Unable to contain his curiosity, Will began working his way in small increments around the tent, making sure to keep his distance from the guard. Once he was on the opposite side from the entrance, he crept up to the back wall. It was a relatively small tent compared to most of the others in the area, being only ten feet wide on each side. He listened patiently until his ears discerned what he thought might be the sound of someone breathing. It was such a soft sound that he wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or not.
Imagined or not, there definitely wasn’t anyone moving within the tent or he would have heard them. Will began feeling around for the bottom edge of the tent and discovered that it had been well secured, with stakes every four feet, keeping it tightly against the ground. He spent considerable time gently wiggling and pulling at two of them until the entire back side was free.
The corners still held it down, but there was enough give in the canvas that he could lift the bottom far enough to slip under. Easing the canvas up, he saw something that froze the breath in his lungs. A pattern of glowing lines covered the ground inside, snaking around the edges of the interior. Some sort of protection or alarm?
If an alarm went up, Will could probably run back to his tent in less than six or seven minutes. The odds were pretty good that as long as no one saw his face he wouldn’t be caught. He considered simply sliding the letter across the ground toward the middle of the tent. She would definitely see it there in the morning.
Making up his mind, he whipped the envelope in a sideways motion, but as he did his hand brushed across the edge of one of the glowing lines. Magic rushed into him, and he felt a split-second of pain as a spell began to take hold, then it began to fade as his body absorbed the turyn, transforming it into his own. Once his panic subsided, Will smiled faintly. He might not be able to cast spells himself, but he had at least learned something useful from his grandfather’s training.
His heart tried to jump into his throat when he looked at the ground once more and realized that the glowing lines were gone. He hadn’t just nullified the spell’s effect on himself, he had completely erased it. She’ll notice that in the morning for sure, he observed.
Lying on the ground, he looked under the edge of the tent to see where his letter had gone. He had been in almost complete darkness long enough that his eyes were about as sensitive as they could get, but he still couldn’t see it. All he knew for certain was that it hadn’t landed in the middle of the room. If it went under something, she might not find it, he thought.
Lifting the edge of the tent, he began to slip under it. I’m not doing this, he thought, even as he slid all the way inside. There’s no way I’m stupid enough to do this. Getting to his knees, he looked around.
The interior was a dark grey mixture of shapes. On one side was something that might be a desk or table, and beside it were several large, square things that might be chests. On the other side was a cot with an irregular shape on it, which he assumed was the occupant of the tent. It occurred to him then that he didn’t know for sure that it was Isabel.
He needed some light to find the letter. Before he had destroyed the protective spell he had been able to see better, as its glow had helped. I wonder if normal people would have seen that spell, or if it was invisible the way the runes I make are? thought Will. Wait, does that mean I can see better if I make a rune?
It wasn’t the proper use for them, of course, but they did glow. He had never tried making one in a place dark enough that it would matter. The light they produced probably wasn’t enough to wake the person sleeping nearby. He hoped.
Trying to search without being able to see was probably riskier than making a small light, so Will tossed caution to the wind and produced a small lun rune in the air in front of him. Looking around, he thought he could see a little better, but the overall change in lighting wasn’t enough to help substantially.
Dismissing the rune, he made another. This time he used pertos, which was essentially just a fat dot roughly the size of the end of his thumb. When he had first learned the runes, his grandfather had been insistent that he make them fixed, so that they wouldn’t move. Apparently, that was important when crafting a spell so that all of them could be added without ruining the structure, but as a result of that practice he also knew quite well how to make them move, for that was what they did when he messed up.
Rather than make this pertos rune perfectly, he affixed it to the end of his left index finger. The light was still poor, but he could move his hand to bring it close to things he wanted to examine. Will was rather pleased with himself when it worked just as he had hoped.
Slowly working his way around the room, he found his letter had come to a stop against the bottom of one of the chests. He retrieved it and placed it neatly on top of the desk. He was about to leave when a cough and rustling from the direction of the cot stopped him cold.
The occupant had rolled over, but after a short time Will decided they must still be asleep. He moved closer, until he could definitely tell it was a woman. She had rolled onto her back, twisting the blankets until they exposed her left shoulder and one of her feet.
Taking a few more steps, Will reached the edge of the cot, and he lowered his finger so he could study her face. It was Isabel. The light was too dim to make out colors, but he knew from seeing her before that the smooth, full lips would be a soft pink color. A dark lock of hair had fallen across her cheek, and he fought a sudden urge to brush it aside. He stared at her for a minute, unable to take his eyes away.
Tailtiu came to his mind then, for the fae woman was flawlessly perfect in every detail. Isabel was not; from the faintest asymmetries in the shape of her face, to the pimple on her brow, she was profoundly human. But I’ll be damned if she isn’t the most beautiful human woman I’ve ever seen, thought Will. Unlike the alien beauty of the fae, Isabel’s warmth seemed to call to him.
Breaking out of his reverie, Will went back to where he had come in and got down on the ground, extinguishing his makeshift light at the same time. Then he slid out and took his time putting the tent stakes back in place. He couldn’t put the spell that he had destroyed back, but perhaps it wouldn’t be a problem. At the very least there was no way they could figure out who had done it.
The journey back to his own tent took just as long, and he was grateful when he was finally able to take off his boots and close his eyes. The next day would be rough with only a half a night’s sleep under his belt.
Chapter 42
Will woke with a shock as horns blared outside, and Sergeant Nash yelled at them from the tent entrance. Sitting up, he pulled his boots back on and started to lift the gambeson so he could slide it over his head and shoulders. He was stopped when someone’s hand fell on his shoulder. “William Cartwright?” said a deep voice.
Two soldiers he didn’t recognize stood behind him. Both were clad in mail byrnies. “Yes?”
“On your feet, soldier!” barked the one who had spoken already. Will got up, and the two grabbed his arms and dragged him into the aisle, where they turned him around and bound his hands behind his back.
“What’s going on?” asked Corporal Taylor.
“We’re taking this man into custody at the order of Lord Fulstrom,” said one of the two men holding Will’s arms. Without another word, they shuffled him out of the tent and marched him across the yard. Once outside of Company B’s campsite, they turned right and took him in the direction of the officers’ tents. As they went, Will could see men hurrying back and forth. Sergeants were yelling, and patrols had formed to sweep the area outside the camp.