Keeper of the Heart

Chapter 37

The welcomings-home began the moment Falon and Shanelle walked into the hall. The emptiness of a few hours ago was now transformed to an overflow. Every table was laden with food, though every seat might not be occupied. But at least fifty warriors were making a very great deal of boisterous noise-still another difference from a reserved Kan-is-Tran warrior, who rarely raised his voice, even in private.

Shanelle was to learn that the gathering of such a crowd was a daily occurrence. But Ka’al was large enough to require a permanent body of guards, kind of like an army, yet without the regimen and discipline of an official army, or a mini-government, for these warriors saw to all aspects of authority in one way or another.

This was Shanelle’s first experience of the Ba-Har-ani as a group, and the first thing she noticed was that there wasn’t another golden-haired head in sight. There were some warriors with dark red hair, some with dark brown, but most with black. And all were as deeply bronzed as Falon, giving testimony to the hotter sun in this half of the hemisphere. In stark contrast, the freed slaves moving about the room were easily spotted with their ivory-white skin, if their scanty garb wasn’t enough to set them apart.

Someone should have told them they could now cover themselves. But perhaps the word hadn’t got around to all of them yet that they weren’t slaves anymore-or perhaps none of the women here wore tops, slave or not. What free women did wear hadn’t exactly been explained to Shanelle, and those bare breasts bobbing around the room weren’t exactly drawing any notice, since these warriors were so accustomed to the sight.

She was looking forward to meeting Falon’s sister, if only to see what the woman would be wearing. That was the only reason she was anticipating the meeting, however, now that she knew it wasn’t likely to be a pleasant one. But if Aurelet decided not to like her, Shanelle would just have to live with it. There was no way she could blame the poor woman for hating all visitors, and even half visitors, after what she had experienced at their hands.

Shanelle wished she could have kept that sentiment. For a day, for a few hours even. At least for more than ten minutes. But Aurelet Keedar was a surprise Shanelle wasn’t expecting, and not one she needed on her first day in Ka’al.

The woman entered the hall with her lifemate, Deamon, the two holding hands, smiling after the pleasant reunion they had just shared. And Aurelet was still smiling when she spotted Falon and hurried over to greet him with sisterly devotion.

“Deamon has told me you took a lifemate, Falon, but that teasing sa’abo would say nothing about her other than she is lovely. Indeed is she lovely,” Aurelet said as she turned her smile on Shanelle in full welcome.

Shanelle wasn’t expecting that, but then all sense of normalcy went right out the window at her first sight of Falon’s sister. She had his coloring, her black hair long and flowing down her back, her blue eyes as light as his. She was a few inches shorter than Shanelle, but that was barely noticeable, she bore herself so straight and proud. Then there were the surprises.

The woman wore bracs, white zaalskin bracs that had to be made expressly for her, for they molded to her legs as if they had been poured on. Green hoots matched the short green cape that denoted Deamon’s colors, and a gauzy white shirt was tucked into the bracs, with loosely flowing sleeves, a wide collar, and a deeply plunging neckline. But if the pants weren’t enough to shock Shanelle, the sword belt strapped to Aurelet’s hips certainly was, especially since there was a three-foot-long sword hanging from it.

Bracs were for the exclusive use of warriors, denied to Kan-is-Tran women. So was the use of any weapons. Aurelet wore both, and not a single warrior there told her to remove them. She was allowed their use. Obviously Ba-Har-ani women were allowed more freedom than Shanelle could have thought possible. She wasn’t displeased at this difference, she was absolutely delighted.

But she had no time to savor the prospect of that freedom for herself, for Falon was quick to drop his bomb. “Aurelet, I would have you meet Shanelle of the house of Ly-San-Ter.”

The woman immediately stiffened. “Do you tell me that is a common name in that country, Falon.”

“It is not.”

“Then she is related to Dalden Ly-San-Ter?”

“His sister.”

Aurelet actually paled. “No,” she began in a whisper that quickly rose in volume. “Tell me you did not join with the daughter of that bitch who brought the visitors here. Tell me you did not, Falon!”

“Now just a-” Shanelle began, but both siblings ignored her.

“It is done, Aurelet,” Falon told her. “Not to be undone merely because you object. She is my lifemate and is to be treated-”

Aurelet cut in furiously. “It was bad enough when that other came here, but he left. This one you would keep here? I will not have it!”

