Protector of the Flight

by Robin D. Owens

  Which was probably just about as much as she could expect. She itched to get in the ring with them, she hadn’t been able to work a horse since before her fall in December. But they weren’t ready, and she was attached to Marrec. And from what she understood, she’d be busy the next couple of weeks from dawn to dusk learning her new craft of fighting.

  Marrec kissed her cheek. She jerked.

  “You tightened up. You will learn to fight well and easily. We’ll be a Pair team, probably with you as the Shield—protecting me and Dark Lance—and I as the Sword. Don’t worry.”

  “I’m going into battle against those monsters and I shouldn’t worry?”

  He shrugged, one corner of his mouth quirked. “Don’t worry about the training, and don’t ever worry about a battle until you’re flying to it.”

  “Good advice.”

  He dipped his head, then angled his body and gestured to the Landing Field. They were surrounded by volarans again. “I don’t know all of these, but I’d be glad to introduce you to those I do, and speak to those I don’t with you.”

  She considered him. “You have a telepathic link with Dark Lance.”

  “Ayes.”

  “But that is rare?”

  His face went blank. “About ten of us in the Chevalier and Marshall ranks who usually work from the Castle can communicate with our volarans. Another five can receive impressions.”

  “So that’s about ten percent?”

  He inclined his head.

  She frowned. “We’ll have to see what we can do to bring that number up.”

  He laughed. “Good, take charge.”

  Her neck heated. She shrugged. “There must be a way to teach others.”

  “You don’t think it’s a natural gift?” he asked, moving to the end of a row of volarans where Thunder stood, Dark Lance next to him. Calli understood that the winged horses had ordered themselves by status in the Castle herd.

  “A natural gift,” she repeated, considering. “Probably. You hear better than someone who only gains impressions, but still…” She wasn’t at all sure about this magic stuff. “Most of the Chevaliers and all of the Marshalls have those streaks denoting Power.” Silver for the young, golden for the old. She reached up and touched his right temple. “Everyone hears Songs.” Which was damn new to her.

  “And you see auras…and through my bloodbond with you, I have learned to see them, too. Perhaps you’re right.”

  “In any event, we can teach the people to be more sensitive to hors—volarans. To speak equine with body language…and…and…by projecting feelings and wishes.”

  Marrec nodded. “That could work.” He rubbed Thunder. Salutations, Thunder.

  Salutations, Marrec. Salutations, Calli. It was feelings and images. Marrec was a triangle-shaped stick figure of a man, his broad shoulders emphasized because the volarans—all the volarans—saw him as someone excellent at bearing burdens and responsibilities. She was a little surprised and offended to find her own image as that of a dandelion gone to seed.

  But you sparkle, the dandelion fluff is made up of magical Power, Marrec said, and that, too, was images and feeling and Song with a bit of language. And you change colors.

  She smiled at him, stroked Thunder’s forehead, and said, “We’ll see how they feel about me after I start lessons between volaran and flyer. Humans aren’t the only ones who need to learn partnership and respect.”

  They moved down the rows, from Dark Lance to Alexa’s mount, then Bastien’s, then Thealia’s. Each volaran greeted them, flicking ears at Marrec, dipping a head to Calli and letting them both know how the flying horse wanted to be stroked—a finger trace around itching wing feathers here, a hard rub along the neck—and as Calli touched them, she learned.

  18

  She received impressions of battle, how the volaran stretched its wings, to fly high and away from a dreeth, how it plummeted to kill a slayer. How well its human partner insulated its mind from panic, urged it onward to fight, turned its fear to determination to kill the invaders, protect the herds. After she reached the end of the first row, her mind was reeling and she leaned heavily on Marrec.

  “Those who have been introduced to Calli, please leave Landing Field.” He projected his voice and Calli heard a bunch of her new feathered friends reluctantly clopping away, sending mental goodbyes as they returned to their stables or took off to fly and play with others.

  “My God,” she said weakly in English, and the words changed and resonated in her mind as “By the Song.” She rubbed her temples.

