by Zen DiPietro
Guardians of Terath:
Breaking Bard
ZEN DIPIETRO
Copyright
GUARDIANS OF TERATH: BREAKING BARD
Copyright © 2015 by Zen DiPietro
Cover Design by Fiona Jayde
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without express written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations for the purpose of review.
Please purchase only authorized electronic editions. Distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law.
ISBN: 978-1-943931-02-6
Published in the United States of America by Parallel Worlds Press
Pronunciation Guide
1
A man sees the woman he loves standing in the wedding arbor. He thinks about a long and happy life with her. Then he turns and offers his arm to the bride beside him. Arc was pretty sure there was a joke in there somewhere about a guy marrying the wrong woman, but he had no further time to consider.
“Ready?” he asked.
His aunt Ina was the most radiant bride he’d ever seen. She wore the traditional forest green color, though her gown was only tea length and the cut was more sophisticated than the norm. Her flower circlet was classically bridal, and Arc marveled at how happy she looked.
“I’ve been ready for a couple decades now.” Her eyes sparkled with laughter.
She took his arm and together they strolled down the path to the arbor. The small assembly of guests beamed at the bride, sharing her infectious joy.
Standing beneath the arbor, Kassimeigh and Luc bore more serious expressions. Arc kissed his aunt on the cheek and stepped back, completing his part of the ceremony. Ina offered her hands to Luc and his features transformed into a grin of pure delight.
The ceremony itself was short and simple. Kassimeigh exuded lethal serenity in her formal black shoka. Though similar to a justice’s everyday shoka, this one was more tailored to her athletic form. Her arms and legs bore lightweight bracers, and an ultralight chest plate conformed to her front. All of the armor bore an intricate design of gold scrollwork along the edges. Her gloves and boots were slightly dressier than the norm, and she wore no hood. A wedding was hardly the place for full shoka. Her red ringlets curled around her head in an unruly array that did nothing to mitigate her air of fearsome authority. Arc decided he liked his beloved in formal wear.
She paused for a long moment before the final declaration, casting her gaze over the small gathering. The congregation observed the customary silence, then Kassimeigh returned her attention to the couple. “Your personal vows to each other supersede any legality I can confer upon you. Nonetheless, with the authority of the shiv order, I declare the two of you legally married.” A small smile curved across her mouth. “Finally.” Arc laughed along with everyone else. Kassimeigh had a wicked sense of humor when she chose to employ it.
The notes of the traditional wedding song floated through the air and the newlyweds wrapped their arms around each other, swaying gently beneath the arbor. The guests, including Arc and Kassimeigh, encircled the couple and joined hands as they enjoyed the airy flute music. Although Luc and Ina had composed the shortest possible guest list, Arc was pleased to be surrounded by nearly all of his favorite people. Kassimeigh’s hand was warm and strong within his, and he spotted his parents on the other side of the circle. Will and Izzy stood to Kassimeigh’s left. Aunt Ina had hired none other than Élan Gray to perform the music. It was a wonderful grouping of people, and Arc took care to savor every moment.
Since Kassimeigh had become a shiv elder, he hadn’t seen a great deal of her. Fulfilling those duties as well as the ones required by her position of commander of the Terath Guard left them far too little time together.
But never mind that now. His aunt had just gotten married, and he got to share the event with the love of his life. For today, that was plenty. He’d enjoy it while he could.
Once she’d completed the obligatory flute music, Élan removed her mandolin from its case and nodded to her best friend and frequent musical partner Sim River, who pulled out a drum. They launched into a lively party song that always got people dancing. Élan’s voice tripped up and down the scales in a call to revelry. Music was a great equalizer. The impressively distinguished guests let slip some of their ingrained decorum as they moved away from the arbor and onto the dance floor.
She and Sim played two more dance songs to give the guests a chance to loosen up and shift from a ceremonial mood to a celebratory one. Later they transitioned to slower, more atmospheric music to segue into the meal, which the caterers had begun to plate at the assembled serving stations on the other side of the arbor. Even across the distance, Élan could smell wonderful aromas of grilled vegetable and mushrooms coming from the big serving dishes. She felt a deep rumble in her stomach.
By the time the guests had seated themselves at long tables dotted with simple floral centerpieces, Élan was itching for the chance to socialize. The only trouble with performing for an event was the inability to mingle freely. But a wedding meal gave her the opportunity, provided she wasn’t expected to provide music while the guests ate.
The wedding party sat at the opposite end of their table, too far away to talk to, but Élan and Sim sat across from two friends of Luc’s. Azure was a manahi doctor and Mallie was a geologist. Élan’s relationship with Luc had been, to this point, standoffish and somewhat tense, so she found it interesting to see what sort of people would call him friend.
Her lack of ease with Luc was her own fault, she knew. Since she’d gotten to know Kassimeigh, her discomfort with being among manahi had begun to subside, but old prejudices could be hard to banish completely.
