by Erin Beaty
You want me to ride, Darnessa? Fine. You asked for it.
31
DUKE D’AMIRAN LOOKED up from his late dinner in the Great Hall of Tegann as the bound man was brought before him. The captive’s black-and-gold livery was torn and muddy, and he reeked of sweat and excrement. D’Amiran covered his nose with a lemon-scented handkerchief and motioned for the gag to be loosened.
“Traitor!” the courier sputtered. He tried to spit, but his mouth was too dry.
The duke remained composed. The man would plead for death soon enough, but D’Amiran doubted he knew much worth the effort. He had a few questions, though, mostly about why his brother was having so much trouble finding the prince. It was making his allies restless.
“How did we acquire this man?” he asked.
Captain Geddes habitually tugged his left ear, which was missing a large chunk. “Our Kimisar friends caught him. He carried a dispatch from General Quinn intended to meet the escort commander when he stopped at Underwood.” He pulled a bundle of papers from his jacket and laid it on the table. “The letters are in code.”
The duke glanced through them as he addressed the prisoner. “Am I correct in assuming you don’t know how to translate these?”
“Yes.” The courier looked back steadily.
“I can find out for you, Your Grace,” the captain offered.
D’Amiran shook his head. “I doubt General Quinn would go through the trouble of coding messages only to send the key with them.” He pursed his lips. “It does bother me he’d use such precautions, though. He must have suspicions.” D’Amiran covered his nose again as he gestured for the man to be taken away. “Focus your efforts on those topics, Captain.”
The guards began dragging the courier toward the back door of the hall. The man didn’t struggle, but he didn’t cooperate, either.
“Do me a favor, Captain,” the duke called through his makeshift mask. The head guard turned back. “Wait until I’m done eating before you get too involved. It’s difficult to properly digest to the sound of screaming.”
32
SAGE ROSE EARLY and dressed in her breeches, boots, and linen shirt with a heavy felt vest, binding and covering her hair with a wool cap and the hood from her faded brown jacket, then packed her belongings and left the guest wing before anyone else stirred. She strolled to the kitchens, blending in with the servants and common soldiers and grabbing a quick breakfast before heading to the stables. After locating the lead hostler, she asked him which of the horses was designated for Lady Sagerra. He pointed it out, glad to delegate another task on the busy morning. She picked through the cavalry’s spare gear until she found a saddle with stirrups already set to the right length and carried it to the stall.
They hadn’t patronized her by giving her a pony or a packhorse, but rather a spare mount of one of the riders. She offered the dark gray mare an apple and began brushing her down with a curry comb, making friends quickly. After checking the animal over for signs of lameness or injury, Sage pulled the saddle down from the stall door and heaved it over the mare’s high back.
As she bent over to cinch the girth, she heard a familiar voice. “Boy, that saddle needs an over-cantle for a lady—you’ll have to put it on before you cinch it down.” Sage grinned and didn’t acknowledge him.
Ash pulled the stall door open and walked up behind her. “Did you hear me? You have to put the side cantle over that first.” He grabbed her arm, and she stood straight to face him.
“If you don’t mind, I’d just as soon go without it,” she said.
He froze in shock, his hand grasping her forearm. She came up to his chin, but this close she had to crane her neck to meet his eyes. “If you’d ever tried to ride in a skirt, you’d know why.”
Ash released her arm and stepped back, his mouth falling open. The way his eyes roved over her was no different from the way others stared when they saw her in breeches, but she had to resist the urge to turn her backside away from his lingering gaze. He shook his head. “Riding in the front of a wagon or sidesaddle is one thing, my lady, but I think Mistress Rodelle will draw the line at this.”
Sage winked at him. “Then I suggest you help me stay out of sight until it’s too late.”
