Chapter Twenty-Three

Sam felt the scrutiny once again turned on him, but he was made of stern stuff. He could handle a few stares, uncomfortable as it made him.

“You also need to know that Mistress Isolde is listening in to our conference via Lord Salveer and Lady Shera.” Sam looked at them all, making his point. “Indeed, if she were not injured, she properly should have been included in these discussions. Her information is vital and valuable. She has the best information network anywhere, and we are foolish if we don’t use it when it’s offered so freely. She wants to find the criminal behind these assassination attempts as much as we do, and frankly, she has a better chance of actually gathering the information we need to do so. It is her specialty, after all.”

“She was not excluded due to her injury,” the King said, and Sam’s heart dropped. What was he saying? Did he not trust Isolde? Why? “I am merely sticking to the agreement we made when she and I first met. I did not want to draw attention to her by summoning her to the castle. I agree that her information could be of great importance to us, and I’ve been foolish not to ask for her counsel before this.” Sam’s heart rose again. The King did trust Isolde. All was well. “As it happens,” Alric went on, “we now have a very easy route for the passing of information since Lilly’s new healing hall is right next door to Isolde’s glass shop.” The King smiled, and Sam had to wonder if the placement of Lilly and Luc in that neighborhood hadn’t been a well-conceived plan from the beginning. “Lady Shilayla, please tell Luc and Lilly to go home to the healing hall and get some rest. We need to restart our investigation where it should have started all along. With help from our friend, Isolde.”

“Now they’re talking,” Isolde’s comment nearly made Sam laugh, but he controlled his expression by force of will.

“If the dragons don’t mind continuing to act as go-betweens, I can relay Isolde’s thoughts to you right now,” Sam offered. “We need not delay further.”

The King looked at Salveer. “Is it any strain to you, Lord Salveer?”

“No, my liege. Since our bond is wide open, the energy flows are easy to manage, and it is no strain to act as a bridge between Shera and Isolde to Samnir.”

Sam didn’t know how it all worked, but he was glad it wasn’t a strain for his new dragon partner. He’d never do anything to endanger or take unfair advantage of Salveer if he could help it.

“Which is why I chose you, Sam,” Salveer reminded him privately. “You care about people…and dragons. You don’t see me as some kind of creature. You see me as a friend, as I see you. A brother. A comrade in arms. You’d be surprised how rare that is. Now, let’s get this meeting started. Isolde has a lot to say.”

For the next quarter hour, Sam relayed what Isolde told him about her observations as reported to her by her spy network and apprentices, of the court nobles. She gave detailed information on just about every candidate rich enough to be able to hire such costly assassins, as well as the source of their riches and any recent upsets in their families, lands, or habits.

Sam was amazed by the detail Isolde had been able to glean and the organized way in which she made her report. She really was something else and his admiration for her only grew. She was so much more than just a pretty face with a talent for glassmaking. She was a force to be reckoned with, if only people realized it.

But to this point, she’d kept her other abilities under wraps. That might be changing now though. Since she had acted so very openly today and on a few other notable occasions, and the dragons had singled out her shop for play, she was becoming something of a celebrity. They’d have to come up with a strategy to deal with that while still keeping her secret role as spymaster safe.

Of course, she’d probably already thought about that. Sam would have to talk with her privately in order to find out what she’d decided to do.

“Much better,” Salveer advised Sam quietly, during a lull. “I don’t know much about females yet, but all the older males seem to think consulting them on what they want to do is paramount to a happy relationship.”

Sam almost laughed but kept his amusement to himself. “I’ll take that under consideration,” he assured Salveer in a dry tone that was probably lost on the young dragon.

“Sam, are you listening?” Isolde’s voice came to him, somewhat impatiently.

“Sorry. Salveer was just making an observation. What do you wish me to relate to the group?” He carefully didn’t say what the observation had been, and she let it go.

“Tell them that we’ve narrowed down the suspects to five. Lord Bayern, Lord Moreline, Lady Habitha, Lord Orthan, and Lady Iretnia. I’ve had my sources keep a special eye on all of those, but so far, we haven’t been able to narrow it any further than that. Perhaps the dragons could help. It might be good to know if there have been any recent changes to their lands or holdings. Maybe the dragons could scout from the air?”

“I’ll ask,” Sam promised, relaying faithfully everything she’d just told him.

The dragons agree that they would conduct aerial reconnaissance as soon as possible. That led to a discussion of each candidate and where their lands were. Maps were retrieved and spread out on the floor where the dragons could study them. Tasks were assigned by Lady Esselynn and dragons dispatched to various parts of the country.

