Rise of the Mages (Rise of the Mages 2) (28 page)

She withdrew the sword and walked away.

Insane. Definitely.

Brant stumbled as he entered the empty mess hall. He’d been so focused on Lady Ashley’s swaying butt he’d not noticed a gap in the boards.

She glanced back and smirked. Did she know what had happened? No. She’d have told him off. When she turned her head back around, she stuck her behind out and wiggled it.

That little minx.

If he didn’t have her soon, he was going to burst. The hints and teases and running her fingers all over his body were driving him crazy, especially since they’d not had enough time alone to go much further than kissing.

That would change tonight. No old farmer keeping her behind a locked door. No sharing a room with Lainey and Mari. No reason for him not to finally claim his reward for the rescue.

Lady Ashley stopped, and he almost ran into her.

“Do you think I was too harsh with your friend?” Her hand drifted to her belt knife.

Was she going to try to cut him, too? Brant choked back a laugh. She’d find him a much less willing pincushion than Xan.

Brant spun her, grabbing her around her stomach and pinning her hand. He kissed her neck. “It was about the sexiest thing I ever saw. Girls and swords—my two favorite things.”

Why did her dress have so many catches? It’d take him a half hour to get her out of it.

Her muscles relaxed. He hadn’t realized she’d been holding them so tight.

She rested her face against his. “You wouldn’t have a problem if I had to kill him?”

Brant managed not to roll his eyes. Did she expect him to believe she’d have gone through with it? “Whatever you need to do, babe.” The quartermaster hadn’t assigned them rooms yet. Could he latch the door? She’d never consent to lying on a table, though.

“I shall have the sergeant slit his throat tonight while he sleeps.”

She said it so deadpan. Didn’t even crack a smile. He almost believed she was serious. Would he ever get her sense of humor? With a body like hers, did it matter?

“Uh-huh.” He kissed her again, and goose bumps rose on her arms. Perfect. “Why exactly?”

She shivered. “He’s too dangerous. Too strong. He must be destroyed.”

Brant chuckled. “Xan? Strong? Are we talking about the same guy? Tall fellow, thin with curly hair?”

She broke from his grasp and faced him. “He’s so committed to his goals that he let me stab him. Barely even flinched.”

There were much better things to be doing with their time than talking, especially considering the topic.

Brant sighed. “Look, if you want to kill him for being a know-it-all, I’m with you. This one time, I’m sitting in The Angry Egg drinking an ale and working on an assignment my dad gave me. About troop positions for a battle. Something I studied for years and Xan never showed any interest in.” He shook his head. “He walks in, looks at it for about a minute, and proceeds to tell me who should go where. And the worst thing was he turned out to be right.”

He paused. She looked bored out of her mind.

“But for being too strong? What he showed you was how weak he is.”

“I don’t follow you,” she said.

“When Xan likes a girl—”

She crossed her arms over her chest in a huff. “I’m well aware of how he looks at me, but he’d have to be an idiot to think letting me run him through would get him under my skirt. He’s not an idiot.”

Brant was tired of talking about Xan. “That’s the thing—he is when it comes to girls. He’s not trying to get your clothes off. The idiot thinks he loves you and that it’s better for you to kill him than for him to hurt you.”

Her expression changed as she weighed his words. She understood, saw what a weakling Xan was to have such naïve beliefs. Finally.

Brant grinned. “Hard to blame him, of course, considering you are quite the comely young lady.”

She smiled and moved closer to him, tracing his chest with her finger. “Such flattery, good sir. Perhaps you should be rewarded.”

Her hand felt nice, though it would feel even better somewhat lower. He moved to kiss her.

Lady Ashley backed away. “Still, it’s quite the display of strength to stand there and let me stab him.”

Really? He clenched his sword hilt. “If you saw a soldier letting the enemy kick his butt on the battlefield, would you say, ‘Wow, that guy’s strong to take such a licking.’?”

“Maybe you have a point,” she said.

Brant grabbed her and drew her close. He’d show her strength. “Now, I’m sure the quartermaster will give you a private room for the night. How about some company?”

Lady Ashley ran her finger from his chest to his crotch. “Tempting. So tempting. But I’ve not slept well since my ordeal began, and I must be sharp when I get to court.”

She turned and walked away, her backside swaying.

He needed to dunk himself in a horse trough. A very cold horse trough.

