Abuse of Power (Rise of the Mages 1) (2 page)

Alaina grabbed a plate from a rapidly dwindling pile of dirty dishes.

She washed and dried it as slowly as she could without getting scolded, but all too soon, she finished the last tankard. Maybe no one would notice her just standing around for a while.

Yeah. Right.

The cook looked over and smiled. “You’re done? Good. Why don’t you sweep the common room?”

Alaina tried not to grimace. It wasn’t the woman’s fault. Really. She seemed like a genuinely sweet woman.

“Yes, ma’am,” Alaina said. “But there are still customers. Would it be better to wait? I could help you prepare tomorrow’s breakfast instead.”

“Nah, I’m almost done, and it’s slow tonight. Get started, and we can all get off early.”

Perfect. “Yes, ma’am.”

What else could Alaina say? That she risked her life every time she stepped into public? That she couldn't even sweep—one of the duties she’d been hired to do—because she was afraid of who might see her? That the thought of walking into the common room made her so nervous she felt like she was going to throw up?

Regardless of how nice the cook seemed, she'd put Alaina out on her ear for balking at such a simple request. Even if she could come up with an excuse that worked, it would get all the barmaids talking, and attention from wagging tongues was a worse threat than the possibility someone who could recognize her might be at the inn.

Alaina trudged from the kitchen. Her heart thudded harder than Elrich hitting an anvil with his hammer.

She stumbled. Best not to linger on thoughts of him.

Only a few of the thirty tables held customers, and all those wore the plain, dirty garb of farm laborers. No catchers or soldiers at least. She relaxed a bit as she grabbed a broom. As long as no one else showed up, she should be safe.

Still, she kept her head down as she went about her chore, starting with the area surrounding the fireplace. Was there anything worse than ashes? Even in the best of circumstances, they were almost impossible to fully clean, and the damp night air made the ashes clump and stick to everything.

A quarter hour of hard scrubbing on her hands and knees left the area spotless. No one would be throwing her out into the cold without a meal for a job like that!

“You know ...”

Alaina nearly jumped out of her skin, spinning to find the red-headed serving wench. What was her name? Dona?

“If you cleaned yourself a bit, looked up more, and smiled occasionally, maybe you could get promoted to serving tables. The tips are good. Better chance of finding a man, too.”

Any man Alaina met would be after exactly one of two things—to bed her or to collect the reward for capturing her. Or probably, both.

“I'm fine. Thanks, though.”

“You’re too good to serve, huh?” Dona said. “Think girls like me are trash, don’t ya?”

In the two days Alaina had been at the inn, she'd worked hard at the most menial tasks in the place and certainly hadn’t put on airs of any kind. Why did other women always see her as a threat?

Alaina wanted to scream that she couldn’t help that men found her looks appealing. She even dressed down as much as she could. Any attempt to refute Dona’s accusations, though, would just draw more unwanted attention. “No. I-I just … I’m fine.”

“You little ...” Dona looked her up and down before suddenly smiling. “You're so thin! You must be freezing in here. Let me help you.”

Before Alaina could respond, Dona stuck a poker in the fire and stirred up the coals. Ashes flew all over the floor.

“How clumsy of me! Guess you'll have to clean it all over again. Oops.”

Alaina glared at her. It’d serve the wench right if a log flew from the stack of firewood and hit her on the head.

No! Alaina shouldn’t wish such a thing. Shouldn’t even think of the possibility. Too dangerous. She grabbed her rag and went back to scrubbing. When she finally finished, Dona approached again.

Alaina placed her hands on her hips. “I'm perfectly comfortable. Thank you.”

Dona started to respond, but the main door opened. Both the women's heads jerked toward the sound as a huge soldier—seven feet tall if he was an inch—with a filthy face and wearing tones of muted blue and gold ducked under the lintel. Did the mud-coated man ever bathe?

A gigantic sword swung in a scabbard, and two knives handles stuck up from his belt. His sharp eyes scanned the room. And he looked angry.

