by Frank Morin
She rose. "My time is short, but if you can guarantee we'll remain undisturbed, let's walk with the earth again together."
Even though his muscles began aching just thinking of training with her again, Connor eagerly accepted. With the new insights into working with multiple stones, perhaps he would gain new mastery over earth.
If Ilse didn't beat him to death first.
Connor asked Tomas and Cameron to clear out all the spies and then ensure he remained undisturbed for some private training. Ten minutes later, Tomas reported the facility clear.
"The spies are pretty upset," he commented. "Messed up the entire afternoon's schedule."
"I'll try to make it up to them," Connor promised. "Maybe let a couple of them spy on my dinner tomorrow."
"They'll appreciate it," Tomas said with a nod. "We'll arrange for fish if you promise to bring some marble and put on a show."
"What kind of show?" Connor asked slowly.
Tomas shrugged. "We spread the word that fish makes you gassy."
He really didn't want the Fast Rollers peeking in on his training with Ilse to make more ridiculous requests, so he agreed. Tomas left, whistling a happy, if not quite harmonious tune to himself.
His private training facility lacked a lot of earth, but he and Ilse found some packed around the liquid fuel vats.
"Today we'll focus on fine-tuning applications of earth anyway," Ilse said. "This will do."
Connor slipped some slate into his boot and imagined the gateway to earth more as a sunken pit, lined with slate stones carved with barely-decipherable words of wisdom. He imagined stepping down into the soft earth inside that pit to immerse himself in the element.
It seemed to like him thinking of it like that.
Ilse directed him in forming spears and grasping fingers of earth. The element worked less well than water or fire in creating flexible constructs, but even a slender finger of earth possessed incredible strength.
Connor's control improved rapidly under Ilse's brutal tactics, and he almost held his own against her a couple of times as they sparred with their reduced earthen arsenal. The wily captain always managed an unexpected move though, tripping him or distracting him at a critical moment.
"You will grow stronger than me soon," Ilse admitted while Connor was spitting dirt out of his mouth and healing fresh bruises from getting thrown halfway across the training facility. "But I'll still trounce you every time."
"The hawk, though chased oft by the blackbird, may yet one day turn and conquer," he said solemnly.
"Not on my watch." She thumped him in the forehead with one forefinger. "Brawn alone is not enough."
"Good," he said. "Because my army is lacking in brawn."
"Ponder the lessons you learned in Alasdair. The fog, though barely tangible, envelops entire mountains and holds valleys enthralled by its gentle touch."
"You're using slate too much," Connor said. "It's getting to your tongue."
Chapter 24
Connor enjoyed a sumptuous dinner in his suite, considering the lessons Ilse had taught while he ate. The huge table in his private dining room, piled high with food, was too much for a single person. So he called Tomas and Cameron to join him. They protested until he showed them the food.
Before the meal was over, he began to wish for that blessed silence he'd abandoned. Cameron insisted on practicing flowered prose, claiming Jean's feedback had been the key element he needed to perfect it.
He was wrong. If anything, those awful excuses for poems got steadily worse. Finally Connor couldn't take it any more. "I think you should share what you've learned with Captain Rory."
Cameron growled something that sounded like, "blasted fist full of bony knuckles."
Tomas chuckled. "The captain said if he ever heard Cameron spout such ridiculous nonsense again, he'd be cleaning latrines for a month."
"Maybe you should mention that Anika likes poetry."
"She does?" Cameron exclaimed.
"I'm pretty sure."
He left them arguing about whether or not it was worth the risk. Laughing, he sped through the undercity, back to the Sculpture House. He saw no one on the journey, lit no torch to guide his path. He was like a ghost slipping through the darkened corridors.
Why did he feel like someone was watching?
After changing back into his regular linn clothing, he stopped at Ailsa's office to discuss the events of the day. She had no new information to offer, and Gisela was away on an errand. Ailsa was pleased that he had already spoken with Ilse, and urged him to follow up with Jean.
"I'll see if I can," he promised. "Shona summoned me to her palace, so I'm heading there now anyway."
"Exercise caution," Ailsa warned. "We had to share this truth with those we've already contacted, but guard the secret from Shona."
When he reached Lord Nevan's palace, Shona and Lord Nevan met him in the second floor study where Shona usually held audiences. Lord Nevan wore a dark evening jacket over another of the heavily starched white shirts he favored. His expression was a bit haggard, and he eagerly made room for Connor.
Shona looked angry. She wore a formal gown of crimson and gold. The late afternoon sun streaming through the windows set the bright colors alive and played across her blond hair. She looked like a queen holding court, and gestured for Connor to approach, but did not rise to greet him, or suggest he take a seat like she normally did.
Connor greeted them both formally. "Lord Nevan, you look tired. I imagine negotiations were difficult."
"More like a disaster," Shona snapped, eyes flashing as she turned back to Nevan. "You didn't even get us a single decent Sentry."
"Declan has heart," Connor said. She spoke as if the army was hers, and he needed to nip that idea in its bony heart. "And as his commanding officer, I consider that the most important element for success."
Shona snorted, ruining the elegant effect her beautiful gown was trying to convey. "Don't pretend to greater abilities than you have, Connor. I taught you everything you know about battlefield management."
