The White Spell (Nine Kingdoms #10)(13)

There was a tall, slender figure out in the middle of it, running a horse in circles around himself. It looked like foolishness to him, but what did he know? Obviously there were things he didn’t understand about the whole endeavor, things he certainly didn’t want to learn.

He looked about for a distraction and found it in the persons of the two men standing to one side. He looked them over ruthlessly and decided that one of them had to be the lord of the place, Fuadain. The man’s clothing was likely the best Sàraichte could produce, his boots certainly better than what Acair was currently wearing, and his mien one of a man who was accustomed to having his way. If he had magic, it was of a very common, vulgar sort. Acair saw nothing that gave him pause, even in his current state of not having anything but threats with which to defend himself.

The man standing next to the assumed Fuadain of Sàraichte was a shorter, rotund sort. Acair dismissed him immediately, mostly because he found that his attentions were relentlessly drawn back to the lad working the horses.

He realized with a start that he was a she and he wondered how he had missed that the first time around. That it was a girl and not a man handling what he could see was an irascible stallion left him wondering quite seriously about her state of mind.

“You stupid girl, run him harder!”

Acair looked at Fuadain and decided that whatever else he might ever come to think about the man, he most definitely was never going to be fond of him. There were ways a man comported himself with the fairer sex and there were ways he didn’t. Acair was very clear in his own mind about which was which.

The truth was, he loved women. He loved their small-talk, the way they smelled, how they moved. He had spent a great deal of time winding yarn, judging stitchery, refilling cups of coffee and tea. And that was just for the genteel ones who weren’t coming at him with spells to rival his own or plotting behind their fans to take over thrones. He had never met a horse gel before, but he wasn’t opposed to the idea, especially after he beat some manners into the lord of the hall—

“I wouldn’t.”

He glanced at Doghail. “I beg your pardon?”

Doghail looked pointedly at Acair’s hands.

Acair realized they were balled into fists and he was halfway to stirring himself to go do something about what he was seeing out there in that dusty space—

“Arena.”

He looked at Doghail with a fair bit of alarm. “Am I speaking my thoughts aloud or are you reading them?”

“You’re muttering.”

“I do that.”

“You might want to not.”

“Mutter or go kick sense into those two whoresons out there?”

“The latter,” Doghail said seriously. “I would leave Lord Fuadain alone because he could have you slain as easily as to look at you and no one would ever find your body.”

“Could he indeed?” Acair drawled before he could check himself. He took a deep breath and reminded himself of what he was supposed to be pretending to be. “I meant, I’ll remember that.”

Doghail looked unimpressed. “The other is Slaidear, the stable master. I wouldn’t cross him either or he’ll sack you. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to miss out on any of those coppers, now would you?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why don’t you take a walk around the grounds, go see the big house, then come back and shovel a bit more. Do you a world of good, that.”

“And it will accustom me to boots which are not mine.”

“Now that you mention it,” Doghail said with a faint smile, “that too.”

A year? He wasn’t going to last a fortnight. But he decided that if he were offered a few minutes of liberty, he wasn’t going to sneer at them. He doffed a non-existent hat Doghail’s way, then left the stables before he had to listen to any more of what was being shouted at that girl.

He was half tempted to begin a diary of his adventures. If nothing else, his mother would have been interested in his adventures. The first entry would surely have been a detailed examination of his surprise over what bothered him the most about not having magic and that would have been the lack of ability to repay arrogant men for things they deserved to be repaid for.

He had absolutely no desire to consider how that might apply to himself.

He left the barn and walked out into the twilight. A year. How the hell was he going to keep his mouth shut and his hands in his pockets for an entire bloody year?

Well, he would spend a great deal of it considering several pieces of mischief he hadn’t had time to see to properly in the past and deciding which one he would be about all of a quarter hour after he was released from the scrutiny of the spell that still followed him. That might take up a good bit of the all the mindless time to think he was finding his days becoming filled with.

He would go mad else.





Three





He knows nothing.”

Léirsinn looked up from the tack she was polishing. It wasn’t something she generally did, but the work was mindless and she needed a bit of that at the moment. Besides, they were definitely short-handed and the work wasn’t going to do itself.

At least it was work she didn’t mind. The day before had been endless and full of things she hadn’t enjoyed doing, such as biting her tongue. Better to be about something that kept her out of sight and earshot.