Book Read Free

Trading by Shroomlight

Page 6

by C. M. Simpson


  Rehema turned back. “You need to eat before you sleep.”

  The lady had a point, but Marsh was curious. “Why...” She stopped. It didn’t matter how she said it. It was going to come out rude.

  Rehema regarded her, frowning. “Why am I still here?” she asked.

  Marsh blushed red and nodded.

  Way to win friends and influence people, Roeglin snarked, but Rehema was unperturbed.

  “Every healer has a guardian. I was assigned to you.” She didn’t sound like she appreciated it.

  “Assigned?” Marsh asked just as Gustav hurried up.

  “Thank you,” he said, addressing Rehema and she gave him a serious look.

  “My duty is not yet done.”

  If those words weren’t a warning, Marsh didn’t know what was.

  Gustav sighed. “Nevertheless, thank you.”

  The woman dipped her head. “You are welcome. Now, come.”

  She doesn’t seem too pleased with me, Marsh commented.

  Took you long enough.

  What did I do?

  ”You did nothing,” Rehema replied, “and you are right. I am not too pleased with you. You should not have been on the battlefield, and you endangered our shield and spear.”

  Shield and spear?

  “The warriors who fought at your side.”

  “I did not lead them.”

  “No, but you followed, and your presence was a distraction.”

  Marsh felt a small surge of anger. “I saved their Deeps-be-damned lives!”

  Rehema sniffed as if that was a crime as well. “You need to be bathed before you eat.”

  Like the Deeps she did!

  “I can bathe myself! Your assistance is not required.”

  Rehema smirked. “It is my duty.”

  Marsh stopped dead and stepped away from Gustav’s hand. “Like the motherless Deeps, it is!”

  Rehema kept walking. “This way.”

  Marsh stamped her foot, and Roeglin gave a bark of laughter. I don’t believe you just did that!

  Shut it, Ro. I will deal with this. Gustav tucking her hand through his arm jolted her out of her head, and Marsh turned on him, too. “Shadow’s ass! What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Showing you to the washroom, apprentice.” Gustav’s tone was mild, but his use of her lower rank was a warning.

  Marsh frowned, but she let him accompany her after Rehema. Roeglin came and walked on her other side. Where Mordan usually walked... Marsh looked around. Where...

  She got the fleeting impression she smelled bad, then the kat was gone from her head. Roeglin snickered.

  “What?”

  “Kat has a point.”

  His words made Marsh aware of the way her tunic and breeches clung to her skin. Worse, they made her aware of the smell of blood and guts and...other things...rising around her.

  “How can you stand to walk this close?” she asked, glancing at Gustav.

  “It’s the only way I can get Aisha and Tamlin to wait for you in the dining hall.”

  Well, that gave her a reason to move her ass. Marsh quickened her pace, surprised when Rehema took her to one side of the cavern where the walls had been smoothed vertical. Stone pipes ran overhead, several smaller ones branching away from a single larger one.

  A broad expanse of stone covered the ground beneath the pipes and stretched out in front of it. It was already occupied. A dozen men and women moved across it, some stripping their sodden armor and clothing and others standing beneath the water flowing from the shorter lengths of pipe.

  At first, Marsh couldn’t understand how the warriors got the water to start and stop, and then she noticed the mages standing at either end of the pipes, their brows creased with focus.

  “Stand there,” Rehema ordered pointing to a space between two men.

  Marsh hesitated, and one of the men grinned.

  “We don’t bite,” one told her, and the other gave her a cheeky smile.

  “Not unless you ask us to.”

  Gustav coughed and uncurled her hand from his arm. “Go ahead,” he told her, fixing the pair of them with a stern stare. “I’m sure these two gentlemen won’t harm you.”

  Marsh went, mostly because she didn’t want to argue with Gustav when he used that tone of voice, and partly because Roeglin was laughing at her inside her head—and not because of what the two warriors had said.

  No, it was because Mordan thought that either of them would make a good mate, and what was Marsh’s problem? She was more than capable of putting the males in their place. That hadn’t stopped Marsh from blushing.

