Here’s chapter two of our free read Song of Marwey by Robin D. Owens (click here to read the first installment). In Chapter Two, Marwey seeks out Pascal–the young Castle Soldier whose Song has resonated so deeply within her. But will he feel the same, or will his future mean more to him than love?
Song of Marwey by Robin D. Owens, Chapter 2
Marwey’s brief conversation with Pascal had been the high point of her day. The rest of the day had spiraled into tense arguments as her great-aunt Thealia met with other Marshalls, revealing what the oracle had prophesized to save their land. They must Summon a person from another world. Dangerous magic that would drain them – and could kill them. Hot words were exchanged and the atmosphere thickened with anger and the heaviness of an ominous fate.
Later, Marwey descended the stairs to the Castle baths to prepare herself for Pascal. Excitement fizzed through her at the thought of meeting him again. Standing under a drying vent, she mentally reached for Pascal to locate him. Their earlier quick touch of hands had twined a small tune between them. So unusual for such an emotional bond to happen…but so sweet.
After dressing in thick leggings and a long gown and cloak, she followed the tug of her heart to Pascal and to the stables where winged horses, called volarans, were kept. He was stroking the nose of an older volaran.
The place was warm and smelled of hay, oats and the musk of volarans. Marwey had brought with her a piece of fruit, which she gave to the winged horse she’d ridden to the Castle that morning.
Pascal moved down the aisle with one of his slow smiles. “Hello, Marwey.”
Marwey sensed she hadn’t fooled him a bit. “Hello, Pascal.”
“I knew you were coming and I lingered.” He grasped her hand, raised it to his lips and kissed the back. Again the rush of color, of Song, of passion, whirled through her. Heat spread through her body.
Pascal squeezed her hand and released it. “I wondered if I’d really felt that punch of desire, or had just imagined there was a link between us. We must decide if we want to pursue this.”
She didn’t want to think. “Why decide?” She was surprised she could speak with such fire storming through her.
He looked impatient, scanned the stalls, patted the winged horse she’d ridden, then curled his fingers over the stall door. “We’re not the same class, and I’m sure we have different plans. I want to be the best. I’ll be a Marshall someday,” he said with complete confidence. “That Castle volaran has been assigned for me to learn to fly.”
Marwey’s stomach tightened. A Marshall – she’d been afraid of that. “I could be a Marshall.” Her voice cracked.
He sighed. “Anyone can see that you’re a lady who’ll want a serene life and children. Marshalls shouldn’t have children.”
“All the twelve current Marshalls have children.” She argued to convince him – and herself.
“All their children are grown, older than we are.” He tensed. “And that was before the fenceposts began to fail, when Lladrana was safe with only one or two dark horrors a year penetrating the magical boundary. Times have changed.” His expression went hard. “We’re at war for the foreseeable future. Just as in the ancient days before the fenceposts and border were made. It’s not the time for Marshalls to have families.”
Marwey wet her lips, put her hand atop his, gloried in the mingling of their songs. Along with the yearning of her heart came a low ache. “As a Marshall, you will be Paired with someone, a Shield for defense.” She swallowed. “Every Marshall Pair is blood-bonded.” I could bond with you, she thought.
He withdrew his hand. “The Lord Marshall is Paired with his brother. I thought to ask mine.” But he looked unsure, as if he still had not made up his mind. “I am at the beginning of my career.” His mouth twisted. “I’m the son of a very minor, poor noble. We have no volarans. A person must have land and three battle-trained volarans before they can test to be a Marshall. I’m not even a Chevalier.”
“Yet.” She met his eyes steadily. “I feel the greatness in you.”
Raising his brows, he said, “Is that your magical Power – evaluating people?”
“No, I’m a strong mind-merger.”
“A womanly talent. My Power is battle foresight. I anticipate my opponent’s moves.”
Now she could feel the strong Power enveloping him, though he had no silver hair.
“I dyed my hair.” He grumbled. “It wouldn’t do for the third son of a poor, petty noble to be arrogant. Soon I’ll have a streak of silver, here.” He tapped his right temple and winked. “Wider than yours.”
