Authors: Dara Joy

Rital of Proof (41 page)

"I grow weary of this play, Jorlan. Let us end it."

"You want me to present my neck to you for slicing?"

She grinned evilly. "I promise to be quick."

"Now, why don't I believe that?" He saw a small opening and lunged fast, snapping her meteor-blade from her grip with a powerful twist of his arm.

Claudine staggered back, stunned he had been able to do it.

"As you have said, let us end this now, shall we? I will give you quarter on one condition... "

Claudine smirked. "Aren't you forgetting something?" Her hands went to the curve-blades at her waists, pulling them from their sheaths. "There will be only one left here tonight, my fiery ex-veil. And it will be me."

"Aren't
you
forgetting something?"

Claudine looked puzzled for an instant. Until she saw him tie the meteor-blade he had taken from her around his other wrist.

She snorted. "No one wields two blades! No one except a Golden Master, and they say she is myth; the secret warrior, ultimately wise in the ways of the Gle Kiang-ten!"

"Really." He began to spin the dual blades out, crisscrossing them in the air.

"They say she quietly guides us in
woman wisdom,
that her strength is unmatched for it is a strength born of knowing when to stand down and when to fight. It cannot be you!"

"I never said it was." The hammers snapped and he prepared for his ultimate strike. "Perhaps you thought it would be you?"

He had guessed correctly. Enraged, Claudine lunged toward him with curved blades, dicing a killing path.

She sliced one of his hammers before the second one| found its mark and sunk down deep into her back, slicing her open from neck to waist.

Jorlan wrested the other blade from her; catching her in his arms before she fell.

He was not happy in the killing. He was the first male in over a thousand Forus years to spill blood. "What makes you hate Green so?" he whispered more to himself than anything.

With her last bit of strength Claudine D'anbere opened her eyes. Lips curving sardonically, she uttered her final words.
"Hate her? Foolish... petal... what... ever... makes... you... think
...
I
...
hate... her?"

Stunned, Jorlan rested her body on the ground, not even wanting to think of the implications of her words.

A slight rustling behind him caused him to spin on his heels, hand clutching his weapon.

A glow of flamelight illuminated a small face staring silently at the body on the ground.

The girl, a beautiful child of about twelve, with long, black hair and gray eyes.
Claudine's daughter.

She looked at him with luminous gray eyes, eyes that were bright with shock and revulsion. Jorlan swallowed. He hadn't known Claudine had a daughter. The girl had seen her mother die in his arms. He reached out a hand to offer her some comfort.

With a sob, she turned and ran into the night.

His shoulders slumped in sorrow.

The girl had heard her mother's confession, of that he was certain. He remembered her small gasp of horror. She was a witness who would either view this incident as heinous crime or just punishment. What would she do to him?

It didn't matter. Green and Arkeus were safe.

On his return to Tamryn House Jorlan found the leaf of a special plant he had been searching for.

He pressed it under his shirt.

It stopped the flow of blood on his arm almost instantly. By the time he entered his bedchamber, the wound had healed as if it had never been.

Discarding his clothes, he slipped silently between the silken covers.

Green was still sound asleep.

Avatar would not be awakening her at dawn. Gathering her close in his arms, he fell into a troubled sleep.

"Did you hear about She-Count D'anbere?" Mathers fussed around Jorlan, spooning him a nice cup of snogglehound pudding.

"No, I haven't. Although I know that Green was not called to the duel." His hand covered his name-giver's on the table.

She smiled at him, answering for Mathers. "She was found dead in her gardens. They say there was an eyewitness."

Jorlan swallowed, and softly cleared his throat. "Yes?"

"It seems the She-Count was practicing forms in the
garden when the blades snapped back and sliced into her back."

Jorlan tried not to exhale too loudly.

"Nasty things, them meteor-blades. Can't stand them myself." Mathers shuddered.

"Nothing wrong with a good blade!" Avatar harrumphed as she chucked Hugo a clump of pudding. The snogglehound gulped it in midair, doing a stupid little flip of ecstasy. The pudding hadn't been named after them for nothing.

"Tell that to the unfortunate She-Count." Jorlan gazed down at his plate.

"Unfortunate?" Mathers sputtered. "I say it was providence! That hateful snip-butt. I thank the Founder that my Lordene is safe!" Mathers dabbed her eyes with the edge of the table covering causing Avatar to frown.

"I can't say I'm sorry that I don't have to face her," Green said softly. "I suppose I owe that meteor-blade a debt of gratitude for surely, in its action, it protected my family. If someone had actually been wielding the weapon, I would have to thank that person as well for showing such courage."

Jorlan glanced at her out of the corner of his eye but said nothing. He went back to eating his pudding.

"Who's the witness?" Avatar asked.

"D'anbere's own daughter." Mathers answered. She placed a snuffle treat in front of Arkeus, who gurgled gleefully before picking it up and sticking it in his ear.

