gave
it to Bastien, then hurried from the room. Bastien whipped the hat over to
Jaquar.

It had always been the ugliest hat Alexa had ever seen, but
Jaquar's eyes lit up as he caught it, ran his hand around the broad rim, then
placed it on his head at an angle. It looked as ridiculous on him as it had on
Bastien.

Jaquar grinned. "Nice hat. The bargain is done."

The men exchanged glances.

Alexa shook her head.
Men.

 

T
he sangvile hovered, thin as it could make its body, over the
house where the Exotique prey was. It yearned for that Power. But the feycoocu
was there too, and the shapechanger was strong and dangerous.

The one with bright magic that it had followed from the Castle had
entered the house. The sangvile trolled the area for someone to drain of magic,
but all the good ones were in the house. It would need to feast soon, and on
rich magic.

It waited, and then the strongly magical one left on volaran-back
and the sangvile hooked itself to the
whoosh
of air in its wake.

 

T
hat night, after another round of spectacular lovemaking, Alexa
lay cradled in Bastien's arms, listening to his soft snoring and the birdcall
outside.

The sounds should have comforted her, reminded her that she'd
found a place of her own, people of her own. But she was lonely. For the
Marshalls. How stupid was that?

But they'd called her and trained her and she'd thought they gave
her friendship.

The birdsong was too damn cheerful. She stilled as she realized
that it was the bluebird nesting for the night. Her mouth curved down and she
pressed her lips hard together against a cry of pain. Just that morning she'd
danced to the bluebird song, sure of her place in life at last.

Such a day, eons long, aged her second by second with trials.

And that was self-pity. A spurt of anger dried incipient tears.
She'd danced joyfully in the morning, fought the sangvile and the Marshalls. It
had been an eventful day, a fateful day, and she'd formed the shape of it
herself with her own mind and body and magic. That was something.

She stroked Bastien's chest. She had what she'd always wanted—a
home, a place, a man. All very good things, better than the loss of false
friends. She thought of the thin Song-threads that still bound her to the
Marshalls and considered snipping them the way she'd once threatened to cut the
Song between herself and Bastien. Her pride wouldn't let her Summon
metaphorical scissors. To clip the threads would be to let the Marshalls know
they were important to her, and that they'd hurt her.

No, she wouldn't destroy. She'd build—a solid relationship with
Bastien and the Chevaliers.

Her hand slipped down Bastien's body to caress. This is what
mattered right now. Man coming into woman. Loving.

 

T
hat night Thealia sat in the window seat of their suite in the
Castle and looked out the bow windows. Night was falling and it
was raining. Though the rain at the Castle no longer
contained frinks, it still depressed her. Or perhaps it was looking at the
Tower that jutted to her left. The Tower with dark windows where there'd been
light when Alexa was here.

Partis came up behind her, pulled her close against his body. The
cadence of their Song strengthened, deepened, and notes of desire mixed in. It
lifted her spirits a little.

He rubbed her arms from elbow to shoulder. "You miss Alyeka.
So do I. The Castle hadn't seen such vibrancy for a long time, not since all of
the Marshalls' children were younger and still journeyed with us."

"We were so wrong in all our actions with Alyeka."

"Why do you scold yourself so? None of us had ever dealt with
an Exotique before. We made mistakes—"

"Bad mistakes."

"Bad mistakes. But time will correct them."

Thealia grasped one of his hands between hers. "You think
so?"

"Alyeka carries the Jade Baton, Bastien the black-and-silver.
They are Marshalls to the bone. They claimed the batons and we claimed them.
Alyeka is a very reasonable person—she will find her way back to us."

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