“We’re running out of building materials,” Francis said. “I can try, but it likely won’t be long enough to keep them out forever. If they’re entering at the wall’s end, though, they’re cutting through bog. That will slow them down and wear them out.”
He glanced at the nearby table and motioned for a bit of paper.
Bette handed it to him with a stump of charcoal.
“Here’s the town,” Francis said as he sketched, “and there’s the wall. All this—” he shaded a section “—is marshland. It’s knee deep in places and a few spots where you’ll lose a whole cow.”
He pointed to the army’s location, then drew a line with his finger. “They’d save time going this way, even if it’s longer. And if they try to go around the bog, they’ll hit the mountains.”
“So, if we post some sentries in this wee bit of open land here, and leave a few men up front, we’ll head them off?” Garrett asked.
Francis nodded. “If they're dumb enough to cut through the marsh again, you’ll be meeting them wet and tired. If they come to the front, the wall will slow them.”
“Aye.” Bette sighed. “Double shifts it is, then. Garrett, do ye think we should cancel training until the others get back?”
Looking surprised that she had asked him, he wrinkled his face, thinking. “Aye. We don’t want ta run them inta the ground, and there’s twice as much work ta do with that lot from Muir takin’ up our hall.”
Francis looked up at that. “Forgive me if I’m speaking out of place, but do you think we could get them to help? I mean, I know they’ve been through a lot, but if some of their people help with the watch and—”
“Ach, you’re bloody right,” Bette said. “Seher said they wanted ta help, but I said no like the dumb shit that I am. I’ll get on that today. Meanwhile, make sure everyone has their eyes open and their weapons close. If young Sharne hadn’t been armed to the teeth in her sleep, things might have gone a lot worse.”
“Aye,” Garrett agreed.
They finished the conversation, and Francis left. Garrett tried to scurry out with him, but Bette hauled him back inside by the collar. “And where do ye think yer goin’?”
“Back to my station!” he protested.
“Ye’ve been avoidin’ me fer days. What’s going on? Did ye piss in me boots one night and forget to tell me?”
Garrett refused to meet her eye. “What, ye think I’m hidin’ somethin’? Well, I’m not. I’m not hidin’ anything. Not a thing.”
“Bull. Shit.” Bette leaned against the door. “Yer not takin’ one step out of this room until ye tell me what’s got yer beard in a twist.”
Reflexively, Garrett grabbed his beard and stroked it, checking for knots. It was a beard, carefully grown, trimmed, and oiled for years. He was quite proud of it.
He chewed his whiskers. He tapped his foot. Finally, seeing she really did intend to keep him there for as long as it took, he let out a frustrated groan.
“Oh, fer the love of the Queen Bitch, woman! Can’t ye let a man come to a thing in his own time?”
“And what kind of a thing would a man be comin’ to, eh?” Bette asked, still holding the door closed.
Garrett opened his eyes wide in disbelief. “What kind of bloody thing do ye think? I’ve been mullin’ on how to ask ye to be me significant other, ye impossible woman!”
“Impossible?” Bette screeched. “Me? I wasn’t the one runnin’ halfway across town just to duck me head and hide from a lass!”
“No, yer the one who forced a man into a corner and ruined his plans, is who ye are!” Garrett roared.
“What bloody plans?” Bette yelled. “At the rate you ‘plan’, we’d be old, grey bones by the time ye pulled yer foot out of yer arse and said anything!”
Garrett stepped forwards, his nose inches from hers, hands balled into tight fists. He growled in a low voice, “I have work ta do, so if ye don’t mind?”
She stepped forwards and yanked the door open. “Don’t let the door hit yer arse on the way out,” she snapped.
Garrett stomped out without a backwards glance. He was at the gate when Bette yelled out to him.
“Garrett?” she hollered, fury still simmering in her voice. “Yes!”
“Yes what?” he barked back.
“Yes, I’ll be yer girlfriend, ye vertically challenged asshole.” She grinned and waved at Tessa, who had stopped in the middle of the street to watch the exchange.
