Protector of the Flight

by Robin D. Owens

Calli, Pairling? he sent.

  Marrec? What’s happening? Your Song is so…so different!

  He wanted to ask “different how?” but time was short and the way Jetyer was shaking, Marrec needed to get the bonding done quickly. He cleared the static from his mind, calmed his tone. I have found a son for us. His words rang like destiny between them.

  Her Song dipped, soared, exploded into a thousand shards of tinkling notes, and he knew her eyes had filled with tears. A son? Really?

  Yes.

  Her next sending was tentative, as if she whispered. We should not.

  Dark Lance and the feycoocus agree the boy is ours.

  Boy?

  Jetyer is his name, a bastard orphan of a Lladranan woman and a foreign man.

  The boy flinched. How much was he hearing?

  I cannot reject him, said Marrec.

  Of course not. There was that spinning melody of her soft heart, her staunch loyalty. Her trust in him and his judgment.

  Her need to be loved.

  All harmonized in yearning, in acceptance.

  Again Marrec focused on the boy, knew instinctively that the pale child quivering before him would love Calli.

  Keep your mind with mine as I participate in a surface blood-bond.

  Yes. She, too, was quivering. He sensed her sitting atop their bed, Alexa’s arm steadying her. The Swordmarshall’s Song came, too, excited and happy. Do it! Calli said.

  He returned his awareness to Jetyer. “Do you agree to a surface bloodbond?” asked Marrec.

  Standing tall, Jetyer held out his right wrist, his dominant hand. “I ag-gree!”

  Marrec unrolled the boy’s sleeve until the too-large cuff flopped over Jetyer’s hand, then shoved the cuff up to expose an arm a shade paler than the child’s hand. He met Jetyer’s steady gaze. “Ready?”

  Jetyer nodded.

  Glad the knifepoint was sharp and that the cut would be relatively painless for Jetyer, Marrec nicked the boy’s vein, swiped his own cut over the child’s.

  Memory images flashed before his eyes, Jetyer’s, Calli’s, his own, even one or two of Alexa’s. His gut dipped, steadied, the boy stumbled, Marrec caught him close with one arm circling the child. “Easy,” he said, frowning. The youngster’s eyes had dampened.

  The feycoocus cried out, shot into the sky, disappeared. Dark Lance trumpeted.

  Jetyer continued to lean heavily against Marrec.

  The tavern wench who’d been watching intently bustled forward. “Best get ya both up to your room. Get some good nourishing broth into ya.”

  “Good idea.” Marrec frowned as he picked up the boy, who closed his eyes and went limp in his arms.

  “He was mightly ’fraid of askin’ ya to be his folk,” the woman said. “Don’ think he et much last night nor nuthin’ t’day.”

  Marrec hoped that was the reason for the youngster’s weakness, and not any memories of his own that the child had picked up or any images from Calli’s strange land. They’d have to be careful of a full bloodbond. Something else to consult the medicas about.

  Dark Lance whuffled comfortingly. We should stay.

  Yes, Marrec agreed, minding his step up the steep stairs to the room he’d just vacated.

  Marrec, what is wrong? Calli sounded nervous.

  Overexcitement on our son’s part, I think. He fainted.

  He felt her touch on his mind, steadying him, warming him, then she reached further. You are right. He is healthy.

  We’ll stay here today and tonight. Jaquar and Marian are at our estate.

  Alexa says they know what’s going on.

  Huh. More bonds of friendship. He assured himself that was good.

  I’m coming! Give me exact directions—

  No! Marrec settled the boy on the truckle bed that slid out from under his own. Jetyer is resting. We don’t know how long it will take for him to recover from the small bond. From long-ago experience of a life Marrec had left behind him, Marrec eyed the boy. I’ll probably get some stew down him then he’ll sleep all night.

  Oh. Her tone was stilted. Marrec reached for her Song, felt it tumbling with need—for him or the boy?—disappointment, traces of the previous anticipation. There was a slight emotional distance there, a wary note to her tune, a missing beat in their shared Song. Alexa is joyful, too. We have agreed that I will meet you at home tomorrow morning.

  Did Alexa offer, or did you request leave? he asked.

  Her hesitation answered him, but he already regretted bringing up her need to please.

