Jim Butcher - Furies of Calderon

Aldrick grunted assent. "And what if we don't? What if he's already gone off to Garrison to warn the local Count?"

Fidelias grimaced and looked around. "I grew up on a steadholt, and you'd never keep something like that a secret. If that's what has happened, we'll hear about it when everyone gathers in."

"But what if-"

"We've borrowed trouble enough," Fidelias sighed. He shook his head and slapped Aldrick's arm gently, releasing him. "If the boy has already left, the storm will be as dangerous to him as anyone. We'll catch him, and the result will be the same." His eyes glittered. "But Aldrick. Why don't you take Odiana out to make sure the horses are all right? I'll handle things in here, and if there's killing to be done, I'll let you know who and where."

Aldrick frowned down at him. "You sure about this? In here by yourself- what if you need help?"

"I won't," Fidelias assured him. "Go on to the stables. Make it clear that you're looking for a bit of privacy. I'm sure they'll let a couple of newlywed travelers have it."

Aldrick arched his brows. "Newlywed?"

The water witch's eyes smoldered. Odiana flashed a smile to Fidelias, then turned to Aldrick with a sway of her hips and took one of his hands in hers. She kissed his fingers as she walked backward, toward the doors to the

hall. "I'll explain it to you, love. Let's go find the stables. There will be hay there. Would you like to see the hay in my hair?"

Aldrick's eyes narrowed, and he let out a low and not unpleased sound. "Ah." He started out, keeping hold of Odiana's hands. "I knew there was a reason I liked working with you, old man."

"Just be listening," Fidelias warned quietly.

The witch nodded and replied, "Keep a cup in your hands, and drink in the cup. I'll hear." Then she and the swordsman vanished toward the stone stables.

No sooner had they left than Fidelias heard a heavy tread on the stairs leading down into the hall, and the Steadholder appeared again, his face set in something between a frown and a scowl. He looked around and said, "Sorry about that. Just had to take care of someone hurt."

"Ah," said Fidelias, studying the man. He stepped with the faintest trace of hesitation on his left side, as though it pained him slightly to do so. If he had been wounded, as Atsurak had indicated, then the wound had been crafted shut-which meant that a reasonably powerful watercrafter resided in the steadholt as well. "Nothing too bad, I hope."

The man shook his head and said, "Nothing we can't handle." He extended a hand to several seats by the fire. "Sit down, sit down. Let me get you a cup of something hot."

Fidelias murmured a thanks and settled down by the fire with the large man. "Steadholder… Bernard, I assume?"

"Just Bernard, sir."

"Please. Just Del."

The Steadholder half-smiled. "Del. So what brings you out to Garrison this late in the year, Del?"

"Business," Fidelias replied. "I represent a group of investors who fronted several prospectors money to locate gems in the wilderness over the summer. They should be coming back in, with the weather turning worse, and we'll see what they've found."

Bernard nodded. "I thought you had a couple more with you. Where did your friends go?"

Fidelias gave him a warm grin and a wink. "Ah yes. My guardsman is a newlywed, and I let him bring his wife with him. They went out to check on the horses."

The Steadholder gave Fidelias a polite smile. "To be young again, eh?"

Fidelias agreed, "My days of creeping off to stables with blushing maids are long past."

"The storm's coming in. I want to have everyone here in the hall, just to be safe."

Fidelias nodded. "I'm sure they'll be along in a little while."

The Steadholder nodded. "See to it that they are. I'll have no one harmed while under my roof."

Fidelias detected a slight edge to the words, one the Steadholder himself probably wasn't aware of. His instincts twinged, a low and subtle alarm lending an edge of tension to him, but he nodded and smiled and said, "Of course."

"If you'll excuse me, then. I need to make the rounds and make sure everything's secured before the storm comes down."

"Of course. Again, thank you for your hospitality. If I can be of any assistance to you, let me know."

Bernard grunted and rose, his expression preoccupied. Fidelias watched the man carefully, but could read little of him through his body language. Tense, to be sure, but wouldn't any Steadholder be, when facing a threat to his holders? He carried his leg stiffly, still, as he moved out of the hall and into the courtyard, and just before he left, the big man glanced over his shoulder, toward a staircase in the far corner of the hall.

Fidelias watched him and waited until the Steadholder had left the hall to glance at the staircase himself. Interesting.

A moment later, a pretty young girl brought a steaming mug out to Fidelias's seat by the fire, presenting it to him with a slight curtsey. "Sir."

He smiled at her and accepted the mug. "Thank you, young lady. But please, call me Del."

She smiled at him, a winsome expression. "My name is Beritte, sir-Del."

"A lovely name for a lovely girl." He sipped at the drink, a tea he vaguely recognized. "Mmmm, wonderful. I suppose you've had an interesting few days here, with the storm and all that's happened."

She nodded, folding her hands in front of her and inhaling just enough to let her bodice round out her young breasts. "Between all the excitement yesterday and then last night, it's been one thing after another. Though I suppose it isn't anything compared to the life of a gem merchant, sir."

His eyebrows lifted, and he said, letting a small smile touch his mouth,

"I don't remember mentioning that to you, Beritte. I thought I was alone with the Steadholder."

Her cheeks colored bright scarlet. "Oh, sir-I'm sorry. I've a little wind-crafting you see and…"

"And you listened in?" he suggested.

"We so seldom have visitors to Bernardholt, sir," the girl said. She looked up, her eyes direct. "I'm ever so interested in new, exciting people."

Who are wealthy gem merchants, Fidelias thought wryly. "Completely understandable. Though honestly, from the things I've heard…" He leaned closer to her, looking left and right. "Was the Steadholder really hurt yesterday?"

The girl knelt down beside the chair, leaning toward him just enough to let him see the curve of her bosom should he look down. "Yes, and it was terrible. He was so pale that when Fade-Fade's our idiot, sir, the poor man- first dragged him in here, I thought the Steadholder was dead. And then Kord and his sons went mad, and the Steadholders all set to fighting one another with their furies." Her eyes gleamed. "I've never seen anything like it. Perhaps later, after dinner, you'd like to hear more about it."

Fidelias nodded, meeting her eyes. "That sounds very exciting, Beritte. And the boy? Was he hurt as well?"

The girl blinked at him for a moment, expression confused, and then asked, blankly, "Tavi, sir? Is that who you mean?"

"I'd only heard there was a boy hurt as well."

"Oh… I suppose you mean Tavi, then, but he's no one. And even though he's the Steadholder's nephew, we don't really like to talk about him very much, sir. He and simple Fade."

"The boy's an idiot as well?"

"Oh, he's clever enough, I suppose-just as Fade is handy enough with a smith's hammer. But he's never going to be much more than Fade is." She leaned closer to him, so that her breasts pressed against his arm, and whispered importantly, "He's furyless, sir."

"Entirely?" Fidelias tilted his head, holding his cup where he could be sure his voice would strike the drink within it squarely. "I've never heard of such a thing. Do you think I could meet him?"