Disciple of War Disciple of War (Art of the Adept #4) - Michael G. Manning Page 0,80

Sammy, sniffing.

“After the war is done,” corrected Will, clarifying what they’d agreed to. He hugged both of his cousins once more, then his uncle, and ended with one last long embrace from his mother.

“Please be careful,” reminded Erisa. “You’re all I have.”

Will tried not to meet her tearful gaze; he felt bad enough for leaving. Instead he looked at the rest of his family. “I don’t think that’s quite true.”

“Don’t worry. He’ll be commanding, so he’ll be the safest person in the army,” Selene reassured.

Eric grinned and added, “That’s right, Auntie. Don’t worry about him. Hell, I’m much more likely to get killed since—” His words were cut off sharply as Johnathan cuffed the back of his son’s head.

“We’ll both do our best to come back safely,” said Will.

Erisa looked at her new daughter. “You’ll stay safe at least, won’t you?”

“Don’t worry, Mother,” answered Selene, enjoying the feel of the unfamiliar term. “I won’t be going with them.”

Will raised a brow at that remark, since it ran counter to what he’d expected, but he said nothing. He waited until they’d finished the walk back to his old house and they were inside the carriage before he commented on her words. “You didn’t really mean what you said back there, did you?”

Selene’s face was composed, showing nothing. “I have no intention of starting my relationship with your mother by lying to her.”

Shit. He could tell Selene was upset by the very fact that she seemed so calm—and he had absolutely no idea what to do about it. On one hand he was relieved that she wouldn’t be coming along, but on the other hand, it was completely out of character for her. Should he argue against his own wishes, or be supportive of hers?

His mind chased its own tail for an interminable period before Selene broke the silence for him. “Stop that. I can almost hear your brain cooking itself. I know you didn’t want me along.”

“I would have said that I prefer to keep you safe,” said Will. “But I wasn’t going to try and force you to stay home. We met in an army camp, after all.”

She met his eyes for a second, then looked away, before her feelings could be seen. “I’m doing the logical thing, not for us, but for the nation. As I am currently, I can’t help you with the war, whereas I’ll still have some value for the effort if I’m in Cerria.”

“Your magic isn’t that important. Your experience dealing with the nobility is far more—” Will began.

She didn’t let him finish. “You’ve done fine bringing them to heel. I can do more good in the capital, both in assisting with supply and organizational efforts, and in relaying messages.”

“Messages?”

She tapped her chest, just over her heart. “The heart-stone enchantment.”

His plan had been to remove the binding from her before leaving. While it would allow them to communicate over long distances, he hadn’t factored that into his thoughts. “I’d rather you have your freedom in case something happens to me.” Since he held the master end of the enchantment, it was possible that if he died, a sorcerer could claim control of her in the same fashion that elementals were claimed after their master died.

“If you die, I don’t think I’ll care much about what happens,” she responded. “Besides, this will give you some distinct advantages. If something happens and your forces are split, Father can communicate with any of the sorcerers among them and share their reports with me, then I can pass them along to you, and vice-versa.”

Will opened his mouth, then closed it again. As usual, his wife made a lot of sense.

“Also, if by some chance my ability to use magic normally returns, you could simply summon me to you with the enchantment. Even if it doesn’t, if you win and need me to negotiate terms after the victory, you could summon me then.”

“You seem awfully confident we’ll win.”

She turned to him then, and her eyes held a burning intensity. Leaning over, she planted a kiss on his lips that threatened to set the carriage on fire. Will felt something wet on his skin, and when she finally withdrew he saw a tear run down her cheek. “I’m confident that you will win–because you have to. You’ll win and you’ll come back to me safe and sound. I refuse to entertain any other possibilities.”

He wished he shared her conviction, and his throat went dry as he saw the desperate anxiety that