That was not exactly true, but she was clearly not in a mood for a reasonable argument. Maybe it was better if she also underestimated some of his abilities.
"Speaking of the army though," she rolled on, glaring at him. "What possessed you to make Catriona the other Boulder captain? She's a hopeless incompetent."
"Catriona has made more improvement in recent weeks than any two other students."
"Because she started at zero," Shona shot back. "I demand you replace her with someone else of my choosing."
"No."
That single word seemed to echo through the room, and the air suddenly felt chilly. Lord Nevan coughed into his hand. "If you will excuse me, I must review a number of contracts prior to meetings tomorrow."
Shona didn't even seem to notice him scurry away, her gaze locked onto Connor. For his part, Connor struggled to face her and keep his expression neutral.
"You would deny the order of your patron?" Shona asked in a whisper as hard as steel.
"Of course not," Connor scoffed. "I've sworn an oath to obey your every command, my lady." He paused for a single breath. "But where the army is concerned, I am your commanding officer, and there you are sworn to obey my commands."
Shona leaped to her feet. "How dare you?"
"You're the one who insisted I become a general. You swore an oath to the school to follow the orders of your commander in the Tir-raon."
As she started sputtering with anger, unable to make a coherent comment, Connor said innocently, "It's all part of the game, isn't it?"
She lunged, her beautiful dress flaring dramatically as her muscles hardened and her body shifted into the perfect lines of granite. She raised a fist, and Connor braced himself to take a blow that, as her Guardian, he dare not block.
Maybe he had pushed her a little too far?
It had felt so good, though. He'd take a hit for this.
She leaned forward, her blue eyes fl
ashing with indignant anger, but did not quite unleash the blow. Instead, she spun and marched away, crossing the entire long room before returning. Her pale cheeks were still colored with anger, and the look was quite alluring. Like a lovely pedra deciding whether to rip his head off.
"You try my patience, Connor."
"Sometimes it's hard for me to juggle both halves of my position here. I am your Guardian, Lady Shona, and I am sworn to your service. But you must allow me to act as general, or I cannot win this game for you."
"You must win," she said, sinking back into her chair and motioning him to sit nearby. "Oh, Connor, I'm sorry I let my anger get the best of me. It's just, with the assignments today, and dealing with Catriona all afternoon, I'm ready to snap."
"You should come practice with me in my Dawnus suite," Connor suggested. "Plenty of room to break things."
Her anger faded, replaced by a sly little smile. "Why, Connor, are you suggesting I sneak into your rooms tonight?"
That was not what he meant at all. He had been thinking how fun it would be to drench her in giant tubs of water.
She misinterpreted his smile and reached a tender hand to touch his. "You drive me crazy sometimes, my Guardian. Life is never boring around you."
Or safe around you, he wanted to say. Instead, he decided to try out Cameron's new flowered prose.
"Waves break against rocky shores
Birds wheel through the heavens, free
Truth glows with beauty."
Shona frowned. "Your Sentry-speak is getting worse."
"It actually a new form of poetry I'm learning."
Her frown deepened. "It's awful."
"It's kind of a battlefield tactic gone bad," he admitted.
She grimaced. "I must. . .request that Catriona be reassigned, General Lian." She stressed his name and even tried to look imploring. It was a good look for her. He needed to find ways to make her do that more often.
"I'm sorry, Captain," he replied crisply. "But I must deny your request."
"Why?" She exclaimed, slapping the arm of her chair. Those full lips of hers made for excellent pouts.
"Think about it. Catriona is a princess, and she's made a big deal about helping me win the nomination. Not granting her some kind of position would only create hard feelings, and I cannot afford that. We're already walking a fault line."
When she didn't immediately argue, he added, "Besides, she really is making progress. If anyone can help her learn how to be the leader she's supposed to be by birthright, it's you."
The compliment helped, but she grimaced again. "I don't know if anyone can help her."
"You must," he insisted, taking her hand in his. She seemed to like physical contact, and he needed her on his side. "I need the Boulder corps functioning at top capacity if we're going to have any chance of winning. So I'm relying on you to lead, but help Catriona think she's the one doing it."
Besides, keeping Shona occupied with Catriona and the Boulder squads would hopefully give him some extra time to hunt for the truth of patronage.
Shona sighed, then gave him a little smile. "I love that quick tongue of yours, Connor."
"Thank you, Captain."
"No," she said, leaning closer and drawing him to her. "Right now, I'm speaking to you as Shona."
She kissed him. A short, but deep kiss that left him breathless. Shona sure knew how to use those lips of hers when she wanted to.
Connor was just trying to figure out how to ask her more about patronage when she said, "Before you request more time from my serving girl, I will have you know that she will be busy and unavailable." When he tried to protest she shook her head. "Jean cannot ignore her duties to me, no matter how important your needs may be. She must remember her place."
Which of course was a reminder to him to remember his place, despite that recent kiss.
"Furthermore," Shona said. "I have approved Jok's request for Jean to attend him during a formal event in two days' time."
"What?" Connor exclaimed, but lowered his voice when she raised a single eyebrow in censorship. "I thought you were keeping him at a distance."
