Dragon Blood (Hurog #2)(32)

No, she thought wryly, she was not imagining the menace he projected. He wanted her to be afraid. "I care for him and I don't want to lose friends. Rosem doesn't have much of a sense of humor. If he believes you'll betray us, he'll try to do something about it."

"You think I'd deliberately mislead him?" His hand came out and touched the rapid pulse on her neck.

"Yes." The touch made her lose her temper. "I think you'd enjoy it. You may have everyone else fooled, but I know what you are."

"You do," he agreed.

She waved her hand in dismissal. "Not the dragon part. Ward treats you as if he needs to protect you - just like he treats everyone else. Stala thinks you a bumbling wizard, powerful but shy. And Tosten ... " She considered a moment. "Tosten's worried you're going to hurt Ward."

He'd been watching her complacently until her last statement. "Hurt Ward?"

She nodded. "He knows that Ward sees you as one of his strays - like me, that young girl with the birthmark across her face, and the little boy with the crippled foot whose father is in the Blue Guard. But he thinks that means that Ward doesn't know what you are, what you're capable of doing."

"I'd never hurt Ward," Oreg said, his voice low.

"I know that," she said. "Tosten does, too now, I think. No one could miss how you felt about Ward when you came to tell us you'd lost him."

Oreg took several strides away from her. After a moment he came back, his face and body relaxed once more.

"So you know me better than anyone?" The threat was back in his voice.

She raised her chin and smiled coldly at him. "You are a predator - like me. I think you would give your life for those at Hurog - but you care little or nothing for anyone else." She could feel the menace gathering around her. A chill wind cut through the trees, rustling the old leaves that waited for spring budding to fall. "It worries me to take you to Rosem," she said. "You are too careless with other people. But I want what he wants enough to risk exposing him."

He laughed suddenly, sinking bonelessly against the oak tree. "I'll make a deal with you. You find Ward and I'll listen to what this friend of yours has to say. I'll be a sincere, innocent half-mad wizard for you. If"  -  he held up one finger, "if you don't subject me to any more speeches."

She considered him warily. Probably, she thought, there had never been any danger at all. "What if I promise to try not to subject you to speeches? I have a weakness for them, which I'll try to curb in your presence."

He grinned at her, showing his teeth. "Let us in to the dragon's lair, then, and let Lord Duraugh know what we know, hmm? He'll be expecting us."

She half thought he would work some wizardry that would transport them into the house, but he merely extended his elbow in invitation. When she tucked her arm in his, he patted her hand and let out another snort of laughter.

"If you think I am so dangerous, why are you so easy with me?"

She smiled. "Because I am no threat to Ward and you know it."

They walked into the alleyway that ran behind the house and through the garden gate. The back door was unlocked, which Oreg corrected as soon as they were through.

The house was sparsely furnished with good pieces. Tisala let her hand trail over a small table. The house had an impersonal look, as if it hadn't been a home in a very long time.

Oreg led her silently up the back stairway and down a dimly lit hall. There were several doors, but only one with light shining under it. Oreg stopped there and knocked.

"Come in," said Ward's uncle, and they did.

The room had been meant for a library, but books were expensive and the shelves that lined one wall were empty. A few modest but tasteful vases and a smallish carving or two tried to make the room less empty.

Lord Duraugh and his son, Beckram, were seated before a long table. Beckram looked distinctly relieved to see Oreg and Tisala.

The warrior who'd traveled from Hurog was gone: Duraugh wore the elegant court clothes like a second skin, and it made him look almost effeminate. Beckram, though even more elaborately arrayed in court fashion, wore a leashed purposefulness like a cloak around his shoulders. No one would mistake him for a simple court dandy.

"Did you find Ward?" asked Duraugh.

Tisala shook her head. "No. But I found out for certain that he's not in the regular part of the Asylum. Tomorrow my friend will get me into the section built to hold mages. If he's there, I can find him. It's not very big, just a few cells and a laboratory."

"They wouldn't need it to be very big," said Beckram. "How many mad sorcerers could there be?"

"Too many," replied Tisala somberly. "And they all work for the king."

"Where's Tosten?" asked Oreg.

Beckram answered. "He was restless and decided to do some exploring. Since he took his harp with him, I imagine that means he's going tavern hopping."

"Oreg told me the king refused to let you see Ward," said Tisala, taking a seat on an empty bench that spanned one wall of the room. She leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes. It had been a long day.

"The king said he'd heard that Ward had recovered his wits and he wanted an expert opinion before he trusted such an important keep to a boy whose own father thought him to be addled," said Duraugh.