Shadowdance 01 - A Dance of Cloaks

planned for me, I know damn well they weren’t made with wide open fields in mind.”
    “I’d much rather have my room,
our
room, in our mansion, safely tucked in city walls,” Madelyn insisted.
    “Do you desire tight spaces so strongly?” he asked, frowning.
    Madelyn sighed.
    “I don’t know. Perhaps when your camp is made I’ll change my mind. Just promise me, if I desire to return to the city, you will let me go? I can take some of the sellswords, and I doubt I will be hard-pressed to find a legion of servants and working girls wishing to come with me.”
    Before her husband could make such a promise, they were interrupted by the damned barbarian.
    “I’ve found the boy,” Torgar shouted as he rode up from the south.
    “A boy no longer,” Laurie said, turning to greet them. Taras Keenan rode beside Torgar, looking more the son of the sellsword than of the thin noble. He was on the cusp of his seventeenth birthday, and had spent every day of their slow trek to Veldaren practicing with the mercenaries. More annoying to Madelyn, he had grown rather fond of Torgar and chosen him as his favored teacher and sparring partner.
    “Until I fight a man in honest combat, I’ll still be a boy,” said Taras.
    “That sounds like Torgar talking,” Madelyn said, her tone disapproving.
    “It is only a gentle reminder to you that I’ll still be your precious child for a little while longer,” Taras said, smiling.
    “Good to know you have your mother’s tongue instead of Torgar’s, at least,” Laurie said. “But now I have something a bit more important for you, Torgar. Go to both the Connington and Gemcroft estates and invite them to our lovely hills. Do your best to convince them. Remind them it is my year to host, and they cannot refuse a place given once I have tables down and food to eat.”
    “Mention food and we’ll get Leon down here, even if it’s in the middle of a pigsty,” Torgar said with a deep laugh. “Heard he’s having a hard time getting his delicacies with all the guilds running amok. Shall I bring the boy with me on my duties, milord?”
    Madelyn’s glare was a clear no, and that was enough to make up Laurie’s mind.
    “Aye, you should,” he said. “Remember, Taras, I have given Torgar charge in these matters, not you, so do not contradict him unless absolutely necessary.”
    Taras could hardly contain his excitement. He hadn’t been to Karak’s city of stone since he was nine, and had asked questions of the place without ceasing on their ride.
    “Come,” he shouted to Torgar. “The city’s waiting for us!”
    He galloped off, the sellsword dashing after. Madelyn scowled and looked away. When Laurie saw this, he frowned again, and this time did not try to curb his temper.
    “He must learn responsibility in these matters,” he said. “Dealing with the other members of the Trifect will do him good.”
    “It’ll do him dead,” Madelyn said. “You send your own son into Veldaren with a single mercenary to guard his back? We’ll find them rotting in the sewers, all because you’d rather camp under stars and save yourself an orc-scrap of coin.”
    “Mind your tongue,” Laurie said.
    For a minute they rode in silence, Laurie’s horse trotting slowly behind the wagon as Madelyn sat with crossed arms atop her cushions. When the wagon halted suddenly, Laurie veered to one side. They’d come to the first of the hills, and slowly the lead riders were heading off into the high grass, moving carefully with men on foot scouting ahead to make sure no holes or sudden dips threatened their wagon wheels.
    “We’re here,” Laurie said. “We’ll have a comfortable camp set up for you in no time.”
    “No you won’t,” Madelyn said. “I’m going home. Our real home.”
    When Laurie glared, she glared back. The man swished his tongue from side to side as if swallowing something distasteful.
    “I will miss you dearly,” he said. “But go to the city if you must. I’ll get you an escort. Two armed men traveling together may not appeal much to the mob, but a gaggle of servant girls and a noble lady in her litter will prove a different matter entirely.”
    He rode away, in a far fouler mood than when he’d returned from the gate.
    Thren led the way, the rest of his guild following, minus Aaron and Senke who were still busy cleaning blood off the floor. They weaved through Merchant Way, their hands for once staying out of foreign pockets. The riots would soon be there.