Page 23 of The Mage’s Rake (Catkin Trilogy #2)

Hugh

W hen Alan shared his stories of the Lower Rime with Landis, I’m certain he never imagined that they would end up working together to run a charity soirée.

I was sure that neither Landis nor Alan believed that they would successfully corral a multitude of nobles around Wintermas to raise funds for the common folk.

After all, despite his position, Landis still struggled to feel comfortable leading Sumarene, particularly the Royal Court.

Simply learning to say “no”, for a timid young tom like Landis, was difficult.

Thankfully, Corrin’s presence had gifted Landis with a sense of self-respect that helped to bolster his self-confidence.

Similarly, the Alan of old would never have emerged from his rooms or laboratory except to attend to his court duties.

Previously, he never seemed interested in placing himself at the forefront of the court’s dramas or politics.

In fact, quite a few lords and ladies were surprised to hear that King Landis had officially received support from the White Tower in the form of High Mage Alan Carwick, the White Tower’s most capable mage in centuries.

While his magickal prowess and acumen had earned him a name in the circles of magery, Alan had not made any impact on Landis’s court—until this moment.

The two of young toms stood side by side at the top of the stairs, smiling painfully and greeting each guest. There was a charming shyness about Landis that could melt most hearts of stone, his cousin Lord Morne excepting.

Alan, on the other hand, clearly petrified, had retreated to pained smiles and an aloof posture that might have deterred any guest had not the activities within been so attractive. Namely, myself.

Recognizing the hunch to Alan’s shoulders, I meandered over to the two hosts, clapped Alan on the back, and cracked a crass joke about moon magic.

Alan’s tail instantly rose and fluffed with annoyance.

His white eyebrows beetled together, and his nose scrunched, adorably, at my words.

Violet eyes gleaming behind his over-sized silver spectacles, Alan skewered me with a single look.

“What devilry are you up to, Hugh?”

“Just doing the rounds,” I said, easing to stand by him and placing my hand just above the curve of his hidden rump. “Checking certain… areas to ensure that all is well.”

“I’m certain that area is just fine,” Alan said. “I have it covered.”

“That you do,” I shot back cheekily.

A small smile flitted across Alan’s face, which drew an audible gasp from Lady Brockhurst and her daughters.

No doubt they suddenly realized that High Mage Alan Carwick was, after all, a rather handsome tom with a winsome appearance.

When he was smiling and not imitating a corpse.

I sighed and leaned forward to whisper in Alan’s ear.

Noticing my movement, Alan tilted his head back, leaned away, and narrowed his eyes at me.

“What are you doing, Hugh?”

“Just telling you a secret.”

“What if I don’t want your secret?”

“Oh, you do.”

“I do?” Alan asked, snappishly, but there was a definite smile gracing his lips now.

“I said as much.” I grinned back at him. “Just admit it. You want to know.”

“Fine,” Alan said with a note of chagrin. “Consider my curiosity piqued. What is it?”

“Oh, nothing, really,” I replied airily.

Ignoring his incensed squawk in response, I ambled off.

I glanced back and waved insouciantly. Alan turned his nose up at me and flicked his tail in annoyance, but I could see that the tension in his shoulders had eased and a more genuine smile rested on his lips.

The new incoming guests, however, still stared at the tall, slender mage, no doubt because he was, for the first time in their experience, smiling.

With my self-appointed task complete, I began my real work in earnest—overseeing the guards on duty for the evening.

Tonight the castle was playing host to two hundred guests.

Two hundred or thereabouts. This meant an additional set of servants had been temporarily hired for the evening.

On top of that, there was a higher amount of traffic in and out of the castle.

It would be a perfect opportunity for all sorts of mischief should an ambitious lord have a mind to cause trouble for Landis.

Corrin and the royal guards were diligently patrolling and noting the guests who entered, but in the throngs of newcomers, any soul looking to cause trouble would find entrance easily.

As if reading my thoughts, Corrin, looking grim, caught my attention and surreptitiously beckoned me to one of the shadowed side halls, where Alf now stood.

“Something the matter?” I asked, instantly feeling my chest tighten with worry.

“Something,” Corrin said in his usual terse manner while on patrol. “Alf?”

“It wasn’t me, beggin’ yer pardon,” Alf said. “A tom had come with the performers for the show, like, and said he heard some rumors. I put him in the guardroom—“

I nodded and led the way to the guardroom with Alf and Corrin on my heels.

Alf spoke rapidly. A small choir of kits had been brought in for some performance.

Kits from the Lower Rime had been chosen and corralled by Aileen and young Lady Merry, who was famous for her work in the Lower Rime.

The idea, Landis and Alan had told me, was to pluck at the heartstrings of the wealthy by presenting cute kits in an adorable show.

Transforming the faceless masses into something more familiar and heartwarming , Alan said.

Of course, someone might try to use the busyness behind the scenes to infiltrate the castle.

Hairs rose on my neck and arms as I made my way to the guardroom.

At the sight of Ian, dressed up warmly in dark clothing and wearing a worried expression, my heart plummeted.

Instantly, I sent two guards to fetch Ser Bertram and Ser Andersen.

My worst fears began to pile up in the back of my mind: a coup? A riot? An assassination attempt?

“Ian,” I said, keeping my voice even. “Tell me you’re here simply to help with marshaling the young ones? I heard there is some kind of singing tonight.”

“Tommie can’t sing, but he insisted on helping hold a candle,” Ian replied.

For a second, a warm smile flitted across his face—and then it evaporated as he continued.

“So I figured I’d help with the kits. The folk bit off more than they can chew, I reckon, as these kits are rascals, godsdamn them.

