Mumford nodded once. “How do I stop her from getting in my mind?”
Mal smiled softly. “I don’t know that you can. Maeve’s abilities with the mind are quite a mystery.”
Mumford took a sip of his drink. “May I ask you something?”
“Yes,” replied Mal.
Mumford hesitated. “Why aren’t you a Bellator? Why don’t you wear that badge?”
Mal looked over at Maeve. “She is my second. When I am crowned as The Dread Prince she will be the rock against which the waves crash. The mountain standing against the storm. Everyone must know now that she is something to be feared.” He turned his attention back to Mumford. “Even you fear her.”
Mumford looked like he was prepared to argue, but Mal held up his hand.
“You should fear her,” he said. “I don’t want stupid men in my court.”
Mumford straightened.
“So tell me,” said Mal, his voice dipping into a dark hum, and letting some of that lethal Dread Magic slip from him. The firelights in the room dimmed. “Are you stupid enough not to fear what is more powerful than you?”
Mumford’s skin flushed. He shook his head sternly.
“Do you feel the Magic that slips threateningly from her?”
Mumford nodded. Mal’s eyes sparkled.
“Magnificent, isn’t it? Such a power.”
“What of your power?” Challenged Mumford. “Dread Magic is surely to be more feared.”
“More?” Asked Mal. “Magic is not quantified in more and less. My Dread Magic is holy and divine. It is deadly and catastrophic.” He smiled. “I will admit to you that even I fear it. It’s as though part of me is not my own. It lies dormant. Until needed.”
Mumford looked to Maeve. “I’ve been fighting my whole life. And I’ve never fought anyone like her. It was like she was ahead of me, in my mind, like a shadow slipping around me.”
“That is what she needs to be.”
“I want to be a part of your team,” said Mumford.
“Good,” said Mal. “In the coming weeks Maeve will need your support, both of your support,” his eyes slipped to Roswyn. “Stand by her as she wins. The rest will follow your example.”
Roswyn looked at Mal and spoke carefully. “They don’t like her.”
Mal’s eyes were carefully on Roswyn. “Then make them.”
Mumford nodded. Roswyn downed his Bourbon with a hefty sigh.
“The three of you must be a united front as you move up in the Bellator ranks.”
“Belvadora was there too,” said Maeve. “She did not return to school.”
“She needs work,” said Roswyn.
“She learns quick,” said Maeve.
“She came in last today,” seethed Roswyn. “That’s what happens to the enlisted and not the recruited.”
“I didn’t get much time with her at Vaukore,” said Mal. “Don’t let her fall behind Roswyn. Push her, work with her outside of trainings if you must. Any of them that need it.”
Roswyn looked directly at Mal and nodded.
