Realm of Light - Deborah Chester [93]
At once, Fotel spoke a command and Basha lifted back into the air, smoking and grumbling as he went.
Caelan took a moment to adjust his sword belt, then he straightened himself to military posture and swept the silent Gial-tan soldiers with a single, appraising glance. The sight of them did not appear to daunt him at all.
Elandra’s heart swelled with pride in him. Not a single man in this compound was Caelan’s physical equal. He stood head and shoulders above them all. This morning he wore his long blond hair braided back warrior style, and his bronzed, chiseled face looked stern and handsome. His blue eyes were hard and observant. He would miss nothing, she knew. He was evaluating their silent reception, gauging the possible dangers.
Wisely, Elandra curbed her own impulse to jump off the dragon and go running up the steps. She recalled the day she had left this palace in Bixia’s wake. The soldiers had cheered her that day. But they stood silent and hostile now.
She turned to Bwend, whose eyes shifted constantly as though he expected to be attacked at any moment. “I owe you my thanks,” she said. “Never again will I doubt the loyalty of a man of Thyzarene.”
Bwend’s gaze met hers. For an instant he smiled. “Never before have I met an empress,” he replied. “But my service is yours to command whenever there is need.”
She smiled, and his eyes softened.
“If you will wait while I make greetings to my father, I will see that you are rewarded—”
“No, Majesty,” he said firmly. “No reward.”
She frowned in dismay. “But I promised—”
“No, Majesty. I have my reward.”
She couldn’t believe a Thyzarene was actually turning down money. “But—”
He gave her a shy little bow of his head. “This empress has smiled to me as a friend. This empress has spoken to me kindly as an equal. This empress has ridden the winds without fear. Surely this empress is worthy, and I serve her as a citizen of the empire.”
She smiled and touched his gnarled hand briefly. “You are a good man, Bwend. When the empire is once again secure, will you and Nia come to Imperia? I would see a better relationship established with your people.”
He looked startled. “Perhaps.”
“Majesty,” Caelan said, breaking in.
She glanced around to see him standing at her knee. He held out his hand to assist her down. His touch was formal and impersonal. He was wearing his most remote expression.
It was to help her, she knew, for as yet the men staring at her had no idea of who she was. Yet she refused to take what he offered.
Staring up at him, she said softly for his ears alone, “You stubborn, impossible man. All those times when I tried to get you to act as my official protector, you would not. Now, when I want you to enter my father’s house as my equal, you retreat to my heels.”
Caelan’s blue eyes met hers. “Will it not help?”
“It might, but my father always said a person should begin in the manner he intended to continue. Kostimon’s empire is ended. Let us begin the way we shall go on.”
A very thin smile touched Caelan’s lips and spread up into his eyes. He inclined his head to her, and when she extended her hand to him, he lifted it to his lips, then held it fast.
From their left, an officer in a turban and a long yellow and white surcoat worn over mail came striding up, spurs jingling, one hand gripping the hilt of his scimitar.
The dragon lifted her head and bugled at Basha, who was circling safely overhead.
Elandra turned back to Bwend. “I wish to thank Nia too,” she said. “Will she let me pet her?”
Bwend frowned but gave her a curt nod. He spoke a sharp command to the dragon, who lowered her head and turned her iridescent eyes warily on Elandra.
Elandra held out her hand, palm up, and felt the hot, smoky breath