Both Quartilla and her father had remained silent as Nosmas had spoken, too shocked to voice what they were thinking. Rumman wanted to argue against his daughter being taken away again after such a short amount of time, but could see the logic in everyone who was in danger staying together and knew that if anyone could take care of Quartilla, Nosmas would be the best choice.
“You plan to leave in the morning I take it,” he said, hoping that the answer would be no.
“I do,” Nosmas confirmed. “The sooner I rendezvous with Tor, the safer we will all be.
“Very well,” he said, clearly displeased, but knowing there was nothing he could do to persuade Nosmas to stay longer. “I will speak to the cook to make sure you have plenty of supplies to take with you. Do you want to borrow a wagon?”
Nosmas shook his head. “It will slow us down too much. Quartilla is an accomplished rider and I am sure she has no objections to bringing her horse.” He glanced towards her as he spoke and saw her shake her head.
“In that case I will also speak to the stable master,” Rumman said and left the room.
“I have missed you,” Quartilla said once they were alone, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked at her feet, unable to raise her head to meet the wizard’s gaze.
“I have missed you too,” Nosmas said, surprised by how much truth there was in the statement. She had been his ward for a while, so it was understandable that he had grown used to having her around and her absence had caused him some feeling of unease, but why had it caused him so much discomfort and why was he so pleased to see her once more?
Before he had chance to think about this further, she was in his arms, kissing him passionately. He knew he should stop her, but he found himself responding. He ran his hand through her long brown hair and gently cradled her head as he drew himself away. “This is not a good idea,” he whispered, afraid that if he spoke any louder he would not be able to hide the passion he was feeling.
“I know,” she said, stepping away from him. “I am sorry. I could not help myself.”
She tried to remove her hand, which he was holding tightly, but he would not let go. “I am not,” he said and pulled her towards him once more. They were still embracing when Rumman returned.
“What is going on here?” he yelled, making the couple spring apart. “Take your hands off her. She is still a child. You are old enough to be her father.” Nosmas opened his mouth to explain, but no words came.
Rumman was livid. “I trusted her into your care and this is the result? What sort of monster are you? You were supposed to look after her, not abuse her. Get out of my sight. There is no way I am going to let her go anywhere with you.” He was shouting so loud his face was going red and spittle was forming at the edge of his mouth. Nosmas, concerned that Rumman may turn violent, eased himself in front of Quartilla, who proceeded to step around him and march up to her father.
“Get a grip on yourself father,” she said calmly, “before you burst a blood vessel or something. There is nothing going on for you to worry about.”
“But you were all over each other,” he protested, slumping down into a chair as his energy drained out of him, taking his anger with it. “I am too old for this. I thought all of my troubles were behind me when I found husbands for my other two daughters.”
Quartilla sat down beside him on the arm of the chair and rubbed his shoulders. “I am sorry father. I did not realise how much I had missed Nosmas until I saw him again, then I could not help myself. I never intended to cause you any distress.”
“And what do you have to say for yourself?” Rumman asked, looking up at Nosmas.
Nosmas did not seat himself, preferring to stand. “I care about your daughter a great deal. I just did not realise in what way until she kissed me.” He paused before taking a deep breath and saying, “What do you want me to do?”
Rumman hung his head and pushed his fingers through his hair. “I have absolutely no idea.”
It was still dark when Sam awoke. She turned to make sure she had not disturbed Dean and was momentarily confused to find that she was alone, until she remembered that he had agreed to sleep in a different room, for Brin’s sake. Rolling over, she closed her eyes and tried to get back to sleep, but after a while she gave up and got out of bed, placed a gown around her and left the room. Without giving any real thought as to where she was going, instinct took her towards Brin’s quarters and their daughter.
Breathing a sigh of relief that it was not locked, she slowly opened the door to his suite and peered inside. It was dark, but not so dark that she could not make out the door to the nursery. She silently entered, her eyes falling on the couch upon which Kat was lying.
Sam gazed down at her sleeping daughter and smiled. She looked so peaceful. She heard movement behind her, but did not turn around to see who had entered the room; there was no need. Standing behind her, Brin wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her shoulder. Taking his hands, she intertwined her fingers in his and leaned her head back against his chest. “She is perfect,” he whispered into her ear, resisting the urge to kiss her neck. “I am so proud of you.”
“With you as her father, how could she be anything less?” Sam said, fighting the desire to turn around and look at him, knowing that if she did so she would be unable to control herself.
How long they stayed like that, they did not know, but neither wanted the moment to end. It had to eventually and Sam reluctantly removed Brin’s arms from around her, left the room, returned to her bed and tried to get to sleep once more. The next thing she knew, sun was streaming into the room. Grabbing her gown from where she had thrown it on the floor, she retraced her steps and returned to the nursery. This time, however, her daughter was not present. She looked around her in a panic, wondering where she could have gone.
“Do not worry,” a voice sounded behind her. “Your daughter is safe.” Sam spun around and saw Brin’s wife smiling at her. “Come with me, but keep quiet.”
