by Colt, K. J.
I was. We ate breakfast and I took up my books, being ill had provided me with more time to read, and I decided it would be foolish to waste it. Penny got dressed and went to see Rose again; more preparation for the ball. I really hated that I would miss it, but at least Penny wouldn’t have to suffer through my imitation of dancing. There would be more balls though, and maybe I could get some lessons before I had to expose my limited dancing skills to Penny. Ariadne had offered to teach me in the past so I thought I might take her up on it, but that would be for another time.
The day went smoothly, but after lunch my fever came back. Penny returned and made sure I didn’t have too much in the way of covers. She obviously didn’t believe in ‘sweating’ out a fever. At least she didn’t try to bleed me, so I probably shouldn’t complain about feeling a bit cold. A long nap made the afternoon more pleasant.
Around six Penny started getting ready. She was kind enough to let me watch, so I kept my lurid fantasies to myself while she dressed. The dress was stunning when combined with her curves and graceful features. I couldn’t help but wonder how I had lured such an enchanting beauty into my bedroom. My careful gaze caught her strapping something odd to her left arm.
“What’s that?” I asked wide-eyed.
“A dagger sheath,” she answered, as if it were the most common thing in the world. She finished adjusting the straps and slid a deadly looking seven inches of steel into it.
“Are we expecting trouble, or should I be concerned for when you return later?” I half-joked.
“Rose has been most helpful educating me on the matter of protecting myself. After this past week, I am no longer so trusting as I once was. Plus I have an excellent man to keep myself unspoiled for...” she gave me a charming smile, batting her long lashes at me. That should have warned me, her most frequent use of feminine wiles seemed to be distracting me from important issues.
“I thought I spoiled you quite thoroughly last night,” I leered at her.
“There is always more spoiling to be done,” she answered, and then she leaned over and gave me a long kiss. “I have to get going. I’ll need Rose’s help to get my hair done up properly.” She stopped at the door and gave me a long look, “Don’t forget, I love you.” Then she was gone, but for a second I could have sworn I saw a tear in her eye.
I convinced myself it was my imagination, but it took me a long while to get back to my reading. Women are never simple. I however, am as simple as they come.
Penny found Rose in her apartments, still getting ready, “Shouldn’t we be hurrying more?” she asked.
“It won’t hurt them to wait a few minutes. Besides, the best arrive last.” Rose laughed. She finished what she was doing and began working on Penny’s hair. With sure hands, she worked it into a delicate braided design piled on top of her head, exposing the younger woman’s graceful neck. “You’re going to garner a lot of looks tonight.”
“None that I’m anxious for, but I suppose a little attention will be nice,” Penny answered.
“Enjoy it while it lasts, we won’t be young the rest of our lives,” Rose remarked.
You might not, but I probably will be, Penny thought to herself. The two women rose and headed downstairs. The ball was already beginning.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The Ball
Few objects of magic still exist. They have become as rare as the men who create them, and those who remain rarely gain the knowledge necessary for their creation. From my research I have ascertained that the process is similar in function to the way in which mages create their spells. Aythar is manipulated, but rather than using words, a greater part is played by symbols and written language. Most who are born to magic eventually try to bind power within an object, but few succeed. The art of sealing power in such a way that it remains forever bound is lost. For this reason, the only magical objects found today are wards, symbols drawn with power for a specific purpose. Yet these lose their strength within a span of decades unless they are regularly renewed.
~Marcus the Heretic,
On the Nature of Faith and Magic
THE GREAT HALL HAD BEEN transformed. The great trestle tables had been removed, replaced by a few long tables along the walls where refreshments were being served. A small scattering of tables and chairs provided a place for the dancers to rest, but their numbers were small enough to discourage people from spending too much time there. It was a dance after all, and the night would be wasted if too many spent their time lounging instead. The Duke’s musicians occupied one end of the hall, playing endlessly to provide the music needed for a successful ball.
