Fortune and Fate

by Sharon Shinn

  He kissed the top of her head. “I believe we can,” he said. “When they work together, there is very little that Riders cannot do.”

  “And you will have mystics beside you,” she said.

  He kissed her again. “Ah, then, we will be impossible to defeat.”

  Chapter 27

  WEN WAS THE FIRST ONE AWAKE IN THE BARRACKS THE morning after the ball, despite the fact that she was almost certainly the last one to have fallen asleep. Well, there was some possibility that she had not slept at all. She got up and moved silently through the quiet building, pausing in the kitchen to make a cup of tea. Then she sat on a bench outside in the weak dawn sunlight and tried to think.

  What had Jasper Paladar meant last night by his warm smile, his pretty waltz, his proxy kiss? He was flirting with her—yes, of course—Wen had had her share of enjoyable encounters over the years, and she knew when a man was sending a certain kind of signal. But to what end? He didn’t seem like the sort to take a tumble with his housemaid, and a soldier was scarcely of a higher social caliber than a servant. Was he only trying to keep her off balance and on edge? Did he seriously hope to seduce her? And then—what? How awkward it would be to accept battle reports from the woman you had just taken to your bed. How strange to discuss with her troop strength and weapons requisitions in the morning if you had been making love the night before.

  Of course, he knew that she did not plan to stay much longer. He might think a casual liaison would carry no penalties. She would be gone before he had time to tire of her.

  Perhaps he had not even thought it through so methodically. He might simply have been intoxicated by the music, the company, a few glasses of wine. He might have been enflamed, perhaps, by the close embraces with Demaray Coverroe and the other fine ladies—women to whom he could hardly make bold advances without offering some kind of commitment in return. Perhaps he liked the idea of a woman in his bed but not a wife in his house. Someone like Wen would expect nothing from him except a little easy pleasure—the very thing he would hope to get from her. He could satisfy the cravings stirred up by those titled ladies without losing any of his independence.

  She sipped her tea. That was not a particularly heartening notion, though she did think it made a great deal of sense. He had been a widower for five years. It would hardly be surprising if, from time to time, he looked for physical companionship. He might not be ready to marry again, but that didn’t mean he didn’t need gratification.

  She drained the cup and set it on the bench, resting much of her weight on her hands as she leaned back. Well, she could use a little gratification, too. Since she had left Ghosenhall, she had only taken one man to bed, and they had only spent three nights together. She missed the casual delight of a lover’s touch, the varied and sensual pleasures of intimacy. If Jasper Paladar wanted to invite her to his bed before she left Fortune, she would not refuse.

  Though that might not have been what he intended at all. He had called himself her friend—he might have thought his friend might appreciate flirtatious attentions designed to make her feel feminine and desirable. For all she knew, he had brushed his lips against Demaray’s cheek or touched his fingertips to some other woman’s mouth, smiling all the while in that private fashion. Perhaps such gestures meant nothing, at least to the nobility, and Wen would be ridiculous to expect Jasper to follow through with any kind of declaration, no matter how informal.

  Very well. She would expect nothing, ask for nothing, require nothing. But if he offered her anything, she would take it. She would be leaving Fortunalt soon enough, and if any liaison with the serramarra’s guardian proved to be uncomfortable, she would merely move up her departure date.

  But she thought it would be a rare treat to lay her slim body next to Jasper Paladar’s tall one. And she had not had many things to savor in the last two years of her life. She thought she deserved this much, if it was going to come her way.

  THERE was little chance to pursue a romance during the next two days. While most guests had gone straight home after the ball, a few had stayed in Forten City. These were the lords and ladies who lived some distance from the city and were enjoying a chance to shop and dine and visit with friends. Serephette rather begrudgingly invited them back to Fortune for dinner the next two nights, and the men lingered in the library with Jasper long after the meals were over. Wen went by both nights to make a brief report, but she delivered it in the hallway while Jasper stood in the doorway, his attention half on the room behind him.

  He did not make her feel like she was being a nuisance, however. Both nights, he seemed pleased to see her and interested in what she had to say. And there was that familiar smile at the back of his eyes. She found herself smiling back, as if at an unstated joke.

  “Paladar! Come settle an argument!” one of the men called that second night as he lingered with her in the hall.

  “In a minute,” he replied, instantly returning his attention to Wen. “Did Serephette or Karryn tell you?” he asked. “We have been invited to a luncheon at the Flyten house tomorrow. It is something like a three-hour drive in each direction, so we shall have to leave in the morning. Karryn is not particularly eager to go, since it means she will miss some breakfast or another at the Coverroe place, but Douglas Flyten is a good man, so Serephette and I have insisted she accept the offer.”

