Pixilated (18 page)

The Matriarch’s fine china cup chimed
against the saucer. "You are right. Templemen involved in elfin
politics is not humorous, and a plot to make it look as if they are
is even less so. I will look into the matter. In the meantime, how
may Temple Arbala assist you?"

"Katie says the princess needs a trousseau,
whatever the hell that is."

Kree swallowed a last bite of steak sopped
in egg yolk, his favorite breakfast. The hazelnut-flavored coffee
they shared was another favorite. He had not been home for nearly
seven years, yet they remembered his preferences. Arbala truly was
his home, even more than the garrison was, and now that he was
here, he realized how much he had missed it.

The Matriarch brought her napkin to her lips
hiding another smile. Her eyes sparkled. "Wise as well as
courageous. I like your young lady more with every revelation. She
is correct. A princess of Thallasi cannot go into a hostile court
in her shift."

"Katie is not my young—" The Matriarch's
laughter cut through Kree's denial. He closed his mouth. Protesting
so obvious a truth made him appear foolish, and his mother thought
him foolish enough already.

She rang the silver hand bell beside her
plate. "Claudine, please bring paper and quill." The priestess
hurried away, returning at almost at once with the requested items.
His mother scribbled a note on the paper and raised her gaze to
Kree. "What else do you need?"

Taking a sip of coffee, savoring its flavor,
he narrowed his eyes in thought. "Provisions. Camping gear. A mount
better suited to the princess’s size.

"I’ve sent for backup, but my first
lieutenant’s squad may not arrive before we have to move on. Do you
think I might hire a couple of Templemen?" Initiates came to clear
the table and Kree waited until they withdrew. "Are there men in
residence who would have me?"

Surprised by his question the Matriarch gave
a soft chuckle. "Are there any who would not? You are Namar’s
Gryphon. Because you spurn her nectar does not change this fact.
The real question is; are there any you would have? Let me think on
it while you take your young ladies to visit the dressmaker." She
passed Kree the letter of credit she’d prepared. "This should cover
anything you need."

Kree’s eyebrows shot up. He gave a low
whistle. He knew the value of kit and ponies. "Trousseaux must be
expensive."

The Matriarch’s humor returned full force.
"Of the quality a Thallasi princess requires, made-up in only a day
or two? Yes, my beautiful son, trousseaux are expensive."

"You are really enjoying this aren’t
you?"

His mother dabbed at her eyes again. "You
will find your way out. You always do."

If outfitting his Wilderkin were this big a
task, Kree figured he had best get started. After all, he had to
face Kayseri eventually. It may as well be now. But Goddess, he
dreaded the hatred he’d see in her eyes. He’d rather someone stake
him an anthill.

***

Two boys stood outside the broken doorframe,
one lanky with dark hair and olive skin, who Kayseri judged perhaps
fifteen, the other, stocky and freckled with sandy hair, eleven, or
twelve at most. Braided hair and branded cheeks declared them both
Goddess-born. The darker one swept a graceful bow.

"Good morning, ladies. I am William." The
boy gestured toward his companion, who also made a bow. "That is
Roland. We have come to escort you to breakfast."

Kayseri glanced down the hall where Kree’s
door stood ajar.

William followed her gaze. "Not to worry,
he
is not there. He exercised before dawn and now breaks his
fast with Mother."

"You’ve met My Captain?"

"Oh no, lady." Roland said. "We’ve not had
that honor, but everybody knows where he is. He can’t as much as
fart without the whole temple talking of it."

Kayseri and Sandahl giggled. William gave
Roland a sharp elbow to the ribs. "Excuse him, my lady." He glared
at the younger boy. "Roland has the manners of a wharf-rat. We
heard you had a terrific dustup with himself last night." He
touched the splintered doorframe. "We wish we could have witnessed
it." Warm admiration brightened William's eyes. "You must have the
heart of a lioness."

