Rebel's Honor(2)

Lynx wanted to yell and leap with relief and pride, but Clay had yet to  bring her an egg. Hand pressed against a wound slashed open on his  thigh, Clay hobbled to the eggs.

A clatter of hooves came from behind.

Lynx spun. A horse and rider streaked toward them. She wanted to shout a  warning, but that would constitute interference. So, unable to breathe,  she prayed the rider would swerve in time.

Clay had also seen the horse. He screamed, waving his arms, and pointed  at the nest. The rider seemed not to hear-or to care-because she aimed  for the clutch.                       
       
           



       

Lynx knew who she was. Only one Norin girl wore a veil as a fashion  statement: their sister, Kestrel. Lynx suspected it was designed to hide  the lack of feathers and beads in her blond hair. Unlike the rest of  their family, Kestrel had never been brave enough to raid an egg,  settling instead for a life as a server. She wore her ostrich-skin  apron, the servers' badge of honor, begrudgingly.

Swearing, Clay broke into a run, but before he could reach the clutch,  the horse cantered to the nest. Kestrel wheeled the horse around and  then pranced it over the eggs. Its hooves cracked every shell. Without a  perfect egg, Clay had failed. He would never be given another chance to  raid. Keening, he fell to his knees, burying his head in his hands.

Lynx sheathed her machetes, dove forward, and grabbed the horse's  harness. "Kestrel, by all the Winds! What's the matter with you?  Couldn't you see the dead ostrich? Didn't you see Clay going for the  clutch?"

"You know I don't care about wind or ostrich eggs!" Kestrel yelled as her horse reared.

Lynx tumbled to the ground. Kestrel rewarded her with a contemptuous flick of her veils.

Screaming at the top of his lungs, Clay snatched up his bloodied machete  and raced toward his sister and her prancing horse. "I'll kill you,  Kestrel!"

Kestrel shrieked and spurred her horse, sending it shooting forward.  Safely out of reach, she called out, "Lynx, maybe I didn't want my  little brother copying you. Not every member of this family has to be a  raider, you know."

"I never said they did!" Lynx screamed, scrambling to her feet. "But  those wanting to should get a fair chance. Just like no one stopped you  choosing not to raid."

"A fair chance? Try not raiding and see how it feels! Everyone treats me  like dirt because I chose not to have feathers and beads in my hair!"

"That's in your head. And even if it were true, it's not Clay's fault.  Why punish him?" Lynx shouted straight back at her sister.

Kestrel scorned the code of honor, bravery, and fealty to the Norin king  that set their tribe apart from the rest of the Chenayan empire. Her  sister believed they should embrace Chenayan culture, not something any  Norin in their right mind would ever consider doing. And as for Lynx,  street sweeper or emperor, she despised all Chenayans equally.

"Oh, what does it matter?" Kestrel asked. "Father sent me to find you  both. Lynx, you're to come home, now. The imperial steam carriage  brought a letter from the emperor."

The blood drained from Lynx's face, and she sucked in a panicked breath.

"Yes, that letter," Kestrel yelled over her shoulder as her horse bolted  away. "You're to marry Prince Lukan! I hope you enjoy becoming a  Chenayan!"





Chapter 2





Lynx watched her sister until the horse veered around a craggy butte and  vanished from view. But no matter how long Lynx stood staring after  her, Kestrel's words refused to connect in her mind.

How was it possible she had been chosen to marry Lukan? Kestrel was, by  far, the better candidate to marry the crown prince. Her sister would  have known that, too. Lynx guessed Kestrel had secretly anticipated the  marriage-looked forward to it, even.

As for Lynx, the idea of marrying Lukan made her skin crawl. He was a  Chenayan. She, a Norin. He was her conqueror. She, his conquered. He had  been born and raised to lord over her. She had been born and raised to  hate him. They might as well have been different species.

There was no winning here.

