"Don't joke about something like that!” Kalsan blurted. Then, unaccountably, the merriment in Brother Klee's eyes brought answering laughter up from deep inside him. Kalsan's legs trembled, but he felt remarkably better. When the holy man gestured, he could do nothing but follow.
* * * *
ANDRIXINE PLACED THE Spirit Sword in the rack next to her bed, then closed her eyes and sank down onto the cushioned trunk at the foot of her bed. The pleasant familiarity of her room filled her with peace and security. She could navigate her room with her eyes closed, going from bed to window seat to wardrobe to bathing nook and dressing table without tripping or running into anything. Her room was three times the size of inn rooms she had stayed in, the carpets thicker and more pleasant than the rough, splintering rushes, the candles scented. No more rancid fat-burning lamps.
Still, despite the pleasure of being home and secure in familiar, luxurious surroundings, something felt wrong.
A knock on the door broke her from her thoughts. Andrixine took a deep breath and went to answer, knowing it was the summons she had been dreading. A serving woman curtseyed and kept her head bowed when she spoke.
"M'Lady, your father asks you come speak with him and your mother,” she said.
"Thank you. I will be with them in a moment.” She closed the door and muffled a sigh. So, the silly rumors and changed behavior had started already. Andrixine put on slippers instead of returning to her boots, opened the door and walked the long, winding hallway to her parents’ suite.
Lord Edrix and Lady Arriena sat on a couch, facing the door. Brother Klee and Jultar stood on either side of the couch. Kalsan leaned against the wall by the window. They appeared to be engaged in pleasant conversation, but some sense of warning stopped Andrixine on the threshold. Kalsan avoided looking at her. What was wrong with him?
"Andrixine.” Her father smiled and gestured for her to sit between him and her mother. She settled gingerly on the edge of the couch and saw Brother Klee and Jultar exchange a questioning look and shake their heads.
"Have you considered your next step?” Lady Arriena asked, taking one of her daughter's hands.
"We have to go to the king.” She looked to Jultar, who nodded. “Lord Jultar has his report to make, and he must notify the king immediately that a new Sword Bearer has risen."
"You have your duties here to attend to, first,” Lord Edrix said, his voice soft. The apology in his eyes confirmed her sense of impending trouble.
"Must I take a husband?” Andrixine bit her lip as she realized she whined.
"Now, more than ever.” He tousled her hair, smiling sadly. “You said yourself, perhaps a year until war finds us. Brother Klee and Lord Jultar have been giving us advice."
"Who have you chosen for me?"
"You have the final say. We don't want to force you, only to help you make a reasonable, responsible choice—"
"In a few day's time,” she interrupted. “Father, can't I step aside, give the title to Lori or one of the boys?"
"We already discussed that,” Jultar said. “Several people proposed that option, but it would not be permitted either by the Council of Lords or the sword."
"You require a man who accepts you as a warrior, who understands your duties as Bearer and heir, who can support you in battle, who is a kindred soul, who is pledged to your honor and is of noble blood—we must consider your heir, of course,” Brother Klee finished.
"Who fits that list of requirements?” she nearly whispered. Andrixine felt her lips curving in a smile. She had often imagined second and third sons making such a list, weighing the advantages against the disadvantages of marrying her.
"Me,” Kalsan said, stepping forward.
"How can you do this to him?” she blurted, her voice breaking as she stood. She wanted to race from the room, but everyone watched her, and there was no escape. “He is my oath-friend! How can you force him—"
"It's the only answer,” Kalsan said, reaching out a hand as if to grasp hers. “In a way, we're already betrothed through our vows as oath-friends."
"A fine way I'd serve you as oath-friend, if I forced you to marry me!” She wanted to hit him.
Yet, something inside her spread wings to soar, singing in wordless delight. Ruthlessly, she squelched it even as she longed to drown in the glorious dream.
"Nobody is forcing me.” He scowled, and that was far better than the unreadable look that was like fear or pleading, yet neither.