“Thank ye, ye bossy wee control freak!” Garrett hollered back. As he walked down the road, a giant grin spread over his face. “She’ll do just fine,” he murmured. “Just fine indeed.”
Chapter Sixteen
Julianne stopped pacing to impatiently watch the sun slowly dip towards the distant mountains.
“Jules, you look like you’re about to burst,” Marcus commented as he saddled his horse.
“Just itching to get this over with,” she explained. “I mean, we’re not going into battle—at least, I hope we’re not—but still, I’ll be happier when Adeline is in Tahn, safe and sound with her father.”
“I hear you.” Marcus finished loading his saddlebags and came to sit by her. “We leave at sundown?”
Julianne nodded, then looked up as Mathias came over.
“I sent Percival out.” Hearing his name, the fat pigeon beside him chirped and preened. “No one in sight for miles.” Mathias perched on a low tree branch, kicking his legs.
“That makes sense,” she said. “Adeline’s messages said the town has been closed to visitors since we left.”
“You think we can move out early, then?” Marcus asked.
“If there’s no one to see us, it seems like a waste of time to hide. Where’s Jakob?” Julianne reached out with her mind reflexively. It was the first time she had used her magic that day and it was like a glorious morning stretch. “Ah. Here he comes.”
She had brushed Jakob’s mind and felt his wet hair and clean beard. He had washed in a nearby stream, then conjured up a magical warmth to dry himself, but was still a little damp.
She had to hold onto her patience as they covered up the campsite and finished readying the horses. By the time they left, the sun was just grazing the horizon.
It was only a short ride from there to Muir, and they arrived at the gates under a brilliant moon.
“Here,” Mathias said. “Dismount. The horses will wait for us here.” He shook his head as Marcus began to tie his. “They’ll stay, and we can leave faster if we don’t have to untie them.”
Marcus dropped the reins as Mathias cupped his hands around his mouth and a bird-like trill sang out. A few moments later, a fat pigeon flapped down to his shoulder.
“No ties today, Percival. Can you hold it in your mouth?”
The bird cooed and tipped its head to one side. Mathias held out a scrap of paper, and the bird took it, giving it a gentle chew. Mathias grimaced.
“Maybe I should have stuck it on your leg. Don’t gum it up, pig, and only to the girl, yes?” He let the bird nuzzle his face for a moment before it few off over the wall.
“Right,” Julianne said. “Let’s do this.”
Her eyes turned white as she slipped into the minds of the gate guards.
Both minds were fractured and patched with holes, but functional. They knew they’d been ordered to keep the town closed off, but believed the direction had come from Lord George.
Open the gate. Forget you saw us. Julianne pushed the compulsion into their minds, unworried that it might later be discovered. They would be long gone by then, if it came to that.
The four of them fled through town on light feet, Jakob dulled the noise they made while Julianne cloaked them from sight.
The moon had barely moved when they made it to the manor. “Adeline’s rooms are there,” Jakob said, craning his neck to point at the fourth floor.
“If anyone would know, it’s Jakob,” Mathias said with a sly wink.
Surprised, Marcus looked at Jakob. “Really
? You and Adeline?”
“What of it?” the big man asked, glowering.
“I think it’s sweet,” Julianne said. “Like in the old stories. Princess in her tower, wooed by a rough and rugged man with no family to speak of.”
“There’s more spice than sweet in that relationship,” Mathias chuckled, then whoofed out a breath as something invisible hit him in the gut. “Do that again, and a whole flock of birds will shit on your head tomorrow,” he gasped.
Jakob gave an innocent shrug, but couldn't contain his own laughter. “My lady doesn’t like to be kept waiting. What’s our plan?”
Four floors up, Adeline eyed the pigeon on her windowsill with terror.
“Yes, of course, father,” she said.
“Yes what? I asked how you would manage the city while we are away, Adeline. Are you even listening?” Using magic to disguise himself as Lord George, Rogan glared at her.
