Chapter Twenty

Det woke when Loralie left his embrace. He watched her go, assuming correctly that she probably needed to answer the call of nature. She'd been unconscious for a long time. It was morning outside, he knew, from his quick check in with Gren. Det got up and rekindled the fire, planning to make tea.

"They've set up a camp of sorts, down at the manor. Some of the mages came in and brought helpers and supplies with them to feed everyone, since we're going to be here for a while. They also needed to feed the prisoners and discuss what to do with them," Gren reported as Det made the tea. "You can get a hearty breakfast down at the house, if you like. I think Loralie needs better nourishment than camp fare, don't you? She used a lot of her personal reserves of energy yesterday."

"But what will the men say? And you said the mages have descended?" Det could just imagine the reception Loralie would get from his people.

"Word has been spreading about what she did and how Leasharra stood with her. I think you may be surprised. At the very least, you should try, heartmate. If there is to be any future for your little family—you and Loralie and the twins—you need to begin somewhere. The longer you wait, the harder it may become."

"I'll talk to her," Det replied, resigned. Gren had a good point. If Loralie was going to earn the respect of his folk, she would have to start somewhere. If not for her own sake, then for the twins.

Loralie came back from the private area of the cave, and he got a better look at her in the light coming in from outside. She was paler than usual and had a hollow-eyed look after expending so much energy in the mage battle. Gren was right. As usual. Loralie needed to eat better than what he could manage over a campfire.

"I made tea," he offered, testing her mood this morning. He held out her mug to her, and she took it in both hands. He noted the slight tremor in her fingers. She was weak and trying to hide it.

"Thank you," she said softly before drinking deeply of the restorative beverage. The blend of herbs he'd made this morning was something soldiers used to perk up and keep going, though he knew a hearty breakfast would do even better.

"Gren tells me that reinforcements have flown in from the enclave, including cooks and more supplies. Seems we have to feed not only ourselves, but the prisoners as well. If you wouldn't mind flying down with me and Gren, we could break our fast there."

She looked uncertain and a bit…scared? He wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't seen it for himself. His Loralie was never scared. At least not often.

Det tried a different tack. "I could really use your help going through Gebel's personal effects. There could be something dangerous there. Magical artifacts. Spell books. Who knows? If you wouldn't mind taking a look, I'd be very grateful."

Now, she looked thoughtful. Good. He liked that expression much better than her fear.

"If you think my presence won't cause more trouble. I don't want to incite your people to anger or dissent among their ranks," she said in a soft tone that held a hint of both regret and embarrassment.

"I think not," he said decisively. "Not after what they all saw you do yesterday. The warriors are…if not already on your side, at least thinking about what they witnessed and the fact that Leasharra stood with you. The dragons have all changed their tune, according to Gren. Leasharra's testimony as to how she first encountered you went a long way. And Penny, though a child, has told the truth as she knows it when asked, making many of the regular folk—especially those of my family—think twice about what we had all assumed. The evidence we now have all points in your favor, and attitudes are beginning to change. I think, if you put in an appearance and agree to help me with the removal of any magical items we might find in the manor, that would help as well."

"It won't be easy to convince them that I'm not the ogre everyone believes." She looked away.

"If nothing else, we can at least pick up some food there and eat it elsewhere, if you are too uncomfortable in the presence of my people," Det said. "Let's try it and see. If we encounter difficulties with anyone or anything, Gren will take us back here. Otherwise, we can eat and then take a look at anything Gebel might have left behind."

Slowly, she nodded. "I guess you're right," she admitted finally. "Let me get a few things packed, and then, we can go down and see what can be seen."

Det breathed a sigh of relief as she began packing a bag. To his surprise, she was bringing clothing. Then, he realized the house probably had bathing facilities. She would be smart to take advantage of such amenities, if she could. Not that she was dirty, but she had not had any sort of creature comforts in her life in a very long time from all accounts. If he could arrange it, he would see to it that she got not just a bath, but one filled with bubbles and luxury.

"What about the pacas?" she asked as soon as she finished packing.

