“Good work, lad.Come help with the wagon,” Roth called.
Yfin laid the string out on the bench.It was quite a pile of dead birds.Jerrold squinted at it, then darted a suspicious glance at the Keep tower.Quite a pile.Almost more than one lad could do in such a short amount of time.Without help.
“Jerrold,” Bercie called, mounting the wagon.Roth and Yfin had the last of the baskets and sacks in hand and were carrying them toward the gatehouse.
Jerrold gathered up the reins and climbed up.He clucked at the horses, turned the wagon, and headed for home.
Once they were past the gates, his mother spoke.“It’s a good thought.”
“Don’t trust them,” Jerrold half-grumbled.
She gave him a disapproving look.“They’re right, that gatehouse is no place to raise those children, or to bear a child for that matter.Doesn’t Petro’s place have water cisterns with taps?”
Jerrold grunted.“If they still work.”
“Petro could supervise repairs.”She settled back on the wagon bench.“Would do him good to get out of the tavern and do some honest work.”
Jerrold nodded absently.To that point, it would do himself good to be able to stop in for an ale and not get harassed by the old man.
Roth eased openthe door with his shoulder and let Yfin go first with his load.“Mostly foodstuffs,” he said to Amari, who smiled at the sight.
“I got a mess of pigeons,” Yfin said as he set his load on the table.
“And now you are going to dress them for me,” Amari told him firmly.“Outside.And save the feathers.”She tossed him an empty sack.
Yfin drooped and his face fell.“Yes, A’mum.”
Roth ruffled the boy’s hair.It wasn’t his favorite chore either.“I’ll help,” he said.“You go get started.”
Yfin shot out the door.
“That went better than I’d hoped,” Orval said.“I know neither of you approve, but let’s face it, staying here makes us dependent on their charity.That might not last.”
“It isn’t charity when you are the rightful Lord.”Rosalind shook her head.“And if King Xyrath learns you have surrendered the Keep, he will not be pleased.”
“Surrender?”Roth scoffed.“Orval didn’t surrender the Keep.He just found a way to integrate himself further into the community, solve a problem for them, and keep us all the safer.”He reached for an apple in one of the baskets, and bit into it.“In point of fact, I am learning why Satia and Xyrath think you are so dangerous.”
That caught their attention.
“I am not dangerous,” Orval said slowly.“Anything but.”
“Oh, yes you are, both of you.”Roth swallowed and gestured with his apple.“Orval, you may not wield a blade or have an army to commend, but you have ideas, and even more than that, you propose them and make them work.Turning thought into action is not an easy task,” Roth shook his head.“And yet here you are, doing it.Changing minds.Changing hearts.”Roth pointed at Amari.“Showing sympathy and a desire to fend for yourselves.Welcoming an elder into our midst.Earning their respect, and maybe, eventually, their trust.”Roth took another bite of the fruit.
“You may regret inviting the old man,” Rosalind pointed out.
Orval snorted.“Can’t be any worse than Aunt Xydell.”
Roth laughed, bowed, and headed out to help dress the pigeons.
Chapter Nine
In the Palace of Xy
For Tassos, the worst part wasn’t the helplessness; he couldn’t stop the puking, the shitting, the shivers that shook the bed.In the days, maybe weeks, that followed, he couldn’t even lift his head to drink the offered water.Nora took care of all of that, briskly, without emotion.No sympathy to be found in those dark eyes.
The worst part wasn’t even the pain.His body had clearly decided to punish him for every sip of letheon, every moment spent in an unmoving stupor on cold streets and damp alleys.It was agony to breathe unless he took slow, shallow breaths.His arms and legs were wracked with cramps and spasms of the worst kind.Not to mention his headaches, which lashed out at the slightest tilt of his head.
No, the worst, the absolute worst was when, after cleaning his body, his bed, and the room, Nora left him alone, with a small candle flickering on the table nearby.