Penny and Rose were announced as they entered, “Lady Rose Hightower and her companion, Penelope Cooper.” That earned Penny a few stares, especially from the servers. Most of the staff knew her, and although they had heard she had taken up with Mordecai, they were still unsure what that meant for her status. Arriving with Rose made it clear that she was headed up in the world.
Marcus spotted them and came over, walking slowly to avoid outpacing his sister, Ariadne. He was escorting her for the evening, although they would both be dancing with different partners before long. His sister was a picture of loveliness in a fanciful pink gown. Ariadne was only fourteen and had yet to fill out completely, but Penny was sure she would be a great beauty someday.
“Penny! I see you ditched that clumsy oaf and replaced him with someone better looking!” he gave a small bow in Rose’s direction.
Rose gave a light tinkling laugh, “Yes, she’s seen fit to find better company this evening.” Penny couldn’t help but wonder how Rose managed it, even her laugh was perfect. Marcus asked Rose if he could have a dance and they were on the floor a moment later, leaving Penny and Ariadne alone.
“Your brother is quite the charmer,” Penny ventured.
“Mother says he could charm the skin off a cat, but I know his rougher side,” Ariadne answered. “Still, as brothers go, I’m rather fond of him.” They chatted for a few minutes before Marc and Rose returned, then he swept Penny away for a dance as well.
“How is Mort doing?” he asked as he twirled her across the floor.
“He’s doing well. He had a fever today but otherwise it’s remarkable how quickly he has recovered, his ribs aren’t bothering him at all now,” she replied.
Marc raised an eyebrow, “More magic?”
Penny sighed, “Yes, he keeps trying different things, but so far he’s done himself more good than ill.”
“Don’t tell him I said this, but he’s really quite brilliant, always was. If anyone can figure out how to use that gift of his without a proper teacher, he can. Especially with someone like you looking after him,” he smiled.
“He does take a lot of managing,” she laughed, wishing she could make it sound like the delicate laugh Rose used. Then she thought of her reason for coming and her face darkened.
“Are you alright?” Marc could be quite perceptive in his own way.
“Just a dark thought, has Lord Devon arrived yet?” she hadn’t seen him yet.
“No, he hasn’t shown his face yet. Relax Penny. I won’t let him bother you.” But Penny wasn’t worried about being bothered; she was more worried that the young lord might not show up at all. After their dance she went back to stand with Rose, who was chatting amiably with Ariadne. Marc found Elizabeth Balistair and took her out for a whirl on the floor. He would surely dance with every lady before the evening was over, it was a duty after all.
She wasn’t there long before Stephen Airedale asked her for a dance. She might be a commoner, but apparently beauty trumps class, at least at dances. While they were on the floor, Penny heard the announcement, Lord Devon had arrived. She moved closer to her partner and began scanning the room over his shoulders, looking for her nemesis. She failed to spot him, but she did see Dorian standing off to one side, talking to Gregory Pern. He’s too shy to dance, so he talks history with the Admiral’s son, typical, she thought.
After her partner
returned her to Rose and Ariadne, she looked for an excuse to escape from them for a moment. “I’m going to get something to drink, I’ll be right back,” she said, and without waiting for a reply, she headed for the table where they were serving refreshments. Rose watched her go, narrowing her eyes for a moment.
Penny was happy when she saw that the wine server was one of her fellow maids, Laura was her name. She knew her well and felt she could trust her for one final favor. She asked for red wine, but caught Laura’s hand as she handed the glass to her. “I need a favor, Laura. Will you deliver a message for me?” Penny tried to look casual.
Laura was a bit startled, “Sure Penny, but it will have to wait till after the ball, or I’ll get in trouble.” That was perfect, so Penny nodded and handed the other girl her letter. The outside was addressed simply ‘Mordecai’.
“Just take this to Mordecai after you are done here, he’ll want to see it.” She thanked Laura and headed back to where the other ladies were waiting, unaware of the blue eyes that had followed her every move.