Adeline started. Dammit, girl, pull yourself together or you’ll give yourself away. “Sorry, father. I was just thinking.” She wracked her brain for an excuse. “About… George. I haven’t seen George in days. Do you think he’s ok?”
Rogan sat back. “I’m sure he’s fine. He sent a messenger to say the hunting was extraordinary, and he would keep his men out a little longer. Now, about our journey—”
“Yes, your journey. But, why would you and Rogan wish to travel to Tahn? It’s such a small town, and there’s nothing there but a few farmers.” The pigeon jumped inside, a bit of paper dangling from its mouth.
Oh no. Go, shoo, she thought, knowing it couldn’t hear. Still, she wondered if it was being deliberately obnoxious when it began to coo.
Rogan spun. “Get out, you vile—what’s this?” He snatched at the bird and missed, but it dropped the note. Rogan ignored the paper, watching Adeline’s stricken face as it fluttered to the floor. “Adeline, my love? Perhaps you have something to tell me?”
“What? No, Father. I shall run the city just as you instruct, until you return from your journey.” Adeline kept her eyes glued to his face, refusing to look at the stark white scrap on the red carpet.
It was too late. Without taking his eyes off her, Rogan crouched down and picked up the note. Flicking his eyes to it, he read aloud. “Fly, little one. Lover-boy and his rescue party have arrived.”
His face darkened. Then, as if her eyes were playing tricks, her father’s form wavered and flickered. “Lover?” He took three steps forwards and grabbed her arms roughly. “LOVER?” he screamed, speckles of saliva hitting her face.
The illusion vanished and it was Rogan pinning her down, screaming at her. “You bitch! You evil, lying bitch! How dare you play with my affection!”
A force shoved at her mind and Adeline struggled to hold it back. Her shielding skills were good, but not as strong as her father or Madam Seher. “You think I could care about a monster?” She spat at Rogan’s face, trying to distract his concentration.
The force increased. Adeline’s fingers could just brush the small dagger hidden in her belt.
“I hate you. Do you know that?” Rogan screamed. “I hate you, because you’re a liar. You’ve made me angry, Adeline, and that means people will die!”
Got it. Unable to move her arms above the elbow, Adeline could only jerk her hand up to plant the small knife in Rogan’s forearm. He let her go and she scrambled back, hitting her head on her desk.
Rogan shrieked. “Guards! Guards, attack!” He held his injured arm close even as he attempted to grab her again with the other. Adeline fell back into the passage behind her desk and kicked the secret door closed. Her shield collapsed.
“Please, be ready,” she whispered. She jumped to her feet and ran up the stairs.
Below, Marcus held Julianne’s arm as she mumbled urgently. “She got the door open. She’s running, upstairs; she can hear someone behind her. There’s a tower, she’s going—Jakob, catch her! Catch her NOW!”
Marcus jerked his head up in time to see something white and billowing tumble from one of the tower windows. Someone screamed and Marcus realized it was a girl. “Shit!” He yelled and jumped forward, arms out.
The billowing form spun, dress floating in the fingers of wind that caught the fabric. Adeline looked down, seeing the terrified man below. She fell, closing her eyes. Then, she slowed.
It was as though she was weightless, floating down from a height that should have been deadly. Jakob’s spell lowered her gently onto the hard, cobbled road, tipping her upright to land steadily on her feet three feet away from Marcus.
“Thanks, but I’m good.” She winked at Marcus before throwing herself at Jakob and planting her lips on his.
“Ade!” As he pulled back, Jakob’s eyes faded from black to their normal brown. “Thank the Bitch herself.”
“Don’t thank that dumbass bird,” she said. “Mathias, I keep telling you, pigeons are morons.”
“Sorry, my lady.” He grinned in relief.
“Hate to break up the party guys, but we’ve gotta go.” Marcus could hear the rumble of boots on wood floors, building to a crescendo as a nearby door burst open. Soldiers tumbled out, spotting the rescue team almost immediately.
“Go!” he yelled, feet already moving.
Marcus spared a glance back to make sure his companions were following. Jakob pulled Adeline along, Julianne keeping pace. Mathias brought up the rear.
