by Erin Beaty
“Why should we not take him? He is the goal. The earlier the better.”
“Earlier is not better—it could ruin everything. Nothing has changed other than the time he’s in our grasp, and it’s an advantageous change.” He set the goblet on the table. “I instructed my brother to have your men create as much havoc as they like on the eastern side of the mountains. They may keep anything they manage to carry back across the pass here—it’s of no concern to me.”
Huzar’s face relaxed slightly, but he said nothing.
“The prince and the others will be here in two days. If your men have done their job—”
“They have,” Huzar interrupted.
“—then there’s nothing to be troubled over.” D’Amiran clenched his jaw. “We’ll hold the prince and signal when we’re ready to give him to you. In the meantime, you shouldn’t come here again until we call for you.”
A servant set a large, steaming dish of sliced beef on the table. Huzar’s stomach growled audibly. “I do not like the calendar. Why do you wait so many days before acting?”
D’Amiran leaned forward and scooped a pile of the meat onto a serving fork, dripping bloody juice across the table as he brought it to his plate. “Patience, my friend. Moving against the crown is no small matter. I must prove to my allies I have the ability to win, and I must know where the Demoran army is before I march.” He stabbed the serving fork into the meat and left it upright. “Consider this: we could’ve slaughtered this cow months earlier, but we would’ve had much less to eat. Waiting until the time was right allows us to feed many more.”
Huzar stared at the food. “More meat is no good if many starve waiting for it.”
“Consider also that starving in solidarity does not help you perform your tasks.” The duke put a forkful in his mouth and chewed deliberately.
The Kimisar captain swallowed. “Your points are taken. We shall wait. For now.”
“I’ll have my cook prepare a gift for you to take back to your men.” D’Amiran smiled benevolently. “For your strength and patience.”
Huzar nodded once. “We will need both.”
41
MEN WONDERED WHY women loved embroidering, but Quinn suspected it gave them an excuse to focus away from a conversation, to avoid direct looks, as the matchmaker did now. He clasped his hands behind his back and waited for her to begin.
“Things are going well for Ash Carter,” she said from her seat by the fire. “Though I didn’t appreciate it when he disappeared with her for over two hours, attending page or not.”
Quinn shrugged in what he hoped was an indifferent manner. “She was never in any danger. We needed to cement her trust after keeping so much from her.”
“And that’s the real reason?” she asked, pursing her lips.
“I’m not sure what you’re implying. I felt obligated to let her see something important. That she follows Ash’s lead is critical.”
Mistress Rodelle continued speaking to her work. “I need you to promise me something.”
His shoulders tensed with the urge to cross his arms. “I can’t make blind promises.”
“This is a simple request for Sage’s safety.” The matchmaker’s evasiveness dropped as she looked up. “If she’s to be under your command, you must assure me that as with any other soldier, she’s able to defend herself.”
His eyebrows shot up. “You want me to arm her and teach her to fight?”
The wooden hoop lowered several inches. This was important to her. “I don’t want her helpless. It’s unfair to make her risk her life without some knowledge in how to defend it.”
Quinn closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s not a pleasant thought, teaching someone like her to kill.”
“The alternative is worse, Captain,” she reminded him.
“She’ll have to trust Ash more than she currently does.”
The matchmaker looked down at her work again. “I think you know exactly how to do that.”
42
SAGE’S THOUGHTS SWIRLED and tumbled like the leaves whipped about by wind from the coming rain. Every time she thought they’d settled, she caught sight of Ash, and her stomach fluttered. Until last night, she hadn’t realized how rarely Ash touched her. When the horse knocked her into his arms, she’d felt the briefest … something.
But he hadn’t even looked at her. And that something had vanished like smoke.
Ash had greeted her with his usual “Good morning, friend,” and shortly after setting out, he’d left her alone with Charlie. Sage didn’t blame him for being too busy to ride with her, but even with Charlie by her side she felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness. She told herself it was because Darnessa had said she had to ride in the wagon tomorrow since they would be arriving at Tegann and she had work to do. Even if doing so would be helpful to Ash and the soldiers, she didn’t look forward to it.
The train of wagons drew to a halt, and Sage looked around. Ahead she could see a haze sweeping toward them over the hills. The soldiers began lashing down the wagon covers and pulling out rain cloaks. Ash brought his brown mare up on her right. “The rain will start soon,” he said. “Captain wants you and Charlie to ride in the cart for the rest of the day. There’s no reason for either of you to get soaked.” He dismounted and raised his hands to her.
“I can get down myself,” she said, irritated. Nobody ever offered to help Charlie on and off his horse, and he was only nine.
“I know you can,” Ash replied. “But you’re in pain, I can see it. You’re not used to riding this much.” He continued holding his arms out.
Three days of riding had caught up to her. Sage tried not to flush at the idea of him noticing which of her parts were sore. With a resigned sigh, she gingerly swung her left leg over the pommel to dismount facing him. She reached for his hands, but they slipped past her arms to grab her waist. He lowered her to the ground between the two horses, making no move to release his hold. Sage became acutely aware no one could see them.
