Rise of the Mages (Rise of the Mages 2) (24 page)

Lainey followed Marisol upstairs. What must the girl think about her traveling in such company?

Xan was a complete jerk. Their hosts threw them such a nice dinner, and he didn’t even bother to attend?

And Brant!

The way he’d behaved with Lady Ashley! Lainey didn’t want to know what they had been doing with their hands under the table. Worse, how could Brant have been so proud about killing those poor men? And to mention her role in the whole debacle?

She winced. Not only had she failed to save anyone, she’d added to her butcher’s bill. How would she ever make things right?

He was definitely as much of a jerk as her brother. Only Dylan didn’t act like a buffoon. Didn’t brag. Didn’t try to hurt people.

Marisol opened a door to a bedroom. Light from a lamp on a nightstand revealed a bunk and a pallet lying beside it. She turned toward Lainey and shrank back as if expecting a blow. “I’m so sorry about how small the room is.”

Lainey curled her lips into a halfhearted smile. “I’m the one who should apologize. You must think my manners hideous.”

Marisol froze, obviously unsure how to respond.

Goodness. To have scared the girl so.

“The road has been long getting this far, and we’ve still many miles to go,” Lainey said. “Adventures aren’t quite what the stories make them out to be.”

“Anything’s better than being stuck all your life on a farm,” Marisol muttered.

Lainey could relate. Just a couple of weeks ago, what would she have given to get out of Eagleton? She shook her head ruefully.

“You can have the bed, of course,” Marisol said.

“Nonsense. You’ve already sacrificed your room to the niskma and been forced to sleep in your brother’s.”

Marisol looked at the bed and at the pallet. “Father would—”

“Your father need never know.”

After they’d changed into their night clothes, Marisol said, “How did you end up traveling alone with three boys anyway? Is one your intended?”

Lainey barked out a harsh chuckle. “Definitely not, but Xan, unfortunately, is my brother.”

“Oh.” Marisol settled onto the bed and looked away. “I missed him at dinner.”

Her implication couldn’t have been clearer if she’d hung up a huge sign, but Lainey still couldn’t believe it. Since when were girls interested in Xan? “Him? Really? Over Brant or Dylan?”

“I didn’t say I fancied …” Marisol’s face reddened. “He is sort of cute. And, maybe … dangerous?”

Not words Lainey had ever heard to describe Xan. “You have no idea about dangerous. Trust me, you want no part of him.”

Marisol sighed. “It’s not like I’ll ever see any of you again after breakfast tomorrow, anyway.”

“Look, Marisol—”

“Oh, please call me Mari. I’ve been trying forever to get my family to shorten it.”

“Mari it is then.” Lainey couldn’t help but give the girl a tiny smile. “Trust me, you don’t know how lucky you are to be safe at home. Better than being chased. Better than fearing for your life. Better than doing bad things to people.”

“You’re probably right. It’s just that nothing remotely interesting has ever happened to me.”

Interesting wasn’t the word Lainey would have used. “Xan’s a horrible choice, anyway. So is Brant.”

“How so?”

Lainey closed her eyes for a moment. How to explain? “Xan thinks he knows everything when he doesn’t have a clue. Brant is only interested in adventures and soldiering. Neither has the emotional maturity the Holy One gave a housefly.”

That might have been a little harsh. “Both will eventually be husband material, but they have a lot of growing up to do.”

“You left out the short one. Dylan?”

Wow. That was even tougher. “Practical. Capable. Sensitive without being wimpy. Comes from a good family and will do quite well for himself.” His only real issue was being silly enough to think money was more important than love, but the right girl would straighten him out fast enough. “Definitely the best of them.”

“It almost sounds like you have a thing for him.”

Lainey laughed. “He and Brant are almost as much my brothers as Xan. I could never …” Well, not never.

“What?”

Heat rose to Lainey’s face. “No. I can’t.”

