Roberson, Jennifer - Cheysuli 07 (28 page)

 
          
Tevis
rode abreast. "Will they have any
lir
of their own?"

 
          
Hart
shook his head. "Unlikely. It is mostly a gift given to warriors, though
occasionally a woman can speak with the
lir
,
or shift shape. My
rujholla
, Keely,
can, but it has yet to show itself in my line."

 
          
Tevis'
eyes were on Dulcie. "What of the smallest one? She, of all your children,
most resembles a true Cheysuli."

 
          
Hart
laughed. "Aye, she does—even more than Aidan or me. As for the
lir
-gifts, who can say? She is too young
yet to show them, even if they are hers."

 
          
"Would
it matter?" Aidan asked Tevis. "What if Blythe were blessed?"

 
          
Tevis
did not hesitate. "I do not care what she can do, or what her blood is
made of. I do not care who she
is
,
only that she be mine." He paused. "Should the Prince of Solinde be
willing."

 
          
Well
, Aidan reflected,
now it is out in the open
.

 
          
Hart's
left arm was wound around Dulcie, holding her against his chest. Right-handed,
he guided his mount. Not Bane's black son, but a quieter, more mannered bay
mare. Faintly, he smiled. "It is for Blythe to say."

 
          
"But—my
lord—"

 
          
"For
Blythe," Hart repeated. "If you were not worthy of her, you would not
be sharing her roof."

 
          
Or her bed
? But Aidan shook that off;
Hart could not know.
And now it is
official. If Tevis has been waiting for some sure sign of parental approval, he
need not doubt anymore
.

 
          
Shrieking,
Cluna and Jennet went tearing across the meadow. Aidan nearly winced.
"They will scare the game that way."

 
          
"Did
you come expecting to catch some?" Hart asked in surprise. "No… we
will see little enough with
those
two
riding free. But it is an excuse to get away. No one begrudges it."

 
          
Aidan
nearly laughed. "Then the walls chafe
you
."

 
          
"Aye,"
Hart agreed fervently. "I have never become accustomed… a holdover, I
think, from the days we lived in Keeps. Walls bind our souls…" He looked
at Tevis, riding quietly beside Aidan. "Do the mountains ever chafe you?
High Crags is so isolated… do you ever wish for something else?"

 
          
Something
indefinable flared in brown eyes. Then Tevis looked at the hooded hawk riding
quietly on his saddlebow. "Always," he said quietly.

 
          
For
one moment Aidan's
kivarna
came to
life. And then died away to ash, telling him nothing of the man. Tevis was
closed to him.

 
          
Why not
? he wondered sourly.
He has what he wants. What else is there to
read
?

 
          
"There,"
Hart said urgently. "Rael has seen something."

 
          
The
hawk spiraled lazily, then drifted downward. Aidan was about to remind Hart
that the hawk was not to hunt first, but a piercing scream broke the air as
Rael abruptly stooped.

 
          
"
Cluna
!" Hart cried. He caught
Dulcie against his chest in one firm arm and set his heels to the mare.

 
          
Teel
took to the air as Aidan went after Hart. Tevis brought up the rear, though the
hawk he carried on his saddlebow screeched and rang jess-bells in protest. They
could hear Jennet shouting.

 
          
Cluna
was huddled against the ground, crying. Close by, Rael drove again and again at
the speckled snake, dodging the reptile's deadly strikes. The hawk was too
large to be maneuverable, but his attempts distracted the snake from Cluna.

 
          
Hart
tried to dismount, cursing, but Dulcie's clutching arms tangled his efforts.
Jennet, silent now and white-faced, stood nearby with the horses, too
frightened to go closer.

 
          
Cluna
wailed something in Solindish Aidan did not understand. But he could tell by
the way she held her left arm cradled against her chest the snake had bitten
her. If they did not kill it and reach her quickly, it could be too late to
save her.

 
          
Teel
, he said through the link, swinging
off his mount even as Hart finished dismounting. Tevis, too, was on the ground,
saying something in Solindish.

 
          
"Wait!"
Aidan snagged Hart's arm and pulled him back. "Let our
lir
do the work… too many of us might
spoil their chance. And there is Dulcie to think of—"

 
          
Jennet
wailed something, still clutching reins. Hart's head snapped in her direction.
"Did it strike you? Jennet—did the snake bite you also?"

 
          
Wordlessly
she shook her head. Tears streaked her face. "No-no—only Cluna—"

 
          
Teel
danced around the snake, seducing it this way and that. From behind came Rael,
snatching at the place behind its head. Talons sank deeply, locking, and then
Rael rose to fly clear of them all, dangling the writhing snake.

 
          
"Here—"
Hart thrust Dulcie into Aidan's arms.

 
          
Even
as he did so, Tevis was at Cluna's side. The knife flashed in his hand as he
cut into the soft underflesh of her forearm, bisecting fang marks already
swollen and discolored. Cluna whimpered but otherwise held her silence, and
Tevis set his mouth over the cuts to suck the venom from her arm. The knife,
forgotten, fell to the grass.

