Chapter 668: Arriving in Camp (Part Two)
"Sir Marcel, we’ve been waiting for you," the flame-haired youth said as the merchant hopped down from the driver’s seat. "Is that Darragh you have with you?" he asked, pointing to the bound and gagged figure sitting slumped on the driver’s seat next to where Marcel had been. "We had a bit of trouble earlier," he said as his face heated in embarrassment.
"Ollie! No, Sir Ollie," Marcell said warmly, placing extra emphasis on Ollie’s new title. Walking quickly, the youthful-looking merchant strode to the young man’s side before enveloping him in an enthusiastic embrace and patting him several times on the back. "Don’t worry about the trouble with Darragh," he said quietly.
"I expected that someone might cause trouble," he added. "I just wasn’t certain who it would be. No harm was done, and we’ve uncovered a problem before it could grow into a catastrophe."
"Thank you for catching him and bringing him back," Ollie said, gesturing briefly to Eamon and Daithi to retrieve the unconscious deserter from the carriage. "I owe you one for this," he promised solemnly.
"Nonsense, we each have our roles to play," Marcel said, stepping back and holding Ollie’s shoulders as he gave the young man an appraising look. "I’m sorry I missed last night’s banquet. It looks good on you, and it’s about time that everything is official. Is this part of your new coat of arms?" he asked as he tapped the silver cloak pin. "Have you picked a surname yet?"
"The pin is just decorative," Ollie said with a chuckle, finally relaxing now that Darragh was back and under control. "It isn’t even the right leaf. But I did pick a surname. Heartwood," he said proudly, puffing up his chest.
"Heartwood," Marcel said, nodding in approval as he wrapped an arm around the young man’s shoulder, leading him toward the carriage while he spoke. "It suits you, it really does. But I’m being rude to our guests," he added. "Come, let me introduce you," he said, pulling open the door to the carriage and extending a hand to help Isabell down."
"Master Isabell of Blackwell County’s Illustrious Company of Engineers," Marcel said smoothly. "Along with Master Tiernan of Blackwell County’s Iron Mongers," he said, introducing the pair of masters first. "They’ve come a long way to be here tonight, you know," Marcel said with a suggestive wink. "They even threatened me if I couldn’t bring them safely here and deliver the meeting I promised. They’re really very loyal, very admirable people."
Of course, Marcel wasn’t just speaking for Ollie’s benefit. With her enhanced senses that were as sharp as any vampire’s, Marcel was certain that Ashlynn could hear every word that was said, even from within the confines of the heavy canvas tent.
When she exited the carriage, Isabell couldn’t help but look around the camp, trying to find any clues she could to Lady Ashlynn’s current circumstances. There was only a single carriage baring a strange coat of arms that she’d never seen before, one that featured a large tree over a field of blue and green with flowers along the base of the tree. Could this be the lord who had been serving at Lady Ashlynn’s patron or guardian while she’d been in hiding?
But if Lady Ashlynn had gained some kind of protector, they were doing a poor job of defending her. From the looks of it, there were only half a dozen soldiers and a few servants moving about, and the only knight present was this young man who wasn’t even wearing armor. There were no patrols moving about, nor archers unless they had scouts of some sort hidden in the wilderness.