The Invisible Ring

the wagon by long lead ropes. Since the Gray Lady and Thera had been riding the horses and were inside the wagon, the boy would have some privacy for his tears.
    He studied the pedlar’s wagon for a moment, then shook his head. The Gray Lady and Thera. What a strange pairing.
    “Should we get moving, Lord Jared?” Blaed asked. “I’ll lead the team for this turn.”
    Jared continued to look at the wagon. How much healing Craft would a broken Black Widow know, if she knew any at all? The Gray Lady must have some knowledge of it since she’d done a fair healing on him, but what if she was in too much pain to use that skill on herself? “Let’s wait a few minutes. Then I’ll see if it’s all right.”
    “No reason why the rest of us can’t start walking,” Brock said, hauling Eryk to his feet. “Come on, prick-ass, let’s get started.”
    “Where’s Garth?” Jared asked, scanning the surrounding area. Not that he could see much in this rain.
    “Still lumbering up ahead, I imagine,” Randolf replied, not trying to hide his distaste.
    It wasn’t as easy to break a Blood-Jeweled male—not like the witches, who were vulnerable until their Virgin Night and were still vulnerable each month during the first three days of their moontime. But a darker Jewel could rip open the inner barriers and tear a man’s mind apart, or unleash a tidal wave of power to shatter the inner web and cut a man off from his own strength in much the same way as a witch was broken. Since every slave knew it could happen to him for no better reason than the witch who owned him wanted it done, they didn’t turn their backs on a man because of it.
    But there was a wrongness about Garth, more than the confused, kicked-puppy look in the pale blue eyes that was so at odds with the tall, muscled, barrel-chested body. There was a sliminess to his psychic scent, as if he’d been touched by something tainted.
    Maybe he had. Maybe that’s what had broken him.
    Pity for what had been done to him didn’t make it any easier being around him, though.
    “All right,” Jared said. “What about Corry and Cathryn?”
    “They were just ahead of Brock and me,” Randolf said.
    Brock took a firm hold of Eryk’s arm. “We’ll check on them.”
    After Brock and Randolf started up the road with the reluctant Eryk between them, Jared turned to Thayne. “It’s your turn on one of the saddle horses, isn’t it?”
    Thayne glanced at the wagon and swallowed hard. “If it’s all right with you, I’ll keep Blaed company for a bit.”
    Meaning even the saddle horses were too close to Thera’s temper.
    Nodding his permission, Jared moved far enough away from them to discourage conversation. He took a moment to add a little more power to the Craft shields on his clothing. They did a fairly good job of waterproofing the fabric and keeping the mud and water from seeping into the boots. A little warming spell helped, too. But even with spells and shields, it was impossible not to feel the damp after a while, and if anyone knew a shield-spell that would have kept the rain off their heads, no one had mentioned it.
    Jared took a deep breath, wishing it would settle his churning stomach. Sweet Darkness, don’t let her be hurt badly. Pointless to hope that her arms wouldn’t have bruises the shape of his hands.
    Hurting her made him ache. It shouldn’t have. Hadn’t he crossed that line when he’d killed the last Queen who had owned him?
    It shouldn’t have made him ache. But it did.
    When the rain started yesterday afternoon, the Lady was the one who had told them to use whatever Craft was necessary to stay as dry as possible. She was the one who had put the Craft shields on Tomas’s clothes and had kept an eye on those among them who might not have the power to hold the shields. Even Garth. She was the one who had put some kind of shield-spell on the wagon’s wheels and the horses’ hooves so they wouldn’t sink in the mud.
    And she was the one who had come up with the rotation.
    The rotation was fair. More than fair. Hell’s fire, there were thirteen of them, including the Gray Lady, and four of them were children. She could have let the children ride on the outer seat or inside and let the adults stumble along. She could have let the other females stay in the wagon with her—and slave or not, no Blood male would have argued about it. But she’d worked out this rotation that included everyone so that they all alternated between walking and riding, and everyone had a chance to get out of the rain and