Brute (18 page)

While Aric had been pondering these things, Master Sighard had continued to quiz Falardo. Aric didn’t see the need to learn these places since he’d never go anywhere. But then the schoolmaster asked his student to locate Racinas, and Aric suddenly focused his attention. Falardo hemmed and hawed for a long time, until Master Sighard huffed and said, “North, idiot. Look to the north,” and Falardo pointed at a spot near the sea but far above Tellomer, up amongst the forests.

Aric listened as Master Sighard droned on about the importance of Racinas, which could be reached only by sea. It was an important source of income for the more southerly parts of the kingdom, from which it imported food and fabrics and many crafted goods. But it also exported the finest wool and dried fish of a sort that was especially popular amongst the Tellomerese nobility. There was gold up there too. And, it was said, Racinans were the most beautiful inhabitants of this kingdom or any other. Aric thought about Gray Leynham and Petrus the whore, and he was inclined to agree.

“Racinas was founded even earlier than Tellomer,” the schoolmaster was saying. “It was once an independent kingdom, before King Trichtheo conquered it four hundred years ago. But it was very small then, truly hardly more than a village full of priests and acolytes who served the Vale of the Gods.”

Without really meaning to, Aric raised his hand. “What is the Vale of the Gods?”

Master Sighard frowned, then evidently decided that the answer would make a legitimate addition to the lesson. “It’s one of our most ancient and holy sites. Only pilgrims who purify themselves properly are permitted to enter.” With every
p
sound, the schoolmaster sprayed spittle on the unfortunate children who were seated in the front. “There is a sacred pool in the Vale. It is the pool in which Ismundo bathed his wife, the goddess Ebra, after she was wounded in battle with demons. You
have
heard this story, have you not?”

Aric nodded. His great-uncle hadn’t bothered to send him to the little village temple, and the priests hadn’t exactly invited him in either; but when he was very young, his father used to tell him some of the tales of the gods and goddesses.

The schoolmaster sniffed. “Ismundo bathed Ebra there and she was healed, and because the pool still contains her blood, pilgrims who drink the water may ask for a blessing. If the gods are in a good mood, the pilgrims will be granted that blessing. But because Ebra suffered, so must they: they must always make a great sacrifice in return.”

“The price?” Aric whispered to himself.

“Pardon me?”

“Um, I’m sorry, sir. I was just thinking.”

“Please stick to tasks of which you’re capable,” Master Sighard replied tersely as he began rolling up the map.

The lesson ended soon after that. Quoen and the other children scampered away as soon as they were dismissed, but Aric approached the schoolmaster with his head bent. “Master? May I… I’d like to remain here in the library for a while, if I can. I won’t break anything!” he added hastily.

“You must remain quiet. And don’t disturb anyone.” Master Sighard waved his arm to indicate the library at large, where only four or five other people were leafing through papers or searching the shelves.

“Yes, sir.”

The schoolmaster gave him a final warning glare before hobbling out of the building.

Aric simply stood there for a very long time, so overwhelmed that he couldn’t imagine where to begin. Then he began to wander. He didn’t touch anything—he hadn’t yet worked up the courage—but he walked slowly, holding his head sideways so he could see the titles. He was pleased to discover that he could read many of them passably well. Some words he couldn’t puzzle out, but he’d been concentrating very hard on reading over the past weeks, and now as long as a word wasn’t too long or too esoteric, he could usually read it. An odd feeling gathered in his chest, and after a bit of examination he realized it was pride. Here he was, an ignorant, mutilated monster, but he could read. It was as if the entire rest of the world had a wonderful secret that had finally been shared with him.

He wasn’t certain how the books in the library were organized, but it didn’t especially matter because he wasn’t looking for anything in particular. He was astounded at the range of books he found: history, sciences of all kinds, religion, magic, animal husbandry, farming, warfare, sailing. Some were ancient and some looked brand new. And there were books full of stories. It was one of those that finally captured his attention, mostly because of the golden dragon that was embossed on its brown leather spine. He checked his hand to make sure it was clean, wiped it on his trousers to get rid of the sweat, and pulled out the volume. A quick perusal showed him that the book was full of bright pictures as well as words. With a broad smile, he took the book to the nearest chair and sat down to read.

“Brute!”

Aric looked up from a story about pirates and a princess, then gasped and scrambled awkwardly to his feet. “Your Highness! I’m… Lord Maudit said I can have lessons and Master Sighard brought us here today and then—”

Prince Aldfrid put up a hand. “It’s fine,” he said with a grin. “I was just pleasantly surprised to see you. You look good.”

“Um, thank you.”

The prince wore riding clothes and, truth be told, smelled slightly of horses. His long yellow hair looked windblown and tangled. And he had a thick book tucked under one arm. “I was just in your village the other day, inspecting the bridge. You’ll be happy to know that I stayed suitably far from the edge this time. They haven’t any giants left to rescue me.”

Aric hid his own grin by ducking his head. “I’m glad you stayed safe, Your Highness.”

“Yes, well, I’m sure I’ll do some other damned foolish thing soon and end up swallowed by a sea monster or cursed by a witch or something. But how are you getting on, Brute? Lord Maudit told me you’d asked for lessons.”

“Yes, sir. I’m very grateful for them.”

The prince pointed at the book that was still in Aric’s hand. “And putting them to good use, I see. That’s good. I was never much of a reader myself—no patience for it—but one of my brothers, Clithe, he nearly lives in this room. He’d be here right now if father hadn’t sent him off to negotiate a treaty with the Gernushians. I’m not trusted with such matters myself. Too foolhardy.”