Finally, it seemed the investigation was heading in the right direction.

Sam went to Isolde’s shop that evening, with the King’s blessing, to work with Isolde and the dragons. Salveer and Shera could act as relays to the other dragons who had flown out under cover of darkness to investigate the five suspects on Isolde’s list. They would see what could be seen of the manor houses and mansions from the air. Sam wasn’t sure exactly what that could tell them, but the dragons seemed to think it was a great idea.

Dinner with the children was an eye-opener. He’d dined with them once before, but he was starting to learn more about the inner workings of Isolde’s household, and he was impressed all over again when she made some announcements before they ate.

He’d actually carried her up the stairs to the second floor because her ankle was giving her trouble again. Rather than eat alone in the downstairs workshop she’d turned into her bedroom for the duration of her injury, she wanted to be with the kids tonight, and Sam had made that possible. Plus, any excuse to have Isolde in his arms was fine by him.

“And finally, the King was very grateful for your help on the playing field,” Isolde told them all as she stood on one foot and knelt with her bad leg on the seat of her chair. “He has added a gold sovereign to every one of your accounts in thanks.” A cheer went up from the apprentices, and Isolde sat down, the announcements over.

“The children have accounts?” he asked, because this was a strange development.

He didn’t know how all guilds worked, but in the Mercenary Guild, one had to be an active member for a certain number of years before the Guild would allow a merc to open an account. For mercs, the Guild would hold their money safe in their vaults until the merc was ready to retire or was injured too badly to go on, then he could withdraw the funds to live on either all at once or a bit at a time for the rest of his life, or as long as the money lasted.

“They’re not Guild accounts yet,” Isolde explained. “I start each apprentice with their own household account. They get paid wages for their work here. The younger ones especially are not allowed all of their pay at once because you know how children are. They’ll spend it all on sweets or get victimized by someone with no scruples. I hold all their accounts until they are of age to become journeymen, at which point, the money is transferred to their Guild account, so they already start off with something to show for themselves. If they don’t want to continue in the glassmaker’s profession, they can have all their money when they leave. Most stay, though. It’s a good-paying trade, even if you never make Master Craftsman.”

Sam was touched by the care she gave to her orphans. She made sure they had a nest egg, which was more than he ever had when he’d been a parentless child. He reached over and covered her hand with his, drawing her gaze.

“You’re a treasure, Isolde. These kids don’t know how blessed they are to have been apprenticed to you.” For a moment, it was as if only they two existed in the whole world, but then, Kurt spoke up from Sam’s other side.

“Oh, we know, General,” Kurt assured him. “Some of us had to experience life on the streets for a while before we found our way to this shop and the safety within.”

Sam turned to see the stark reality of his past written on the young man’s face. Sam felt a kinship with the boy on the edge of adulthood and felt his throat tighten with emotion. He decided to share a bit of his story with Kurt, in hopes that it would prove once and for all that an orphan could rise to do important things.

“I have been where you were,” Sam said in a low voice to Kurt. “I was not so blessed to find a haven like this, but eventually, I did find a gruff old merc who took a few of us under his wing and protected us from the worst life has to offer.”

“You were an orphan too?” Kurt looked shocked.

Sam nodded. “At a very young age, war came through and destroyed my family and home. I was the only survivor.” Sam paused, then cleared his throat and went on. “I tell you this to prove that you can do anything. Be anything. Your past does not determine your future. You are already on a good path, and I suspect you will bring honor to whatever you try your hand at, whether it be the glass arts or the more clandestine things you have learned here.”

Kurt looked nonplussed, and Sam was glad he’d unbent enough to share that little bit of his past. It was important that these children know they could achieve whatever they set out to do. He was living proof of that.

“Thank you, sir,” Kurt said finally, having to clear his throat several times to make the words come out. He was as touched by Sam’s words as Sam had been by Isolde’s actions.

Sam patted the young man on the shoulder. They had an understanding. It was enough.

Isolde was deeply moved by the way Sam opened up to Kurt. She had a feeling he did not usually share that part of his past with just anyone. He’d told her, but for him to say it to Kurt, where the others at the table could probably hear, meant something significant. Or so she believed.

His hand still covered hers, even as he spoke with Kurt. She turned her hand over and twined her fingers with his, squeezing lightly in support. He was such a good man. Such a good example for her apprentices. She didn’t care if they knew that she and Sam were keeping company, though she was a bit concerned about what would happen in the future when he left.

Isolde resolved to not think about that now. There would be time enough to worry about the future later. Tonight was for living. And being with the man she loved.

