Something Maddy sometimes found bloody hard to believe.
“She was very clear,” Lillian added.
“Yes! She wants me back at the monastery, and that’s where I’m going. She’s always seemed like a caring person to me. I doubt she’ll begrudge me a little side trip to take Emmey home. You’re the one who’d like us to dump Emmey with strangers in Garryglen and forget she ever existed.” With the air so heavy between them, Maddy didn’t want to sit next to Lillian. She sank into the chair near the fire, well away from the bed, and glared at her. “Emmey isn’t some random child I took pity on. We shared a cell, a wretched existence, for months. She kept me sane. And I care very much about her. I know you can’t stand her, but I’d hoped that you’d help me take her home because you care about me.”
“Well, that’s hardly fair, is it, framing it like that? Doing what you want means I care about you and not doing what you want means I don’t. Am I supposed to help you jump off a cliff, too?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Lillian folded her arms. “Then what did you mean?”
“That you’d want to support me in this because you understand how important it is to me. I’m not asking you to do anything unreasonable.”
“But I don’t understand it. How can I? I wasn’t in that prison cell with you.” Lillian heaved a sigh. “And I don’t hate Emmey. I’m not comfortable around children. I don’t know what to say to her—not that I’d be able to get a word in edgewise. She never shuts up. And she’s always jumping around and asking questions. I don’t know how you stand it.”
Maddy’s shoulders relaxed as the tension drained away. “She’s a child, Lillian. She has lots of energy. She’s curious. And bright. I see you in her.” She stifled a laugh at Lillian’s horrified face. “Perhaps you should try talking to her. Whenever she talks to you, you dismiss her.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do. You give her one-word answers, and usually while looking like a sourpuss.”
“She can’t be that bright, because she doesn’t seem to get the message,” Lillian muttered.
“Or perhaps she keeps trying because she understands that you’re special to me,” Maddy said, trying not to sound reproachful.
“I don’t see how. Since she’s arrived, we’ve barely spent any time together. It’s, ‘Emmey, let’s go to the market. Emmey, let’s practice our letters. Emmey, let’s hang the wash. Emmey, let’s go see the horses.’”
Was that what it was about? Jealousy? Maddy bit back remarks meant to tease; they’d only add oil to the fire. Plus, she’d erred. She’d assumed that Lillian knew she was welcome to join her and Emmey in all their activities. But despite her blustering, Lillian was shy, and her discomfort around children only worsened the situation. Expecting her to take the initiative with Emmey had been a mistake. Lillian wouldn’t participate unless invited, and conversing with Emmey might be easier if they were busy, not staring at each other. Maddy wanted Lillian’s support, but realized she hadn’t been supporting Lillian. “I’m sorry. I know I’m spending a lot of time with her, but I won’t be with her for long. You and I . . .” Should she say it? We have the rest of our lives together. She chickened out. “I want to spend time with you, as well as Emmey. Next time we practice our letters, would you help us? It will be more fun if you come up with what we should write.”
“I suppose I could,” Lillian mumbled.
“And will you think about taking Emmey home? You don’t have to decide until we’re ready to leave Garryglen. I assume we’ll stop overnight there.”
“Barnabus won’t like it.”
Maddy sensed victory, but didn’t let on. “Well, you think about it. And I am sorry I’ve been neglecting you. I didn’t mean to.” When Lillian’s face softened, Maddy abandoned the chair to join her on the bed, making sure to sit to her right so she could pat Lillian’s leg. “This probably isn’t the best time to bring this up, but Emmey has to ride with you to Garryglen.”
“Barnabus already mentioned it to me.”
She silently thanked Barnabus. “I know I’ve been practising on the mare and can ride on my own, but I’m not confident enough to have Emmey ride with me.” She almost said, Perhaps when we leave Garryglen, but stopped herself in time. “I’ve had a good talk with her, so she knows to behave and not to talk your ear off. No throwing her off Baxter along the way.”
Lillian’s eyes narrowed. “It would be too easy for you to find her. If I wanted to get rid of her, I’d be much sneakier about it.”
Maddy rested her head on Lillian’s shoulder. “I know you would. And I know you wouldn’t.”
