“Back to your seat, Ketter,” a voice behind them said. It was Arnold, and he spoke with the authority of someone who expected to be listened to.
Someone grew a pair overnight, Danil thought. He nodded his thanks to Arnold and maneuvered through the watching people to follow him.
Arnold saw Ketter back to his group, then came over to speak to Danil. “Sorry about that,” he said. “They’re not normally this… well.”
“Yes, they are,” Danil corrected him. “Come on, Arnold, I’m a mind-reader. I can tell when you’re lying.”
Arnold’s face flushed bright red to the roots of his hair. “You have my apologies. I’ll say this then: they’re a rough bunch, but I do believe they can do good things, given a chance. I know it’s hard to believe,” he admitted. “But I know it’s true.”
Danil scanned Arnold’s mind and realized it was true. Arnold truly believed that his men were good people deep down.
“Fair enough,” Danil said. “He wasn’t the instigator, anyway. But we can’t let a fight break out. Not here, not with these people.”
“I understand.” Arnold ran one hand through his thinning hair. “I’ve already told them if I hear of anyone making trouble, they’ll be out on their ear.”
“Do you think it will help if I talk to them?” Danil asked.
Before Arnold could answer, Gerard came up to them, walking with a swagger and a mean twist to his mouth.
Gerard was one of the biggest men in Tahn, and one of the biggest drinkers, too. Danil could smell the booze on his breath and knew that even if he could dull the man’s emotions a little, the effect would be unpredictable at best.
Julianne? Danil sent, feeling her nearby. Hall, now. Bring Marcus, if he’s with you.
On our way, Julianne sent back. Danil caught the fleeting image of the cottage Lord George had taken for his own and knew she would be there in minutes.
“Can I help you, Gerard?” he asked coolly, hoping he would get the message and back down before making a fool of himself.
“Yeah, you can.” Gerard threw a glance over his shoulder, and Danil saw a group of his friends watching. Mack, Jarv, and Carey were all in Gerard’s guard troop.
So, this is a group project, Danil realized. Damned if I’m going to let them off the hook if this goes bad.
“I wanna—we wanna know if the jerk who attacked Sharne in her house is here.” Gerard puffed out his chest, glaring at the group of soldiers. The effect was reduced when he swayed a little and had to shuffle a foot to keep his balance.
“And does Sharne want to know?” Danil asked, his voice hard.
Gerard scowled. “Not your business, mucker.”
Nearby, someone gasped. The word mucker was reserved only for the New Dawn, an insult designed to cause offense.
Danil didn’t have it in him to be offended. He could sense Gerard's anger and his fear that these men were here under false pretenses. He could touch his outrage at the idea that one of them had snuck into a fellow soldier’s home—a female soldier, at that—and almost killed her.
And, Danil could see without even trying that by morning, Gerard would remember none of this. He would be left with a headache and a sick stomach and, if he was lucky, a fuzzy recollection of all the booze he had drunk.
I’m here. Julianne’s thought echoed in Danil’s mind, and he felt a spike of fear. Despite his confidence that it was the piss talking, not the man, he knew a wrong move could spark a fight.
Stay outside, for now. If this explodes, you don’t want the shit to splatter on you. Danil knew that if this went badly, Julianne’s authority would have to remain untainted to sort it all out in the morning.
I’m sending Marcus in, she replied. He won’t knock any heads until you tell him to.
Danil knew Marcus would hold to that, and his anxiety eased a little. Gerard, however, was getting impatient.
“You covering for our little criminal, mystic?” he growled.
At least he hadn’t called him a mucker again.
“He’s not here,” Arnold said, hurrying up to stand beside Danil. “I know who you’re talking about, and we lost him. Dead, or defected. Not sure which.”
“How do we know that’s the truth?” Gerard asked, leaning forwards. “And if you know what he did, does that mean you were with him?”
They had never substantiated the rumor of a second intruder and Danil had hoped they never would. He knew it was Arnold and clenched his jaw, hoping the new commander would have the brains to stay quiet.
“Yes, I was,” Arnold said.