Outside she turned her face to the sun and soaked in the warm rays. She wouldn’t miss that silly hat, though she’d end the day with far more freckles than she started with. It seemed a fair trade for the freedom she gained. Once on the road, Sage observed the landscape with fascination. Crop fields were less common as the terrain became rockier, and the wooded areas they passed through were broader. The group was beginning to cross Tasmet, which wasn’t technically another country, but it felt exotic to her. In Crescera, only the richer houses were built out of stone, while peasants built with wood and thatched with grass. Here even the poorest homes were made from stone and had slate roofs.
At first she was embarrassed, thinking she came across as a wide-eyed country girl, especially now that she knew Ash’s true identity. He’d also been in the province with the army for years, so nothing was new to him, but he seemed to take delight in her impressions, pointing out trace veins of colorful minerals threading the walls they passed. Her self-consciousness slowly melted away.
Ash was also much more open to her questions about the army. He talked about his fellow soldiers like they were his brothers, which she supposed they were. Sage wondered how he felt about that. “You know about my family,” she said. “What’s yours like?”
He shrugged. “Not much to tell. My father is … well-known. I grew up seeing him from a distance. Mother was devoted to me, but I’ve only seen her a few times in recent years. The army is my family now.” He avoided her eyes. “I suppose my name makes it obvious what I am.”
“Which makes no difference to me,” she said, realizing he wasn’t ready to reveal himself yet. “Tell me about page training. I can hardly believe some of the duties your captain trusts Charlie with.”
Ash drew his brows together. He had the darker skin of an Aristelan as well as the nearly black hair. She’d never be able to match his color even if she stayed outdoors all summer, contrary to her aunt’s endless lectures on ruining her complexion. “What I remember most was the hazing, the way the older boys tormented the younger ones. Quinn’s father was a colonel back then, and the day after Quinn arrived, he marched right up to his father and said he wanted out of the army if he was going to have to serve with twats like them for the rest of his life.”
Sage chuckled despite her dislike of the captain. “I guess his father made him stay.”
Ash shook his head. “His father told him he could go home if he wanted—it wasn’t like anyone was showing the brats how to act any better.” He smiled tightly. “Quinn took it as a challenge and went back to the pages’ tent and picked a fight.”
Sage snorted. “I suppose he won all the boys’ respect that day and made lieutenant the next week.”
Ash ignored her sarcasm. “No. Got licked pretty badly, but he refused to name whoever had beat him. I guess it was only right, seeing as he started it.” He stared at his mount’s ears. “That was the beginning of a very rough year for him. I’ll never know why he didn’t quit.”
“What happened?” She found it a bit intriguing. “He obviously made it through and succeeded.”
“Don’t really know,” said Ash. “He just worked at being and doing what was right, slowly gaining friends—myself among them—until just about everyone looked up to him somehow. He took that responsibility very seriously. Still does. By the time we were squires, all the fighting and hazing had stopped and the pages were handling duties usually left to squires, who were then able to focus higher.”
The dedication Quinn’s friends had to him ran deep, back into childhood. She couldn’t help but feel it drove them all to please him now, even when his orders weren’t pleasant. Though now he was forcing only minor lies and deceptions, it likely wouldn’t stop there unless someone stood up to him.
Ash turned his face to her. The sunlight hit his dark eyes at an angle, making them shine with a rich mahogany color. “So the short answer is: at Charlie’s age, we didn’t do those things. What a missed opportunity.”
Sage caught that Ash had been a page and squire himself, yet he wasn’t an officer. She was about to ask why when he said, “How about you, Lady Sagerra? Did you get in any fights as a child? Or did you just throw pinecones down on your enemies?”
He was teasing, but she answered truthfully. “Three fights, actually. I lost the first. Father said I was being honorable with a boy too cowardly to pick on someone his own size. So in our next matchup I used my left knee to great effect. I don’t think he walked straight for weeks.”
Ash cringed. “And the third?”
“It was more a contest of wits against an unarmed opponent.”
“You cannot leave me hanging with that.”
