Guarding the Goddess

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by Evangeline Anderson


  “Hang on, Tutti!” she shouted, or started to shout. But before she got more than the first word out, she heard the sound of the rock thudding hard over her head and thought,

  This is it, I’m going to die!

  Twenty-Six

  Only somehow, she didn’t die. Though she heard the rock strike, it didn’t touch her.

  Daring to look up, she saw a shimmering, incandescent material somehow spreading like a canopy just over her head. She could see through it—see that it was supporting a huge rock which would have brained her and probably smashed her if the strange shield hadn’t suddenly leapt into the way.

  Another load of rocks fell and she heard a noise—something between a grunt of effort and a shout of pain—in her ear. Looking back, she saw that Ty was kneeling behind her—crouching over her, in fact, the same way she was crouched over Tutti.

  The big Kindred’s muscular arm was extended over their heads and the shimmering shield that was protecting her was somehow coming from the top of his forearm, Ellina thought. The gods only knew how much weight he was supporting on that one arm but he kept it steady and still, not allowing the load of rocks and rubble to crush her.

  “Ty?” she gasped, wondering how he’d gotten around to save her so fast. “Are you all right?”

  “I am if you are, little one,” he growled, looking at her anxiously. “Are you injured?”

  “I…I don’t think so,” Ellina said. The rumbling and roaring above seemed to have stopped, at least for now. Maybe the cave-in was finally over.

  “I think it might be over,” Ty said, echoing her thoughts. “I pray to the Goddess it is, anyway—don’t know how much longer I can hold this lot up.”

  His face was a sneer of effort and he gave a jerky nod at the load of rocks and rubble on the glimmering, transparent shield.

  “Dump them off,” Ellina told him. “Tutti and I will be all right.” The little girl was still clutched in her arms. Indeed, she seemed frozen against Ellina’s ribcage, not saying a word though Ellina could hear her rapid, panting breath and feel her frantic heartbeat, so close were they pressed together.

  “You’d better get out from under first—just in case,” Ty told her. “Just be careful—as soon as I dump the rocks and stand, I’ll be at your side to guard you.”

  “All right.” Carefully, Ellina edged out from under the shelter of the shield. She looked around, but there didn’t seem to be any more assassin acrobats or bomb-throwing fools. The guards were standing over several dead bodies and the wooden platform was riddled with holes but somehow it had withstood the barrage of rocks and rubble.

  Well built, Ellina thought distractedly. I shall have to give a royal commendation to the master builder who designed it. Right after I find out who let the troupe of assassins into the very middle of the Grand Promenade, anyway.

  She heard an effortful grunt and then the sound of a huge pile of rocks sliding onto the ground. The weight of them shook the holey platform a bit but it held. And then Ty was right beside her, the glimmering shield still extended from his forearm. Glancing at it, Ellina frowned. She’d thought that it was part of his armor but somehow it seemed to be coming directly from his flesh—how was that possible?

  “It’s over—I don’t see any more of them and the ceiling seems to have stabilized,” Ty said in her ear, breaking her concentration.

  Ellina looked up and saw he was right. Though there was a jagged hole in the roof of the Grand Promenade which was letting in a thin shaft of brilliant sunshine, no more rocks were falling and none—as far as she could see—were loose.

  “Thank Thufar,” she whispered shakily, her heart pounding. She wished she could let herself to feel weak in the knees now that the assassins were dead and the cave-in was over, but she was still out in public and she knew she couldn’t allow herself that luxury yet.

  Ty’s next words confirmed her thoughts.

  “Don’t thank Thufar quite yet,” he growled in her ear. “Look at the crowd below—they’re panicking, Ellina. Someone must calm them.”

  Ellina looked down to where he was pointing. Indeed, the common people were still pushing and shoving behind the barricades, trying to get away. She didn’t like to think how many would be trampled if someone didn’t make them stop—and that someone had to be her, she realized.

  Tutti was still clinging to her—little arms around Ellina’s neck and legs wrapped round her waist like a climbing vine—and didn’t show any signs of letting go. So Ellina took the little girl with her.