Danil groaned internally. Of all the stupid things to say.
“My sergeant directed me to sneak into the town and steal food for our men. They were starving. As a soldier, I was trained to do as I was told, no matter how distasteful… so, I did it. We snuck around the wall, to the east.” Arnold looked around, noticing the entire room had their attention on him.
“And then?” Gerard pressed.
“And then, we split up. I went for a farmhouse, figuring I could take back some eggs and maybe raid the cellar if it was outdoors. No, I’m not proud of stealing from hardworking folks,” he added. “You have my deepest apology for that.”
“But you didn’t actually take anything, did you?” Danil asked, loud enough for those watching to hear.
Arnold shook his head. “There was a clatter, and yelling, so I ran. I made it back to camp before Sergeant Larson. When he came in, he was limping. He had been stabbed in the leg.”
Danil felt Gerard’s rage build, fueled by Arnold’s story and the alcohol flooding his veins. Remembering something Artemis had said about the effect of magic on physiology, Danil cast a small spell.
It wasn’t much, just enough to make Gerard’s vision tilt a little to the side.
“Just like a coward,” Gerard panted. He leaned to one side, trying to compensate for his crooked eyes. “Blame… blame the…” he swallowed.
Danil tilted his sight back the other way and Gerard swayed. Then, the angry pink in his cheeks turned green.
Danil shoved Arnold, and he stumbled to the side. Just in time, too. A flood of frothy vomit shot from Gerard’s mouth, right where Arnold had stood barely a moment before.
Everyone moved back, even those well out of range, as Gerard hurled again, the sound of choking gags eliciting some sympathetically green faces amongst the onlookers.
Even Danil had to press a hand to his mouth. He scurried back, using his magic to block out the smell.
“Oh, Bastard’s oath, Gerard!” Mack yelled from behind. “Go on. Drag him outside.”
Mack and Jarv grabbed an arm each, lifting the still-puking man off his feet and carrying him out, leaving a trail of slippery, foaming slop on the floor as they went.
“Sorry,” Gerard gasped as they hauled him away. “That came outta nowhere.”
Danil looked at the shocked faces around him and sighed. “Guess I’ll be stuck cleaning up the mess,” he muttered.
Arnold walked over to him, carefully skirting the puddle on the floor. “Show me where a mop is, friend, and I’ll take care of it. My men will have this place spotless before you know it.”
“We will?” one of them asked. “Come on, Sarge. You know I’m a sympathetic spewer.”
He did look a little green around the gills. Danil waited to see what Arnold’s response would be.
“Look, it’s not pleasant, but you lot were asking for that. Throwing your weight around and snapping at people like they owe you a hot lunch.” Arnold paused, letting them shuffle uncomfortably for a moment. “We did wrong to these people, and they took us in anyway. We’re damned well gonna stay here until we pay that debt.”
“Yes, sir!” The cry was a little weak, but Arnold straightened his shoulders, looking proud of them.
“I think,” Danil said quietly, “You just became the leader they need.”
Arnold blushed, then started barking orders for his men to find buckets, water, mops, and towels.
&
nbsp; Chapter Twenty-Seven
Looks like you have it under control, Julianne sent to Danil. The words were suffused with pride.
He skimmed her mind and found her waiting outside. He squeezed through the people to go to her, smiling as the villagers around him shouted offers to help the soldiers clean up Gerard’s mess.
Danil pushed open the hall doors, sucking in a deep breath of fresh air. He almost choked on it as the acrid smell of vomit and the sound of retching reached him.
“Over this way!” Julianne called.
Danil hurried over, and they escaped around the corner.
“I never knew a man could hold that much booze,” Danil commented once they were safely away. “It started coming and it just didn’t stop!”
“Yes,” Julianne said dryly. “Can’t say I’m sad to have missed that particular demonstration.”
“Sorry to drag you away from whatever you were doing,” Danil said. “I really thought things were going to get ugly in there.”
“You don’t call that ugly?” she asked, jabbed her thumb over her shoulder towards what was now a quiet groan.
