A Call to Arms: Book One of the Chronicles of Arden (19 page)

Heidi and Carmen both giggled and Lady Mrifa clapped her hands together. “Well, Joel failed to mention your charm to us, Gibben,” she replied in a flattered, pleased tone. She winked at her son, lowering her voice a pitch. “Nor did he warn us of how handsome you are.”

A deep blush rose to Joel’s cheeks. “
Mother!
”

Mrifa laughed as she put an arm around her son’s back. “Why don’t you show Gibben around the house before midday meal? Tabitha is preparing a stew for all of us.” She hesitated before pressing gently, “Shall I also have the servants prepare one of the guest suites for your friend?”

Joel floundered, but Gib was fortunate enough to still be in control of his own voice. “Oh, you don’t need to go through that trouble, Lady Mrifa. I’m perfectly content to sleep on a mat in Joel’s room. We’ve shared a room at Academy for three moonturns now, after all.”

“Are you certain?” Mrifa asked in a measured voice. “Surely you would enjoy some privacy.”

Gib nodded his head adamantly. “Lady, truly, it is fine. In fact, I dare say I would be lonesome if I were to have a room all to myself. I shared a bedroom with two brothers until the day I moved into the dormitory with Joel. I think I would lose sleep if I were to suddenly be alone for the first time in my life.”

“Very well,” replied Mrifa. She smiled. “I’ll have a cot and some blankets brought up to Joel’s room for you.”
 

Gib’s eyelids fluttered open, his body bathed in heat as he lay upon the cot the family servant, Otos, set up for him the previous night. Sunlight poured in through the glass pane above his head, but it was hard to judge the time.
Well past sunrise, at the very least
, Gib wagered. At Academy, the sentinel trainee had always risen at dawn, just as the first traces of warm golden hues had begun to appear in the sky, but in this dreamscape world of marbled hallways and beautiful stained glass, it was easy to ignore the passage of time. No chores needed to be done or lessons learned. Gib wondered how the nobility ever found the motivation to leave the comfort of their own beds with so little responsibility in their lives. He pulled the quilted blanket Lady Mrifa insisted he use closer to his chin and turned onto his side.

Across the room, Joel slept peacefully, his slender body wrapped in blankets and dark hair wild and tussled. His mouth was set in a smile, as though he might be enjoying a dream. Gib couldn’t help but smile too. Something about Joel Adelwijn caused Gib’s pulse to quicken every time he laid eyes upon his roommate. Although Gib didn’t understand these awakening feelings for his friend, he didn’t want to suppress them.
I want to tell him. But I also don’t want things to become strange between us. I’ve finally managed to get him to open up to me a little. Chhaya’s Bane, I can’t ruin that now
.

Gib was unsuccessful at holding back a yawn. Despite his restful slumber, the whirlwind of events from the day before had drained him. After introductions, he’d been taken on a tour of the entire Adelwijn estate. From the grand dining room to the private study and even the solar room on the second floor, a dazzling space where the roof had been replaced by glass and the flooring was a tiled mosaic masterpiece, he’d seen it all. Gib had been awestruck. If the academy building was magnificent, then the Adelwijn estate might well have been built for royalty. Never before had Gib been inside such an extravagant, beautiful home.
I still can’t believe I’m here. This sleeping chamber alone is nearly bigger than the entire farmhouse and worth ten times it
. He yawned again, louder this time.

The sound caused Joel to rouse. The mage trainee let out a placid sigh as he turned onto his side. For a moment he remained still, but then he blinked twice and opened his blue eyes. His gaze landed on Gib almost immediately, and the sentinel trainee found himself blushing as he was regarded in silence through thick, dark lashes.

“Good morning,” Gib called out, running a hand through his unruly curls in an attempt to flatten them.

Joel brought a hand to his mouth as he yawned. “Likewise. Did you sleep well?”

“Better than I have in a long time,” Gib replied. “I don’t want to get out of bed. It’s so comfortable.”

The older boy chuckled as he stretched his arms into the air. “Well, that’s not an option, Gibben, unless you would like to skip your morning meal. Tabitha only serves breakfast until the seventh bell toll of the day. After that, you’re on your own until dinner.”

Gib groaned. “I don’t think I can wait that long for a meal.” As he rolled the blankets down the length of his legs and to his feet, Gib’s stomach rumbled.

“Mother’s rules.” Joel stretched as he turned down the sheets on his own bed. “She has always roused my siblings and me early, even on days of rest. She says it makes us more responsible.” The older boy cleared his throat, regarding Gib from the corner of his eye. “Thank you, by the way.”

Gib turned. “What do you mean?”

“For coming home with me this week.”

“Are you joking? I should be thanking
you
,” Gib remarked with a snort.

Joel’s face remained solemn. “I mean it, Gib. You’re one of the only friends I have. It’s been nice to spend more time with you.” A fleeting smile passed over his lips. “And it will be nice to not have to face my eccentric family alone tomorrow during the feast.”

Gib choked a nervous laugh. “Right. Bring the bumbling farm boy along to divert the attention away from you. You’re so clever.”

The mage trainee’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Fortunately, there is still a day of leisure before the feast. I was thinking perhaps we could go out on the town this morning. Despite the snow, Midwinter Festival is still in full swing. There is much to see. Is that something you’d be interested in doing?”

