Fortune and Fate (Twelve Houses) (56 page)
Read Fortune and Fate (Twelve Houses) Online
Authors: Sharon Shinn
But Wen kept watching, just in case.
About a mile later, they came across Orson kneeling at the side of the road beside a bundle of cloth and leather that had to be Garth. Wen felt a quickening of hope. If Garth had been dead, Orson wouldn’t be so intent. She waved to the other guards to keep a close circle around the coach as it halted, but she and Moss spurred over and dismounted.
“He’s alive?” she demanded, dropping to the dirt.
“Barely,” Orson said. “Arrow through his chest, but high. Might have nicked a lung.” He gave her a serious look and a shrug. “Don’t know if he can be saved.”
A voice spoke behind them, spinning Wen around on her knees. “Well, we can’t leave him here to die.”
“Karryn! Get back in the coach!” Wen exclaimed, springing to her feet.
But Karryn wore her intractable look. “Only if you put Garth in first.”
Orson looked up at her, his expression unreadable. “Serra, he might die on the journey.”
“If he dies because he was defending me, then I ought to be there to witness it,” Karryn said. Her voice wavered, but her determination did not.
Orson nodded. “Let’s wrap him in a blanket first.”
It was an excruciating—and excruciatingly slow—exercise to bind the wounded man, bundle him into a blanket and insert him into the vehicle without slamming his broken body against the doorjamb or the seat. Serephette was distressed and disapproving, though she didn’t actively try to impede them. Jasper was sober and silent and helped when he could.
“I can’t think he will survive the rest of the trip,” Jasper said to Wen in a low voice.
Wen shook her head. “I can’t either. But I am so impressed that Karryn wants to take him in.”
Karryn, in fact, was receiving advice from Moss about what she might do to ease the hurt man if he gained consciousness or began bleeding through the rough bandages Orson had applied. Wen added, “She’ll ruin her dress, of course. I wonder if she remembers that she’s expecting Lindy to come over this afternoon.”
Jasper, like Wen, was watching Karryn with a small, satisfied smile. “I wonder if she cares.”
As soon as Garth was settled, the nobles climbed back into the carriage, the three of them crowding together on one seat. Wen waved the guards back to their places. “Move out! And keep a lookout. We aren’t home yet.”
Back on the road, Davey tried to compromise between speed and caution, guiding the carriage around the worst of the ruts and constantly apologizing to Malton for the roughness of the ride. Moss trotted right next to the carriage, calling advice to Karryn through the window. Wen figured as long as Moss was talking, Garth was still alive. She signaled Eggles to fall back to take the rear position and urged her horse past the coach so she could confer with Orson, riding point.
“That tavern we stopped at on the way out,” she said. “Could we leave Garth there?”
His eyebrows rose. “Maybe. They had rooms to rent upstairs. We could leave Moss behind with him. She’s had some training in the sickroom.”
She met his eyes. “Then we’d be down to seven. Six if you discount Malton.”
He held her gaze a long moment before returning his attention to the road ahead. “You expect a second attack?”
“I wasn’t
expecting
a first one.”
expecting
a first one.”
“No,” he contradicted her. “You’re always expecting one. You just don’t know when it’s going to come.”
She acknowledged that with a shrug. Her life was one long series of contingencies. If and then.
If an attack comes from the right, then I will duck to the left. If a man tries to cleave my head open, then I will feint to the side. If an assassin attempts to kill the king
. . .
If an attack comes from the right, then I will duck to the left. If a man tries to cleave my head open, then I will feint to the side. If an assassin attempts to kill the king
. . .
. . .
Then my life is over.
Then my life is over.
“I can’t decide about leaving Moss behind,” she said. “Let’s see what the situation is at the tavern. We might get lucky.”
They did. Wen and Orson left the others with the coach when they stepped inside to inquire into amenities. The tavernkeeper remembered them from their earlier visit, and he was obsequiously eager to show honor to the serramarra and her entourage.
“Certainly—we would be extremely happy to keep the serra’s guard!” the proprietor exclaimed. “How badly is he injured? My daughter-in-law is a healer—a mystic, you know.” He then looked nervous at having let that secret slip, for mystics were still widely reviled in Fortunalt. “Unless the serra would prefer we practice no magic upon one of her men,” he added hastily.
“The serra would prefer anything that keeps her men alive,” Wen said. “In fact, she keeps two mystics in her employ. Times have changed since her father was marlord.”
The tavernkeeper brightened even more at this news. Wen wondered if he had a grandchild or two who had also shown evidence of mystic blood. He might not feel much affection for a sorcerous daughter-in-law, but a grandson? A man could be expected to fight hard for his own flesh and blood.
“I will send for her right away,” he said. “She can be here within the hour.”
Wen nodded. “Good. Then we will bring our friend inside. And leave some funds with you to cover the cost of his care.”