Mari leaned forward on her elbows. “You can’t say something like that and not continue. I’ll die if I don’t find out.”

Lainey buried her face in her pillow. “Don’t you dare tell anyone.”

“You can trust me. Besides, when would I ever have a chance?”

“Dylan and I kissed once.” Lainey couldn’t even look at Mari. “I was twelve and curious. There were only three boys in Eagleton anywhere close to my age. Brant was already way too experienced, and it wasn’t like I could choose my brother.”

“What was it like?”

Lainey’s face heated again. “Nice. Kind of messy but nice.”

“But you don’t feel anything for him now?”

“I care deeply about him.” And Brant. And as much as Lainey didn’t want to, Xan. “But there could never be anything romantic between us.”

She peeked out from behind the pillow. How could she still care about such trivial matters with everything that had happened? With everything she’d done. “I’ve said enough. It’s your turn.”

Mari shrugged. “I’ve never been alone with a boy, much less kissed one. Again, nothing interesting has ever happened to me. Literally.”

“There must be something. Some secret?”

Mari stared at the door silently for a moment, obviously listening. “You won’t tell Father I told you?”

Lainey nodded.

“Father’s titled. Rightfully, he should be called Lord Greenfield instead of master.” Mari sighed. “He thinks it’s ‘putting on airs’ to say so.”

“But you live on a farm?”

“‘Greenfields have tilled this land for nine generations.’” Mari rolled her eyes. “I’d rather be at court.”

“Why aren’t you then?”

“Are you kidding? Father won’t let me out of his sight, and he’s certainly not going to travel all the way to the City.”

All Lainey had to do was mention Mari’s desire to Lady Ashley. A word from the niskma would change Master Greenfield’s mind.

With one tiny act, Lainey could help, but should she? Asherton was about to be sieged. Traveling there was dangerous. She’d be exposing Mari to catchers and mages and soldiers.

“I wish I could help you,” Lainey said.

“I understand.” Mari blew out the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. “It just sucks that everyone cares more about my safety than I do. Shouldn’t I get to choose?”

She had a point. How many times had Lainey railed against the boys on just that subject? How hypocritical was she being?

Lainey sighed. “Fine. I’ll see what I can do.”

* * *

A rooster woke Dylan to dim sunlight filtering through cracks in the hayloft wall. He rose and dressed, trying to be quiet as he climbed down the ladder to avoid waking his still-sleeping friends.

Once outside, he stretched and yawned loudly. He’d not slept well despite the hay making for a more comfortable bed than he’d had in recent memory.

Should he do as Brant advised? It felt so wrong to leave, but neither Brant advising caution nor Xan turning despondent was normal. Perhaps it was time.

Dylan nodded. Why had he stayed as long as he had? No one would look down on him for leaving. Crap, they were asking him to do it. He’d even be a hero for saving Lainey.

No amount of spin, though, changed the fact that he’d be abandoning his friends.

When it came to business, he made quick, perfect decisions. Why couldn’t he do the same for his personal life?

He’d start now. No more wavering. Ride with the others to the garrison. From there, Lainey and he would go their own way.

Dylan whistled as he walked to a water basin at the back door of the mansion. His reflection showed the brightness of his favorite blue tunic and the crispness of his black pants despite months of use. He grinned. The shop owner had asked two silvers for the outfit, but Dylan had only paid a single copper.

Soon, he’d return to that life.

Once he’d tidied up, he knocked. Jeffry, dressed impeccably in a ruffled mauve shirt and tailored brown pants, stifled a yawn as he answered and, after exchanging pleasantries, led Dylan to the breakfast table.

Lainey, attired as usual in baggy travel trousers and his least favorite of her hideous brown shirts, stood next to Marisol as they both looked on in rapt attention as Lady Ashley huddled in deep conversation with Master Greenfield. Dylan smiled at her dress—a shade of purple produced only by his family’s dye. Nice. Their salesmasters could make use of the niskma’s tacit endorsement.

