Red Hart Magic (The Magic Sequence) by Andre Norton

Author:Andre Norton [Norton, Andre]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Open Road Media Sci-Fi & Fantasy
Published: 2014-07-01T04:00:00+00:00

“It's fever,” she was saying as Nan came in. “Best one of you ride for the apothecary. At least he can tell you what can be done if he will not come himself. What do you want?” she ended more sharply as she sighted Nan.

“Cook sent me. The gentlemen and the lady—they are leaving. Jos told their coachman about"—she waved a hand to the bed—"they think Havers will cause trouble. And—well, Noel wasn't in the stable—'least I did not see him. Cook thinks—”

Aunt Prudence laughed suddenly. “If you have any other ill news, do keep it to yourself now, I beg of you. Yes, given that information, Havers will indeed be down upon us.”

“If you have a wagon, Mistress, perhaps we could—” the younger man spoke for the first time.

“If you move him, like as not he will be dead within the hour,” Aunt Prudence returned bluntly. “Also do you think you could leave here and that not be known? It depends now on chance—and that is not good.

“The windows—draw and bolt the shutters,” she ordered. “We must make do as best we can. It depends on Matt, whether he is my servant or Jos's. Also whether the Lieutenant's son can summon any aid for us. I made it plain in my letter—

“Now"—she waved Nan ahead of her—"I must see to these parting guests who wish themselves well away from other people's troubles.”

Once outside the door she dropped one hand on Nan's shoulder, and with her other, searched out a key from those which hung on a hoop at her waist. “Take this"—she slipped the key free—"and go to my father's chamber. Find his fowling piece and his two pistols, also any shot for them you can. Bring them speedily to the parlor.”

The room had a musty smell and was very cold, but it was in order, for Aunt Prudence herself cleaned and dusted there once each month. The fowling piece was so heavy Nan had to drag it across the floor; all her experience with fetching and carrying had not prepared her for this weight. She found the pistols, two of them, long and heavy, too, just inside the chest lying on top of her grandfather's cloak. There was a bag of shot and a powder horn; she hurriedly assembled them all but had to make two trips to carry them down to the parlor.

The grind of coach wheels sounded on the cobbles— those bound for Rye were leaving. It was not until tomorrow morning that the stage from Rye would come by. Perhaps Aunt Prudence could send to the Manor. But that would not do much good. The Squire was up to London with his lady, and Nan suspected that none of his men would come to aid at the inn without his orders.

As she leaned the fowling-piece muzzle up against the table, Aunt Prudence came in. Nan handed her the key. “This was all I could find.”

“Well enough. Now get your cloak, girl. You and Emmy are to go across to the Hodgins’ cottage—”

Nan shook her head.

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