Page 83 of A Sorceress Comes to Call
Her logic was unassailable, and she knew it. Eventually the others came around, but no one liked it. “Don’t worry,” said Imogene dryly. “None of us are going to be all that safe. There’ll be a line of chalk between us and that same horse, remember?”
Evermore scowled. “I had thought perhaps Willard and I, and one of my men…”
“Absolutely not,” said Hester. “You can’t order someone to do this. And what would you even say? ‘You, stand here and invoke wine.’ No, it’s got to be us. I’ll take water.”
“I agree with Hester,” said Imogene. “And obviously I’ll take salt.”
“Leaving me with wine, I suppose,” said Evermore.
“Lady Hester, are you certain? Your knee—”
She folded her arms. “Tom, someone has to draw the triangle around all of us. I’d much rather stand in one place and have you walking around with the chalk.”
Willard and Evermore exchanged looks. “I suppose she’s right,” muttered Evermore. “As usual.”
The former butler inclined his head. “I will do my best. And in this case, at least we will have an extra set of hands when something goes wrong.”
No one argued. Cordelia just wished that he’d said if instead of when.
They did the spell in late evening. “I’ve asked three men to stay on to help wrangle the beast, and cleared out the rest of the stablehands for the evening,” Evermore said. “They’ll likely think I’m a monster for doing this to a horse, but at least this way, fewer of them will be around to stop me.”
“Would they try to stop you?” asked Cordelia. “You’re their lord.”
One corner of Evermore’s mouth curved up in a humorless smile. “No man in my stables should stand by and watch a horse mistreated, whether by a king or a beggar. Normally they know that their lord has their back. I suppose tonight we find out how much that’s been worth.”
There were three stablehands waiting for them, and a very old man. Evermore’s breath hissed through his teeth. “Dammit,” he muttered. “I hoped Bernard wouldn’t catch wind of this.”
“Your mistake was asking them to keep silent,” said Imogene. “That pretty much guaranteed it would be everywhere by nightfall.”
The old man was bowlegged and nearly toothless, but his eyes were as sharp as penny nails. “What’s this I hear?” He stomped up to Evermore, heedless of the fact that he was a good head shorter. “What are you planning to do to a beast?”
Evermore looked over Bernard’s head, into the depths of the stable, then ushered him away. Cordelia suspected that he was trying to get out of Falada’s hearing. She couldn’t see the familiar, but one of the stalls was a little lighter than the others, as if the shadows had been lit up by something large and bright.
She could just catch snatches of the men’s conversation where she stood.
“… taught you better…” Bernard said, in clear disgust.
Evermore’s voice was deeper and harder to make out, but she thought it included Trust me. Judging by the old man’s querulous voice, that was asking a great deal.
She looked over her shoulder, to the entrance of the stables. Willard, Hester, and Imogene all stood just to one side. Since it was going to be difficult keeping Falada still, they’d decided to do the ritual as close to the mouth of the stable as possible. There was a post with an iron ring used for hitching horses, and their plan, such as it was, was to tie Falada to the ring and then draw the circle around him.
Cordelia had a feeling that Falada was not going to cooperate.
He’ll know something’s going on. Somehow. As soon as we start, he’ll know and try to break loose.
The stablehands were there to secure the familiar to the post and hobble him there, but Evermore had told them the truth that Falada could not survive the night. They did not look happy about it. Well, and why would they be? If you don’t know what he is, it looks like Evermore is going to put down a magnificent horse in his prime. One that doesn’t even really belong to him.
“Fine,” she heard Bernard growl, stalking back toward them. “I don’t know what your father would say, but I’ll not stop you. Put those damn ropes away, lads. I’ll bring him out myself.”
“Bernard…” Evermore’s protest was more resigned than sharp. Cordelia watched the old man take a halter off the wall and walk toward the stall.
“Is that safe?” she whispered, even though what she meant was That is most definitely not safe. You should let me do it.
“Bernard could control the Devil himself if he took the form of a horse.”
Cordelia swallowed hard.
“Come on then, beauty,” she heard the old man crooning from the stable depths. “I know, it’s late. But you’ve been jumping the door and wandering the place at night, haven’t you? Don’t think Old Bernard doesn’t know. Let’s have a bit of a walk before you wander, eh? Here we go, over the ears, there’s a good beauty…”
