Protector of the Flight (41 page)

“Like
Alexa finding the way to make new fence posts.”

“And
the Exotique before us teaching the Singer good English.”

“Huh.”

“We
extrapolate that the task is set by—” Marian coughed “—the need of the planet
Amee herself.”

“Wow.”

“Yes.”

“And
though there might be one major duty, Amee, shall we say, is not averse to getting
as much as she can for the Power expended to bring us here.”

As
much bang for her buck as she could. “So something big is still waiting for
me.” She’d felt it all along.

“Yes.”

T
he first night
and day home kept Marrec too busy to think of anything but work around the
estate, presenting him with problems he had to solve—or at least consider
before he figured out the right thing to do. He told himself that Calli was
surrounded by excellent guards and good friends in the Exotiques. Many more
Powerful than he would protect her.

But
by the time evening had fallen on the second day, he’d caught up on all
pressing matters and fallen into the slower rhythm of country life.

Marrec
sang Diaminta to sleep, then ate a light meal and went to his bedroom—the master
suite. Empty of his Pairling. He hurt. Why had he done this to them? But it was
the
right
thing to do. No matter how safe behind the lines the
encampment was, it was no place for a child, let alone an infant.

He
stripped and showered, firmly closing the images of Calli and the hot spring in
the conservatory from his mind. Though he preferred bathing, he didn’t see
himself using the pool anytime soon. Not without her.

His
body yearned for hers. For sex. He’d gotten spoiled. As an independent
Chevalier, sex had been irregular for him, with long periods of celibacy. He
preferred to save his money than pay for sex, and other female Chevaliers only
occasionally indicated that they’d care to spend a night with him. Now he
wanted more. He wanted Calli.

Restless,
he dressed and wandered the large and echoing house. They still had only a few
servants, though he wanted to hire more guards, especially for when he was
away.

Before
he’d had time to settle, a knocking came on the front door of the house.
Stretching his senses, he felt a surprising spurt of pleasure when he realized
that Jaquar and Marian were visiting. He hurried to the door. “Salutations,” he
said.

Jaquar
bowed and Marian curtsied, dazing Marrec’s wits a little. He still wasn’t used
to Powerful people treating him with respect.

They
entered and Marian looked around with approval. “You’ve done wonders here.”

Heat
flushed under his skin. “Thank you.”

“And
on the estate as well,” Jaquar said. “I can sense when land is tended and
nurtured, and the Songs of the people are cheerful.” They’d reached the one
good parlor now and Marrec issued them in, poured brandy for himself and Jaquar
and wine for Marian. He knew what drink they preferred and that pleased him.
He, too, was making new and Powerful friends, finding the rich and noble
weren’t so different after all. Though he sipped his brandy much slower than
Jaquar. Marrec wasn’t used to strong, expensive drink either.

Marian
sat on a new love seat, her robes arranging themselves around her. “Yes, this
estate is obviously prospering under your hands—and Calli’s.”

Marrec
stiffened. He should have remembered that they would be Calli’s friends more
than his own. “We have a child, and a battle encampment is no place for her.”
He swept his hand around them, irritated that he was defending himself. “And
responsibilities to our home.”

“I
know what it is to protect a beloved one, while loving something else, too. It
tears you apart.”

He
hadn’t wanted to think of that, had shut his emotions down with regard to
himself and Calli.

“Calli
has responsibilities to all of Lladrana, to Amee itself. Don’t you think it
hurt her for you to choose your child and your land over helping your Pairling?
She has a problem believing that people can love her.”

Marrec
had never thought of that. His gut burned. So did his eyes. “I’m not going to
talk to you about Calli. But you are welcome to spend the night.”