Sam surprised herself by obeying. Brianna led her out of the nursery and to another door. Putting her fingers to her lips, the elf slowly opened the door before moving aside so that Sam could see inside. Brin was asleep in his bed, his arms wrapped around Kat, who was curled up in a ball.
“I woke up when she came into my room looking for her father,” Brianna explained. “I led her here and she climbed into his bed without waking him. They do look sweet together do you not think?” Sam was too overcome with emotion to comment.
Later that same morning, Nosmas and Quartilla were waiting in her father’s office, having been summoned. When Rumman entered he looked like he had not slept all night. He appeared to have aged overnight. “Let me get straight to the point,” he said before Nosmas or his daughter could speak. “Quartilla is still a child and, while I respect that she is old enough to marry, as her father I still have the right to say who can and who cannot be her suitor.”
Quartilla made to speak, but Rumman stopped her. “Let me finish.” He turned his attention to Nosmas. “You have a good reputation for being a fair and honest man, as well as an exceptional wizard. I have also heard many stories of your attitude towards women, most of which I believe to be true. As a result, I trust that your intentions towards my daughter are noble and your feelings genuine.”
“They are, I assure you,” the large man responded.
“But she is still too young to become seriously involved, especially with a much older man,” Rumman continued. “I have been awake most of the night thinking of a way out of this that will keep all parties happy and I think I have finally found one.” He looked towards his daughter once more. “Do you wish to marry this man?”
“Yes,” Quartilla replied without hesitation.
“And do you wish to marry my daughter?” he asked Nosmas.
“Eventually, yes.”
“Eventually?” Rumman asked, though he did not appear surprised by the answer.
“I agree with you that she is too
young to make that sort of commitment,” Nosmas replied. “I fear she would regret her decision. I have no intention of proposing to her until she is at least another year older.”
Rumman nodded his head, but did not comment. He walked behind his desk, in front of which Nosmas and Quartilla were seated; the latter did not look pleased with Nosmas’s declaration of his intentions. He slowly sat down, then removed a document from one of the drawers and passed it to Nosmas.
“This is an agreement between the three of us. It states that, upon her eighteenth birthday, should she so wish, Quartilla will marry you on this estate. It goes on to mention that you will have my permission to travel together, but there will be no inappropriate physical contact between you until you are legally wed. Do you agree to sign?”
“Yes,” Nosmas’s deep voice sounded.
“No,” Quartilla said unexpectedly. Two pairs of eyes fixed on her, one full of confusion, the other pain.
“Why not?” Rumman asked. “I thought this is what you wanted.”
“That is over two years away,” she complained. “I should not have to wait that long.”
Nosmas smiled and took her hands in his. “Quartilla,” he said, looking into her eyes so she could see the sincerity of his words. “You probably will not believe me, but feelings often change over time when you are young and you may change your mind about me. If I have to wait for nearly three years to take you as my bride in order to keep your father happy, then I will gladly do so. I would wait forever if I had to. We will still be together and in my heart you are already my wife. I just have to wait until we have had the legal ceremony before I can take you to my bed. Is that really so much to ask?”
Quartilla wanted to argue that it was, that she should be allowed to wed whomever she pleased whenever she pleased, but found herself unable to do so. Nosmas’s words had moved her deeply and she could not ignore what he had said.
“Very well,” she said reluctantly.
Smiling, Nosmas signed the document, then handed it over to Rumman. Once all three had signed, Rumman made to put it back in his drawer, but Nosmas stopped him.
“Wait one moment,” he said and held out his hand for the piece of paper. Puzzled, Rumman returned it to him and watched in fascination as the wizard placed Quartilla’s hand upon it, then his own. Nosmas whispered an incantation and both of their bodies began to glow. When he stopped speaking, the glow disappeared and Nosmas handed the document to Rumman.
“What did you just do?” he asked.
“I am very grateful to you for agreeing to let me have your daughter as my wife and for allowing me to take her with me when I leave. I did not want you to rely on just my word that I would not abuse your trust, so I have placed an enchantment on us that makes the contract binding in more than just legal terms.”
Both Rumman and Quartilla looked at him quizzically, not fully understanding what he was saying. “Until we are married,” Nosmas continued, “the spell will prevent us from doing anything more than kissing and cuddling.”
“Thank you,” Rumman responded and shook Nosmas’s hand. Both of them ignored the outraged look on Quartilla’s face.
Soon it was time to depart. Bags had been packed and extra supplies were strapped to a spare horse. The goodbyes were long and tearful, ending with Nosmas promising to do everything within his power to keep Quartilla safe. Once they were off her father’s lands, Quartilla rode closer to Nosmas and asked him a question.
“You did lie to my father, did you not?”
“About what?” he asked, though he knew what the answer was going to be.
“About the enchantment. The spell will not really stop us having sex will it? You just did that to keep him happy I hope.”