Falon was beginning to show signs of some definite impatience, if not actual anger. “You have no say in this matter.”

“Do I not? Does she stay in this house, I will challenge her!”

“By Droda, you… will… not!” he thundered. “You dare to dictate to me, sister, to give me an ultimatum? My lifemate stays no other place than with me!”

“Then she is challenged here and now!” Aurelet shouted just as loudly.

The silence that followed was awful. Every eye and ear in the room was fixed on this encounter, and why not? It wasn’t every day you saw a warrior, and a shodan at that, so angry he was crimson with it. Nor did you see a woman stand there and defy a warrior who was that mad. At least Shanelle had never seen it.

She was deathly pale herself. She hated confrontations of this sort. She’d been having one too many recently herself, and she couldn’t understand why that was, now that she thought of it, but this… these Ba-Har-ani were too emotional, and with so little control of those emotions. And she was seeing her lifemate truly furious for the first time, which she didn’t like at all. She would just as soon not have known Falon could get this angry.

She was wrong, however, in thinking he didn’t have any control over his anger. He had enough to be able to say, with less volume, though with no less menace, “I forbid it.”

Aurelet also lowered her tone considerably, but not to back down. In fact, she was looking pretty triumphant. “You cannot, brother. It is done, challenge issued.”

“I forbid my woman to accept, so is it ended.”

Aurelet’s blue eyes widened. “You would let her shame our house?”

“There is no shame when she is given no choice in this matter by her lifemate, and will she obey me as is proper. You, however, shame this house by wishing to fight a member of your own family.”

“Never will I accept a half-breed visitor as a member of this family! Sooner would I-”

“Deamon, take your woman from my sight before I claim the right to punish her myself.”

Aurelet did not go quietly, not by any means. Deamon was forced to carry her out of the hall, and her curses followed loudly in their wake.

Shanelle was relieved that it was over, but she was still shaken by such animosity. She’d never had anyone hate her before, except perhaps Lanar. But who could tell what had motivated that strange Sunderian? With Aurelet there was no doubt. She definitely hated.

With the previous noise level returned to the hall, Shanelle felt it safe to finally say something, but she couldn’t imagine what prompted her to say to Falon, “You have these little family squabbles all the time?”

“I am sorry. I am pleased you can jest about it, but truly am I sorry.”

She was then engulfed by yet another difference in the Ba-Har-ani. These warriors felt no qualms about hugging in public.

“Maybe you should have just let me accept her challenge and get it over with,” Shanelle said. “It wouldn’t have taken very long, and then she might at least back off from all that name-calling.”

The squeeze that suggestion got her forced a gasp out of her. The fierceness in his voice almost brought on another gasp.

“Do not speak foolishness, woman. My sister excels at female swordsmanship. There are none here in Ka’al who can best her.”

“Stars, why didn’t you say so? What was her intent, then, just to humiliate me?”

Falon leaned back to frown at her. “Does killing not occur to you?”

“Oh, come on, she’s a woman,” she scoffed. “And most challenges aren’t fought to the death when a challenge loss is much more satisfying.”

“For a warrior, perhaps, yet has Aurelet killed before,” he replied. “She has too much hate in her for her not to try to kill you.”

“Well, then, I suppose I should thank you for forbidding me to accept.”

“Indeed,” he said wryly.

“Just how many warriors has she beaten, anyway?”

“None.”

“But you said she was the best in Ka’al,” Shanelle reminded him.

“The best at female swordsmanship. Our women do not challenge warriors they cannot hope to beat.”

“Then why do you allow them the use of swords at all?” she asked.

“Occasionally are we raided by the Mal-Niki from the north.”

“Let me guess,” she said dryly. “The Mal-Niki aren’t too handy with swords.”

“This is so.”

“All right, so a woman can protect herself pretty well in that case,” she allowed. “But now tell me why you call it female swordsmanship.”

“Because it is a different style of fighting. It allows women some small chance of withstanding a warrior’s greater strength and skill.”

“But not much chance against Ba-Har-ani warriors, I take it?”

“No.”

“Then maybe you should know I fight like a-”

“Woman, I will hear no more about accepting challenge. Do you wish to fight, you may fight me. Only then can I be assured you will not get hurt.”

“Oh, cute, real cute. I’ll accept that offer when I’m a hundred and four, and not a day sooner, thank you. Now, is it your intention to starve me, or can we stop being the center of attention here and get something to eat?”