“Alex!”
I spun at the unexpected urgency in Jules' voice and watched in shock as two black-clad, masked figures toppled Jules from his horse. In mere seconds, they dragged him to the cover of the dense growth, taking advantage of the natural shadows. Turning my horse to come to his aid, I was shoved from behind and lost my seat. I smacked my side painfully against the hard ground, struggling to catch my breath as my arms were bound behind me. I kicked savagely, blindly, until I could no longer move. Fearful for Jules, I craned my neck to find him trussed as tightly as myself. Anger flared in his eyes as he struggled against the rope holding him captive, though he stopped as a sword point lightly touched his chest.
“Easy, my lord duke.” The sword point glided smoothly through his open cloak to slice through the silk tunic.
Jules held himself still.
“That's better.”
I strained to detect an accent or any clue to our assailant's identity. Jules met my gaze across the open ground between us. Pleading. Pleading? What could I do? I tried to move, but stopped involuntarily as my head was yanked backward. The other thug grabbed a fistful of my hair, twisting it.
“Tell your lady companion to keep still,” advised Jules' assailant, tapping the sword point over Jules’ heart, nearly making my heart stop.
“Alex.” Jules' voice was a croak, though his eyes still pleaded.
Frantic, I tried to figure out what I could do.
“Now, my lord duke.” The sword point danced along Jules' chest, slicing the tunic further, drawing a thin streak of blood along his exposed skin. “I have a message.”
Jules' green eyes widened, but he kept very silent and very still.
“A warning, Duke Barlow.” The black-clad assailant stepped back from Jules, running the sword point upward to his neck before removing it entirely. “We know you’re anxious to slip into the queen’s bed. And we know,” his voice held a chilly smile, “she’s just as anxious to keep you out.”
Jules shut his eyes in denial and pain.
“So take heed, Duke Barlow. We’ve got our eyes on you, should you consider making the queen pay for your humiliation. And,” the voice turned in my direction, “we’re watching the schoolmistress, too. Don’t be foolish. Either of you.” With a muttered word to the rest of his party, the man vanished through the dense undergrowth as though it was all a nightmare.
* * * *
“If you don't stop cursing and hold still, I won't be able to loosen the knot,” I snapped in frustration as the rope slipped from my aching grasp for the third and hopefully last time.
We were sitting back to back along the side of the road, still in the shadow of the dense undergrowth. Obediently, as though he were one of my young charges, Jules sat still, surprising me, though his cursing never stopped. Trying to get my smaller fingers to manipulate the rough cord, I felt the knot loosening.
“There,” I grunted, sweating heavily beneath my woolen cloak from the exertion. “That should do it.” I toppled to my side, unbalanced, as the idiot freed his hands. “Damn it, Jules.”
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Here.” He pulled me upright. “Now you hold still. I'll free your arms. There.”
Briskly rubbing my arms to ease the ache and get the blood flowing again, I leaned over to untie my feet and rubbed my ankles. “Interesting message. Remind me never to go riding with you again. I'd be better off spending time with the sea captain.”
“I have to warn Elena,” he said quietly, ignoring my sarcasm. Helping me to my feet, Jules stood still a moment, gazing out to sea. As though in a fog, bewildered and confused, he shook his head. “I won't let them succeed. If this warning is from the Crown Council—” He stopped abruptly and walked in the direction of the horses. They had only strayed a little way up the road, munching on the nearby grass as though nothing extraordinary happened.
“What?” I pressed, catching up with him, every joint aching from the effort.
“I don't know.” He shrugged. “That's just it. I don't know what to do to protect myself, and you, and Elena from this mess. If only we knew what they were planning, I wouldn’t feel so helpless.”
Helpless. That reminded me.
“Jules?” I said softly, tugging at the edge of his dust-spattered cloak. One hand resting on the saddle, he turned around. “You had a look in your eye when we were held captive. As though you thought I should do something. And I haven't the slightest idea what you thought I should do.”
