Cold Magics (30 page)

“Pleasant thought,” said Thomas as they stepped back out into the cold.

“The duke wouldn’t let his people starve,” said Eileen. Her eyes went to the refugees standing in the streets. “Would he?”

“I don’t think he has a choice,” said Thomas, keeping his voice low. “He can’t have enough supplies for everyone for the whole winter.”

“Will the supplies Henry is having brought in make a difference?”

“Some,” said Thomas. “Don’t know how much.” He picked a major street. “Come on.”

They spent the day working their way through the streets of the city’s merchant district. They found a pair of binderies, several stores that sold paper and notebooks, and a tavern that served one of the worst meals either of them had ever eaten. They did not, however, find a single book seller.

A cold wind had risen as the afternoon went on. It cut through Thomas’s cloak and coat. Beside him, Eileen was shivering, and her lips were tinged with blue. Thomas called the day’s search to a halt and headed back to the castle. Eileen, despite her obvious cold, hesitated.

“Don’t you want to go back?” asked Thomas.

“No,” said Eileen. She looked flustered then, and it took her a moment before she said, “there’s nothing to do there.”

Thomas grinned, feeling his cold skin stretching. “Come by my room and we’ll think of something.”

Eileen managed a ghost of a smile. “I don’t think so. George would have my head.”

“It’s never stopped us before.”

Eileen rolled her eyes. “We were never in another part of the country without any other family around, stuck in a castle with a bunch of noisy, lecherous lords before, either.”

Thomas stopped. “It’s been a long time since we’ve had any time alone together.”

“I know,” said Eileen. “I just don’t… I just don’t want to right now, all right?”

“All right,” said Thomas. “So what will you do?”

Eileen sighed. “I’ve got that book you bought me. I think I’ll see how far into it I get.”

They walked the rest of the way back to the castle in silence. Thomas escorted Eileen to her room and with no one watching, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. Eileen returned it hesitantly, and ended it sooner than he would have liked. “I’m still cold,” she said Eileen. “I’m going to curl up in bed and read. I’ll see you at dinner, all right?”

Thomas, feeling very much rejected and not at all sure why, could only say, “All right,” and watch her close the door on him. He stood there for a time, wondering if he should knock. He had no idea what he would say if she opened the door again, other than to ask if she was all right, and given how she’d been answering that question, he doubted it would do any good.

In the end, he went back to his tower. This time, sitting with the fire-rod in his lap, Thomas decided to try just meditating on the object. He stilled his breathing, cradled he object in his arms and tried to will his senses into the stone rod, the way he’d felt his senses become part of the clouds when he’d called in the snow. By the time the dinner bell rang, Thomas was very frustrated and no further ahead. He tossed the cold lump of stone onto his bed, locked the tower, and headed down the stairs.

Three of the young lords were waiting at the base of the steps. Thomas bowed slightly to them and tried to go past. The largest, predictably, stepped in his way. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Yes?” said Thomas, schooling his voice to politeness.

“That little redhead. Is she betrothed to you?”

“We’re courting.”

“But not betrothed.”

“No,” said Thomas. “We are not betrothed.”

“Told you so,” said the big lord. “Girl like that wouldn’t be betrothed to the likes of him. Not when she has her chance at something better.”

Thomas didn’t say anything. The lord grinned at him. “Is it true what they say about redheads?”

Hitting him will not improve matters
, Thomas told himself.
And if I do, his friends will probably kill me.

“Now, that question displays a stunning lack of manners,” said Lord Richard from behind them. Henry’s eldest brother was standing in the hallway, frowning, his arms folded.

“We’re just trying to learn more about the girl,” said the first lord, “since Goshawk is all sweet on her.”

“Well, you won’t find out that way,” said Richard. “And I doubt Baron Goshawk is sweet on her.”

“Of course not,” said the second lord. He bowed to Thomas. “How silly of us to think so.” The three lords gave polite bows to Richard, mocking bows to Thomas, and headed down the hallway away from the great hall. Thomas took a couple of deep breaths, then thanked Richard.