Sim harbored no such prejudices and wasted no time in flirting with the doctor. She was somewhat plain looking but Sim was a true connoisseur of women—he appreciated intelligence and talent as much as beauty. “It must be nice for you to get back to the mid-lats. I can’t imagine living in Apex. Dating must be nearly impossible.” He flashed his dimples and Élan fought the urge to roll her eyes.
“Actually, I did date someone briefly, but only for a month or so. Great guy, but just not a match.” Azure glanced away from Sim to smile thanks at the server who set a hot vegetable salad in front of her.
Sim’s eyebrows lifted and a slow grin spread across his face. “A shame not to have someone to keep you warm on those cold Apex nights.”
Azure’s eyes flicked toward Will, the General of the Guard, who sat at the opposite end of the table. He was engaged in conversation with Arc and Kassimeigh. “Don’t let Will hear you being negative about Apex. He’s grown fond of our new home.” She smiled and shook her head, so Élan couldn’t be sure if she was teasing or not.
Azure continued, “We actually have a remarkably livable area, not at all like the wasteland you’re thinking. It’s nothing like the rest of Apex. Besides, now that we have the monorail installed, traveling down to the mid-lats is easy to do.”
“Ah.” Sim inclined his head. “I did know that part. But after a lifetime of Apex being so remote, I keep thinking of it as barely accessible. I need to mentally adjust.” He tapped his forehead, as if resetting his bra
in.
Élan didn’t think Sim was making any progress with the doctor, but she found it entertaining to watch him try. She dug into her salad, which was a delightful mix of tart and fresh flavors. The shredded vegetables were cooked but still crisp, and dressed in a tangy sauce that made her sorry to take the final bite. She eyed Sim’s plate, which had been sadly neglected, and wondered if she could switch their dishes without anyone noticing. She gave her plate a test scoot toward him.
Azure nodded to Sim. “It’s only been a few months. Most people haven’t really adjusted yet. And anyway, it’s not like just anyone can head up to the fortress. You have to have security clearance to board the monorail that goes to Apex.”
“Another change,” Élan mused as she picked up her wine glass, twirling it between her fingers. Most days, noon would be early to serve wine, but weddings had their own set of rules. Thank nature for that. “Needing security clearance to board a monorail is a big shift. I wonder sometimes if we’re at risk of becoming too militarized. I hate to think of losing our peace and tranquility.”
Azure sat up straighter. “On the contrary, the Guard is safeguarding the very peace we all cherish. Recent events have shown that having the Guard in place and ready to protect us is precisely what we need to preserve peace and safety for everyone.”
Élan upended her empty glass and set it on the tablecloth. Her fingertips padded a silent drumbeat on the bottom of the glass as she considered. “I don’t disagree. But it doesn’t mean that changes for the better don’t also create bitter byproduct.” A tiny bead of red wine formed inside the glass and rolled down. It landed on the white tablecloth and bloomed into a crimson stain the size of a fingertip.
Mallie smiled sympathetically. “It’s a curse of youth to find tragedy in change. Living is changing. It happens every day. Someday you’ll be old enough to find it merely interesting.”
Élan wasn’t sure if Mallie’s advice was reassuring or depressing. The older woman laughed, as if reading her thoughts. “This is a wedding. Let’s focus on the positive.”
“You’re right.” Élan smiled. She looked down the table toward the wedding party. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a happier bride.”
Conversation flowed naturally to the newlyweds, then on to weddings, celebrations, and wine. Lighthearted topics were certainly more welcome at such a cheery event.
Élan didn’t manage to snag Sim’s salad, but the entrée soon followed and it proved to be even more delicious. She rescued her upside-down wine glass and enjoyed one more glass of that, as well. By the time she sipped the last zesty drops, servers were removing empty plates from the table.
“It looks like everyone has finished eating. I’ll have to get back to making music.” She excused herself, and Sim followed suit.
His arm curled comfortably around her waist on the short walk back to their performance area. Élan leaned into him from old habit, enjoying the ease of their friendship. Once back to their stage, she checked the settings on the audio reflectors to ensure they were still properly aligned. Satisfied, she caught Sim’s eye. “Dance time?”
“Yup. Seems like it.” He opened a case and extracted an electronic drum with multiple heads and effect relays.
Élan respected all of her instruments with a particular reverence, but she loved one of them above all others. Her fingers slid over the hard-shell case of her leth and flicked open the clasps. She lifted the leth out and rested the top end against her left shoulder, settling the bottom against her right thigh.
A series of light touches known only to her woke the instrument from its slumber and caused it to hum with readiness. Her leth was one of only two in the world, and the other was nothing like hers in form or function. This one had been made specifically for her, custom in every way. It utilized not only her musical talent, but also her ability to use mana. Her modest ability with the natural resource gave her only the ability to effect small, atmospheric changes, but it allowed her to add a dimension of feeling to her music that no other bard could manage.
