Page 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

My hopes and dreams are fulfilled, and we spend another two glorious days in the comfortable room at the inn. Despite my apprehension—and anticipation—the next application of bruise balm was uneventful, entirely because Tia was in the room with us. I’m still not sure if I’m happy about that or not.

Master contacted me shortly after I returned to the room with a pot of hot water for tea, and assured us that Haftel and King Brend of Lenle had promised to send a squad of the King’s Own Guard—which is a stupid name—to escort us. Tia was pleased about that. Apparently they’re the finest fighters in the country. I was more interested in how fast they ride, but it didn’t seem appropriate to ask if they were dawdlers.

They’re not, because late the third morning, two men in uniform, armed to the teeth, ride into the innyard. I just happen to be on the window seat at that precise moment, enjoying the sunshine in a civilized, indoor way. The rain that’s plagued us for the last two days cleared yesterday afternoon. It’s probably muddy outside, though, so I don’t see any reason to venture from the inn.

I glare sourly at the two soldiers dismounting. They just couldn’t ride slowly, enjoy being out on the road, could they? No. They had to be efficient .

Sighing, I get up and go to meet them. Tia’s off with Leicht, scouting, so she’ll have seen them and probably be on the way back. Jaimin, fully rested and back to his old self after the first day, has been visiting with villagers since. He heard that there hasn’t been a healer here since the old one died a year ago, and he’s taken it upon himself to attend to all the small ailments for which the villagers don’t bother traveling to the nearest village with a healer. They’re suitably grateful, and even though he’s told them he doesn’t want payment, we’ve already been sent a range of foodstuffs and goods. The cider and sweet preserves, I appreciated. The live hen, not so much. I suppose it doesn’t matter—we won’t be able to take much with us. We returned some, and the food we’ve been having for our meals here. The cook has been very pleased with the sudden influx of extra supplies.

At the base of the stairs, I’m met by the innkeeper. He’s frowning. “Mister Silverbright”—I deliberately didn’t tell him I’m a mage. It’s bad enough they all know Jaimin’s a healer—“there’s some men looking for you and your friends. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to see them or not, so I said you weren’t here.”

Aw. I’m going to believe that’s because he’s so fond of me and my amazing personality, and not because I paid in advance for a week and have been tipping like a drunk lord. “Some men?” I say, putting on a quizzical face. “Did they leave?” Possibly I can delay our departure until after lunch. I heard roast chicken is on today’s menu.

“No.” He wrings his hands. “They laughed and said they’d wait in the yard while we fetched you.” His voice lowers. “They’re soldiers . From the King’s Own Guard!”

Well, damn. So much for delaying. I muster a smile and pat his arm. “Ah, you should have said. That’s our escort. I’ll just go out and speak with them. No need for them to bring their muddy boots inside.”

His smile is a combination of relief and disappointment. “Escort? You’re leaving?”

“As much as it pains me, yes. Is lunch nearly ready, do you know?”

He blinks. “I’ll go check.”

While he ventures into the kitchen, I go in search of the soldiers. Sadly, they haven’t decided to leave, but are waiting for me in the yard, watering their horses at the trough by the gate.

“I believe you were looking for me?” I avoid the only remaining mud puddle as I stroll over to them. The sun’s been doing good work, even if it is winter-weak.

They turn to face me. One has an insignia on his shoulder that I’m guessing is supposed to signify rank. Too bad I have no idea what it means. They’re wearing gray tunics under leather vests, heavy riding trousers, and leather hats that look like helmets. The ranking one is middle-aged and has a brown beard and a scar slashing across his nose; the other is clean-shaven and blond. He’s also younger and eyeing me skeptically, which is yet another sign I should have stayed upstairs in my sunny spot by the window.

“Were we?” He smirks.

I shrug. “You’d be the one who knows. If you’re not sure, I’m going to have lunch. What do you Lenlese usually serve with roast chicken?”

They’re taken aback by that and exchange glances. “Uh… root vegetables and gravy is popular,” the older one says slowly. “Sometimes beans.”

“Excellent.” My stomach rumbles at the mere thought, and I turn back toward the inn.

“Wait!”

Gods’ turds. Facing them again, I raise a brow. “Yes?”

“Are you the person we’re here to meet, or not?” The younger one—Blond—folds his arms across his admittedly impressive chest.

“Again, only you’d know that. I’m Talon Silverbright, if that helps.” Look how nice and forgiving I’m being.

They exchange glances again. “You’re Talon Silverbright?” the older one—Scar—asks.

“Yes.” The sun goes behind a cloud, and I shiver, glancing up. There better not be more rain coming. It’s bad enough I’ll have to deal with arrogant soldiers, without adding rain to the mix.

“Prove it,” Blond demands, jutting his chin out.

I look at him and try not to blink in surprise. “ Prove it? How, precisely? Would you like me to produce my mother from my pocket so she can attest to having given birth to me?” Does he realize how ridiculous he is?

His face flushes. “Talon Silverbright is a mage . Do something magic—if you’re really him.” The last words are infused heavily with doubt, and I sigh.