Sage shrugged. “He was an empty braggart, talking down girls, points of which I mostly agreed with, but when he said he could beat any girl at anything, short of weeping, I challenged him to Kimisar arm wrestling.” Ash had never heard of it. “That’s because I made it up,” she explained. “I would try to pull his arm down while he resisted with his elbow levered on a table.” She held her arm out with her fist facing her to show him.
“Sounds like you had the easier part.”
She nodded. “That’s what he said. So I asked what was he afraid of, being he was so much better.”
“Who won?”
“Depends on your point of view. I only pulled his arm down about so far.” She opened her arm to a wide angle and turned to Ash with a wicked grin. “But then I let go.” She snapped her arm back, demonstrating how he punched himself in the face.
Ash burst into laughter, startling their horses and everyone around them. After the initial blast, he worked to bring himself under control. Sage thought for a moment he might actually fall off his horse. The other soldiers stared, but he waved them off as he gasped for breath and tears rolled down his cheeks. He finally calmed down and wiped his eyes with his gloved hands. “Oh, I can’t believe you did that. It’s positively diabolical.”
“I couldn’t believe it worked as well as it did,” Sage said, shaking her head. “It knocked him right out of his chair and cut his lips on his teeth. There was blood everywhere.” Ash started snickering again. “The best part was his face.” She put her fist to her mouth again and made a comical expression of horror. “Of course, Uncle William didn’t think it was so funny. Nor did the boy’s father.”
Ash clutched his sides like he was holding himself together. When Sage heard her own peal of laughter, it struck her she hadn’t truly laughed in a very long time.
* * *
Their first stop to rest and stretch made Sage realize a problem her clothing presented. An outside observer would assume she was a common man, so she couldn’t sit with the ladies. She would’ve taken her breaks with Ash, but he had important matters to discuss with the officers and firmly insisted she couldn’t be anywhere near them. Sage decided eating alone was a small price to pay for the privilege of riding.
When they stopped for lunch, Ash excused himself, mentioning he would take a turn on patrol as soon as they were back on the road. Sage had already established she neither needed nor wanted any assistance dismounting, so Lieutenant Casseck waited until she was on the ground before approaching. He also looked to be over the shock of seeing her dressed and riding like a man. “My lady,” he said. “I have a request from Captain Quinn concerning his brother, Charlie.”
She glanced over at Quinn leading his horse to where another officer and Ash gathered near a makeshift table with a map spread over it. “Why can’t he ask himself?”
Casseck shrugged. “It’s my job to carry out his ideas.”
Sage rolled her eyes. She’d faint of shock the day Quinn did something himself rather than give orders. Or perhaps he was too embarrassed to face her after making Ash lie, in which case he wasn’t lazy, he was a coward. “Go ahead, then.”
“You’re aware our situation has developed a degree of danger. The captain feels if he puts Charlie under your supervision, he’ll have less to worry about. Charlie will still have page duties, but he’d be assigned partly to you and the other ladies. Carter can’t ride at your side all day, nor can he eat with you, but Charlie can.”
She tilted her head up to meet Casseck’s eyes. “Am I correct in assuming if we’re attacked, Charlie is less likely to be harmed if he’s part of the women’s group?”
The lieutenant grimaced. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean we expect such an attack.”
He might be telling the truth. That morning the soldiers were alert but not as nervous as before, though all had been fully armed. She opened her mouth to ask what they did expect, but Casseck cut her off.
“My lady, you asked how you can help us, and it is truth when I say this will allow us to focus more on understanding the threat. This isn’t a minor request. Captain Quinn doesn’t give up control easily, especially over his brother.”
Sage sighed and nodded. “I will for Charlie’s sake.” She felt a little patronized, but the fact that Quinn was concerned for Charlie’s safety gave her chills. Who out there would harm a child?
33
SAGE WATCHED ASH ride ahead on his patrol after lunch. He seemed confident he’d be back by the time they stopped for the evening, but the way Casseck frowned as he watched him go concerned her. Why would Quinn send Ash out alone? The captain strutted around giving orders as they prepared to move on.
