Ussin shifted in his saddle.Orval was not making it easy for the man.Jerrold had to admire him.The Lord High Baron was strong in his own way.
Orval continued.“Amari sets a fine table.”He cleared his throat.“But she won’t be able to join us.The twins have the croup and she’s in the nursery dealing with them.”
Hisself was not the best of liars, but Ussin seemed to take the news at its face.“Long ride to the Keep, as I remember,” Ussin said.
“Oh, we’re not in the Keep,” Orval said.“We’ve a manor house, with farm lands attached.The Keep is under repairs, which will take some time, well, you saw it, when you…delivered us.What with all the craftsmen in the quarry, rebuilding the ramps, and what with Amari expecting again, we couldn’t have the babes crawling in the debris.”
“A manor?”Ussin asked.“No walls?”
“No walls, but acres of land, and gardens,” Orval kept talking, keeping the goats at a steady pace.“Mistress Rosalind will be waiting the nooning for us.She said something about bean soup and fresh bread.”
“Ah,” Ussin said.
Jerrold knew that tone.The sound of every man who had to face a disgruntled woman.
Jerrold managed to hide his smile.That might be a sight worth seeing, having Rosalind’s ire directed at someone else for a change.
And she did make a fine bean soup.
He’d meant to break off where the roads met, if no troubles had emerged.His watchers wouldn’t follow them to the manor.There were other watchers there.The Lady High Baroness and the children were safe with Mother B, behind stout walls in Waerington.Cirda and Dayva were there as well, guarding them.He was to take word to them.
But he hesitated as they approached the crossroads, his thumb prickling.
Just then, Ussin glanced back over his shoulder then, not looking at Jerrold, looking at his men, as if…
As if thinking they wouldn’t obey him.
The Lord High Baron must have seen his hesitation.“Jerrold, you’d be more than welcome to join us.”Orval called.
“Aye,” Jerrold said.“Think I will.”
Chapter Forty
The Black Hills
Ussin let Jerrold take the lead and kept his horse close to the goat cart as they headed down the road.At least the Sculptor and his lot were delivered.That much of the King’s command had been accomplished.
He hadn’t been too sure at first, what with the two old men fighting each other tooth and nail.But the Mayor had seemed confident enough, even if Orval had been dismayed.
Not one for using his fists to resolve disputes, was Orval.
The Mayor now, he had the look of a man who could handle himself.No armor, but a dagger at his side.And it didn’t escape Ussin that the Mayor’s horse was battle-trained.It hadn’t flicked an ear when the yelling started.
Of course, neither had the goats.
Now the Mayor was to join them for a meal, and wasn’t that something, that the folk of the Black Hills didn’t seem intent on killing them outright.Ussin hadn’t considered Orval’s chances too good when he’d escorted the cripple and the others to the Keep.But here he was, seemingly well-established.
As to his own mission, all well and good so far.Yet Ussin wasn’t too sure about the rest of his orders.He glanced back at his men again.All seemed well, but that itch still burned at the back of his neck.He faced forward, listening with half an ear to Orval’s rambling.Time to learn more.
And not about the history of marble quarrying.Ussin cleared his throat and moved his horse in closer to the cart.“Mistress Winter sends her greetings,” he said.
There was a pause, then Orval gave him a side-look and raised an eyebrow.“She’s forgiven you, then?”
Ussin grunted at that dagger thrust.One he deserved, most like.
“She fares well?”Orval continued
“She does,” Ussin said, not quite willing to share all the details of what was happening between him and the Lady.Especially when he wasn’t sure himself.“She was happy to hear from you, and wishes both you and the Lady High Baroness well.”
