Keeper of the Heart

by Johanna Lindsey

  “Where I go is none of your—”

  “Answer!”

  “Dammit, I won’t! Where do you get off—”

  “I liked your white cloak better,” he interrupted again, fingering her garment, leading their conversation in a new direction. “It was not mine, yet was it my color.”

  She snatched the material from his fingers, glaring at him. “I told you I would never wear white again.”

  “You will,” he said with supreme confidence. “You will wear my colors and be glad of them. The day will come when you will want everyone to know that you are mine.”

  She turned ashen. “You’ve spoken to my father, haven’t you?”

  “Not yet.”

  Both color and relief flooded her face. “Don’t. I mean it, Falon. You wouldn’t be happy with me as a lifemate. I would make you miserable because you won’t be able to help making me miserable.”

  “It distresses me that you think so, kerima.”

  Was he joking? She wondered. “I don’t just think it, I know it.”

  “Tell me why and I will correct you in the matter.”

  She stared at him incredulously. He had to be joking this time.

  “Are you going to tell me you’re not a slaveholder? That you’re not a warrior? That you Bar-Harani don’t punish your women for every little thing they do wrong? Are you going to tell me you aren’t inflexible, aren’t hotheaded—”

  “Enough!” he said, his tone blasting her with heat. “You will come to love me despite all of your objections.”

  “I see I forgot to add arrogance to the list.”

  He frowned at her sarcastic tone. “You are in definite need of a lesson in the proper respect due a warrior. This will be seen to when you are mine.”

  She refused to be intimidated by threats based on “when.”

  “Now there’s a classic example of why I don’t want you, Falon. I’m not yours yet, but you’re already planning on punishing me.”

  Even more disgruntlement entered his expression. “Your father should be told he has been neglectful in that area.”

  He had managed to intimidate her after all. Her father’s punishments were mild compared with Falon’s, but she didn’t care to spend the next week peeling falaa in the kitchens. On the other hand, the odor of falaa was so unpleasant and strong, it permeated the clothes and skin with the same scent, so that the peeler was definitely avoided until she’d had a thorough scrubbing. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Shanelle grinned, imagining Falon taking one whiff of her and running in the other direction.

  He mistook her amusement, asking, “You do not think I would tell him?”

  “Actually, I wish you would. It will be interesting to see what you do with your time when I’m not around for you to bother.”

  “What in Droda’s name would your father do to you?”

  She burst into laughter. She couldn’t help it, he looked so appalled. “What do you think he would do to me for such a minor offense—and I say minor, warrior, because whatever disrespect I show you, you provoke. I’m usually much better mannered.”

  “You tease me, I think.”

  “Fat chance,” she snorted. “Who would dare?”

  “You would. You no longer find me so formidable.”

  He seemed pleased by that observation. Shanelle wasn’t. What was wrong with her, standing here bantering with him as if they were lovers?

  “Now who’s teasing?” she said, and a stiffness had entered her tone. “You’re about as formidable as they come.”

  He sighed. “I preferred it when you laughed, kerima. What has changed your mood? You had begun to soften toward me—”

  “I did no such thing,” she cut in indignantly. “Weren’t you listening earlier, when I told you all the reasons why I will never soften toward you?”

  “It is only your fear of me that concerns me. The rest will not matter when you are assured that I will never hurt you again.”

  All she could do was to stare at him wide-eyed. He really believed that. Conviction was written all over his face. Talk about one-sided logic. But what should she expect from a warrior?

  “That tears it,” she said finally. “Let me pass already, Falon, or I’m going to find out if I actually learned anything in my downing classes.”

  The cage opened. She was almost disappointed. It would have been immensely satisfying to see his expression if she could have flipped him onto his backside. Of course, the key word was if.

  “So you can be reasona—?” she started to say but then gasped as she was drawn up against his chest and soundly kissed. When she was set back on her feet a few minutes later, her legs barely supported her. Falon, watching her closely, was now grinning.

