Ash raised his eyebrows. “I don’t know if that’s true.”
“Do you know Darnessa hired me because I would compare unfavorably to other women? That men would choose girls she wanted for them when given a choice between them and me?” She hadn’t thought of it in those terms since the first time. Why did it bother her now?
“That I find hard to believe.”
“It’s not difficult if you know what a man likes. Too many are distracted by looks and don’t see incompatibility of spirit.” Ash didn’t look convinced, so she tried to explain. “Say a man prefers quieter girls of delicate build and blond hair, but what he needs is a more outgoing girl who will counter his antisocial tendencies. The one Darnessa wants to match him with is taller than he’d like, not very thin, and has brownish hair. So I color my hair darker, put on high shoes, and wear a dress that … fills me out a lot. When we meet, I chatter a lot and the other girl holds her tongue. Compared to me, she’s closer to what he likes, and he picks her.”
Sage left out how Darnessa called her a natural at doing exactly what made people uncomfortable.
“So you trick men into choosing what you want?” Ash sounded disgusted.
“I thought it was like that at first, but a good matchmaker gives people what they need. Most people focus on what they want. And we don’t do that all the time. Some men just need to feel they’re in control.” Sage screwed up her face. “It’s challenging and satisfying to create a match that grows into love, but I don’t think I can do this forever. Someday I’ll find Darnessa a new apprentice and try to find a job teaching. I’m just too young right now.”
His expression became unreadable. “If the process works so well, why won’t you use it yourself now and have Darnessa match you?”
“Because I’d rather make a mistake than yield my destiny to someone else.” She smiled crookedly at him. “And believe me, I’m damn good at making mistakes.”
Ash turned his face away, but she could see his own smile. “I can relate to that,” he said. Suddenly he squinted at a line of smoke to the southeast. With a tug of the reins, he pulled his horse off the road. Without thinking, Sage followed him, letting the other riders pass them by.
“What is it?” she asked, stomach fluttering, but he looked excited rather than worried.
He twisted around in the saddle. Casseck was nowhere to be seen—he must be patrolling away from the road. Ash made a few hand signals at the captain several yards behind them. Quinn shrugged and made a motion. Go ahead.
Ash looked back to Sage. “Want to see the fruit of your idea?” He leaned toward her and whispered, “If you can keep up.” He kicked his horse and cantered ahead of her.
Frowning, she urged Shadow, the mare she’d ridden for the past two days, forward. Ash gestured for Charlie to follow, which he did with an eager grin. As they passed the dogs at the head of the caravan, Ash whistled to one, and it dropped in beside them.
They rode in silence for nearly an hour. Ash was alert to their surroundings and kept his crossbow ready and sword handy. Even Charlie had grabbed a spear, which made Sage uneasy, thinking of the first man Ash had killed. She felt helpless, though she wouldn’t have been able to handle a weapon if she had one, but Ash wouldn’t have brought her or Charlie along if he expected trouble.
After a few miles, they turned right onto a wide trail for another quarter hour. When the dog went bounding ahead out of sight, Ash halted his horse. “What is it?” she whispered, drawing up beside him.
He beamed at her like a delighted child. “Wait.”
They turned back to the trees and, after a few minutes, Sage began studying Ash from the corner of her eye. In profile his nose was straight but slightly hooked, and his mouth twisted up a bit, hinting at the sense of humor he often buried. He sat straight in the saddle, with a natural grace and confidence she hadn’t seen when he drove the wagon, though now she understood why. Sage knew him well enough to tell he was relaxed, but his head tilted and turned minutely in reaction to the forest noises while his eyes remained unfocused. Seeing with your ears, Father used to call it.
The sword at his side was plain but elegant—and deadly, no doubt, if he used it with the same grace and efficiency he had in everything else he did. She wondered if the king knew what a fine son he had. It was a shame his birth excluded him from an official place in the royal household. Was that why he had joined the army?
Sage glanced up to his face again and realized he was watching her. They were spared the awkwardness of talking by the return of the dog. As it trotted closer, she saw two small animals hanging from its mouth. Ash jerked his head at Charlie, and the boy dismounted and went to meet the hound, which dropped the animals in front of him. Charlie knelt and patted the dog and gave it a treat from his pocket, then pulled a scrap of paper from a hidden slit on the collar. Giving the dog one more scratch behind its ears, he stood and picked up what she could now see were a pair of fat rabbits.
He brought both to Ash and grinned up at Sage. Now she understood. The dogs exchanged messages with scouts farther out. Like her father, they probably used whistles that animals could hear but humans could not.
Ash set the rabbits over the pommel of his saddle and read the message before addressing Charlie. “You can mount up; I don’t need to send anything back. He’s probably already another half mile away.” Ash tucked the note in his jacket, and Sage tried not to feel hurt he didn’t show her what it said.
She could see Ash sympathized, but he had his orders. He held up the rabbits by the twine connecting them. “Do you fancy rabbit stew tonight? No onions.”
Something caught her eye, and she reached for one animal’s hind leg. “Caught with a snare,” she said, pointing to a spot of fur that had rubbed off. Sage bent the leg experimentally. “This morning.”
“Very good, Fowler.” He said her name like it was a compliment. “Notice anything else?”
Sage studied one of the rabbits, trying to discern what wasn’t quite right. She leaned closer and squeezed its middle. “Gutted already.” Frowning, she squeezed harder, then pulled it into her lap. Her fingers found a slit cut in its belly, and she reached inside.
Ash smiled as she pulled out a glass container filled with water and sealed with a wax plug. “Our scout went back to the sick town and got us a gift.”
Sage looked up in awe. “A weapon in a bottle.”
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