Ash looked down on her. “Better?” he asked softly. She nodded and reached for the bridle, but his hands tightened, and she looked back up, startled. He leaned closer. “You have to play the lady again tomorrow, don’t you?” he whispered.
The searching look in his dark eyes terrified her, and she tried to cover with a flippant response. “I’m afraid so. With a dress and everything.”
He ignored her tone. “I’ll miss our talks.”
Heat seeped into her cheeks. “Maybe when we leave Tegann, I can ride again.”
“I was hoping we could spend some time together in Tennegol. I could introduce you to my father. Maybe find you a teaching position there.”
“I don’t—I didn’t…” She took a deep breath to steady herself. He was so close, he filled all her senses. The scent of his leather jacket mingled with the evergreen shaving lather he used. “I don’t want special favors from you.”
“I know. You’re one of the very few who doesn’t. You have no idea how that feels.”
Her eyes drifted to his mouth. He hadn’t missed a spot this morning. She licked her lips nervously. “Actually, I do. No one pays attention to me unless they want something.”
“Which is why you prefer the company of children.”
Sage blinked. “Generally, yes.”
“And my company?” The gentle pressure of his fingers pulled her closer.
Panic welled in her throat, and Sage gripped his sleeves to keep herself upright, realizing only then that her arms rested over his. She locked her knees in place and forced herself to toss her head and lift her hands away. “Has been pleasant.”
“Pleasant.” Ash dropped his hands and stepped back, his mouth pulling into a thin line. He shook his head and made a quiet noise of disgust. “I suppose I shouldn’t have expected anything more.”
He snatched the reins of the two horses and stormed away without a backward glance.
* * *
Sage rode in the equipment wagon,
trying to make out the shapes of the riders behind them. The rain pelting the canvas cover was too loud for any conversation with Charlie, who stretched out beside her and dozed against his saddle, and she felt grateful to be alone with her thoughts.
Ash had been right when he said she preferred to be around children. Their motives were simple and pure. They trusted completely, loved and wept without restraint, hated without guilt—things she hadn’t done in the years since Father died.
Darnessa used her. Uncle William used her. Aunt Braelaura tried to make her into something she could never be. Clare needed her strength and guidance.
But Ash wanted things for her.
He wanted to make her happy, tried to include her when he could, offered to arrange something he knew she’d like, but would never ask for. And when he’d learned she wasn’t a bride, he wanted to know if she would still be getting married. Why? He could have anyone he wanted. Until an hour ago, she never would’ve considered he might want her.
But then she’d panicked and ruined it. Ash wasn’t the type to give up easily, though. Would he try again?
Did she want to say the right things if he did? Sage closed her eyes and remembered the way he looked at her, the way it felt when he held her waist and leaned close.
Yes. She did.
* * *
Sage dozed off next to Charlie and napped through the afternoon until the next stop. She woke to Ash unlatching the rear gate of the wagon, and she struggled to sit up and catch his eye. He focused on Charlie, pulling the sleeping boy to the edge by the crate he lay across while she rubbed her face and prepared to say what she’d rehearsed.
Ash, I should have thanked you for your offer; it just took me by surprise …
He never looked in her direction, though, just hefted the boy into his arms and strode away without speaking. She was left to climb out on her own and follow the ladies to their rooms. At the last second, she remembered how she was dressed and went back to the baggage cart and pulled her heavy trunk onto her back.
43
LORD FASHELL HAD them for only one night, but he went all out, treating his guests to a full banquet. He’d even produced a quartet of musicians, which meant there would be dancing afterward, too. Sage struggled through dinner. She was seated far from Clare and next to the younger sons of the household. Like most men she met, they spent the evening trying to impress her with their accomplishments and connections. Belatedly she remembered she had a job to do, and her mind automatically began tallying what she would write down later, but she still listened with only one ear.
“As the nearest estate to Tegann, we have a great responsibility to Duke D’Amiran,” the one on her right said.
Sage’s head whipped around at the mention of the duke. “Oh really?”
The young man—green eyes, left-handed, sunburned, one inch taller than her, callused hands, well-used dagger at his side … what was his name?… Bartholomew—continued, “Almost everyone going to or from the capital stays here. Right now the pass is still closed to wagons, so there will be a backup of travelers. You ladies have places reserved at Tegann, of course, so you’ll wait there until it’s clear, but soon the fortress will be crowded. Some may turn back to us if the rains take too long to arrive.”
“Father received several letters today, begging his hospitality in advance,” put in the brother on her left (blue eyes, right-handed, missing half his left pinky). “Fortunately, he can afford it.”
She widened her eyes. “You have an advantage over me! I have no idea who’ll be there.”
The brothers rattled off names, many of which she recognized but made little sense. Few had enough property to be considered seriously for a Concordium match, and most had something in common she couldn’t put her thumb on. As she’d never met any of them, however, she encouraged the young men to describe each one, laughing and commenting on how witty their impressions were.
