Part 32 (1/2)

”You, too, Mitch.e.l.la,” T'Ash chided.

”And merry part,” Mitch.e.l.la said.

”And merry meet again,” T'Ash said and ended the call.

”Well,” Mitch.e.l.la whooshed out a breath, still looking at the place where T'Ash's image had formed. ”I suppose he's finally forgiven me for telling him that Danith was sterile.”

”You did that! Cruel.”

She whipped around to face him, poked a finger in his chest. ”You FirstFamily Lords are complex men, hard work. He was exhausting Danith with his moods. He made her cry.” She set her shoulders back. ”No one makes my best friend cry without answering to me.” She shook her head. ”And I've forgiven him for flinging me across town to Danith's house in a rage.”

”I had no idea you had this interesting past,” Straif said, and kissed her briefly on her mouth, sweeping his tongue over her lips, and she tasted the essence of him, sage.

Mitch.e.l.la found a smile on her face. ”You and Winterberry. With all that help, Antenn is sure to be found.”

”Right.”

Closing her eyes, she tested the bond she had with the child of her heart. ”He's resentful, and proud, and feeling snotty, but he's fine. Pinky is with him, excited at the adventure. Glad he's away from Drina.” The horse trotted and Mitch.e.l.la winced. ”Though according to what Danith's told me about riding horses, he's going to be very sore this evening.” She opened her eyes.

Straif held out his hand, and a tube of Flaired liniment smacked into it. ”I'd better pack this, then.”

He slanted her a look. ”Since you have bonds with Antenn and me, bonds that should stay strong over a long distance, you'll be able to send to me immediately if he's in danger.”

”I'll do that.” She placed her hands on his chest, liking the solidity of him, his steady heartbeat. ”You're a good man, Straif T'Blackthorn.” They stood like that for a moment until he pulled away, folded over the saddlebag flap, buckled it shut, and said a Word to keep it fastened and safe.

Mitch.e.l.la saw a worn roll of celtaroon about the length of her hand still on his desk. ”Wait, you've forgotten this.” She picked it up and heard metal clinking, and knew it was his whittling tools. They stared at each other, remembering the names incised in the ballroom floor. Hurt throbbed from him to her.

She took his hand and put the roll in it. ”Why don't you carve something for me while you're on the trail? Something you see along the way that will show a city girl like me a little of the wild.”

He turned the roll over in his hands, straightened the tie that circled it, must have felt her question at the lack of Flair spells. ”If I can't untie the cord with my fingers, they're no good for carving. If I can't protect and take care of my whittling knives, I'm not much of a man.” He smiled wryly. ”My G'Uncle Prunus told me that when he gave me these. They were my first set.”

Antenn had had Mitch.e.l.la work personally on the edge of the floor that contained the names, so she knew Prunus was a name that had been cut deeply into the wood.

”A wonderful gift for a boy. One that would continue to give him pleasure.”

Straif's eyes went dark blue. ”Yes.” He opened the saddlebag and placed the celtaroon roll on the top. ”Would you like an animal or plant?” he asked briskly, slipping the saddlebag over his shoulder, picking up an extra survivalsleeper, and setting a wide-brimmed hat on his head.

”Surprise me.” She kissed him, curved her hands around his face, and sought the most sacred feeling she had within her, the speck of herself that connected to the Lady during rituals. Then she stepped back. ”Blessings on you, Straif T'Blackthorn.”

He ducked his head, accepting the sparkling white light that accompanied her words.

Then he hauled her into his arms again and took her mouth, opening her lips, darting his tongue past her teeth, exploring her entirely. She yielded to his need.

”Promise me you'll stay inside the estate's s.h.i.+elds.”

Finally he broke the kiss. ”I promise.”

”Good.” He strode from the room. She followed him to the Grand Hall and out the door. There, waiting patiently on the gra.s.sdrive at the bottom of the steps, was Winterberry, mounted on the most beautiful stridebeast Mitch.e.l.la had ever seen, hardly s.h.a.ggy at all, and it appeared fast. Winterberry's traveling leathers were immaculate.

Straif eyed Winterberry and grunted, then studied the stridebeasts and whistled. ”Someone has influence with Caprea Sallow.”

”Danith D'Ash,” Winterberry grinned, as if very pleased to be so well mounted himself.

”No one involved with animals refuses Danith anything.” Mitch.e.l.la smiled, pleased and comforted at the thought of her friend providing for her and Antenn.

”Greetyou, GentleLady Clover,” Winterberry said.

”Blessings to you, Winterberry. My deepest thanks for your help.”

Winterberry shook his head. ”The Councils want me to keep an eye on him.” He jerked his head toward Straif, who was introducing himself to the stridebeasts.

”You'll be handy to have around,” Straif said. ”If you don't mind getting those leathers dirty.”

”They're bespelled,” Winterberry said calmly.

Straif settled the saddlebags and survivalsleeper on his stridebeast, and mounted. ”We'll bring Antenn back safe and sound.” It rang like a vow of honor.

He waved, circled his mount, and took off, racing down the gra.s.sdrive.

Winterberry looked pained, dipped his head to Mitch.e.l.la, then tore off after Straif.

A few instants later, the T'Blackthorn gates clanged open. Then shut.

The males she loved most in her life, Straif and Antenn, were gone.

She turned and saw the cook staring after the men, frowning deeply.

Twenty-five.

As they rode along the wall of his estate, Straif became aware of a young dog fox keeping pace.

Greet-you males of the hu-man, it said. You fol-low the scent of the kit-male of the hu-man and the kit-male of the fe-line.

Winterberry threw it a startled look. Straif slowed his stridebeast to a walk. That is so, he replied to the fox, and knew the guardsman heard the mental conversation.

I want an ad-ven-ture. I would like to go with you. The fox's eyes held humor. He looked as if he smiled.

I would be honored, Straif said. But we go to the rocky and wooded mountains with much danger.

I will go, too. The fox barked. He looked at Winterberry. And you, male-hu-man-who-pro-tects?

I, too, would be honored, male of the vulpes, said Winterberry.