Page 50 of Seducing the Sorcerer
No, he’d sleep tonight in the stall as usual. He’d wake up tomorrow and eat the breakfast that was given him and find out more about this place in the east. And then he’d go there, sensible-like. And remember to thank Morgrim properly for arranging it before he went. And if he felt dead inside, well, it wouldn’t be the first time and anyway it hardly mattered. Folks only took pain seriously when they were young and naïve and thought their feelings mattered. But a man could muck out a stable as well with a broken heart as with a whole one. Aye, and that was a fact.
He led the horse to the stall and lay down, but his head was full of Morgrim.
Morgrim laying the table, just so. Morgrim out riding, hair tangled on his shoulders, accepting Fenn’s instructions to “get them hands down a bit” or “get that leg back” with a nod of thanks. Morgrim accidentally letting bits of fish and chicken drop from his plate for the kitten, fooling nobody. Morgrim smiling at him across a candlelit table.
The hours passed, damp, gritty and miserable. Morgrim would be asleep by now. He wouldn’t be lying awake, fretting over Fenn. Like hell he would.
But what if he was? What if there was still a light on in the tower? What if Morgrim looked down through the rain and saw Fenn in the courtyard and what if somehow, something worked out?
But it wouldn’t. It would be daft to go and look for a light in the tower.
Aye, well, Fenn was daft.
He pulled a couple of old shirts from the rag-bag and gave them to the horse to keep it occupied.
Outside, the cloud had lifted a little and the rain had eased to a light drizzle. In the courtyard, the flames flickered in the cressets, but the tower rose dark above him. Not a glimmer of light came from any of the windows in the lower parts of the tower. Higher up, the cloud grew thick again. It was just possible that Morgrim was awake somewhere up there, but Fenn’s heart sank deeper. Because Morgrim wasn’t sitting up and pining over him. No, the man had gone to bed. Likely without a second thought.
But what was that?
Something moving, up near the library window.
Fenn’s heart leaped and contracted in a sick twist. It was Jasper. He had climbed out of the window, pushed it closed behind him. He was climbing down the outside of the tower. Fenn could see him, plain as day in the torchlight. Jasper’s feet were bare. He was using his toes to grip the rough wet stone.
Fenn drew breath to yell, realised the lad had no rope and if he got a fright he could slip and fall fifteen yards to the courtyard below. Fenn gritted his teeth instead. He watched, heart in his mouth, until Jasper made it safely to the ground. Then Fenn crept out of the shadow of the loggia and said, in Jasper’s ear, “Evening.”
Jasper’s knees buckled. He knelt in a puddle.
“Oh, God. Mr. Todd. It’s not what it looks like. I promise. I haven’t taken anything. I swear.” He displayed his empty hands and patted his pockets to show he had nothing in them. “Please don’t tell the master. Please.”
“On your feet, lad.”
“I can’t be sent away. Oh, please.” Jasper was nearly weeping. “Please don’t tell him. I’ll do anything. I’ll give you anything.”
“You and me. In the gatehouse. A talk.”
Fenn jerked his thumb and set off, Jasper following. In the light of the empty guardroom, Jasper was quivery and pale as a lump of junket. There were tears on his cheeks.
“Please don’t tell him I was in there,” Jasper begged again.
“What were you doing?”
“Reading. That’s all. I swear.”
“Could have killed yourself. Window’s fifteen yards up.” Fenn felt like shaking the lad. “What were you thinking?”
“He won’t let me in there. Doesn’t trust me. He says...” Jasper eyed Fenn sideways, a sly look that didn’t suit him. “He says I’m the wrong kind of person to learn magic.”
Fenn couldn’t imagine Morgrim saying such a thing, but he didn’t want to call the boy a liar to his face. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. But I want to learn. I have to. Don’t you see? I want to be like him.” Jasper paused, and added, “And you.”
“But sneaking in ain’t the answer, surely? Why won’t he teach you? Did something happen?”
“He doesn’t like me. But I have to learn magic. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, don’t you see? I’d do anything to learn. Anything.”
Fenn looked at the boy’s fierce, tear-stained face and sighed, leaning back on the solid wood table where the guards who’d once staffed this gatehouse had likely sat. He wasn’t up to coping with anyone else’s problems tonight. And while Jasper’s desperation seemed genuine, all the same, Fenn felt there was something Jasper wasn’t telling him. Perhaps this was all related to the strange atmosphere at the tower, that feeling Fenn couldn’t shake that something wasn’t quite right.
“You can’t go climbing up there again,” Fenn said. “Ain’t safe. I’ll be checking that window catch tomorrow and nailing the whole thing shut if I have to. Now, you want me to keep quiet? You promise me: you won’t try that again.”