Then grab hold of his ankle and yank him off his feet, dangling him midair. His yelp is absolutely delightful, but not as much as the way his hands scrabble toward the ground, that’s about eight inches out of reach. “Put me down!” he shrieks.

“But you asked me to do something magic,” I protest. “I need to prove I’m a mage, remember? Actually…” I tap a finger against my lips. “You wanted me to prove I’m Talon Silverbright, not just any old mage. In that case, I should do this from a greater height. That’s what I’m known for at the academy—hanging people over the chasm.”

Scar draws his sword and points it at me. “Put him down.”

I scoff. “Sheathe that now, before I take it away from you and melt it into scrap.” Just because I can, and they’ve annoyed me, I give Blond a bit of a shake. He squeaks, and something falls out of his pocket. Scar seems indecisive, so I give his sword a light tug and am rewarded when he hurriedly sheathes it. “Are we quite convinced?”

“Yes!” Blond screams. “Yes, you’re him!”

Scar nods, and I flip Blond right side up and set him gently on his feet. I even telekinetically pick up whatever it was that fell from his pocket and float it to him. He snatches it from the air, red-faced and panting, and shoves it away. Not even a thank-you. I resist the urge to cluck my tongue and chide his manners.

“Let’s begin again, shall we?” I offer magnanimously. “I’m Talon Silverbright. I believe you were looking for me?”

There’s a moment of silence, broken only by the sound of Blond’s panting as he slowly regains his composure. Finally, Scar unclenches his jaw and says, “Mage Silverbright, I’m Sergeant Pim, and this is Clem. We’re here to escort you and your companions to the king’s palace.”

“I suppose we have to. Though I did think there’d be more of you.”

Another pause while they try to decide how to respond. I guess humor isn’t one of the things these soldiers are selected for.

“The rest of the squad—eight men—is waiting outside the village. We didn’t want to cause a ruckus,” Sergeant Pim volunteers at last.

“That’s very considerate of you. I’m sure the villagers appreciate it. My sister, Tavia, has probably already found your men, since she’s not back yet.”

They go on sudden alert. “Sister?” Clem asks. “A woman? Found the men?”

I really, really hope he’s not thinking what I think he is. “Yes. You were told one of us was a rider, correct? That we have a dragon with us?”

From the way Clem pales, I’m guessing he was thinking lascivious thoughts about my sister and is now regretting them as he realizes she’s not a mere damsel. Riders are known to be very open about sex, but they’ll also cut you for the slightest insult.

“We were told,” Pim says neutrally. “We didn’t realize it was your sister.”

I smile. “You’ll adore her. And Leicht, the dragon. He’s delightful. Ask if you can pet him. So… shall we leave after lunch?”

Tia’s spitting mad when she gets back to the inn half an hour later. I warned her telepathically that I’d spoken to the sergeant and that he and Clem weren’t my biggest fans, but I left out the details.

“You hung him upside down by the ankle?” she hisses as she joins me and Jaimin at a table in the dining room.

“What?” Jaimin asks. “You actually do that? I thought it was a rumor!”

I preen a little. It seems word of my work has spread to the Academy of Healers too.

“Talon!” Tia snaps.

“What?” I whine. “They asked me to prove that I was me. How else was I supposed to do that?”

“Oh, I don’t know, what about a fucking mage light? Or something else small and harmless that wouldn’t antagonize the armed soldiers we’ll be sleeping next to!”

Huh. That’s… a good point. “I’ll apologize,” I promise. “And I’ll make it up to him. Do you think he’d want some of this roast chicken?” It’s really excellent. I didn’t wait for Tia’s arrival to start eating.

She huffs and shakes her head, then looks down at her plate. “Is this the hen that farmer gave Jaimin for healing his wife’s gout?”

I immediately gag.

“We don’t ask those questions,” Jaimin tells her placidly, lifting another forkful of chicken to his mouth. “Apparently Talon can’t eat meat when he has to associate it with a living animal.”

“This is a random chicken,” I inform my sister. “Completely random chicken that I never met while it was alive.”

She picks up her fork. “You’re deranged. Also, did you really tell them they should ask to pet Leicht?”

I pick up my wine and study her face. “Are you mad at me about that too?”

“No. You’re an ass for saying it, but they’re adults and soldiers. They know better than to think it might be true.”

“Exactly.” I fork up more chicken. “Are we sure these are the king’s most elite guards? Because I think he sent us the rejects by mistake.”

She snorts. “I’ve met Pim before. He’s an elite soldier—they all are. They’re just not used to Talon Silverbright.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I can’t help feeling indignant. I’m a delight, damn her. All the guards at the academy love me… and my money.

Maybe that’s where I went wrong. Should I have bribed Pim and Clem? I just assumed the king’s most senior soldiers would be offended by that.

“It means that they’re used to mages who are more… traditional,” Jaimin soothes. “Have you met Haftel, the king’s mage advisor? She’s very skilled and knowledgeable, but she doesn’t go around hanging people midair.”

I roll my eyes. “Talking to her is going to be fun.”

They both laugh at me.