  I would have requested, but Alexa made the offer when I was still stunned by our small bonding ceremony. I am going to request that Luthan Vauxveau and a Castle medica accompany me. Luthan can perform another bloodbond ceremony in our own village temple.

  Marrec blinked. He’d never have thought of that. Delight and…affection for Calli pulsed through their bond. He bowed his head as if she stood before him. Good thinking, thank you.

  I must make the arrangements now. I will ask Luthan how much time off we all need for the bloodbond and recovery. Then I will inform the Lady Knight Swordmarshall.

  He could imagine Thealia Germaine’s reaction to the Volaran Exotique adopting another child while the rest of the world needed her. Good luck. And thank you for bringing a medica, too.

  I have a feeling that both Luthan and the medica will be curious, as always, in Exotique affairs. Bide well, Pairling.

  And you.

  Midmorning the next day, Marrec stood in the town square, holding Jetyer’s hand. Jaquar stood next to them, holding Diaminta. The boy looked paler than before—both from a scrubbing and renewed anxiety. He’d barely said a word, and once again a fine trembling coursed through his body. Marrec had brushed his mind with a reassuring touch, but it hadn’t helped much to calm Jetyer.

  He’d been fascinated with Diaminta, who had crawled over to him and climbed into his lap upon introduction, with the sure sense of being accepted. Jetyer had encircled the baby with both arms and raised a damp gaze to Marrec. “I will protect her always.” Marrec hadn’t thought that his son had realized he hadn’t stammered. The moment had been precious and had made Marrec’s heart ache that Calli hadn’t been there to share it.

  Diaminta’s emotional hurts were healing well, to the point that she was being spoiled…by the males of the staff. She’d dimpled at Jaquar, but had ignored Marian all morning. Diaminta needed to have more women around her and spend more time with them. Still, it was better this morning for her to be held by a man.

  When Marrec sensed Calli and Thunder nearing, he’d led a procession of most of his staff to the village, carrying a quiet Diaminta and walking hand in hand with Jetyer to the village. He was unsurprised to see that most of the town had turned out, dressed in their best, ringing the square. News traveled fast in villages.

  Now they gasped as Thunder and Calli appeared, flying far ahead of four other volarans. Luthan Vauxveau and a medica—a man—and Alexa and Bastien. Marrec frowned.

  Alexa and Bastien are additional witnesses, Calli said. She waved. Good. Marian and Jaquar are there. You agree that they should be—um—parenties, just in case?

  He’d thought on it and since she felt strongly about this and he couldn’t think of anyone he’d prefer—certainly not Lady Hallard or the folk who raised him, he answered, Ayes.

  Good! She and Thunder descended in a landing more efficiently beautiful than any Marrec had seen. Thunder walked up to Jaquar. Diaminta squealed and patted his neck, tugged on his mane. “Thud! Thud!” The volaran winked at her but didn’t nuzzle. Diaminta pouted.

  Calli dismounted, greeted Marian and Jaquar, and brushed a kiss—and a loving mind-touch—on Diaminta. Their daughter’s face crumpled and Calli circled around to face Marrec and Jetyer. A shock of deep attraction went through Marrec when he saw her fully. She was wearing a dark blue mage-gown that flowed from a split wide-legged skirt to full dress as he watched. Gold embroidery wound around the hem and up the sleeves, showing flying vol
arans. The robe emphasized the blue of her eyes and the gold of her hair. How had he kept himself away from her? Why?

  Jetyer rippled with a shock from beside him, small fingers clamping hard around Marrec’s. The boy was dazzled by Calli, and he needed. He yearned for the soft touch of a mother more than Marrec ever had.

  31

  Calli pressed a smiling kiss on Marrec’s lips and their Songs met and knit and their Pair Song rose and it was sweet, sweet. Damn. He should have had her come to the inn last night, rented the adjoining room for them. He didn’t know if he could last through a long ritual.

  Then her smile widened—he wondered if he looked love struck—and she stepped back, moved in front of Jetyer and knelt until her eyes were level with the child’s.

  “I am Callista Gardpont,” she said, her voice accented. “I will be your mother, if you please.” With a slow gesture, she reached for his head, gleaming brown-red in the sun, stroked his hair. Calm, dear boy, Marrec heard her say, including him and Diaminta in the mind-speak. She sent comfort and approval to Jetyer and he released Marrec’s hand, flung himself at Calli.