It appeared boldness was a trait the
Goddess-born acquired at birth. William’s praise for last night’s
folly embarrassed Kayseri, but since this Goddess-born was on her
side rather than Kree's, she accepted his arm. Sandahl took
Roland’s and together the boys escorted them down two flights of
stairs into what William referred to as the dining hall. This long
room boasted half a dozen trestle tables seating four per side. A
mixture of young women wearing simple blue shifts and little girls
in white jumpers occupied most of the tables. These were the
novices and the children of the Temple, William explained as he
guided them to a round table at the heart of the hall. As the four
of them crossed the space, the happy chatter became a buzzing
whisper.

William held Kayseri's chair with all the
flare one might employ displaying a prize. "They’re talking of you,
my lady. Everyone is—about how you fought the Gryphon. Most people
wouldn't have the courage to speak to him unless he spoke first."
William laughed delightedly. "But you
hit
him! And more than
once the way I heard it."

Kayseri stomach clinched. Kree has asked her
not to make him look like a fool while they were in the Temple, and
what had she done? She had made herself and her captain
ridiculous.

Roland pushed his chair up and snapped open
his napkin. "It is William’s day. Aye. I hope you both enjoy
scrambled eggs, toast, and strawberries. He always asks for that.
Of course, if the Gryphon were eating in here, we’d be stuck with
whatever he likes. I heard you grew up with him. What does he
like?"

Kayseri started to say she did not know
Kree’s culinary preferences because he ate whatever came to hand
including oatcakes meant for horses, but the boy had already turned
his attention to Sandahl.

"You're an elf, aren’t you? I’ve never seen
an elf before. We don’t have Wilderkin where I’m from, Belton by
the Sea. Boy, I wish we did because you’re really, really pretty."
He never drew a breath.

Sandahl's smile dimpled her cheeks. "Thank
you."

Breakfast arrived, scrambled eggs, toast,
and strawberries just as Roland predicted. Kayseri found herself
liking these young Goddess-born. They were amusing and, oh so,
cocky-sure of themselves. She wondered if Kree had been like them.
Knowing him, he had probably been far worse.

Between one bite and the next all the
laughter and conversation filling the hall stopped. The boys shot
to their feet. Roland’s chair overturned with a loud clatter.
Kayseri’s gaze followed theirs. Kree stood in the doorway
resplendent in dragon's eye blue. The carved hilts on his fighting
knives jutted above his shoulders. His saber hung in a slight curve
against his powerful thigh. Kayseri could not help the sigh that
escaped her any more than half a dozen other young women in the
hall could. His hair was dressed in blessing-braids, tight,
crop-rows braided away from his face to a point just behind his
ears from there it fell in thin braids to his shoulders, one
hundred braids; the perfect number for the Goddess's Gryphon, her
perfect champion. Kayseri had not seen his hair in this fashion
since the day he had hacked it off with a knife and tossed it on
his wife's casket. The style suited him. He was so fine looking she
wanted to cry.

He crossed the room in long strides dragging
a dust devil of color with him. It made Kayseri dizzy. She was
still seeing his soul colors, an ability that came with the mate
bond, but she had not mated with Kree, not that she did not want
to. She wanted him with all her heart. Whatever was she to do? Kree
was mundane as mud-pie, deaf and blind to Wilderkin magic, he could
never share or understand this mystery. And he had said he didn't
love her. What was she going to do?

Kree stopped behind Sandahl’s chair and
inclined his head to the boys. "Good morning Goddess-born. How are
you called?"

"William."

"Roland."

The boys bowed from the waist. "How are you
called, Gryphon?" They asked, in unison. Kree’s dust-devil aura
resolved itself into a silvery-blue touched with green that flared
toward the boys.

Eager for an understanding she could not
glean from Kree, Kayseri sought Sandahl’s mind.

"Sandahl, can you hear My Captain’s
thoughts?"

"Can't you?"
Sandahl sounded
surprised
. "He conceals nothing. I’ve been filtering him out
ever since I met him."

"Something terrible happened last night
and now I see his soul colors."
Kayseri was desperate.
"Please tell me what he’s thinking."

"You bonded with him. How? When?"

"No! We fought. That's all. Please,
Sandahl."

"You are mated!"

"No. I don’t know what happened. One minute
he was mad enough to strangle me and the next I'm seeing his soul
colors."

"Even I know it doesn't work like that."

"Please, tell me what he is thinking?"

