“I want some company,” said the other woman. Will thought she sounded young. “I’ve never been so bored in my life. Father won’t even let me explore the town without an armed escort.”
“It wouldn’t be safe otherwise,” said Isabel.
“You don’t have a guard. That’s an even bigger shock. Your father would have a fit,” said the younger woman.
“I do.”
“Where?”
“I sent him on an errand.”
“Lucky,” said the other woman. “I could never get away with that. Yours don’t dare disobey you. Oh! I almost forgot.”
“Forgot what?” asked Isabel.
“Father wanted me to ask if you knew where that peasant boy is. No one can find him. They said the last place he was seen was in the medic tent last night.”
Isabel sighed. “He should be resting. Did you check the soldier’s tents?”
“Of course not. Father wouldn’t let me near them. Besides, he already sent someone to check for him there. They said you gave an order that he be given the day off.”
“Well, he isn’t here,” lied Isabel. “Do you know why your father is looking for him?”
“No idea. Probably something to do with the rumor that he’s a warlock,” said the other woman.
“What? That isn’t true!”
“I heard some of the knights reporting to Father,” said the younger woman. “They say he killed at least three sorcerers, but that’s not the strangest part.” She paused.
“Spit it out.”
The young woman’s voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. “Their elementals were nowhere to be found. They just vanished! And that’s not all. He was sent to scout the enemy camp, and when they marched on the enemy the next morning, they found all the sentries unconscious at their posts. Most of the blood had been drained from their bodies, leaving them too weak to fight.”
Isabel laughed nervously. “That’s just ridiculous.”
“That’s what they’re saying.”
“Well it sounds like jealous men trying to undermine the accomplishments of someone else to me.”
“So, are you going to give me a tour of the town or not?” asked the younger woman, changing topics.
“Later,” said Isabel. “Let me take care of a few things.”
“Be sure to dress properly.” The other woman stepped closer and Will felt her tug on Isabel’s nightgown. “You were half out. If your father knew you were half naked in the middle of an armed camp, he’d cast you out for being a whore.”
“Get out,” ordered Isabel. “This is my tent. I’ll dress however I like here.”
Will heard footsteps retreating, and after a moment Isabel shoved her chair back and stood up. She started to speak, but Will put a finger to his lips, warning her to stay quiet. His ears had caught the sound of the other woman stopping not far away. Silently he mouthed the words, ‘She’s still outside.’
Will fanned himself. It had been hot beneath the blanket. As he stared at Isabel, he saw her face flush red. After a minute he heard more footsteps and he said, “She’s gone.”
“What did you do?” demanded Isabel.
“Nothing! I tried not to even breathe. It was your idea to shove me under the desk and—and—”
“Not that! What did you do to those sorcerers?” snapped Isabel. She was searching through a chest as she spoke. She found what she was searching for a moment later, and she slipped into a thick, quilted housecoat.
A little late for that, thought Will dryly, trying to hide his smirk. “I did what I had to,” he said at last. “I killed them. They were trying to burn me alive, so I didn’t have many options.”
She noticed his faint smirk, and her face lit up with indignation. Isabel held up one finger imperiously. “First, you shouldn’t have the power to kill a sorcerer—”
“There were hundreds of men on the field,” he said, interrupting. “I wasn’t alone, and just so you know, a sword works just as well on your kind as it does on anyone else.”
“My kind?” spat Isabel. She shook her head as though trying to clear a bad taste from her mouth. “Never mind. If it was one sorcerer, I’d believe you, but three? No one gets that lucky.”
“Well I did.”
“And what about their elementals? Explain that for me,” she demanded.
Will’s temper was beginning to rise. She had finally shown her true colors. “That’s what you really care about, isn’t it?” he accused.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. All you people care about is collecting more power,” said Will coldly.
Isabel’s eyes were flashing with fury. “You have no idea who you’re talking to, and after everything I’ve done for you!”
“I didn’t ask you to do anything for me,” Will shot back. “And one way or another I’ll pay you for the armor. I don’t intend to owe you anything. You can find some other wizard to kiss your feet.”
“You ungrateful churl!”
“There it is,” said Will acidly.
“If you don’t explain what happened to those elementals, they’re liable to execute you for warlockry.”
“None of your damned business,” ground out Will, heading for the exit. “And I’d rather be called a warlock than a goddamned sorcerer!”
“William!” she hissed, trying not to yell. “Get back here.”
“I’m late for an execution,” he said, stomping out of the tent.
Chapter 53
Will’s temper cooled rapidly as he walked, leaving him feeling foolish before he had even reached Company B’s campsite. That was stupid, he thought. Changing directions, he decided to circle the perimeter. He needed time to think.
“I’m about to be interrogated for black magic, and I just pissed off the one person with some power who might actually believe me,” he muttered to himself.
He tried to figure out why he had gotten so angry. It’s her superior attitude, he told himself, but he knew that wasn’t true. Sure, she had called him a churl, but that had been after they started fighting. Was it because she was trying to make him into some sort of lapdog?
No, that wasn’t it either. True or not, he found the idea intriguing. There were worse things in life than serving a beautiful lady of wealth and power. It was the sorcery.
When his grandfather had first told him about the magical slavery that gave sorcerers their power, it had been something distant from him. It had been unrelatable. But after freeing several elementals, it felt different. He knew for himself how repugnant the practice was. Arrogan had been right. They were worse than some warlocks. A warlock might only sell himself, though the really bad ones traded in other people’s lives. But every sorcerer was a slave master.
Yet he had met several sorcerers without getting this angry. Why did it bother him so much that Isabel was one? The answer was simple. Because he wanted her to be better than that. She was seemingly perfect in every other way—and he liked her.
Will tried to clear his head. Isabel was not his main concern. His biggest problem was that he was about to be accused of a capital crime. There were only two practical solutions, run or stay. The congruence point that would take him home was only quarter of an hour’s walk away. He could easily disappear.