  Stepping forward, she found herself directly under the ray of brilliant light coming from above. Raising her voice to be heard over the tumult below, she shouted, “My people! MY PEOPLE!”

  Along with deportment and public elocution, Grandmamma had made her take voice projection lessons from an early age and now Ellina was glad of it. Using the natural acoustics of the stone around her, she was able to make herself heard, even over the near-riot below. She saw faces turn up to hers and then fingers were pointing and a whisper went up.

  “The Potentate…listen to the Potentate!”

  “My People,” Ellina said again. “Be calm! The danger is past!”

  She hoped this was true, even as she said it.

  Just watch another big boulder fall down on my head and squish me to jelly like it did to Hennessy, she thought grimly. But nothing fell and after a breathless moment, it seemed nothing would. And moreover, it seemed that the people believed her. For there was no more scuffling and shouting—instead they were all looking up at her, as though mesmerized by the sound of her voice. So Ellina kept talking.

  “We have suffered a frightful attack, but it is over now and all is well,” she continued. She wished she could see their faces more clearly but the sunlight beating down on her from above was very bright—it felt like a golden weight upon her shoulders and she was vaguely aware that it was making the golden dust her stylist had put all over her skin sparkle and gleam.

  “We must leave in an orderly fashion,” Ellina told the people. “We must not hurt or trample anyone. You must help the old and the frail and the young among you to safety. You must be brave and not run or panic—I know you can do this, for you are my people. I have faith in your courage.”

  There were murmurs from below and the people started to disperse—just as she had asked—in an orderly way.

  But just at that moment someone broke through the barricade and came towards the steps of the platform, shouting wildly.

  Twenty-Seven

  Ty stepped in front of her at once, prepared to kill anyone who tried anything—anything at all. He was just about to raise his spare blaster when Ellina put one small hand on his arm to stop him.

  “Stop,” she murmured in his ear. And then to the guards who had halfway descended the steps she shouted, “No, it’s all right. Let her come. Let her come!”

  It was the little girl’s grandmother, Ty saw, as the anxious old woman drew near. Her eyes were wild and she was panting and breathless but still she came, charging up the steps, her face filled with fear.

  “Tutti! Tutti!” she cried, reaching for her. “Oh my Tutti, I thought you were lost and gone!”

  “Grandmum!” The little girl at last unwound her arms from around Ellina’s neck and reached for her grandmother. The old woman took her gratefully and held her close, covering her face with kisses.

  “Thufar bless Your Highness!” she said at last, looking up at Ellina with shining eyes. “I left the youngest one at home today with her grandpa but Tutti here was determined to bring you those yalla blossoms. And when I saw all the explosions and the cave-in happened, I thought she’d be trampled or killed. But you saved her—you risked your own life to save my granddaughter! Bless, you, Your Majesty! Truly you are the Goddess in the Flesh!”

  She bent in a low bow, still holding Tutti to her, but her words had carried into the breathless hush that had fallen over the crowd as they watched the little scene playing out before them.

 
Indeed, Ellina did look like a goddess, Ty thought, staring at her. She was standing under a shaft of sunlight which poured down on her like melted honey from the broken ceiling above. The warm light set the gold dust on her hair and skin to sparkling and highlighted the glory of her deep, lustrous Sacred Blue skin tones. She looked nothing less than divine and her people didn’t fail to notice it.

  “The Goddess in the Flesh,” someone in the front row behind the barriers repeated and then others took it up. “The Goddess in the Flesh…The Goddess in the Flesh!”

  “My people,” Ellina cried, raising her arms to them for silence. “Thank you for your praise, but I do not deserve it all. My Kindred guard, Commander Ty’rial, saved both me and little Tutti here from certain death just now. Without him, I would not be standing before you.”

  She pointed at Ty who stepped forward unwillingly. He appreciated that Ellina didn’t want all the credit for herself, but he much preferred to stay in the background. It was better to be unnoticed than to draw a lot of unwanted attention, in his opinion. But since Ellina had brought him into this, he saw no option but to acknowledge her acknowledgement.

