Pixilated

by Jane Atchley

  Kayseri held her tattered gown in place covering her breasts. Her first thought upon seeing Kree was not one of relief, but of how wrong she had been. The purple rage and searing white-hot fury she’d seen in the temple had nothing to do with Kree's battle rage. Kree was a void, a terrible dangerous emptiness. No colorful aura surrounded him. No emotion moved in his eyes. Cold certain death stared out of their glacial green depths.

  Bravado firmly in place, Colt did not seem to notice. "You’ve got me champion, and I’ve got your little tart." He yanked Kayseri’s head back. The knife caught the little sun's first soft rays. "The question is how bad do you want her?"

  Kree set his crossbow to his shoulder and tilted his head very slowly to the right, sighting down the length of the bolt.

  "Take it easy there. Let's talk about this. Could be you’re that good with a crossbow. Could be you’re not. I’m guessin’ not. Do you really want to risk your tart's life?"

  Kree closed one eye.

  Kayseri felt Colt’s tremor of fear. He put just enough pressure on the knife to break her skin. Blood bloomed below her ear. Kree's crossbow thrummed. There was a brief stab of searing pain before Kayseri's world filled with blood and she fell, dragged down under Colt’s weight. The next then she knew strong arms lift her, and someone touched her neck, someone so filled with magic his touch seared her skin. Heat coursed through her veins, and her world went black.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Kree crouched on the polished wood floor outside Rian's bedchamber, knees pulled up to his chest, arms hanging loose over his knees. A swarm of Nhurstari women had swept Katie and Rian away as soon as they returned to the lodge. Day's ago. Hours, he reminded himself. It had only been hours. They had told him he could not stay with Kayseri. They would not have said that if they known how close to madness he tread.

  A pale hollow-eyed Rian appeared in the open doorway. "I’ve called blood to replace what she lost. The healers have repaired the damage, but your little lady needs rest, Kree Fawr. She has been through an ordeal."

  "Has she asked for me?"

  Rian's gaze slid to the right.

  "I’m going in there."

  "But your body needs rest too. Do all humans push themselves as you do?" Rian smiled. "Besides, you'll see her tonight at my banding ceremony. The healers say she'll be recovered by nightfall, and I would be honored if you walked with my companions."

  Rian squatted beside Kree mimicking his posture. "You cannot crouch in the hall any longer, my friend. My ladies will not have it." He leaned conspiratorially close. "They say you hulk outside the door like a gargoyle. Elves have no love for gargoyles, Kree Fawr."

  "Here is the way it is, Rian, I either see Katie now or this gargoyle runs wild through your hunting lodge. Do you really want that to happen?"

  Rian tilted his head very slightly, his amber eyes wide and amused. "You have a flair for drama do you not?" Pushing to his feet, Rian offered the captain his hand. "Perhaps a short visit would do both of you some good. A very short visit."

  The Nhurstari ladies scattered before Kree like frightened sheep before a hungry wolf. Only one old woman had the courage to remain at Kayseri’s bedside, perhaps because Rian remained at Kree’s shoulder. Kree gazed at Kayseri, small and pale, in the grand bed belonging to Rian. His big blunt fingers caressed her cheek. She took a deep shuttering breath and smiled in her sleep.

  The old woman said something in Nhurstari, and Kree's questioning gaze moved to Rian.

  "She says," Rian nodded at Kayseri. "The little one draws strength from your touch. She says I was right to bring you."

  It was about time someone around here showed some sense. Kree bent down, pressed a kiss to Kayseri’s forehead. "Sleep well, sweetheart. I’ll see you later."

  "Come, Kree Fawr." Rian tugged his sleeve. "Let me show you to a room where you can bath and rest. Oh! We’ve found your belongings. My people will clean them for you before tonight’s celebration."

  Kree and Rian had not gone far before Duncan came striding down the wide hallway with the captain’s hired Templemen hard on his heels. "Captain, sir," Duncan said. "May I speak with you a moment?"

  "I live to serve."

  "These gentlemen tell me the mercenary captain appeared to have something against you personally. Did you sense that?"

  "I did, but I’m sure I have never met the man before."

  "Sir, I need you to examine his body, please."

  Please. Not a request, an order. Duncan was giving him an order. It was a day for wonders. "Why?"