  “There aren’t many more here right now. Do you want to finish or wait until later?” Marrec asked.

  The press of volaran expectation washed over her. She straightened and shook her head, breathed in the warm summer air, glanced at the remaining ten volarans. “I can do it.” Their ears flicked and heads lifted in support and pleasure.

  She walked slowly with Marrec to the beginning of the next line. He said, “Most of the rest are young and haven’t been much in battle.”

  Calli blinked and realized that the grouping of the herd had been about the status of the person, the age of the volaran, how often it had been in battle and how well it communicated with its flyer. Everything about how it fit in the herd.

  Marrec nodded. “If you hadn’t Paired with me, Dark Lance would have been midway down the first row. Neither I nor Dark Lance had much status before you, and he’s not considered beautiful by the volarans.” Marrec smiled ironically. “But we’ve been in plenty of battles and work well together.”

  “Huh,” Calli said. “But Alexa’s volaran was right after Dark Lance and she doesn’t even ride it.”

  “Bright Cloud is a very impressive stallion to the rest of the herd. He was wild until a few months ago. Bastien has trained him since and ridden him often, and he sometimes flies Alexa and Bastien into battle. He has a good relationship with Bastien and would communicate better with Alexa except she’s afraid of falling off him again.”

  “Oh.” Calli grimaced. “I’ll definitely work with her.”

  The corners of his mouth turned up slightly. “She has a hard head, Bastien has trouble making her listen.”

  Calli narrowed her eyes, glanced at the keep where Alexa was. “She’ll learn from me.”

  Now Marrec’s smile widened. “I have no doubt of that.”

  They spent the rest of the day becoming familiar with the remaining volarans and training her horses, in an odd way. Calli spoke to the Castle stable hands, figured out which two were the most flexible and began to teach, with words and telepathy and Power.

  Finally, as the evening turned into night, they bathed again in preparation for the next ritual. By this time, they were easy with each other. Calli didn’t think she’d ever be shy around him again. She donned her old jeans and another sleeveless shirt that buttoned at the shoulder and along the side. Marrec had such a shirt, too, and new black leather trousers and tunic emblazoned with their heraldry. Just the sight of him made her insides mushy.

  Compared to the Choosing and Bonding ritual, the Unbinding ceremony was almost private…the inner circle of the older Marshalls, Alexa and Bastien, the representatives of the other segments of society: Lady Hallard of the Chevaliers, Sevair Masif for the Cities and Towns, Marian and Jaquar for the Circlets and Luthan Vauxveau for the Singer.

  The ritual took place in a pentacle in the Great Temple, the huge round area where Calli was originally Summoned. The place Sang of a thousand Songs, imbued in the walls and ceiling and floor, quivering just under or over hearing, vibrating against her skin.

  Calli and Marrec stood in a star traced on the floor, surrounded by a linked circle of the witnesses. It sure felt like a wedding to her. She smiled, looked up and met his eyes.

  They were fierce and she heard his mental chant of Mine. My woman. Mine to keep. Mine to…love.

  As soon as the bindings were dissolved, the images, the incredibly intricate connection stopped. They both took a step apart. Dizzine
ss had Calli’s world tipping. She tottered. Marrec grasped her shoulders. He took her hand, and their Song escalated between them.

  The Song of the Chevalier Exotique Pair. She blinked. Her left arm felt weightless, free.

  All of her felt incredibly free. She was her own self again…with additions, maybe, but her own self in her own head, no one watching. A sigh whooshed from her.

  Eyes narrowed, Marrec said. “I thought we’d fly our volarans together to our land. Use distance magic to get there and back, but I don’t think—”

  “Dark Lance can carry us both. We can help him with the distance magic.” She touched Marrec’s cheek. “I don’t know of anything that would please me more.”

  His gaze slid down her and she sensed he was thinking about sex, but he nodded. “Yes.” Dark Lance, we will fly to our new home. Prepare.