"Enough!” Lord Jultar said, and the laughter in his voice shocked Andrixine more than the aching certainty that she had hurt Kalsan, somehow.
"Kalsan of Hestrin, do you willingly ask Andrixine Faxinor to consider you as her husband?” Brother Klee said, stepping up next to Lord Jultar.
"Yes. Of course.” Kalsan scowled at the floor.
"Andrixine, do you object to Kalsan as your husband?” Lady Arriena asked, her soft voice startling after the rougher voices.
"Mother—"
"Is there someone else you would rather have us consider?” her father asked. “We approve of Kalsan. Brother Klee and Lord Jultar both speak highly of him."
"No, Father. You know there is no one else.” Now she found it hard to look at anyone. “But Kalsan shouldn't be forced to do this because of his oath. He should have the right—"
"It's my choice.” The very quietness of Kalsan's voice silenced the thundering of her heart more effectively than a shout. “I've been searching and praying for months now, asking Yomnian to give me some great duty to serve Him. I wanted a calling. This is my calling. To serve at your side and watch over you. It's the greatest honor of a warrior's life to give his oath to the Sword Bearer. Yet this is a higher honor, to bind my life into yours as your husband.” A strangled laugh escaped him. “If you really are my oath-friend, don't deny me this!"
Everything went still inside her as she raised her head and looked into Kalsan's eyes. He truly believed what he said. There was no anger, no fear, no grudging sacrifice. If anything, he feared her rejection.
The quiet anger ceased nibbling at her as she realized the truth of what Brother Klee had said. Kalsan was the husband for her. The sort of man she needed to marry. He would never hurt her, never demand his husbandly rights.
She blushed a little as she realized she had feared that.
In short, he was the perfect match. He wanted the burden of being the Sword Bearer's husband. He saw it as a grand mission from Yomnian. How could she deny him the greatest destiny he could imagine? What sort of friend would she be?
It was the perfect solution for both of them.
And yet...
"Yes, thank you, Kalsan. You honor me. I will ... gladly ... marry you.” Andrixine tried to smile, but the events of the long day wrapped around her and turned her limbs to heavy weights.
"That wasn't as hard as we anticipated,” Jultar muttered. He burst out laughing when Andrixine and Kalsan both glared at him, then exchanged exasperated glances of mutual suffering. To their chagrin, Lady Arriena and Lord Edrix and Brother Klee joined in the laughter a moment later.
* * * *
"THOSE TWO WERE made for each other,” Lord Edrix said, after Kalsan had bade them good-night and Andrixine left moments later.
"They remind me of us,” his wife said.
"Oh no, love, we weren't that blind, were we?” He laughed.
"Indeed, you were,” Brother Klee said as he settled down into a chair facing them. “I remember. I was tempted to bang your heads together until you saw sense."
"Now don't leave me out,” Jultar said. “You three have a story, and I want to hear it. Matchmakers must stick together."
"Matchmakers, indeed,” Lord Edrix muttered, giving Brother Klee a considering look. “If my daughter and Kalsan are as happy together as we are, I don't mind tricking them into doing what's good for them. They're rather miserable right now."
"They each think the other is making some terrible sacrifice and feeling terribly guilty about it,” Lady Arrien
a said with a chuckle. “Much like you, love."
"Ah, but you were already my wife when I made the offer."
"No more hints!” Jultar roared. “Tell me the tale!"
"Hmm, where to begin?” She settled more securely into the circle of Edrix's arm around her.
"Lord Edrix was an ambassador to King Iren of Sendorland, twenty-three years ago,” Brother Klee said. “Lady Arriena was cousin—is still cousin—to Lord Mordon Traxslan, then-Prince Drahas’ most trusted adviser. The nobles in Sendorland believe their women exist only to make politically astute marriages for their families, provide suitable heirs, and keep their husbands happy. Lady Arriena was a scandal. She wanted to be a scholar and hated the thought of marriage."
"Much like our daughter, I'm afraid,” Edrix muttered. His wife wrinkled up her nose at him and lightly slapped his hand.