Nasty. Dangerous. A killer. Alaina recoiled. What if he recognized her? Should she run or avert her gaze and hope for the best? She stared at him, hoping for some indication of what she should do.

The giant turned to another soldier walking in behind him. She couldn’t make out the words, but they were terse and unfriendly. The two moved to an empty table without much of a ruckus.

“Oh ho,” Dona said. “Setting our sights high, are we?”

What? Oh.

“Believe me,” Alaina said, “the last thing I'm interested in is a pair of—”

“You’re blasted right it’s no! Those are nobles, and they're mine. Look likely to tip a silver instead of the coppers the losers around here give.” Dona tugged her bodice down to expose even more of her generous bosom and pranced to the newcomers’ table.

Great. Just what Alaina needed—not just regular soldiers but rads-infested nobles! With any luck, they’d take no notice of her. She pointed her face firmly at the floor and swept.

Auggie ducked under the lintel into the inn’s common room. “How did I let you talk me into this?”

Benj passed him, walking toward a table in the far corner. “Quit your bellyaching. It’s chilly tonight.”

“No.” Auggie followed. “We’re riding at first light. You need sleep.”

Benj’s eyes scanned the girls as he walked. “C’mon now, the memory of a nice bedwarmer is just what I need to keep me happy on the road.”

Auggie sighed. “That’s not how a gentleman behaves, you know.”

“Gentleman?” Benj stopped and stroked his chin. “I’m more of a rogue.” He looked back, his eyes sparkling. “A handsome rogue. Besides you’re one to talk.”

“What?”

Benj found a table well away from the door and sat, straddling the seat and leaning the chair back on its hind legs. “You didn’t behave like you’d taken a tender’s vows when you were with Trina. Then you ditched her at the first opportunity.”

“I did not!” Auggie plopped into a chair opposite him. “She left me.”

“She told you to marry her or else. You chose the else.”

Auggie narrowed his eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Benj chuckled. “I’d have done the same. Just don’t claim to be different than me.”

Auggie’s attention lit on a tiny slip of a girl sweeping the floor in the far corner. “My conscience is clear.” And the fact that he couldn’t meet his friend’s eye while saying that meant nothing at all.

“What about her?” Benj said.

Huh?

Benj pointed at a slight woman with short brown hair. “To be my bedwarmer?”

Auggie shook his head and returned to staring at the girl in the corner. “I want no part of this.” Smeared dirt on her cheeks marred her looks, but something about her captivated him.

“Wow, look at her,” Benj said.

An incredibly busty red-haired young lady bounced toward them. Her breasts nearly escaped their confinement as she curtsied.

Auggie rolled his eyes. If he had a bit for every barmaid that came on to them, his father’s financial struggles would disappear. After they placed their order for ale, she promised quick service and flittered away.

“So?” Benj said.

Auggie sighed and inclined his head toward the girl sweeping the floor.

“Her?” Benj frowned. “She probably hasn’t had a bath in a week, and her chest … Are you sure that’s not a boy?”

“She’s intriguing.”

“She’s wearing a sack.”

“Look past her clothes.”

A smile split Benj’s face. “I’d love to. Do you think I can get her to take them off?”

Auggie rolled his eyes. “Be serious for once. Look at her face. Nice lines. Those eyes glow green.” He stared at her. “And the dirt. Notice it’s only the smudges on her face? None under her fingernails. Her dress—which is three sizes too large, by the way—is immaculate. She’s obviously trying to hide her looks.” Which was weird behavior for a barmaid. Most of them made their living from tips, and typically, the prettier the girl, the bigger the tips.

Not that it was any of his business. Though, maybe Benj had the right of it. Auggie sighed. A diversion might just take his mind off Trina, and he did find the girl interesting.

She looked to be several years younger than him but lacked the frivolity he’d expect from one her age. If anything, she appeared too grim as she kept her face cast toward the floor, intent upon her work as if her life depended on getting every speck of dust up. When she did glance briefly around the room, she met no one’s eyes, and she didn’t venture within ten feet of any patron.