And bless’em, of course. And I was on my way with Tommie and a packful of others with some young mollies when I chanced to overhear one o’ the mollie’s beaus.

One of them types, beggin’ yer pardon, milord, one o’ them rogues as I mentioned. ”

Rogues. That was just… fantastic to hear.

“You overhead something?”

“A whisper, like, and I asked another mollie, that’d be Redheaded Jen.

And she tol’ me that her, er, well, ye ken, Redheaded Jen is, well…

” Ian winked. “One of her lads who was, ah, visitin’ her a couple nights past mentioned that word had spread of the King’s generous proposal to the landed folk.

The Lower Rime was all in a fuss, I can tell you.

Quite a few happy, hopeful faces, but also some sour ones, I reckon.

It’s rough, you understand, and, well, one thing led to another, and Jennie told me that some coin was circulating for capable individuals what might have an eye for an easy kill. ”

A kill.

“You believe someone may attempt to attack the king?” I asked.

Spoken so bluntly, the words fell heavily. The room silenced. Ian’s face paled, but he nodded slowly.

“I figured Lord Corrin and the others will be on guard, but a warning might help,” he added.

“We thank you for the warning, Ian. Best go stay with the kits and the mollies,” I suggested calmly. “They’ll need help—particularly someone who understands the situation—should anything go awry. Corrin—“

“I’ll go stand by Landis,” Corrin said instantly, knowing what I was about to say. “And I’ll take Alf and Rolf with me.”

“Good.”

“Ser Bertram. Ser Anderson. Bad news.”

I turned to the two captains who entered the room, panting and out of breath.

Within minutes, Ser Bertram was posted to secure the north side of the castle and Ser Anderson to the south.

With my guards now placed as best as I could, I strode down the hallways on my self-appointed circle around the inner corridors that ringed around the great hall.

It took everything within me not to rush into the hall and join Corrin… and Alan.

Gods. Alan. The realization hit me. Alan would be in the thick of whatever happened if whatever happened, well, happened.

The Alan I had thought I knew would have a remarkable sense of self-preservation and remove himself from any unpleasantness instantly.

The Alan I now knew was less predictable.

He was just as likely to throw himself into the fray as he was to retire.

It wasn’t easy to keep calm, but I managed it somehow, and before I knew it, my patrol was complete.

No sign of any rogues, thieves, or meandering folk.

No sign of shadowy catkin or ne’er-do-wells.

In some senses, that was great news. On the other hand, anyone might have already infiltrated the hall with the servants, the additional hired staff, and the visiting mollies with the children.

Even now, I could hear a tell-tale sound of high chanting voices.

After double-checking that all of my guards were where they ought to be, I dove into the shadowy side of the hall and watched entranced as a pack of kits began singing a Wintermas carol.

Kits never figured large in my life, but for the first time in my life, I felt a pang in my chest. I had no kits, and none of my siblings or cousins had been lucky enough to leave any kits behind.

I was the last Starr. Seeing their short stubby tails and ears, wayward curls, and round, fairy-like faces reminded me of a past life I had long forgotten when I too had been a young kit.

Judging by the soft sighs and enthralled faces as the children stood and sang while holding candles, many others in the court agreed with me.

My gaze drifted from face to face until I recognized little Tommie.

He was slighter and smaller than the others, and as Ian had noted, he couldn’t sing much beyond croaking the occasional note, but he held onto his candle and kept a smile pasted on his face.

A smile that fell away as his dark blue eyes widened and a look of shock crossed his face.

Without compunction, Tommie let loose a bloodcurdling yell that sent him into a fit of body-wracking coughs.

Tommie had seen something—just as I had—a shadow slipping from one of the pillars and dashing toward Landis.

A move that was certainly odd, given the crowded venue and how Corrin had placed Landis among a pack of nobles. Landis and Alan.

At the sight of the approaching attacker, Alan began to weave some white spellcraft. Corrin shouted, unsheathed his sword, stepped in front of Landis, and raised his blade, pointing toward the ceiling. Or rather , I realized, to the second floor’s stone balustrade.

“Hugh!” Alan’s voice rang out clearly even as the rest of the room immediately collapsed into a poorly contained uproar.

Landis was forced down onto his knees by Rolf and Alf and two other guards who posted themselves about the king protectively.

Lord Morne, Lord Mayberry, and others also cowered while peering upwards.

As Corrin clashed with the oncoming attacker, Alan lashed upwards with tendrils of his white magic, sending one of the shadows into a jerking type of paralysis.

This attack gave me the opportunity to instantly lunge upwards, grabbing onto the sculptured pillar that supported the second-floor gallery.

Thanks to Alan, I was able to swarm up easily just in time to chase down the third catkin rogue.

At the last minute, he turned and drew two wicked-looking blades.

I had no desire to fell the would-be assassin.

I would rather save a life and question the catkin later, but the wildcat wasn’t about to go quietly.

Drawing my short blade, I rushed forward, shifting to the left to avoid his first left-handed strike and then using the metal of my gauntlets to batter past his follow-up swing.

My own sword, swinging upwards, met resistance from one of his blades.

“Look out!”

Alan again. This time behind the rogue, having clearly mounted the nearby winding staircase to the second galley.

Light leaped from his fingers, once again sending shocks through the second catkin that had been creeping up behind me.

The third rogue cursed, raced to the window, and attempted to break his way through, but my blade caught him in the shoulder, slowing him down.

I pinned him, thrashing, to the ground. Alan raced passed me and kicked away the bow and arrow the second attacker had dropped.

“Rope,” I said.

“I’ve got one better.” Alan grinned as he raised a hand and shocked the catkin senseless with another brush of his white aura. He straightened, violet eyes sparkling behind slightly steamed glasses. “Well, that was… exciting.”