Standing with Ariadne and Rose, she began to feel a nervous flutter in her stomach. Her resolve had kept her calm thus far, but handing over the letter made her anxious. She kept her eyes on the crowd, looking for Devon. “Penny,” Rose interrupted her thoughts, “Have you seen Dorian? I intend to get a dance out of that man if I have to drag him onto the floor.”
Penny had just spotted Devon, so the opportunity to get rid of Rose’s watchful gaze was perfect. “He’s standing over there, talking to Gregory Pern,” she pointed. “I’m sure poor Gregory could use a rescue. You know how Dorian gets once he’s talking about history and long done wars.”
“I don’t know him that well yet,” Rose answered, “but I hope to one day.” She winked and walked away. She moved gracefully in the direction that Penny had indicated. She drew near to where Dorian was standing but did not approach him, she kept moving slowly. His eyes left Gregory and she could feel him staring at her. Rose glided past him, turning her head to stare him full in the face, a twinkling gleam in her eye and a smile on her face. She kept walking, heading for the refreshments, but her eyes never left his face.
Even Dorian Thornbear could not miss that clue, dense as he so often was around women. He excused himself from Gregory Pern and followed her to the table. When he got there he found her in deep conversation with the girl serving wine.
“I need you to give me whatever Miss Cooper handed you, my dear,” Rose was holding two silver bits in her hand, even though they weren’t supposed to pay the servers.
“I’m sorry, milady, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Laura was a good friend, but holding off the formidable Rose Hightower was making her nervous.
Rose leaned in close to her ear, “We can do this one of two ways, one way ends with you being embarrassed and possibly whipped, the other you get two silver bits and do your friend an unexpected favor.” She leaned back and smiled at the girl. Dorian couldn’t hear all of the exchange, but the look on the girl’s face made him feel bad for her. A moment later Rose had him escort her over to a small table where she could examine the letter.
It was sealed with a blob of red wax, and the outside had the word ‘Mordecai’ written on it. Rose considered opening it, but she wouldn’t do that to Penny. Her mind worked quickly, and the clues of the past few days began to come together in her mind. Penny’s sudden interest in the dance, her odd questions, and her occasional dark moods. She still wasn’t sure what Penny might be planning, but she knew it must be serious, and it would be here, at the ball. The letter would likely complete the puzzle.
“Dorian,” she said giving him her full attention, “I need you to do something a bit strange for me.”
“Certainly Lady Rose,” his warm eyes held hers.
“Call me Rose from now on; it’s silly how you keep addressing me like that. We’ve been through enough now to call each other familiar.” She reached over and put her small hand over his. Dorian’s eyes widened, he was on uncertain ground now. “Forgive me Dorian, I wanted a dance, but this may be more important. Will you take this letter to Mordecai? He needs to read it now, the moment you find him. I would urge you to run if you would help him most.”
One of the most amazing things about Dorian Thornbear was his unfailing loyalty. Where many would question or seek to delay, Dorian took the letter and stood up, “Save that dance for me, Lady Rose.” He moved away through the crowd, striding quickly, and once he was outside, he did indeed break into a jog. Rose watched him go before rising to find Penny.
I was reading again when the door opened, “You could knock first,” I said as I saw Dorian striding in, he was breathing hard. I guess running up stairs will do that to a man.
He ignored my comment, “Here,” he said, “Read this and be quick, Rose seems to think it’s urgent.” I could see he was in no mood for foolishness, so I took the letter from his hand. It was marked with my name, and I was fairly sure the lettering was Penny’s.
Opening it I started scanning the contents, and then I reread them to be sure I hadn’t missed anything.
Dear Mordecai,
I write this now with great trepidation, not because of what I must do, but rather because it is impossible for anyone to put all their thoughts and feelings into something so limited as a simple letter. I need you to understand that you have always been my friend, and for that I am grateful. You should also know that the events resulting from my actions from this point forward are no fault of yours. I believe strongly that each person must take responsibility for their own actions, to do otherwise is to make oneself a victim in the hands of fate, and I will not be a victim.
