Page 393 of Warlords, Witches & Wolves

Mother bit back a smile, but no one else dared to laugh.

Tobias looked uncomfortable. "Since the avalanche took both his brothers, he won't go anywhere near the goats. He's terrified of them – has been since he was little, and one of them butted him so hard, he couldn't sit for a week."

Now it was Rossa's turn to smile. The boy had been taunting the goats, and she might have given the goat's horns a little magical help.

"You should have sent Bruno off to become a knight," Rossa said. In her father's stories, all knights deserved to be turned into slugs. Though he'd exacted a more permanent kind of justice on them, as was fitting for a man of his talents.

"He's a little old to be a pageboy, yet too young to be a squire. Maybe…" Mother said, staring at Father. "Would you know a knight who would train him?"

Father looked thoughtful. "Several, actually, but I think he'd do best with the Baron of Maraschal. He owes me a favour for returning one of his breeding mares, among other things."

Rossa opened her mouth to ask for the tale, but her mother pointed at Tobias's two young daughters, and shook her head. Rossa shut her mouth with a snap, and resolved to ask him later.

"What sort of man is the Baron?" Tobias asked.

Father shrugged. "The Baron I knew is likely dead and buried by now, and one of his sons has taken his place. They were all honourable men, riding all over their family lands to settle disputes and see that their people were well defended. Their money comes from the exquisite horses they breed, local stock mixed with horses one of their ancestors brought back from the very first crusade, though they have some contacts in the Holy Land still. His daughter…why, I see her like in Rossa here. Young Melisende joined a crusade herself once, and held her own in battle, but she was a trained healer when she was at home, seeing to the health of all her father's people." Father grinned. "All the family work hard, especially when it comes to the horses. Bruno will learn to behave as a proper young baron should, or he'll spend his days shovelling horse shit."

Tobias didn't look convinced, but Silvana nodded sharply. "Will you write a letter to the Baron, please, Master Zoticus? The sooner we send Bruno to train, the better."

Father inclined his head. "You shall have it by morning, as long as Sara remembered to buy more ink from the traders today."

"Of course I remembered. I'm not so old that I would forget to visit any traders who come so far up the river. They would not let me forget, either – you spend more coin than the rest of the town combined." Mother sucked in a breath. "Oh, I almost forgot. A message came for you, too. I didn't dare break the seal on the scroll."

A frown crossed Father's face, before serenity reigned there again. "I'll read it after dinner. Whatever they want can wait."

Mother looked like she wanted to argue, but she stayed silent. Whoever's emblem she'd seen on the seal must be important. A king, an emperor…or perhaps the Pope? Father travelled less and less now, but he still took on some assignments. He might have more white hair than brown, but he was still a formidable fighter any man would fear.

One day, she'd be good enough to go with him. But if she asked today, she knew what the answer would be. He no longer said a simple, "No," anymore – he'd ask her if she thought she was ready to be an assassin, to take someone's life while keeping a firm hand on her own, yet to do it so subtly, so carefully, that no one but she would know she had done the deed.

If it weren't for that thieving squirrel…

Rossa sighed. One day. But not today, or tomorrow, either.

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