“Ahem.”
Jaquar cleared his throat. “We didn’t come to discuss responsibilities. You and
Calli gave us several dreeth teeth and claws to commission into magical objects
that would sell for a high price. We have deducted our price and now return the
rest for you to trade.” He waved a hand and a bulging saddlebag appeared on a
table. “I suggest you take them to Troque City near the escarpment to the City
States.” He drank, then finished. “I mentioned them to a colleague of mine and
the merchants there are expecting them.” He glanced at the bag. “The objects
should command a very high price. Enough for you to hire a short-term caretaker
and nanny.”

So
much for not lecturing about responsibilities. “A child needs a parent.
Diaminta is accustomed to having Calli and me near, seeing us each day, which
would not be the case were I to stay at the camp. We are on four-day rotation.”

“A
wife needs her husband,” Marian said gently.

That
ripped at his heart. At least they didn’t point out that without Calli, he’d
never have had an estate.

“Wrong,”
Jaquar said.

Marrec
blinked.

Marian
rose and put her glass back on the liquor cabinet. “We are linked with Calli in
some measure because we participated in the Summoning and the Healing, and that
means we hear your Song better than most.”

“You
are a very determined man,” Jaquar said. “You would have earned land of your
own.”

But
not an estate like this, and Marrec loved this place fiercely, as fiercely as
his daughter.

As
fiercely as he loved his wife. But his daughter and the land needed him more.

Both
Circlets’ gazes were fixed on his face. He thought his expression was as
impassive as always, but they
could
hear his Song.

Finally,
Jaquar said, “Since you wish to spare your daughter the knowledge of the
absence of her parents as much as possible, I suggest we travel to Troque
tonight—a merchant will be available to bargain for our wares. We can return at
dawn, before she awakes.”

It
was sensible.

“I’ll
watch Diaminta,” Marian said, her face lighting in the way of women thinking of
babes. “After all, you and Calli intend to ask us to be godparents, um,
parenties
for her, don’t you?”

“Ayes.
I didn’t know that Calli had told you.”

Marian’s
smile was warm. “She mentioned it in passing, though it’s only logical. We’re
the least likely of all your friends to be harmed in this battle with the
Dark.” Her expression turned serious and she reached for Jaquar’s hand. “We
assure you that…that…”

Jaquar
said, “Should Diaminta come to us, we will always put her welfare before
anything else.”

Cold
touched the base of Marrec’s spine. “Thank you.”

Marian
smiled. “Now, you two go take care of your business.”

29

A
couple of hours
later, a dazed Marrec stood in the Troque Guildhall’s Landing Area, Dark
Lance’s reins in his hand. The master merchant himself had negotiated with
them, and they’d gotten a staggering price for their items. Marrec was stunned
at the amount he received for magical amulets, had to dismiss himself behind a
screen so he could place the rare jewels in a money belt wrapped close to his
body. They wouldn’t go in pouch or pockets. His wits hadn’t quite grasped the
wealth he now had or exactly what he could do with it.

Jaquar
leaned on the open gate of the paddock. His volaran was the only steed within.
“I have a colleague here. I’m sure you’d be welcome to stay overnight.”

The
last thing Marrec wanted to do was to spend time in a Sorcerer’s home and be
bored by talk of various obscure spellsongs that had little use to a Chevalier.

“Thank
you,” he said, “but, no. I’ve traded in this town before, I know the Chevalier
places.”

“Very
well. My colleague’s tower is some ways outside of town. I’ll meet you at your
estate tomorrow morning.”

“Good.”
Marrec hesitated, then offered his hand. He’d enjoyed Jaquar’s company, the way
they’d worked well together to bring the price of their goods up. The evening
had been the most pleasurable he’d had with another man in a long time.

Grasping
his hand, Jaquar gave it a firm squeeze. “I enjoyed our bargaining.”

“Me,
too.”

Jaquar
adjusted his dreeth-skin hat. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes.”
Marrec eyed the hat. He’d like one, too.

Jaquar
opened his mouth, then shut it, shook his head. “Women are a puzzle, even for
Sorcerers. I’ll not give you any advice.”