To my utter surprise, he flushed scarlet, and stiffly adjusted the skewed saddle before mounting his fidgeting horse. “I thought you could do something,” he admitted, ill at ease, cringing at the sudden understanding in my eyes. “I thought—”
What an idiot I'd been.
“You thought,” I interrupted coldly, waving my arm in the direction of the incoming tide, “I should be able to call the waves over the seawall and sweep our assailants away? Or something appropriately seamage-like?” I asked, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice. He didn't answer, or even have the courage to look at me. “Well?”
“Listen, Alex—”
“No. You listen, Jules.” Before he could bolt, I grabbed the edge of his cloak while he steadied his nervous horse. “I don't know how to make it any clearer to you. I'm not a seamage or any other kind of flameblasted mage. I'm sorry, truly. I wish it were otherwise, but it's not.”
“Alex, listen—” he pleaded, expression miserable.
“I'll listen,” I snapped, climbing onto my own restless horse, “but only when you're willing to stop this idiocy.” Without waiting for an answer, I nudged my horse in the direction of Port Alain, and left Jules to find his own way back.
* * * *
For a quiet, gentle-tempered woman, Lauryn continued to knock at my cottage door, refusing to leave me alone. “I know you're in there.” She started to kick at the door while she continued to knock.
I walked across my cluttered sitting room, stepping gingerly over scattered piles of books, to let her in before she damaged the door. Lauryn stood in the doorway, hand and foot upraised to strike again. In silence, she eyed me from head to toe before walking past, muttering something I couldn't quite hear. But the hint of what she might have said left me speechless. Lauryn never cursed. She gracefully removed a rather cumbersome pile of books from the armchair nearest the fireplace and sat, her whole manner radiating annoyance and disgust.
I leaned against the closed door. “Something wrong?”
“You.”
“Me?”
“Don't play innocent. You haven't been to the manor in days except to give the children their lessons. Then you're nowhere to be found the very moment lessons are over. And then—”
“Lauryn—”
“Don't interrupt me, Alex,” she said crossly, blue eyes flashing as I'd never seen before. At least, not at me. “Jules and the boys think you're angry at them. Rosanna thinks you're avoiding her. And no one has the decency to tell me why they think all these things. I don't know what to think. And neither does Khrista.”
I started to laugh.
“What's so damned funny?” She shoved an auburn braid back over her shoulder.
“You. I'm sorry, but this tantrum is rather out of character for you.”
Light blue eyes softened. “I'm worried about you. We all are.”
“I’m all right.”
“No, you’re not. I know you often stay away, but something's not quite right this time. I wish you wouldn't forget…” She hesitated and looked down at her hands which started to fiddle independently with the edge of her forest green tunic.
“Forget what?”
She paused, appraising me again. “Rosanna's never happy when you stay away so long. And it's been unusually long. None of us are happy when you do that. Alex, we're family. I think you forget on purpose because it's easier to be alone and not have to care, or run the risk someone will hurt you or make demands on you,” she blurted.
It wasn't easy to keep my e
xpression neutral when what I hungered to do was weep my heart out, or smash a hundred thousand glasses against the wall or, even better, deny the painful truth of her words. As Lauryn watched, appalled at her outburst, I knew she saw through every emotion that flashed across my face.
“I'm sorry,” she said gently. “I've no right to say horrid things like that.”
“You, of all people, have a right,” I said slowly. “You’re the least likely to make demands on me or pass judgment.”
Lauryn shook her head. “I’m no less guilty, Alex. I want you mindful of where you belong. I'm Rosanna's daughter-in-law, and I'm so much a part of her family. How can you be any less?” When orphan child didn't quite trust herself to answer, Lauryn mumbled another crestfallen apology and stood to leave.
“Lauryn—”
She turned to face me, a guarded expression in her eyes.
“I'm sorry. But there are times I need to be alone. It's not that I don't care.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” She ignored my shaking hand as I clenched my fist and shoved it out of sight. “You're still not sleeping well, are you?”
