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Iron and Magic Page 23
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Page 23
Rufus’s eyebrows crept up.
“Three drops in a glass of water half an hour before the date. Don’t mix with alcohol. It tastes vile, and the drops are hard to get out, and that’s on purpose.”
“Why?”
“Because there hasn’t been a man alive who doesn’t subscribe to the philosophy that six drops surely must be better than three. Three does the job. Six will leave you in an uncomfortable situation and possibly warrant a trip to the hospital.”
Rufus pondered the bottle. “There was a commotion last night.”
She met his gaze. “We live in the middle of a magical wood, Commander. Once in a while something scales the wall in the deep of night and tries to eat the children. The Iron Dogs took care of it. And then Hugh insisted they bring the hounds on patrols. I’m sorry the barking was distracting.”
Rufus nodded, his face thoughtful, and set the jar back on the table.
“Is something bothering you, Commander?” Elara asked.
The big man leaned back. Last night at dinner – which felt like a month ago – he’d played the brawler so well. Just a good old boy, not too bright, easily pacified with good food and beer. Today his eyes were shrewd. Rufus Fortner was a lot sharper than he wanted people to believe.
“I get him,” he said. “This is a great place. Defensible, well-supplied, and isolated. No law enforcement to get in the way. No troublesome politics. Nobody tells him what to do. His men are fed and housed. He’s got everything a man could want: a castle, of which he’s lord and master, an army, and a beautiful wife. But what do you get out of it?”
There it was. Loving spouse, she reminded herself. I don’t want to kill Hugh on a daily basis. He is my favorite. I adore him, and he makes my toes curl. “He’s my husband,” she said.
Rufus grimaced. “You’ve got to know the man is a butcher. People call me a rough man. I’ve got a rough reputation, and I’ve earned it. I’ve done things that keep good folks up at night. Hugh d’Ambray scares me. He is the monster rough men like me fear. I’ve got blood on my hands. Hugh is up to his neck in it.”
The memory of thick blood spreading on the surface of the water came to her and she glimpsed Hugh again, standing with his feet in her pool, a twisting fiery maelstrom of raw pain and guilt burning behind him.
“He’s not that anymore,” Elara said.
“A tiger doesn’t change its stripes,” Rufus said.
“You misunderstand. I don’t want him to change his stripes. You said it yourself, he is the monster rough men fear.” She smiled at him, sharp, pinning him with her gaze. “He puts himself between evil creatures and small children. He protects us. He is my monster, Commander. Should any rough men come here and try to take what is ours, he will remind them of that.”
Rufus studied her. “I see you are well matched.”
“We are.”
“What happens when he takes his army and marches out to conquer?”
Elara almost laughed. If he’d only seen Hugh’s troops a month ago, when they had gotten their first helping of fresh bread in weeks. The Iron Dogs had been strays for too long. They knew where their food came from. They were in no hurry to leave and neither was their Preceptor.
“This castle is my home, Commander. I’m not going anywhere. I can’t leave my people and Hugh won’t leave me.”
“Are you sure about that?”
Elara motioned to him. “Come.”
Rufus walked over to where she stood at the window. She pointed to the empty moat far below, past the curtain wall. “You see that man testing the concrete pad over there? That’s him.”
“How can you tell from this distance?”
“I know him. I know the way he holds himself. The engineer came and got him at dawn.” Rook had dutifully reported it to her. “They finally got their Roman concrete to set. Does this look to you like a man set on conquering or does it look like a man obsessed with fortifying the castle for his people?”
Rufus didn’t answer. Below Hugh straightened and spoke to his engineer. Next to him a much smaller figure crawled onto the concrete, straightened, and hopped up and down. Cedric jumped next to her and flopped on his side.
“Who is that?” Rufus asked.
“Deidre. He rescued her, and now she follows him.” She’d run to find him the first chance she got.
