Jultar, Lord Edrix, Brother Klee and the remainder of the warriors had awakened Kalsan early that morning for another ceremony. For some reason he couldn't fathom, they agreed he was ready for Oathbound red cord for his warrior braids, and a position in the band of Oathbound warriors. The honor didn't thrill Kalsan half as much as he had imagined. What had he done or said that made his master think he was spiritually mature enough for the honor and duty?
Kalsan wished for the days when his longing for a beard and freedom from shaving was his only problem.
He looked at Andrixine now, listened to her make her vows with a calm, quiet voice and wished he had the nerve to break into the betrothal ceremony and insist she come away with him to talk before they made their vows. But he couldn't seem to get the words up his throat. He could barely speak when it came time to make his vows. He clearly heard Brenden and Marfil snickering softly somewhere in the great hall behind him.
What was he going to do?
Shouts and squeals and the sounds of something heavy slammed repeatedly into the flagstones in the hallway broke through the quiet as the ceremony ended. Kalsan turned, releasing Andrixine's hand, and clasped the hilt of his sword. His first thought was to protect her; his second, relief at the interruption. He was only two steps behind Jultar and Lord Edrix as half the people in the room moved to investigate the disturbance.
Feril shoved his younger brother hard against the wall, causing the blubbering, trembling red-haired boy to slam against it and fall to his knees. By Aldis’ bruised, bleeding face, he had endured a dozen collisions already. Red-faced, muttering obscenities, Feril stomped up to the boy, who curled into a fetal ball, and drew back his leg to kick.
"Don't you dare!” Andrixine thundered. She flew through the gathering crowd and grabbed his upraised fist, twisted him halfway off his feet, and shoved hard. Feril landed face-first against the wall, almost in the same spot where Aldis’ tears and blood and snot smeared the stones. “Listen to me, everyone! Aldis is under my protection. Is that clear?” She knelt and wrapped her arms around the sobbing boy.
"Your protection?” Feril shrieked, spattering blood from his split lip. “That little idiot helped my father escape!"
It took nearly two hours to calm Aldis enough to get his side of the story. By that time, Kalsan and Jultar led search parties to comb the estate and found no trace of Maxil. They did find two horses missing, and the cook complained that four loaves of bread had vanished from the kitchen.
Kalsan's anger and dismay cooled a little when he returned to report to Lord Edrix and Andrixine and saw Pollux sobbing in a corner, refusing comfort from Lorien and his mother. He remembered that the little boy had been put in charge of his older, dim-witted cousin. Pollux was likely crushed by the knowledge that he had failed, somehow.
No one had thought to refuse Aldis when he wanted to visit his father in his temporary prison. The guard hadn't even thought to stay close enough to listen to their conversation. Aldis did everything his father told him, from convincing Pollux to play Hide ‘n Seek so he could steal the keys to his prison room in the stables, to sneaking out to the stables to saddle the horses when everyone else was too busy to notice. Aldis stayed behind because his father promised he would come soon and make everything all right with Andrixine.
Kalsan could imagine what Maxil meant by “all right."
Feril had refused to attend the betrothal ceremony, mostly because no one would take his side in protesting Andrixine's marriage to Kalsan. He went to the stables to berate his father, and found the guard unconscious where his prisoner had left him. He found Aldis close by, innocently playing marbles and telling himself what a good boy he had been, helping his father.
Maxil knew what he was doing, choosing the right time of day to flee. With all the traffic in and around the estate in the last few hours, there was no way to find his trail.
"We have to go after him,” Kalsan said in the silence after he and Jultar made their reports. “What if he had people waiting to help him, in case something did go wrong? What if he goes to the king and tells him you're an imposter?"
"One look at the Spirit Sword will prove that lie,” Jultar said.
"Yes, but first the king must draw close enough to see the sword,” Brother Klee said from the side of the room, where he had listened and watched in silence.
"Then we should send out several parties like arrows, all aimed at each place where this traitor could go,” a new voice announced from the doorway. Female, it rasped with years and rang with humor and strength.
