Guardian of Honor (17 page)

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Authors: Robin D. Owens

BOOK: Guardian of Honor
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"Quit baiting your father," Marshall Thealia said,
coming up to him and brushing a perfunctory kiss on his cheek.

Bastien ducked his head in courtesy. Doubt and concern clouded her
eyes.

"I don't need you to defend me, Thealia, especially not from
Bastien," Reynardus said.

She spun on her heel and faced him, face tight. "There is
such
a thing as common courtesy. It is obvious where your
younger son gets his rudeness."

"Too true, Godmama," Bastien said. "Unlike my good
brother Luthan. But witnessing my father making a major mistake was something I
had to see."

"I made no mistake," Reynardus snapped. "The woman
is useless to us."

Bastien lifted his shoulders and let them fall in an elaborate
shrug. "If you say so. But Luthan is in the courtyard, the Representative
of the Singer. I wonder if he will agree—or Marrec's liege, Lady Hallard, the
new Representative of the Chevaliers. If the Exotique reaches the Town, there
might be guildmembers who think otherwise." Bastien rubbed his chin.
"Not to mention the Sorcerers in their Towers. I'd imagine one or several
would be very interested in an untrained, powerful Exotique. No telling what
potential
use
they could put her to."

Reynardus stiffened to statue immobility, inflexibility. His head
tilted slightly. The unheard
but felt
buzz of quick, mental
communication among the Marshalls hummed around Bastien and Marrec. Marrec
widened his stance, ready for anything. Bastien's smile came and went at his
companion's action. Completely solid. Completely reliable. That was Marrec
Gardpont.

A flush rose under Reynardus's cheeks, anger lit his eyes. He was
wrong and he knew it. But he would never admit that his pride caused mistakes.
Not in dealing with the Exotique. Certainly not in dealing with his sons. He
wouldn't admit his arrogance was anything but a sterling quality.

There was a flash of Power among the Marshalls, as if they'd come
to a major decision, and the humming energy among them quieted to the usual
intricate melody that bound them.

Partis, Thealia and the other Marshalls whirled as one and started
past Bastien and Marrec for the Temple door.

"Swordmarshall Thealia, I would like confirmation that
Farentha lives," Marrec said.

Thealia paused. "She lives and will heal. Well enough to
fight, we think. She and Dema are in apartments above the volaran stables in
Horseshoe Close."

Marrec bowed. "Lady Hallard on behalf of the Chevaliers
thanks you for their healing and lodging. We will pay the proper fees."

"Difficult," Thealia said, obviously wanting to leave
and find her precious lost Marshall, "as it was the Exotique who enabled
us to heal them and she isn't a member of the Marshalls."

Bastien chuckled. "Then she will have coin enough to live in
Town for a while, won't she?"

With a nasty glance, Thealia hurried after her fellows.

Swordmarshall Mace stopped before Bastien too, and shook his head
in exasperation. "You like to cause trouble, don't you."

"You should all thank me for making this a very short and
easily corrected error," Bastien said.

Mace snorted. "You don't know a damn thing about how much
this will cost."

A wide, beatific smile stretched Bastien's lips. "Oh, I know
it will cost my father some of his pride, if I figure right. And you so very
noble
Marshalls."

Mace grunted, said, "Good day to you, Marrec," and loped
off.

The Temple emptied of the Marshalls, all on their new quest for
their Exotique.

Marrec sighed. "Don't you think we could have used her?"

Bastien flashed him a look. "Don't you understand? The
Marshalls Summoned her. With
their
ideas of what Lladrana needed,
their
requirements. They brought a woman who would fit in with
them.
She
is predisposed to work with
them.
So let them have her, especially if
she will stir them up a little. Then we can figure out how to Summon someone
for us, the Chevaliers."

Marrec's eyes widened. He met Bastien's gaze, then looked at the
black-and-white streaks in Bastien's hair. Marrec shook his head. "You are
a scary man." He turned and walked away.

Bastien laughed.

They all marched out of the Temple and into the courtyard. Thealia
raised a hand to halt. "We can't
all
go after the girl. It might
overwhelm her."

Reynardus snorted.

Thealia's jaw flexed, but she said evenly, "Partis can keep a
low mental connecting Song with you all, while we convince her to come back to
the Castle."

"Let her go," Reynardus said.

She whirled to face him. "You say that when you've seen what
she can do? Such energy she has for our songspells, such Power that she flies
from the pool. The battles are only going to get worse. What if it is you who
needs great healing?"

Reynardus paled, his eyes narrowed. "It won't be me."

"How can you say that? Any of us could fall. I, for one,
would want Alyeka near if that happened."

The others exchanged glances. Mace spoke for them. "Thealia,
you and Partis go, as a Pair."

"I'll go too. I am, after all, the Lord Knight of this
gaggle," Reynardus said.

There was internal muttering through their link, but no one voiced
an objection.

Partis grinned. "Very well, the three of us. Should be
interesting."

"I think that's what the shapeshifter keeps saying. I'd
rather a predictable path," Mace murmured.

"We're losing her—let's go." Thealia pivoted and started
down the courtyard.

Alexa had just reached the end of the straight part of the
courtyard and started angling inward to the main gate when she heard the voice.

"Exotique! Exotique, halt!"

She'd been half expecting someone to try to stop her, despite
Reynardus's encouraging her to go. But she bit her lip and kept walking,
telling herself that leaving was the right thing to do. Sinafin ran beside
Alexa, but she suspected the little magical being knew Alexa was thinking hard.

It was true she'd been wronged. But it was also true that she'd
listened to the Marshalls' Song and her own heart's yearning and stepped
through the gate to this place. She had always wanted to find a home of her
own, and had wanted to make a great and visible difference to the world. She
just hadn't realized it wouldn't be
her
world.

