Dark Moon Defender (Twelve Houses) (5 page)

BOOK: Dark Moon Defender (Twelve Houses)
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“You could try to fight badly,” Cammon said.
 
 
Justin laughed. “I don’t think I could pull it off. No, I’d probably have better luck working in the stables. Or maybe hiring on as a laborer if there’s some kind of industry. Looked like a shipping yard back there. I could haul barrels and load wagons. I’m strong enough.”
 
 
“Moonstones in all the windows at the freighting office,” Cammon observed.
 
 
“Maybe, but they won’t burn
me.

 
 
“Still, do you want to work for someone who’s that devout? You might get into trouble quicker.”
 
 
“‘Quicker,’ ” Justin repeated. “Like you think it’s going to happen sooner or later anyway.”
 
 
Cammon gave his quick, boyish smile. He’d worn relatively new clothes for this trip, had his hair cut, and shaved every day on the road, but he still looked like a gutter urchin without a copper to his name. “It always seems to,” he said, “with the six of us.”
 
 
“Anyway, I might get a moonstone of my own,” Justin said. “So I blend in a little. I don’t know where I go to get one, though—I mean, do they sell them at shops? Do you have to get one from the Daughters?”
 
 
“You could have borrowed Senneth’s,” Cammon said. Senneth was the only mystic Justin knew who could wear moonstones. She claimed the gems didn’t burn her skin and in fact worked to keep some of her power in check. Since, even fettered, her power was frighteningly strong, Justin often wondered what kind of ability she would display if she took the bracelet off.
 
 
“Too late now,” Justin said. “But I’ll figure it out.”
 
 
They circled the town again so Justin could fix its layout in his mind, would know where the alleys lay and where the main roads emptied out. He would spend the next few days exploring, of course, but it was automatic with a Rider to want to familiarize himself quickly with his terrain.
 
 
You never knew where the next attack might come from. When you might have to fight, when you might have to run.
 
 
“I wonder how she is today,” Justin said, thinking of their adventures the day before.
 
 
Cammon did not need any explanation to know Justin was speaking of the wounded mystic called Lara. Cammon always knew what you meant. “I was wondering that, too,” he said. “I told Kelti to take her with him to Ghosenhall, if he goes there, because she’ll be safe in the royal city, but that doesn’t mean she’ll want to go. She didn’t seem like the kind of person who let other people tell her what to do.”
 
 
Justin wondered how he could know that when the woman had barely been conscious before they left and had only said a few words, none of them about her personality. Then again, if Cammon made an observation about somebody, Justin always assumed he was right. The mystic had an uncanny ability to gauge emotion and judge character. It had been Cammon, of course, who insisted they detour from their planned route when he somehow picked up the echoes of Lara’s suffering and knew that a mystic was being brutally interrogated. Justin had hesitated only a moment—not because he doubted Cammon was right, but because he was not sure he wanted to start his residency in Neft with such a display of bravado. He was supposed to be in this region incognito, after all. But if Senneth had been here, she would unquestionably have ridden to Lara’s rescue, and Tayse always supported Senneth’s decisions. So Justin pulled his horse off the road and followed Cammon three miles through untracked woodland to find the isolated hut where torture was under way.
 
 
Three miles. How was it possible Cammon could feel the pain of a total stranger over such a distance? Justin wished one of the others was here so he could share his sense of eerie marvel.
 
 
“What kind of power did she have?” he asked Cammon now. “Could you tell?”
 
 
Cammon shook his head. “Nothing I’ve ever come across before. It seemed like she was full of—dirt—and gardens— and—and—
green
. I can’t explain it.”
 
 
“Huh. So if Senneth’s right and the mystics all draw their power from one of the gods, what kind of god would be watching over that woman?”
 
 
Cammon laughed. “That might be easier to answer if we knew anything about the other gods! But I thought, maybe, a goddess of plants and trees? A goddess of growing things?” He reflected a moment. “Or a goddess of spring, if such a thing could be.”
 
 
“Doesn’t seem too useful,” Justin commented.
 
 
Cammon stared at him. “Doesn’t seem
useful
? Well, of
course
it would be useful! You could have—fields that always yielded crops and trees that always bore fruit, and you could compensate for famine and drought, and you could—”
 
 
Justin was laughing. “Useful on a battlefield,” he explained. “I mean, Senneth can call fire, and I can see how you can use that skill in a war. And Kirra and Donnal can change shapes, and
that
comes in pretty handy when you’re facing enemies. But growing a field of wheat? In the middle of a war? Well, who cares?”
 
 
Cammon was shaking his head. “You’re so single-minded.”
 
 
“Every Rider is.”
 
 
After their second pass through town, Justin settled on the area that would best serve his purpose. It was on the east edge of the city, not far from the main road. If he was living there, he could casually slip out of town and go exploring along the route that led toward the convent. There were a couple of rather run-down taverns in this quadrant as well as some fairly extensive stables, and he thought he had a good chance of finding both work and lodging.
 
 
“Let’s try here,” Justin said, and led the way to the stable’s main entrance.
 
 
They dismounted and went inside, finding themselves in a fairly large open space that seemed to serve as reception area, granary, and all-around storage facility. Wide double doors opened off to one side, most likely leading to the stalls. The whole building was fragrant with the smells of hay, horse, leather, and dirt.
 
