Protector of the Flight (39 page)

She
went cold—hands, lips, gut. “The Marshalls and Alexa and Marian asked us to
come.”

“And
we’re here. We can only hope we won’t leave our daughter an orphan.”

There
was nothing she could say to that. The silence stretched, for the first time
since they’d bonded, uncomfortable.

“If
you insist that I come with you, I’ll forsake my duty.”

27

H
e dropped her
hands, lifted a tent flap for a moment to watch the bustle of the camp. More
than his face was inscrutable. She could barely hear his Song through the rush
of her own blood.

“That’s
your main fault, Calli. You want to please everyone.”

It
was like a slap, she took a step back, couldn’t figure out what to say, settled
on what might cause the deepest hurt but would be the deepest truth. “Do you
regret bonding with me?”

Again
his gaze met hers, hooded. “No.”

She
wondered if that was because he’d received what he’d wanted all his life.

“Do
you want me at our estate or not?”

“I
always want you.”

And
that might annoy him. But the Pairbond between them could not be broken. He
could withdraw, she could step back in pain, but they were linked together.

He
made a rough sound. “I see Marian and Jaquar are here. I wonder if they will
take the field.”

“Jaquar
has fought before.”

“But
not the Exotique Circlet.”

“She
battled the Dark in its nest.” Calli frowned. “And she fought when she came
back—” Calli realized the points he was making.

“She
completed her task and she returned after the Snap. You haven’t completed your
task, whatever it might be, and this present endeavor may lead to our deaths
before that is done. Will you stay on Earth when your Snap comes?”

A
cry ripped from her. She stumbled toward him, put her arms around him, but he
didn’t return her embrace. Still his heart beat faster, his Song enveloped her
now she was against him.

“I
am Pairbonded to you and bloodbonded to
our daughter.
I won’t return to
Earth.” Any love she’d ever found was here.

His
hand brushed her hair, just once. “You must know your priorities, Calli.”

“You.
You and Diaminta.”

“So
you say, but you don’t fly with me home today,” he said.

She
hesitated.

His
face hardened.

“No,
I’m not flying home. Perhaps you’re right, I want to please people. I want
people’s trust.” She wanted to be loved.

Because
she needed to pace and carry on, she kept very still. She put her fist on her
heart. “I feel that I must be here now, though I want to be with you more than
I can say.”

There
was one thing she
could
do. “Diaminta must be fully protected. I’d like
to accept some new Chevaliers into our service, set them on rotation, too, here
with u—me, and at home.”

He
frowned. “Good idea.” Then he surveyed the field of tents one more time. “Four
more would be best, and that will delay construction of the indoor arena until
spring.”

Calli
nodded. The indoor arena was her main dream as a trainer, but it was also the
most costly outbuilding.

Without
looking at her, he asked, “Will you fly as Shield to someone else during the
times I am gone and battle is engaged?”

Shock
flooded her and she knew he had the answer to his question through their link
before she managed to answer. “No. Never.”
I’m a lover, not a fighter.

He
nodded. “What will you do?” His gaze had focused on the large training ring
going up near their tent.

She
cleared her voice. “In my Power lessons I have been crafting spellsongs to kill
dreeths in battle, especially the little ones.”

A
pulse of surprise came from him to her and he looked at her again, this time
his face less expressionless, interest gleaming in his eyes. “Yes?”

“Yes.”
She licked her lips. “It’s more Shield Power than fighting.”

Did
his gaze soften a little? Was there pride in it? She hoped so. “Dreeths have
focused on us the last three battles. And we’ve killed all three.” His eyebrows
came down. “In different ways.”

“I
know. I don’t get caught up in the fighting—lust—as you do. I’ve been
experimenting.” Anything to keep deep panic from freezing her. “If…when…you
must go and I must stay, I will train others.”

“Marrec!”
The shout came from Koz. He peeked inside the tent. “I have the man here,” Koz
elbowed Faucon, “who will answer some estate management questions for us.”

Marrec’s
attention immediately veered from her, fastened on the men outside, on his
priority of tending their estate. Calli couldn’t fault him for it.

“I’ll
be right there,” he said, then whispered, “I’ll see you later.”

He
was gone before she could reply.

A
n hour and a
half later, she stood in a landing area and watched her husband fly away.

“Hey,
pretty lady.” The words were Lladranan but lilted in an English accent. She
turned to see Koz.

“Hey,
Koz.”

He
jerked his head toward the main camp. “Wanna beer?”

Sensing
nothing but sympathetic companionship coming from him, she smiled and kept her
mouth from trembling, sniffed back tears. “Sounds great.” She walked with him
along an angle to his pavilion, realizing it was made of the best materials and
had several rooms, was actually larger than her and Marrec’s tent.

A
man sat on a stool outside the pavilion with a whetstone, sharpening a sword.
He had a number of weapons beside him, including a long fancy dagger that
seemed to glow. She blinked, tilted her head to try and hear what sort of Song
emanated from it. Not Lladranan.

“Medieval
Damascene,” he said. “I—uh—brought it with me. Marian didn’t know.” A flow of
embarrassment came from Koz. Now that she’d spent more than a few minutes alone
in his company, she realized she could sense his emotions easier than any true
Lladranan’s.

Even
Calli had heard of Damascus steel. “Wow,” she said.

“Yeah,
I’m the envy of all.” His smile flashed as they entered his pavilion. “I was
lucky enough to bring plenty of jewels and some gold with me from Earth. I’ve
got a nice rich estate now.” He nodded to the man outside. “But only one
Chevalier to fly under my banner.”

“Your
Maserati banner,” she said.

He
grinned. “Guilty.” A hint of wistfulness shadowed his eyes. “I could never
drive on Earth.”