Naturally, it was just as tricky to move Garth out of the carriage as into it, and then they had to negotiate the narrow halls behind the taproom. Karryn, to Wen’s admiration and dismay, insisted on accompanying the fallen soldier to his temporary infirmary and then personally thanking the proprietor, while handing over an impressive pile of coins.
“I will send someone back for him tomorrow,” Karryn promised the tavernkeeper as Wen tried to encourage her toward the door. “Thank you again for your hospitality.”
At last they were on the road again, moving at a somewhat more rapid pace. Malton had fallen into an uneasy sleep and sunset was less than an hour away. At this rate, full dark would arrive while they were still on the road.
“As fast as you can go without tiring the horses overmuch,” Wen instructed Davey, and he urged them to somewhat greater speed.
She had a hard time remembering the last time she had so desperately wanted to be home.
Chapter 29
THREE HOURS LATER, THEY WERE SAFELY INSIDE FOR
TUNE’S hedge. Karryn’s mother had swept her into the mansion without letting her pause to speak to her guards again. Malton had been carried to the barracks, where Eggles and Moss treated him rather more thoroughly and expressed their opinion that he would be fine as long as his wounds didn’t get infected. The soldiers left behind had been filled in on the events of the day, most of them expressing a little envy at having missed out on the excitement. Wen reshuffled the planned watches, for those who had had escort duty needed a break, but the house and grounds still needed to be patrolled.
TUNE’S hedge. Karryn’s mother had swept her into the mansion without letting her pause to speak to her guards again. Malton had been carried to the barracks, where Eggles and Moss treated him rather more thoroughly and expressed their opinion that he would be fine as long as his wounds didn’t get infected. The soldiers left behind had been filled in on the events of the day, most of them expressing a little envy at having missed out on the excitement. Wen reshuffled the planned watches, for those who had had escort duty needed a break, but the house and grounds still needed to be patrolled.
They all devoured Ginny’s meal as if it was a banquet served for the queen herself. “Who will go to look after Garth?” Ginny asked as she sat beside Wen to join them for the meal.
“Moss is going back tomorrow, and maybe Davey,” Wen said.
“I don’t suppose you have any magic in you,” Davey asked Ginny, flirting a little. “Like your brother does. Only what we need right now is a healer, not a reader.”
Ginny tossed back her red braid. “I don’t. But I did a lot of the nursing back on my mother’s farm.”
“Good. Then you can come with us,” he said.
Orson speared another slice of meat and dropped it on his plate. “From what I hear, Moss’s magic is what saved us this afternoon,” he said. “I’m sorry I was riding so far in the rear I missed
that
.”
that
.”
Moss made a small motion with her right hand, as if to brush aside her importance, but Wen could tell she was pleased. Moss was sitting beside Orson, and Wen thought her left hand might be resting on his thigh under the table. That was what a brush with death did for you—it made you want to draw closer to the people for whom you felt a strong affection. Moss said, “I didn’t even think. I saw the arrows coming and I made them stop. I hadn’t even realized I could do that.”
Wen toasted Moss with her glass and the rest of the guards followed suit. “Orson’s right. Without your magic, we’d have lost more than a coachman. We’d have seen three or four of the guards go down—maybe more.”
“I wish I knew how to turn the arrows around and fling them right back at the archers,” Moss said.
She sounded so bloodthirsty that Orson laughed. “Guess you ought to start practicing that very thing tomorrow morning,” he said. “I’ll help you out—I’m not bad with a bow. But you better not stick any arrows in
me
.”
me
.”
The rest of the meal passed in much the same way, a mix of banter, speculation, and analysis of what they had done right and wrong. After dinner, the whole group slowly dispersed, some going to bed, some going to patrol. Davey lingered to help Ginny clear the table and ask her again if she wanted to ride out with them in the morning. Wen stood at the door for a few moments, watching him doubtfully. Ginny was too young to be drawing the attention of men, but Davey was barely eighteen himself, scarcely four years older than she was. And he made her laugh. Twice while Wen listened, Ginny giggled in response to something the young guard said. She didn’t look like she minded his attention. Wen hesitated a moment longer, then stepped outside.
Orson was a couple moments behind her. A little light spilled out from the windows but he was something of a blur in the dark of evening. “He doesn’t mean her any harm,” he said. He had obviously noticed her concern about Davey and Ginny. “And Moss won’t let him try anything if Ginny goes with them tomorrow. Moss isn’t much of one for tolerating bullies. But I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
Wen gave him a tight smile. “Never thought I was the type to fret,” she said.
She could just make out the amusement on Orson’s face. “Really? And here I thought that’s what you do best.”
Now her expression was threatening. “Make fun of me and I’ll show you what I do best,” she said. “And you’ll see it from the ground with your head bashed in.”
His grin widened. “That’s what I like about you,” he said. “You prefer extreme solutions.”
“I prefer solutions that work,” she retorted. “I don’t mind if they’re extreme.”
He nodded, instantly sobering. “You did good today,” he said softly. “Holding off the attack, organizing the guards. All your training was for something like this. You passed the test.”
“So did all of you.”
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