It was two of her handspans wide and made of a composite of both natural and synthetic wood. The top, bottom, and sides all were functional. With different touches, slides, and taps, she could evoke a range of sounds equivalent to several different instruments playing in concert. She’d named it after the primo virtuoso who had made it for her. Leth had long been a mentor and a friend to her and she thought of him every time she played his namesake.
She counted off a few beats and launched into an intricate dance song with multiple melodies, a bass line, and Sim’s drums. Her hands slipped over and around the leth, keying it with hundreds of combinations of touches and evoking a nearly irresistible rhythm. One by one, the guests drifted onto the dance floor. The bride even pulled the groom to the center, and Élan was amazed to see Luc indulge his new wife with some respectable dance moves.
Élan barely noticed the passage of time as she played song after song. She and Sim enjoyed watching people pair up into couples, diverge, and reassemble in new combinations. She saw Luc dance with Mallie, Arc dance with Kassimeigh, and Izzy dance with Arc’s father. Then partners swapped out and Izzy danced with Luc, Arc danced with his mother, and Kassimeigh joined the general. Élan had met Will Azrith only in passing during the mana-bug fiasco a few months prior. He was tall, muscular, and more beautiful than a man had any business being. He also seemed to be a good dancer.
Élan noticed Sim grinning at her and she shrugged. Like he hadn’t checked out every woman not old enough to be his mother. Maybe a couple who were, too. She sent him a sweet smile and he laughed. He increased the tempo of his drumming, forcing her to match him. She caught the challenge in his eyes and poured herself into her music. It wouldn’t be the first time they tried to see who could outdo the other in a performance. Sim’s eyes narrowed and bored into hers even as his grin widened. Challenge accepted.
Music vibrated down Kassimeigh’s spine, as if forcing an urge to dance into her very bone marrow. She sensed the edge of mana imbued into the music but even without that, the beat would be hard to ignore. Anyone not already dancing tapped a foot, bounced a shoulder, or swayed in place.
From the edge of the dance floor, she watched Arc artlessly lead his mother through some quick steps while they both laughed. Both of his parents seemed to like her and she was glad for it. Although he’d been as relaxed as ever, she knew Arc had wanted her first meeting with them to go well.
Ina and Luc caught her attention as they twirled and swayed in the center of all the activity. Kassimeigh smiled, admiring the bliss that shone from the newlyweds. Rarely did she get to witness such pure happiness. She had never officiated at a wedding before, but nothing could have pleased her more than doing so for Luc and Ina.
She sensed someone behind her well before Will appeared at her side. He focused the full force of his smile on her and she immediately felt suspicious.
“Arc abandoned you, did he? Guess I’ll have to steal you.” He offered his hand and tipped his head toward the dance floor.
“I’m not really dressed for dancing such a fast, showy song.” She indicated her shoka and armor. Though she could certainly move in it, as it was perfectly functional for combat, it was not typical dance wear. She knew that no other justice, much less an elder, would dance a song like this in formal shoka. Which made her think maybe she should.
“Don’t care.” Will waggled the hand impatiently at her.
“Are you going to step all over my feet?” She dubiously took his hand.
“Nope. Prepare to be amazed.”
He led her to the dance space, faced off against her, and, to her surprise, put one hand on her shoulder and the other at her hip in a classic dancing close hold.
He noted her surprise and gave her a broad smile. “Try to keep up.” With that, he launched into a jazzy step pattern. Her surprise spiked upward. This was not a typical dance style for a wedding. It was for people with skills.
She followed his lead with h
er posture instinctively straight and strong—hips tucked, shoulders back, chest lifted. When they reached the end of the pattern, she took the lead and reversed it, creating a more complicated variation of the same dance. Now she got the satisfaction of seeing Will’s surprise, though he kept up with her without faltering. Then he pulled her in closer to him and doubled up the steps, counting two for every beat. He spun her out and pulled her back.
Kassimeigh couldn’t help laughing. Will really knew how to dance, and he was trying to outdo her. Which she really couldn’t allow. So when the tempo of the music increased, she launched into a footwork combination that included quick direction changes. Will didn’t quite match every step, but he did do an admirable job of staying with her. In spite of the fast pace, they glided smoothly across the dance floor. As the song’s windup began, he pulled her against him and dipped her back. His hand was at just the right place to support her, and the song ended with a flourish.
They were both laughing as Kassimeigh straightened. Will hugged her before releasing her and joining the other guests in applause.
“You never told me you could dance.” She squinted at him accusingly.
“Well, I can. My mom insisted I learn. Said it would catch me a girl someday.”
“Maybe it will. Thanks for the dance.” She opened her mouth to remark that he must have liked taking dance lessons to become so proficient, but Arc stepped close and spoke first.
“You’re a dancer,” he told her.
Will turned away in search of a new partner and Kassimeigh refocused on Arc. He was grinning with a light of discovery in his eyes.
“That was your thing,” he added.
She smoothed her hair away from her face with her fingers. “What thing?”