“No, I wouldn’t. She might drive me around the bend, but I’d never leave her to fend for herself.”
Nor would Lillian hire men to take her home. She just hadn’t admitted that to herself yet, but she would. Maddy was sure of it.
*****
Lillian waved to Maddy and Emmey, surprised to see them waiting outside the inn. Since arriving in Garryglen the previous afternoon, Maddy had refused to leave their rented room. “Sorry we took so long,” Lillian said.
Maddy shielded her eyes and looked past Lillian. “That’s not ours.”
Leading a chestnut horse, Barnabus stepped to Lillian’s side. “No, it isn’t.”
“Bastard didn’t have them,” Lillian said. “They were long gone from the inn by the time he sent men to retrieve your belongings. Bloody savages must have made off with what they could the moment you and Jonathan were taken from the inn.”
“It’s fortunate I hadn’t brought any sentimental items with me,” Maddy said as Emmey reached up to stroke the chestnut’s nose.
“He very generously compensated us for them,” Barnabus said.
Lillian snorted. “After we’d told him he’d condemned a sister to life in prison and that she’s now maimed as a result? He was practically throwing coin at us. The bastard’s lucky you didn’t want him harmed.”
Maddy shook her head. “It wouldn’t have accomplished anything. I want to leave it behind, get on with my life.”
“I know.” If not for Maddy’s wishes, the useless bastard’s life would have ended today, and no funeral pyre would have been lit for him. They would have swept him up from the floor. “And now you can. Barnabus has a pardon and an apology in his bag.”
“Did he give you the horse, too?”
“We traded for him,” Barnabus said. “He’ll make a fine Salbine horse, but unfortunately he isn’t one now. He could throw the sister if you draw, Mistress.”
“Yes, well.” Lillian pointed to her left. “Maddy, we passed a street vendor, two corners down. He has jellies. Why don’t you take Emmey and see if she wants anything?”
Maddy gave Lillian a suspicious look. “You want me to take Emmey—”
“I’d like a word with Barnabus. Alone.”
“Oh. I see. Emmey, let’s go see this vendor.”
Emmey’s face lit up. “Can I have a jelly, Miss?”
Maddy took Emmey’s hand. “You certainly can. I might have one too.” She met Lillian’s eyes before heading for the vendor.
When they were out of earshot, Lillian shifted position so she could keep her eye on Maddy while talking to Barnabus. “I’d like you to ride this horse and let Maddy ride Griffin.”
“I don’t see how that will help. I’m not immune to injury.”
“No, but you won’t be with us, so you won’t have to worry about me drawing.”
Barnabus’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean, Mistress?”
“I’m going with Maddy to take Emmey home.”
His face clouded. “The abbess was clear. I thought we’d hire men.”
“Maddy doesn’t want that, and she already has too much to worry about without also worrying about the girl. I know we’ll be disobeying the abbess, so I’m sending you back to Merrin now. I’ve prepared a letter for her that explains what we’re doing and that we won’t be long.”
“You want me
to carry this letter to the abbess,” Barnabus stated flatly.
Lillian nodded.
He blew out some air. “I’ll go with you, and face the abbess’s wrath later.”
“No. The abbess sent you with me so you could,” Lillian waved her hand around, “negotiate on our behalf. Maddy can do that. She’s good with folk. And we’ve accomplished what we set out to do. There’s no need for you to remain with us and earn the abbess’s displeasure.” Lillian watched him ponder his path, hoping he’d agree to return to the monastery. Everything she’d said was the truth, but she’d left out one detail: that she wanted to travel with Maddy alone, wanted private time with her before they reached the monastery.
Since leaving the prison, their conversations had rarely gone beyond trivialities and Emmey. It was next to impossible to have a private conversation with Barnabus and Emmey around, and Maddy was usually worn out by the time she came to bed. After they’d returned Emmey to her ma, it would be just the two of them. Lillian yearned to know how Maddy was feeling and how she’d reached the conclusion that her place was in the Order, considering her uncertainty when she’d left Merrin. Perhaps she was selfish, but Lillian wanted Maddy to herself before their former lives at the monastery swallowed them up again.
