Cold Magics (42 page)

Henry sighed. “Of course. We’ll talk more tomorrow, Thomas. I doubt I’ll get back tonight.”

“Of course, Lord Henry,” said Thomas.

“You should come, too,” said Amelia. “Father Roberts would enjoy your presence, I’m sure. Not to mention Eileen, though Baron Goshawk has actually invited her and her brother to sit at his table, along with that horrible Lady Prellham.”

“Good of him,” said Thomas, the words escaping through gritted teeth. “Do give them all my regrets.”

“I will,” said Amelia. She held out her hand. “Well, shall we return, Lord Henry?”

Henry took her arm in his and led her out the door. Lawrence followed, pulling the door shut behind him. Thomas sat down on the ground beside the map, staring past it into the flames. He would not, he decided, be jealous because Eileen was eating a good meal in the company of the baron instead of sitting alone in her room.

Thomas stared at the map—at the swath of attacks and battles, and the one lone battle far to the south, where their small troop had been attacked on their way to the city. Somewhere in the back of his head, an idea was niggling at him. He left it alone, knowing it would come in time, and poured himself some more wine. He sat in front of the fire, eating and drinking and reading his new astronomy book.

An hour later, a page banged on the door. “Lord Henry says to come to the great hall at once. And leave the rapier behind.”

Thomas, mystified, did as he was told. He stepped in and found the room in joyous pandemonium. Men and women were cheering, laughing and drinking. Thomas spotted Henry on the podium, then noticed Father Roberts sitting between Henry and his father. Rather than risking the confrontation, Thomas searched to room until he found Baron Goshawk’s table. He moved through the crowd as quickly as he could.

“Thomas!” the baron greeted him. “Excellent news! Barons Cavish and Meekin are in sight of the walls. And they have six hundred men with them!”

Thomas blinked in surprise. “That was fast.”

“They sent a rider on ahead. Apparently they force-marched the men here from Weaversland. They say they’ll need a week before they’re ready to fight, but they’re here.” The baron looked at once jubilant and grim. “It might be enough for me to get troops to go home.”

“That would be wonderful,” said Lady Prellham. “If the duke allows it.”

“I pray he does,” said Goshawk. “I’ve been half out of my mind with worry.”

“He must allow it, mustn’t he?” said Eileen.

He hasn’t yet. Thomas kept the thought to himself. At the head table, the duke called for more wine. Cups were filled throughout the room, and one trust into Thomas’s hand. The duke raised his own high. “To victory!”

“To victory!” the entire room echoed.

“This is certainly cause for a celebration,” said the duke. “Tomorrow night the barons will be here. We will greet them with a banquet and music and our great thanks!”

More cheers followed the duke words, cups were raised again, and then again. Thomas drained his once, but only sipped at it after. The room buzzed with excited conversation and laughter. The duke rose again, announced that he was retiring for the night, and left the room, John and Richard on his heels. Henry stayed just long enough to visit Thomas.

“Excellent news!” said Henry. “I hadn’t expected them for another week at least. Maybe this will change father’s mind about going after them!”

“I hope so,” said Goshawk. “Do you think we could convince your father…?”

“We may,” said Henry. “But we’ve lost a lot of towns and a lot of the nobility. To lose another one would not be good.”

“How many?” asked Thomas. “How many nobles survived?”

“Nobles?” Henry thought about it. “Three of the knights whose villages were destroyed made it out. Of the barons, all three made it—Meekin, Cavish, Gallen. Why?”

“Not sure,” said Thomas. Given the numbers of refugees that made it to the city, and given that the nobles had guards and weapons and horses, Thomas had expected more of the nobility to have survived. Still, it might or might not mean anything… “I’m still looking for patterns.”

“Well, let me know if you find any,” said Henry. “If we could give my father an idea of the raiders’ next targets, we might be able to convince him to go out now, in force, instead of waiting until spring.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Meanwhile,” said Henry, raising his glass. “The reinforcements have arrived, and that calls for a drink.”

21

Thomas was fully expecting to practise alone again when he stumbled, somewhat hung-over, into the old great hall. He forced himself through the warm-up exercises, using them to clear his mind. He had just finished when the door opened and Eileen and Rose stepped through with Lady Prellham a few steps behind. Thomas’s jaw nearly dropped. He managed to say, “Hello, Miss Eileen.”