  “I will escort you to the competitions,” he said, so nonchalantly you’d think he hadn’t just set her on her ear. “I want you to watch me fight.”

  “No,” was all she could manage to say at first, but then she threw some ice on the fire he’d just lit and added, “I will be watching the visitor arenas until the end of the competitions. After all, the only reason I went with you to your tent yesterday was because I thought you were a visitor. I still mean to find one who will suit me—”

  “If you do so, I will have to kill him.”

  That bald statement made Shanelle so furious, she was rendered speechless. Dren and Yari chose that moment to come around the corner.

  One look at Shanelle’s fiery expression and Falon’s stormy one, and Dren thoughtlessly asked, “Do you need assistance, Shani?”

  She had to give Dren credit for not being a complete idiot, because he didn’t actually realize what he was offering until after he’d said it. He then turned three shades of white, which was not surprising, since the top of his head barely reached Falon’s shoulders. But Falon didn’t even glance at the male Kystrani, who he considered beneath his notice.

  That, unfortunately, didn’t relieve poor Dren, so Shanelle quickly assured him, “No, Shodan Van’yer and I were just discussing a few of the differences between his country and mine. I believe they’re so used to owning slaves that they think they can put the stamp of ownership on anyone they please. Things don’t work that way around here, and the shodan would do well to remember that.”

  All Falon said to that before leaving was, “Best you remember my warning, woman, else will you not like the results.”

  Chapter 19

  Shanelle began to think that something she had said to Falon had finally got through to him when that day passed into the next and he still hadn’t asked her father for her. He got involved with the competitions instead, so involved it was as if he’d forgotten all about her.

  She watched him fight from afar, though she’d told him she wouldn’t. And she hadn’t intended to, particularly after his parting threat. She hadn’t intended to get anywhere near him ever again. But it was almost a compulsion to watch him do what warriors do best that made her seek him out. She knew it was foolishness on her part. But she took precautions, staying well back from whichever arena he was fighting in—but not so far back that she couldn’t see him. However, not once did he notice her, or even seem to look for her in the crowd when he wasn’t fighting. And when he was, his concentration was so firmly fixed on his opponents, she probably could have stood right at his arena and not gained his attention.

  Today she got bolder, but then today the competitions would end, and her father had requested that she join him and Tedra at his pavilion for the finals. The eliminations had finished that morning. The eight warriors who were still undefeated at swords, and who had lost no more than one of the other contests of skill, would now fight in pairs before the shodan until only four remained, then two, then the champion of all. Falon was one of those eight finalists.

  Shanelle was not surprised, not after watching how skillfully he had fought yesterday with swords. And he hadn’t lost at any of the other contests either. And as long as she stayed near her parents, she wasn’t too worried about Fa
lon’s saying anything of a personal nature to her if he did approach her. He didn’t. Even while he awaited his turn to fight, he didn’t. And the one time he did look her way, he didn’t acknowledge her at all.

  She began to think he’d changed his mind about asking her father for her. Perhaps he really had finally taken her rejection to heart. Of course, he could still be so angry at that last taunt she’d thrown at him that he felt it prudent not to approach her until he calmed down a little. But somehow she doubted that was the cause of what seemed to her more like indifference now.

  And then his name was called to enter the arena, and she didn’t think about anything other than the match about to take place.

  “You aren’t worried about him getting hurt, are you?” Tedra came by her side to ask.

  “Certainly not.”

  But blood had been spilled in these contests. The swords used were blunted, but they were still deadly weapons. And although the object was merely to disarm, not to cut and maim, accidents were inevitable—and Shanelle’s “Certainly not” was a big fat lie.

  Tedra knew that, which was why she said, “I’m glad to hear it, because it would be a pure waste of time worrying about someone that good with a sword. He knows he’s going to win. That kind of confidence tends to make it happen. I could almost wish he’d lose. The man doesn’t deserve to get everything he goes after.”