“I suppose the abbess will start to worry if we don’t return soon, though we could send her a message,” Barnabus said.
“Or you can simply carry one.”
Barnabus still seemed unsure. He stroked his beard. “I suppose you have a point when you say we’ve completed our task. I believe the abbess mainly sent me to negotiate for the sister’s freedom, if she lived.”
“If we’d needed to go to that bastard to get her out of prison, I assure you the negotiations would have been very short,” Lillian said through clenched teeth. “He would either have immediately signed documents for her release, or whoever took over after his death would have.”
Barnabus couldn’t keep the amusement out of his face. “I can’t say I would have disapproved, Mistress, though I would have advised restraint.”
Lillian grunted.
“If I return to Merrin and you and the sister meet misfortune, the abbess will never forgive me.”
“You know I can handle any trouble, and would be the one to do so, even if you’re with us.” The primary role of defenders was to protect the mages as they drew. They also stepped in if the mages tired, though the latter would only occur during lengthy battles—the sort waged during war, not with bandits along country roads.
“You could be injured.” The second reason defenders would step in. Again, important during war, not important when dealing with a group of ruffians Lillian could take down in seconds.
“You know that’s highly unlikely, Barnabus. The abbess didn’t send you to protect me. She sent you to speak for me.”
He surrendered. “Very well. We’ll pack the horses after lunch and go our separate ways. We could ride together until Leaton, but you’ll reach Pinewood sooner if you take the eastern route.”
“Yes, we’ll do that.”
Barnabus tipped his head toward the horse. “I’ll take him to the stables.”
Lillian nodded and walked toward the vendor’s stall she’d suggested to Maddy. She met Maddy and Emmey strolling toward her, devouring a couple of jellies. “You’ll have to wash,” Maddy was saying to Emmey. “I think most of yours is on your hands and face! Oh look, here’s Lillian.” She searched Lillian’s face. “Everything all right?”
“Barnabus and I were just discussing what time to leave. We’ll ride after lunch.”
“We’re not staying to visit the guilds?” Maddy said slowly.
“No. He’s heading back to the monastery to let the abbess know that we’re taking Emmey home. We’ll head for Pinewood.”
Lillian’s legs felt like jellies when Maddy beamed at her and murmured, “Thank you.” It was a good thing Pinewood was in the general direction of home. Lillian would have followed Maddy to the other end of the world, to see that smile.
Chapter Seventeen
Lillian pointed to her left and shouted over her shoulder, “Lake. Down there.” They were all badly in need of a wash. She slowed Baxter to a walk and waited for Maddy to draw even with her. “And under those trees looks inviting.”
“I see a stream,” Emmey said, twisting around to face Maddy.
Maddy smiled at her. “The horses will like that.” She turned to Lillian. “We still have a few more hours of light, but let’s stop anyway. I feel as if I have dust underneath my eyelids, and I wouldn’t mind a relaxing evening around a fire.”
Lillian agreed. Since leaving Garryglen, they’d ridden until last light most days, often laying out their rolls and tumbling into them right after a late supper. They weren’t in a hurry to reach Pinewood—at least Maddy wasn’t—and they weren’t pushing the horses too hard; they trotted more often than not. But the monastery beckoned. Neither of them wanted to test Sophia’s patience by meandering back to Merrin. “All right. We’ll lay our heads here tonight.” They rode to the trees and dismounted.
“Why don’t you two go wash up?” Maddy said.
“We can go together.”
As Lillian expected, Maddy shook her head. “No, you go ahead. I want to pray.”
“Do you need a fire, Miss?”
“Not yet, no. And put shoes on, Emmey. It looks like you’ll have to go down a rocky path.” Maddy frowned when Emmey groaned, “I know you hate wearing shoes, but you’d hate cutting your feet even more.”
“I suppose so,” Emmey grumbled.
Lillian pulled her robe from one of Ticky’s bags, preferring it to her travel clothes if they were going to lounge around for hours. “We won’t be long,” she said to Maddy. “Come on, Emmey.”
