Guardian of Honor. Robin D. OwensЧитать онлайн книгу.
flinched. “The last time the Marshalls consulted the Song, it was an eighty-percent chance of achievement.”
Luthan lifted a shoulder. “Circumstances change.”
“We were luckier than we thought,” Faith said, smoothing the page of one of her books.
This change, and the new information, disturbed Thealia. But she couldn’t afford to let it show. “And your replacement?”
“I thought to offer it to my brother.”
“Bastien?” Mace laughed so hard he nearly fell off his chair.
“That rogue…in a responsible position? Impossible,” Thealia said.
“What’s impossible is the thought of the three of them—Reynardus, Luthan and Bastien—here on the Council.” Johnsa shaded her eyes as if trying to banish the vision. “We’d never get anything done.”
“Bastien is a good man,” said his brother. “Undervalued and underestimated. Further, as delegates, we would follow the instructions of our patrons.”
That started Mace laughing again. “As if Bastien ever followed any instructions, ever!” he said between snorts. “I thank you for the laugh, my friend. But we should proceed with business.”
Thealia scrutinized Luthan. What were his instructions? He’d just made her job harder. She sought to keep him off balance. “Does your father know you’re the new Cloister Representative and that you’re here?”
His jaw tensed.
So. His father didn’t know. Not surprising since the last she’d heard, the whole family had fragmented, Reynardus’s sons moving to their own holdings or camping in the field with the Chevaliers.
She didn’t press the issue. Luthan would inherit from Reynardus one day, and there was that wide streak of silver at his left temple as well as a few strands at his right. His personal Power was strong, and he might become a Marshall in the future.
“Why are you here?” Thealia asked.
Luthan’s gaze went to the image of Alexa. “The Chevaliers heard the Summoning was a success. This changes the whole battle plan.”
“As we told you it would,” Thealia said dryly. “Though you doubted us. Do you stay to be part of the Choosing and Pairing?”
His eyes widened in horror. His cheeks reddened a bit. “Ah, no. I didn’t come for The Choosing and Pairing. Nor has any other Chevalier.”
Thealia just raised her eyebrows and stared at him. He shifted in his seat.
She continued. “That is the next step, you know. To Pair our Exotique—Alyeka—with a person of Lladrana so she will stay. The Chevaliers should be here.”
Luthan frowned and leaned forward. “Let’s call your ‘Choosing’ exactly what it is. It’s a forced, involuntary life and blood-bond—a bossechain. Her Choosing will not be a ritual to find and love a mate. Her bond will not be a coeurdechain.” His smooth and quiet tones had disappeared and his voice took on a harshness that echoed his father’s.
“Semantics,” she said, but her lips tightened. She met his eyes. “It isn’t quite ethical, but over the centuries we’ve found it necessary and effective.”
He sat up straight. “It is wrong.”
She raised her eyebrows again. “We gave our new Marshall a choice of bedmates last night, in the hopes we could avoid the formal ritual. She retired alone.
“The rest of us are agreed. Do you choose to challenge us, Chevalier Luthan, with combat? Or call a vote of all the Castle, Tower, Chevaliers, Cloister and Towns?”
Luthan shoved his chair back and stepped away from the Council table, distancing himself from the decision. He leaned back against the stone wall, ignoring the chill that would bite even past the argenthide of his riding clothes, and folded his arms.
“I choose to personally disagree for the Lorebook.”
Thealia sighed. “Always so contrary. Of two options you always choose a third.”
A touch of a smile graced his lips. He glanced at the little model of Alexa and a hint of pity passed over his face. “And this Choosing will take place this afternoon.”
“So, you did read the Castle information board?” Thealia stared coolly down her nose. “The funds and lands that come with Alyeka as her dowry could greatly benefit you.”
“Not at that cost. I won’t be offering a token for the Choosing Table.” He headed for the door.
“Luthan, before you go, cleanse yourself as if for a great ritual and use the protection pool,” Thealia called.
He paused. His brows lowered as he studied the Marshalls. “It really does make a difference?”
“Now, and probably in the future,” Thealia agreed.
“Is it true that it’s painful?”
“Agony,” Partis said cheerfully. “But you’re a tough, young knight, you’ll handle it.”
Luthan grimaced, outlined the badge on his tunic in an absent gesture. He glanced at Thealia. “Is it a suggestion, or an order?”
Thealia felt her face soften, wondered if it was evident to the others. She had such a love and delight in Reynardus’s sons, this one in particular. “Only a strong suggestion.”
Luthan ran a hand through his hair. “I can be cleansed, in and out of the pool before the Choosing. I’ll inform Bastien of this conversation this evening. I’m sure he will take advantage of the pool also—if for no other reason than his pride.”
Mace cleared his throat and Luthan turned to him. “Yes?”
“If you flew in on a feisty volaran stallion, after the pool you might want to leave on a gentle mare.”
Nodding shortly, Luthan bowed to them and turned.
“Luthan,” Thealia said.
He looked over his shoulder.
“I don’t believe your father thought of using the pool. You might remind him.”
Luthan’s gray eyes clouded, chilled. He inclined his head. “My squire will send him a note,” he said stiffly, then left.
“The boy had a point about the Choosing and Pairing,” said the oldest Marshall, Albertus.
“Do we have to discuss this again?” Thealia asked.
There was silence around the table. Several Marshalls wouldn’t meet her eyes. She didn’t like a forced blood-bond any more than the rest.
It could be chancy: if the drug mixture or amount wasn’t right, or if the drugs affected the Exotique’s judgment so she made a bad choice. To be tied her entire life, mind, body and heart to the wrong man—Thealia cut off her thoughts. She couldn’t afford them. There were many others who had and would sacrifice themselves for Lladrana—Alexa was just one more cost.
It was unfortunate that she would be forced, but how they needed her Power! The Spring Song had prophesied that the Exotique was the solution to their failing boundaries—the melody rippling out in a hopeful trill.
Thealia hardened her heart and her expression. When she met each of the Marshall’s eyes again, she infused them with her own determination. This had to be done.
4
“Call me Sinafin,” the fairy had said in Alexa’s dream, twirling and tinkling like wind chimes. The little being was no more than three inches high and completely pink—lacy wings, pointed ears, hair, tiny gown—everything.
Sinafin had stared at Alexa as much as Alexa had stared at her, and for as long.
“I