The Shapechangers (20 page)

The glory had gone. Only in her dreams did she recall the richness of Homana-Mujhar and the fine glittering city surrounding its rose-colored walls. Her days left her no time to think, for the hours were filled with Raissa’s words as she taught Alix the customs she must know. Her hands were never still; she needs must learn how to weave a tapestry, how to tend two fires at once, how to cook Cheysuli dishes…and how to prepare herself to take a
cheysul.
The
shar tahl
had yet to see her personally but Raissa said there was no need; the man spent his time researching the birthlines to trace her history and ancestors so that no one could question her birth.

They bind me…
she thought.
They seek to bind me tightly within the coils of their prophecy, so I have no choice but to do as they wish.

Alix smoothed the soft wool over her knees, fingering the nap. She had been shocked to find the skill so evident in Cheysuli craftsmanship. She had grown up believing them little better than barbarians without the niceties of Homanan culture and crafts, but five days with the clan had already altered her perceptions.
Their fabrics were close-woven and fine, dyed muted shades of every color and often beaded with semi-precious stones or brightened with gleaming metals.

And the jewelry…
Alix realized even the finest of Mujhara’s goldsmiths could not match the skill of Cheysuli craftsmanship. The warriors wore thick
lir
-bands on their arms and a single earring, but their talents stretched farther than that. Already Alix had seen small casks filled with delicate ornaments fit to bedeck any king or queen.

A strange thing
…she thought,
that a race so dedicated to war can also make such delicate, beautiful things.

The hands came over her shoulders and rested there, one thumb caressing her neck. The intimacy of the touch brought home all the longing she felt for Duncan, for he had not seen her except in passing. Alix lowered her head and stared blindly at the leaf-carpeted ground, wishing Duncan would not play with her emotions so.

“I have missed you,” he said.

Alix stiffened and spun out from under the hands, leaping up and stumbling away. Finn’s hands slowly dropped back to his sides.

Her breath came harshly, whistling through her constricted throat. One hand spread across her neck, guarding it; the other tangled itself in her skirts.

“What is it you want of me?” she asked.

Finn’s lips twitched. “That, I think, you know already.”

Alix lowered her hand and stood stiffly before him. “Why have you come?”

“To speak with you.” He sat down on her deserted stump and stretched out his legs. Thigh muscles bunched and rolled beneath the snug fit of his leather leggings. His face still bore the thread of pinkish scar tissue over one black eyebrow.

“What would you and I have to speak about?”

“You and I,” he said quietly.

Alix frowned at him. “I do not understand.”

Finn sighed and gestured. “I will not leap on you,
meijha
, I promise. But I cannot speak to you if you persist in being so frightened of me. Your eyes are like those of a doe when facing a hunter.” He smiled. “Sit, if you will.”

Alix hesitated, still defiant before him, but she was caught by the lightness in his tone. He had shed the ironic mocking she hated so much. Carefully she settled down in the leaves and spread her skirts around her folded legs.

“Council has been called for this night.”

She felt blood leave her face. “Council…”

“At sunset.”

“What is the subject of it?”

“All manner of things; many of which concern you.”

Alix bit at her lip. “I thought it might be that.”

“I have come to save you some trouble.”

Her chin lifted. “You do not save trouble, Finn; you make it.”

He had the grace to color. “For you…perhaps I did. I admit it.” He smiled crookedly. “But admitting is not an apology, and I will never apologize for following my judgment.”

Alix stared at him, growing more baffled by the moment. “Finn, you had best be plain with me.”

He pulled his legs in and sat upright on the stump. “You did not conceive.”

Heat coursed through her face as she went rigid. “What do
you
know of it?”

His eyes were amused, though he did not laugh at her. “Among the Cheysuli such things are not kept locked behind doors. We are too few to look upon it as a woman’s mystery. It is a reason to rejoice, Alix, when a Cheysuli woman has conceived.” He paused as she stared hard at the ground. “Raissa told me when I asked this morning. There is no child.”

“Raissa had no right to tell you anything, nor you the right to ask.”