Hugh picked Deidre up, carried her to the wall of the moat, and lifted her above his head. A woman in the Iron Dog uniform leaned in from above, grabbed the little girl’s hands, and pulled her up out of the moat. Hugh followed. He headed to the castle gates, and Deidre followed, Cedric trailing them.
“You’re right,” Elara said, “he is up to his neck in death. He’s had all the conquering a man could want and then some. All he wants now is to stay here, live in peace, and wash some of that blood off.”
“I hope you’re right. For all of our sakes.”
“I do too,” she told him and meant it. “So, will you place any orders, Commander?”
He spread his arms and the ‘oh shucks good old boy’ was back. “You’ve convinced me. Let’s haggle?”
Elara glanced one last time at Hugh, as a woman who loved him would, and turned to the table. “I do so love haggling.”
Getting the Red Guards out of the castle proved to be a longer affair than Hugh hoped. At first light, he’d sent Stoyan out with thirty Red Guards to Redhill. They’d made the three-hour round trip and come back. The report was short. Same as the palisade in the woods, except this time seventy people were taken. He’d called to the sheriff’s office himself. Will Armstrong didn’t sound thrilled. A palisade with a few families was one thing. A small settlement like Redhill was a different thing entirely.
They’d spent the rest of the phone call dancing around the fact that Armstrong didn’t have the manpower to handle this and they both knew it. He promised to send a man down to investigate and interview Alex Tong. Hugh thanked him. They made some polite noises and hung up. They were on their own.
They needed to get the moat done. Hugh was chomping at the bit to get back down there, but he had to have lunch and exchange pleasantries. It was almost noon, and still the Red Guards dragged their feet. Finally, Rufus climbed onto his eighteen-hand Belgian draft and prepared to take off.
“It was lovely meeting you folks.” Rufus favored them with a huge grin.
“The pleasure is all ours, Commander,” Elara told him and smiled as if Rufus and she were bosom buddies.
Hugh briefly considered pulling Rufus off his horse and dumping him on the ground on his ass. It was an odd urge. He pondered where it came from.
“Visit any time,” he said and held his hand out.
Rufus gripped it. “We came for the beer, stayed for the company. Love to do it again.”
They shook.
“You two make a lovely couple,” Rufus told them. “Have fun without me, newlyweds!”
“Oh, we will,” Hugh promised him.
“Well, we’re off.” Rufus swung his horse toward the gates. The Red Guards rode out. Hugh caught Elara’s arm and strolled with her to the gates.
The Red Guardsmen rode down the path. The female Guard glanced back at them over her shoulder.
Elara smiled and waved. Hugh slid his arm around her and squeezed her to him. Her smile sharpened.
The moment the woman turned back, Elara tried to stomp on his foot. He was ready, and she missed. Her sandal hit the stone, but she was out of his hands.
“If you’re going to do that, love, you should wear heels.”
She shot him a look of pure venom. “Eat dirt and die.”
Oh good. He leaned closer to her and murmured, “Careful. Your new best friend isn’t quite out of earshot yet.”
“He won’t hear.” She gave him the stink eye, then her eyes brightened. “I rather like him. He came to me very concerned this morning.”
“Why?” More importantly, why didn’t anyone tell him about that?
“He wanted to warn me that you were a b
utcher.”
“Oh that.”
“I reassured him that I was aware of that.”
“I bet you did.”
“You know,” Elara murmured thoughtfully. “He is kind of handsome. In that older grizzled veteran way.”
“Rufus the Ashes? Sorry to disappoint you, but he’s happily married.”
“Really?”
“For about thirty years now. Marissa likes splitting people with her axe, so I would think twice if I were you.”
“You’re making this up,” she said.
“Go ahead. Test the waters. Just don’t come running to me when she shows up here looking to make you a head shorter.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I wouldn’t run to you if you were the last man on Earth.”
He smiled at her, leaned closer, and murmured, “You did yesterday.”
Elara actually growled. A real growl, under her breath, but still a growl. He almost laughed.
“I see your concrete finally set,” she said.