 
They called out their arrival and waited a few moments before the double doors swayed open and a short, thin, middle-aged man hurried through. He looked a little harried, as if he’d abandoned another task to respond to them. “Leaving your horses?” he inquired in a friendly enough voice. “How long?”
 
 
“Just overnight,” Cammon said.
 
 
Justin scowled and let his face turn sulky. “
You’ll
be going back tomorrow, but
I
won’t,” he said. “You work for a man five years—five years!—you expect he’ll treat you with fairness. But, oh no! One slip, and you’re out the door, and no one cares what becomes of you.”
 
 
“It was more than one slip,” Cammon said in a reasonable voice. “And she was his daughter.”
 
 
That hadn’t been scripted, but Justin assumed Cammon had his reasons for introducing the topic. “Well, I didn’t insult her,” he said, still sullen. “So I’m just a common soldier! I can’t talk to a noblewoman? So what if he’s a marlord, living on his great property? I’m still good enough to talk to his daughter.”
 
 
“She wanted to say good-bye to you,” Cammon said. “If you let me tell her where you went, maybe she’ll send a note.”
 
 
Justin shook his head. “I’m done with that life,” he said. “Don’t tell her anything. Besides—who knows? I might only stay here a day or two. I don’t even know if there’s work here in Neft.”
 
 
The stableman stepped forward at that. He’d stood by quietly while they argued, but it was clear he’d been listening to every word. Sympathetic to Justin’s situation, too, by the warm look in his eyes. Justin wondered if this man had romanced a serramarra at some point in his life and Cammon had that quickly been able to pick up on it.
 
 
“There’s work here, if you were looking,” he said. “My nephew ran off to sea and the other boy who worked here went and joined the Daughters last week. Too much for one man to do, but if you’re good with horses, I could use the help.”
 
 
He didn’t want to appear too eager. Justin let his face assume a somewhat scornful expression and looked around. “I know horses,” he said. “How many do you usually board? What kind of hours? What do you pay?”
 
 
“I can’t afford to pay much, but you’ll pick up tips,” the stableman said. “Lot of fancy folks riding through Neft, hoping to meet up with one of the Daughters, or even the Lestra. Lot of merchants and traders coming through, too. They’re not stingy people.”
 
 
“I need a place to stay, too,” Justin said.
 
 
The man gestured back toward the recesses of the building. “If you can’t find anything better, there’s the hayloft. You can bed down for a few nights. Longer, if you like.”
 
 
It wouldn’t do to be restricted to one location like that. Justin had to be free to move from point to point, with no one having a strict accounting of his hours. He kept his expression just shy of a sneer and said, “I have some coins in my pocket. I think I can pay for a bed.”
 
 
“Well, sleep on it if you want, but I could use the help,” the stableman said. “I’m Delz.”
 
 
“Justin. Let me go find dinner and look for a room. I’ll be back in the morning, one way or the other.”
 
 
“Golden Boar, just up the street, has a good dinner pretty cheap,” Delz said.
 
 
Justin nodded. “Appreciate it. We’ll try there. Come on, Cam.”
 
 
A few minutes later they were seated in the Golden Boar, which was dark, crowded, and not particularly clean. The place had an appetizing smell to it, though, so someone knew how to cook, Justin decided. Their waitress was young, yellow-haired, and smiling, but Cammon started laughing as soon as she took their orders and departed.
 
 
“What?”
 
 
“She thought you were handsome. Would have liked you to flirt with her. But you didn’t even notice her.”
 
 
Justin was surprised. He never overlooked anybody. He couldn’t—a Rider always had to assess every stranger for threat and ability. “She was about five feet two inches, probably weighed less than a hundred pounds, light hair up in some kind of bun. Moonstone necklace. No visible weapons. Didn’t look very smart. I noticed her.”
 
 
Cammon was laughing even harder. “Right. She wanted you to think she’s pretty. She wanted you to smile at her, talk to her a little bit. Be interested in her.”
 
 
Justin grunted. “Too much work.”
 
 
“That woman or all women?”
 
 
“All women.” He thought that over. “Well, not Senneth. She doesn’t need anyone taking care of her and making a fuss over her.”
 
 
“Kirra?”
 
 
“She wants people to make a fuss over her all the time!” But he had to think that over, too. “Although she doesn’t need anyone to take care of her. But she’s more trouble than anybody.”
 
 
“Well, that might be a way to disguise your reason for coming to Neft, and staying,” Cammon suggested. “Find a girl you like. Or pretend to find a girl.”
 
 
“Right. Then I’ll have even less time to be looking around.” He grinned. “Anyway, I just left some woman behind, didn’t I? How faithless do you want me to be?”
 
 
Cammon smiled. “I think it was a good story. It’ll get around.”
 
 
“What was up with Delz? He fall in love with a marlord’s daughter?”
 
 
“I didn’t pick up the whole tale. Just some thought that there was a woman he cared about, and no one believed he was good enough for her. Seemed like he’d respond if that was your own situation.”
 
 
“Though I’m glad it’s not.”
 
 
Cammon laughed. They talked idly till the waitress brought their food and a couple of glasses of ale. Mindful of Cammon’s gaze, Justin gave her a smile, but was annoyed to see her dissolve into giggles and blushes. So then he looked away, concentrating on his food till she left again, slowly as her feet would take her.

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