CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: MISSION.
Casting furtive glances into the village's courtyard and unconsciously twisting the beads on his bracelet, Neb waited outside Blain's hut. Once again, the big man had used his brains, rather than brawn. With surprising insight, he deduced that Kattin's actions were motivated by greed. Once the sham marriage had taken place, Kattin would declare herself Samara's guardian and take control of the girl's finances. Although Neb itched to dash out on a rescue mission, Blain had concocted a plan.
'I'll guarantee Kattin can have my gold now, Samara can repay me later.' In effect, Blain proposed to purchase Samara's guardianship from Kattin. Neb thought Samara could do a lot worse, but wished Blain would hurry. Most of the villagers and Lord Massant's men had retired to their huts and tents. Apart from a soft chatter as Lady Lydia's women cleared away platters and made ready for tomorrow's breakfast, Neb's breathing was the only sound to stir the night's air. Any moment now Romulus would materialise and demand to know what he and Blain were playing at.
A footstep sounded, Neb started and spun around, then sighed with relief.
'Harry! If you're looking for your father, he's –'
'– I've seen my father, I was looking for you, actually. You're meant to be with us tomorrow, Alexis and I are about to make tracks for the campsite.' He stared with open curiosity at Blain as he finally emerged from his hut. 'You won't need a lamp, our tent is the closest to the village, only over there,' he pointed.
Glaring at Harry, Blain wrapped one of his old cloaks around Neb and handed him a lantern. At the same time he palmed a scroll of wafer thin pigskin into Neb's other hand. Neb hurriedly secreted the pigskin in the cloak's folds.
'He has an errand to run first,' Blain grunted, as though loath to give even the barest explanation.
'Errand?' Harry wrinkled his brow and smiled at Neb. 'Errands are for peasants.' Then his brow smoothed. 'Would this "errand" be connected to dear cousin Lillian's earlier escapade?' he drawled, raising an eyebrow. Neb and Blain exchanged glances. Blain grimaced and mouthed "Luke" – obviously Harry's father had filled in any gaps.
'I pray your silence, Harry. No-one must know,' Neb pleaded.
Harry frowned again, 'Chief Wulfstan is singing your praises. Father says he has never known the Griffin Master so … cheerful.' He dropped his mocking tone and grew serious. 'You're about to sacrifice all their goodwill for the sake of a pretty face? Don't do this … Neb ap Neb,'
Neb clamped his lips and glowered at Harry's not so subtle reminder that he was a nobody. 'They've taken Samara,' he replied, feeling the back of his neck flush. 'She's a nobody too.' That wasn't quite true, she had a name and an inheritance to claim on her eighteenth birthday – or when she married – which ever came sooner.
At Alexis' approach, Blain groaned, 'we'll have the whole village here soon, so much for a quiet exit.'
Alexis smiled uncertainly, and nodded at Blain. 'Quiet exit? Who's going where? Are we making a surprise attack?' he enquired, looking enthused at the thought.
'Our griffin riding friend here is deserting the battle.'
Alexis' mouth dropped open 'What? And miss all the fun?' but then his eyes narrowed 'or are you craven? You've learned Lord Massant will be riding your griffin and now you're running away?' he sneered.
When Neb spluttered with outrage, Alexis smirked.
'Lord Massant told us about the other girl, poor maid,' he pouted with mock sympathy. 'But that's what everyone will think – that you ran away.' Still smirking, he slung an arm around the young Lordling's shoulder. 'Come Harry, let him sneak off.'
The confusion left Harry's eyes, and he glared at Neb, 'This is how you repay our friendship?' he spat on the ground, adding: 'It seems you can take the boy from the peasant, but not the peasant from the boy.'
Neb sprung at him – even Lord Massant's son couldn't get away with that – but Blain's hand clamped on his shoulder. Restrained by an immovable grip, Neb watched Alexis and Harry stride past the Main Square and melt into the night. He shivered.
'Battles are never fun – but tomorrow's showdown will be exciting – and you could still be there. That's what you're thinking isn't it?' Blain's voice rumbled in his ear. Neb spun around, dipping his shoulder and batting Blain's hand away. Under thick bushy eyebrows, Blain's eyes were sympathetic. Neb's anger faded. He nodded, chewing at his bottom lip. 'I've made my decision,' his fingers brushed against the scrap of pig-skin concealed inside the folds of his borrowed cloak. 'I'm determined to find Kattin and persuade her to release Samara.' Although if he got the chance, he'd simply steal Samara away.
As though reading his mind, Blain cautioned him: 'No heroics this time. Show Kattin my written promise, tell her she can have my gold now, providing she lets the girl go.'
When Neb nodded assent, Blain added, 'I wish I could come with you – but,' he waved towards Lord Massant's banners fluttering above his army's tents.
Blain would be missed, Neb wouldn't.
Neb swallowed, there was nothing more to be said, he'd chosen his path. He patted Blain's arm awkwardly, turned and started out on his mission.