“Could you be more conspicuous? She’s the duke’s daughter, man,” Jeffry said quietly.

Dylan snapped his eyes away. As if he’d think such about someone so high above his station. Brant and Xan, however, would probably appreciate her dress more for it being form-fitting than for its color.

Dylan risked a closer look at Marisol. She wore a gold dress of conservative cut, though much prettier than her pink ball gown of the previous evening. Lace and pearls embellishing the bodice made the garment seem like something appropriate for a doll. Her wide eyes dominated her round face, further adding to the resemblance.

Not fantastically beautiful but cute.

“I must insist, Master Greenfield. Marisol will make a fine lady-in-waiting.” Lady Ashley clinked her porcelain teacup in the center of a saucer. “She’ll ride with us today, and I’ll have my father’s clerks send the proper sureties once we reach Asherton.”

The offer surprised Dylan as overly generous. Such positions weren’t typically available for the untitled.

The farmer looked flustered. “With three boys along? And no chaperon?”

Lady Ashley scowled.

Though Dylan wasn’t the intended target, he stepped back. What a monster. Good thing she’d been too concerned with Brant and Xan even to notice him.

Master Greenfield sat back in his chair as if repelled. “That’s not to say you’re not fully capable of guarding my daughter’s honor.” He swallowed. “But what about the danger? You’ve been out of touch. Perhaps you don’t know about the impending siege?”

“Are you implying, sir, that my father lacks the ability to guarantee the safety of his subjects?”

“My lady! I didn’t mean—”

“That’s good,” the niskma said, “because such an accusation would border on treason!”

The farmer’s shoulders slumped. “I would consider it the utmost honor if you accepted her into your court.” Each word sounded forced.

Lady Ashley smiled. “It’s settled then.”

Master Greenfield’s eyes lit upon Jeffry. “I’ll send men with you for protection. You’ve been kidnapped once.”

“Father! It’s harvest season,” Marisol said. “And you’ve already sent all the men you can spare.”

“One or two won’t hurt.” He frowned. “My son doesn’t do much anyway.”

Jeffry shrugged and grinned at Dylan. “True enough.”

“What good would a child and a couple of farmhands do?” Lady Ashley said.

“They can—”

“My escorts, Master Greenfield, are more capable than they appear, and it’s little more than a day’s ride to the garrison.”

The farmer stood and pulled his daughter into his arms. “This is too soon, little one. It seems like you were just weaned yesterday.”

Marisol blushed bright red. “Father!”

“I know. You’re too old for that kind of talk.” Master Greenfield buried his head in her curly brown hair. “You mind the niskma now. She’ll look out for you.” He directed a significant look at Lady Ashley, who nodded in response.

As the girl stepped away, she turned to Dylan. “You don’t have a problem with my coming along, do you?”

Why would she ask him? Even if he could object to the niskma’s wishes, why would he? As long as the girl didn’t cause him any more work and didn’t interfere with him leaving, bringing her along didn’t impact him. “The more, the merrier.”

* * *

Lainey shook her head as Mari fretted over the size of her three small saddlebags. “All you need is a couple of changes of clothes.”

“No, I’m going to court. I need gowns.” Mari froze. “I can’t believe I’m going to court!” She spun and hugged Lainey. “All because of you.”

“It will be good to have another girl along. I can’t exactly chat with Lady Ashley.”

Mari drew a yellow dress from her armoire and folded it. “I paid more attention to your friend this morning. He’s sort of cute.”

“Dylan? Really?”

“A little uptight, maybe, but cute.” Mari giggled. “And he checked me out even with the way Lady Ashley was dressed. That’s a good sign, right?” She paused. “Do you think I’m his type?”

It might be fun to help her win him. Someone so … excitable … might do him good. And if Lainey could teach him a lesson about the value of love over money, so much the better.

She grinned. “I think you’re perfect. Want a little advice?”