But fighting the summons was impossible. Emperor Mott, Lukan's father,  was too powerful to be denied. Emperor Mott and his Chenayan empire  ruled two-thirds of the world, and no one could do a damn thing about  it. He even had the Unity behind him, the ancient marriage treaty  between their two nations, which stipulated that a Norin princess would  marry the Chenayan crown prince. The marriage was unavoidable.

Still, the chances of her father sharing the letter's content with  Kestrel first, if Lynx had been the one chosen, were nil. It was  possible her sister had been mistaken. Or had lied. Lynx wouldn't put it  past Kestrel.

Sighing, Lynx reached for the satchel hanging from her shoulder,  containing her medical supplies. Then, a thought struck. She frowned,  considering the idea from all angles.

Risky and manipulative, it would make her as unpopular with her family  as Kestrel was right now. But it was too good an opportunity to pass up.  If she had to marry Lukan, then she could use that marriage to  manipulate her father into agreeing to let Clay raid again.

She grimaced. If her trade-off worked, she would be honor-bound to marry  Lukan. To sleep with him. To bear his children. Could she? Her hand  found her braided hair and feathers. She twirled them, deep in thought.                       
       
           



       

Marriage to Lukan would bring the title of Chenayan crown princess,  followed by empress when Lukan came to power. He would expect her to  relinquish her loyalty to Norin-and to her king, to whom she'd sworn  fealty.

Lynx's stomach contracted at the very notion, sending shafts of pain and  nausea through her. The day she had come home with an egg, she had gone  on bended knee, swearing fealty to her father, King Thorn. The wind,  which had moaned softly around her as she knelt, picked up as she had  uttered her oath. Without doubt, the Winds had delivered her pledge to  the skies.

Since then, she had walked a tight line between defying her father and  obeying her king. Now, thanks to Kestrel, she was trapped between filial  responsibility and her oath of allegiance. It would take some careful  crafting to traverse this potential snake pit. For a Norin, breaking an  oath was a grievous sin, equal to murder, with a punishment equally  harsh. At worst, the oathbreaker could be condemned to death, if the  person wronged chose to inflict the ultimate penalty. At best, every  Norin would know of the perfidy and would shun the culprit. In Lynx's  mind, death would be better than banishment from her home and the people  she loved.

Clay's voice broke into thoughts. "I'll never wear the feathers and  beads now." He slumped in the dust next to the dead ostrich and the  broken eggs, his head resting on his knees.

Lynx swallowed hard. With his infectious laughter and determined  bravery, Clay was one of the most important people in her world.

Mindful of his wounds, she knelt down and gently embraced him. "It's okay. The Winds will bring us a plan."

"And if they don't? I'll be a server for the rest of my life . . . picking up ostrich dung for the fires."

"Not if I have anything to do with it. I'll-" She bit her tongue; it was  premature to share her nascent plan with him. "I'll plead with Father  for you."

Clay lifted his head to look at her, his eyes wrought with pain and  sorrow. "I don't know, Lynx . . . he'll be furious that I raided without  permission."

"Leave him to me. I give you my oath that I'll do my best to fix this." She sucked in a breath. There was no going back now.

The muscles in Clay's face relaxed, and she knew she'd said the right  thing, even if it trapped her into a marriage with Lukan. There's no  guarantee Kestrel was right about me marrying him, she reminded herself.

Lynx cracked a wry smile as she reached for her antiseptic tincture.  "Now, come, let me patch you up. Father will be less mad if he doesn't  know how badly that ostrich tore you up."

Clay sniggered. "It's going to sting, isn't it?"

"About as bad as sticking your head in a bee hive."

"Great." Clay winced as she gently rubbed the gash on his thigh with the clove-scented ointment.

The larger of the planet's twin moons nudged the sky by the time Lynx had finished dressing Clay's wounds.

"Wait here. I'll get your horse," Lynx said as he creaked to his feet.  She trotted through the tuffet grass to the thorn tree where they had  tethered their horses. Holding both bridles, she walked back to him.

Only when he was seated did she mount her own horse. They rode across  the arid terrain, picking their way through clumps of dry grass and  scrub as they headed back to the Norin encampment.