  Calli chuckled, shook her head, then instead of Equine, she sent pure feeling to the volaran. Love. Anticipation of the ride to their land. Assurance that all three of them would work as a unit.

  I want to go, too! Thunder sent a visual of himself accompanying them, flying without a rider.

  “Ahem.” Alexa cleared her throat.

  “Yes?” Marrec asked.

  “I understand that you’ll be flying to your new estate.” Alexa gestured to a young woman, her assistant. “Perhaps Marwey would like to ride Thunder and survey the situation. With her help, you might be able to hire household staff, maybe even some folks tonight. I know there’s a village on your land.”

  Calli hadn’t known. There must be papers or a Lorebook or something. Another thing for her to read.

  Marrec arched a brow at Marwey. “What’s the price?”

  Well, that was blunt enough. Calli looked around to see if anyone was dismayed at this conversation taking place in the house of G—of the Song. The witnesses observed with interest and Thealia was walking toward a table where a wooden chest lay.

  Marwey said, “I missed the last Chevalier training class, but Calli will be starting training by herself with the rest of you tomorrow. I’d like to train with you. My Pairling, Pascal, has already won his Chevalier reins.” She lifted her chin. “We want to be Marshalls someday, but I must be a Chevalier first.”

  “You agree?” Marrec asked Alexa.

  She sighed. “Yes. I’d rather keep Marwey safe here at the Castle, but she and Pascal are adamant in their wishes to become Marshalls. Marwey has ‘called’ a volaran from the wild herd who has agreed to partner with her.”

  Calli eyed the young woman, surely in her late teens. “How long have you flown with your volaran?”

  A tinge of red appeared on Marwey’s cheeks. “Not long, a couple of weeks before all the volarans left. Once since they came back.”

  Nodding, Calli said, “Good. Perhaps you’d let me see how you work with your volaran and if I might be able to improve your partnership.”

  Marwey grinned. “Ayes! But I can speak to the volarans. I have strong mind-merge Power.”

  “Even better,” Calli said.

  Thealia walked up to them, accompanied by a large man carrying a heavy chest. She gestured to the box. “The taxes from your estate for the last thirteen years since the previous owner died. Also, your bonus for being Summoned.”

  Nice.

  “Steadier?” Marrec asked.

  Calli nodded. He slid his hands down her arms, squeezed her hands, then dropped his own, eyeing the chest with a glinting gaze. “I’ll take that, pull out enough to pay…our people…up front for a couple of months—”

  “Some for getting the house ready, too,” Marwey said. “It’s been deserted.”

  Marrec nodded. “Then I’ll put it in Horseshoe Hall’s vault.”

  “You don’t need to do that,” Marwey said. “I looked around your rooms—I have experience serving an Exotique—and saw a lock-cache.”

  “Good,” Marrec said. He brushed a kiss on Calli’s mouth. “Let’s get going, night will fall soon enough.” He strode to the door and Calli watched him. His manner had changed since she’d seen him enter the hall where she’d stood behind the Choosing table. Then his lope had been easy, but diffident. Now he was a man in charge. He’d changed, too.

  Thealia handed Calli the rolled long strips of linen that had been their bonds. “You might want to keep these in a safe place, too. They sing with Power.”

  Calli nodded and tucked them into a pouch she carried. She’d like a little money, too. Still, there should be more courtesy. She scanned the faces of the remaining people and bowed. “Thank you for coming.”

  There was a round of returned bows, curtseys, nods. “May the Song fly with you always,” someone said.

  “And you,” she replied, then spun and hurried out the door. Marrec and Marwey were already nearly beyond the keep. “Marrec!”

  He stopped.

  Calli ran to them, delighted she could do so, that she felt totally healed. When she reached them she wasn’t even breathing hard. “When you divvy up that zhiv, keep some out for yourself and me, will you?” She handed him her pouch. “And put what’s in here in the lock-cache, too.”

