Red Rope of Fate (14 page)

Although her words were careless, Tari was curious. She could understand the whispers and the mutters that swirled around her. It would have worried Tari, but she kept her emotions in check because, even more worrisome, Tari could feel her bond with Arion. It wasn’t a sputtering candle, it was a roaring festival fire, burning tall
and hot.

If Tari could speak
perfect Calnoric when their bond was stronger, Tari wouldn’t put it past Arion to be able to read her thoughts.

“You’re angry?” Eric said, almost stopping in surprise.

Tari whisked him through the dance. “I am. I cannot believe the courts reject your family. Crown Prince Benjimir was four paces away and he gawked like a peasant instead of defending you,” Tari said, her eyes narrowing fractionally.

Eric let Tari continue to lead. “I thought elves don’t get the whole political intrigue, feuding families thing.”

“We don’t. I don’t. But while the majority of my race would shrug it off as human peculiarities, I am one of the few that will dig in and end it,” Tari said, glancing over her shoulder at the still stunned crowd.

“Why? Why would you bother yourself? Our conduct is
embarrassing. Elves would never squabble. Why involve yourself?” Eric asked.

“Because,” Tari said, somewhat distracted as she tried to maneuver through the next bit of the dance. “Arion is my bond partner. He is an import
ant person in my life, and it pains me to see his family dishonored.”

“
King Petyrr is right,” Eric sighed. “Arion is the luckiest man in Calnor.”

Tari
laughed. “I am honored you think so.”

“
It is not just me, everyone says so,” Eric earnestly said. “You’re beautiful, gracious, you put up with Arion, and now you speak human? You are an incredible person. Elf.”

They whisked past the snobbish girls Tari had slighted. The girls looked both shocked and furious.
“I’m certain not everyone feels that way,” Tari said wryly. “But I thank you for your kind words. I believe you are a, what did you call me? An incredible person, too,” Tari nodded with conviction.

Eric bl
ushed bright red. “Oh,” he said, stumbling in the dance. “I’m just, I’m nobody special.”

“Yes, you are,” Tari argued. “Your friendliness and affability
are admirable.”

“Thank you,” Eric said, growing redder still.

“If you will excuse my interruption, I suspect you have flirted with my bond partner long enough, little brother” Arion said, his deep voice wry and unimpressed.

“Arion!” Eric said, stopping the dance and taking a leap back from Tari.

“Hello Arion,” Tari said, linking her arm through his. “Why the interruption? We were having such a wonderful time dancing.”

Arion eyed Tari. “It looked to me
like only one of you was dancing. The other was drooling like a dog.”

Eric edged away from the bonded pair, avoiding their eyes. “I think I hear our sister calling me, yes I’m sure she is. I’ll go see what she wants,” he said
before walking away at a brisk pace.

Tari watched him go with a slight smile.

“You are mad at me because I—feeling that my family would be abusing your presence—fail to invite you to a tea. Yet you learn
Calnoric
and do not think to tell me?” Arion asked, one eyebrow pushed up in an inquisitive arch.

The faintest hint of
pink tinged Tari’s fair skin. “I wasn’t going to tell anyone until I spoke perfect,” Tari said, some of the awkwardness in her pronunciation returning. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Why learn it? Truthfully I imagine it would be more useful to us if I learned elvish,” Arion said, strolling from the whirl of dancers, Tari at his side.

Tari internally constructed her response before she spoke. Tari would never doubt her rulers. She knew the Elvish Royal Family was honorable to the last drop of their blood. It would be rude to imply that the human royals were not on the same level. Later, much later, maybe she would share her observation about Crown Prince Benjimir. “I wanted to learn it. I noticed I could start picking out words, and with a little work I could understand common phrases, like “The weather is nice,” and such. I thought if I dedicated myself to it and received some help, I would be able to learn it quick.”

Arion narrowed his eyes. “Someone is helping you.”

“Yes.”

“You won’t tell who?”

“Correct.”

“Hmm,” Arion was silent as they drew alongside a table of refreshments. “The fact that you can speak so fluently in a matter of weeks is… unheard of,” he said.

Tari nodded and took great pains to speak in Calnoric, very much aware of all the eyes trained on the captain and her. “I thought so too. Truthfully I do not normally speak so well. I told your brother it was because of my irritation, but I think it something to do with our bond. It feels… stronger.”

Tari hesitated
and studied Arion, who was thoughtfully nodding. “Can you sense more than my… emotions, now?”

A wry smile decorated Arion’s features. “You mean can I read your mind? No. My comprehension
of you is on the same level it has always been.”

Tari almost sighed in relief before catching herself. “I see.”

Arion and Tari walked away from the refreshment table and continued on, silent in spite of the cloud of gossip that surrounded them. “You do realize the Translators’ Circle will probably badger you for more interviews, now,” Arion said after a few moments of silence.