  Wen nodded. “Karryn mentioned it this morning. I have already picked out the guards who will be your escort.”

  “And will you be among them?”

  She nodded again. “I like to go along anytime Karryn is off the premises.”

  He was watching her closely. “We have not yet had time to discuss an extension of your contract,” he said. “You promised to stay through the ball, but, of course, the ball is over. May I have your word that you will stay at least another week, or until we have time for negotiations?”

  She met his gaze steadily. “I already promised that I would give you notice before I planned to leave. I won’t renege on that. I will certainly accompany you to the Flytens’ house.”

  “Good,” he said. “I am sure we will be perfectly safe in the hands of Captain Willawendiss.”

  That made her smile again. Someone from the library called his name with impatience, so he shrugged and disappeared behind the door.

  Wen sighed and returned to the barracks to prepare herself for the morning’s travel.

  THE weather the next day was utterly sublime. A langorous sun slowly climbed through a cloudless sky; a light wind kept the spring heat from becoming oppressive. It hadn’t rained for at least three days, so all the roads were relatively dry. A finer day for travel it would have been difficult to order.

  This was the longest journey Karryn had made since under Wen’s care, and Wen hadn’t forgotten the tales of bandits on the highways. She had taken extra precautions and enlisted more than the usual complement of guards. While they moved through Forten City, she kept the soldiers in a tight formation around the coach, but once they made it to open road, she spread them out the way Tayse would have deployed them. One guard galloped in advance of the coach to scout out the territory ahead. Two fell behind to make sure no trouble crept up from the rear. Two were perched on the back of the coach, clinging to specially made straps, while four rode horses immediately before and behind the conveyance. Excessive, perhaps, Wen thought—unless they actually saw combat. Then perhaps not enough.

  She herself rode close to the coach, a few paces to the rear, though now and then she nudged her gelding near enough to exchange remarks with Moss and Eggles, who had taken the positions on the vehicle. Moss loved this mode of travel, Wen had learned to her surprise; she was smiling happily as the coach jounced along.

  “Comfortable?” Wen called out to her over the noise of hooves and wheels.

  “Extremely!” Moss called back. “What a beautiful day! It wouldn’t be nearly as enjoyable in the rain.”

  “I think I’ll trade with Davey for the trip back,” Eggles shouted. D
avey’s wrist had finally healed, though Wen wasn’t sure how much good it would do him to be clinging to a strap for three hours while the carriage plunged over ruts and road debris.

  “As long as someone has every post, I don’t care who rides where,” Wen replied.

  They stopped once at a roadside tavern for everyone to refresh themselves. Wen had to admit she rather enjoyed making a stir as she and Moss and Eggles and Davey stalked through the main room and the kitchens, checking for danger, before allowing the nobility to enter. The display certainly earned Karryn a little awe; the serramarra got excellent service, and even the guards were given sizable portions of ale and bread. Jasper seemed to appreciate the exhibition. Serephette didn’t appear to notice.

  They were on their way again soon enough, heading southeast along a route Wen had not traveled before. This part of Fortunalt roughened to a series of low hills through which the road made its twisted passage. Everything showed a green and gorgeous face—grass, shrubs, trees, all varieties of vegetation, which grew thicker the farther south they traveled.

  Wen wasn’t keen on the crowding of woods against the side of the road, especially when the trees covered the hillsides so densely. Plenty of places here for brigands to gather in shadow, awaiting a less well-defended party to pass by. She was starting to wish she’d brought twelve or fifteen guards instead of nine.

  But they completed the journey with no trouble at all and pulled up at the Flyten house just when they were expected. Malton, who had ridden in the lead, was there ahead of them. “I checked the grounds and all is well,” Malton reported to Wen as she swung out of the saddle. He was a big man, looked slow, but he was utterly steady and incredibly powerful.

  “Good,” she said. “Moss, you and I will accompany Karryn inside. Amie and Davey, you wait right outside the front door. Two of you at the back door, the rest of you roam the grounds. I understand we’ll be here three or four hours, so spell each other now and then. Two patrolling at any one time should be enough.”

  Karryn didn’t even seem to notice when Wen and Moss trailed her inside—that was how used she was by now to the notion of constant attendance. The Flyten footmen seemed taken aback at their presence, but no one made an effort to put them out of the house. Wen had decided she and Moss didn’t actually have to be in the room with Karryn, but they would position themselves just outside the dining hall and be ready to fling themselves into motion at a moment’s notice.

  It seemed obvious almost immediately that there was nothing to fear from Lord Douglas Flyten and his wife, Tannis, both of whom appeared to be about eighty and employed servants who might have been with them since birth. Wen counted two footmen and a serving girl who looked to be younger than thirty; everyone else was, frankly, decrepit. Well, good. Easier to fend them off if they suddenly took it into their heads to attack the serramarra.