“What are you doing?” Emmey asked when Lillian stopped at the top of the slope above the lake, turned back to the camp, and drew air to shield Maddy.
“Nothing.” When she turned to face the lake, her foot sent a stone skittering down the slope. “It looks like Maddy was right. Be careful.” She tucked her robe under her arm and didn’t protest when Emmey grabbed her hand.
“Why won’t the Miss ever come with us?” Emmey asked as they carefully made their way down the path. “She always says no.”
“I think she’s shy about her arm.”
“But we’ve seen it!”
Not when Maddy was naked. She rarely allowed Lillian to see her in her shift, let alone naked. Lillian hadn’t seen her naked since their last morning at the prison.
Emmey frowned up at Lillian. “She’s being silly.”
“No, she isn’t, and don’t you dare say that to her. She just needs time to—” Emmey’s feet went out from under her. Lillian pulled her up before her arse hit the ground. The soap Emmey had been carrying rolled down the slope and plopped into the water. “Oh dear,” Lillian murmured.
“We’ll find it,” Emmey said, nonplussed.
Lillian tightened her grip on Emmey’s hand. “Right, let’s watch where we’re going, shall we? We’re almost there.”
They undressed at the bottom of the slope and left their clothes on a large flat rock beside the path. Lillian waded in first and hugged herself. “It’s a bit chilly.” And deeper than she’d expected, so close to land. “Walk slowly to me, Emmey.”
By the time Emmey reached Lillian’s side, the water was up to her chin. Lillian nudged her back toward the path, until the water was about chest-level. “You’ll have to bathe here. Don’t come in any farther.”
Her heart leaped into her mouth when Emmey suddenly plunged beneath the water. “Emmey?” She was about to hold her nose and go under when Emmey burst from the lake and triumphantly held up the soap. “Do you think you can warn me next time?” Lillian snapped, her heart pounding.
“I can swim!”
“Famous last words, my dear.”
Emmey’s brow furrowed.
“Why don’t you wash up while I go for a paddle?”
“
Will you do my back?”
“You’re old enough to do your own back.”
“Aw . . . please?”
“No. And don’t swim after me. Stay where your head’s above water.” Lillian turned away and shook her head. Maddy indulged the child too much.
The water felt pleasant now. She leisurely swam in circles, pleased that the lake naturally confined Emmey to the area near the path. Every so often she glanced Emmey’s way, to make sure she was all right. Maddy would never forgive her if something happened to the child. When Emmey beckoned to her, Lillian groaned and swam over.
“I’m finished.” Emmey handed her the soap. “Do you want me to do your back?”
“No, I don’t. The last thing I need is your grubby little hands all over my back.”
“They’re clean!” Emmey shrieked.
Lillian ignored her and waded away.
“I’m getting out,” Emmey called after her.
“Fine, but don’t leave without me.” As she washed her arms, Lillian checked to see if Emmey had obeyed her. Emmey was sitting next to their clothes on the rock, letting the sun dry her skin. Good. But how would she keep Emmey busy while Maddy was bathing? Have her water the horses, perhaps, or collect twigs for a fire?
She washed her chest, then glanced Emmey’s way again. The rock was empty! Emmey was climbing the slope—with Lillian’s clothes! That little rascal! Lillian effortlessly did what most mages could only dream of doing: despite already maintaining an air shield, she drew another element and then transformed it. Water gushed from the top of the slope. Emmey turned around and started to head back down. Suddenly the water froze. Her feet slipped from under her. She slid down the path on her behind and fell into the lake with a splash. There, that will teach her! Lillian regretted that her clothes had also gone under, but no matter. She held her nose and dunked underwater to wet her hair. “You’d better find all my clothes,” she shouted when she could breathe again.
No response.
Annoyed, she twisted toward the slope to shout again. Emmey wasn’t there! She hadn’t surfaced! Adrenaline coursed through Lillian. Blast it, bloody blast it! “Emmey!” She dropped the soap, raced to where Emmey had fallen into the lake, and was just about to dive under when Emmey leaped from the water with Lillian’s robe in her hand. “Ta-da!”
The Salbine Sisters Page 22