“I had every right. I intend to ask for your clan-rights in Council this night.”

Alix’s head jerked up. “No!”

“Duncan will not have you,” he said ruthlessly. “That has been made plain to all of us. He will take Malina, as he has ever intended. There is no hope left to you.”

“There is ever hope,” she said fiercely, though she knew he was right.

He moved off the stump and knelt in the leaves before her, catching her hands before she could escape his closeness.

“You have said you will be no man’s
meijha.
That is your Homanan blood speaking, but I will respect it. I am not entirely blind to your needs, Alix.” He smiled at her ironically. “I will sacrifice a part of my freedom.”

She tried to break free of his clasping hands but could not. Once again she felt helpless, trapped, and the familiar fright rose up. She knelt before him, trembling, hands icy cold in the warmth of his.

“Finn…I cannot. There can never be peace between us. You made that impossible from the very first day. I would hardly be a docile, accommodating
cheysula.
”

His grin flashed. “If I wanted that sort of
cheysula
, I would never ask for you.”

She managed to glare at him. “Then why
do
you ask for me?”

“I have wanted you from the beginning,” he said deliberately. “I will take you however I can get you.”

Alix recoiled from him, finally breaking free. “I would never take you…
never
! By all the gods, Finn…you are my half-brother! You
stole
me! You took my life and destroyed it, and now you seek to make a new one I want no part of. It is Duncan I want…
not you
!”

His face remained set and closed, but the color drained slowly until he resembled a dead man. But the intensity in his eyes showed his blood still ran beneath his flesh.

“Duncan wants Malina,” he said coldly. “Not you. Else he would renounce the old oath he made to her so long ago, and take you as his
cheysula.
” He shrugged dismissively. “You will grow out of wanting Duncan, my Homanan
rujholla
, if only because such desires die if not fed.”

“There is ever hope,” she said blankly.

“There is none,” he told her. “You turned from Carillon to Duncan. In time, you will turn from my
rujholli
to me.”

“You cannot
make
me!” she cried.

“I will not have to.” Finn glanced down at his hands as he idly separated the leaves by colors. “I spoke to the
shar tahl.
You will be acknowledged at Council, and formally accepted into the clan. With that acceptance comes clan-rights, which any warrior may ask for.” He looked at her. “Others may ask for you, Alix, because you are young and healthy and new to the clan. But I think you will take me, because—for all that has happened between us—you
know
me.”

“I will take Duncan,” she said firmly, knowing it as a weapon against Finn. “Duncan.”

Finn’s mouth twisted. “I also spoke with Duncan about your clan-rights,
rujholla.
He is clan-leader. It is his place to know what clan-rights will be asked, and who will do the asking.”

She stared at him. “I do not understand.”

“A clan-leader can ever deny a warrior the woman he wishes. Taking a
cheysula
is a formal thing. The clan-leader must give his permission.”

Alix felt cold and hollow, and very much alone. “And Duncan…?”

“He gave me permission, Alix. He will not interfere.”

Duncan!
she cried within her soul.

“If it is not me, it will be another,” Finn said gently.

Alix looked at him. For the first time he spoke softly to her, without the mocking mannerisms she had come to expect. She summoned up the image of him shapechanging before her, but it no longer frightened her. She had her own ability, though no one knew of it yet. Part of him, she knew, must be like Duncan. If he was harsh and taunting and impulsive, it was because Duncan was not, and Finn must make his own way.

She moved forward on her knees, sitting before him with leaves spread all around them. Alix slowly touched his hand, then pulled it into her own. She saw the startled flicker in his eyes.

“Finn,” she said softly,
“Rujho
…” She swallowed and smiled. “Take me home.”

His hand stiffened and jerked away. “Home…”

“To the croft,” she said. “To Torrin. To the life I know.”

His face masked itself. “This is your home, I will take you nowhere.”

“Finn…” she said softly, “I give you a chance to pay back what you took from me. Take me home.”