  His eyebrows went up as he weighed the little bag in his hand, felt the Power of the bonds with their blood upon them. “Ayes.” Again he kissed her, this time her cheek, then started off once more at a rapid pace. Smiling, she turned to the door of the keep and wound through it to the door to the maze, then through the hedges and to Landing Field, satisfaction filling her. She knew enough to walk around on her own!

  Sweet.

  Thunder and Dark Lance awaited her, saddled and bridled. She frowned, wondered how soon the new tack would be delivered. The sooner, the better. Too bad she didn’t know how to call down to the shop. Send a messenger? Use a crystal ball? Huh. More stuff she needed to learn.

  But she grinned as she reached the volarans. She couldn’t wait to learn.

  They came out of the Distance Magic bubble with a little pop. Calli glanced over to see Marwey on Thunder pacing them. She and the girl exchanged grins.

  Marwey said something, her words vanished with the wind. She frowned, tapped her mouth, then said something again. This time the words came clear.

  “I spent time reading up on your estate. It is well able to provide for a large family.” She sighed as if that was one of her long-term goals, too. “Your land is surrounded by other well-tended and productive estates. With the zhiv you have, your people will be able to buy whatever you need from your neighbors.”

  “Good,” Marrec shouted.

  Calli nodded. Marrec, you don’t know how to do that thing she did?

  No. He hesitated. I have become stronger in my Power since you arrived. Stronger still since we bonded. There are many spells we will have to learn together.

  It will be fun.

  I hope so.

  As they circled down, a bell tower began to ring. “The announcement of our arrival,” Marrec said in her ear. To Calli’s complete surprise, a brand-new banner waved from the pole on the tower.

  “The Marshalls gifted it to us, I think,” Marrec said. “Sent it here by special messenger this morning to announce that the estate had been reassigned—and to the Chevalier Exotique. I’d imagine anyone within earshot of the bells who can get here fast will meet us.”

  Calli cleared her throat. “Our ranch had about four hands. Not many people. I watched my dad, of course—”

  “His style won’t be ours.”

  “No. And there were other ranchers, folks I admired, that I learned some from. I hope.”

  “We’ll do it together.” His statement was almost a question.

  They’d have to learn how to work in harness, for sure. “Yes.”

  As soon as they landed and turned toward the house, Calli’s breath caught. It had looked a lot smaller from the air, but it was a full three-story mansion made of gray stone, with columns. Behind it, peaks rose in rugged grandeur.

  “Ours?” she croaked.

  Marrec wrapped an arm around her wai
st. “Ours,” he said reverently.

  She glanced up at him, saw moistness in his eyes.

  “The house is everything I’ve ever dreamed of,” he murmured. Glancing down, he squeezed her and his smile was full. “We’ll make a fine family here.”

  She turned a little to the northwest and range after range of mountains rose in ever-higher rocky waves until they took up half the sky. Again she turned, due north, and more mountains defined the horizon, the spur thickened. To the south were peaks, too. She’d wanted mountains. She’d gotten them.

  “It’s so beautiful.” Her throat closed. This was her land. Not the Rocking Bar T, not ever again, but this place. She didn’t have the ties to it that she’d had to her childhood home, but the tingling beneath her feet, as if she was ready to really plant roots, told her that it could take the place of the land she loved.

  “Beautiful,” Marrec said. He was looking to the east and their own lush valley, the distant roofs of village houses.

  The deep green of rich fields held his gaze.

  “Come along!” Marwey called from the wide porch of the house.

  Marrec frowned, slid his hand down to grasp Calli’s fingers and strode toward the house. At first Calli stretched her legs to keep up with him, then she discreetly tugged his hand and he slowed.

  When they reached the steps leading to the porch, Calli saw about twenty people gathered there. A few were dressed in rich robes that proclaimed them the local VIPs, most wore simple work clothes.

  They all stared at her, focused on her blond hair or blue eyes or pale complexion. Marrec dropped her hand to wrap his arm around her shoulders.

  “Excuse!” a middle-aged woman gasped. Trembling, she bolted from the porch and disappeared. She was followed by an older man who nodded to Marrec but didn’t keep his distaste hidden.