“I can find out for you, Your Grace,” the captain offered.
D’Amiran shook his head. “I doubt General Quinn would go through the trouble of coding messages only to send the key with them.” He pursed his lips. “It does bother me he’d use such precautions, though. He must have suspicions.” D’Amiran covered his nose again as he gestured for the man to be taken away. “Focus your efforts on those topics, Captain.”
The guards began dragging the courier toward the back door of the hall. The man didn’t struggle, but he didn’t cooperate, either.
“Do me a favor, Captain,” the duke called through his makeshift mask. The head guard turned back. “Wait until I’m done eating before you get too involved. It’s difficult to properly digest to the sound of screaming.”
32
SAGE ROSE EARLY and dressed in her breeches, boots, and linen shirt with a heavy felt vest, binding and covering her hair with a wool cap and the hood from her faded brown jacket, then packed her belongings and left the guest wing before anyone else stirred. She strolled to the kitchens, blending in with the servants and common soldiers and grabbing a quick breakfast before heading to the stables. After locating the lead hostler, she asked him which of the horses was designated for Lady Sagerra. He pointed it out, glad to delegate another task on the busy morning. She picked through the cavalry’s spare gear until she found a saddle with stirrups already set to the right length and carried it to the stall.
They hadn’t patronized her by giving her a pony or a packhorse, but rather a spare mount of one of the riders. She offered the dark gray mare an apple and began brushing her down with a curry comb, making friends quickly. After checking the animal over for signs of lameness or injury, Sage pulled the saddle down from the stall door and heaved it over the mare’s high back.
As she bent over to cinch the girth, she heard a familiar voice. “Boy, that saddle needs an over-cantle for a lady—you’ll have to put it on before you cinch it down.” Sage grinned and didn’t acknowledge him.
Ash pulled the stall door open and walked up behind her. “Did you hear me? You have to put the side cantle over that first.” He grabbed her arm, and she stood straight to face him.
“If you don’t mind, I’d just as soon go without it,” she said.
He froze in shock, his hand grasping her forearm. She came up to his chin, but this close she had to crane her neck to meet his eyes. “If you’d ever tried to ride in a skirt, you’d know why.”
Ash released her arm and stepped back, his mouth falling open. The way his eyes roved over her was no different from the way others stared when they saw her in breeches, but she had to resist the urge to turn her backside away from his lingering gaze. He shook his head. “Riding in the front of a wagon or sidesaddle is one thing, my lady, but I think Mistress Rodelle will draw the line at this.”
Sage winked at him. “Then I suggest you help me stay out of sight until it’s too late.”
Outside she turned her face to the sun and soaked in the warm rays. She wouldn’t miss that silly hat, though she’d end the day with far more freckles than she started with. It seemed a fair trade for the freedom she gained. Once on the road, Sage observed the landscape with fascination. Crop fields were less common as the terrain became rockier, and the wooded areas they passed through were broader. The group was beginning to cross Tasmet, which wasn’t technically another country, but it felt exotic to her. In Crescera, only the richer houses were built out of stone, while peasants built with wood and thatched with grass. Here even the poorest homes were made from stone and had slate roofs.
At first she was embarrassed, thinking she came across as a wide-eyed country girl, especially now that she knew Ash’s true identity. He’d also been in the province with the army for years, so nothing was new to him, but he seemed to take delight in her impressions, pointing out trace veins of colorful minerals threading the walls they passed. Her self-consciousness slowly melted away.
Ash was also much more open to her questions about the army. He talked about his fellow soldiers like they were his brothers, which she supposed they were. Sage wondered how he felt about that. “You know about my family,” she said. “What’s yours like?”
He shrugged. “Not much to tell. My father is … well-known. I grew up seeing him from a distance. Mother was devoted to me, but I’ve only seen her a few times in recent years. The army is my family now.” He avoided her eyes. “I suppose my name makes it obvious what I am.”
“Which makes no difference to me,” she said, realizing he wasn’t ready to reveal himself yet. “Tell me about page training. I can hardly believe some of the duties your captain trusts Charlie with.”
Ash drew his brows together. He had the darker skin of an Aristelan as well as the nearly black hair. She’d never be able to match his color even if she stayed outdoors all summer, contrary to her aunt’s endless lectures on ruining her complexion. “What I remember most was the hazing, the way the older boys tormented the younger ones. Quinn’s father was a colonel back then, and the day after Quinn arrived, he marched right up to his father and said he wanted out of the army if he was going to have to serve with twats like them for the rest of his life.”
Sage chuckled despite her dislike of the captain. “I guess his father made him stay.”
Ash shook his head. “His father told him he could go home if he wanted—it wasn’t like anyone was showing the brats how to act any better.” He smiled tightly. “Quinn took it as a challenge and went back to the pages’ tent and picked a fight.”
Sage snorted. “I suppose he won all the boys’ respect that day and made lieutenant the next week.”
Ash ignored her sarcasm. “No. Got licked pretty badly, but he refused to name whoever had beat him. I guess it was only right, seeing as he started it.” He stared at his mount’s ears. “That was the beginning of a very rough year for him. I’ll never know why he didn’t quit.”
“What happened?” She found it a bit intriguing. “He obviously made it through and succeeded.”
“Don’t really know,” said Ash. “He just worked at being and doing what was right, slowly gaining friends—myself among them—until just about everyone looked up to him somehow. He took that responsibility very seriously. Still does. By the time we were squires, all the fighting and hazing had stopped and the pages were handling duties usually left to squires, who were then able to focus higher.”