  "He bears a rectangular mark, sir, beside his right ear. Could he be Goddess-born?"

  Kree frowned "I’ll come. Give me a minute. Rian—"

  "Of course, Kree Fawr, do what you must. When you’ve finished your business, ask anyone to show you to your room."

  Nhurstari lords did not keep horses, so there were no stables. Kree could not imagine how they traveled. Red Fist had laid the dead beneath the trees, out of sight of the lodge. Duncan led him down the line to the mercenary captain’s body. Squatting down, he turned the dead man’s head to the right.

  "Well?"

  "It's a tattoo. Goddess marks are brands. Not the same thing at all. "

  "But you recognized it, sir. I saw it in your reaction."

  "I think I've seen this design before, but it was a long time ago. I’m not positive." He pulled a knife from his arming harness and cut away the tattoo. "Preserve this for me. We'll need to show it to the Great Ladies. Where are the rest of his men?"

  "Following our standard procedure, Chana took their parole. We returned their weapons and released them. It was not until your Templemen spoke to me that I suspected this man was more than he seemed. I acted without due diligence, sir. I am sorry."

  Kree pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. Fatigue swept him. "You followed the protocol, Shug. Don’t beat yourself up. Get a burial detail out here right away. Tonight’s banding ceremony marks an important alliance between Nhurstari and Thallasi. Princess Sandahl and the Majority Apparent have suffered a great deal to bring it to pass." He toed the mercenary’s body with his boot. "If it all shakes out the way I think it will, it might be an important alliance for us too. Let us not have the smell of decomposition marring the occasion."

  Kree's recovered possessions, his gryphon knives, his saber and bastard sword, three Temple knives, and, blessed the Goddess, his custom-made boots polished to a mirror finish awaited him when he awoke. He found his uniform clean and pressed. The dragon's eye blue coat shocked the eye with its brilliance. He dressed quickly and hurried downstairs following the lilting sound of feminine voices in hopes of finding Kayseri. He had much he needed to say to her starting with I love you.

  Some magic of Rian’s willpower or an army of servants had transformed the great hall from a battlefield into a ballroom. Nhurstari guests had continued to arrive for Rian and Sandahl’s banding throughout the afternoon. Preparations moved forward while Kree slept. Colorful tents had sprouted up under the tall trees like mushrooms, and the lodge swarmed with a host of new servants, cooks, waiters, and musicians. A string quartet had assembled on the landing overlooking a room where mere hours ago, Hueil had witnessed the end of his rebellion. Kree skirted around them bounding down the stairs two at a time.

  Little snippets of conversation drifted to him as he passed through the crowded great hall searching for Kayseri. Rian’s Nhurstari guests had never seen a Thallasi before, and most were curious, eager for a glimpse of their little princess. They regarded the humans huddled together near the door as an exotic treat. Namar's tears, Kree would never find Kayseri among all these shining folk.

  "Kree Fawr!"

  Kree veered off his course and joined the party hailing him.

  "You look so beautiful!" The young elf lord declared.

  Kree inclined his head, unsure of propriety in this company. "Scrubbed, polished, and smelling better, eh..." He paused, eyes narrowing. "Eoin." The elf’s glow of pleasure told him he
had gotten it right.

  "It was very wrong of me to say that. How did you recognize me?"

  Kree winked, flashed Eoin a cocky off-kilter grin, and held up his hand with his thumb and forefinger pressed so close together a hair could not have passed between. "You’re taller. As to the other, I’m not easily offended. Where did all these elves come from?"

  "Oh. All over. This is the most exciting thing to happen since..." Eoin lifted one shoulder in what passed among the Nhurstari for a shrug. "I’m not old enough to remember since when."

  "Rian asked me to walk with his companions. What do companions do exactly?"

  "Nothing really. Our legends say that our banding rite comes down from a time when magic drove our males mad. A female seeking a mate worked an enchantment. In the twin suns' dying rays, she summoned her chosen mate to her side by trapping him within a mighty casting. An ancient, I guess she is sort a priestess in your culture, performed the banding rite. The enchantment well and truly caught the male. The thing is, under the female’s compulsion a male is helpless to all but her call. It falls on his companions to insure his safe journey to her side. Otherwise, he might be slain and replaced by some other male who has seen the female and wants her."