"He has promised to treat her with courtesy beyond her station," Shona said, looking unconcerned.
Connor was far from satisfied. He still fumed about Jok's orchestrating the collapse of the dome, and he didn't trust Jok around Jean for very long. He had wanted to get his hands on her since the first day he'd seen her.
"She is my servant," Shona said, her voice again haughty. "And her fate is entirely in my hands."
How much of that decision was based on Shona's desire to put Jean in her place, and how much was a warning to Connor? "It is your right."
"Let's not quarrel," Shona said, once again sounding pleasant. "What are your orders regarding training over the next days?"
Her good humor faded when he explained all of the modifications he planned for his training facility. "I need them as soon as possible. Ivor is doing the same thing, and I suspect the others are too. We're behind schedule and have to catch up."
"Do you have any idea how much all of that will cost?"
"I could take up a collection to raise funds," he suggested, schooling his face to remain neutral. He loved taunting her though.
"Don't you dare," she snapped, looking deeply offended, as expected. "My father is the richest high lord in the realm."
"Then I'm sure he'll agree to help in any way he can so I can train an army to win the Tir-raon for you."
"Of course," she said, looking resigned. Then she leaned against him. "We have to win, my Connor. We must."
That was perhaps the opening he needed. "Would losing affect your ability to maintain patronage for all of your Guardians?"
"What? Oh, of course not. I might be forced to accept agreements that could compromise my future plans, but patronage won't be at risk."
Did she mean she might be forced into an unwanted arranged marriage? He knew the feeling.
"How can you be sure?" Connor prodded. "You said before that you weren't sure of the limits."
Shona sat up and gave him a questioning look. "Why such an interest?"
"After Hector turned unclaimed, it makes me wonder."
"Hector's fate was a terrible tragedy," Shona said, taking his hand and massaging it with hers. The movement was surprisingly distracting. "Don't worry though, you're at no risk."
"It's just, with his patronage intact for so long, I would have thought it would have taken a lot longer for his curse to turn against him."
"Me too," Shona said with a thoughtful frown.
"How long have other Guardians who lost their patronage taken to turn?"
She shrugged. "I have no idea. As far as I know, no one has ever lost patronage after gaining it."
"Really? Even if they committed a crime?"
"Any crime severe enough to lose patronage is severe enough for execution," Shona said. "So they would have been executed."
She had threatened to rescind patronage if he defied her again. Would she do so, or just have Rory assassinate him? He hated having so many people he respected possibly preparing to kill him. It really dampened the possibility for lasting friendship.
Connor tried to ask another question, but Shona pressed her finger to his lips. "Enough of that for tonight. It's depressing."
"But--"
"In fact, I never want to discuss Hector again," she said. "I received word from my father just today that Hector's quarters will be emptied and all record of him will be expunged. So let it go, Connor."
She glanced down, then looked up through her lashes in a teasing way that Jean used to do to Connor and his friends while they were trying to win the first kiss from her. "In fact, I know the perfect way to restore our good humor."
Shona leaned forward to kiss him again, but Connor was not sure he could keep up the act. So as she leaned in, full lips parted slightly, confident in her mastery over him and the influence she wielded through her sensual advances, Connor leaned in to meet
her, reaching out to caress her cheek.
And lit his fingers on fire.
Shona shrieked and jumped back, patting her precious hair, the terror in her eyes making it clear she had not forgotten the last time he burned her hair off. It was just growing back into a respectable length too.
"What are you doing?" she cried.
Connor didn't have marble in his mouth, but he had sucked in some of its power before joining Shona, and he was happy he had. He shook his hand vigorously, trying to put out the fire, but only managed to spray sparks into the room.
Shona leaped away shouting, "Turn it off, dolt!"
"I'm sorry," Connor said, snuffing out the fire. "I don't know what happened. I guess I just got too caught up in the moment and lost control."
"You can't afford to lose control," Shona hissed. "Especially not with marble."
"I'll be more careful," he promised, rising. "Was there anything else you needed, Shona?"
"No," she said with abundant disgust. "Go away."
Connor hid his smile as he left. Verena wouldn't have shrieked and run away if he had threatened her with fire. She would have punched him.
Thinking about those happy memories, Connor exited the building. In recent days, he'd felt depressed every time he thought of Verena, but for the first time he held on to a slender tendril of hope. Maybe there was a way.
Come hammers or high treason, he would find a way if it existed.
As he walked up the lane through the gathering darkness, Connor thought about the planned clearing out of Hector's quarters. That would remove anything that might help him learn the truth.
Connor had to search them first.
Chapter 25
The next day passed in a blur of activity. Connor made the morning rounds, on high alert for an ambush, but the students were too distracted with their new army assignments to do more than grumble. He barely managed to change into his Lian costume in time to train his army, followed by a meeting with the architect about reconfiguring his private practice facility.
He met out on the plain with Aonghus and Camonica for his personal training since workers were already swarming his suite to begin renovations. Tomas and Cameron and a squad of Boulders provided security and kept the session at least marginally private. That gave Cameron several opportunities to stroll past, reciting horrific renditions of flowering prose.