Kalsan turned to see a tall, silver-haired woman dressed in leathers, wearing a worn, purple cloak with the linked sword and leaf emblem of the Sword Sisters. Her warrior braids had Sword Sister purple and the gold cord of the royal line. Her lean, weathered, hawk-nosed face brightened with a smile as she crossed the room and dropped to one knee before Andrixine.
"I'm here to serve, lass.” She drew her sword and proffered the hilt to Andrixine.
"Commander Jeshra—” Andrixine began.
"No, you command me, now.” She winked, her smile widening. “I knew you were blessed with rare talent and a thousand pities you couldn't join us, but Yomnian knows best. Half the chapter house waits in the courtyard, ready for your command."
Andrixine slowly rested her hand on the hilt offered her. She sat up straighter. Her gaze swept the faces of everyone gathered in the room. A tiny smile caught up one corner of her mouth as a muffled gulp and sob announced Pollux's presence in the doorway behind Kalsan.
"We ride,” she announced quietly. “We have already lost time trying to learn the tale. I will ride to Henchvery, to try to overtake him there. Lord Jultar, will you and the Oathbound ride to Cereston?"
"Command me,” the warlord rumbled.
"Kangan?"
The captain of Faxinor's soldiers stepped forward, one hand on the hilt of his sword.
"We are going north and east. If my uncle fled south or west instead, where would he go?"
"I know two sure places,” the man said, nodding his dark head, his obsidian eyes glinting at the challenge.
"I trust your choices."
"Can I go too?” Pollux asked, his voice breaking with new sobs. “Please? Let me help?"
"Pollux...” Andrixine sighed, rose and crossed to her brother. She knelt and gathered him into her arms as he burst into tears again. “It's not your fault,” she said, in answer to words mumbled against her shoulder.
"No, it's not,” Kalsan said, and knelt next to her. “Andrixine told you to watch Aldis, to make sure no one was cruel to him. She didn't tell you to keep him from doing something wrong, did she?"
"No,” the boy gulped, raising his head and looking at Kalsan with a flicker of hope in his eyes. He knuckled away his tears and looked at his sister.
"Kalsan's right. You did exactly as you were told. I'm to blame, because I didn't tell you to keep Aldis away from Uncle Maxil."
"There, you see?” Lady Arriena said, stepping out of the doorway where she had watched. “I told you your sister wouldn't be angry."
"Let me help?” the boy pleaded.
Andrixine cast Kalsan a helpless look. He almost laughed, yet he understood. How could she refuse to let her brother come on what would be a grueling ride, without destroying his fragile confidence? Then he had an idea.
"You have to stay and protect Aldis while Andrixine is away,” he said. “Make sure Feril isn't cruel to him. That's a very big job, but I think you can do it."
"Feril's big,” Pollux said, eyes wide, but he seemed to have left his tears behind. Perhaps the idea of standing up to his nasty cousin had a great deal of appeal.
"Go to my room and get my practice sword from the chest at the foot of my bed,” Andrixine said, releasing him. “You can use that if Feril is mean to Aldis."
"Really?” A grin brightened the little boy's face. When his sister nodded, he dashed across the room to Aldis and grabbed hold of the bigger boy's hand. “Come on, Aldis. I have t
o go get my sword so I can protect you!"
Feril glowered as chuckles rippled around the room. Kalsan barely noticed, delighted with the look of understanding and gratitude Andrixine gave him. Then the moment passed as they settled down to the business of finding Maxil of Faxinor before he could cause more damage.
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Chapter Seventeen
"HE'S RATHER CHARMING,” Commander Jeshra said, breaking the night quiet of the plain where the Sword Sisters had camped for a few hours of sleep.
"Who?” Andrixine said, though she knew.
She had caught the appraising glances her teacher had given Kalsan before their search parties rode out. Despite everything else they needed to consider, planning strategy and trying to think three steps ahead of her uncle, she should have known Jeshra would bring up Kalsan eventually.
"That young warrior of yours. Those long, somber looks he gives you when you aren't looking at him make my old heart skip a few beats. I remember when my own sweetheart mooned after me."
"Kalsan isn't my sweetheart."