She settled into the saddle and turned to Charlie beside her. “Your brother looks like a man of action, always in a hurry.”
Charlie nodded. “Father says he assigned him this job to learn patience.”
Sage stifled a laugh. Perhaps his father knew he wasn’t quite as wonderful as everyone thought.
“Want to see my knife?” Charlie asked. “Mother had it made special.” He unhooked the dagger belted at his waist, proudly displaying the gold initials inlaid on the hilt. It looked huge in his small hand. “My brother has one, too.”
“My father gave me my own knife when I was your age,” Sage said. “But I lost it.” She told him how she had run away and when her uncle had found her and carried her home, the knife was left behind in the ravine.
Charlie’s brown eyes widened. “Why did you run away, my lady? Was your uncle cruel?”
“At the time, I thought so.” She smiled sadly. “My father had just died, you see, and when someone you love is in trouble or dead, you don’t always think clearly.”
“Father says clear thinking is an officer’s most valuable asset,” said Charlie solemnly.
“I imagine he knows from experience,” she replied with equal gravity.
* * *
Ash hadn’t returned by the time they arrived at the next estate. Middleton Manor had high and thick walls in the style she’d noticed in places they’d passed since leaving Underwood. Tasmet had endured centuries of fighting and invasions. She imagined if they traveled south toward Kimisara, such homes would be even more fortified. Sage helped Charlie carry her trunk to the room she and Clare would share, sensing a growing uneasiness in the soldiers as they watched the eastern approaches for their missing companion. Dinner had passed and the sun was setting when the escort began organizing a search party.
Sage, now in a dress, watched the officers confer from atop the estate’s outer wall. Charlie fidgeted beside her, and she tried to soothe him despite her own fears. She intended to force some straight answers from Casseck tonight, but at the moment he was giving instructions. Captain Quinn stood at his side, arms folded. How could he look so unconcerned? Didn’t he feel any guilt for having sent Ash out on his own? She’d never seen him go out on a patrol himself, and while Sage didn’t know much about the army, that struck her as wrong. A commander should never order others to do what he wasn’t willing to do himself.
Five riders were armed and mo
unting up when four short horn blasts sounded in the distance. The soldiers instantly relaxed, and Charlie sagged against her in relief.
Several minutes later, a large dog bounded down the road in the dusk, followed by Ash on his brown horse, riding as though he was eager to get back to them, but not rushed. The gate opened, and he trotted through, making a series of hand signals to the riders in the courtyard. Casseck jerked his head at the assembled team, and they headed back to the stables with their mounts.
Casseck approached Ash as he dismounted. “Sorry to make you worry, Cass,” Sage heard Ash say. “But it was well worth it.”
The lieutenant tilted his head and pointed with his eyes to the wall where Sage stood with Charlie, and Ash turned to wave at them before walking away with Casseck. Charlie made to run down after them, but she grabbed him.
“Wait, Charlie. I’m sure they have important matters to discuss. We know he’s safe now; you should go to bed.”
“But I’m sure he’s hungry. I’ll get him something to eat.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s late. I’ll take care of it.” The page made to protest again, but she raised a finger. “Your brother put me in charge of you, soldier, and I say, go to bed.” She pointed to the barracks. “Now.”
Charlie obeyed with a sullen “Yes, ma’am,” and Sage headed to the kitchens and asked for a tray of food. Her arms full, she crossed the yard and pried the stable door open with her foot, using her hip to angle it just wide enough to pass through. Other than horses, the stables were nearly deserted, and she slipped quietly along the stalls toward the voices at the far end. Lieutenant Casseck was lecturing Ash.
She crept closer to the stall door and paused behind a dividing wall, just out of sight. Through a space between the planks, she saw Casseck looking down and to the rear of the horse, but Ash was out of view. “You had everyone scared, you know,” the lieutenant said.