“You mean the nobility actually spend time outside during the winter?” Gib asked in mock jest.

A hearty laugh made its way from between Joel’s lips. “Wait until you taste some of the food there. Then you’ll understand what truly motivates us wealthy folk to brave the snow and ice.”

“Food?” Gib asked, interest piqued.

Again, Joel broke down into fits of laughter. “Yes, lots of food. I’ll even treat you to a freshly fried cinnamon fritter if you’d like. The bakery on Traders Row always sells them during Midwinter. Tell me, have you ever eaten a proper fritter before?”

The sentinel trainee shook his head. “No. Never.”

Joel’s eyes widened and he gasped in shock. “Oh, you
are
missing out. Fritters have to be one of the most delicious sweets in the world. Egg whites, cream, wheat, and ale mixed together and fried in a pan and then sprinkled with sugar and cinnamon. In the autumn, you can even find them made with fresh apples or raspberries.”

Gib’s mouth began to water. “That sounds wonderful.”

“They truly are. We’ll find some today at the festival. But first, baths and breakfast before Mother has our heads.”
 

After baths and a hearty breakfast consisting of eggs, milk, and steaming bread, Joel and Gib prepared to venture outside. It quickly became apparent they wouldn’t be allowed out the door until Lady Mrifa had bundled them inside wool cloaks and mittens, wrapped scarves around their necks, and plopped hats onto each of the boy’s heads. Gib’s mousy curls spewed out from beneath the hat as he adjusted it into place. He couldn’t help but smile as he listened to Mrifa fret over her son.

“Joel, make sure you keep that hat over the top of your ears. It’s bitter outside and I don’t want you to come home with frozen extremities.”

Joel sighed with impatience as his mother checked to be certain his cloak was properly buttoned. “I think you’ve forgotten, dearest Mother, this is the fifteenth winter I’ve seen. I’m at an age where I’m capable of donning proper clothing without guidance.”

Mrifa smoothed her son’s onyx waves, smiling sadly at him. “It’s my job to be unbearable and overprotective. Let me fuss over you a little bit longer. You’re the only son I have left who will allow it.”

“Indeed,” Joel replied with a roguish smile. “I’m sure it’s been a long time since Liro allowed you to fawn all over him in such a way.”

Mrifa’s soft features pinched. “Your brother has been cold for some time now.”

Joel set a hand on his mother’s shoulder and uttered a quick apology. “That was out of line. I apologize.”

“No, it’s true,” Mrifa responded, her voice sullen. “Your brother has treated you so unfairly. He isn’t the same person he once was. It’s sad that Liro’s ambitions have become more important than kin.” She leaned up to kiss Joel on the cheek. “He’ll come around though. You’ll see.”

The mage trainee nodded stiffly and looked over to Gib. “We should go.”

Gib shuffled his boots across the tiled floor as he made his way toward the door, where the servant girl, Tabitha, was already waiting to let them out. Joel followed closely.

“Now don’t be gone too long,” Mrifa warned from behind them. “There is still much work to be done before the feast tomorrow. Behave and don’t eat so much that you make yourselves sick.”

Gib nodded his head in acknowledgment and saw Joel do the same. Tabitha skirted in front of them and pulled the heavy oak door open just enough for the two boys to be able to slip past. Gib let out a startled gasp as a wave of frigid air slapped him hard in the face and caused every hair on his body to stand on end.
Oh, this was a grand idea. Really great
. He balked openly, but a moment later, he felt Joel’s hands on his back, encouraging the sentinel trainee to move forward. He shivered. He wasn’t sure if the spasm had been induced by the cold or the touch of the other boy.

Joel’s voice was right behind him, in his ear. “Ready?”

Gib could barely force a nod. He pulled the scarf tighter around his neck and stepped into the blistering cold. He was almost immediately forced to squint his eyes to shield himself against the bright day. For the first time in sennights, the clouds had receded enough for the sun to peek through. The world was buried under a white, hardened glaze, and the sunlight reflected off the snow like a glass mirror.

Someone had taken the liberty of shoveling a fresh path through the courtyard—most likely one of the servants.

“Otos has been busy I see,” Joel remarked under his breath.

Gib couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt blossom in his chest. The Adelwijn family had been gracious enough to allow him to be a guest in their home and here he was, sleeping until an unacceptable time and being useless. Gib promised himself to help with chores when he returned from the festival. He didn’t care if Joel balked at the suggestion.

The two boys left the Adelwijn estate behind, and for a while, the only sound was the crunch of their boots pressing into the snow as they walked. The drifts had transformed Silver City into a magnificent wonderland of sparkling towers and crystalized houses. Gib was grateful Joel was there to lead the way. Everything looked so different when it was buried under ice.

As they neared the famous street known as Traders Row, Gib was amazed at the sheer number of people who had chosen to come outside. Joel hadn’t been joking when he’d told Gib the residents of Silver City refused to allow the snow to ruin their festival. People of varying social statuses lined the busy street. Fashionably dressed noblemen and ladies were strolling from one vendor to the next with a line of servants following, carrying the purchases for their masters. Even more common folk were present. Some of them were without mittens or hats, but their boisterous laughter and generously filled mugs of ale told Gib they were enjoying the festival despite the bitter temperature.