Her Master's Hand Page 8

  Hoel grinned, even though Anwen looked absolutely mortified. “You’re an honest man, then, aren’t you?”

  Ashcroft blinked, unable to respond any other way. He wasn’t sure if being honest was a compliment yet. “Well, that’s how I’d come to see it. I assure you I was not the one to disrobe her.”

  “Honestly,” he said, “that idea hadn’t even entered my mind. But as to what she is—her race—please do not spread the information. Very few people know, and I would like to keep it that way.”

  “How is it even possible that so few know?” Ashcroft asked, serious. “As youths, sometimes our powers have a mind of their own. Without a proper release of our energy, the powers would bubble up unexpectedly to the surface. I accidentally singed all the fur off the family cat by accident long before I worked out my first spell, and my faction isn’t exactly known for its strength in power. Certainly, something must have happened that the servants or neighbors had seen by now.”

  “About the time Maili was getting reckless, I was about to put that cuff on, anyway,” Hoel sighed, shaking his head. “She became increasingly bold as the years ticked on. Until then, nobody thought to watch her for witchcraft. She doesn’t act like a witch.”

  Ashcroft raised one of his eyebrows. “Excuse me for asking…” he drawled out, though he made note of where the exits in the room were just in case he was not excused. “But, if I may ask… what do you think a witch acts like?”

  Anwen blinked, surprised at the question. “You know,” she said, moving her hand around, answering for her husband, “…self-serving. Caustic. Uncaring. Manipulative.”

  “Ah.” So, they didn’t like the magi because they had a reputation for being evil. It was of course absurd. “You do know that—depending on what faction they hail from, what race, what upbringing—they change in who they are just like anyone else would.” He shrugged. “Even my own brother and I are so different that we’d never been able to measure up to any of the same standards, based on personality alone and the difference of two years between our births.”

  Hoel snorted. “I think I have enough experience to know the gist of a particular race, thank you.”

  Ashcroft narrowed his gaze. “With all due respect—you only have experience with one faction of one race. You’ve certainly never come into contact with one of us in the last millennium.”

  “Are you saying I’m wrong?” Hoel asked, his voice low, deep, and extremely intimidating.

  Ashcroft would have shrugged if his muscles weren’t strung so tightly. “I’m noticing that you think you’re wrong,” he said, though glancing at the sheer size of Hoel’s fists. They could smash his head in with one swing! “Or else you wouldn’t have taken the girl in. I know she’s not of your blood—couldn’t possibly be. So you at least considered, and hoped very deeply, that you were wrong about magi.”

  He then shut up and poked at his eggs with his fork, hoping he would never know what it was like to be punched stupid by one of those big, gigantic, demigod hands. He waited for it, but it never came.

  Suddenly, a small, slight giggle gave him the curiosity to raise his head back up. Lady Anwen was glancing at her husband, her fingers spread across her mouth. Hoel scowled at her, but there was something about it that didn’t seem serious. Anwen finally put her hand on Hoel’s and said, “It’s alright to like him, darling. You know you want to.”

  Hoel suddenly gave a laugh so loud that it startled Ashcroft into dropping his fork. “Fine then. I suppose there’s a first for everything.”

  Chapter Six

  So far, it had been a good morning for Maili. First of all, she was sleeping alone in her own bed, had been awoken by her own maids and then of course reawakened by those maids a half-hour later after she’d fallen back asleep. It was better than being on the road with Damen.

  On that same note, Damen wasn’t in her room at all. Hopefully, while they were out looking for her, he accidentally showed his true self to Hoel, who pummeled him into tiny little bits.

  A girl could dream, anyway.

  Then again, she normally was optimistic right before she faced a severe punishment from Hoel, because optimism was a better sensation than fear. Over the last twenty years, she had sort of trained herself into looking on the bright side. Maybe he wouldn’t punish her. Maybe he would believe her. Maybe he would see everything her way and wouldn’t make her marry anyone ever again.