“No,” I admitted, grateful for an acceptable excuse, “and you know how contentious I get when I'm tired.”
“And need a good meal,” she commented, sounding nothing more than a mother. “You've lost too much weight. I'll tell Rosanna you'll join us for the evening meal tonight.” Before I could protest, she added, “I'll even threaten Jules with bodily harm if he mentions the sea captain in Port Alain,” she said solemnly. “Even once.”
“That bastard—” As she finally laughed at my indignant outburst and released the tension, it occurred to me Jules had probably not said anything about the attack. “I'll come on one condition.”
“Playing hard to catch?”
“No. It's just I'd like to disappear again for a few days, but I don't want the children to miss their lessons. Could you cover for me without telling anyone?” At Lauryn's raised brow, I added, “At least, not right away.”
She tugged on her braid, thinking, eyes fixed on mine. “You won't tell me where you're going.” Blatantly not a question.
“At the moment, I'd rather not.”
“I didn't think so.” She nodded once. “All right.” One slender finger pointed straight at my heart. “But it'll cost you.” I crossed my arms and leaned against the cottage wall, waiting patiently for her terms. “Dinner this evening and dinner when you return from whatever little adventure you’re plotting.”
I considered the trade. Not too costly. “Deal.”
“Rosanna and the boys will be pleased,” she said, making her way back to the cottage door. “And, Alex,” she smiled with just a hint of uncharacteristic smugness, “I'm not stupid. I know just how much you can afford to pay.”
* * * *
And pay I did, but everyone was well behaved, making me suspicious all around. I headed back to the path that led to my cottage after a marvelous meal of lamb roast, sweet onions, and brandied carrots. At the sound of a voice hailing me, I stopped at the gate. Kerrie, the Barlows’ steward and Khrista’s lover, gasped for air as he caught up to me, dark hair tousled from his scramble.
“How is it possible Khrista let you out of her sight?”
The young man grinned, flushed with embarrassment. “Only until she’s read the twins a story and tucked them into bed. Then she’ll hunt me down.” His expression grew abruptly serious, warning me.
“You were eying me all night. Something wrong?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of the others. You know how they all fret over you.”
“I wish they didn’t. Not so much, anyway.”
“They mean well.”
“So do you. Obviously,” I smiled, erasing my frown to reassure Kerrie, “since they have you fretting, too. What’s on your mind?”
“Jules and I were in town earlier to look at the shipment of wool that just arrived. When we were done, he headed back, and I stopped at the Seaman’s Berth.”
“That where you get your news?”
“Some of it, yes. Chester asked me to pass a word on to you. There’s a gentleman staying there, been there a while. Name of Anders Perrin.”
I shrugged. “Don’t know him.”
“He’s been asking about you.”
I thought about the stranger who eavesdropped on my conversation with Jules some weeks ago. “Why?”
“Chester has no idea, but he’s worried.”
“If he’s the same gentleman who was there—”
“When you and Jules stopped in together one morning some weeks ago?” Kerrie asked, nodding at my expression. “Same one. Is that good or bad?”
“I don’t know, but Jules is keeping an eye on him. So far, the man’s been wandering around the town, seeing the sights.”
“And asking about you and the mage council. Something else, Alex. Neal Brandt’s been asking Chester’s little girl about you, too.”
A shiver crept up my spine. “I’ve got nothing he’s interested in.”
“Chester thinks it has to do with your mother.” Kerrie flushed. “Sorry, Alex. I know you don’t like talking about her in connection with the mage councils, but the innkeeper wanted you to be careful.”
“I will.”
“Damn hard time to be a mage, if you ask me. Everyone’s edgy.”
“So I noticed.”
* * * *
Some days later, I followed the Marain Valley route north again, back to Ardenna, but not through the tunnel this time. My destination was different. I timed my visit to coincide with the secret meeting Jules mentioned days earlier. The one Elena was going to infiltrate. I wanted to see for myself what was going on. A short distance outside the city gates, I stopped for a brief rest along the side of the road. The Dunneal fortress rose in an attempt at majesty from the heart of the city, turrets stretching to the heavens. Around the huge structure, Ardenna spread out in haphazard fashion. Merchants, courtiers, crafters, military troops, mages, whores, and visitors, all with their own brand of peculiar needs etched out their private niches.