  She held his thin body, stroked his back. Tears trickled down her cheeks. Their Song billowed, shadowy visions of uncaring men in both their pasts merged, vanished in the knowing of like to like.

  “Well,” said another voice. “This shouldn’t be difficult.”

  Marrec hadn’t noticed Luthan Vauxveau landing, but the noble Chevalier stood in pristine white flying leathers before them. Marrec wondered what Luthan saw. He’d never known the cool nobleman well, but since the man had become the representative of the Singer, even more depth lingered behind his dark eyes and his streak of silver had widened. Marrec supposed that the Singer had chosen Luthan because he had prophetic moments.

  Luthan gestured to the medica.

  Calli tensed, sheltered the boy. “Shouldn’t we be private—”

  But the medica had already touched Jetyer’s temple, sent a mind probe. The healer frowned. Luthan set a hand on the medica’s shoulder and all of them connected mentally—Marrec and Calli and Diaminta and Jetyer and the medica and Luthan. The medica sucked in a harsh breath, dropped his hand and stepped back, shaking his hands and his head, flicking the Power that had risen and cycled through all of them from his fingertips.

  “Interesting,” Marian commented lightly.

  Marrec blinked, noticing that she was dressed like Calli, in a dress identical except for the embroidered gold lightning bolts. He thought she was considering joining the connection and Jaquar clasped her around the elbow, holding her back.

  Luthan stepped aside. He looked at the medica and spoke coolly. “It is my understanding that when the bloodbond is forged, Jetyer will have the mental and emotional support of the rest of his family in diminishing his stammer.”

  The medica nodded. “That’s my reading of the situation, too. As the boy’s life stabilizes, he will lose his affliction.”

  Calli stiffened.

  “Shh,” Marrec said.

  “Release your soon-to-be-mother and we will proceed with the ritual,” Luthan said.

  “Oh, good,” Marian said, rubbing her hands. Jaquar smiled and slipped his free arm around her waist.

  Jetyer snuffled and let go of Calli. Marrec reached into a pocket and handed his son a fine linen handkerchief. The boy fingered the quality of it for a moment, then blew his nose and smiled up at Marrec with a brilliance that shot straight through him.

  “That Temple is far too small for all of us.” Luthan stood with hands on his hips, surveying the village, the manor staff, the resplendent Circlets and Marshalls, and their family.

  We witness, too! Thunder and Dark Lance and the other volarans whinnied in unison. Marrec hadn’t seen Dark Lance arrive.

  Luthan cocked his head. He didn’t speak mental Equine. An excellent, patient Chevalier and fierce fighter, but not one blessed with the talent to hear the winged horses.

  “The volarans insist on witnessing the ceremony,” Marrec said.

  Nodding, Luthan said, “Then I think we can do this outside, here. It will please the Song and Amee equally. We will need the traveling altar from the Temple.” A man hurried away to fetch it and Luthan gestured Marrec and Calli and the others to move to the center of the square, the volarans to go to the edge.

  “I will continue to hold Diaminta since I will be her and Jetyer’s parentie,” Jaquar said smugly.

  Marian sniffed. “I’ll be part of the ritual, too.”

  Luthan said, “Best form a bond between you and the children, too.”

  The volarans called.

  “They want to participate in the ritual,” Marrec said.

  “No,” said Luthan. “Humans only in the pentacle.”

  The townsman returned with the light traveling altar and implements and set it in the middle of the square where a faint pentagram showed as a trampling of the grass.

  A horrible screeching arose. Luthan’s shoulders tensed. Jaquar and Marian smiled.

  “It only needed this to complicate the ritual further,” Luthan muttered.

  Two peacocks, feathers fully spread, pranced toward them.

  “The feycoocus.” Luthan sighed.

  All around the square people nudged each other, commented excitedly.

  Marian clapped her hands and a rumble of thunder reverberated around the square. Everyone fell silent.

  “Everyone is welcome to witness the Gardponts adopt their new son, and the designation of the Circlets as parenties.” Luthan projected his voice. “Family and parenties, enter the pentagram with me. Volarans, stand outside the circle at even intervals. Townspeople and well-wishers, circle around and link hands.”