“I think you’ll like her,” Jaimin says. “Just… until we get to the palace, try not to annoy the guards too much.”

Ugh. Fine, then.

We set out after lunch. Tia goes ahead, since Leicht is already with the soldiers at their camp, while Jaimin and I saddle the horses and settle up with the innkeeper, who’s most distraught to see us go.

When we ride into the camp—though it’s not really a camp anymore, since Tia’s arrival was a signal to the guards and they’re all mounted up and waiting for us—I’m gratified to see everyone giving Leicht a wide berth. I’d have been extremely upset if he’d decided to befriend them all just to get at me. That’s the kind of petty thing he’d do, no matter how many times Tia tells me I’m crazy. That dragon hates me.

I look around, then nudge Sweetie in the direction of Sergeant Pim and Clem. Sweetie, who’s also not happy about leaving the comfort of the inn, decides to rear instead. I cling to the saddle, hoping I’m not about to be tossed on my ass in front of all these soldiers, and pretend I can’t hear their gasps.

When my demon horse’s hooves are once again firmly on the ground, I lean along her neck and mutter, “Don’t embarrass me, and I’ll get oats for you at the palace. Oats .”

That doesn’t seem to have any effect, so I try again.

“There’s an apple and a carrot in my saddlebag. Cooperate, and they’re yours tonight.”

She snorts and begins walking in the direction I wanted her to. We pass Jaimin, who’s shaking his head, habitual smirk on his handsome face.

I rein Sweetie in, then fish a paper-wrapped parcel from inside my coat. When I told the innkeeper I wanted to take some chicken with me to eat on the road, he suggested it might be easier to ask the cook to put it in a half-loaf of bread.

“Here.” I hold out my offering. “I apologize for what happened earlier. It was a reflexive action, I’m afraid.”

Tia tugs at my mind.

“What? I’m in the middle of something.”

“That’s not how you apologize, Talon!”

Shutting her out, I give the two wary-looking soldiers my most loveable smile. They exchange a cautious glance. My arm is starting to get tired. How would they react if I used telekinesis to hold the sandwich?

“A reflexive action?” Pim asks hesitantly.

I nod. “Muscle memory. I teach, you see. And every year, with the new class, there’s always someone who doubts I’m actually a mage.” I shrug. “So I prove it to them. The class is always very tractable after that.”

Jaws drop. “You actually do that? What you said about hanging people over a chasm?” Clem exclaims. “I thought that was posturing!”

“Nope.” I give the sandwich a little shake, hoping he’ll take it, but he’s too busy staring at me like a fool.

“But they’re children!” Pim sputters.

“They’re eighteen. And the first thing I teach them is how to use fire. Do you know how dangerous fire is? I don’t need them sassing me when fire’s in the equation.” This is getting very boring. “Are you going to take my peace offering or not?”

They both seem to notice it at the same time. “What is it?” Clem asks warily.

“A roast chicken sandwich. With gravy.”

He snatches it from my hand so fast, I blink. “Thank you,” he says, already unwrapping it.

Another win for my charm.

It thankfully stays dry for the next leg of our journey, though the sun is mostly hidden behind ominous banks of clouds. The King’s Own Guard—which is still such a stupid name—aren’t that bad, as far as traveling companions go. They stay fairly alert on the road, but they’re all willing to have a chat, and they have a variety of interesting stories from their soldiering lives. I spend a bit of time riding next to each of the ten men, winning them over with my charm and extensive knowledge of ribald jokes. I’ve yet to meet a fighting man who doesn’t like a dirty joke.

The first night, I’m delightfully surprised to return from making Sweetie comfortable to discover one of them has already set up my tent. When Jaimin questions it (I tried to stop him, but he insisted), they merely say that’s what they always do on escort duty. I privately ask the stone if it would be possible to keep this escort, but it ignores me.

We reach a hill overlooking the city of Lenledia late on the second morning of travel. Pim decides this is a good time to stop for lunch, and I gaze longingly at the city and its plethora of eating houses.

“Or we could press on,” I suggest. “Have lunch at the palace.” I’m sure they have a whole team of excellent cooks there who won’t give us jerky and oatcakes, with resinous canteen water to wash them down.

“Never been to the city before, Mage Silverbright?” he says knowingly. No matter how often I ask, none of them will call me Talon—just like the guards at the academy. It’s vastly annoying.

“Not this one. Why? Is the food at the palace bad?” I hope not.

He shakes his head. “It’s good enough, likely even better for you. But riding through Lenledia isn’t like riding on a highway.”

I’m sure he’s right. No doubt it’s much better.

“He means the roads inside are narrow and full of people,” Jaimin explains quietly from beside me. “We’ll have to go slowly, and it might be a few hours until we reach the palace.”

A few hours ? Belatedly, I remember that Lenledia is one of the oldest cities on the continent. Unlike the City of Knowledge, which was purpose-designed and built, and Harfarin, where my own queen reigns, which was burned to the ground and rebuilt seven hundred years ago, Lenledia’s streets are still made up of the original winding animal paths the first settlers built alongside.

I look around. “What a lovely spot for lunch.”