  Be careful, Marsh. You’re going to give those guys the wrong idea.

  Marsh rolled her eyes and stalked forward, doing her best to ignore everyone. That included Rehema, who was watching with a slight smirk on her face. It reminded Marsh that Roeglin wasn’t the only one who could dip into her head.

  Great.

  “Stand there,” one of the men said and pointed up. “Under that. Mage can’t get the water on you if you don’t.”

  Marsh looked up. Just in time to be hit with a torrent of water in the face. The two warriors laughed, high fiving each other over her head. Marsh ignored them, feeling the water wash the worst of the stickiness from her skin even as it cleaned bloody debris from her clothing.

  It was surprisingly warm.

  Just don’t stand there after they tell you to get out. Roeglin warned her, and she got the impression of ice.

  Noted.

  After a few heartbeats, she copied the movements of the soldiers around her, rubbing her hands over her clothing to remove the worst of what was clinging to it and untying her braid to run her fingers through her hair.

  “That’s enough,” Rehema ordered when she’d been standing there for a few moments. “Time for skin.”

  Given the soldiers either side of her had left the water and were stripping out of their soaked clothes, Marsh knew exactly what she meant. Swallowing any embarrassment, she stepped out from under the water and crossed to where Rehema waited beside an empty basket set on a stone table.

  “Put everything in here,” she commanded. “I’ll take care of it.”

  Marsh wanted to ask what she was going to wear but decided not to waste time. She didn’t think Rehema would tell her. The woman seemed to be enjoying her discomfort far too much. Rehema gave her a quick smile.

  You have no idea.

  Marsh wondered what she’d done to deserve that, but Rehema didn’t reply.

  Fill you in later, Roeglin told her, highlighting Rehema’s presence in her head.

  Marsh walked back to her place under the pipe, doing her best to ignore the bodies of the soldiers around her. They, for their part, kept their eyes on some distant point in the surrounding shrooms. Marsh closed hers.

  “You’ll need this.” The voice in front of her was new. Marsh opened her eyes to find a girl, fully clothed, holding out a small bag. “Rub it over your skin. It’ll help.”

  Puzzled, Marsh took it and hoped it wasn’t some kind of practical joke played on newcomers. A covert glance to either side showed her that it wasn’t. Both warriors were using similar bags, rubbing them over their skins and leaving a trail of bubbles behind.

  Oh. Blushing red to her hairline and trying hard to ignore Roeglin’s laughter, Marsh washed, glad when she was done and could step out from under the water. Around her, everyone else was doing the same, and Marsh was relieved to see they all seemed as fatigued as she felt.

  Even the two guys who’d greeted her were quiet. They all headed back to the tables, where their soiled clothing had been replaced by towels and clean garments.

  No armor, though, Marsh noted, slightly puzzled.

  “You’re not going back out to fight,” Rehema told her, her tone disapproving. “There are others who can take your place.”

  Marsh dried off and had started getting dressed when there was a disturbance at the edge of the stone.

  “You’re not
going anywhere.” Kwame’s voice was firm and Mordan growled in reply, but Kwame was not to be deterred. “Uh-huh. You need a wash.”

  Mordan growled again, and Marsh stopped.

  Kwame was standing to one side of the platform, his knees bent, and his arms spread wide as he faced off with Mordan. The kat could have gone past him at any time, but there were two more mages standing back from Kwame, their eyes lit by green fire and their attention focused solely on the hoshkat.

  Mordan crouched before them, her ears flat against her skull and her tail lashing angrily. Her gray-green fur was matted with blood. Marsh sighed and got undressed, picking up the bag she’d used to wash with.

  “Dan,” she called, and then again, louder. “Dan!”

  The kat whipped her head around, casting a swift look in her direction. Marsh walked back to the pipes. “Come on, girl. You need to set a good example for Perdemor and the pup.”

  Mordan looked around and found what Marsh had seen. Kit and pup were facing a pair of mages of their own, and neither looked happy. Perdemor copied his mother’s stance, but his heart didn’t seem in it, and Scruffknuckle pranced on the spot, his ears cocked forward and his tail waving.