When the last plates were cleared away, both brothers asked her to dance, and she forced them to flip a coin to see who would get the favor first. As Bartholomew led her away, she cast a disappointed pout to the other—what was his name?—to placate him. She was pleased to see Lieutenant Gramwell had taken Clare to a quiet corner, reminding Sage she still needed to speak with Darnessa, and she grimaced. The matchmaker would probably not be happy over what was developing. Sage was surprised she hadn’t already noticed.
“Is something wrong, my lady?” her partner asked.
“Oh, no,” Sage said with false brightness. “I just remembered I tore the hem of my blue dress getting down from that wretched wagon, and I forgot to tell the maid to fix it.” She made a sulky face. “I don’t think it will be repaired in time for the first banquet at Tegann, and it’s my best color.”
“Now I’m disappointed, Lady Sagerra, that I shan’t see it, if it looks even lovelier than this one.”
She blushed. “Don’t tease me; you know I’ll be married in just a few weeks.” Sage tilted her chin down and looked up at him through her long lashes. “I just hope he dances as well as you,” she said a little breathlessly, leaning into him. He beamed and held her tighter.
As her partner spun her around, Sage caught Lieutenant Casseck watching her with an amused smile. Her own expression faltered. What if he told Ash about her flirting? Would Ash think it was a message that his feelings didn’t matter to her? Would he suspect her motives if she tried to reverse what happened this morning?
Why did this have to be so complicated?
* * *
Sage flipped through her ledger, adding notes from that night’s conversations. A name mentioned caught her eye, and she stopped to read about him. Apparently the lord sounded familiar because he’d proposed to one of the brides last winter. She paused again when she saw another had proposed to Lady Jacqueline. Both were refused, of course. The coincidence struck her, though, and she turned to the pages where she’d summarized the information on the Concordium brides.
She frowned as she studied matches they’d turned down, or rather, their parents had turned down on their behalf. Girls with a chance of making it into the Concordium usually declined or delayed suitors in the year before the conference. Interestingly, not a single proposal had been presented by a matchmaker, but as Darnessa had complained last month, there were quite a few marriages that had gone through, of late.
Sage tore a blank page from the back of the ledger and tallied the recent matches between families from Crescera and Tasmet, finding and writing down fourteen—all arranged by the D’Amirans. Why? And why so many? Such unions weren’t unheard of—they usually brought some advantage the families wanted, but fourteen in two years was well outside normal. She went back through the pages and copied the dowries next to the pairings.
Eight involved troops and arms, ostensibly to help protect from Kimisar raids, totaling over 1,800 men. Two were large sums of gold. Three traded massive amounts of wheat and other grains. The remainder was a combination of weapons, gold, and food. In total, it was enough for a small army.
The D’Amirans were building an army.
Sage drew a line down the middle of her page and listed the women with them on the other side. Next to each name she detailed the assets she knew by heart: money, militias, property, connections. Every lady was a prize. It was why Darnessa had chosen them.
And tomorrow, like flies in a web, they’d be trapped at Tegann and surrounded by spiders.
She had to tell Captain Quinn.
* * *
Casseck and Gramwell passed Sage and entered a room at the end of the barracks passage, but she waited until Ash appeared, headed for the same room before reaching out of the shadows. He grabbed her hand and twisted it back sharply before releasing it with a scowl. “Don’t ever sneak up on me like that. I could’ve broken your wrist.”
“I’m sorry,” she gasped. Spirit above, she’d forgotten about how upset he was with her over this morning. Would he even listen? “I need to talk to Captain Quinn.”
&nbs
p; His scowl grew darker. “Why?”
“It’s not a simple matter,” she insisted. “And we can’t be overheard.”
Ash pressed his lips together. “Fine.” He took her arm and led her back down the passage to a room she assumed he shared with another soldier. He grabbed a candle and stepped back out to light it on the torch outside, then closed and bolted the door behind him. He put his hands on his hips. “It’s risky for you to come down here.”
“You think a fowler doesn’t know how to move through the shadows?” She didn’t wait for his response. “First, I want to know why you won’t take me to Captain Quinn.”
“His speaking to you is dangerous. If people see it, they might think you know what we’re up to. Tomorrow I’ll be driving a wagon again. You can order me around as needed to speak to us, or go through Charlie.” He paused. “I’ve answered you as best I can; now please tell me what is so important it couldn’t wait until tomorrow.”
“I know what’s going on.” Sage pulled out the folded parchment. “Tonight I learned who’s been traveling this area and will be at Tegann when we are.” She rapidly described what she’d written down. “Look at all these marriages. Look at the dowries that went with them. It’s enough to build a small army. And here”—she pointed to the other column—“is what we have with us now.”
He looked at her rather than the paper she tried to show him. “And what is your conclusion?”
She took a deep breath. “I think the duke is planning to take the brides and force their families to support him. By binding all the wealth of Crescera to his allies, he has an army and the resources to arm and feed it. He can take everything west of the Catrix Mountains with what he already has and keep it with what our women provide. Those men surrounding us, the one hundred and thirty I heard you talking about, are meant to make sure we get to Tegann and trap us there. Every noble with enough power to stop the duke will be at the Concordium, and it will be all over before they realize we haven’t shown up.”