  The ritual was slow and stately. Luthan spoke in a loud, clear voice so all could hear. The binding this time was more complex but fully as potent as the one when they’d adopted Diaminta in the Castle’s Great Temple. Though they didn’t have the impressive resonance of Power used and stored, the different atmosphere of tree-dappled light, blue sky and land underfoot that had been the gathering place of simple people for ages touched Marrec more.

  Baby Diaminta and Jetyer were bound first, and Jaquar and Marian formally linked to the family as parenties to the children with a few drops of blood. Even that small amount of Circlet blood made Marrec dizzy and Calli helped him and Diaminta and Jetyer stay conscious. Then came the bloodbonding—the cutting and binding of arms, Jetyer between Calli and Marrec himself. Luthan had judged that they should all be bound for only four hours and Marrec was grateful.

  They walked from the green a family. Then there was a disturbance among the volarans.

  One comes, Dark Lance said mentally. A mount for the children. He snorted and Marrec got the impression that he didn’t think much of the volaran.

  The other winged horses parted to show a bluish-gray mare, one of the smallest Marrec had seen. The volarans were getting smaller, seemed to be breeding for daintiness. Not too good for big Chevaliers. He’d mention the notion to Calli, see if she could encourage the herds to breed for larger mounts.

  Like me, said Dark Lance.

  Jetyer let out a breath, then his eyes focused on the bluish-gray mare. “Sh-she’s b-b-beautif-ful.”

  She was, in the manner that volarans prized, but she was too small for anyone to ride but a youngster—or an equally small woman like Alexa.

  I am Sapphire.

  Sapphire, said Jetyer, easy in Equine.

  Calli slanted Marrec a glance. “Think we can put Jetyer on for a try?” She didn’t wait for him to answer, but spoke Equine with her body, and reassured the little winged horse as she moved behind the mare.

  The volaran stood still, turned her neck to look at them. Marrec thought he was the only one of them to realize that Calli had complete control of the winged steed’s mind. The mare could not kick. He and Calli lifted Jetyer to sit bareback.

  Jetyer shouted in joy.

  A flood of memories tangled between them—Calli on her first hors
e, Marrec his volaran. Calli and Thunder, Marrec and Dark Lance.

  “Me and Sapphire!” cried Jetyer.

  “She’s so intelligent and quick,” Calli said, beaming as Jetyer leaned forward and stroked the mare’s neck.

  I am intelligent and quick, Dark Lance said.

  Not as quick as this one, Marrec said. “Beautiful lady,” he said aloud.

  Yes, Sapphire replied in Equine, lifting her head and tilting her ears. I flew in for the boy.

  “Me, me!” screamed Diaminta, waving little fists.

  “Jetyer?” asked Calli.

  “She can sit ahead of me.”

  “Good boy,” Marrec said.

  “That’s kind of you,” Calli said.

  Jaquar placed Diaminta on the volaran and stepped away. He shook his head. “Truly, the Volaran Exotique.”

  They let the children sit a while on Sapphire’s back, then Jaquar took Diaminta, and Marrec and Jetyer and Calli walked slowly back to the manor. The blood traveling through them caused their minds to daze, as usual.

  Sometimes the boy’s blood and memories were more familiar than Calli’s, sometimes the events Marrec had shared with Calli were easier to accept and understand than Jetyer’s ideas.

  Calli’s and Jetyer’s Songs harmonized amazingly. So well that Marrec was almost jealous of his new son.

  Once again emotionally bound with Calli, Marrec understood she’d been hurt by his withdrawal, yet his logical side continued to insist that what he was doing was right, for the best of them all. It was true that Calli still had a great need to be loved and to please others, but he saw her strong determination that their child—children—not be forced into the Chevalier life that was expected of both her and Marrec.

  Once they reached the manor, they lay on three side-by-side pallets in one of the parlors. Diaminta’s crib was close so that she’d experience their binding Song. The room didn’t get direct sunlight and was cool and shady, and Marrec’s mind drifted away on music until voices rang around him and the cloth bonds of he and his Pairling and his new son were cut away.

  They all embraced—with Diaminta—and then spent the evening in celebration. Jetyer kept close to Calli, and Marrec got the idea that he was spilling all his hopes and dreams—in only slightly stuttering language.