Marcus has explained your situation with Devon Tremont to me fully, and for that reason I want you to know that what I plan to do is not because of you. As you know, I have good cause for hating that singularly unfortunate individual. I would that he had never been born. The fact that his removal might aid you and the Lancaster family is a great comfort to me, but it is not the cause for my actions. Please do not blame yourself. I make my own choices.
I will keep my reasons to myself, for they would only do you a greater hurt, one you do not deserve, for you have always been a gentle soul. I will say only that fate has conspired against me. I have done that which cannot be undone, and it has left me with few options. Rather than be held a prisoner by those options, I choose to act, hopefully preventing greater harm to others. I feel there is no redemption for Devon Tremont, just as there is none for me. At least my actions may lead to greater good, while his have done nothing but ill.
Last, and this is the most difficult part, for I fear it will cause you pain, I want to explain my feelings to you. My love for you is no recent thing, no sudden fancy. In our games as children you were always my knight in shining armor, though I doubt you realized it. Your kind heart and silly wit won me over during the endless summer days of childhood. I love you, and I always will, for whatever time is left to me. No matter what they say of me after this day do not forget that. There are others that love you though, and it is important you remember that. When I am gone, do not let despair drive you to foolish choices, for you are important to a great many people, and I am least among them.
Yours forever,
Penny
“Dammit!” I swore. “Dorian, where did you get this?”
“Rose got it from one of the servers,” he answered.
I was already dressing. The doublet and hose would take far too long so I put on my simple breeches and tunic, the clothes I had arrived in. After a moment’s thought, I put my mother’s surcoat over them and buckled on the sword my father had given me. Dorian’s eyes registered surprise at that. “You can’t wear a sword to the ball.”
“I’ll be damned if I don’t, and you might want to collect your own, we may need it.” I slipped my boots on. My fever had gone, so I felt better, though I was lightheaded. I started for the door, then paused. A few quick words and I had shielded myself. I was
n’t certain what might happen, but I wanted to be ready.
We went as quickly as I could manage, which was nearly a run despite the soreness in my back. My ribs no longer hurt, but I was still short-winded from the damage to my lung. Dorian left me when we reached the ground floor, going to fetch his own sword, I think, but I didn’t ask.
Back at the ball Penny was dancing. Rose had been a frustrating distraction, sending a variety of dancing partners her way, making it difficult for her to single out the man she sought. Lord Devon had solved the problem for her though. She had been watching him steadily while she danced with various partners, and he had noticed her looks. After her dance with Gregory Pern, he walked over with a curious expression.
Rose moved smoothly into his path, seeking to turn him aside, she could see he was focused on Penny, “Lord Devon, what a happy surprise to see you here tonight? I thought you might be busy tending your bruised pride.” Rose needled him, hoping to draw his anger.
“Excuse me, Lady Rose, I believe the lady seeks a dance,” he answered with a sneer, brushing past her.
“Very perceptive of you, Lord Devon,” Penny said with a sly smile. “I had little hope you would notice me.” She put her hands together and slid them up the sleeves till they were at her elbows.
“Would you care to dance?” Devon gestured at the milling dance floor.
“Certainly, if my poor grace will be enough to entertain you,” Penny answered. She drew her arms apart, and Rose was relieved to see her hands were empty. Devon took one of her hands and placed his free hand on her waist, slightly lower than was proper, but she did not complain. Penny had her other hand on his shoulder. She had planned and practiced for this, and the dagger’s pommel was in her palm with the blade running up her forearm while her fingers held it still. Holding it reversed forced her to keep her wrist straight, and her hand was stiff, but no one could see it, still hidden by her sleeve. Once she had her hand resting on his shoulder, he would be unable to see the strange posture of her hand.