"I'll send someone up here to take them out for some exercise," he told her. "Or, if we end up staying down there, I can have them brought down."

She shrugged. "Fair enough. Though let's see what happens first."

"As you wish, milady," he replied, giving her a smile.

When they reached the manor house, it was with little fanfare. The prisoners were being held in one of the barns farthest from the house, and only Det's men were in the courtyard. None of them did much more than wave hello as Det and Loralie made their way into the manor house. Gren went off to confer with some of the other dragons and do his own tour of inspection, or so Det told her.

Loralie went into the house on Det's arm, noting that Gebel, in his tomb of ice, was right where she'd left him the day before. She didn't feel like gloating, but the relief coursing through her was strong. As they entered through the large doors, she felt the warmth in the house, coming from two massive fireplaces, one on either side of the large entry hall. Both had fires roaring in them, and a woman came to greet them.

"Captain, there is food in the main hall, and nothing of the mage's has been touched, by your orders," she reported, taking their cloaks.

"Thank you, Marthana."

The young woman was dressed in leather flight gear more common to the warriors, but she was acting the role of a servant, Loralie observed. She was deferential to Det, but then again, he was the Captain of the Guard and a member of the Council of Elders. Loralie hadn't quite understood just how important Detlif was in his homeland when they'd had their fling.

A miscalculation on her part, though to be fair, she hadn't really been thinking at all when they'd been together the first time. The only thing on her mind was him and how he made her feel. She'd been escaping her role as Guardian for those forbidden moments in his arms. She hadn't known much about him, and she hadn't revealed much about herself to him. They'd just been two people, sharing their bodies and bringing each other pleasure the likes of which she had never known.

But reality had intruded, and now, things were very different. The woman, Marthana, took Loralie's cloak with no comment and walked away. Det touched Loralie's elbow and guided her forward.

"Let's get something to eat first," he suggested, and she was inclined to agree. She needed to refuel after the power drain of yesterday's battle. Food first, then an investigation of whatever Gebel might have left behind.

They walked into a large room that was clearly the main hall Marthana had mentioned. Platters of food were lined up along one long table near the hearth, and the tables were filled with people breaking their fasts. Everyone looked up when they entered, and Loralie tried her best to stand up straight under their scrutiny. She couldn't bear to meet anyone's eyes, lest she find contempt there. Instead, she held herself stiffly and followed Det's moves toward the buffet.

They filled plates with breakfast foods. Loralie took more than she would usually eat, because everything looked really good and her stomach was rumbling with hunger. Det chose an empty table set somewhat away from the others, and they sat down and began eating. She was very hungry and applied herself to the food for a good few minutes before looking up as someone came over to their table.

It was Michael, the young mage with the peculiar talent of remote hearing. He smiled at them both, and she could see he was holding a plate in his hands. Did he want to join their table?

"Sit down, Michael. Good morrow to you," Det said in a friendly tone. "What news do you have from the mages?"

"There are only a few of us here, and most of the others are now asleep. They kept watch by night with your brother and the other Scouts," he said, lowering his plate to the table and then sitting down. "But I was asked to report their progress. All of the land inside the gates, the outbuildings, and the common areas of this manor house have been checked for magical traps. Only a few were found and sprung. However, the part of the house that the mage, Gebel, claimed as his own has dark glyphs they dared not cross without your permission, since you had left instruction not to intrude on Gebel's private domain."

"Excellent," Det replied as they all continued to eat. Loralie was listening, but content to let the men talk, for now. Besides, she was just too hungry to stop and chat. "We plan to investigate after breakfast. Perhaps you can be our guide to the area?"

"Yes, sir. And if possible, Mage Enrad, who leads the mage contingent on this mission, asked if I might be permitted to observe. He is sleeping after a long night watch, but he thought at least one of our number should bear witness to what might be found in this house."

Det nodded, as if expecting such a request and met Loralie's gaze. "If it is agreeable with Lady Loralie, then I have no objection."