“Think nothing of it,” Richard said, looking after the retreating trio. “They’ve been stuck inside too long. They’re looking for trouble wherever they can find it.” His eyes returned to Thomas. “Do your best not to be the trouble they find, will you?”

“Yes, Lord Richard.”

“Now, if you will excuse me.” Lord Richard bowed slightly to Thomas and followed the young lords down the hallway.

Thomas entered the dining room to the smell of roast chicken and fresh-baked bread. George and Eileen were already seated, along with most of the castle residents save the duke and his sons, who were all conspicuous in their absence. The young lords were all seated together, and the three Thomas had just faced were in the process of seating themselves. One caught sight of Thomas and said something to his companions. Their laughter, intentionally loud, rippled through the hall. Thomas ignored it and sat with George and Eileen. The chicken was warm and the bread fresh and Thomas, watching the lords elbowing and laughing with each other, felt a surprising lack of appetite.

“Excuse me,” said a page at George’s elbow. “A message for you.”

The page held out an elaborately folded note on very white paper with “Eileen & George Gobhann” written on it. George looked at it, as if baffled as to who would send him such a thing. He stared at it so long the page began to fidget. At last Eileen said, “Will you take it?”

George looked at the message again, then held up his hands, showing the soot from the forge on them. Eileen took the note instead.

“You’re a mess,” said Eileen. “Why didn’t you wash?”

“I did,” said George. “Twice. Sword-making is dirty work. Who is that from?”

“Give me a moment.” Eileen unfolded the note and read it over. “Well,” she said. Then after a pause, “Well.”

“Well what?” asked George.

Eileen held out the note to him, and Thomas leaned over to peer at it.

To: George and Eileen Gobhann,

It is my pleasure to invite you both, along with the escorts of your choice, to attend a small gathering in my rooms this evening one hour after dinner with other young members of the court. It is not a formal occasion, merely a chance to have an enjoyable and relaxing evening.

I have invited some musicians, and there will be games. I also have hopes that Lords Henry, Richard, or John may put in an appearance.

I would be most pleased if you attended.

With best regards,

Baron Reginald Goshawk

“Reginald?” said Thomas. “No wonder he knows how to fight so well.”

“Don’t be cruel,” said Eileen. “Do we have to go?”

George finished reading a moment later. “Never been invited to a nobleman’s party before.” He looked at Thomas. “You?”

“Not one at court,” said Thomas. “Most of the ones at the Academy were nice enough. And he did say it wasn’t formal.” Thomas looked to Eileen. “Might be a chance to meet some other people aside from Amelia.”

George frowned. “Why would he invite us?”

“Why would he come to practice?” asked Thomas. “Henry said Baron Goshawk was trying to court his favour. Inviting you to his party is probably part of that.”

“Then why didn’t he invite you?” George asked.

That
, thought Thomas,
is a very good question
. “He did say with the escorts of your choice.”

“True,” said Eileen.

George shook his head. “I don’t know. Do we have to go?”

“Unless you can think of a good excuse not to,” said Thomas. He looked at Eileen, who was still pale and downcast. “It might be a nice time.”

“It might be,” Eileen said, though she didn’t look convinced.

“Plus there might be people there who aren’t the lords or Amelia Parks.”

“There might be girls there,” said George.

“There might be,” agreed Thomas, rolling his eyes.

“I wouldn’t mind talking to a girl,” said Eileen. “I’ve been in the company of boys for weeks.” She chewed her lower lip for a moment, then asked, “What do we wear?”

“The clothes Henry got for us in Hawksmouth should do,” said Thomas. “Do you still have your clothes from the first banquet, George?”

“Aye,” said George grumpily. “I do.”

“It’s just a party.”

“The parties I’ve been to were all at the pub or in a field drinking somewhere,” said George. “Never been to visit a baron in his rooms before.”

“Treat him like you would on the fencing floor,” said Thomas. “Polite, courteous, and when the time comes, beat the tar out of him.”

George’s eyes widened, then he snorted out a laugh. “I think I can manage that.”

“When should we go?” Eileen asked.

“Well,” said Thomas. “On a guess I’d say that, when the baron leaves, we should go get changed.”

“In that case,” said George, “I’m having another dish of supper.”

