Adhémar ignored her. "You are very protective of a wench who obviously needs no protection."
"Don't mind him," Paien said, waving expansively. "Camid would be just as protective of Glines."
Paien looked at Adhémar with a friendly smile, but Morgan saw the steel beneath it. No doubt Adhémar didn't.
"You're a close group," Adhémar remarked.
"Loyal to the end," Paien agreed.
"Where did you meet?"
"Ah, now that's a tale," Paien said, rubbing his hands together with relish. "I'll tell it as we eat." He looked at the food that had been set down before Morgan, then at her. "Eat, gel."
She thought not. "I ate this morning."
"Very well, I'll eat yours. Now, Adhémar, our meeting was on this wise…"
Morgan listened with only half an ear as Paien described a rainy, miserable evening two years earlier when he had stumbled upon a young lass who'd reminded him of one of his daughters. Feeling protective of her, he'd made certain that she was not accosted in the tavern. When she left to go to the stables, he had followed her, just to make certain she would be safe, but he found there was no need. A group of men surrounded her with evil intent, but they had been dispatched, all four of them, with minimal effort on the girl's part. Paien had bought her a refreshing cup of ale afterward and their friendship had been born.
Camid had been added to that soon after, and Glines as well, once he had fleeced them all in a game or two of chance. Now they noised themselves about as a group, worked when it suited them, and returned to their homes when it didn't.
Morgan didn't mention that she generally took on other, less palatable assignments when the others had gone to their various homes and were putting their feet up in front of their own fires. Of course now she could say nothing, for the luxuries of the university far exceeded anything any of the others could boast of, including Glines, and she had certainly partaken of them fully in the past sennight.
She noticed, as the others ate and recounted tales of glory, that they were being spied upon. There was a young man, likely not a score, sitting on the far side of the chamber, watching them nervously. Morgan looked at him openly and he turned away. She lifted her eyebrow, then shrugged to herself. He looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place him. Perhaps it was one of Nicholas's lads, come to make certain she was safe. She sighed. Judging by the number of escorts he'd sent her in the form of her usual companions, she shouldn't have been surprised to find that was the case.
The platters were taken away and they settled down to an afternoon with mugs of ale and conversation. There came a time, of course, when Glines pulled out his cards and smiled pleasantly. Adhémar grumbled as he investigated the depths of his plundered purse.
Paien leaned over. "He's tolerable," he murmured behind his cup.
"Are you thinking for yourself, or for one of your girls?" she whispered back.
He looked at her with wide eyes, then laughed. "Hard-hearted wench," he said, reaching out to ruffle her hair affectionately. "Someday you will fall."
"Pray you are alive to see it," she grumbled.
"I do, lovey, every night." He chuckled a bit more and turned his attentions to Glines's sleight of hand.
Morgan did the same, marking Glines's quite passable-looking face and his breathtaking cheating, Adhémar's breathtaking face and his less-than-passable gaming?and the lad in the corner who was having a very difficult time blending in with rough company. It was taxing and required her full attention. That was just as well, for it took her mind off what was to come.
Would she be able to get on that ship?
She was beginning to wonder.
Camid finished his ale eventually and set his cup down firmly. "Morgan, where are we off to?"
"Istaur," she said shortly.
"And then where?"
She chewed on her words, considered, then chewed a bit more. "North," she said finally.
"North?" Camid said, his ears perking up. "What mischief are we about? "
"Mischief of mine," she offered, giving them all a very pointed opportunity to thank her for a pleasant afternoon and be on their way, Nicholas's message aside.
"Mischief of yours is trouble of ours," Camid said without hesitation. He stroked his long beard thoughtfully. "North, eh? I can think of many things to do on the way north."
"Aye, well, don't give it so much thought it sours your pleasant humor," Paien said in a friendly fashion. "There will be time enough to discover what Morgan's about and plan your own adventures as well. I daresay Morgan isn't going to tell us until she's ready."