"He was ten years my senior and a tough old soldier, but he was tongue-tied and clumsy every time we looked into each other's eyes. Come to think of it, so was I.” She chuckled. “Your warrior is rather good looking, too. That's a bonus. Why, lass, you're blushing!"
"Jeshra, please don't torment me. Don't make me want—” Andrixine caught her breath, refusing to let bitter words spill out. She feared they would sound like the nattering of a love-struck adolescent. She couldn't take the thought of her admired teacher laughing at her.
"Make you want to feel desirable?” Jeshra said softly. She grinned with a mist in her eyes. “I remember wanting a man to kiss me and hold me. You're afraid he won't touch you because he's being forced to marry you? Oh, lass, it can't be that bad.” She slid over on the log they used as a seat before the fire and put an arm around Andrixine's shoulders. “You want him to want you, don't you?” She had the grace to sigh instead of laugh when Andrixine blushed hotter and nodded.
"Kalsan said it was the greatest honor to serve the Sword Bearer, but that doesn't make it right for us to marry."
"He's marrying his duty and not you, is that it?” A groan that was half laughter escaped her. “You wonder if he sees the girl with stars in her eyes, or if he sees the Spirit Sword?"
"That's exactly it.” Somehow, spoken, her doubts didn't sound quite so petty as she had imagined. “Am I being selfish?"
"Not at all. You're too noble for your own good.” Jeshra shook her for emphasis.
That earned a smothered giggle; the Sword Sister commander had a habit of shaking all her subordinates and trainees like that at one time or another, partially in affection, partially in comfort, partially in amused frustration.
"You said he swore the oath-friend vow before he knew you were the Bearer, yes? You're still friends, aren't you?” She waited until Andrixine nodded. “Well, be glad in what you do have. Let time and proximity do its work. You'd be amazed how a few months of morning breath and grubby field living will drive away the glamour to reveal the real person. If he doesn't learn to see and appreciate the woman you are beneath all your duties and titles, then he's a fool. And somehow I don't think you or the Spirit Sword would suffer a fool in your presence."
"You think so?” Andrixine whispered.
"I know so. And if that doesn't work, I'll thrash him until he gets some sense into that handsome head of his."
Chuckles followed, quickly hushed. Dawn was only a few hours away, and the other Sword Sisters needed their sleep.
* * * *
THE NEXT DAY they struck gold. They met up with Maxil's seneschal and four Henchvery soldiers, ostensibly coming to Faxinor to report to their master. The surprise of all five was genuine, meaning Andrixine's uncle had not met up with them or reached his home. Commander Jeshra put them under arrest and they headed east, to take their prisoners to Cereston and the king.
When they reached the Bantilli Trail they were a day north of Faxinor and two days from Andrixine's wedding. She hoped her teacher had forgotten, but that hope was dashed when Jeshra sent Andrixine home with an escort of four Sword Sisters and an order to wear skirts and cosmetics and perfume whenever possible. Andrixine laughed, despite her frustration. There were literally hundreds of friends and allies coming to the wedding. She couldn't embarrass her parents by running away; she had to follow through on her duty and responsibilities.
When the five rode into the castle courtyard late in the afternoon, she learned Jultar's band had returned from Cereston that morning and had found no sign of her uncle at the capital. All hope of arrest now lay with Kangan.
Kalsan's brother, two sisters and their families had arrived along with Jultar's band. His parents were serving as ambassadors to Eretia, across the ocean, and wouldn't know of the marriage for weeks. Kalsan had taken his family on a day-long tour of Faxinor with all four of Andrixine's brothers. Knowing how her brothers loved to ramble and explore, they would not be back until nightfall. That suited Andrixine perfectly. She needed to be alone to think and settle her thoughts and feelings, and the last thing she needed was to run into Kalsan unexpectedly somewhere. Especially since what she had to settle concerned him.
They were to be married the next evening, after all.