* * *

Dylan patted the coins inside the hidden pouch in his tunic—fifteen triads, more than enough to set up a new life somewhere if he had to. At least something had gone right on the trip. He just wished he didn’t have to face Mari.

He paused before knocking on the door to the room she shared with Lainey. Why had he spent so much time with Mari the last couple of days? Leaving her behind would have been much easier if he hadn’t gotten to know her.

No help for it.

He rapped on the door. “May I enter?”

Mari’s voice told him to hold on a minute and much rustling occurred inside the room before she opened the door. He couldn’t help but wonder what they were doing. Was she getting dressed? What had she been wearing? Or not wearing?

Stop that! He wasn’t Brant.

“Sorry,” Mari said. “We were just getting ready for bed.”

They wore the same outfits they’d worn to dinner, and there was no sign of whatever she’d planned on changing into.

Stop that! It was none of his business.

“Uh, I needed to speak to Lainey for a few minutes.” Neither of the girls moved. “Alone?”

“I’m really tired,” Lainey said. “And kicking Mari out of her room isn’t right. Can’t you just say whatever it is with her present?”

Great. Just what he needed. “Sure.”

The girls sat together on one of the beds, and he took a seat across from them.

Dylan sighed. Mari wasn’t going to like what he had to say, but he couldn’t let her turn him away. “I’m leaving in the morning and taking Lainey with me.”

Tasia rushed toward the hospital. Her bouncing skirt revealed white socks embroidered with yellow birds and green vines, and her cheeks heated at the immodest display.

She kept running.

If only Master Hardin hadn’t banished her from working nights. Just a few more months until she was sixteen, though. He wouldn’t be able to keep her away after that.

Her breath came in sharp spurts by the time she reached the door, and she stopped to steady herself. A calm demeanor reassured the patients.

She moved past rows of beds. A mere handful of the sixty held occupants, and death stalked only Gabe. The blanket covering his small form rose and fell. Tasia unclenched her hands. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding them so tightly.

His forehead was hot and coated in salty sweat. He shivered.

A glance at the chart hanging at his side confirmed he’d been given all the proper medicines, yet he still burned. She had to bring down his fever.

Tasia knelt beside the cot and smothered one of his tiny hands with her clenched palms. She bowed her head and closed her eyes. “Please hear me, Holy One, and grant Your mercy. This child is surely the most innocent of Your creations, yet he suffers so. Please heal him.”

The stone floor ground her knees, already bruised and sore from hours spent doing the same thing yesterday and the day before. Even though the Holy One hadn’t seen fit to answer her previous prayers for Gabe, He would these. Life would flow from the Creator through her into the child.

Finally, she knew not how long later, something like a spigot opened inside her, and power coursed through her. Euphoria almost overwhelmed her concentration, but past successes had prepared her. She concentrated on easing his suffering.

Gabe’s breathing grew steadier, and his shivers stopped. Some of the heat left his hand. At the same time, strength filled Tasia’s limbs, and aches in her back and knees eased.

Tasia bowed her head lower, and tears streamed from her eyes. “Thank you. Oh, thank you, Holy One.”

A steady stream of power flowed through her for more than a quarter hour, and Gabe’s condition improved markedly. She was sure that, if she could keep it going a little longer, he’d be completely healed.

The hospital door clanged open, and a tall, lanky young man stepped inside. He pushed a mop of messy curls from his face and scanned the room until his eyes lit on her. Her concentration wavered. The Creator’s healing power ceased.

“Yes?” she said.

Dressed in a dark, newish outfit suitable for a skilled craftsman, he appeared, if not a noble, wealthy enough to afford the hospital’s services. He smirked at her and nodded before disappearing and pulling the door closed after him.

What in the world? One did not just burst into a hospital! The patients needed their rest.

Confident that Gabe would be fine, Tasia marched after the young man. He was going to receive the scolding of his life; that was for sure! She spotted him in the courtyard fidgeting as he faced a small group.

Of the three men among his companions, one sported the blue-and-gold livery of the duke, a sergeant by the icon on his shoulder. Another, short with red hair, wore a fine blue suit that was tailored and fashionable without being extravagant. The final man made her laugh. An unsightly array of purple, green, orange, and red—all too bright—assaulted her eyes, and a mass of fine white netting protruded from around his neck. Even accustomed as she was to the shifting styles of court, he appeared ridiculous.