Michael looked at her imploringly, and she shrugged. "I don't mind," she replied in a quiet voice. "Just promise to follow my instructions, if you will. It is possible Gebel had access to more forbidden magic than I knew about. We will have to tread lightly."

"Yes, milady," Michael answered immediately. "I promise to follow your instructions to the letter."

Michael happily turned his attention to his breakfast as Det asked him a few more questions about how the night watch went for the mages. Loralie listened and felt a bit of unease at how matter-of-fact the young mage was being. Was his nonchalant attitude an artifact of his youth or were Det's people really willing to give her the benefit of the doubt? She didn't dare get her hopes up, but some of her fear of rejection lessened with Michael's easy acceptance.

Nobody else spoke to them as they ate. In fact, the hall was rather quiet for the number of people gathered there. Then again, it was very early, and this hall was strange to the folk of Det's enclave. They had also fought a battle just outside yesterday and had been working hard ever since. The people she saw looked tired, and few smiled. They were simply refueling to get back to work. As she was.

As she ate much more than she usually did, she thought she could actually feel her energy being restored. She wasn't at full strength, but she certainly would have enough power to deal with whatever evil glyphs or traps Gebel might have left. She was much stronger than he was, after all. His traps—even if fueled by forbidden knowledge—could only be as strong as he was. Generally, her mother had taught her early on, the spell was never stronger than the one who cast it.

Boy, she hoped that was right. Who knew what Skir had shared with Gebel in order to string him along and gain his cooperation?

Once they'd finished eating, Michael was kind enough to take all of their empty plates back to the kitchen. He met them at the door to the hall and then led them up the main staircase to the second floor. Loralie began to feel a sort of mild malevolence that increased as they walked down one of the more ornate hallways.

"I feel it," she said softly, slowing her steps. "Walk carefully now," she advised, stepping in front of Det and Michael and motioning for them to stay behind her.

Stopping abruptly, she felt more than saw the barrier the other mages must have sensed. Loralie gathered a small amount of power and tested the edges of the ward.

"This could rebound," she warned the men behind her. "Michael, do you know how to ward yourself?"

"Yes, milady. I will do so," he replied at once.

"Good," she replied, concentrating on what she was sensing from Gebel's barrier. "Det, stay right behind me, and my ward will cover you as well. Just in case."

"Yes, milady." He put his hand on her waist, squeezing once as he answered. Why did the simple words sound so sexy coming from his mouth?

She shook her head. She couldn't allow herself to become distracted. Not when evil magic was in play. Gathering her power once more, she launched her pinprick of attack, and the barrier popped like a soap bubble going down the drain. In this case, the power that had been behind the barrier drained away into the ground, harmlessly flowing away.

"It's gone," Michael said, a question in his tone as he regarded her handiwork.

"Yes, it is," she agreed, standing a bit taller with her success. "But that doesn't mean there aren't more challenges ahead. We can move forward, but slowly. If you can maintain your ward without draining your reserves too much, that might be a good idea."

"Yes, milady. I can do that. Probably for about an hour," Michael replied.

He must be stronger than she'd thought, but then, his special ability was like nothing she'd ever encountered before. She didn't know quite what to make of Michael, but he seemed a pleasant soul, and frankly, she was glad to have him along. If Det's people needed proof of her intent, Michael could at least attest to what he would see of this little adventure.

They made slow progress down the hallway but didn't encounter anything further until they reached the door to the largest bedchamber in the manor house. Typical. This would be the room Gebel chose to inhabit, she was sure. Only the best for the usurper lord of this manor. She shook her head at his pomposity. Little man always wanted to be bigger and badder than he really was. Skir and his forbidden knowledge had allowed that situation to go on much too long.

The trap on the door was a bit more intense, but Loralie disarmed it handily, and then, they were inside the room. Gebel's inner sanctum. Of course, he'd only just moved into this place, but he'd already put his stamp on it. His possessions were strewn around the room, and she located three more sources of potential trouble, neutralizing them all, one by one.

That's when she saw the book. A book that looked very familiar to her.