Selene’s face loomed above his as he struggled to keep his eyelids open. “Told you so. You were so badly hurt you can hardly stay awake now.”
“Nuh uh.”
“Your eyes are crossing. Take a nap, I’ll keep an eye out.” He followed her advice and was asleep almost before she finished her sentence. It was a peaceful rest, at least in the beginning, but after a while he began to notice a variety of odd pains, particularly in his shoulder.
Something caused his head to jog up and down, so he opened his eyes and found himself looking at the side of Selene’s head. Confused, he took a moment to register the information the rest of his body was providing, and eventually everything sorted itself out. He was being carried piggyback, and given it was Selene doing it, he couldn’t help but be impressed.
She had a healthy frame for a woman, but she was barely more than half his weight. Somehow, she had tied his arms together in front of her, leaving her hands free to clasp his thighs and keep him from sliding down her back. Without anyone else’s assistance, it must have been a near-herculean feat to get in him to that position and then stand up.
“This is getting to be a habit,” he whispered in her ear.
Her reply was accompanied by a significant amount of heavy panting, as well as obvious relief in her voice. “You’re awake!”
“Maybe. It’s hard to say. It might be a dream. You’re in it, after all, but then again, this isn’t the way most of my fantasies go.”
“Can you walk?”
“Probably, but I’d hate to spoil the moment.” With a grunt, she let her legs fold and tried to ease him to the ground. Apparently, she was exhausted, and somewhere along the way he had to extend his legs and catch himself while steadying her to keep them both from falling over sideways. Will sat, and Selene flopped onto her back, spreading her arms and legs out to help cool off. Noting the stars, he remarked, “It’s dark out.”
“Glad you noticed.”
“You should have woken me.”
“I tried,” she said with some exasperation. “If being carried on my back didn’t wake you up, do you think anything else would have? You slept all day. I finally gave up and decided to try and move you somewhere safer for the night.”
“You made a heroic effort. Is this the place?”
“Unless you want to walk the rest of the night. I tried to use a travel-disk, but I can’t sustain the turyn for it. Even small spells make me want to pass out after just a few minutes.”
Will nodded. “That’s one reason you shouldn’t be using spells until you’re done with all the compressions and you’ve finished adjusting. No more magic for you unless something happens to me.” He paused, then added, “That’s an order.”
She growled. “Ungrateful wretch.”
“I’d be more grateful if you carried me the way you did last time. I felt more like a princess then. Piggyback? Today was just laziness on your part,” he shot back, earning a laugh. He was referring to the time he had nearly died in her palace bedroom and she had carried him downstairs in her arms—with the assistance of reinforcement from the earth elemental she had possessed at the time.
Selene recovered quickly. “If we’re going to point out lazy work, I think the regeneration potion you drank was defective.”
Will rolled his left shoulder and felt the skin pull slightly, as though it was too tight. With his other hand, he could feel a certain lumpiness in the area, as though it had scarred. He thought about it a moment, then proposed a theory. “It was a burn. Trolls can’t regenerate properly from burns and acid.”
“Most of it healed,” she noted. “It was just a small area that scarred. I guess that was where it actually charred the flesh.”
“I’ll have to be careful not to be burned half to death then,” said Will dryly, but then another thought occurred to him. “I forgot to ask you about the dead man before we took the potions.”
“I didn’t recognize him,” she said immediately, anticipating his question. “But his clothes and grooming definitely indicated he was a nobleman, probably a third or fourth son who didn’t like the clergy and couldn’t handle a military career.”
Will was impressed. “You read my mind.”
“I had all afternoon to think about it while you slept. I’ll draw a picture of his face when we get home. It might help us find someone who knows who he was.”
“You can draw?”
“Everyone can draw, Will.”
“Well, I mean, you can draw well?”
Having been raised as royalty, Selene wasn’t prone to false modesty. She nodded. “I’ve got a clear hand for putting what I’ve seen to the page, but I wouldn’t consider myself an artist. I don’t have that kind of passion.”
“You never cease to amaze me,” he told her as he got carefully to his feet and began to construct another elemental travel-disk spell. Once it was ready, he helped Selene up and on, where she stood next to him. “Let’s go home.”
The trip was considerably quicker than the carriage ride out had been. Although it was nighttime, he could see clearly, and the travel spell moved several times faster than the carriage had. He didn’t have to worry about a bumpy road or wearing out the horses. They had spent four hours in the carriage that morning, but he got them back to their house in Cerria within an hour and a half.
Blake was surprised to see them return the same day they had left, but they gave him enough of an explanation to satisfy his curiosity and then went to bed. Tired, they substituted a spell for a bath and were soon asleep.
Chapter 10
Will woke first the next morning, but not by much. The two of them had a quick breakfast, courtesy of Jeremy, and they discussed their plans while finishing the toast. Selene studied her husband for a moment. “I’m sure you’ve been thinking. What are your plans for today?”
“I want to go back to the landslide and reexamine a few things. We didn’t do a good job yesterday. I don’t think your sketch will be enough for us to find whoever ordered your assassination.”