Three expensively-dressed women made up the remainder of the circle. A beautiful, tall young lady with raven hair and dark eyes wore a fetching shade of chartreuse in a modest cut. Likewise, a younger girl with light brown hair and extraordinarily wide eyes wore a chaste lavender dress that accentuated her figure even less than Tasia’s own.

The third woman’s attire bordered on scandalous. She wore a bright yellow dress that dipped low on her bosom and showed a waist that could only be achieved with a corset. The drape of the garment didn’t surprise Tasia in the least.

“Ashley!” Tasia nearly knocked her off her feet with a huge hug. “Thank the Holy One you’re safe! I prayed for your return every day.”

“You’re the only one of my ladies-in-waiting of whom I’d believe that.” Ashley broke the embrace with a smile. She presented Tasia to the group and enthusiastically introduced the newcomers in turn, relating a heroic deed about each, or in Marisol’s case, how her father had taken them in. Finally, Ashley gestured toward the tall, lanky young man. “And that’s Xan.”

Pain flashed across his face—a deep hurt that stilled the tongue lashing Tasia had planned for him.

“If your reunion is over,” Xan said, “it’s past time we met your father.”

Ashley smiled sweetly. “You’re the one who rushed off without explanation. We’d be there now if not for you.”

Xan shrugged. “It was necessary.”

What did he need at the hospital? He hadn’t accomplished anything by simply opening the door and leaving. And why was Ashley being so hostile toward him?

Brant tugged at the absurd lump of tulle at his neck. Muscles bulged underneath the fine silk of his outfit, and his sword hung at his waist as if it belonged there. Why was he dressed like a complete fop then?

Ashley stroked Brant’s elbow, and Xan frowned, looking like nothing more than a wounded puppy. Well, that explained a lot.

“Can we just get on with this already?” Xan said.

Ashley batted her eyelashes at Brant. “What do you think?”

Xan didn’t give him a chance to respond. “Do what you will. I’m going.” He took off at a fast walk.

Ashley laughed. “Not that way, silly. There’s no access through that wall.”

By all that Tasia could see, Ashley had already rejected him. Did she have to kick him while he was down?

Tasia rushed after Xan and grabbed his elbow. “I’ll show you the way.”

His face flushed, and he stumbled after her.

“What’s wrong?” she said as soon as they were out of earshot of the others.

“N-nothing.”

She raised her eyebrows.

“It’s just that you’re holding my arm like we’re c-courting or something.”

Tasia laughed. “You want Ashley to pay more attention to you, right?”

“I …”

“Trust me,” she said.

Xan stared at her. “Are you related to her?”

“We’re cousins on her mother’s side. Why?”

“It’s just that you’re kind of … Uh, I mean, it’s just that you resemble her.”

Tasia giggled and rubbed her cheek against his arm. “Why, Xan, are you saying I’m pretty?”

His face flushed brighter than before.

No wonder Ashley liked to tease boys so much—it was fun. Tasia doubted, though, that any other boys were quite so easily flustered.

That she enjoyed the flirting didn’t, however, make it right.

“I apologize,” she said. “I’m making you uncomfortable. Whatever has come over me to act like this?”

He nodded, and they walked in silence for a while.

“Why would you help me?” he said.

She shrugged. “If you saw someone in need of aid, would you render assistance?”

He nodded.

“Then why are you surprised when someone offers the same for you?”

Xan exhaled sharply. “I’ve read a lot of stories about court. They all say that you have to be … careful. That everyone has an ulterior motive.”

“Maybe at the Queen’s court in Escon,” she said. “Not so much here. Duke Asher is quite adept at rooting out the sycophants.”

“Asher—I mean, the duke—is a big man, isn’t he?”

“A good head and a half taller than you and twice as wide. Why?”

“He sounds like a bully. Getting rid of those who don’t please him.”

Tasia frowned. “I wouldn’t say—”

“I’ve been considering for days how best to approach him. Beg on bended knee? Just tell him the facts and let things fall where they may? Show strength?” His face clouded. “So much is riding on a simple decision.”

Uncle Auggie was the most understanding and reasonable man Tasia knew. Definitely best just to be straight with him. “If you want my advice—”

Xan narrowed his eyes. “I’m tired of begging, and if there’s one thing life has taught me, it’s that a bully only understands strength.”

Tasia shook her head but held her tongue. Young men weren’t likely to change set minds, no matter how stupid the decision.