The serving wenches took positions around the barrel.
“Where are you putting Fortner?” Hugh asked.
“You and I are going to sit in the middle of the head table, with me on your left. He will sit across from us with his people. I’m keeping Dugas and Johanna on my side. The rest is up to you.”
He nodded. “I’ll put the centurions on my right.”
“Do you want Fortner’s people all at our table so it would be easier for the marksmen to shoot them? I don’t think we can fit all of them in.”
He considered it. “No, let’s split them between the three tables.”
Elara surveyed the hall. It was almost done. The beer barrel was full, the places set, the food was nearly cooked. Everything had to go smoothly. If they lost Rufus, they’d lose the chance at business contacts in Lexington. They needed the contacts, the money and their influence.
“Food, decorations, beer,” she rubbed her forehead. “What am I forgetting?”
“Herbal samples,” he said.
“We have them ready in the Florida room. I don’t think he’ll be looking at them until tomorrow anyway. Did you double the patrols?”
“Yes. And I put extra marksmen on the balcony.”
She glanced up to where a narrow balcony ran along one wall of the room. Nice. Fortner would be sitting with his back to them. If anything went wrong…
If anything went wrong, they were as ready as they were going to be.
A commotion broke out at the doors. Johanna walked in, flanked by three Iron Dogs and Sam. A line of blood stretched from Sam’s scalp, running down his temple into his hair.
Hugh and Elara moved at the same time.
“What happened?” Elara asked.
“Aberdine does not want our help,” Johanna reported.
“They met us on the road,” an older female Iron Dog reported. “They made a road block.”
“Cops?” Hugh asked.
“Civilians,” Sam said. “They said Aberdine is a good Christian town and they didn’t need any help from devil worshippers.”
Of all the idiotic… “What happened to your head?” Elara demanded.
“Someone threw a rock.” Sam shrugged.
“We withdrew,” the female Iron Dog said. “It was that or kill the lot.”
Hugh looked at Sam. “You’ll live. Next time someone throws a rock, duck.” He raised his hands and signed. “Are you hurt?”
“No. Sam took my rock. He moved in front of me, so it hit him instead,” Johanna signed.
Anger boiled in Elara. “Marcus!”
Marcus turned to her. “Yes?”
“Stop all shipments to Aberdine.”
“Okay,” Marcus said.
She turned to Sam. “Don’t you worry. Nobody does this to our people. They’ll come crawling back to us in a week.”
“I doubt they’ll run out of cough tea in a week,” Hugh said.
“They’ll have plenty of tea,” she told him. “But we supply all of their wine and most of their beer. As of today, Aberdine is a dry town. They’ll be back with their hats in hand. Just wait.”
Nicole ran into the hall. “The guests are coming!”
Hugh turned to her and grinned. “It’s show time.”
“And then!” Stoyan waved his cup, pretending to be drunker than he was. “Then the Preceptor says, ‘To hell with it, we’ll burn it.’”
The table broke into thunderous laughter.
Hugh cracked a smile. Elara smiled, too, watching Rufus Fortner. He was a big bear of a man, a couple of inches over six feet and at least two hundred and fifty pounds. He was in his fifties, but time didn’t soften him, it just made him grizzled. His shoulders barely fit through the door. Caucasian, with skin tanned by sun and weather, Rufus had one of those masculine faces that looked overly exaggerated: square, jutting chin; massive jaw; short, broad nose; prominent eyebrows; narrow blue eyes. His mustache, which he kept trimmed, was still red, but his hair and beard had gone gray.
He was into his fifth beer and he appeared to be enjoying himself.
Rufus raised his mug. “Beer me!”
Make that sixth.
Irene dipped a pitcher into the barrel of beer, glided over, and refilled the mug.
“Thanks, sweetness.”
Irene moved out of his way.
Elara glanced around the table. The six guardsmen Fortner had sat at their table were a mixed lot. Five men and only one woman. They were drinking, and eating, relaxed.
“It’s a nice place you’ve got here,” Rufus said.
Something tugged at Elara’s consciousness.
“Can’t complain,” Hugh said.
“We’ve worked a castle once. In Cincinnati,” one of the guardsmen offered.
“Ah, yes, the Cus.. Ces… What the hell was that fellah’s name?” Rufus wrinkled his forehead.
“Cousteau,” the lone female guard supplied.
“That’s right.”
Here it was again, a faint tug.
“Excuse me.” Elara rose from the table.
Hugh caught her hand. “Where are you going, pumpkin?”
To cast a death spell that will sear your eyes from their sockets. “Somewhere you can’t come with me.” She winked. “To the room down the hallway with the word LADIES on the door.”
He let go. “Don’t be too long.”
“I won’t.”
Elara walked away. Behind her, Rufus said in what he probably thought was his confidential voice, “You’re a lucky man, Preceptor. No offense.”
“Oh I am,” Hugh said. “I am.”
She was one hundred percent sure he was watching her backside as she was walking away. Elara put an extra wiggle into it. Eat your heart out.
In the hallway, she turned left, walked through a door, and ran up the flight of stone stairs to the hidden balcony. Savannah stood in the shadows, watching the room. From the floor this area was practically invisible.
“What is it?” Savannah asked.
“I don’t know. Something… I need a minute.”
Below Hugh clapped Rufus’s shoulder and laughed.
“D’Ambray plays his role well, doesn’t he?” Savannah observed.
“Yes. He’s a chameleon. He’ll be whatever the circumstances require him to be.” It’s finding the real man that was the problem.
“The two of you have been avoiding each other.”
Hiding things from Savannah was impossible. “I walked through his dreams. He caught me.”
“Elara!”
“I know, I know.”
Dreams were woven from emotions, from the most basic wants, the strongest desires, the sharpest fears. Logic and reason didn’t exist there, except as twisted shadows of themselves. Walking through them was dangerous. She’d stepped into Hugh’s inner world. Elara had trespassed, and he knew it. He would make her pay one way or another.
“Why?” Savannah shook her head. “Expending your power? Letting him see you?”
“You weren’t on the wall when he fought the vampires. I was. He used a spell, Savannah. It wasn’t like his normal magic. He pulled it to him and then he altered it, shaping it into something else. He said two words. He was clear across the field by the trees and I felt it all the way on the wall. It wasn’t just powerful, it was precise. He pulled the undead out into the open, but he’d already had his people in the woods and they weren’t affected.”
“Power words,” Savannah said. “They call Roland the Builder of Towers. Maybe there is a reason for that.”
“You think this is the language of the Tower of Babylon?”
“That’s what rumors say. It’s supposed to command the magic itself.”
“It did. I went into his dreams. I had no choice. I wanted to know what else he was capable of.”
Elara fell silent. Below Hugh laughed, flashing white teeth.
“What did you find out?” Savannah asked.
“He’s a monster. Like me.”
“We’ve had this talk,” the older witch said quietly.
“I am what I am. You, of all people, know that.” Elara hugged her shoulders. “You should’ve heard him speak about Roland.”
“What did he say?”
“That he was his king, his god, his life. He thinks that everything he is comes from Roland.”
“And since there is no Roland now,” Savannah said, “there is no Hugh.”
“The exile should’ve broken him. I don’t understand how he survived, but he did. He’s extremely dangerous, Savannah. There are things I saw in his past...”
“Things?” Savannah asked.