  He looked like he was ready to play, even if his fur was just as dirty as Mordan’s.

  Mordan gave a disgusted rumble and then turned sulkily around, stalking over to Marsh. Marsh looked at the side, catching the eye of the mage standing there. Mordan followed her gaze and hissed.

  Marsh didn’t blame the guy for hesitating. “Best not to keep her waiting,” she told him. “The sooner we get this done, the better.”

  She turned to the kat. “Come on, Dan.”

  The kat flinched as the water hit her back, and Marsh was relieved when the water was warm. She didn’t know how Mordan would have reacted if it hadn’t been.

  They wouldn’t dare, Roeglin assured her. No one wants to deal with a pissed-off hoshkat.

  Marsh agreed, but she didn’t say anything, just focused on scrubbing the kat clean, massaging Mordan’s fur with her fingers as she rubbed the bubbles through it. The kat gave a contented rumble and looked at the kit and pup.

  Her short sharp yowl was a clear command. Scruffy and Perdemor glanced at her and Mordan laid her ears back, repeating the call. The two youngsters looked at her, glanced at the four mages, and slunk over. Neither looked impressed as the water fell around them.

  Marsh sighed. She focused on finishing cleaning Mordan and was preparing to move over to Perdemor when she realized she had company. Nude company, since the two warriors who had greeted her hadn’t seen the point in getting their dry clothes wet.

  Both crouched with their backs to her, scrubbing the kit and pup clean. Scruffknuckle had his eyes closed, and Perdemor looked like he was fighting not to do the same. Marsh wondered how the man had convinced the cub to get near him, let alone close enough to touch. Perdemor didn’t like strangers.

  Dan and I asked him very nicely not to shred the man, Roeglin replied. I was much nicer than Dan.

  The kat huffed out a sigh and stepped out from under the water. It stopped flowing as she did, and everyone watched as she walked over to the edge of the stone platform and stared at the mage controlling the water.

  Before they could work out what she was about to do the kat was shaking the water from her fur, showering everyone in range with a spray of fine droplets. Several of them jumped back, but not before she’d soaked them. Mordan surveyed her handiwork with a satisfied stare before turning her back on them.

  Raising her head and her tail, she walked over to the table holding a new pile of towels, flicking her hind paws as she went. Marsh put her hand on her hip. “When you’re quite done.”

  Mordan extended her forepaws in front of her and stretched, giving everyone behind her the perfect cat’s ass. Marsh just stared at her, her jaw hanging open. Beyond the stone, Gustav and Roeglin mirrored her expression, then the captain put one hand across his forehead and shook his head.

  “Always twice...” he muttered. “Everywhere. Twice.”

  Roeglin just looked at her. The examples you set.

  Marsh breathed a sigh of relief when Perdemor and Scruffknuckle didn’t repeat Mordan’s performance. She rubbed the kat dry and then picked up a fresh towel and dried herself all over again. Not far away, the two other warriors did the same. None of them looked at each other until they were dressed.

  “Merci,” Marsh said, and they both smiled, gazing fondly at where the kit and the pup were playing.

  “It was our honor.”

  Marsh didn’t know what to say to that, so she just nodded and hurried to where Gustav and Roeglin were waiting, all too aware of the color creeping into her cheeks. Rehema was waiting for her as well.

  “Now that that’s done,” she said reprovingly, turning around and leading them to breakfast.

  “This is where I leave you,” she told Marsh once she’d seen Marsh settled at a table.

  Tamlin and Aisha had come to sit on either side as soon as she’d taken her place and Roeglin, looking very put out had taken his seat opposite. Gustav had wandered off, plate in hand, to check on the others, and Marsh followed his progress, relieved to see them all there, and all in one piece.

  “What did he mean by ‘twice?’” she asked and Roeglin almost choked on his food.

  Marsh waited until he’d stopped sputtering, by which time Aisha was standing by his side and anxiously patting him on the back. “Well?”

  Roeglin cleared his throat. “He meant he had to take us everywhere twice. You know, once to do whatever it was we were supposed to be doing and then a second time to apologize.”