  Kree was amazed. "Really?"

  Eoin blinked bright innocent amber eyes. "I have no idea. It’s a legend. Anyway, Sandahl will summon Rian. The guests will light lamps and go out onto the lawn. They will try to hinder him, but his companions—that's us, will clear his way."

  The captain nodded gravely.

  "It’s all symbolic, Kree Fawr. The only enchantment is sealing the bands. Our ancient still does that."

  "Don’t worry." Kree laughed. "I won't kill anyone."

  Eamon and Garen drifted over to join them.

  "Who is that trooper over there by the door, Kree Fawr?" Eamon asked. "The one with the blazing blue eyes."

  The captain looked in the direction that Eamon pointed not that he needed too. "Aimery Duncan, my first lieutenant."

  Eamon gave a one-shouldered shrug. "He is–"

  "We say genetically blessed around the garrison because anything else will get your bell rung."

  "He is very beautiful, but I was going to say he looks uncomfortable."

  "Ah, well, Wilderkin make him nervous."

  The twins exchanged a glance. "They won't after tonight."

  Kree shook his head. "Don’t hurt him."

  The twins laughed.

  "Look," Eoin said. "Here’s Rian."

  Nhurstari’s Majority Apparent glided toward them draped in his House colors. A long carmine robe heavily embroidered with gold leaves covered him from neck to toe. A crown of braided leaves held his wavy hair off his brow. Rian flashed the robe open revealing nothing underneath but a rough leather loincloth.

  "Kree Fawr." Rian nodded a greeting. "Look at you! You clean up well." His smile took in his little group of companions.

  "Why does everyone sound surprised?" Kree clapped Rian on the shoulder. "You look...nervous."

  "It’s funny. I am as excited as if this were my true wedding night. You cannot imagine what a momentous day this is for my people."

  A ram’s horn sounded outside. The guests trimmed small lamps and moved toward the open doorways. Duncan and the Red Fist shied over to their captain. Rian caught his lower lip between his teeth as the horn trumpeted again.

  "This is it." Rian strode out onto the wide stone step trailed by his chosen companions and Red Fist.

  The sight that greeted them stole Kree’s breath. Hundreds of lamps twinkled like little stars. Dying sunlight limned three figures standing on a raised platform at the edge of the lawn. Sandahl, dressed in a tight fitting cloth-of-gold gown topped with a flowing duster of carmine lace inset with rubies, stood beside a shriveled ancient elf. She held a thin length of silver chain in her hands. Kayseri stood to Sandahl's right, wearing a form-hugging carmine satin shift overlaid with flowing gold lace that simmered with yellow gems. The same yellow gems threaded through the raven curls piled high on her head. Inky curls spilled down her back in a splendor of sheen and sparkle. Kree’s breathe rushed out as if someone had punched him in the stomach.

  Chana poked his shoulder. "Close your month, My Captain. I don’t care what you’ve heard. Women don’t really go for that slack-jawed lust-filled look."

  At the third blast from the ram’s horn, Sandahl stretched out her hands, the twin suns' rays glinted on the thin chain. In a strong melodious voice she called out, "Nhurstari Rian, First among the Houses, Sandahl Sara el Thallasi summons you."

  Fingers shaking, Rian removed his robe and handed it to Garen.

  "Nhurstari Rian, First among the Houses, Sandahl Sara el Thallasi, compels you. Come to me."

  The moment Rian stepped off the porch a guest blocked his path. Eamon touched the elf’s shoulder, but as he moved aside, another took his place giving Rian hard a push. He stumbled, but Garen steadied him with a hand under his arm. Then a female elf blocked Rian's path. Laughing, Eoin pulled her aside. Kree judged the next challenger his duty. It went on, the mock challenges, until Rian knelt before Sandahl, and the suns dropped below the mountains.

  Sandahl looped the silver chain around Rian’s neck and handed the two ends to the ancient. The ancient pulled gently on the chain until the young Nhurstari lord lifted his face to hers.

  "Rian, speak your House gift?" The old woman’s voice was smooth, cool as silk.

  "Healing."

  "What is your talent?"

  "I am a blood talker."

  "What do you offer?"