“In that case,” said Eileen, looking pointedly at his hands, “you should head for the baths. Thomas will get you if the baron leaves before you’re done.”

George looked down at his hands and then at the baron. Thomas was sure he saw shame flit through his friend’s features, but it vanished almost at once, replaced by a tightness in his jaw. “The Four forbid I look like a blacksmith,” he grumbled. But he rose and headed for the door.

“I’ll go with you,” said Eileen. “I should clean myself up, too.”

“What about me?” protested Thomas.

“You,” said Eileen, “get to keep an eye on him.” She pointed her chin in Baron Goshawk’s direction. “Come get us when he’s left.”

 Thomas watched them go and then, having nothing better to do, settled himself in to eat his dinner alone.

After a time, Baron Goshawk rose from his table, nodded to the men he’d been speaking with, and strode from the room. Thomas quickly finished his food and followed. He thought of following the baron back to his rooms, just so he’d know where they were. He thought better of it a moment later and called, “Baron!”

Goshawk turned on his heel, startled. “Ah, Thomas. Good evening.”

“Sorry to disturb, Baron,” said Thomas. “Eileen has asked me to be her escort to your party this evening—”

“Of course she has,” said the baron, smiling.

“And with that in mind,” said Thomas. “Where are your rooms?”

The baron gave Thomas the directions. “Do come by in an hour or so. That will give me time to get things set up.” Thomas bowed politely and started down to the baths. He found George overflowing one of the larger soaking tubs, and a set of clean clothes laid out on a rack on the far side of the room. The room was one of the few warm places in the castle, and Thomas let the warmth soak into his body for a moment before finding a standing tub and stripping himself down for a scrub.

Despite Eileen’s misgivings, which he couldn’t quite figure out, he looked forward to taking her to the party. It was the first chance they’d had to go anywhere as a couple, outside of Elmvale.
I’m sure it will all be fine
, thought Thomas, as he poured water over his head.
Once we get there, she’ll be fine.

He scrubbed himself clean, dried himself as best he could, and dressed. George had heaved himself out of the tub and was ready by the time Thomas was. Together they escorted Eileen back to her room from the women’s baths, then parted ways to dress for the evening.

A short while later, Thomas stopped outside Eileen’s door, knocked, called her name, and was promptly told to wait. He sighed, leaned back against the wall, and waited.

It was the better part of half an hour before Eileen opened the door. The green dress looked just as pretty as it had at the banquet, and she still hadn’t been able to do anything with her hair. Thomas smiled. “You,” he said, “are beautiful.”

“You,” she said back, “are a flatterer.”

“I,” corrected Thomas, “am the luckiest man in the world, to have you to take to a party.”

Eileen smiled a bit at that, though she still looked pale. “Knock on George’s door. Tell him to hurry up or we’ll be late.”

“Of course,” said Thomas, who was himself surprised that George had not been out in the hallway pacing and grumbling at how slow his sister was. Thomas knocked. When George called “Come!” he stepped into the room. George was before the mirror, scowling. Thomas blinked a few times. “That’s different.”

“I came in and found this laid out on the bed. Probably from Henry.” He turned sideways, squinting at himself. “Does it look right?”

“Well,” said Thomas, “I’m no judge but I’d have to say it does.” The jacket and pants were made of felt and dyed such a deep red they looked almost black until the light shone on them. The cut of the jacket made George’s huge frame no less small, but the line of it made him straighter. Like Thomas’s outfit, George’s had proper breeches, boots, and a knee length jacket over a white shirt. The overall effect made him look at once more imposing and more genteel, as if a large nobleman had been stuffed into a blacksmith’s skin.

Or possibly a small bear into a curtain
, thought Thomas. “Henry does know how to pick an outfit.”

“I look all right, then?”

“I don’t know,” said Thomas. “Eileen! Come look!”

Eileen appeared in the doorway a moment later, and her jaw dropped. “Where did you get that?”

“Henry, I think.”

“By the Four!” Eileen came all the way into the room and circled her brother. “You actually look magnificent,” she said at last. “I’m stunned.”

George’s cheeks reddened. “You think so?”