  When she made her way down to the dining room, she stood in the doorway for a moment, surprised. Hoel was actually… laughing. He was looking over some tome he had put on the table and was nearly butting heads with the damned wizard, of all people! She rubbed her hand over her eyes to make certain that they weren’t playing tricks on her.

  At least he seemed like he was in a good mood. Damen wasn’t sitting around the table, and every moment Damen wasn’t about was a precious moment, indeed!

  She was able to get her breakfast from the sideboard without even being noticed until she sat down on the left side of Anwen, who looked up from where she was writing something down within her ledger. “Good morning,” Anwen said, her green eyes filled with judgment.

  That judgment wasn’t very fair. Her bottom still pulsed, and even felt like it was tightening, simply from being around the woman. Normally a punishment was followed swiftly by forgiveness. This probably meant that her punishment wasn’t considered to be over just yet. Goody, goody—more to look forward to.

  “Good morning, mama,” she said, trying to get comfortable in her seat.

  Hoel finally looked up from his tome and focused his golden eyes on her. It made Maili want to melt herself right out of existence.

  He stood tall, like he needed to. He filled up the room quite well even when he had been leaning over the table. “Well,” he began, putting his hands on his hips.

  “Before you start,” Maili said, putting up her hand. “I would like to say something.”

  “An apology?” he ascertained.

  He had to be joking. She gave him an exasperated look to assure him that she didn’t appreciate it. “No, an explanation. Not that anyone will let me have my say. My word seems to be worthless. Did your little friend there tell you what happened?” She jerked her chin toward the wizard, whose brow wrinkled. Apparently he wasn’t called ‘little’ very often. Well, the man better get used to it; that’s all anyone ever was next to Hoel. There was a reason why they called him ‘the great Hoel.’

  Hoel looked extremely tired all of a sudden. He rubbed his clawed fingers over his eyes.

  “I didn’t exactly want to mix your words with my own,” Ashcroft replied, and sipped his coffee.

  She gave him a quick glare, and then looked at Hoel. “Fine. Then I’ll tell you. I left because Damen is an evil wizard with a false face. He wants to use me for some evil purpose, he told me so himself.”

  Hoel took a deep breath. Anwen was the one who chided her sharply. “Maili, that is enough. We’ve had enough with your ridiculous stories.”

  “If only it was one of those!” she snapped back. “I’m telling the truth! Papa, I know I’ve been a pain about this entire arrangement, and I wouldn’t have liked him anyway, but I guarantee you that I have a reason not to like him now.” Her lips puckered with frustration when Anwen and Hoel exchanged frustrated glances. She slapped her hand down on the table—which she never had done before, and she was both surprised by how much that hurt her hand and how noisy it was—and said, “Look here! He tried to rape me! He choked me! He slapped my face!” Every word made them glare even more at her. “I am not joking!”

  Since they looked more displeased about the way she slapped her hand down on the table than the rape and abuse allegations, she suddenly had to assume that they were both old-fashioned enough not to give a bother what a husband did with his wife.

  “He has been more than patient about finally taking you to bed, so I will have enough. Do you hear? Enough, Maili!” Hoel boomed, and Maili’s heart felt like it fell out of place and ploppe
d right down into her stomach. “You are in enough trouble. If you continue to spread these filthy fantasies of yours, then you will find your mouth washed out from them. You are already destined for sitting on a pillow for the rest of the foreseeable future.”

  Maili’s cheeks heated instantly, but she wasn’t surprised; she was furious, frustrated, and humiliated. For some reason, him referring to her future posterior discomfort was every bit as humiliating—more so, in fact—as when Hoel said in front of a ballroom full of guests that she knew where her paddle was kept.

  She felt her throat clench, and the food in front of her now looked not appetizing at all even though she had been starving when she came into the room.

  She put down her napkin on the table and began to stand.

  “I didn’t give you permission to leave. You’re not finished,” Hoel told her, pointing at her plate. “Sit.”