Finn got to his feet and looked down on her as she knelt in the leaves. “I could not let you go,” he said clearly. “Not now, when you are nearly mine. You forget,
rujholla
…I stole you because I wanted you. I will not give you up so easily.”

“But if Duncan said no—”

“Duncan said aye,” he reminded her. “Duncan has said I may have you.”

She stared up at him. “And if I refuse you? If I stand up in Council and say I will not have you?”

The mocking smile was back. “Do not forget our third gift,
meijha.
What you will not do willingly, you may be forced to do.”

“Please,” she said.

Finn looked down on her pleading face. “No,” he said, and left her.

Alix stood outside the slate-colored pavilion and closed her eyes, summoning her courage. Finally she scratched at the doorflap and waited. Duncan called for her to enter.

She hesitated, then pulled the doorflap aside. It dropped behind her as she stood there, letting her eyes adjust to the dim light. Duncan was hunched over a low worktable, a slender metal stylus held in one hand as he scraped carefully at gleaming gold.

“Aye?” he asked, without looking up.

Alix wet her lips. “Duncan.”

The line of his shoulders and arms stiffened. For a moment he continued working on the gold ornament, then he set it aside and dropped his tool down. It rattled against the gold and wood, rolling across the table. Alix watched it move, unable to meet his eyes.

“I have come to you because you are clan-leader,” she said carefully.

“Sit down, Alix.”

She knelt on the other side of the worktable, still not looking at him. Her heels dug into her thighs as she folded her legs under her. Finally she brought her head up.

“Finn came to me. He said he has spoken to you; that he will ask for my clan-rights at Council.”

He wore his solemn clan-leader face. “Aye.”

Her breath was unsteady as she drew it in. “Duncan…I do not wish for Finn. You know that.”

“It has been settled,” he said remotely. “And if you bring this up again, I cannot be only a clan-leader to you.”

Alix smiled at the unspoken warning. At least he was not totally indifferent to her. “I have not come to ask you to reconsider your offer to me,” she told him. “You have made it plain what you will do, and I am done begging for more.”

His eyes flickered. “Then what do you seek, Alix?”

“I want you to withdraw your permission to Finn. I want nothing to do with him. We could never make a marriage between us…and I think it might be the death of one of us if we were forced. I think it would be
his
death…not mine.”

Duncan smiled briefly, though he banished it quickly enough. “It would not be a tedious match.”

“It will not be a match at all,” she said darkly. “Duncan, withdraw your permission.”

“On what grounds?”

She scowled at him. “I do not want him!”

He shrugged. “Those are not grounds. That is merely contrariness speaking, and women are prone to that.”

Alix stared at him. “You cannot
want
me to take him!”

His face twisted. “No,” he said at last. “I do not want you to take him. But to refuse him because of that speaks of prejudice, and a clan-leader cannot be so petty. Alix, the match will be good for the clan.”

“Is that all you can say?” she demanded. “Can you only see the clan, and not me? By the gods, Duncan, I thought we had more between us. What has become of this precious
tahlmorra
?”

Color surged into his face, then slowly fell away. “Will you accept another warrior?”

“You know there is only one warrior I will accept.”

“Then the choice is yours,” he said softly. “Be
meijha
to me…or
cheysula
to another man.”

“Why?”

“I promised Malina when we were eight years old,” he said quietly. “A Cheysuli oath is binding.”

“
She
broke it.”

“She did not think I meant what I said.” Duncan touched the golden ornament on his table. “She went to Borrs because she thought I would change my mind. When I did not…she was fairly caught. The clan-leader had given his permission for Borrs to ask for her clan-rights, and once done that is not rescinded. It is binding.” He looked at her bleakly. “I did what you have done. I asked the clan-leader to withdraw his permission to Borrs, so that I could ask for Malina. He would not do it…and they were formally acknowledged before Council.”

Alix frowned. “But I thought you were clan-leader, and that was why you would not take a
cheysula.
”

He looked weary. “Tiernan died of a sickness. It took months. All knew I would be his successor, so I made my decision to remain solitary before he died. But he was still clan-leader. And when he died, Malina was already
cheysula
to Borrs.”