“That occurred to me. I never thought I would say this, but I’m glad
Seer Ringali is here. The elf translators know better than to interrupt an Evening Star practice when he is present, and they will instruct the human translators to stay away as well. His presence will shelter me for the worst of it, I think.”

Arion nodded and watched King Petyrr barrel in their direction. “I believe we are about to be interrupt
ed, but Tari,” the captain gravely said, spinning Tari to face him. “No more surprises?”

Tari nodded. “No more surprises,” she agreed.

If only
…

Chapter 7

Attacked on all sides

The following day
Tari winced, her joints creaking as she hobbled across her sitting room. “By all that is good in this Continent, I
hurt
,” she moaned, going lax before allowing herself to flop face first on a backless couch. “Seer Ringali is vindictive.”

Somehow the older elf had learned of Tari’s prediction that the translators would leave her alone if she was with him. He agreed this to be true, but told her he was going to make her
wish
for the translators.

“It worked,” Tari said, getting a mouthful of cushion.

Evlawyn swept into the room, throwing the door open with such force it cracked on the wall. “My Lady!”

“What.
” Tari said, her voice muffled.

“Captain Arion has asked that you would meet him at his office.
Now
,” Evlawyn said, hurrying to Tari’s side.

Tari picked her head off the couch. “What?”

“He used gestures to communicate this, I’m not certain I correctly translated all the sign language, but I feel I got the base of the message,” Evlawyn said, helping Tari to a standing position.

“I’m still in my practice uniform, do I have time to change?” Tari asked, rubbing at her covered arms.

Evlawyn shook her head. “I don’t know, I’m not certain. The captain… he, he seemed upset.”

Tari shot out of the room, moving at the fastest walk she could muster although her muscles screamed at her. She swept through the
palace, taking the shortest route possible to Arion’s office in the southern wing.

When she finally arrived s
he opened the door. “What is it? Evlawyn said you seemed upset. What’s going on?”

Arion looked up from reading a letter. His expression was an odd mixture of surpr
ise and uncertainty. “I would not say I’m upset, but I have received some interesting news,” Arion said, holding up the letter as he leaned back in his chair.

Tari sagged in relief.
Of course he’s not upset, Arion doesn’t get upset
.

“What news?
” Tari asked, walking across the room.

“I’ve been reassigned to my previous
army position and squad in the northern army at Sacred Wood,” Arion said.

Tari stopped walking. “What?
” she asked, her face growing numb.

“The Guard Commander has given me leave to return to my post,” Arion said, dropping the letter on his desk.

Tari swallowed and internally froze her wailing emotions. “They’re asking you to, or they’ve informed you?”

“A little of both. The letter says I’ve been reassigned, but
my position is high enough that I can refuse the post,” Arion said, finally standing. His chair scraped as he pushed it back.

“You will be going,” Tari said. She was fighting a battle on all ends. She wanted to cry and be reduced to a snotty mess—but she couldn’t—and she wanted to internally rail and despair—which she wouldn’t.

Arion walked over to Tari. “Not necessarily. Would you like me to go?”

“W-what?” Tari asked, rapidly blinking to keep herself from crying as Arion stopped an arm’s length away from her.

“If I accept the post and leave Haven you would be allowed to return home as well.”

Tari almost laughed.
Go home?
She was ashamed to admit it, but missing her home port city of Gloria hadn’t even registered in the last few weeks. Yes, she longed to see the ocean again, but she wanted to stay with Arion more.

“But,” Tari started before falling silent.

“Do you want me to take the post?” Arion asked. His voice rumbled like the roar of a wave.

Tari opened her mouth, intend
ing to ask Arion if he wanted to. She shut her mouth with a click. Why stretch it out when she could genuinely end it here? “No,” she quietly admitted, lowering her eyes.

Tari went from numb to painfully aware of everything when Arion took a step forward. “Then I won’t,” he
said simply before sliding his arms around Tari’s waist and pulling her into an embrace.

His arms were heavy on her back, but she felt sheltered. The edges of his shoulder guards uncomfortably poked Tari’s face until she squirmed, nesting her head
against his neck. She could hear every whoosh of air he breathed, and his chest was warm and broad—in spite of the chainmail that covered it.

Tari sighed and
relaxed her stance, letting Arion bear more of her weight as she shut her eyes and rested in the warmth of his presence. The captain eventually snaked one hand up her back, combing his glove covered fingers through Tari’s loose and messy hair.

This is bliss
.

Tari was barely aware of Arion lowering his head. When she could feel his warm breath on her neck the door opened.

Arion released a strange combination of a roar and a bark, and someone—Wilford probably based on the pitch—squealed and slammed the door shut.