  Shanelle stiffened. “Has father—?”

  “No, not yet. But I’m afraid the question is going to be asked before the day is over, and I’m also afraid your father has already made up his mind. I can’t imagine why, but he likes your young man.”

  “Then I’ll have to leave,” Shanelle said in a small voice, her shoulders slumping.

  “Don’t worry about it, Shani.”

  Shanelle misunderstood, thinking her mother was merely going to try and talk Challen out of giving his approval. But she couldn’t afford to take that risk, couldn’t afford to be anywhere near Falon if Tedra failed and he got Challen’s blessing anyway.

  “Mother, you know that with father’s approval, all Falon has to do is say the words within my hearing and we will be joined for life, whether I want it or not. And once he says the words, I’ll be his as far as he and anyone else are concerned. You know how damned easy it is. Father joined his life to yours and you didn’t even know it.”

  “I know.” Tedra couldn’t help grinning as she remembered how ignorant she had been of Sha-Ka’ani customs at the time. “But I told you not to worry. I’ll be there to know if Falon gets the permission he needs to say those words. And Martha is already alerted, so don’t be surprised if you suddenly find yourself on the Rover.”

  Shanelle’s throat constricted painfully. She had said she would do it. Hadn’t she just spent nearly a year learning how to pilot deep-space ships for just this possibility, even being prepared to steal one if necessary? She had had every intention of going off on her own if her father chose a man for her whom she couldn’t accept. But deep down, she had hoped she wouldn’t have to.

  “Does father know I don’t want Falon?”

  Tedra put an arm around her waist and asked gently, “Are you willing to tell him why you don’t?”

  Shanelle paled, knowing her mother wasn’t speaking of all her reasons, just the particular one that her father wouldn’t want to hear about, since it couldn’t be explained without admitting she was no longer a virgin. She would rather Challen be angry with her for leaving than disappointed in her for giving up her innocence before she had a lifemate. And it was so ridiculous for her to feel that way, especially when she had given it up without a qualm. But again, deep down she had hoped her father would never have to know, that the man she gave her first time to would earn Challen’s approval and end up her lifemate. Well, it looked like he was going to gain Challen’s approval. But he’d lost hers.

  Shanelle shook her head in answer, so Tedra said, “I’ll make sure he knows about the rest of your objections at least, though I honestly don’t think it will make much difference at this point—unless one of the other warriors has caught your interest. Perhaps one of these finalists?”

  Shanelle’s expression turned sour. “If I wanted to end up with a warrior, it might as well be Falon. At least he still... makes me wish he weren’t a warrior.”

  Just barely, Tedra managed to keep from grinning over that hesitation, and she had no business finding any humor in this situation. “That’s what I figured, so like I said, Shani, be prepared for a quick exit. You might want to say good-bye to your friends now.”

  Shanelle’s eyes widened. “Stars, I forgot all about Caris and the others!”

  “Martha didn’t. She’s already made arrangements with the Visitor’s Center to return them to Kystran on one of the ships that will be leaving in a few days. And I’ll make sure they’re on it.” If she wasn’t chained to a wall for her part in Shanelle’s departure.

  But Tedra was trying not to think about the punishments her beloved barbarian was going to dump on her as soon as he realized his daughter was gone. That warrior took such things seriously, saw it as his duty. Farden hell. You’d think after twenty years she would have figured out a way to avoid that aspect of Sha-Ka’ani life—other than by being good all the time.

  Shanelle’s gasp drew her back to what was happening in the arena, and Tedra winced as Falon hit the ground hard, having been knocked off his feet. His opponent’s sword followed in a full swing to knock Falon’s upraised sword out of his hand, but the Ba-Har-ani lowered his weapon, the other sword passed over him without striking metal, and Falon rolled until he had room to get back on his feet. The match continued normally then, with each man banging away at the other’s weapon. Falon hadn’t been in any danger, only of losing the match, but to see Shanelle’s pallor, you’d think he’d sustained a mortal wound.

