Page 66 of Traitor Son

This by itself was sufficient to raise a number of questions.

Even as he watched, the blacksmith said something that made her eyes widen and she covered her mouth with one gloved hand, giggling. Where was the silent, solemn little owl he knew? She was smiling. Her eyes were so bright, so quick to see everything. Even veiled, hatted, and covered in white dust, he couldn’t help thinking her beautiful. She looked like nothing so much as the clearest and bluest of skies.

Until she turned and saw Remin.

Chapter 8 – The Growth of Trees

“No, it was her idea,” Miche said at the stable that evening, as they stood at the far end of the long aisle and watched the princess brush Master Eugene, who kept affectionately butting her with his head. “At first, she was just worried about getting the water to the lads on the south wall. But then she wondered whether the stream on the north wall dries up in summer, which apparently happens to the stream in Aldeburke. Next thing I know, she’s consulting with Guisse on the placement of wells, and then the day before the first one was due to be dug, she suddenly wondered whether or not someone else might have plans for that bit of dirt. She’d caught sight of Nore’s sticks on the east side of town.”

“And you gave her a donkey.”

“She was right.” Miche spread his hands helplessly. “I can’t argue with her math, Rem. On day two she was counting her footsteps and taking averages of how much ground she could cover on her own. She’s a smart girl.”

Remin knew that. He had sometimes glanced at the books she was reading on the way to Tresingale, everything from her favoriteThe Will Immanentto histories, poetry, plays, and one book that was more diagram than prose. But he had never expected her to startapplyingher intellect the minute his back was turned.

“Sort out the bandits?” Miche’s eyes twinkled, as if he were enjoying himself.

“We did. Supplied by a miller and his granddaughter, out of Ferrede. I’ll tell all of you the rest over supper.” At the end of the stable, the princesswas crooning as she brushed the donkey, her voice rising and falling musically as she assured him that he was the handsomest and cleverest and most darling creature alive.

As if the donkey understood a word of it. Remin folded his arms, scowling.

“You could go help her,” Miche suggested, following his eyes. “She’d be happy, Rem, if you just—”

“Any trouble while I was gone?”

Miche sighed. “Nothing major. Accident on the north wall, one fellow took a tumble and broke his arm. We’re trying not to tell the men to hurry. Hurried men make mistakes.”

It would be nice if they could accomplish as much in two weeks as a single princess apparently could. But for all Miche’s assurances, it was still hard to believe. Her greeting for Remin had been as timid as ever, accompanied with something that might have beenI’m glad you’re safe.And even then, she had looked as if she had expected to be scolded for saying so.

“I need to get washing water from the well,” she said when they reached their cottage, hanging up her hat and veil on a nail by the door. Her hair was almost gray with stone dust. But she paused, her fingers knotting together, and asked softly, “…do you like it?”

She clearly meant the cottage. And for some reason, he just couldn’t make himself say it.

“It was good of Edemir to spare the men for the extra work,” he said. “I hope you thanked him.”

“I did.” And she slipped back out the front door without meeting his eyes.

The thought of awkwardly not speaking to each other when she came back with the water did not appeal.

“I’ll fetch you for supper when it’s full dark,” he said when she returned, lugging a pair of full buckets, and departed without looking at her.

That was more or less his plan for the foreseeable future. But it was difficult when his own men persisted in bringing her to his attention. At supper, Edemir wanted to talk about the blasted wells, Juste had heard about the donkey and wanted to know how much weight he was hauling,and Miche teased her endlessly, albeit with a gentler version of his usual biting wit. All of it made Remin feel like he had been away for much longer than a few weeks.

“It turned out as well as it could have,” he said, when Miche inquired after the bandits. “I don’t think we’ll have any further problems with Ferrede, but we’ll need to send them some builders, Edemir. They had a couple stranglers crawling in their windows last year and I promised them a safe place to sleep. They’re cooperative, but we should send a few armored men along, just in case. And maybe one of the squires. Who do you reckon, Huber?”

“Rollon,” the quiet knight said, after a moment’s consideration. “Folk generally like him, and he’s ready for a small command.”

“We’ll make it eight men. That’s the other trouble.” The cookhouse was emptying by now, but Remin still spared a glance at the men nearby, who quickly found somewhere else to be. “I already mentioned it to some of you, but a man in Ferrede said he spotted a wolf demon. It’s early, but I don’t want to take any chances. We’ll have guards in the sleeping areas, braziers, and the new arrivals need to know what to watch for.”

“We’ll need to get the animals out of the field before nightfall, then,” said Juste. “I’ll go now. They’ve been leaving the sheep and goats out overnight in the near pens.”

“Any livestock missing?” Bram asked suddenly from the end of the long table, and Juste stopped.

“Yes,” he said slowly. “They told me today. A goat and one of the ewes.”

“It could be regular wolves,” said Remin into the silence, but none of them believed it. “Go on, Juste. And hurry back.”

“I guess we’re moving some men back to palisade building tomorrow, then,” Edemir said, resigned. “Blast it. We were just starting to get ahead on the wall. If the wolves are out, the others won’t be far behind. We’ll need to put some nursemaids on our more delicate masters, Rem. Some of them don’t have the sense to come in out of the rain. I wouldn’t like Sousten Didion to take it in his head to get a midnight view of Tresingale. Which he might do.”

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