A zing whispered past Marcus’s ear. “Bowmen!” he called.
Jakob dropped Adeline’s hand and gestured with his fingers. The next volley of arrows froze in midair before clattering to the ground. He reached out again, but groped empty air.
“Already overtaken you, slowpoke,” Adeline said.
To his surprise, she was right.
“Stop showing me up,” he grunted, then skidded to a stop.
He eyeballed the men hurtling after them, quickly calculating their speed and weight. Then, he raised both hands and made a dipping motion. A wall of flame erupted, barricading the road.
He watched a moment to make sure the spell would hold. The first row of men stumbled, and those behind smashed into them in their haste. The sudden stop sent four rows sprawling on the ground.
“Now, let’s spread the love,” he whispered. He could hear his companions getting farther away, but didn’t move. A twist of his fingers and a click, then the hot, glowing wall flared as fresh flames spread beneath those that had fallen first.
Cotton underclothes and cured leather blossomed into flames. Men screamed and scrambled away, some to avoid the flames and others to try and outrun the ones licking at their clothes.
Jakob grinned, then took off running again. He had almost lost his friends—did, in fact, when they rounded a corner. Taking a breath and crossing his fingers for a good landing, Jakob took a flying leap.
Another hand movement pushed the air behind him, propelling him down the street. He landed, wobbled, then rolled, coming to a stop on his feet. He took a quick moment to balance himself, then dashed down the street his friends had gone down.
“There you are,” Adeline scolded.
“I told you he’s safe,” Julianne said. “Come on. The gate guards are about to be accosted.”
They raced for the gates, but got there too late. Almost a dozen men were lined up, crossbows aimed straight at them.
“Duck!” Marcus yelped. No one had needed the warning as the bolts whizzed by without hitting anyone.
By the time the guards had reloaded, each of them had found a doorway or alley to slip into.
The men at the gate didn’t approach, but Jakob knew the men he had attacked were only minutes away.
“Jakob, can you get us over?” Adeline said, pointing at the nine-foot wall.
He shook his head. “Sorry. I’m spent.”
“We need a distraction, is all,” Mathias said.
A loud crack followed by a clatter sounded at the gates. Jakob risked poking his head out. The great oak doors were being pummeled from the other side. Though
some of the guards still watched the roads, they looked nervous, and the others now had their weapons pointed the other way.
A bat screeched and dove into the group of men. One man screamed nervously, though the animal hadn’t struck anyone.
Then, four bats were flapping at their heads. A minute later the bats swarmed, their high-pitched squeaks drowning out all other noise.
The guards broke formation and ran, some only stumbling a few steps before falling to the ground whimpering and crying.
“Now!” Julianne yelled. Two men, touched by the flapping, scratching mammals, yanked the gate open with a dazed look. “Thanks, boys. Hope you don’t catch it in the morning.”
They slammed the gates shut once everyone was through. Jakob leaned on the wall to catch his breath.
“No time,” Marcus said, pulling him forwards. “Get to the horses.”
Jakob nodded at Adeline’s worried look. “I’m fine,” he said. “But I’ll sleep for a week when this is done.”
They quickly found their horses and mounted. Jakob pulled Adeline up behind him, and she wrapped her arms around his waist. “Don’t let go,” he said.
“Why, scared you’ll fall off if I do?” she taunted.
“Maybe.” He kicked his horse, and they shot through the woods and onto the road.
Chapter Seventeen
Bette stood side by side with Garrett, facing down a band of angry soldiers.
“I bloody well told ye, we’re not gonna launch a bloody war!” Bette snapped.
“Why not?” Lewis called from the crowd. “You said yourself, they’re barely scraping by out there. We only need a few dozen men, and we can take them out forever!”
“Until ye’ve slit a man’s throat while he’s got his pants around his ankles, ye’ve not got the experience to make a decision like this, lad.” Garrett spoke calmly, despite his own frustration at the situation.
He knew—they all knew—that what remained of George the Third’s army was just a short ride away. They had food and tents, but were struggling to survive.
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