“Mhm.”
“In that case, you should consider being very nice to me during the next few days.”
“Why?”
“You’ll be needing gasoline for your cement mixer and you’re over your limit. Again.”
Bloody woman. “Are you telling me that with all that beer and all your eyelash fluttering, you couldn’t con that old man out of some money?”
“I don’t con! I conduct business by selling a quality product.”
Johanna emerged from the tower and walked in their direction.
“How much?” he asked.
“We’re going to make about eighty-seven grand after expenses on the Red Guard order,” Elara said. “Another twenty in the next few months if he comes back for seconds. And he will. Oh, and five hundred dollars from him personally.”
“Five hundred bucks? What the hell did he buy?”
Her eyes narrowed into slits. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“So we made sixty-seven thousand five hundred,” he said. “Not bad.”
“How do you figure that?”
“I bought two 50 Cal Gatling Guns from Rufus. Ten K each.”
She stared at him, stunned.
He braced himself. “We need the guns, Elara.”
“And you just made that decision without me?” Her voice was so sharp, he wanted to check himself for cuts.
“A 50 Cal GAU doesn’t sound like a firecracker. It sounds like a jackhammer, because it fires up to 2,000 rounds per minute. It’s belt-fed from the ammo box and it will turn a vampire into hamburger in less than two seconds.”
“Damn it, Hugh.”
“We’re both stronger during magic. The Gatling guns will guarantee that Nez doesn’t attack during tech.”
Johanna reached them and waved. Elara turned to her. “Yes?”
“Boy is awake,” Johanna signed.
Fear flickered across Elara’s face. She blurred and then she was at the tower door, thin tendrils of white magic snaking through the space she had just occupied.
There was something the boy knew she didn’t want Hugh to know. Hugh broke into a run. Ten seconds to the door, another twenty to clear the stairs. He burst into the hallway and sprinted to the room.
The door stood wide open. He heard Elara’s voice, soft yet insistent.
“… never do it again. I understand why you did. I’m not upset with you. But you must promise me to never do it again.”
“I promise,” a young male voice answered.
He’d missed it. Damn it.
Hugh walked through the doorway. The kid lay in bed, still pale from the loss of blood. He let his magic slide over the boy’s body. The vitals looked good, though, for how complicated the patch job was. Elara sat on the edge of his bed. She glanced up at Hugh’s approach.
“You’re making eyes at my wife?” Hugh asked.
The kid went a shade paler. “No, sir.”
“Hugh!” Elara turned to the boy. “He’s joking.”
“Tell me about the village, Alex,” Hugh said.
He heard quiet footsteps in the hallway. Deidre. The footsteps stopped.
Alex licked his lips. “Deidre likes the forest. She goes off sometimes and doesn’t come back for a while. We heard dire wolves howling, so when it started getting dark and she wasn’t back, Phillip, her dad, asked me to go look for her. I’m better with the woods than he is. I don’t get lost.”
“Does she usually stay out past sunset?” Elara asked.
“No. She always comes back before dinner, but this time she didn’t, so everyone was worried. It took me awhile, but I found her. We were heading back, but…”
He fell silent.
“Take your time,” Elara told him.
“Deidre didn’t want to go back. She kept stopping. I just had a feeling that something wasn’t quite right. Every step I took toward the village it was like a big hand I couldn’t see was pushing me back. So, I told Deidre to wait and climbed a tree to try and see anything.” He swallowed. “There were soldiers and monsters in the village. Killing everyone. They pulled them out of the houses, and killed them right there on the street, and laid them out like cordwood. Like they weren’t even people. They killed kids. Little kids. They took Maureen’s baby and slit her throat.”
He stopped and looked at them.
It confirmed what they already had known.
“What happened next?” Elara asked.
His voice shook slightly. “I told Deidre to climb the tree and stay there, and then I circled to the north, because the wind was blowing from the south. I had my bow with me.”
“What was the plan?” Hugh asked.
