Chapter Thirty-Eight
~
“There you are,” the goddess said.
“What did I miss?” Nickie asked.
The girl’s parents exchanged subtle smiles.
“Nothing, really,” her father said. “Lord Nador confirmed the rumors you’re already privy to. Your new friend is indeed the chap Lord Cardiff has been trying to apprentice off.”
Irritation rather than the more common trend of embarrassment threaded through me. Did they have to talk about me like that in front of me, as though I’m livestock?
It struck me odd the man spoke so openly to Nickie. My own papa rarely acknowledged my existence, when we were still a family, much less shared his thoughts.
Our host continued. “Lord Blake obviously hasn’t concluded his less-than-secret plans. No doubt found his sorcery didn’t assure him victory. That boil-brain and his skainsmates took a hostage, of all things. That won’t ingratiate the council, I wouldn’t think.”
“A hostage,” Nickie shrieked.
“Aye.” Her father punctuated that with a stiff nod. “He blathered into a situation he couldn’t handle and is holding a wo—hen in front of him for protection. No act of a gentleman.”
“And you hadn’t heard about this?”
Nickie’s mother smothered a smile behind her hand. Her blue eyes conveyed the humor well enough. I didn’t need the sentiment that floated across the room to me, jabbin’ me in the temple.
“Doubt even Blake is proud enough to spread that about.”
“We must—”
The manor lord raised a subtle hand and Nickie held whatever opinion she was about to share. The wizard waved me toward a chair, but I ignored the invitation. Wasn’t ready to sit again. Hadn’t wanted to when I ate my snack, but didn’t wish to appear completely uncouth, eatin’ on my feet. I remained standin’ next to Nickie, who crossed her arms. Evidently bein’ instructed to hold her tongue wasn’t a common event in her household. But, she was well-enough behaved to contain her displeasure.
The man turned to his wife. “Before you came outside, my dear, Lord Nador presented me with an ultimatum. We best return to that.” He turned to Selene. “Care to give me some background to explain your position?”
Selene nodded to Morgan, and the ogre explained his pre-sight. Selene added to that what Ash’et said, slippin’ our host’s name in the conversation—Lord Rutland.
So the goddess is Lady Rutland. Or was she Madame Rutland, and Nickie is Lady Rutland? How exactly did that work?
After the tellin’, a half-minute passed in quiet. I wondered why it took older folk so long to put their thinkin’ into words, sometimes. I squirmed, wonderin’ what to do with my hands. Considered crossin’ my arms like Nickie, but that would make me look the parrot. I tried hookin’ my thumbs into the small pockets of my new, padded vest, but that seemed cocksure-ish. Opted to plunge them into the front pockets of my pants. Maybe that’s what they were sewn there for. I hadn’t found any other use for them.
“Frankly, I thought the rumors the ancient queen was still alive mere make believe. Hard to fathom—”
“You’re no brash thinker,” Selene said. “Why would you entertain to join such a conspiracy?” Veins lined his temples, though he kept a level voice.
“What conspiracy?” Lady Rutland’s tone clearly indicated she was used to bein’ aware of her husband’s dealin’s.
The man studied his lap.
“Marshal?” she pressed.
Selene spoke for him. “I don’t know how Ash’et knew, but she identified seven wizards who—” He stopped, evidently unable to categorize men conspirin’ to murder an element of history, a bein’ older than history, as old as folklore itself.
Marshal Rutland spoke slowly. “I didn’t even believe she lived. But if anyone was going to raise issues in the South, considering we live so near the Range, I wanted to ensure any trouble was put to bed permanently.”
“What do you mean by that?” Lady Rutland demanded.
He took a long breath and let it out in a rush. “I put up funds for a hundred mercenaries.”
Lady Rutland stood and glared at her husband a five-count. He refused to meet her eyes, and she swept out of the room, her boot heels clatterin’ upon the polished floor. I looked down at Nickie, expectin’ her to follow her mother, but she stood stoically, lips pressed out as though concentratin’ on an arithmetic challenge.
“I’ll contact the others,” Lord Rutland said. “Arrange a communion tonight.”
I concentrated on a mental nudge to Selene’s shoulder. He peered up, surprise on his face that matched my own for makin’ the silent query work.
Selene shared a lopsided grin. “How I reached Lord Cardiff,” he said softly.
It took me a moment to connect the name Cardiff, to Rutland’s earlier statement about shoppin’ me to other wizards, and to connect that to Selene’s majicin’ over still water. Communion, it must be called. Odd choice of name.
The manor lord had stood, and Selene and Morgan joined him.
“Forgive me, Lord Rutland,” Selene said. “But to be honest, I’m stricken by how easy it was to convince you the conspiracy must be stopped.”
The muscles in my shoulders tightened. Was the man, indeed, changin’ sides just like that? Was a man so easily swayed, trustworthy? Pretty sure that’s what I also read from Selene.
“You don’t trust me?” A tiny challenge of a smile crossed Rutland’s lips.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You’d be an idiot to trust me that readily.” Rutland smiled fully. “You will join the communion. There will be no discussion you won’t hear. You can even join me while I arrange the meeting.”
“Reaching six others will take much from you,” Selene said. “Allow my friend to assist you.” He nodded at Morgan, and looked back at Rutland. “If you prove to be deceitful, he’ll simply snap you in half.”
Lord Rutland cut off a gasp, though Nickie barked a laugh. Selene smiled. Morgan worked his tusks up and down in a manner I didn’t know how to interpret. But it implied a scowl. Perhaps he was more than willin’ to follow through with the suggestion, if Rutland proved less than trustworthy.
“You have an evil disposition, Nador.” Rutland softened his expression and turned to his daughter. I sensed him considerin’ how readily she caught Selene’s humor. Pride warmed him.
Selene said to me, “We have an invitation to sup, if you have no conflict?”
I didn’t bother to answer. Just grinned.
“We’ve also been promised real beds for the eve—” Selene interrupted himself and took in Morgan’s full height, though his breadth was likely as much an issue.
“I’m quite satisfied with my fur, on the floor,” Morgan said.
Selene smiled. “Then while you reach your friends, Lord Rutland, I need to share a few words with Paul in private. If we may take your leave.”
“Use my office.”
“Not necessary. An open field is what we require.”
A twinge shot through my spine and a sense very much like when I leaned too far over that cliff the day I escaped, dizzied me.
~
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