  He nodded briefly and raised one arm, then started to step back again. But before he could, Lor, Ellina’s chewchie, jumped lightly from her shoulder onto his. The fluffy little creature scampered up to the top of Ty’s head and sat up alertly, looking at the crowd.

  This seemed to excite the Chorkay people and Ty heard several of them saying, “Look—the Potentate’s own chewchie has chosen him!” And… “Do you see? The Sacred Blue chewchie shows his respect and approval!”

  Someone started a new chant and soon it was growing.

  “Lan’Glaver!” they murmured and many of them were pointing at him now, Ty saw. “Lan’Glaver…Lan’Glaver…”

  He frowned—what did it mean? Though he had taken care to study the Chorkay language thoroughly before taking on this mission, this word was unfamiliar to him. Yet the people kept chanting it.

  “Lan’Glaver! LAN’GLAVER!”

  The unfamiliar word rose from a whisper to a shout and then all the Chorkay were making signs with their hands—raising four fingers into the air and swirling them in a slow, figure-eight gesture.

  “What are they saying?” he asked, frowning, to Ellina. “What are they doing?”

  “It’s a gesture of respect and thanks,” she answered, as she waved back at them, repeating the gesture herself.

  “But that word—‘Lan’Glaver,’. What does it mean? What are they calling me?” he demanded.

  “Goddess-savior,” Ellina answered. “Or Goddess-protector, depending on how you want to translate it from Old Chorkay. It’s—”

  “It’s nothing but a meaningless title from a foolish old legend,” a new voice said beside him.

  Looking down, Ty saw that the High Priest had climbed the stairs as well. Now he stood beside them, huffing and puffing with the effort of the ascent, a grim frown on his face.

  “Come on!” he exclaimed, glaring at Ty. “What are you about, keeping the Potentate out in the open so long? There’s just been an attack! We need to get her safe under cover somewhere.”

  Ty wanted to point out that Lord Kikbax hadn’t been so set on keeping Ellina under cover earlier, when he insisted that she march in this damned parade surrounded by those idiotic noblemen who had nearly fouled everything up during the fighting. But he had to grudgingly admit that the High Priest was right on this point at least. Just because one attack had been repelled didn’t mean another couldn’t happen.

  Clearly there was someone out there who very badly wanted Ellina dead—it was time to get her to safety where he could protect her.

  Twenty-Eight

  The shaking didn’t start until hours after the attack was over. Not until after Ellina had sat with Ty and the High Priest while everyone involved in planning the Grand Promenade was interviewed and interrogated.

  But no one seemed to know who had invited the traveling troupe of entertainers—a troupe which had only been at Court a day or two—to join the parade. The Grand Seneschal thought it had been the Music Marshall’s idea. But the Music Marshall said the Entertainment Director was at fault. He, in turn, blamed the Special Events Coordinator and round and round it went until Ty roared,

  “Stop! Does no one in this benighted Court have any damn idea of who these assassins were or how they came here or who sent them?”

  It seemed that no one did. And since all the assassins had been killed by the end of the attack—(the High Priest had killed one himself, the fool who had thrown the bombs in the first place)—there was no one to question and demand answers from.

  “Sloppy,” Ty growled in obvious disgust. “Really damn sloppy! Your carelessness nearly got your Potentate killed today!” he roared at the assembled dignitaries, who flinched back from his red-eyed rage. “There will be no more public appearances unless I have a detailed plan of the proceedings first as well as a checklist of everyone, everyone involved! Do I make myself clear?”

  “I beg your pardon, Commander Ty’rial,” the High Priest huffed, clearly insulted by the big Kindred’s tone. “But don’t you think you’re getting above your station? You’re only a simple bodyguard and yet you’re acting like the Potentate’s consort, ordering everyone around as you are, for Thufar’s sake.”