“Thomas.”

Eileen and Rose both wore wide-legged pants that would have passed for skirts at first glance, and loose blouses tied tight beneath leather bodices. Each wore a sword on her hip.

“Very nice outfits,” said Thomas. “Your doing, Lady Prellham?”

“Indeed,” said Lady Prellham. “If they are going to fence, they must dress properly.”

“You both look splendid. Where did Miss Rose find herself a rapier?”

“A loan from Lord Henry,” said Eileen. “His when he was a boy. He sent it four days ago, to encourage me to come back to practice.”

“It would be nice if he came back to practice,” said Thomas. “He hasn’t been here in a week. Neither has George.”

“He hasn’t?” Eileen looked surprised. “George is out of our apartments long before the sun is up. I thought he was coming here.”

“He’s probably with the knights, practising his horsemanship.”

Eileen shook her head. “Sir Patrick makes it a rule not to train until after breakfast.”

Interesting
, thought Thomas. “Well, no matter where he is, I’m glad you’re here.” He smiled at Rose. “Now, Miss Rose, have you ever used a rapier before?”

Rose had not, and Thomas set about teaching her the basics as he had done with Eileen only four months before. Eileen stood beside Rose, running through the basic drills with her. Lady Prellham found a stool to sit on, and she stared disapprovingly at the entire event.

“
There you are,” said Baron Goshawk from the door. He nodded politely at Thomas, then turned his attention to Eileen. “I had sent a note to your rooms asking if you wished the use of my carriage today. I had not expected you to be here.”

“I thought it might…” Eileen hesitated. “I thought it would be good.”

“Quite rightly,” said Goshawk. “It is good to see you back. May I join you?”

“Of course, Baron,” said Eileen, “though we are just teaching Rose the basics.”

“Well, now that there are four of us, why don’t we take turns on that and work on some more advanced drills? In fact, I’ll claim the fencing floor with you first.” He smiled far too pleasantly at Thomas. “If you have no objections?”

“None,” lied Thomas, who would much rather have handed Rose to the baron and stepped on the floor with Eileen, himself, if only to spend more time with her. Still, he kept working with Rose while the baron and Eileen fought across the floor. Eileen fenced methodically, but without much heart to her actions. The baron scored three hits, then the killing blow. When Eileen left the floor, Thomas excused himself from Rose and took her place. “Gentlemen’s rules today?”

“Yes,” said the baron. “The bruises on your face are fading nicely.”

“Yours too,” said Thomas. “How is your leg?”

“We’ll see. On guard.”

The baron pressed hard but Thomas defeated him, though not before receiving a pair of hits, himself.

“Well done.” The baron smiled. “Good to see you can fence as well as brawl.”

“Thank you,” said Thomas, smiling back and bowing slightly. “And now, if Eileen would join me?”

For the rest of the practice, the three took turns on the floor, while Thomas and the baron took turns instructing Rose in the use of the rapier. By the end of the workout, Eileen was sparring with a bit more vigour, but was still not her old self. It was an improvement, anyway, Thomas thought.

“So, how have you been?” Thomas asked, as they put away the fencing gear.

“Appallingly bored in the mornings,” said Eileen. “Lady Prellham has had me learning etiquette and memorizing the names of the nobility and teaching me how to walk, talk and act like a lady.” Eileen shuddered. “It’s horrible.”

“I can imagine,” said Thomas. “And the afternoons?”

“The baron has been very attentive,” said Eileen. “Claims it’s the least he can do after the fight at his party. He’s taken us everywhere, and taught me new card games. And he’s been very helpful with the lessons.”

“That’s very good of him,” said Thomas.

“Too good,” said Eileen, lowering her voice. “He set up a seven course banquet for lunch one day, just to help me learn the etiquette.”

“Seven courses?”

“Small courses,” said Eileen. “It wasn’t any bigger than a normal lunch, but he spread it out. Very well, too.” She shook her head. “I’m trying to figure out what he wants.”

“Maybe he just likes your company.”

“Not this much,” said Eileen. “He’s after something. Probably favour with Henry.”