“I wanted to get Courtney out,” he said. “She’s my girlfriend. I was climbing over the wall when a monster saw me. I shot it and it died.”
“Where did you shoot it?” Hugh asked.
“Through the eye,” Alex said.
“He’s a very good marksman,” Elara told him softly.
“It was a lucky shot. As soon as it went down, one of the soldiers blew a horn. They couldn’t see us, but somehow they knew it was dead. So I ran. I didn’t try to go and get Courtney. I just ran. Deidre was waiting for me, and then we ran together. They shot at us through the woods. I got hit twice, and then I don’t remember it that well. I just kept running.”
His voice faded.
“You saved Deidre,” Elara said. “You survived.”
Alex looked at her. “I ran,” he said. “I left Courtney to die.”
“No,” Elara said. “You did everything you could.”
“I ran like a coward.”
He had to fix this or they would lose a steady pair of hands with a bow. The kid didn’t need forgiveness. He needed direction and purpose.
“You’ve got two days,” Hugh said.
The kid’s gaze snapped to him.
“In two days I need you up and moving. Once you’re up, go to the barracks and find Yvonne Faure. She will evaluate your archery skills. If you do well enough, you’ll be given a bow and assigned to the auxiliaries. For every bastard you shoot down, another Courtney will live.”
He turned and walked out. Elara followed him.
Deidre sat on the stone floor in the hallway, her back to the wall, her arms locked around her knees. She looked up at him. “I want a bow.”
Elara crouched by her. “What about your aunt and uncle?”
Deidre shook her head. “I don’t want to go with them. I want to stay here.”
“But they are your family.”
“I don’t know them. I want to stay here. It’s safe here. Can you make them let me stay?”
“We will ask.” Elara sighed. “But they are not here now, so let’s worry about this later.”
“Do I still get a bow?”
“Why do you want one?” Elara asked.
“So I can kill the monsters if they come here.”
“A bow can be arranged,” Hugh said.
“Have you ever shot a bow?�
�� Elara asked.
“No.”
“Don’t worry. Hugh will teach you. But if you decide that the bow isn’t for you, come and see me. I may teach you some things as well.”
“Go downstairs and wait for me,” Hugh said. “We’ll see about getting you a bow.”
The child jumped to her feet and dashed down the hallway. He watched her go. There was something disturbingly familiar about the look in her eyes, like a small feral animal backed into a corner. Rene used to look like that.
“We have no legal standing,” Elara said. “We can’t keep her.”
“We can bargain,” Hugh said.
She eyed him. “Do you actually care, Preceptor?”
“Don’t know the meaning of the word,” he said.
Hugh leaned against the step leading from the upper bailey to the keep and watched Stoyan stab the armor on a wooden mannequin. Or rather he watched Stoyan try. The centurion executed another beautiful slash. The blade glanced off the breastplate. The two Iron Dogs who were Stoyan’s second and third watched him.
Lamar leaned next to Hugh.
“Have you gotten anywhere with the Remaining?” Hugh asked him quietly.
“Nope. Nobody is talking.” Lamar shrugged his wide shoulders. “Everything is great, everyone is friendly and welcoming. The minute we try to ask any leading questions, they clam up.” He shifted on his feet. “You ever get a feeling we stumbled into a cult? Because I do.”
“As long as they keep us fed and clothed, I can deal with a cult.”
Stoyan stabbed the armor, putting all of his weight behind it. The point of the sword penetrated. He leaned forward, examined the nick, and spat.
“What about Elara?” Hugh asked. “Anything on her?”
“No.”
“There are thousands of people in that village. You’re telling me none of them have anything to say about her?”
Lamar shook his head.
Stoyan attacked the armor’s side, aiming at the armpit.
“Look on the bright side,” Lamar said. “They aren’t having much luck figuring out what’s in our barrels either.”
“Did they ask?”
“They did.”
Hugh grinned. Clever girl.
Stoyan moved back, resting his sword on his shoulder, and critically examined the armor.