  “I’ll act any way I have to in order to keep my Lady safe,” Ty growled, glaring down at him until Lord Kikbax dropped his eyes resentfully. “I have sworn an oath to keep the Potentate safe or die trying and I’ll be damned if I break it. Ellina will be staying in her royal apartments until it’s safe for her to come out again.”

  There was a collective gasp in the room and Ellina knew why—Ty had slipped and used her first name which, as an off-worlder, he ought not even to know, let alone use so familiarly.

  “I agree with Ty—I mean, Commander Ty’rial,” she said quickly, speaking up to cover his error. “I find myself extremely reluctant to go out again until those who were responsible for today’s attack are captured. And now, I am tired,” she went on, before anyone could start to argue. “It has been a dreadfully long day and I wish to go to bed. Good night, gentlemen.”

  She had risen on shaky legs and swayed for a moment. Though she tried to be strong, she was suddenly more weary than she could ever remember being in her life.

  Ty was there at once, offering his arm. Ellina took it gratefully, murmuring her thanks, and he led her away—out of the conference room—and back to her apartments.

  “Are you all right?” he’d asked, once he got her seated before the fire—which he built up to a roaring blaze to counteract the chill in the air.

  Ellina nodded jerkily. She wasn’t certain if she was all right or not but the habit of showing a calm face, even in crisis—or the aftermath of a crisis—was very strong.

  Ty looked at her, frowning.

  “What you need is a stiff drink,” he said at last. “I’ll go get one.”

  He left and Ellina stared into the fire, the flickering flames leaping high in the grate. Though she tried not to let them, the events of the Grand Promenade were playing out in her mind’s eye, over and over again.

  The bomb-throwing fool…the assassin acrobats springing onto the stage with deadly intent…the screaming, scrambling nobles all shoving and jostling and trying to get away…the huge rock that had squished Hennessy to jelly…

  She didn’t want to think about it but Ellina somehow couldn’t forget the way his face had turned to pulp as the giant rock smashed down on him. It had happened so fast she shouldn’t have been able to see such vivid details but somehow she had—or else her brain was making her think she had—and she couldn’t get it out of her head…

  And that was when the shaking started.

  I could have been killed tonight…I almost was killed tonight. Someone wants me dead. And if they want it badly enough, sooner or later they’ll get it—they’ll kill me. Just like they killed Mumma and Papa…

  She wasn�
��t aware how violently she was shuddering until Ty was suddenly leaning over her, a worried look on his face.

  “Little one?” he asked, frowning as he put warm, reassuring hands on her shaking shoulders. “Little one, are you all right?”

  “N-no,” Ellina managed to get out, telling the truth at last. “No, Ty. They want me dead. They want me dead!”

  And she burst into tears.

  “Hush, little one. I won’t let them. I’ll keep you safe, no matter what. I swear it.”

  He gathered her into his arms and held her tight as though she was a distraught child he was trying to calm. Ellina pressed her face to his broad chest and breathed him in—breathed in the warm, wild, spicy scent that somehow smelled like safety and home—and let the tears come.

  After what seemed like a long time they tapered off and she was able to swipe her sleeve across her face—not that it did much good. She was still wearing the horribly heavy and constricting parade dress and the fabric was so stiff with jewels and elaborate embroidery there was hardly a square inch of regular fabric to wipe her face on. The result was that she simply smeared her make-up, leaving a mess on the delicate sleeve that she was certain the Head Dress Maker would despair of ever getting out.

  “All cried out now?” Ty asked, still cradling her to him.

  Ellina nodded, finding no words inside to answer.

  “Drink this then.” He gave her a sip of something that was bitter and sweet and very strong. Though Ellina didn’t usually drink, it slid down smoothly and seemed to warm her up from within, which was nice. Despite the heavy dress and the hot fire, she felt cold inside…so cold.

  “I’m freezing,” she managed to say, looking up at him. “I can’t…can’t seem to get warm. And this awful dress—I can’t breathe.”

  He looked at her with concern.

  “You’re going into shock—I thought you might after all the craziness was over. Which is why I drew you a hot bath when I went to pour your drink. It should be all ready to go now. Come on.”

 

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