"Lord Mordon decided to punish her and use her to trap Lord Edrix. The plan was to fabricate a scandal, to force Lord Edrix to betray his country to save his honor."
"I was the perfect tool,” Lady Arriena said. “I was silly enough to believe Mordon had finally relented and was letting me pursue my studies. He wanted me to attach myself to Edrix and ask him and his party all sorts of questions in the name of bettering understanding between our countries. They learned many things about Sendorland my horrid cousin didn't want them to know and thought that I was too dim-witted to know."
"We had quite a few theological discussions,” Lord Edrix said, taking up the tale, “comparing the restrictive image of Yomnian in Sendorland with the loving parent we worship in Reshor. We fell in love, but we were distracted by discovering a plot to kill the king. We had to run for our lives."
"To escape Mordon, they pretended to be young lovers, fleeing relatives who wouldn't let them marry.” Brother Klee took over. “That happens often in Sendorland. They had quite a bit of help along the way."
"Ah, so your High Scholar performed the marriage ceremony when you gave them shelter?” Jultar guessed. He grinned, delighted in the happy ending.
"Not quite.” The holy man chuckled. “They were too busy to ever discuss their feelings. When a harvesting party from Snowy Mount found them, they were nearly dead from exhaustion and exposure and didn't know they had reached Reshor and safety. We heard the story of them being fleeing lovers, and decided that the only sensible thing was to marry them immediately. Neither one can tell you a thing about their marriage ceremony because they were both barely awake for it."
"It was rather disconcerting to wake up and find myself next to Edrix that first morning. And rather nice,” Lady Arriena added, blushing even as she laughed. “He was the soul of honor, promising he would explain everything to the High Scholar and have me released from my vows with no smear on my good name. That made me furious, and I was too exhausted to understand why."
"They gave each other the silent treatment for several days, before they started to talk.” Brother Klee chuckled. “I was delighted when you two stopped being angry with each other and started realizing you wanted to stay married."
"And too honorable to trap our beloved in an unwanted marriage,” Lord Edrix said with a chuckle. “I hope we aren't wrong, my friends. I hope we haven't made those two miserable for the rest of their lives."
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Sixteen
IN THE MORNING, Andrixine had a multitude of tasks to occupy her thoughts and time. She sent Alysyn's nurse and four of her father's soldiers to Snowy Mount to bring her home. She chose Derek to serve as her page. Brother Klee and Jultar both promised to take her brother aside and teach him what he needed to know to serve in court and on the battlefield.
Four Oathbound warriors left for Cereston to give the king a preliminary report from Jultar. Andrixine suspected Jultar had written more about her in his report than the preparations for war in Sendorland. She found she anticipated meeting the king and the rigors of court, in contrast to her upcoming marriage.
And yet, her dreams had been full of Kalsan—once she finally fell asleep. Not unpleasant, but unsettling. She remembered only snatches of her dreams, but knew they were of Kalsan. Kissing village girls. Being teased about his many casual sweethearts by the other warriors. He was the faceless man who kissed her and created feelings in her she had never known.
When she came to the hall for breakfast, Kalsan was there before her. He looked up, startled when her father called greeting to her. Andrixine could barely force herself to nod and say good morning to him. She hurried past him to the high table and knew she had seen relief on his face.
She threw herself into her day's work to fill her mind with thoughts of anything else but her coming marriage.
Mid-afternoon, she helped her father draw up the charges against her uncle for the king's judgment. As victim of the man's schemes as well as heir to the lord who recommended punishment, Andrixine had to be part of the process. She found no satisfaction in recounting the events of the last few weeks or remembering the months spent convalescing far from home.
Feril had lodged a formal protest the moment he heard Andrixine had accepted Kalsan's suit. She could almost laugh as she read the badly written complaint detailing his far superior claim to take his place as her husband. Even with dozens of witnesses to her order that Feril never speak of marriage to her, he still had the gall to claim his “right” to marry her. Didn't the fat, greasy idiot realize that his father had no power to promise him anything—least of all a bride who didn't want him?