  “He’s tired,” Shanelle said so softly Tedra had to lean close to hear it. “He fought all morning long, all day yesterday.”

  “His opponent is just as tired,” Tedra pointed out.

  “But that other warrior is bigger. I don’t know how Falon has gotten this far. His sword arm has to be about ready to give out.”

  Both warriors’ arms were taking a good deal of brutal punishment. But then most warriors had arms like tree trunks. These two were no different.

  “You want him to win, don’t you?” Tedra stated the obvious.

  “Well, he’s come this far.”

  “You don’t have to sound defensive, baby. But haven’t you figured out yet why he’s fighting?”

  With a slight blush, Shanelle said, “The other day it was to impress me.”

  “I’m sure it was, but that’s not his reason now. Now he fights for you. It’s your father he’s trying to impress, because he knows how much importance is placed on a warrior’s ability to protect his lifemate. He’s using this competition to prove to Challen that he’s the best choice.”

  Shanelle snorted. “I’m surprised father didn’t think of that.”

  “What?”

  “To use these competitions as a means of finding me a lifemate. It’s a good thing all these other warriors don’t know I’m available.”

  Tedra nearly choked. Fortunately she didn’t have to reply. A sword went flying at that moment to skid across the grass. Falon was still holding his.

  “Your restraint is commendable, Shani,” Tedra remarked dryly.

  “No, you were right. Being champion of them all does just about guarantee him father’s blessing.”

  “Well, he hasn’t quite reached that point yet. The champion of the visitors still has the option to fight him.”

  Even as Tedra said it, the visitor who had excelled in marksmanship, speed, and dexterity was declining, with a good deal of humor, a chance to fight a warrior. He was five feet eight, and slim as a gaali-stone post. The mere thought of him wielding a sword against a Sha-Ka’ani was absurd. But another visitor didn’t think so.

  Shanelle tensed as the High King of Century
III arrogantly stepped forward with his retinue to demand an opportunity to best the champion. Challen didn’t seem pleased. Neither was the crowd that was close enough to hear. Shanelle moved closer herself to catch her father’s reply.

  “The competitions are over.”

  “My intention was declared in advance,” Jorran pointed out calmly.

  “An intention disallowed by the rules,” Challen replied. “This you were told.”

  “Rules do not apply to High Kings, shodan,” the rotund Alrid announced haughtily. “Nor can our king be expected to compete with commoners. Jorran is willing to fight your champion. That should be enough.”

  Shanelle bit her lip to keep from grinning. The nobles from Century III had no way of knowing, for the signs weren’t visible to anyone who didn’t know him, but her father was no longer merely displeased, he was now offended as well, and that was grounds for issuing challenge that the average warrior wouldn’t hesitate to do. A shodan, however, being the leader as well as an example to so many, had to show more restraint. He could accept challenge no matter the reason, but the insult had to be personal and deadly before he would issue one himself. Shanelle wondered if a Ba-Har-ani shodan was shackled by the same principles. Likely not, since Falon had already offered to fight Corth for an unacceptable reason, and had promised to kill any visitor whom she set her sights on, though she wasn’t sure if he really meant that, or had said it only in anger.

  Challen now ignored Alrid to tell the High King, “The warrior you wish to fight has stature here equal to yours on your planet.”

  “Excellent,” Jorran replied. “Then I do not feel the effort is so far beneath—”

  “Best you say no more,” Challen cut him off. “Or you will have a number of true challenges to deal with before you depart our planet. As for your wish to enter the arena though the competitions are ended, such can be decided only by he who is the declared champion. And Shodan Van’yer is under no obligation to agree to another match, yet is the choice his to make.”

  Falon laughed at that point. “And I thought the rules would disallow me the pleasure.”