To her chagrin, Jultar had assigned his warriors in rotating shifts to be her bodyguards. Maxil could have found a place to hide on the vast Faxinor estates. If he had a chance to attack Andrixine, he would. So Marfil was her guard until she grew tired of wandering the inner gardens and decided to try to sleep. Dusk was turning to night, the air just touched with a refreshing chill, and bright stars in a cloudless sky promised a glorious day for the wedding festivities. It would be glorious, if she could get enough sleep to let her appreciate it.
Andrixine thought of the dress her mother had made her try on for fitting, just after dinner. The multiple layers of gossamer white, shot with threads of silver and gold, made the most lovely yet simple dress she could have ever wanted. Her spirits had lifted a little and she dared hope Kalsan would look at her and realize she was a woman, too. She let herself dream of a delighted smile on his face and eagerness in their first kiss.
She managed to smile at Marfil when he took up position before her door, and bade him good night. Andrixine hoped she could sleep and her dreams would be pleasant ones.
She closed and shot the bolt on her door and looked at her bed, her body aching to curl up in the cool sheets and drift into sleep. Her thoughts turned to the suite of rooms which had been prepared for her and Kalsan while she was away, hunting. Her mother had made her inspect them after trying on her wedding dress. Andrixine had looked at the big, curtained bed and felt like a rabbit caught in a serpent's stare. In less than a day, she and Kalsan would be escorted to that suite of rooms to begin their married life. She knew it would be impossible to sleep tomorrow night, lying next to Kalsan, wondering what he thought, what he felt, when he would start to regret this step he had taken.
"Andrixine?"
Kalsan's whisper wrung a gasp from her. Andrixine looked around her darkened room, hand pressed over her heart. Was he at the door? How could his voice come so clearly through the wood? Why hadn't Marfil knocked?
"Sorry,” he said, stepping out of the shadowed bathing nook. “I've been waiting for hours."
"What are you doing here?” she said, managing to keep her voice to a whisper.
"We need to talk.” Kalsan lifted his hands as if he would reach for her, then let them drop to his side.
"Now? In my bedroom?” She gestured at the door.
"I know about Marfil. That's why I snuck in here before you came back. He wouldn't let a man talk to his sweetheart if he was going to die in the morning."
"We're not sweethearts.” Her face warmed at the bitterness in her voice, and she turned away so he couldn't see.
"No, we're not.” Kalsan seemed to choke for a moment. “But we'll be married at sunset tomorr
ow. I'm not stepping up to the altar until we clear a few things between us."
"You don't have to."
"I do."
"Kalsan, I know you were coerced, and I'm sorry. If we had more time...” Andrixine blinked hard to fight the tears burning wet at the backs of her eyes.
"Coerced?” A sharp bark of laughter escaped him, quickly muffled behind his hand. “Andrixine, do you trust me?"
"Yes."
"With your life?"
"Of course.” She looked at him now. Kalsan had never been so pale, so solemn before. She couldn't blame that all on the moonlight shining straight into her window.
"Then why won't you believe I want to marry you? Don't you know it would kill me to see you marry someone else?"
She wanted to sit to fight the sudden dizziness, but the entire castle had vanished around her. All she could see was Kalsan's face, the earnestness in his eyes.
"If it's so distasteful to you, to marry me—"
"No!” Andrixine flinched, then realized her voice had barely been loud enough to reach to her door. What if Marfil heard? Would he storm the room and attack Kalsan before he recognized him? The idea of Kalsan hurt by her foolishness calmed her. Danger made her think clearly—it was the demands of being a lady that put her off balance and turned her muddle-headed.
Kalsan smiled, his face gleaming, and Andrixine knew he understood all she meant in that single word. Suddenly, she could breathe again.
"Close your eyes.” He took a step closer.
"What?"
"Do you trust me? Then close your eyes."
For just a moment, she hesitated. What was he doing?
Then she decided, for now and always, she trusted him. He was her oath-friend. What kind of marriage would they have if she didn't trust him now? She closed her eyes and stood perfectly still, waiting, wondering what he intended.
He put his hands on her shoulders, startling a squeak from her. His breath touched her face. Andrixine felt that familiar, melting warmth from her dreams become reality now. She liked being this close to him, the slightly musky odor of him, linen shirt and woolen trousers and clean sweat.
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