The other suitors had left. No one had the gall or bad taste to resume courting Lorien. That was a relief to more than just Lorien. Andrixine imagined her sister was rather sickened by the whole process, when she had looked forward to her days of courtship only last fall. She felt sorry for Lorien, but better that her sister learn some of the harsher realities of life now, before she left the shelter of her ancestral home.
"What of Aldis?” she asked, when she signed the parchment denying Feril's suit and sprinkled sand over the ink to dry it.
"He'll stay here with us, for the time being,” Lord Edrix said. He leaned back in his chair, letting himself slouch with that unpleasant task done. “If you feel uncomfortable—"
"I don't blame Aldis,” she hurried to say. “He was a tool. What surprises me is that Uncle Maxil loves him more than Feril."
"Aldis looks like his mother, Gersta. There was much love between Gersta and my brother."
"Two of a kind.” She flinched at the bitterness in her voice. Two of Gersta of Henchvery's three older brothers had died mysteriously, but the third had outlived her, and his son had many guards. He probably felt threatened because his sister gave her sons the Henchvery family name, not their father's. Seven Faxinor children stood between Feril and his uncle's estate, and only one cousin stood between him and lordship of Henchvery. Perhaps Gersta had been poisoned in her turn, damaging Aldis before birth? The entire family sickened Andrixine.
"It looks that way now.” Lord Edrix sighed. “I like to think Maxil wasn't so hard until he came under her influence."
"Father, she's been dead fourteen years. That's a long time for bad influence to last."
"Yes. You're right. We should send Feril away as soon as possible. He'll probably try to ruin your wedding."
Andrixine wanted to laugh at the idea. What could her obnoxious cousin do to compete with her own unsettled feelings?
"I put Pollux in charge of Aldis—they get along the best. He says Aldis is miserable. He keeps apologizing for what Uncle Maxil did. As if he could have stopped him."
"Remember this, Andrixine,” her father said, reaching across the table to cover her hands with his. “In the days to come, you will pass judgment on your enemies. Be merciful. Many of the soldiers whom you will defeat and take prisoner in the years ahead won't understand the reasons for wars they fight."
"I don't understand either!” she burst out, a bitter chuckle making her voice ragged.
"Then be kind. Always remember many innoc
ents are hurt, whether you reach for justice or revenge."
"Yes, Father.” She closed her eyes, feeling tired and centuries old under the weight of her responsibilities.
* * * *
KALSAN STOOD BEFORE the assembled household, guests and friends, retainers, landholders and Faxinor soldiers that evening and wished he had cut out his tongue days before. He was sure he had done the worst possible thing as Andrixine's oath-friend by proposing himself as her husband.
She was as lovely as he had imagined, standing next to him as her father and mother and Brother Klee read the holy writ to ratify their betrothal. Her warrior braids had vanished, tucked up into a crown of flowers, white and blue and gold. Her figure was slim and graceful as a young willow, accented by the clinging folds of her pale blue dress.
Pale was the proper word. Her skin was too pale, as if she had not slept or eaten properly for days. Her hand was cool and utterly still in his clasp. Her eyes didn't sparkle as he had hoped his bride's eyes would on the day they signed their marriage contract. The few times he could see her eyes.
Andrixine avoided looking at him. Kalsan couldn't read enough expression in her somber face to guess her feelings. Terror? Relief? Resignation? Resentment? The expected bridal nervousness? Was she angry with him and keeping her silence because she knew she had no other choice?
As Brother Klee read the commands to husband and wife to prepare them for their vows in ten days, Kalsan couldn't keep his mind on the words. He wanted to talk with her, ask her how she felt, plead his case. Yet when would they have a private moment together until they were actually married? He knew she would avoid him, as she had all day today. Their wedding night would be too late. He had to settle their questions before the ceremony. His uncertainty was as irritating as the stubble of the beard he was now allowed to grow.
Heir of Fain [Faxinor Chronicles #1] Page 18