Pixilated (19 page)

They did. Roland wanted to hold the gryphon
knives. He also wanted to see the gryphon brands which Kree
promised to show him later.

"Why did you change swords?" William wanted
to know.

"I didn't. I changed from a saber to a
sword. Sabers curve. It is a slashing weapon meant for use on
horseback. One needs the momentum of a gallop behind it for it to
be fully effective. That’s not to say I can’t thrust with it. I
can, but I’d be at a disadvantage and that is not a position from
which I like to fight." Kree put his hand on the hilt of the
bastard sword. "This weapon thrusts and slashes which makes it a
better choice for standing combat." Handing one of the gryphon
knives to Roland, he added, "These knives are best in close combat
where there isn’t enough room to swing a sword. Do you see?"

William studied the sword. "Why did you put
it on your back?"

Kree slid the fifty-inch blade free of its
scabbard and handed it to the boy. The point dropped to the ground.
William brought it level with his waist using both hands.

Kree nodded at the sword. "It’s much heavier
than you expected isn’t it? I don’t like that much weight dragging
at my waist and since I'm wearing an arming harness anyway, I
indulge myself."

"Are you expecting trouble?"

"Someone is trying to take my contract.
That’s a solid fact. If I look like I'm ready for it sometimes
trouble avoids me." He flashed his crooked grin. "For a little
while at least. Aren’t they teaching you weaponry at the
temple?"

Roland gave the knife an awkward flourish
before handing it back to him. "The rapier. Do you know it?"

Gentlemen. They’re to be gentlemen. Times
do
change. "I know it. It’s not a cavalryman's weapon, and
only a fool would challenge me with a thrusting sword." Kree
shrugged. "It is bad luck to kill a fool."

"Why should he be a fool?" Roland wanted to
know. For his answer, Kree extended his arm.

"Oh! Reach," the boys said, in unison.

"This is fearsome." William swung the
bastard sword side-to-side in a reckless manner. "I’d dearly love
to know how to use this. Will you teach me?"

Kree took the blade away from the boy before
he hurt himself. "I’ll teach you the basic patterns this afternoon.
Beyond that, you will have to seek out the current sword master. By
the way, I’ll be selecting a few Templemen for a job tomorrow
afternoon. It should be a fine display of sword work. You could
squire for me if you like. Both of you."

***

Kayseri moved swiftly along the stone
pavement. Sunlight warmed the honed marble. This was their second
full day in Arbala, and she couldn't wait to leave. She had seen
Kree ride away early this morning, a clear silvery-blue nimbus
crowning his head. She did not know if he had returned. Observation
combined with Sandahl telepathic skill told Kayseri silvery-blue
meant Kree was at peace. It was pure and balanced. People upset the
balance and influenced the hues. People muddied his colors. She
muddied Kree’s colors more than any other did.

He positively sparkled while practicing long
sword patterns with Roland and William yesterday afternoon. The
boys struggled with them, but Kree danced through the same patterns
with flow and precision. For him those patterns were a moving
meditation, and he dazzled the younger Goddess-born. They were his
creatures now. Sparkle in Kree’s aura meant pleasure. If she could
puzzle out what more of the colors signified, maybe she could
understand the man. Sadly, the addition of his soul colors proved
he had spoken true. She did not know him.

Gathered in the music room after dinner last
evening, Kree had played the piano. Kayseri had not known he played
that instrument. When the Matriarch requested a song, he protested
that he had not been a songbird before he had damaged his voice,
but in the end, he chose a ballad that did not tax his range. His
soft, airy voice had turned each note into a velvet caress. By the
end of his performance, Kayseri was more in love with him than
ever.

William had played after Kree and Roland
sang in a pure boyish soprano while Kree waltzed first the
Matriarch and then several of the priestesses around the room. He
had even danced with Sandahl allowing her to stand upon his feet as
he'd done for Kayseri when she was little, but he had not dance
with Kayseri. The only times during the evening's entertainment his
aura was not a perfect sparkling silvery-blue was when he looked at
her or talked to her.

"Yo! Kayseri!" William jogged across the
courtyard. "Good day to you, my lady."