Selene took a large bite, nearly swallowing all her remaining bread, then chewed thoughtfully. Her expression seemed to indicate a difference of opinion. Will waited patiently until she had cleared her throat, then she replied, “You’re assuming they meant to kill me.”
“You’re a princess, not me.”
“And I’ve been one since I was born. Most of my value revolves around who I marry, but that’s no longer the case. My political position is well known, and I haven’t changed my stance in years, so very little is different with me. You, on the other hand, are an unknown factor, and you’ve suddenly come into a lot of power with your marriage and your new title. Your elevation will cause a rebalancing of power for a lot of influential figures.”
“That’s all true,” admitted Will, “but this could be similar to what happened with Laina. You’re well known as the chief supporter of her charity. If someone is trying to destabilize the country, they could be targeting you—”
Selene held up her hand. “That’s a stretch. First, the vampires weren’t only targeting Laina. That was simply the point of resistance that got you involved and where the friction began. Second, my enemies are all old and well established—yours are fresh and new. Third, targeting you is a safer prospect than targeting me, though I will admit either of us is risky so long as we are seen as being in my father’s favor. Fourth, and possibly most pertinent, you are soon going to be appointed as the Royal Marshal in the upcoming campaign against Darrow. Don’t you think that will cause a stir?”
Will counted down his fingers. “All right, first, second, and third, I can’t argue against you on those, but number four isn’t known, so it shouldn’t be a factor.”
She laughed. “The palace is full of spies. Spies for Darrow, spies for the lords of the realm—even the merchants have spies listening in case Father makes a decision that will affect trade! Father assumes that his every word will be reported to someone, and the only secrets he believes in are tho
se he hasn’t spoken of—to anyone. Very often he says things with the intention of having them reported to his opponents.”
He frowned. “Are you saying he gave me this title and decided to put me in charge of the war campaign just to get me assassinated?”
Selene shook her head. “No. I’m saying that’s one of his intentions. He would have anticipated resistance to you taking charge of the army, and his plans probably involve both scenarios: your murder or your success. And again, that’s just one intention. He probably is counting on a number of long- and short-term effects from your appointment, and he likely wants you to succeed, but he’ll be ready to profit no matter how things turn out.”
Will scratched his head. “He sounds more and more like the fae and it’s giving me a headache. How long have you been thinking this way?”
“Since I was around ten,” she admitted. “It was the only way to survive.”
“So, what do you plan to do today, given your superior knowledge of politics?”
“I’ll take the high road. I know a few ladies with an almost encyclopedic knowledge of social circles. I may be able to find a name for our mysterious dead sorcerer more easily than you expect.”
Before they split up and went their separate ways, he had Selene teach him the grave-digging spell. Then he took a walk through the city and once beyond the walls, where he would draw less attention, he cast the elemental travel-disk spell and got on his way. When he reached the site of the landslide, he found that little had changed.
The bodies of the dead crossbowmen and sorcerer were all where he and Selene had left them. Will examined them with a combination of fascination and faint disgust. He’d seen a few dead bodies as a child working alongside his mother, and he’d seen far more during the invasion of Barrowden by Darrow, but generally all of them had been fresh bodies. Even after large battles, most of the dead were carted away as soon as possible, unless they were retreating, in which case the enemy was left with the chore.
Either way, he’d rarely seen bodies more than a day old, and he’d never had the chance to examine them closely. The first thing he noticed was that the men’s skin tone had changed, becoming pale and faintly bluish, at least on the parts he could see initially. He turned one of the crossbowmen over before rifling through the man’s pockets and was surprised the see that the skin on the other side had turned a dark purple. Gravity had caused the blood to pool on the downward-facing surfaces, making them darken, while the upper side of the body was pale.
One of the men had been nibbled on by something small, and all of them were beginning to attract ants and other small insects.
From the crossbowmen, he found little of note. Small weapons, a smattering of coins, their crossbows and ammunition—he collected these and stored them away. None of the weaponry was particularly unique, so it wouldn’t provide any clues to their identity, but it was worth a bit of money. Sure, maybe he was one of the richest men in the kingdom, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave valuable equipment to rot on the ground.
As an afterthought, he took their boots as well. Most of them were in decent condition and would fetch a decent price from a reseller. Selene would be aghast if she saw me right now, he thought with a chuckle.
He spent more time on the sorcerer. The man’s clothing was deceptively plain, but the fabric was of high quality, though he didn’t find any embroidery or other marks that might steer him in the direction of who had made the clothes. The man’s personal belongings were likewise ambiguous, a simple gold ring, a small knife, and a purse filled with only seven gold marks and a few silver clima. He had to have been paid a lot more, but he wasn’t stupid enough to bring it with him, Will noted.
Though it seemed disrespectful to the dead, seeing King Lognion strip Darla down to bare skin had taught him a lesson. Sometimes people carried marks on their bodies that might provide useful information. Will carefully cut away the sorcerer’s clothing and pulled off his boots, looking for scars, birthmarks, or even better, a unique tattoo. He found nothing worth mentioning, though.