Marwey tossed her head. “But I have two.”
He chuckled.
Battle foresight. She bit her lip. There was no way he’d forsake being a Marshall. She hated thinking about fighting, talking about it. “War sometimes…accelerates careers.”
“Yes. A person can win more than glory on the battlefield. But it’s a risky life.” He curved his hand near her face, as if he wanted to touch. Marwey leaned into it and felt the tips of his fingers brush her cheek. A long, low note resonated between them. When he spoke, his voice was unsteady. “You’re not a woman for battle, but a lady to make a comfortable hearth and home.”
“I can be anything I want.”
“I’d hate to see you as a fighter.”
She sniffed. “Sometimes choices must be made.” Didn’t he know how deeply the Song ran between them already? “I want you,” she said.
He shook, and she liked that.
But then he inhaled and met her gaze. “I don’t intend to Pair for a long time. Not until after I earn my Chevalier reins, not until I have enough zhiv to buy land or enough luck to win it, or give enough loyalty to some Lord or Lady to receive an estate as a gift.”
She stepped so close his scent enveloped her, and she pressed her hands to his chest. His heart thundered as much as hers and she smiled. Until he brought his lips to hers, traced them with his tongue, and insinuated it into her mouth. He tasted of winter mint. She hung on. With a rough moan that echoed in her mouth, vibrated to her very bones, he pulled her to him. He was young and strong and very, very hard.
He broke away, eyes glittering. “I sleep in the Main Gate barracks. I don’t have a private room to talk in – or to do anything else.”
“I have a room in the southeast keep tower.”
He stepped back. “The Germaine Marshalls’ Tower?”
“Yes, come with me.”
“This is madness. This sudden attraction–”
The heat of desire turned to embarrassment, crept up her cheeks at what she’d offered and he was denying. She shifted feet, wishing she was in his arms, surrendering to hot delight, not talking. Not thinking. “Everyone knows that sometimes personal Songs merge quickly.”
Laughing harshly, he shook his head. “It’s unusual.”
“But it’s happening to us!”
Pascal’s lips narrowed.
“Come with me – to talk, learn each other better,” Marwey pressed.
“Your chamber is under your aunt’s!”
“So?”
He shook his head. “I’m new to the Castle, the Marshalls don’t know me, even the Captain of the Soldiers doesn’t know me well. It would look bad.”
“So what?”
Raking a hand through his hair, he said, “So you come from a rich, noble family, with the highest of connections and the day you arrive – young, naive – I sneak off to your room with you. It appears as if I’m a dishonorable man, using you to get ahead in my profession.”
“I know my own mind. I’m not that young or naive.”
Pascal snorted.
“And I want to know you better. We could talk here,” she said.
“You are naive if you believe that – staying here in the warmth, in the dark. We wouldn’t talk and I’m not having sex with you under volaran eyes.” He stepped back.
“They won’t tell.”
He flung up his hands. “How do you know, have you ever linked with one?”
“Of course, I’m a mind-merge.” She nodded to the old volaran assigned to him. “He’s the dominant volaran here, and he likes you. He’ll tell the others to keep quiet.”
Pascal swallowed. “I want to stay, but I’ve rarely been able to do what I want.” His gaze traveled down her, pausing at breasts and hips, firing her blood. “I think you have usually received what you want.”
He moved to the stable door, hesitated. “We are ill matched in status, in life plans.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but was stopped by his raised hand.
“Don’t tell me that you could become a fighter. I’d wager you never had a thought of that until this sudden Song between us, am I right?”
Marwey was silent.
“Ill matched,” Pascal repeated and left.
Rejection speared through her. She swallowed, then set her chin in determination. She’d be a fool to let love go without a fight.
Copyright © 2005 Harlequin Books S.A.
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For more byRobin D. Owens, check out the rest of her Llandra/The Summoning series for Luna books — Guardian of Honor, Sorceress Of Faith, Protector Of The Flight, Keepers of the Flame, and Echoes in the Dark. Click below to read an excerpt!
