Disciple of War Disciple of War (Art of the Adept #4) - Michael G. Manning Page 0,45

to go alone?”

Selene smiled, a sparkle in her eye. “Nervous?”

“I’m more worried about you. You still can’t use magic freely.”

She laughed. “I don’t actually intend to go alone.”

“Well, obviously we’re together.”

She pointed at a building on the corner ahead of them. They were deep in the market district and the building she indicated belonged to the City Watch; in fact, it was their main headquarters. “I thought I’d show you how to manage a dangerous situation properly.”

“So, I won’t worry the next time you’re on your own?”

“So maybe you won’t get yourself killed acting by yourself when I’m not around,” she countered. “I’ll introduce you to the watch captains. It’s time they learned your face.”

Given most of his experiences in life, Will wasn’t really certain he wanted anyone involved in law enforcement to know his face. He’d been in more jails than he’d been out of them, according to his personal reckoning, but he could see the logic of Selene’s statement. They entered the large front room of the watch building, which featured a long desk in front of the far wall. The desk and the two men behind it served the dual purpose of receiving citizen complaints and processing those who had just been arrested. One side had several officers with criminals in tow waiting to be documented, while the other end of the desk was clear.

Everyone glanced at Selene as she entered, not necessarily because she was royalty, but more so because she was female and exceptionally lovely. Pretty young women were a relatively rare occurrence in the building. Her current attire indicated modest wealth but gave no clue to her birth. Apparently, none of the watchmen that were present were familiar with her face, for they watched her with open interest as she marched toward the empty side of the desk.

Will immediately became defensive and began glaring back at some of the men who were staring too openly at his wife. Then he recognized one of them. “Ned?”

Selene stopped, watching him curiously. She hadn’t expected Will to be the first to meet someone he knew. The burly guardsman stared back at Will in confusion for a moment, then pointed with a faint smirk as recognition dawned on him. “Murder weapon?”

Will grinned and nodded. The man he was addressing had been the same guard who had once arrested him when he first tried to enter Branscombe. At the time he’d been wearing armor and clothing stolen from an enemy soldier that he’d killed.

Ned smiled back. “You’ve filled out some since then. Where’s your Darrowan uniform?”

He laughed. “I told you I wasn’t a spy.”

“I never really thought you were,” admitted the burly man.

“Then why’d you arrest me?”

“Rules is rules.” Ned nodded politely in Selene’s direction. “Pardon me, ma’am. I should have introduced myself. Ned Spratte, at your service.”

Selene’s expression acknowledged him but before she could reply, Will jumped in, feeling self-conscious. “This is my wife, S—”

“Lady Isabel!” interrupted Ned, snapping his fingers. “I remember you now. They had all of us take note of your face. Wait!” He glanced from her to Will and back again. “You married this scrounger?”

She nodded quietly, a faint smirk forming on her lips. Everyone in the room was watching them, except those whose hands were full with their current business.

Ned shook his head. “No accounting for taste I guess.” Then he asked Will, “What happened to you? Last I saw you; they were carting you off to face the king for desertion and kidnapping.”

Will blushed, then glanced at Selene. “Things worked out.”

It was then that the current shift captain stepped into the room from the back. Like everyone, his eyes were drawn to Selene, but unlike the others, he immediately recognized her. His voice cracked out, louder than a whip, “Attention! Men, show respect to the princess!”

The watchmen in the room all straightened, then stared at their captain, who for his part had his eyes firmly on Selene. After a second, he cast his gaze and the floor and then bent at the waist. “Your Highness, we are honored by your presence!” The rest of the room quickly followed suit, except for Ned, who seemed to have been paralyzed.

Selene accepted the scene with the aplomb possible only for someone who had been raised to it. Will did his best to hide his embarrassment, but there was one person in the room who was even more uncomfortable: Ned. At long last, the poor man’s brain began moving again and rather than merely bow, he