“I call it better than the alternative,” Danil said. “And anyway, I didn’t know the spell would work.”
“Wait,” Julianne's said, grabbing his arm. “You’re saying you made him sick?”
Danil shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, he was right on the edge, so it’s not like I caused it out of nowhere.”
Julianne raised her eyes and gestured for him to explain.
“He was drunk—really drunk. And when he started going toe to toe with the soldiers we brought in last night, it looked like it was going to erupt. I tried leaching his emotions, but the alcohol was messing with the magic. So… I made the world a little crooked.”
“You changed his vision and it made him puke?” Julianne asked skeptically.
“You’ve never been vomiting drunk, have you?” Danil asked. “When you’re that sloshed, it doesn’t take much to tip you over the edge. Convincing his eyes that everything was slanted a little to the left, while his body could feel that it wasn’t…”
“Wow.” Julianne grinned. “Guess you can teach an old dog new tricks.”
Danil started to nod, then cried out, “Hey! I’m not old!”
She shoved him gently. “You’re getting wiser. That means you’re getting old.”
“Well, in that case, you’re ancient.” Danil shoved her back, and she stumbled, laughing.
“Steady on. We still have work to do.” Julianne sobered, and when Danil reached into her mind, he found it cluttered with everything she was taking care of.
“What can I do?” he asked, unable to untangle the mess of thoughts. He knew it was just her way of thinking—Julianne would be able to make perfect sense of that jumble.
“Lord George is ready to meet the soldiers. We haven’t told them about him yet, or about Ade. We wanted to make sure it was safe.” Julianne’s gaze focused on something in the distance. “I’ll need you to work on them, make sure they’re ready to fight at our sides.”
“How long until this all blows up?” Danil asked, referring to the imminent attack from Rogan and the army of Muir.
Julianne shook her head. “No telling. Annie says something is in the air, though.”
“So that’s why she came down,” Danil said.
“More or less.” Julianne stifled a yawn behind her hand. “I’ll get George. Can you let me know when this is cleaned up?”
“I will. Try to get an early night, though, ok?” he said as she moved away. “Don’t want you sleeping through the battle with Rogan.”
“Oh, don’t you worry,” she said with a fierce grin. “I’m looking forward to that far too much to miss it.”
Danil watched her go, unwilling to return to the crowded hall until he heard buckets of water being sloshed out the door. Once he was sure the smell had mostly gone, he returned.
He was gratified to see Gerard sitting on a stool, back against the wall as Mack fanned his face.
Mack looked up and gave the mystic a respectful, but slightly apologetic nod. Danil returned the gesture and went over to speak to Arnold, who was supervising the last of the cleanup.
“Still smells like shit,” Danil commented.
“That it does,” Arnold said. “But damned if it hasn’t seemed to sort things out better than a dust up in a brothel.”
“I… wouldn’t know what you mean,” Danil said, faltering.
“Oh? You’ve never taken a squad out for a night of relaxation?” At Danil’s confused look, Arnold explained. “When two lads get their eye set on the one girl, whoever she doesn’t choose gets his dick in a knot.”
Trying not to visualize that, Danil nodded.
“So,” Arnold explained, “You let them fight it out. Winner gets to buy the loser his next round with the girls and walks away with the respect of the men. Establishes the pecking order and makes sure there are no hard feelings the next day.”
“Ah… yeah, I still don’t get it,” Danil admitted.
Arnold shrugged, grinning. “You’d have to be there.”
Francis walked past, his arms loaded with bunches of lavender. He set about stripping the small, purple flowers into a collection of china plates and metal baking dishes.
A girl stood over him, telling Francis when each container had enough in it, and where to put them around the hall.
“You ready, Frank?” she asked. Casually, she raised her hands and a small flame flickered, then jumped from one to the other.
Francis shook his head as she juggled the fire. “Trini, has anyone told you you’re a showoff?”
“Ha. I’m not the one who lit a whole pond full of water alight.” She threw the tiny fire at him and he flinched, but it disappeared before touching him. “I’ll have you dancing in the flames in no time, you’ll see. First, we gotta get rid of this smell.”