The red-headed barmaid approached her. “When you’re done here, empty the chamber pot in the middle room. Poor chap is sick. Has it coming out both ends.” She laughed and skipped away.

The demure girl glared after the retreating figure. For the tiniest fraction of an instant, anger flashed across her face.

“Oh ho!” Auggie said. “She’s got some spirit to her.”

“That little thing?” Benj spat. “She makes a mouse seem strong.”

“You’re just not seeing her right.”

Benj laughed. “Good for you. It’s about time you got back on the horse.”

Auggie’s nostrils flared. “I’m not interested. Just trying to help you out is all.”

Benj chuckled. “Really?” He stood.

“What are you going to do?”

Benj grinned. “You’ll see.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Benj kept right on marching toward her.

“Don’t make me pull rank.”

He gave no indication he heard.

“Lieutenant Flynn, return to this table. That’s an order!”

Every eye in the room swiveled to the two officers. All except for the girl’s anyway. She kept rapt attention on her broom as Benj approached from behind. He grabbed her about the waist.

She pulled away and spun in a single motion. Before Auggie knew what was happening, she slapped Benj. The sound echoed through the room, and a silence fell.

Auggie exploded from his chair and rushed toward them.

“You were right.” Benj rubbed his cheek. “She’s got spirit.”

Her eyes went wide, and she shrank from the two officers. “Milords, I’m so sorry. I thought … I mean, I didn’t …” Fear haunted her expression as if she expected to be struck down where she stood.

Auggie pulled Benj behind him and kept his distance. “You’re not the one who owes an apology, my lady.”

Her eyes bulged at the honorific, and Auggie stumbled over what to say next. He didn’t typically address chamber maids as nobility. Oh well. He should just go with it. Maybe she’d be flattered.

Aware he towered over her, he slouched. “Truly my lady, we mean you no harm.”

Her body remained tense. “Thank you, milord. By your leave, I’ll return to sweeping?”

The right thing to do was retreat back to his table and be done with it. Even better, leave her a generous tip to make up for Benj’s absolutely inexcusable behavior. But he couldn’t seem to squeeze out the words for either of those courses of action.

Instead, he extended his elbow in offer of escort. “I feel terrible at the fright my lout of a lieutenant gave you. May I buy you a drink?”

May he buy her a drink? Really?

For the first time, a hint of a smile touched her lips. “If it pleases milord, dust waits for my broom.”

Wow. Her face transformed with the slightest glimmer of mirth. If he thought her pretty before …

“Of course, my lady.” With a tilt of his head, he backed away a step. “The owner of this fine establishment shall not learn from my lips that you refused to earn him custom.”

Auggie had never felt like more of an ass. For good reason; he had never acted like more of an ass. He turned slowly and stepped toward his table, waiting for a reply.

She didn’t disappoint. “Milord, mayhap I spoke in haste. A bit of wine sounds nice.”

As he and Benj seated themselves, the girl dragged herself to their table. Her eyes darted about seeking escape, her expression caught halfway between terror and rage. She sat ramrod straight.

What was he doing? A gentleman of any worthwhile breeding did not force his company on a lady, even one serving as a chamber maid.

She kept her eyes focused on wood stained by years of sloppy patrons.

The buxom redhead bounced to them. “Your ales, milords.”

“And a glass of your finest wine for the lady,” Auggie said.

The barmaid glared at the waif seated with them. “Excuse me, milord?”

“You heard me. A glass of wine for our friend, and it better be your best. And it better not be watered down.”

The redhead recoiled. “Yes, milord. Sorry, milord. No offense intended, milord.”

Auggie dismissed her with a wave and turned his attention back to the girl. “Your coworker doesn’t seem to like you.”

The girl shrugged, her gaze not rising.

“Are you from this village?” Auggie said.

“No.”

“Been here long?”

“No.”

“What brought you here?”

She shrugged again. Benj stifled a chuckle by trying to disguise it as a cough.

Was she scared? How did he draw her from her shell? The direct approach? “There’s no need to fear us.”

Her eyes darted up and fixed on the sword hanging from his belt for an instant before returning to the table.