  “And by ‘we,’” Tamlin told her, “he means you.”

  “Thanks, kid.”

  7

  Culture Clash

  “How are you feeling?” Roeglin asked when they’d finished eating.

  Marsh froze. The shadow mage had a point. How was she feeling, because she’d done a lot? After a moment’s self-assessment, she nodded. “Okay. A little tired, but okay.”

  Rehema appeared at her side like an unwelcome ghost. “You’re supposed to be resting.”

  Gustav came to a stop at the end of a table. Talk about your ghosts. Master Envermet wasn’t the only one who needed bells.

  Or you’re more tired than you think, Roeglin suggested, and Marsh resisted the urge to stick out her tongue.

  “She can rest after we’ve spoken with the Council.”

  Marsh frowned. This was the first time she’d heard Sulema and her leadership called that.

  You’re still catching up.

  As if she needed to be told. Thanks, Ro.

  You’re very welcome.

  As if she cared. Marsh looked at Gustav, but he was busy staring at Rehema. “She is mine,” he stated as if that solved everything, “and mine to command.”

  Well, that pretty much did solve it.

  Rehema obviously thought so too. “I place her in your care then,” she replied, her tone revealing exactly what she thought of that. She turned and stalked away, clearly unhappy.

  Gustav watched her go, then surveyed the table. His gaze fell on the children and he opened his mouth, but Tamlin was ahead of him. “Yeah, we know. We have lessons with Master Petitfeau.”

  “Yeah, already dere,” Aisha echoed, narrowing her eyes and glaring at Gustav with angry defiance.

  Before she could start anything, Tamlin took hold of her arm and lifted her into his arms. “Come on, Aysh. I’m sure Captain Moldrane will give us some time with our guardian soon.”

  And if that wasn’t an instruction rather than a request, Marsh didn’t know what was.

  Gustav watched them go, eyebrows raised. He caught Marsh’s look. “What? The boy was right, and Brigitte was waiting.”

  Marsh watched them go, her heart aching. She hoped the shadow mage had something fun planned...or challenging. Either would do.

  “They’re working with some of the local mages today,” Roeglin told her,
clearing his plate. Marsh did the same as he continued. “Brigitte thinks Aisha can learn something new.”

  Gustav snorted. “As if that little scamp needs to know anything new,” he said. “She knows more than enough as it is.”

  Marsh thought the captain might have a point, but she didn’t want to say so. Besides...

  “If she’s not learning something new,” she told him, “she’ll be out causing mischief with Scruffknuckle and Perdemor, and we don’t want that, do we?”

  Gustav’s eyes went wide at the thought. “No, we do not.” He changed the subject. “Bring your kaffee...chocolate. The Elders are waiting.”

  Marsh wondered why they were called that. Neither Sulema nor Tabia had looked at all old.

  Appearances can be deceiving.

  Before she could ask Roeglin what he meant, Gustav was threading his way between tables to a door in the back wall. Marsh noticed it was on the opposite side to the kitchen entrance and hurried after him, taking a shroom pastry from the serving table as she passed.

  “Where’s Mordan?” she asked, and Roeglin looped his arm through hers.

  “She’s sulking,” he replied. “I got the impression that baths were undignified and she wasn’t talking to you anymore.”

  Marsh tried to pull her arm free but he guided her through the door, bursting into laughter as he hit the other side. Marsh caught the impression of Mordan tearing into a haunch of meat and shoved him—hard.

  “Not nice.”

  Gustav looked back at them and rolled his eyes. “When you’re both quite done.”

  They sobered immediately, clearing their throats and looking at the table. There were empty seats waiting. Gustav took one, and Marsh and Roeglin came to sit beside him. Once they were settled, Sulema got straight to the point.

  First, she turned to Marsh. “Thank you for your aid this morning. We’d have lost three good warriors if you had not.”

  “More,” Kwame corrected. “The lightning prevented more deaths. The three Sulema speaks of would have taxed our best, and they were already taxed from the previous battle.”

  He didn’t say which previous battle and Marsh hoped he wasn’t referring to the assassin’s attempt on her life.

 

‹ Prev