Huge goals, and huge goals came with huge price tags.

Could she walk away? Even as her steps took her closer and closer
to the main entrance of the Castle, Alexa didn't think so. Setting aside the
tempting idea of land and a home of her own that one of the Marshalls had
offered her that morning, Alexa doubted she would ever be able to forget the
wounded woman this morning, the scars on the man last night, or the mounted
monsters in the Assayer's Office.

They were the stuff of nightmares even if she managed to get back
to Earth. And who could she talk to on Earth about such horrors?

But she could have second, even third thoughts about her future in
the Town. Time to act, not to react. The Town was even more unknown than the
Castle, but she'd landed on her feet often enough before.

"Exotique, halt!"

Someone darted around her. Oddly enough, it wasn't any Marshall,
any soldier, any Chevalier that stopped her. It was the young, skinny teen from
the night before.

He stood in front of her and stared.

She stared back, realized that he was taller than she, and
frowned. He squared thin shoulders, then lifted his hands in a gesture that
matched the plea in his eyes.

"Exotique, je audio—"

Alexa, pick me up!
Sinafin pawed at Alexa's
boots.

Scowling, Alexa did so. Sinafin slurped a tongue around Alexa's
face, then turned her pointy muzzle to the youngster.

Speak again!
Sinafin ordered.

The boy's eyes rounded and a nervous smile twitched on and off his
face as he stepped back a pace.

"Exotique—" the boy said.

Exotic,
Alexa heard in her mind as Sinafin translated.

Quick words tumbled from the teenager. "I heard you turned in
your baton and are leaving the Castle. Don't go! We need you so badly."

Alexa flinched. The word
need
always touched her heart,
short-circuiting logic. She raised a hand to stop the boy.

He shut his lips but watched her intently with large brown eyes
full of desperate hope that tugged at her.

The heavy thump of metal boots came to her ears and she looked up
the courtyard to see Thealia, Partis and Reynardus marching toward her, a
phalanx of fighters. Unlike her, they didn't keep to the path, but stepped off
it to cross the grassy yard.

She glanced around but didn't see anyone else they might be after.
They'd catch up with her shortly. She wondered if she was insane enough to try
another superhero flight.

"I can't stay here in the Castle," she said, and waited
a beat for Sinafin to send the mental words to the teenager. "The Marshalls
have manipulated and lied to me since I arrived. I can't trust them."

Colorful tunics flapping around their armor, they proceeded down
the yard. Ahead of her were the two big Towers with the large arch between
them. She eyed the points of an iron grille near the top—a gate that could
descend to block any entrance... or exit.

The skinny kid stuck out his chin. "The Chevaliers didn't lie
to you. You could trust them."

"I can't be a Chevalier. I don't ride," Alexa said. And
though the flying horses were beautiful beyond belief, she had no
intention
of
riding them either.

"You don't ride?" he squeaked, goggling.

"No. And I'm not going to learn."

The Marshalls looped left around the well.

"Time to go." Alexa turned.

"I'll take you to the Mayor! He'll help you, make you welcome
in Town," the boy blurted.

Alexa glanced back at him. "The Mayr?" She tried to
pronounce it like he did.

He gave a quick nod, whipped around her and jogged to the gate.
Alexa put down Sinafin, then hurried to catch up.

Posted on one of the towers was a board with notices. Alexa
compressed her lips. She couldn't read the papers. No matter; she had brains
and hands and a willingness to work hard. And magic. She could survive outside
the Castle.

People streamed in both directions through the arched entry of the
Castle, and the boy knew how to weave through them, Alexa noticed approvingly.
But the youngster didn't look prepossessing. His pants were of rough brown
material and sagged over his skinny behind, where a large patch had been crookedly
sewn. They were held up by a hank of rope at his waist. His shirt was a
faded red and spotted with unidentifiable stains, with a
rip under the right arm. His black hair stuck out in all directions.

And he was going to introduce her to the Mayor?

Their footsteps echoed hollowly as they crossed the drawbridge.
Looking down, Alexa saw a beautiful, flowing blue stream in the moat. She
sniffed. It smelled clean—no refuse or sewage. No monsters or human body parts.

The road on the other side of the drawbridge was muddy. Tiny
blades of grass poked through the earth.

It was all downhill to the walled Town—no more than a couple of
miles. The Town looked as neat and tidy as it had when she'd glimpsed it from
her window the day before.

The Castle towered behind them, and they would have to travel some
distance before she'd be able to view the whole thing.

It was a fortress, and the Lladranans were fighting monsters. Like
the one who had nearly skewered her on her way here. Would it be waiting for
her when she went back?

A heavy hand clamped on to her shoulder and spun her around. She
faced an irritated Reynardus.

9

A
lexa glared up at Reynardus, flung a hand toward the Town and said
"mari" for
mayor.

The boy giggled high behind her. Reynardus's mouth fell open in
shock, and his grip loosened enough for Alexa to slide away and start jogging
down the path to the Town, to her new life outside of the Castle, away from the
Marshalls. As she waved the boy ahead to show her the way, she got the distinct
impression that she'd mangled the word somehow. Unsurprising.

Thealia whispered urgently behind her and then the woman's
husband, Partis, joined Alexa, walking fast. Alexa grumbled inwardly. Even a
short man of this race had no trouble keeping up with her at a quick walk.
She'd never be able to outrun them.

"Feycoocu?" Partis asked, and held out his arms to a
gleefully bounding Sinafin.

The little greyhound cocked her head at him as if measuring
the man, looked past him to Thealia and Reynardus, then
ahead, ignoring Partis.

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