Page 67 of Seducing the Sorcerer
“Don’t you see? We’ve won a round.” Morgrim patted Fenn’s knee. “Thanks to Fenn. And Squab. Now shut up. Because.”
Aramella shot a puzzled look at Fenn and a disbelieving one at Morgrim. But Morgrim’s cryptic remark clearly meant something to her.
“You mean you haven’t?” she said.
“I haven’t,” Morgrim said tightly.
“But I thought?”
“Yes. That. But not that.”
What in blazes were they talking about? Fenn looked from one to the other, all at sea.
“Oh. Gods. Morgrim. Oh Gods.” She ran a hand over her face in exasperation. “But you can, you know. In fact, you should. Especially now.”
“All right, all right. Maybe. Now will you shut up? Please?” Morgrim looked up at Fenn. “Aramella and I need to stay out here for a while, let everyone see I’m all right. You go on and give that horse all the upholstery it likes. Heaven knows, it deserves it. And maybe you could find Fang? She hides under the sideboard when she’s frightened, so I hope—All right? I’ll be in shortly.”
He didn’t wait for an answer. He turned to Aramella saying, “Come, let’s walk. Just not too fast or I’ll fall over. And stop looking so worried. No problems here. Everything’s fine. Smile. Got it?”
Fenn stared after their retreating backs. Morgrim had dismissed him. Nicely, but definitely. And Morgrim and Aramella had had one of those private conversations that people who know each other well can have, while still giving nothing away to Fenn.
So, even after Fenn had saved his life, there were things Morgrim didn’t want him to know.
Well.
Well, that was just grand, wasn’t it?
Fenn put his heels to Squab’s sides. For once, the portcullis was open. He rode through it into the rain. Across the courtyard, the tower door was open too. Knocked off its hinges, seemingly. Soldiers were everywhere. Some were collecting blocks of masonry from the centre of the courtyard and stacking them at the foot of the tower, some were on guard, and others seemed to be running around just for the fun of it.
Fenn ignored everyone and headed Squab towards the mews. The order of things that had to happen was very clear in his mind.
First, practical matters: see to Squab, find Jasper, find Fang, check Blaze.
Second: get rid of everybody except Morgrim.
Third: fuck Morgrim to within an inch of his life.
Lastly: ask Morgrim what in blazes was going on.
Good.
He reached the mews and dismounted, then changed his mind and led Squab to the stables instead. He didn’t want it interrupting him when he was involved in priority three, but all the same, shutting it away in the mews felt wrong. If something else attacked, he wanted it to be able to get to him.
In the stall, he gave Squab four worn-out pillowcases, an old apron and a dozen odd socks. He also gave it a rub down and a hug and whispered some complimentary things into one of its large, coarse, lily-shaped ears. Then he left it to its feast.
On his way to find Jasper, he called into the tack room for that bottle of linseed oil. Because that was thinking ahead and there’d be no time for anything as fancy as thinking later on. Not if he had anything to do with it. He put the bottle in his pocket.
He found Jasper hovering at the postern door. The boy seemed physically unharmed but was whey-faced and trembling. That needed tending to. Fenn went over to him.
“You all right, lad? Glad to see you upright.”
Something about Jasper’s pinched white face made Fenn open his arms. Somewhat to his surprise, Jasper walked into them and stood there, letting Fenn hug him.
“There, there,” Fenn said, patting his back. “What a to-do. That give you as bad a scare as it did me? Right give you the collywobbles, a thing like that, eh? But Morgrim’s all right, and I’m all right. And so are you now, eh?”
“Y—yes,” Jasper said, pulling back and wiping his eyes.
“Aye. ’Course you are. You’re grand. And my ugly old horse is stuffing its face with socks and reckoning all its birthdays have come at once. So, everything’s getting back to normal. Ain’t it?”