Nosmas stopped his horse, making Quartilla do the same. He looked at her, a serious expression on his face. “No, I did not lie to your father. The enchantment genuinely will keep us apart. But I did not do it solely to please your father. The main reason I did it was for my sake. I take my word very seriously and I am not sure I would have been able to keep my promise to not take you to my bed without something physically preventing me from doing so.”
He urged his horse to start moving once more, leaving Quartilla staring after him, unsure whether to be pleased or angry.
Rumman was not the only one to have spent most of the night thinking. Dean, too, had a lot on his mind. He had thought that he could cope with being second best as far as Sam was concerned, but having seen the way she looked at Brin he was now not so sure. On top of that, he was worried about the danger she faced. With someone trying to kill everyone who played a part in the quest, he was not sure that putting all of the targets in one place was a good idea. He spent a great deal of the night pondering what to do and was tired and irritable when the sun rose. He lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling for what felt like hours, before finally deciding he was just postponing the inevitable and forced himself to get up. He dressed and made his way to the dining room, where he found all of his friends, as well as most members of the royal family. Declining food, he braced himself and walked up to Brin. This was a conversation he knew he would regret having for as long as he lived and wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. “May I have a word with you, in private?”
“Of course,” Brin replied. “Come this way. We can talk in my office.”
“Should I follow them?” Patrick asked Ellen as he watched them leave the room. He ran his fingers affectionately through her bright red hair as he spoke.
“No,” she replied. “Dean appears to be unarmed. I do not know what he is up to, but I can assure you that he will come off worst if he tries anything.”
“In that case, I will go and distract Sam. She did not notice Dean come in and I want to make sure she does not realise that he and Brin have gone somewhere together.”
“Good idea,” Ellen replied, her gaze not leaving the corridor down which the elf and the human had gone.
Dean followed Brin to his office, running through his prepared speech in his head over and over again. Brin entered the room, then held the door open for Dean, closing it behind him once he was inside. Both men were tense.
“Should I check you for weapons?” Brin asked, no trace of sarcasm in his voice.
Dean tried to smile, but failed. “No. I am not that stupid. I know you could easily beat me and I am not feeling suicidal, at least not yet.”
Brin raised his eyebrows, but did not question what Dean meant by that statement. “And you are not concerned that your life may be in danger, being alone with me?”
“No,” Dean replied once more. “I have heard enough about you to know that you are not a violent man, I mean elf.”
“Please, take a seat,” Brin said, indicating one of the chairs placed near his desk with his hand.
“I prefer to stand.” Dean said, then took a deep breath. “I am here to ask a favour.”
Brin too remained standing. “You want me to keep away from Sam.”
He said her name with such tenderness that Dean lost the fragile hold he had on himself and fell into a chair, feeling his legs give way. He sat there for a moment, his head in his hands, unable to speak the words he needed to. Brin sat down opposite him, but remained silent. He saw that Dean needed a moment to compose himself and was prepared to wait as long as was necessary.
Eventually Dean ran his hand through his hair and raised his head. “No. That’s not it, though I wish it was.” He stood up and began pacing the room, unable to look at Brin. “I want, no I need you to convince Sam to stay here when Tor and the rest of us leave.”
This was the last thing that Brin had been expecting to hear and he could not stop himself from exclaiming. “What?”
Dean sat down once more and looked directly at Brin, making it impossible for the elf to fail to notice exactly how much the words were costing him. “Someone is trying to kill every single person we are travelling with. It is too dangerous for her to continue with us. I know she will be a lot sa
fer here. Besides,” he added ruefully, “I have heard about what she went through the last time you two parted and I don’t want to witness her going through that again.”
Never in his life had Brin wanted so much to agree to a request, but he knew it would be the wrong thing to do. “It will be different this time. She is with you now.”
Dean laughed mirthlessly. “If only that were true. You are married now. You have a wife to love you and take care of you, yet I bet you can’t look me straight in the eye and tell me you will not suffer just as much, if not more, than you did last time she left you.”
“You are right,” Brin admitted. “I was so excited when I heard she was here, yet every moment I spend with her is torture, knowing that she won’t be staying.”
“Then you will ask her to stay.”
“I need to think about it. I will have an answer for you tomorrow.”
“Fair enough.” Dean stood and left the room, leaving Brin alone with his thoughts.
Brin watched him depart, staring at the door long after it had been closed. “What am I going to do?” he asked himself, but he had no answer.
Chapter 6
That night, when Brin escorted his wife to their suite in the palace, instead of retiring to his own room as he usually did, he asked her to join him for a nightcap. “What is on your mind?” she asked, accepting the glass of wine he passed to her.
“Sam. Dean has asked for me to keep her here.” He told her everything that had passed between them, then asked for her opinion.
She paused, collecting her thoughts. She was not sure how he would react to what she had to say, so wanted to make sure she said it right.
“If someone is hunting down all those who took part in the quest, then Sam should not be allowed to remain here. It is too dangerous for our people. Please, let me finish,” she said when Brin started to protest. “But you were also on that quest. Whatever danger Sam is in, also applies to you.”
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