Marrec
was thankful for that. He nodded and walked away, leading Dark Lance. The inn
he usually patronized was shabbier than he remembered, but still close to the
more expensive tavern and inn that most Chevaliers frequented when they were in
town. At least he knew the prices and services here, so he got a room to
himself and stabling for Dark Lance.

But
once he was in his room, he was restless again. He definitely was unaccustomed
to being alone now that he’d wed, and being solitary was different than being
lonely. So he clumped down the stairs and headed toward the tavern.

This
place, too, wasn’t quite as he recalled, but narrowing his eyes, Marrec figured
the change was in him more than the inn. Raucous laughter came from a table,
one voice lifted, demanding more ale. Marrec recognized the voice and saw three
Chevaliers, all men, sitting and drinking, with a deck of cards on the table.
They were all independents, as he’d been, and he hadn’t spoken with any of them
for a while. He wended his way to the table.

“Ay,
Marrec!” Zhardon, an affable moon-faced Chevalier, stood and pounded Marrec on
the back, grinning. “Long time since we’ve had a drink together.” He nudged
Marrec in the ribs with his elbow and winked. “Got a whole lot better to be
doing than hanging with us, eh? Beautiful new wife, rich new estate.”

“A
kid, even,” Luc said, finishing his drink and wiping his sleeve across his
mouth. He smiled. He’d lost a tooth since Marrec had sat with them last. But
Marrec had seen the flash of bitterness in his eyes.

“Guess
you’re here for the same reason we are. To get a better price for our portion
of horror kills?” Gentry asked smoothly. He was better educated than them all,
but his Song held resentment, too.

Marrec
wasn’t about to tell them that he’d traded with the master merchant himself,
that he’d received a fortune for his kills—his and Calli’s. Odd how fortunes
begat when you had a big stake. He dropped into the open chair.

“Barkeep,
an ale for my friend, here, and another round for us,” Zhardon ordered, grinned
at Marrec and winked again. “You can pay for it.”

“Looks
like he can,” Gentry said. “Nice leathers.”

The
others checked out what Marrec was wearing. It was one of his dreeth-skin
leather sets and didn’t show wear, and he had
two
sets now, and two of
regular cowhide. When he’d once only had one very mended set, the same as these
men.

Zhardon
leaned closer, his breath warm and smelling of ale. “So, tell us of the
beautiful new Volaran Exotique.”

“Lucky
dog.” Luc finished his drink and belched. “Damn lucky, to get that woman.” His
stare fixed on Marrec as he lowered his voice. “Strange-looking woman.”

“But
in a fascinating sort of way.” Gentry lounged back, arm across the top rung of his
chair. “They
say
that she has fascinating ways in bed, too.”

“Calli?”
Marrec stiffened, grabbed the wooden handle of his mug and downed a gulp, the
rawness of the brew lay on his tongue.

Zhardon
chuckled, drank, too. “All the Exotiques. Beautifully strange or strangely
beautiful. That Circlet…” He shook his head. “Hair with colors of deep fire.”

The
pretty lady who was now watching over Marrec’s child, whose eyes had gone soft
with pleasure at the thought of being a
parentie
to his daughter.

“Is
it true?” Gentry’s smile sharpened.

Almost,
Marrec wished that he’d taken Jaquar up on his offer. And why was he now
wanting to be bored out of his skull with the Circlet and his sorcerous
colleague? No, that wasn’t where he wanted to be either. Home, with Calli and
Diaminta. Simply, home.

He
looked at these faces around the table, men he’d spent hours with, men who’d
mirrored his own station and beliefs…once. “A woman’s a woman.”

“’Cept
you’re bonded with this one. Just think, loving every night.” Zhardon sighed,
saw his new mug of ale and his expression lightened.

“A
plum estate,” Gentry said.

“Zhiv,”
Luc said at the same time. He riffled the grimy deck of cards with his
thumbnail. “Care to play?”