  She didn’t. She stared at Hoel, angry and hurt.

  He stared right back with resolve.

  There was certainly a nuance here that hadn’t escaped her. She had built this mistrust through years of letting them give her their faith and then she’d most always do something that made them feel foolish about giving it to her in the first place. If given time, she would waste it; if given a special object, she would break it; if told to do something important, she’d forget about it. If she was asked for a good excuse, she’d lie and create one.

  And for some reason she never thought her actions were ever going to come back and bite her. She always thought that her foster parents’ trust was like their love—unconditional. She thought their trust would continue to flow through the ages like some sort of mystical manna.

  “Believe me,” she begged, her voice a low whisper, “please.”

  “Bring me the cane,” he replied, and settled the matter. They would never believe her; every word she said was just her telling a story, crying wolf.

  Instead of resolving herself to the misery behind that particular truth, however, was her shock in his decree. The cane? There was no way that Hoel would ever cane her. He would never hurt her that way! He used to say that she was too little… And she certainly was no bigger in any way than when he’d first said that!

  “Hoel, don’t hurt her,” Anwen said gently, rubbing her hand soothingly over his bared forearm. “Besides, I punished her last night before you returned.”

  “Not enough!” Hoel turned to her. “This behavior is humiliating! The only thing I kept telling myself yesterday is how incredibly sorry I was that King Vanguard will have to put up with her, and he has no idea what he’s in for, because then he would run the other way as fast as his legs could carry him!” He turned to Ashcroft.

  Ashcroft looked a little taken aback even to be looked at during this discussion.

  “You deal with apprentices and wards constantly, don’t you? The cane’s not overly harsh when it comes to someone like her, is it?” he asked, beckoning Ashcroft’s support.

  Ashcroft turned back to him and said, “I imagine that in your case, corporal discipline is extremely difficult for you to do properly. You have to be holding back so much just to make sure you don’t hurt her. The cane is something difficult for someone my size to use on someone around her size without breaking the skin. If I were you, I wouldn’t dare it. I couldn’t imagine you would ever forgive yourself if you drew blood. I’m not saying that she might not deserve a firm chastisement, but nothing that would make her fear you. You wouldn’t want that.”

  “So ‘yes,’” Hoel gathered with a disgruntled sigh, then he looked at Maili. “Go to my study.” He pointed a claw in the direction of the door.

  Maili slumped with relief. When she glanced at Ashcroft, who was really her damned savior and she knew it, he didn’t seem to give her a supportive I’m-on-your-side look. He gave her a look that made her feel like a silly child.

  She squinted as the strangest feeling of deja vu washed over her. She had to shake it off before she left the room. She wasn’t silly enough to go right to the study, of course; she stayed just outside the door to hear their conversation and hoped that Hoel or Anwen wouldn’t embarrass her further.

  “…are you sure she’s not…” Ashcroft was saying to them, “…are you sure… are you sure that she doesn’t believe what happened to her? I’m not saying it actually happened, but you know, there are some factions of witch that have more of a tendency toward madness than the others. If I could deduce what faction she hails from, maybe—”

  It felt like Ashcroft had, with his concern, tied a string around her guts and yanked as hard as he could. She wanted to go and crawl into the fetal position. She didn’t linger around for Hoel or Anwen’s response. She walked slowly toward Hoel’s study, found one of his oversized recliners, crawled onto it, and pulled her arms around her knees.

  Hopeless. This was hopeless. What could she do to avoid a fate tied with Damen now? She couldn’t talk Hoel into believing her—he trusted Damen more than he trusted her! She couldn’t run away; tried that. Hoel was too important; nobody would honor loyalty to her over loyalty to Hoel.

  She pressed her hand to her face, finally letting out a forlorn sob. She was a prisoner awaiting execution!

  A large hand suddenly draped over her head. She figured that Hoel thought the touch would make her feel better, but it didn’t. “Maili, don’t cry…” he sighed. He stroked back her hair. “You know I didn’t mean to scare you with the cane.”