Busy, impersonal, overcrowded, noisy, and rude, the city represented everything I despised. It took every ounce of self-control not to turn and flee back to the sanity of my simple cottage. But I was here for a number of reasons. Not only to keep an eye on Charlton Ravess, and possibly Seamage Brandt, but also to give Jules the benefit of the doubt once more. To see if I could find out anything more about his supposed treachery. That reason was far more important. I needed some final reassurance my closest friends weren't lying to me, that it was just a misunderstanding, and I had nothing to fret about.
With a deep sigh, I scanned the horizon. Shouldering my pack, I approached the south gate in time to mingle with a boisterous group of traveling actors. Trying to be inconspicuous, I kept a steady pace as I passed through the gate, heading toward the mage district and the Crown Council's lavish residences at its center. I stopped at a vendor to buy hot cinnamon bread and spiced beef, with a ridiculously high-priced glass of Marain wine. After which I waited impatiently until near dark to make my unobtrusive way to Ravess' home. Taking my cue from Jules' comments, I calculated the next night marked the clandestine gathering of council mages from the duchies. A gathering my rogue mother would've avoided at all costs, unless she wanted to spy and gather information.
Using the dark to its full advantage, I made my way over the low stone wall separating Ravess’ residence from those of the other mages. Either he protected himself by arcane means, in which case, I'd never be able to tell, or he was arrogant enough to believe himself invulnerable. I took the risk he was arrogant. Creeping around the side of the house, I caught sight of a lamp shining in a back window. With all the stealth I possessed, which wasn't very much, I inched my way against the wall and peeked through the open window. The mage's distinctive thick white hair was my first sight, and then his profile. His sharply defined features were unforget
table, particularly when those rich brown eyes filled with loathing.
The mage was engrossed in a book. Turning a page, he reached for a glass of clear liquid. If I were lucky, it would be poison. Swiftly, I ducked out of sight as he looked around in an almost absent manner. Maybe he did use arcane protection.
I flattened myself against the wall and slithered farther away, still keeping the mage in sight. A flicker of lamplight caught my attention as the flame grew larger, the chamber brighter. An effortless maneuver by the firemage increased the light, as effortless as Neal Brandt’s trick with water weeks earlier, as effortless as my own trickery years ago.
Were they all right? Was it fear that kept my own magic so deeply hidden, even from me? Unexpectedly, the gentleman from the Seaman’s Berth drifted into my thoughts, sea-gray eyes locked on my face. Who was he? And why was he asking about me? Was the Crownmage real? Was I in danger I really didn’t understand?
Heaving a melodramatic sigh of disgust, I crouched low to the ground, making my way to a safer position where I could still keep an eye on the window. I settled my cloak tighter around my shoulders, prepared for a long, sleepless night.
A long sleepless night and day later, I ached in every bone and joint of my miserable body. All for nothing. The firemage hadn't budged from his home, but he hadn't any visitors either. Maybe his plans changed, or maybe Elena's spies were misinformed, or maybe I was just wasting time. But instinct was screaming at me again, and I forced myself to stay one more night. Had I miscalculated the days? I tallied them in my head according to what Jules told me. No mistake.
Uneasy because nothing changed, I crawled to the nearest inn and slept for a full day and night before heading south to Port Alain, dazed and bewildered, still unsure of my friends.
Chapter Eight
“This squall isn't natural.” My comment was directed at Jules as we watched the dark, distant cloudbank rapidly glide across the horizon and turn with distinct sharpness toward our ship.
“It's just a bay storm.”
Didn’t he notice the swift change in direction? “Out of season, from the wrong direction, and utterly controlled.”
Mage Confusion (Book 1) Page 6