  "Hope." Rian raised his right hand.

  The ancient turned to Sandahl, looping the other end of chain around the princess’s neck.

  "Sandahl, speak your House gift."

  "The Thallasi nation," Sandahl answered without hesitation.

  "What is your talent?"

  "Diplomacy."

  "What do you offer?"

  "Hope." Sandahl pressed her palm firmly against Rian’s palm.

  With a whispered word of power, the ancient touched the point where the chain looped across itself, one point with each hand. Kree felt the hairs on his arms stir. His skin tingled as it always did in the presence of magic. The ends of the chain melted, leaving only thin silver bands, without beginning or end. The ceremony complete, Garen draped Rian’s robe around his brother’s shoulders.

  Holding tight to Sandahl’s hand the Rian led his Thallasi child bride back to the lodge. The guest held their lamps high lighting their passage and cheered their young royals. Kree hung back hoping to have a word with Kayseri now that the ceremony was complete, a chance at the very least to tell her how beautiful she looked, but she took Garen’s proffered arm, and the tall Nhurstari escorted her inside.

  Kree's instincts urged him to rush after her, but his participation in the banding ceremony had made him approachable. Like Pixies, the Nhurstari were a naturally curious people. There were new friends to make here, and his duty to his patroness in Elhar demanded he make them. In a manner reminiscent of the ceremonial hindering, Nhurstari after Nhurstari turned Kree aside for a bit of conversation.

  By the time he reached the hall Rian and Sandahl had retired, but he spotted Kayseri near the raised platform set up for the Majority Apparent and his new queen deep in conversation with Garen. She tossed her head, laughed at something the tall elf said. Trust her to target the biggest one of the bunch. She looked gorgeous and happy in this shining throng. The Nhurstari swain attended her every word and somehow managed to smile with his whole body. Even at a distance, Kree could clearly see Garen had lost his heart to Kayseri. Did she feel the same? Garen could give her a long life filled with the love and enchantment she deserved. He could share her mate bond, and most of all, Garen could give her children while Kree... Hell, he could do none of those things. He'd just made up his mind to do the right thing and slip away unnoticed, when Kayseri turned her head and looked straight at him. Their gazes locked. Her face lit up. The radiance of her s
mile was so bright it was a wonder Garen didn't see his shadow. To hell with the right thing, Kree changed direction.

  "My lords and ladies," Garen addressed the assemblage. "Captain Kree Fawr, honored troopers, It is my great pleasure to present Rian, Majority Apparent." Stress on majority brought wild applause from the guest. "And his present and future bride, Sandahl of Thallasi-Nhurstari, Regina."

  Blushing, Rian waved to his guests and hugged his brother. His youth was never more evident to Kree’s eye. The young lord had changed into a cloth-of-gold shirt topped with a hip-length leather vest dyed carmine and tooled in a gold leaf pattern over gold leggings. Soft carmine boots turned down at the knee completed his outfit. The colors echoed those in Sandahl’s grown. A circlet of leaves, this one fashioned of beaten gold, held his hair off his brow. Sandahl stood beside him cool and regal, accepting the Nhurstari accolades as her due. Again, Kree marked the difference between the two elfin races, one free and natural, and the other staid and proper. Bringing their people together would not be an easy task. No indeed there was a world of hard work ahead of Rian and Sandahl. Kree wished them good luck.

  Sandahl Regina! The Nhurstari shouted while Kree worked his way toward Kayseri. He reached her just as the quartet struck the first chord. Music swelled. Rian led Sandahl onto the dance floor stepping through a smooth dance resembling a waltz. At one of the hesitations, Rian passed his bride to Kree, and swept Kayseri into the dance. The dance floor soon filled with couples. Time and again, Kree tried to claim Kayseri’s hand, but someone always beat him to her, all too often, Garen.

  "You’d better let me dance with My Captain soon." Kayseri smiled up into Rian’s laughing amber eyes. "I’m afraid this game of cat and mouse is eroding his temper. Believe me. You don't want to see that." She nodded to where Kree stood against the wall surrounded by his troopers. "Look at him. Any minute now he’ll start chewing the legs off the Red Fist."

  The young elf laughed, delighted. "Why would he?"

  "Because he isn’t foolish enough to chew on you."