Rogue's Passion(65)

He shifted his weight slightly in the saddle and squeezed his fingers on the reins. The blood bay warhorse responded immediately, breaking from a canter down to a walk.
"Good boy." He patted the animal's sweaty neck.
After speaking with Rickert, he’d decided to not to waste any more time on what he had to do. He needed to find out what he could about his sister and accept the temporary appointment of Rickert’s Iron Guild command.
He’d considered calling Reckless before he left for Cascadia to let them know he was going to be gone for a while. Rand was used to Asher’s comings and goings, but Olivia wasn’t. However, the more he’d thought about it, the more he decided it was best to just leave. Conry would be fine there for a few weeks, and he and Olivia weren’t a couple. The sooner he accepted that and stopped acting like they were, the better.
The stallion flicked an ear back, waiting for another cue, but Asher loosened the reins and let him have his head. Many of the small villages and towns near the portals kept horses for Iron Guild warriors to use. He'd be sure to tell the livery where Bayard came from that they'd trained him well and he was in excellent shape.
The first thatched-roof cottage came into view, but Asher kept the horse at a slow walk. Although he was anxious to get this visit over with, he wanted to prolong seeing his stepfather for as long as he could. If he were lucky, the bloke would be away and he could talk to his mother alone. But since he'd never had any luck where his stepfather was concerned, he fully expected to deal with the man soon after he entered the gate.
Word of an approaching Iron Guild warrior spread quickly through the village, and soon the narrow street was lined with people, clapping and shouting his name. It had been years since he'd been home, and yet they still recognized him. He smiled, nodded and waved back. He was struck by the contrast between this warm welcome and how the people of Pacifica responded to their military. There was no comparison.
Unfazed by the commotion, Bayard kept plodding along.
Someone shoved a tankard of ogappa ale into Asher's left hand, while someone else shoved a warm baguette into his right. He downed the ale in a couple of long swallows. Holy Fates, he missed its refreshing, bittersweet taste. Just what he needed after a long ride…and before he had to deal with his stepfather. He bit off a piece of bread and chewed, again grateful that Bayard was well-mannered enough that he didn’t need to hold the reins.
His stepfather’s farm loomed up ahead. Recalling how they’d made no room in the barn for his horse the last time he came home, he left Bayard at the livery in town, making sure the horse would be rubbed down by hand and fed extra hay and oats. Blackstone, the livery owner, and his family were more than excited to help him out. He walked the rest of the way on foot.
As luck would have it, his stepfather was standing in the doorway of the farmhouse, legs spread, arms loose at his sides. News of Asher’s visit had obviously reached him.
“Not good enough, are we?” His stepfather ignored Asher’s outstretched hand. There was no ‘hello’ or ‘how have you been.’
Asher wasn’t sure what the man was talking about. “I don’t understand.”
“That stud-horse of yours too fancy that you didn’t want to bring him here?”
“Last time I came, you had no room, remember? Figured I’d spare you the extra hay and grain he’d eat and leave him in town.”
“So Blackstone and his family can breed their mares to him and not me?”
Asher had forgotten that in exchange for caring for a warrior’s horse, it was customary for the stallion to be used as a stud and mated to the barn owner’s mares that were in season. The last time he was here, his stepfather only had geldings.
Before he could reply, his mother appeared in the doorway. Although she was still beautiful, she was thinner and looked much older.#p#分页标题#e#
“Ash! Oh my Fates, is it really you?” She rushed down and threw her arms around him. She smelled as if she’d been baking bread.
“Hey, Mom,” he said, trying not to choke because she was squeezing him so hard. The thing about his mother was that although she was tiny, she had always been strong. At least that hadn’t changed.
She pulled away, held him at arm’s length and looked him up and down. “I always forget how tall you are, just like your father was. He would be so proud. Henry, look at his muscles.”
His stepfather glared at him with cold, hard eyes. “Been gone a long time. How many more half-breed children have you fathered, or do you still have trouble counting?”
Asher lunged at him. His mother cried out and pressed her hands to his chest. He stopped. If it weren’t for her, he’d have thrown the asshole to the ground.