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“You’re incredible,” Kora told her, turning his face so that his cheek brushed against hers. Anrid jerked back and wiggled to be put down. Kora seemed less than inclined to release her, but a warning growl from Jael seemed to change his mind.
Anrid steadied herself and stepped away from Kora, frantically smoothing her apron and hair as if trying to put herself back in order. She faced the rows of expectant faces and seemed to gather her wits about her.
“Now,” she said in a firm voice, “you will follow Prince Jael into the house without making a peep. Quiet as mice.” She held a finger to her lips. “If you want any food, you will not push and will walk nice.”
“Quiet as mice!” Rig giggled from the back of the line. His white hair stood on end, the flush of an emerging bruise on his cheekbone, but the lad grinned from ear to ear and held a conspiratorial finger to his lips.
“Yes. Quiet as mice,” Anrid confirmed. When she said nothing further, Jael realized she was waiting for him to take the lead.
He cleared his throat. “Well, then. Kora, you bring up the rear and make sure we don’t lose anyone. With me, you lot.” Still clutching Medda against his chest, he marched up the stairs and led the way into the keep.
Medda, bless her foul little soul, leaned her head on his thrice-bitten shoulder, grabbed a fistful of his shirt, and began sucking the fabric with happy sighs.
Apparently, all was forgiven.
With a roll of the eyes, he stalked into Imenborg with three dozen tip-toeing goblins at his heels, wondering how much scrubbing it would take to get the spit out of his robes.
They invaded the kitchen as quietly as a colony of shrieking bats. The orderly lines had dissipated several corridors prior, despite Anrid’s best attempts to the contrary. The cook, a portly fellow with ruddy cheeks and prickly brown hair, sat in his rocker next to the fire, eyes bulging.
“My apologies, Granger,” Jael hollered over the uproar. “We have guests. Please tell me you have some food. Any food. Bring it all out, mate. Every last crumb!”
Granger left his rocker and bolted to the larder on the other side of the kitchen, next to a pump that piped fresh mountain spring water into his massive sinks. But instead of throwing the doors open to feed the sea of growling bellies, he planted himself in front of said doors and brandished a wooden spoon.
Anrid’s whistle pierced the chaos. This time, the technique wasn’t as effective. But one by one she caught the rampaging goblins and guided them to benches around the long stone tables scattered on the dining side of the cavern. Jael assisted her, shooting vile looks at Kora who had made himself comfortable right in the doorway and watched them all with a smirk.
Medda planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek as he plunked her onto the bench next to her brother. He resisted the urge to wipe it away—the expression of affection had been more tongue than anything else.
Anrid paced around the table and tried to get everyone situated. Jael retreated to the safety of the kitchen and scowled at Granger. “Feed them now,” he growled, “before she loses control of them again.”
The cook arched a bushy eyebrow at him. “Feeding that lot will empty the larder.”
“I’ll get you more goods,” Jael promised, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just feed them. Please.”
Granger nodded, albeit cautiously as he scanned the mob on the other side of the cavern. “That lot’s half starved.”
Jael frowned in agreement while the cook summoned his nerve and dared to open his precious larder. Jael returned to the doorway, each step strengthening his resolve to murder his brother before the day was out.
“If I find out you had anything to do with this...” He let the threat trail into silence.
Kora sniffed and peered down his nose. “Why should I have anything to do with this?”
Jael didn’t grace that with a response, not when they both knew Kora was there lobbying for his position as Runemaster. “Make yourself useful and go find Trap, the housekeeper. Tell her we need reinforcements.”
Kora choked on a laugh at this but managed to school his features.
“Laugh all you want, but unless you find me some bodies, you’ll be the one rocking them to sleep tonight.”
His brother grinned and shoved off the wall. “Succinctly put, brother dear.”
“And baths.” Jael wrinkled his nose and peeked over his shoulder. “They all need scrubbing. We’ll worry about clothes tomorrow. Unless she can scrounge up some shirts from the rest of the staff. They would serve as sleeping clothes.”
Kora smirked at him and offered a mock bow. “Look at you, Jay. It’s like you were born for this.” He winked and spun on his heel, disappearing into the shadowy corridor beyond.
A horrible nausea yawned inside him. If he wasn’t careful, before this was over, he would find himself rocking little ones to sleep while Kora stole his job right out from under him.
He tried not to dwell on that too much. Surely his father would not put Kora into such an important position, not when he knew his sons’ strengths and weaknesses.
No. Runemaster was who Jael was, who he was born to be...that wasn’t going to change just because Kora had an itch to reinvent himself. Jael couldn’t imagine any future other than the one he had painstakingly mapped out for himself.