Frowning at the untimely morning sweet—and wondering how she was going to stop Mathers from ruining her son—Green righted the baby's hand and guided it to his mouth. Aqua eyes rounded as the delicious taste reached his Sensitive senses.

He gurgled appreciatively.

Green chuckled. His father's son, all right.

Avatar choked on her limo juice. "D'anbere's daughter? What a terrible thing for a young woman to witness!"

"Yes, it was. The girl claims the mother got her out of bed to make her watch her practice with her meteor-blade." Mathers shook her head. "They say D'anbere never let up on the poor girl. Now she's disappeared and no one can seem to find her. They think she took off to the Western Regions—a caravan guide claims she saw someone answering the girl's description riding alone and heading west. She thought it was odd and called out to her, but the child ignored her and raced off."

"By herself?" Green frowned. "That's a very dangerous trip for such a young girl."

"For anyone. What's more, the Septibunal received a signed confession this morning from that snip-butt Opper. Seems D'anbere had a hand in that, as well! Horrible business whichever way you look at it. At least her child will be allowed to retain her titles and lands, although there's no telling how she's been affected by all this, or if she'll ever return to claim them." Mathers picked up a tray and bustled out of the room.

Jorlan exhaled a sigh of relief.
The girl did not turn him in.
He owed her for that. He wished there was some way he could repay her—but he knew there was not. Although he had no regrets about what had happened with Claudine, he did regret that the girl had witnessed her mother's confession and death. He prayed she would be all right.

He leaned over and brushed some crumbs off the baby's chin. His son gave him a dreamy look as he valiantly tried to keep his eyes open. Jorlan smiled lovingly at him. Arkeus was about to nod off. Sometimes overstimulation of the senses did that to Sensitives. It appeared the fine taste of snuffle treat was a bit too overwhelming for his newborn palate.

"Well, Marquelle, I think I'll go check out our supplies." Avatar stood. "You never can tell when we'll need something at the marketplace." She winked at Green and left the room.

Green snickered. She knew the old girl was off to meet the Reynard kitchenkeeper again.

Suddenly, the room seemed unnaturally quiet. Green noticed that Arkeus had nodded off abruptly and Jorlan was silently eating his meal.

She spoke into the stillness of the room. "Thank you, my blaze-dragon."

He gazed at her with lids half lowered. "For what?"

She returned his circumspect look with a knowledgeable one of her own. "For who you are. For giving yourself fully to this fastening. For being so much more than just a name-bearer. For your love. And most of all for your strength."

Still, he waited. Waited for something more. Green reached for his hand, interlocking her fingers with his. "You are truly my other half, Jorlan, and I could never live without you."

At last.
With those few words, she had given him the most priceless gift on Forus moon!
An acknowledgment of his equality.

His aqua eyes shined so brilliantly they lit up her soul.

green tamRyn moved with controlled precision.

Inner strength guided the secret sequence of her forms, creating a heroic abstraction across paving stone.

The hushed movements in low predawn light mimicked the rustle of wind as everyone in the house lay sleeping.

This was the best time, this quiet time. It was her time to renew vision. It was her time to clear the mind.

It was the best time for reassessments.

With a deadly snap, the dual meteor-blades echoed through the trees. Expertly slung, their fatal trajectories gathered speed and momentum in the classic stance of Gle Kiang-ten. Corded ropes arced and spun out. Like lovers, they moved together as the first rays of day crested the horizon.

The perimeter rustled, sighing to the same pulse-beat. Flora quivered with expectation as dawn approached, heralding the majesty of simply being alive.

Forus Morningsong.

Sung with the perfect symmetry of a Golden Master.

She was the shadow.

She was the weapon.

She was the wind that could change.

Over and over the rite went, building into a dance of mortal beauty. Swaying. Dipping. Twirling. Leaping. The expertise had never been simply in the execution of the forms, but in the form of the execution.

She was not connected to Forus, but to a parallel wisdom, springing from its source. Her hidden dance was in the knowledge of when to step and when to pause.

When to fight and when to wait.

And when to let others finish the round for the good of the entire event.

All had turned out as she had hoped.

The threat was gone. Passion had been revealed. Pride was restored. A new life had come to bring joy. And, unexpectedly, an ancient love had finally revealed itself to all of its children.

Still, there was another out there, not yet revealed...

And Arkeus was about to rise.

So the Marquelle of Tamryn prepared to listen to this coming aurora, no matter its sound.

For she was a woman first, with a heart of fire and the wisdom to know that the dance we follow is ever our true ritual of proof.

And it can never be held in the court of any land. Just in the court of our higher selves.

Nouveau Regency Glossary

Afterburn—
refers to sexual prowess, i.e., "She has quite an afterburn."

Airscreen—
projected real-time holographic screen from a wristview.

AL
—after landing; refers to the date, i.e., 318
AL

Almacks, the Later—
famous Top Slice club in
Capitol
Town
.

Ancestresses—
foremothers.

arc storm—
severe Forus electrical storm.