"That they are his brothers. He wants them
to like him. He thinks he should sit down so he will seem less
intimating. Kayseri, what you’re claiming happened is not possible.
Only intimacy brings the bond."

"I know, but you have to believe me. We had
a fight. A very big fight. The biggest ever, and then... It was
just there."

"Have you told him?"

"No. And I'm not going to tell him. He'll
think he has to do something."

"He does have to do something."

Kree pulled out a chair and sat beside
Sandahl. "I’m Kree." The boys sat, following his lead. He gave them
his lopsided grin, reached over, and helped himself to a strawberry
from Roland’s plate.

Roland pushed the plate toward Kree in case
he wanted more. He leaned forward on his elbows. "Is it true you
killed a sorcerer?"

"It was nothing to brag about. I nearly
died."

The boys’ eyes were huge. Kayseri watched
Kree’s aura send soft green tendrils out to touch their faces. He
glanced at her with a wary smile, making her a part of the
conversation. "Katie’s father has worked for years developing
weapons that would be proof against magic. He’ll be glad to know
one of them worked."

"But you said you nearly died?"

Kree let his gaze rest on boys one at a
time. "It was not the fault of the weapon. We designed the weapon
to break a casting and it did. My timing was faulty. Next time I’ll
know where to compensate. The sorcerer," he gave them his grin full
and fierce, "does not have the same option."

"May we see this weapon?" William asked.

"If you like." Kree turned his attention to
Kayseri. For the space of a heartbeat, his aura exploded into a
riot of color.

"What?"

"A snarl of thought,"
Sandahl
sent
. "I can’t untangle a single thread."

The colors settled around him, silvery blue
with a hint of pink warming its core. "I thought I’d take you and
Sandahl shopping after breakfast. Would you like that?"

"And now?"

"He is adding figures in his head."

"What?"

The princess shrugged.
"One plus one
equals two. Two plus two equals four and so on."

Kree took Sandahl’s shrug for dissent. "I
thought ladies loved shopping," he said.

"Oh, we do, My Captain." Kayseri assured him
with a bright smile. "And it’s a lovely morning for a walk."

"We’re going," the young Goddess-born
chorused.

Kree’s gaze flicked back to them. "If you
like."

***

Walk. As a cavalryman, Kree didn’t walk
anywhere when he could ride. He pondered the absurdity of it while
changing his saber for his bastard sword. The others waited for him
downstairs. He could squash this idea with a word, but walking
would please Kayseri and after shattering her so cruelly last
night, he wanted very much to please her where he could.

She had given him a wonderful gift greeting
him with warmth, and now that he knew things between them could
still be companionable, he was relieved. Provided he did not allow
himself to become so fatigued it took every ounce of his willpower
to put one foot in front of the other, he could keep his hands off
Kayseri and keep his feelings for her buried under simple ciphering
until the stars fell down. Kree rotated his shoulders, settled the
sword’s weight on his back chuckling under his breath. He had a
flare for drama he did, and he wondered from which of his parents
he got that trait. He need not bury his feelings so long as that.
Just long enough to finish his contract would do. Afterwards Katie
would have her new life in Nhurstari, and he would have his old
life in Qets. Why didn't the idea make him happier?

He rejoined his companions in the drawing
room and noticed how the boys mark his change of armament. They
were curious, these boys. Clearly, arms were a mystery to them.
Given his own upbringing, Kree wondered for what sort of lives
these Goddess-born had be created.

Their walk into town proved surprisingly
pleasant. The boys keep his Wilderkin occupied with a steady stream
of chatter. Very few townspeople approached them, and they reached
the dressmaker’s shop with only two small delays at a bakery and a
toyshop.

Dame couturier, an elegant middle-aged woman
with auburn hair and a foreign accent, cooed over the Wilderkin,
and eyed Kree with bold interest. She listened avidly as he
explained his needs and declared that his request impossible before
she swept his charges away, calling for a small army of assistants.
Kree and the boys stationed themselves in front of the shop
settling in for a long wait. He watched the young Goddess-born
twitching and yearning over his weapons until he could stand it no
longer. "Don’t speculate. If you do not know, ask."