Or you
, Thomas thought, but kept his mouth shut. The baron was doing him a favour after all.
If you can call constantly flirting with the girl I love a favour.

“What about you?” Eileen asked, her voice back to its normal volume. “What have you been doing?”

“Talking to refugees, mostly. Learning which villages were overrun,” said Thomas. “Henry and I made a map of them last night.”

“How many?” asked the baron.

“About thirty.”

“Thirty?” Shock filled the baron’s voice. “Where?”

“Mostly between here and the mountains,” said Thomas. “And that’s the ones we know about.”

“I’d like to see that map, if I could,” said the baron.

“I have it in my tower,” said Thomas. “I’ll happily show you after practice.”

“I can’t today,” said the baron. “I must meet with the duke’s council, and then there’s the banquet.”

***

“And speaking of the banquet, it is time for for Miss Eileen and Miss Rose to go,” said Lady Prellham, rising from her chair. “Miss Eileen’s new gown should be finished, and we will need to pick it up this morning.”

“My carriage is at your disposal,” said the baron, “along with my driver.” He bowed to the ladies, then nodded to Thomas. “I will see you at the banquet tonight.”

“Will you be coming to breakfast?” Eileen asked.

“Not immediately,” said Thomas. “There’s someone I have to see. But I’ll join you shortly, all right?”

“All right,” said Eileen.

Thomas bowed to them, then hurried up to his tower to grab his coat and cloak. He had both on and was in the blacksmith’s yard before very much time had passed at all. “As I suspected,” he said, seeing George. The large man went without a shirt under his apron despite the cold, hammering on a glowing length of steel.

George missed the steel entirely and nearly lost his grip on his hammer when it hit the anvil. The senior smith watching over him tch-ed between his teeth, and George gave a dirty look over his shoulder at Thomas.

“Never mind your friend, Sir George,” said the smith. “The steel needs attention.”

“Mind your friend,” said Thomas. “I haven’t seen you in a week.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Too busy to come to practice?”

“I practice swords all day,” said George without turning away from the forge. His hammer beat a steady rhythm in the steel. “And riding and rules and things I know nothing about.” He hammered the steel twice more, then thrust it back into the hot coals of the forge. “This is where I get to learn something useful.”

“Yeah, well,” Thomas really didn’t have a good argument to make. “I just haven’t seen you.”

“What, Eileen isn’t enough?”

“I haven’t seen much of her, either.”

“I know. Amelia told me.”

“How is it you have time to see Amelia?”

“She comes by the tilting yard at lunches.” George shuddered. “She never shuts up, either. The other knights laugh at me for it. Why are you letting Goshawk spend so much time with Eileen?”

“Because it’s safer for her to be with him than with me.”

George thought about it. “Good reason. You must hate it.”

“Beyond all singing of it.”

“George, the steel needs attention,” said an older smith. “And you’re running out of time.”

George obediently turned his attention back to the steel bar in the coals, pulling it out with a pair of tongs and hammering it on the anvil. The older smith smiled at Thomas. “The lad’s a natural,” he said, “knight or not. I’ve not seen a gift like his in a while.”

“He is that,” agreed Thomas.

“You’ll not be taking him from it, will you?”

“I will not,” said Thomas. “Nor will anyone else. Will you be at the banquet tonight, George?”

“Aye, and no doubt wearing something ridiculous.”

Well, at least one of us is doing what he likes
, Thomas thought, as he headed in for breakfast.
Even if it is only part time.

Thomas went back into the castle proper and managed to have some breakfast. He had expected Eileen to still be there, but she was already gone—headed out on her shopping trip, or still getting ready for it. Thomas finished his meal and headed back to his room, unsure of what to do with himself. More time talking to the refugees was probably the best option. He put on his rapier and coat, wrapped a scarf around his neck and opened the door to see Rose, standing there with her hand raised to knock.

Rose started, then blushed and dropped into a quick curtsey. “Miss Eileen Gobhann is going into the city today and requests your company as escort, if you would be so kind.”

Thomas found himself immediately at a loss for words. It would be the first time they had spent any real time together since the brawl. And since Eileen was planning to go anyway…

Oh, stop trying to justify yourself. Just go see her.