Pushing her sad ruminations aside, Kayseri
smiled at the tall boy. "Do you know if My Captain has returned
from town? I need to talk to him."

Falling in beside her, William threaded her
hand through his arm. "He got back just after the noon meal."

"Do you know where to find him?"

"In his room, he's sleeping."

Pain touched her heart. She did not want to
repeat her mistakes. "Is... he alone?"

William snorted. "Of course, my lady. He
said he wanted to rest before combat." The lad winked. "I don't
think he needs it."

Kayseri pulled William to a halt. "What
combat? Who is he fighting?"

The boy’s face brightened. "This is a combat
for pleasure, my lady. He is hiring an escort for you and the
princess." He puffed out his chest. "Roland and I are squiring for
him. I was just on my way to tell him the candidates await his
pleasure. Come, we'll walk together."

William raised his hand to rap on Kree’s
door, but it suddenly opened and Kree’s aura slammed into Kayseri.
Dizzying riotous color swirled around her overwhelming her senses.
The next thing she knew she was on the floor leaning against
William's narrow chest.

Kree pulled her into his arms, and snapped
at William, "Fetch the healer."

She stretched out her hand. "I’m fine." And
she was. She was in Kree’s arms, and her body knew its mate.
Kayseri relaxed into him relishing the feel of smooth skin over
hard muscle. She inhaled deeply filling herself with his scent. She
didn’t want to move. Her fingers touched his cheek. "You..."

"I what, sweetheart?" Kree smoothed her hair
back from her face. His gaze searched her face.

"You smell so good." She felt his fleeting
smile under her fingers, there and gone.

"William, hurry with that healer. She's
hallucinating."

"I don't think smells are
hallucinations.

"Go get the healer, boy."

"I don't need a healer," Kayseri said. "I
was dizzy for a moment but..." She braced herself for another
vertiginous wave and opened her eyes. "It's gone now." Kree’s
silvery-blue corona infused with a warm pinkish glow, reaching
almost to the outer edges. "I’m fine now." Oh, the look on his
face.

"Really?"

Kayseri nodded and gave him a reassuring
smile. He helped her to her feet and his silvery-blue balance
reasserted itself as he stepped away.

"You wanted me?"

Forever.
"The seamstress came for our
final fittings this morning. Our new wardrobes should arrive
sometime tonight." Sandahl joined them in the hallway drawn by the
commotion.

Kree favored Kayseri with his beloved grin.
"Good. We can leave in the morning."

"But Duncan isn’t here yet."

"He’ll catch up. He is probably pushing Red
Fist to the point of mutiny as we stand here." Kree's gaze drifted
to William. "Are the candidates ready?"

The boy’s excitement came back in a rush.
"They’re waiting for you in the arena."

***

William found a choice spot on the arena
wall for Kayseri and Sandahl to watch the combat in comfort. Word
of the afternoon’s sport had spread. Novices and lower-ranking
priestesses crowded around the two Wilderkin. Templemen not chosen
to meet Kree leaned or sat on the wall as eager as all the others
to watch Kree's sword-work. Kayseri even spotted the Matriarch
watching from her tower window.

Seven chosen men waited in the arena making
small talk with Kree while William and Roland inscribed a large
circle at the arena's heart. William had explained the rules for
this day’s combat to Kayseri. One won by disarming an opponent, by
landing a killing blow with blunted blades or by forcing an
opponent out of the circle.

When all was ready, Kree pointed at the
youngest man in the group. The fellow stepped into the circle
radiating confidence. Kree crossed to where the boys waited for
him, and stripped down to the handkerchief-thin sleeveless
undershirt he always wore. Some of the bolder novices shouted for
him to strip it off as well, but he raised his hand and shook his
head. For reasons Kayseri had never discovered through mischief or
questioning, Kree never bared his torso in public if he could help
it.

Kree accepted the blunted sword William
offered him gave it a couple of practice swings, then barked loud
burst of laughter and charged his opponent. Startled, the fellow
jumped back, lost his footing and fell outside the circle. It was
over that fast.