Okay. She had a point. Two military officers. He was a foot and a half taller than her and outweighed her by two hundred pounds.

He plastered what he hoped was a warm smile across his face. “If I killed every girl who slapped Benj, we’d have to close half the taverns in the duchy for lack of barmaids.”

Her face rose from looking at the table. “You do kill some of them?”

“No! That’s not—”

Benj choked back laughter and ended up in a coughing fit. The edges of the girl’s lips threatened to curl into a smile.

Auggie nodded. “So you’re teasing me now.”

Behind her, the door burst open. A short, slight man wearing a tunic and hose entered. Three black-liveried guardsmen followed. They cast harsh glares about the room.

Two farmers sat near the entrance. Despite a half dozen empty tables in the area, one of the newcomers forced the locals to move.

Auggie snapped his concentration back to the girl. “What’s your name?”

“Alaina.”

Not that he was considering courting the girl, but her name dismissed any possibility of him marrying her. He wouldn’t subject his worst enemy to the too-cutesy double initials he hated so much. Alaina Asher. Ugh.

Auggie grimaced.

She frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. “You don’t like it? Well, I’m sorry. It’s the one my papa gave me.”

Oops. If he were to have any chance of having a bit of fun with her, he needed to deflect the offense he’d given. “No, my lady. Your name is the very definition of loveliness. Something behind you distracted me.” He bowed his head toward her. “Please forgive my disgraceful manners.”

By her expression, she obviously didn’t believe him.

“Truly. A catcher and his men walked in.”

Her eyes went wide, and she glanced back at the four men seating themselves. “How do you know that’s what he is?”

“That hideous outfit he’s wearing hasn’t been the court fashion in Bermau for two seasons.” Auggie shuddered at the thought of that particularly heinous year. At least he’d only been forced to adopt the style for a single ball, and thank the Holy One, Benj hadn’t been around to see it. “And his soldiers wear black. If he were a merchant, he wouldn’t bother with livery, and a noble acting on his own behalf would have them dressed in his house colors.”

Trembling, she stared at the table in front of her seat.

“Not to worry,” Auggie said. “We won’t let any harm come to you.”

She met his eyes for the first time. “That’s some boast, milord. No one can do anything about them.” Bitterness tainted her voice.

“That’s not true.”

“He’s being too modest,” Benj said. “We’ve killed three of them.”

Her head swiveled between the two officers. “How can that be?”

Auggie tried to shush him.

“It’s easier when you’re the niskmo,” Benj said.

“You?” she said to Benj. “You’re the duke’s son?”

Auggie knew what was to come next. Her attitude toward him would change. The only women who pursued him harder than barmaids were noblewomen. Why did Benj have to bring that up?

Auggie took in her fine features and lithe form. Then again, maybe her being after him wouldn’t be the worst fate, but it would make it harder to avoid entanglements. Oh well. He sighed and raised a finger. “Guilty. August Asher at your service.”

Anger flashed across her face, and she shrank further into her chair as if trying to sink through it. Crap. She probably thought his station made it even more likely they’d kill her for slapping Benj.

Auggie kept his tone calm and reasonable. “The lieutenant makes it sound like we kill people for sport.”

Benj opened his mouth but, for a wonder, clamped it shut at a glare.

“We had those catchers lawfully executed,” Auggie said. “It was no different than hunting bandits and bringing them to justice.”

“I’ve seen men claiming to be catchers, not so finely outfitted as those, but …” Her voice grew heated, and she checked herself. “I’ve seen them force a girl into bed by saying she’s a mage. No one did a thing.”

“Not while I’m around.” He froze. “Wait. They didn’t—”

“Don’t worry. My virtue is intact.” She bit off each word.

Was everything he did and said destined to offend her? He had never had this much trouble with a woman. They normally swooned at a mere hint of the niskmo’s interest.

She, on the other hand, obviously wanted nothing at all to do with him. Which meant he should gracefully accede to her wishes and excuse himself from her company. Etiquette drilled into him from birth demanded he do so.