Trini walked around the room, small columns of smoke erupting from the dishes and pots as she passed them. The scent of smoky lavender rose to freshen the air.
“Oh, that’s better,” Danil said, relieved.
He and Arnold watched as Francis squatted by one of the pots, his hand hovering over it. He closed his eyes and screwed up his face.
“You’re heating some leaves, not taking a shit,” Trini taunted from across the room.
Francis’s eyes snapped open. He opened his mouth to respond, then closed it, shuffling around the pot to turn his back on her. He blew out a hard breath, lifted his hand again, and stared.
A moment later, his eyes turned black and a sliver of smoke rose from the flowers.
Danil raised one hand in a silent fist pump. He waited until the smoke dissipated and Francis’s eyes cleared before letting out a holler.
“You did it! You’re a Bitch-damned physical mage!” Danil went over to clap him on the shoulder.
Francis blushed. “Yeah. I guess so.” A grin spread over his face as it sank in. “Yeah. Yeah! I’m a magician!”
“We’ll celebrate tomorrow,” Trini said, darting over to give Francis a hug. “I’ll show you what you’ll be able to do after a bit of practice.”
He awkwardly gave her a quick squeeze before stepping out of her embrace. “I don’t think I’ll ever be as good as you,” he said.
“Nonsense,” Danil said. “You’ll start to progress faster now that you have a real teacher.”
“Bastian did ok,” Francis said, grimacing. “We only burnt down half a building between us.”
At the smattering of laughter, Francis relaxed.
“Good work, lad. Good work,” a bellowing voice called from the doorway. Lord George stepped inside, beaming. “Young Trini said she’d been working with you—hope you didn’t pick up any of her bad habits.”
“Me? Bad habits?” she said in mock outrage. “I’m a pillar of decency.”
“Ha. You don’t fool me, girl,” George said with a fatherly smile. “But you did well with this young man. Who knows, maybe you’ll tr
ain him up enough to serve with my personal guard.”
At the mention of his guard, George’s eyes flicked to Arnold and the rest of his men. They stood, dumbstruck, staring at the Muir lord with pale faces.
“You’re… here?” Arnold gasped.
“I am. And, speaking of my guard…” Lord George scanned their faces. “They seem to be under the sway of Rogan, the cunning bastard. I’m in need of a trained force, one led by a good man who is willing to pledge allegiance to me.”
Arnold dropped to one knee. “My Lord. I pledged to your son; we all did. We failed him. We would all give our lives to rectify that.”
George walked over and looked down at Arnold. “He failed you. Perhaps, I failed you, too.”
“You were up against a force you couldn’t defend against,” Danil pointed out. “I wouldn’t exactly call that a failure.”
“Still, my son would have led his men to disaster eventually.” Lord George sighed when Arnold dropped his eyes guiltily. “Don’t be ashamed for thinking the same thing. I know he was an idiot, but I was just too damn weak to do what I should have.”
“Lord George the Third was an honorable fighter,” Arnold said after a moment’s pause.
“Diplomacy is never unwelcome,” Lord George said with a smile. “But there’s really nothing else you could say about him that isn’t an insult.”
“My lord… if there is any chance you’d take us on…” Arnold faltered, falling silent.
“Was I too subtle? I expect it. You’ll serve as my personal guard as a temporary measure. Once Rogan is ousted and we sort out who is left, you will integrate with my existing guard.” George lifted his head a little. “Will you and your men swear to me?”
Arnold sucked down a shaky breath. He didn’t speak for a moment, but the moisture glittering in his eyes gave those watching confidence in his answer.
As one, the soldiers standing behind Arnold knelt, heads bowed.
“We will, my lord. Life and soul.”
“Life and soul,” echoed the others.
“I accept your pledges.” Lord George patted Arnold on the shoulder and motioned for him to rise. “Your first order is to go and get some sleep. When Rogan attacks—and we believe that will be soon—you will fight alongside the soldiers of Tahn.”
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