Kree bent down and offered the man his hand.
Kayseri saw the young man speaking, but Kree shook his head in
response to whatever he’d said. Kree fought one man after the other
throughout the afternoon. Most of them put up a good fight, but a
few never laid a blade on him. No one defeated him. After the first
round, Kree paired the men up, selecting the first young man as his
partner. Then he went through the routine again fighting the men in
pairs. He did not rest, only paused to gulp water between bouts.
His aura shined bright as the sun. Kree was having fun.

Next, he matched men up fighting them
against each other analyzing their strengths and weaknesses for
William and Roland. By sunset, Kree had found the pair he wanted,
Fergus, the young man he had beaten with bravado and an old fellow
named, Biggs, whose sword work had produced most of the red welts
on his arms.

Chapter Fifteen

Kree led his reinforced party out of the
city around mid-morning the next day. Rested, properly outfitted
with Red Fist likely less than half a day behind, he felt
light-hearted enough to entertain thoughts of success. True, he
lacked a plan for approaching this Nhurstari prince, Rian, but this
was a small thing. He would think of something. He always did.

They traveled due north and soon left the
cultivated farmlands supporting Arbala behind. The sky was azure,
the suns bright, but an overnight cool snap promised a softer day.
Kree cherished the hope that the scorching summer had finally lost
its grip on the frontier. Cooler weather was easier on the horses,
which in turn made for better traveling.

It was easier on the Thallasi princess too.
Four hours on the road and Sandahl still looked fresh as a new day
dressed in a light blue riding habit complete with matching hat and
gloves. Comfortably mounted on a new chestnut pony, she sung the
epic tragedy
Averill and Tam
in the impossibly high, clear
soprano only elves ever achieved. Kayseri joined in on the
choruses. The song told a long tortured tale of star-crossed lovers
who come to a bad end. Personally, Kree hated the song, but Biggs
and Fergus were enchanted.

His beautiful Katie look smart in bronze
cotton velvet accented with creamy lace. She had pulled her
glorious curls up in a high ponytail. For coolness presumably, but
it showed off the lovely column of her neck very fetchingly. Kree
licked his lips. He remembered the texture of her neck too well for
his own good. Golden topaz glinted at her ears. The sight caused
his chest to hurt. He took the vanguard to spare himself heartache
and gave Biggs and Fergus the wing and the companionship.

They stopped for lunch as the terrain began
to turn mountainous again. Kree loosened the girth on his horse,
stripped off his weapons harness, and slung it across his saddle.
Biggs saw to the other horses, and Fergus appointed himself cook
leaving Kree with nothing much to do. Unbuttoning his jacket, he
stretched out under a tree and pulled up a long piece of grass
twirling it between his fingers. After a while, Kayseri came to him
him carrying an apple in each hand. She sat down on her knees
across from him.

Kree gave her a crooked grin. "You make that
outfit look beautiful, little girl. Unless I miss my guess, you are
well on the way to adding Fergus’ heart to your collection."

Kayseri tossed her head setting her ponytail
dancing. "One heart hardly makes a collection."

"What about mine? It has been your captive
since you were a wee little thing?"

She stared at him so long and hard he
regretted his jest, then she smiled. "Are you flirting with
me?"

"Maybe a little." Kree tickled her nose with
the fuzzyheaded grass. "I can't seem to help myself. When a woman
makes an outfit look as good as you do, she deserves a bit of
flirting."

"Thank you. A friend bought it for me."
Offering him one of the apples, she took a bite out of the
other.

"Do I know him?"

"You might. He’s a tall redheaded man. Very
kindhearted."

He swallowed a bite of the apple. "Hmm. You
must know more than one redhead." She leaned forward and pushed at
his shoulder. Kree obliged falling backward as if she possessed the
power to topple him. Companionable silence fell between them.

Kayseri finished her apple and tossed the
core to the birds. "When do you think Red Fist will find us?"

Kree rolled up on one elbow tossing his
apple core after hers. "Duncan is pushing while I am not. I figure
he’ll overhaul us sometime tomorrow. Midmorning probably."

Fergus and Biggs had fallen into a sparring
match to pass the time. Kree watched them in silence. Each time
Biggs brought a hawking strike the younger man retreated and ended
up with Biggs' blade at his throat.