He’d
had multiple sclerosis there, she knew, when he was Andrew. Here he had a
healthy body. “Volarans are better than cars any day.”

Laughing,
he said, “You got that right.” Then he went to a chest and hummed a couple of
bars of “I Can’t Get No Satisfaction,” to release a lock, she realized. He held
up a bottle of beer and she gasped, was pulled to the small chest.

“My
last one.”

“Don’t
waste—”

But
she was too late, he’d snapped off the top. He offered the bottle to her. Just
the scent of it took her back to dusty rodeo days. Man. She couldn’t refuse. She
should. Couldn’t. Tipping the bottle, she let cool beer trickle into her mouth,
coat her tongue. Oh, yeah! The taste was all Earth, and for that she closed her
suddenly damp eyes and savored. But she only took a swallow, then handed the
bottle back to him.

He
was still grinning.

“I
like the ale better, here, too,” she said.

He
wiped the top of the bottle on his shirt, and guzzled, smacked his lips, then
shrugged. “I do, too.”

They
laughed together. Gesturing with the bottle, he pointed to fat pillows made of
plush rugs on the floor. “Nice,” she said.

“I
remember my Arabian Nights.” He struck a pose. “I think I’ve already started a
trend. Faucon was in here, took one look and left to commission some.”

Calli
sighed and sank onto one of the pillows. “Really nice.”

“Thanks.”
He sat, too, stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankle. “I’ve got it
lucky.”

“I
don’t think so,” she said.

Once
more he smiled, eyes crinkling. “Maybe not at first, but now, yeah.” He angled
the bottle to her, then toward the encampment outside the door. “I wasn’t
really Summoned, so I don’t have to worry about fulfilling any quest.”

The
taste in her mouth turned bitter. She stood.

He
did, too. “Don’t let all this stuff get you down, Calli. You’re doing great.”

She
forced a smile. She didn’t think so.

“Really.”
He turned around and swiped a water bladder. “Here. I set up a little brewery
on my estate. Finest ale you’ll find on Lladrana.”

“Different
people have different tastes.”

He
cocked his head. “Very true. But by any standard, you, Calli Torcher Gardpont,
have made the grade.”

Her
smile felt strained. She didn’t think so. Her husband had left her, her
daughter avoided her. All she’d wanted was love, and that still escaped her.
“Thanks for the ale.”

With
an inclination of his head, Koz opened the pavilion’s flap so she could leave.
“You’re very welcome.”

As
she walked back to her own three-room tent, she kept her smile in place and
returned greetings, both human and volaran. Still, emptiness was a big hole in
her chest. Their squires weren’t near her tent, though other guards were and
she nodded to them and went inside to an equally empty place.

What
the hell, she uncapped the bota and swigged. The ale was perfect.

Marrec
would have thought so, too. But he wasn’t there to share the drink or
conversation, stories of the day. Or love.

A
s Marrec flew
toward home, he noticed he was…lonely. He kept peering through the Distance
Magic bubble, looking for Calli. This was the first time they’d be apart for
any appreciable time. They’d just developed their partnership…which seemed a
little shaky right now. Because they disagreed.

He
was right.
He didn’t like leaving Diaminta more than a day and a night alone without her
parents, and those damn nobles were keeping Calli, at least, tied down with
their demands. He wasn’t used to being high status and he had little tolerance
for their interminable meetings. If he had to fly to battle, they could direct
him as they always had. He didn’t want to learn strategy.

He
wanted to learn ranching. To make sure he was equal with Calli in that. She’d
had a ranch on Exotique Terre, but she wouldn’t know Lladranan methods. He
wanted to learn farming, how to ensure their estate produced enough to feed
them and the people who lived on it. And it was best to do this before winter.
But Calli’s sad Song…he shook his head. Someone had to take care of their
child. He had to prepare for the future.

Now
that he was sure he had a future. He was doing this for Calli, too. But Dark
Lance did not speak to him all the way home, kept his equine thoughts
distant—except for one time when the volaran wondered what was happening at the
camp.

When
Marrec landed and strode up to the door of his home, and his daughter held out
her arms in welcome and said, “Pa. Pa. Pa,” he knew he’d made the only choice
he could have. Even though her little face wrinkled and she looked around,
searching for Calli. Who wasn’t with him.

T
hat afternoon
the alarms rang. Calli knew these bells now. A large retrousse rising in an
area where they’d fought more than a half-dozen times over the last few weeks.
She ran for her tent. Her squire and maid blocked the opening, arms crossed.

Her
squire lifted an eyebrow. “You aren’t thinking of fighting, are you? Of being
Shield to someone other than Marrec?”

It all
came rushing back and hurt, hurt, hurt. Marrec wasn’t just somewhere else in
the camp. He was gone.

She
pushed her voice past her clogged throat. “No.”

Shouts
came as volarans soared, flying to battle.

“No,”
she repeated. She turned away from the tent. “Some new volarans flew in last
night from Volaran Valley. I’ll go work with them, teach them the basics of
partnering, determine what sort of person each would fit well with.”

She
reached the large corral that was set aside for wild volarans—they always knew
to land here rather than into other areas where the partnered volarans had
formed their own herd. She blinked as she saw Lord Veenlit and his Chevalier,
Raoul Lebeau, leaning on the fence. Veenlit pointed to a pretty buckskin mare.

“I
thought you’d be fighting,” she said.

“Not
our rotation.” Veenlit smiled.

He
lied. The fact was that he didn’t intend to fight, seemed to think that renting
space to the Marshalls and Chevaliers was his contribution to the effort to
free Lladrana from the Dark. For a northern lord, he was offhand about
protecting his lands, but this portion was miles away from his manor in a rich,
secure mountain valley.