 
          
Jennet
deserted her post with the horses and came to Aidan, reaching out to clutch a
hand in hers. He felt her trembling through his own flesh; through his
kivarna
he sensed shock, anguish, shame,
and a spirit full of fear.

 
          
In
Solindish, she said something. Aidan put a gentle hand on her blonde head.
Hair, as always, straggled out of its braid. "I have a poor grasp of your
tongue,
meijhana
. I am sorry."

 
          
She
gulped a swallow and tried again in Homanan. "I am
afraid
—"

 
          
"No
need," he told her quietly. "Your
jehan
is Cheysuli, remember? He need only call on the earth magic."

 
          
Her
face was very pale. "But he only has one hand—"

 
          
"
Shansu, meijhana
—I promise, it makes no
difference. Your
jehan
is not
crippled."

 
          
"But
he cannot be a warrior. Not a real one, because of his hand. He
said
so."

 
          
In
the daughter he heard a measure of the father's shame and anguish. Aidan's hand
tightened briefly on her head, then slipped to cup a shoulder tightly.
"Your
jehan
is as much a warrior
as any Cheysuli I know. He is denied clan-rights through old-fashioned
ignorance, not a failure on his part. I promise you,
meijhana
, your
rujholla
will be well."

 
          
Cluna,
crying silently, reached for Hart as he knelt to her. Tevis moved away as the
father scooped up his daughter. "Bleeding—" she quavered.

 
          
"For
the best," Hart told her. "Come,
meijhana
—I
will take you back to the castle. There I can summon the earth magic."

 
          
"Why
not here?" Aidan asked. "I can give you whatever help you need."

 
          
"My
thanks, but no. It will be frightening enough for her, even as it heals. It
will be better done in her own room, where she will feel safer. Tevis has bled
her quickly enough… the rest can wait that long." He approached the
horses, cradling Cluna in both arms. "Jennet?"

 
          
She
broke away from Aidan, twisting hands into tunic. "My fault," she
whispered. "The horse was afraid of the snake. Cluna fell when he sprang
aside, and the snake bit her—" She lost her Homanan entirely and slipped
again into Solindish, speaking too quickly for Aidan to decipher. But he saw
Hart's compassion as he paused briefly by her side.

 
          
"No,
meijhana
, it is not your fault. Now
mount your horse—you will come back with us." He glanced at Aidan.
"Can you and Tevis bring Dulcie?"

 
          
"Of
course,
su'fali
." Aidan smiled
as the girl twisted in his arms to reach a fist in her father's direction.
"I would not give her up when I have only just met her."

 
          
Tevis
rose from where he had knelt to bleed Cluna. "I will bring her
horse."

 
          
Distracted,
Hart nodded and turned to his own mount. He set Cluna up into the saddle and
hastily mounted, gathering her in against him as he hooked the cuffed stump
around her abdomen. Her head tipped back against his shoulder, displaying a
too-pale face. Dulcie, who had held the place first, protested in Aidan's arms.

 
          
Hart
looked at Jennet. "Hurry," he told her, sending her flying to her
mount. In a moment both horses and the great hawk were gone.

 
          
Aidan
looked at Tevis. "No doubt he will remember to thank you when Cluna is
settled. Until then, accept
my
gratitude."

 
          
Tevis'
smile was faint. "For Cluna, if not for Blythe?"

 
          
Aidan
sighed. "Aye, well… I will not contest it. You know as well as I that if I
did, it would make no difference. I am neither blind nor a fool… you have won,
Tevis. Be proud, but not
too
proud;
she is still my kinswoman, and Cheysuli. When you marry one of us, you marry us
all."

 
          
"If
I wanted a red-haired Cheysuli as my kinsman, I would have bedded
you
."

 
          
Holding
Dulcie, Aidan froze. And then he heard the quiet irony in Tevis' tone as the
High Crags lord turned to gather up the reins of Cluna's mount, patiently
cropping grass.

 
          
He
smiled crookedly.
Once I rid myself of
regret over Blythe, I may even like the man
—

 
          
Something
glinted in the grass. "Wait." Aidan bent to pick up Tevis' knife.
"Here—you have forgotten." He held it out.

 
          
Tevis
felt at his sheath, found it empty, put out his hand with a murmured word of
thanks. Aidan set the knife into Tevis' outstretched hand, and in that brief
moment of contact the
kivarna
flared
to life. Tevis was open to him.

 
          
Hostility. Pride. Barely suppressed
ambition. Impatience that he must wait, when so much was his for the taking.

 
          
Aidan
nearly gaped. "You
do
want the
throne! The throne and everything else!"

 
          
Ale-brown
eyes were smoky. Tevis did not even bother to ask Aidan how he knew.
"Aye," he said harshly. "I want it back. I want
everything
back."

 
          
"Back,"
Aidan echoed. "But it was never yours—"

 
          
Tevis
cut him off. "Not mine, but it would have been Dar's.
He
was heir to Solinde, even heir to Ilsa… but the shapechanger
came here and took it, took her, took it all—"

 
          
"He
inherited
," Aidan declared,
"from his father, the Mujhar, who inherited it from
his
father, who was bequeathed it by Carillon."