  The man was clueless. She cried harder.

  “Maili.” Hoel came over, picked her up, and set her on his lap in a quick movement, like one might move a kitten. She was a doll in comparison to Hoel, no bigger than a small child. She remembered her earliest memories were spent cowering from him, thinking he was going to squash her by accident.

  He corralled her on his massive lap and held her tightly to him within his strong embrace. It only really offered a nice, warm, secure place to think about her impending doom under Damen. He would get her back for stabbing him in the neck, first of all. After that, he would probably chain her to a wall and force her to eat from a cat dish…

  “Maili, what can I do to get you to just behave and do what I wish? Tell me what to do, because I’m lost,” he begged.

  “Believe me!” she cried, frustrated, tightening her hands into fists.

  She expected him to pick her off his lap and lay her over his knees before pulling up her skirt’s hem, pulling down her underclothes, and warming her up with his hands while he decided what, if any, implements to redden her bottom with.

  But instead he picked her up and turned her around on his lap so he looked right at her. She found herself putting one of her knees on each side of him, then he kissed her on her forehead. “I’m not going to let our time together end with nothing but angry words and tears, little one, so I’ll make a bargain with you.”

  She blinked back some tears. Bargains were good sometimes…

  “I will ask Ashcroft to stay until Damen returns—Damen had to go to fix some unrest out east and will return in about a fortnight, I suspect. Ashcroft believes he could do a test to expose Damen as a wizard—if that is what he truly is. Do you believe this?”

  She swallowed and nodded. She did believe it; Ashcroft had seemed confident earlier, but she didn’t think Hoel would actually allow him to stay or inspect Damen, who he had always been so excited to have as a son-in-law. The idea had been enough to keep her from trying to hurt Ashcroft while he was taking her back, but that was still because she was hopeful she hadn’t completely over-exasperated the people who’d taken her in nearly two decades ago. Apparently they were tapped out of patience.

  “So if Ashcroft gives him the all-clear, can you promise me that you’ll drop this song and dance, un-dig your heels, apologize to Damen for all this embarrassment to him, and go quietly and sweetly to his kingdom where you’ll attempt to live a happily ever after with him?”

  A happily ever after? “I’m not making it up! He is really what I said.”

/>   “Yes, but Ashcroft made a good point—some women become a little… nervous during wedding nights. Perhaps your mind was playing tricks on you.” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

  She raised an eyebrow, trying to give him a dubious look. He grunted. “It’s possible, Maili,” he said in a warning tone, and the warning was that she really needed to start agreeing to something.

  She puffed out a sigh. “Yes, it’s possible. But that’s not what happened.”

  “When Ashcroft decrees Damen isn’t an evil wizard, I want you to really grasp that possibility as the reality it is.”

  “And ditto to you when Ashcroft sees that Damen is an evil wizard.”

  He frowned at her, but eventually the line of his mouth twitched upward. He finally sighed and tapped the tip of her nose with his finger. “You are a stubborn little thing.”

  She grinned. Her morning was suddenly right back to being a good one.

  * * *

  Little brothers were always the greatest bother. Oh, some of his high school friends could get away with one that wasn’t too pesky, but those were closer to their own age, and would at least keep off their boots!

  Cole had a date with a girl, for God’s sake, but that was completely ruined, now. He had to call her and explain that his brother was having a fit and wouldn’t let Cole out of his sight.

  He thought he might have had a good reprieve, it being a Saturday and Samuel normally would be busy watching cartoons all morning.

  Alas, mater and father being gone became the world’s largest upset to Samuel, who wouldn’t even sleep by himself and now he proceeded to wake up at the exact same time as Cole, who had done chores and all of his studies and he was quite sick of it.

  “Samuel,” he grumbled as he dressed. “I’m going into town. Stop following me. See if Naomi will make you some sort of cake or something.”