“That was a waste of time,” Will said quietly. He stored the coins and the ring but stopped before putting the boots in his limnthal, giving them a second look. The boots were probably the most expensive item the nobleman had been wearing, tall riding boots made from rich leather that had been dyed black. They showed all the signs of having been long worn and well loved. The uppers were scuffed but had been recently polished, while the piping seemed somewhat newer.
A richer nobleman would have replaced them before they were that worn, but this man had had them repaired, probably several times, not to mention resoling them. Will turned the boot he held over and looked at the bottom. The sole was definitely newer, with a small heel and no sign of wear in the sheltered part of the instep.
Then he spotted it. The crafter’s mark, or in this case, the sign of the cobbler who had resoled the boot. To Will’s surprise, it seemed familiar. A slow smile spread across his face. As old as the boots were, they had probably been resoled several times, and the cobbler might very well remember them—and their owner.
He stored the boots in his limnthal, and after using the grave-digging spell to bury the bodies, began his return trip to Cerria. He had a friend he wanted to talk to at Wurthaven.
***
Seth stared at him in surprise. “Why would I do that?”
“Your father is a cobbler. I thought you could help me find the owner,” said Will innocently.
“Then ask him,” growled his seldom-seen acquaintance. “I’m just a student trying to get by.”
“You’re still mad at me, aren’t you?”
Seth jerked back from the doorway as though he had been burned. “No! Of course not. I wouldn’t dream of being mad at you.”
Will winced. “That hurts even more. Just because I’m married to the king’s daughter doesn’t mean you need to be afraid of me. Even if you told me to piss off, I wouldn’t hold a grudge or try to do anything to you. I’m not like that.”
Seth’s lips formed a thin line, but he didn’t reply.
Will took a step forward, then paused. “Can I come in? I feel silly standing in the hall.”
His old roommate stepped back and held the door wide. Will stepped in and then took a seat at one of the two small study desks. Seth shut the door and then went to sit on the bottom bunk across from the desks. “I don’t blame you,” he said without preamble. “Just so you know.”
That caught Will by surprise. “For what?”
“For any of it, starting with Dennis and ending with Rob last year.”
Will winced. His friendship with Seth had taken a bad turn after he had challenged and then killed Dennis Spry, the son of Count Spry, in a duel. While it had technically been a duel, Will had set it up deliberately for the express purpose of killing the other student. In his own heart, he had known it was murder, and Seth had never felt comfortable around him since then. Rob’s death, or conversion to vampirism, hadn’t really been his fault, except that Rob wouldn’t have been so unfortunate it if wasn’t for his association with Will. He still didn’t know if his old friend was completely dead, or just mostly dead.
Unsure what to say, he replied, “Thanks.”
Seth leaned forward. “I mean it sincerely. I’ve done a lot of thinking, especially about Janice and what happened with Dennis. What you did was shocking, but looking back, I think you did the right thing.”
Will stared at the floor. “I appreciate that. I’m not sure I agree, but I couldn’t think of anything better.” Hearing Seth’s words removed a weight he hadn’t quite been aware of. In some way, his ex-roommate’s opinion served as a proxy for his own conscience. If Seth pronounced him innocent, maybe he wasn’t completely lost. “You should come over and eat with us sometime.”
Seth’s brows went up. “With Princess Selene? I’m not sure I could keep my food down, I’d be so nervous.”
“She’s not like most nobles, or royals I suppose,” said Will.
“I mean, she’s different, because of how she was raised, but she’s genuinely kind, through and through. She cares about people.”
“I don’t have the clothes either,” argued Seth.
“What you’re wearing is fine. I don’t dress up to go home. Look at me.” Will stood and turned around. “This is how I dress most days.”
“I’ll think about it,” said Seth after a moment. “Let me see the boots.”
Will summoned them from the limnthal and handed them to Seth. His friend turned them over and looked at the sole. Something flickered across his features. “I know the cobbler already.”
“Who?”
“My father. This is his mark.”
“Do you know who owned the boots?”
Seth gave him a look of exasperation. “Just because he’s my father doesn’t mean I know his customers. I’ll have to ask him. Can I hold on to these for a day or two?”
“I need to know quickly. It’s important. I can come with you.”
“It’ll be easier if I talk to him privately. If you show up, he might not speak freely. My family is rather leery of royalty. I can go ask him tonight and let you know tomorrow.”
“It’s very urgent,” admitted Will.
Seth sighed. “It always is with you. Mind telling me exactly why? Or are you going to keep me in the dark the way you did Rob?”
Will blanched as the words struck him like a physical blow. “Just so you know, Seth, I did open up to Rob before the end. It doesn’t change the guilt I feel, but he made his own choice fully knowing the danger.”
“Sorry,” said Seth, sincerity in his voice. “I shouldn’t have said it like that.”
“Someone tried to assassinate Selene,” said Will flatly, baring the truth.
His old roommate’s breath hissed as he took a sharp intake of air. “Don’t joke about that!”
“I’m not.”
Seth was already putting on his shoes and tightening his belt. “I’ll go now. Do you want to wait here, or should I find you at your house?”
Disciple of War (Art of the Adept Book 4) Page 9