As dinner ended and the apprentices began leaving the room for their various chores, one of the youngest and newest of the apprentices came over to Isolde and Sam as they sat by the fireplace. She was a little thing. Only six winters old and newly orphaned. One of the temples had taken her in, and when she’d shown skill at drawing and a fascination with the stained-glass windows, the kindly priestess had contacted Isolde.

She’d only come to the shop about a week ago, and in all the tumult, Isolde hadn’t had a lot of time to spare for the child. Mrs. Cooper was taking good care of her, Isolde knew, but she prided herself on making every child feel special. And loved.

Her name was Agnes, and she was a shy little thing, which was why Isolde held her breath when the little girl stopped in front of Sam’s chair. Sam looked at her with very serious eyes as the girl gazed up at him, her big blue eyes holding a sort of plea in them. Isolde hoped Sam knew what to do.

“Can I help you, little one?” Sam asked in a gentle voice that held no censure. So far, so good.

“I’m Agnes,” the child whispered, lowering her eyes as if afraid of being rebuked.

“Agnes,” Sam repeated. “That is a lovely name. My name is Samnir, but you can call me Sam. All of my good friends call me that.”

“Sam?” Agnes looked up with hope in her eyes, moving a step closer.

“That’s right,” he praised her for getting his name right. “Would you like to sit by the fire with us for a little while?” he asked, looking over at Isolde. “If it’s all right with your mistress, that is.”

“Of course, it’s all right,” Isolde said at once, trying to hold her own emotions at bay. Sam was so good with the little girl. She had not expected that.

“Would you like to sit up here with me?” he asked softly. “Or with Mistress Isolde? Or do you want your own little chair. Perhaps we can find one for you.” He looked around at the big room that was emptying out rapidly now as if searching for a child-sized wing chair.

In answer, Agnes stepped closer to Sam and held up her arms tentatively. He didn’t make her wait. He lifted her easily and seated her next to him in the wide chair. She was so small she barely took up any room. He kept his arm around her shoulders, holding her close to his side, and she burrowed into him like a tiny kitten seeking warmth.

“How’s that, sweetheart? Are you comfortable?” he asked quietly, keeping his voice mellow so as not to frighten her.

She nodded against him, her face buried in his shirt as she cried silent tears. Sam looked up at Isolde then, and there were tears in his own eyes. He put his arm a little tighter around the girl’s shaking shoulders and just held her until she cried herself out. It didn’t take long. It was late, and she was so little and scared and tired.

Agnes fell asleep in Sam’s arms, but he didn’t make a move. He just held her while the firelight played over them and the night deepened.

“The first of the dragons should be reaching their marks soon,” Isolde said in a low voice. Agnes didn’t stir. “Perhaps you could carry her up to her bed and tuck her in, then we could go back down to the workshop and process the reports as they come in.”

They’d already worked out with Shera and Salveer that they would stay up tonight to go through the reports as they came in. There was no time to waste in identifying the culprit who’d gone to such great lengths to try to kill Alric. If they weren’t stopped, there was no doubt they would try again.

“How do I find her room?” Sam asked, gathering the little girl into his arms.

“Oh.” Isolde looked around as Sam stood, Agnes in his arms. As he walked slowly toward the door, it opened, and Mrs. Cooper stepped through.

“I was just coming to look for Agnes,” she said kindly. “I didn’t realize she was with you, but I can take her up to her bed now. Poor little mite. She lived with her father after her mother died birthing her, and her father died in a runaway cart accident just a few months ago. I expect she sees you as a father figure.”

The chatty cook took the small girl from Sam without waking her and turned to leave. Sam stood there, watching them, clearly moved by the older woman’s revelations.

Isolde stood and began making her way painfully toward him. He turned and saw her moving and came right over, lifting her off her feet.

“Let’s get you downstairs, and I’ll tell you all about the ice dragons and how they can tune their scales so they just disappear in the sky,” he told her, changing the tone. She let it go.

It was clear to Isolde that being thought of as a father figure by that tiny girl had touched him deeply. She put her arms around his neck and rested her head against his shoulder. Agnes was right. It was nice to rest against Sam’s strong body.

He got her down the stairs with little difficulty. He carried her as if she was as light as a feather, which made her feel small and delicate. He placed her on the chair she’d been using that had an ottoman in front of it piled with pillows so she could put her foot up. They had spread a map on the worktable and placed her chair next to it before they’d gone up for dinner. She would sleep down here again, until her ankle was good enough to take her up the stairs on her own. It was just easier.

But tonight, they might not get much sleep. Shera was sitting outside in the yard. Sam went over and opened the window.

“Hello, Lady Shera,” he said conversationally. “Any news to report yet?”