“Never get a moment’s peace around here,” Arion muttered. He was standing straighter, and Tari could almost feel the captain narrowing his
rain cloud eyes at the door.

Tari chuckled
before cutting off her snicker and popping her eyes open. She suspiciously took mental inventory of herself, hoping Arion hadn’t read more off her than joy that he was staying. She took up the reins to her emotions—snapping the whip at the nagging reminder she was in love with the captain—and stepped back from Arion.

She smiled at him, hop
ing the only thing he could feel was happiness. “I’m sorry, you obviously have work to do, and I need to change. I’ll leave,” she said, wrinkling her nose as she looked down at her clothes.

Arion nodded, reaching out to nudge a lock of Tari’s hair over her shoulder. “I’ll see you at the banquet tonight.”

“I am looking forward to it. We can lure King Petyrr into mooning over Princess Claire again,” Tari laughed before opening the door and ducking out of Arion’s office.

She avoided eye contact with Wilford and one of his patrol guards, and
swept down the hallway.

“Tari.”

Tari almost fell off the tree branch she was hanging upside down from. “Arion?” she blinked as the captain navigated his way through Tari’s practice garden.

“What are you doing?” Arion said,
his image upside down as Tari hung from the tree.

“Hanging sit
ups.”

“What?”

“Watch,” Tari said, hanging from the tree by her curled knees. She folded her arms behind her head and curled her head and upper body up over her waist, pausing a moment before curling back down.

“That looks torturous,” Arion said.

“They’re rather difficult,” Tari admitted, swinging slightly. “Did you need something?”

“Is Seer Ringali around?” Arion asked, momentarily turning to inspect the gardens.

“No. He gave me the day’s exercises and left. He’s performing for some of the bonded elves.”

“
I see. There is a problem.”

Tari grabbed the branch with her hands and flipped off it, landing in a graceful crouch. “What?”

Arion held out a piece of paper. “The Guard Commander vetoed my refusal.”

“What?” Tari said, reaching out to
snatch the paper from Arion, only to remember that although she could
speak
Calnoric she couldn’t
read
it. She handed the paper back. “What does it say?”

“It admits that they cannot veto my refusal—it would be a different story if we were in the middle of a war, but we are not—but it says if I refuse
they will end my military benefits and cut my salary. I’m surprised they did not threaten to demote me.”

“What are your military benefits?”

“Free housing in the palace, meals, an absence pay to my family, all my mounts are technically owned by the military, my uniforms, there’s more but those are the main benefits,” Arion listed. He did not sound much bothered by the idea that the benefits would no longer be available to him.

“What?” Tari yelped. “Basically they would give you the boot and make you work for very little.”

“Indeed. It seems that someone is very anxious to see me leave Haven,” Arion said, calmly folding the letter.

Tari grabbed the tip of her braid and tugged. “Do you want to leave?” she weakly asked.

“No,” Arion said. “And I’m not going to.”

Tari exhaled in relief. “I am glad,” she said before puffing up. “
But there is no way we can allow this bullying to continue. Come on,” Tari said, storming out of her garden.

“Where are we going?”

“To see King Celrin.”

“
Perhaps we humans do not give you elves enough credit,” Arion said, shifting in his formal armor.

“Why do you say that?” Tari asked,
brushing the long sleeves of her gown down so she could adjust her hair.

“We see you as being
a defenseless race. One without cunning and guile. I no longer think that is true.”

Tari snorted. “
It is. If anyone with a decent amount of organization attacked us we would be overtaken. Few of us can fight, and there are not nearly enough of us to form more than an offensive strike or two. We can be cunning, yes, but we haven’t the stomach for war tactics and the useless squabbling you humans entrench yourselves in,” she said, peering around the corner. “We still are very much in debt to Calnor for protecting us. We would be long gone without you.”

“I do not doubt you need us. Your race is too noble for somethi
ng like war, but I never had the chance to admire elf brilliance before our bond. Nor did I think King Celrin could have such a degree of shrewdness in him.”

“
His plan is perfect, but only if they
do
take this route, as My King Celrin thought they would,” Tari cautioned before she turned to stare at the images sculpted and chipped into the wall.

It was a war scene, one between the men of Calnor and the High Elves.
Tari grimaced, studying her war prone cousins. Even in the stone record their beauty was cold, powerful, and cruel.

“If it weren’t for the Lesser Elves I would think the High Elves to be nothing but fairytales, told by mothers to inspire caution in their children,” Arion said, leaning against the corridor railing as he too studied the wall scene.

“They’re real,” Tari promised, casting her eyes over a tribe of gorgeous elves who were hurling spears shrouded in lightning at the defenseless humans.

“Do you believe the legends that say they will return to the Continent? It’s been centuries since they left,” Arion said.

Tari looked away from the wall, as if the scene pained her. “Regardless of what I believe, I do not think it is wise to forget them.”