  Wen fairly quickly lost interest in the parts of the conversation she could overhear. By her rather sullen tone of voice, Karryn wasn’t much interested, either, but after a sharp comment from her mother, the serramarra began to make a little more effort. Even so, without Jasper and Lady Tannis doing their best, the whole table might have sat in dismal silence for the duration of the meal. Serephette had no talent for small talk, and Lord Douglas’s conversation mostly consisted of, “What’s that? Didn’t hear you.” Wen assumed he was deaf, or nearly so.

  Still, it was clear that the vassal and his wife were delighted at the serramarra’s presence, and from the number of courses carried in from the kitchen, the cook must have been slaving over hot ovens since well before dawn. Taking her cue from her uncle, Karryn began praising the more lavish dishes, and she seemed to genuinely like the confection that ended the meal. She happily accepted Lady Tannis’s offer to have someone write down the recipe for the cooks at Fortune.

  “I know you have a long drive ahead of you, but we were hoping you’d have time to walk the grounds with us before you go,” Lady Tannis said. “I’ve imported some shrubs from Arberharst and they’ve taken to the climate spectacularly. They’ve just started to bloom down by the eastern wall—I think you’d enjoy seeing them.”

  “Well,” Karryn said doubtfully, but Jasper spoke right over her.

  “We’d be happy to see the gardens,” he said.

  That meant the whole lot of them had to parade across the lawn—the Flytens, the Fortunalts, Jasper Paladar, Wen, Moss, Eggles, Davey, and the two gardeners who apparently were needed to explain what special measures they’d taken to make sure the foreign shrubbery flourished. Wen had to admit that the bushes—low to the ground, dense with dark green leaves, and bursting with tiny purple flowers—were impressive. She didn’t blame Karryn for bending down to take in an exaggerated breath of their heavy scent.

  “We have a wonderful hedge around Fortune, but its flowers have already faded,” Karryn said. “I wonder how long these will last? They’re gorgeous.”

  “I’ve seen that hedge,” Douglas said, after first asking his wife to repeat what Karryn had said. “Took a couple of cuttings from it, but never could get them to root.”

  “They say no one’s ever been able to get a piece of that hedge to grow anywhere else in the country,” Tannis added in her soft, quavering voice. “It’s magnificent, but it can’t be transplanted.”

  Karryn sniffed at the purple flowers again. “I suppose these bushes can’t be, either.”

  “Oh, no, they take hold almost anywhere, as long as you treat them properly,” Tannis said.

  Then, of course, nothing would do but that the Flytens had to offer Karryn a cutting, and one of the gardeners had to run back to some shed to find shears and potting soil and a scrap of burlap to wrap it in, while the other solemnly repeated for Karryn all the details of its care. Wen was certain Karryn was sorry she’d said anything complimentary, but the girl made a creditable attempt to look grateful and didn’t even shrink away when the muddy ball was laid in her hand.

  “And now I really do think it’s time for us to go,” Jasper said to their hosts. “Thank you so much for having us to visit! It has been a most enjoyable day.”

  Karryn brightened immeasurably at the news they were leaving. “Yes—quite lovely,” she said. “You’ve been so gracious.”

  Of course, it took another quarter hour before the coach was called for, the team was hitched, the guards were mounted, and everyone else had climbed inside the carriage. But they were finally on their way again, back through the undulating green countryside and the indolent sunshine. Wen estimated they had four hours or so of sunlight left; they should be back home before dark. Always better to travel by daylight unless you were on a mission of stealth.

  As before, Wen stayed mostly to the rear of the carriage, back far enough to get a broad perspective of the upcoming view. Now and then she spurred the gelding close enough to exchange a few words with Moss and Eggles, who had kept his post on the coach after all. Malton had chosen to stick with the carriage for the return trip, and with him was a raw recruit named Cal, a young man with natural instincts but no battle experience. In the lead position Wen had sent a young man named Garth. He was blond and cheerful, older than Davey but just about as energetic. He was an excellent advance scout because he was too impatient to keep to the sedate pace of the carriage.

  They’d been traveling about ninety minutes when Karryn put her head out the window. “I’m bored,” she called to Wen. “My mother and Jasper are both sleeping. Can I ride while one of you sits in the carriage instead?”

  Wen grinned and kept her horse at a trot alongside her. “I’d rather you stayed inside. Besides, you’re not dressed for riding.”

  Karryn sighed. “I know. But I’d almost rather ruin a dress than sit here and be so dull.”

  “You could try sleeping, too.”

  “If I sleep, I’ll muss my hair. My head rubs up against the back of the seat.”

  Wen laughed. “Are you expecting any company tonight who will care what your hair looks like?”

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