“Oh, sir, I’m sure you’re—”

“Every bit as foolhardy as they say.” The prince shrugged happily. “Also headstrong and impatient. But how are you getting along, Brute? Apart from the lessons, I mean.”

“Very well, sir. Everyone is very kind to me and I’m very comfortable.”

“And the prisoner?”

Aric tried not to shift from foot to foot. “He’s… he’s very little trouble, Your Highness. I’m fulfilling all my duties.”

“I’m sure you are.” Prince Aldfrid’s eyes were sharp, even though his tone remained easy. “You’re not bothered by the nightmares?”

“They’re… they’re unpleasant. But more so for him than for me.” Damning himself silently for revealing too much, Aric bit his tongue.

The prince gave him a long look before nodding. “How is he?”

Aric had no idea how to answer that question. He didn’t know what Aldfrid wanted to hear. So he settled on the truth. “He’s suffering, sir. He… I think he tries not to fall into despair, but his life is so miserable. And I think some of the other… keepers abused him.” There. Now he was going to be thrown out of the palace and Gray would be alone again. For the hundredth time, Aric wished he were capable of the happy little webs of mistruth that others seemed to spin so easily.

But Prince Aldfrid didn’t look angry. Only sad and thoughtful. He stroked his mustache a few times and then said, “Would you like to borrow a book, Brute? Take it back to your room to read at your leisure, I mean.”

“I….” Aric shook his head slightly, trying to clear it enough to make sense of the conversation. “I’d like that very much. Thank you, sir.”

With another nod, this one brisk, the prince gave a small smile as well. “Excellent. Follow me. I have just the book in mind.”

Aric wasn’t certain what to do with the dragon book, so he ended up leaving it on the chair. Even with his long legs, he had to walk quickly to catch up with the prince, who had turned down one of the room’s short corridors of bookcases. “Hmm, let me see. Should be around here someplace…. Ah!” The prince tugged a slim green volume from the shelf and held it out. “Here you are. Can you remember where to return it when you’re finished with it?”

Aric looked around carefully so as to memorize the exact location. “Yes, sir.”

“Excellent. After you return it, you may borrow another if you like. But I’ve a meeting to attend.” He patted the book that was still tucked under his arm. “We need to improve the road between here and the bridge, and somehow I seem to have acquired that responsibility. It’s the most boring thing imaginable. Almost makes me wish I’d simply plunged off that damned cliff.”

The prince gave Aric’s arm two hearty pats and then hurried away.

Aric stood there, still more than slightly confused. And then his stomach gave a loud, embarrassing rumble, reminding him that it was lunch time. He wanted to practice with the guards that afternoon too, so he needed to hurry. He detoured by the chair to replace the dragon book onto the shelves and then rushed out of the library and to the tower. He’d drop off the green book there before grabbing lunch and joining the guards.

C
APTAIN
J
AUN
was of the opinion that a well-prepared guardsman ought to do more than practice his weaponry and horsemanship. A guard ought also to be capable of climbing the defensive walls without losing his breath, and carrying sacks and boxes of supplies without collapsing under their weight. If he was stripped of his armor and arrows and blades, he still ought to be able to defeat an enemy through the strength of his hands and legs. The guards grumbled about it under their breath, but Aric was thankful. He wouldn’t have been able to join the guards in their training if all they did was shoot arrows or swing swords, and he’d never been on horseback in his life. But he could run with them and lift heavy chunks of iron with them, and even one-handed he could wrestle with them. He liked to do these things not only because they passed the time and kept him fit, not only because they lent him an easy sense of male camaraderie, but also because while he trained his mind was too occupied to dwell on other things.

Today the sky was overcast, and the air was chill enough that most members of the palace staff wore sweaters or cloaks. But after two hours of running around and leaping over obstacles, Aric and the guards were shirtless and drenched in sweat. When Captain Jaun told them they could have a brief break, the men clustered around a cistern, drinking deeply and splashing one another with the cold water. Aric took a metal scoopful and simply dumped it over his head, which made the others laugh.

A barrel-chested man with a face as badly scarred as Aric’s clapped him on the shoulder. “Y’oughta give up that cushy position and join the guard instead.”

Aric held up the stump of his left arm. “A one-handed guard?”

“So we won’t make you an archer. You could just stand at the front and point that ugly face of yours at intruders and they’d scamper away like mice.”

The men laughed again, and so did Aric. Comments like that were nothing like the tormenting he’d endured as a boy. In fact, these sorts of comments only made him feel more accepted, because the guards teased one another all the time: this one because he was too fat, another because he was too thin; this one because his wife was pregnant with their tenth child, that one because he was a newlywed. They gave each other nicknames like Big Ears or Rabbit (for prominent front teeth and a distinctly twitchy little nose), and nobody took offense. They were like an especially large and unruly group of brothers, and at times Aric ached to join them. Now, just knowing that they would allow him to do so was enough to bring him joy.

“Enough with the tea party, girls!” shouted Captain Jaun. “I want to see you running up those stairs as if all the demons of hell were nipping at your heels!”

Most of the men groaned, but Aric smiled and loped away. He was the first one to reach the stairs.

The sun set early this time of year, and it was already dark by the time Aric went to fetch his dinner. Alys wasn’t anywhere in sight at the kitchens, though, which worried him until an older woman with long gray braids gave him a bright smile. “Her man’s just returned this afternoon, thin as a broomstick and with his eyes all moony over her. We won’t be seeing either of them for a day or two at least.” The cooks and scullery maids and pot boys all laughed uproariously, and Aric understood that the kitchen staff was a family as well.

He carried the dinner buckets back to the tower, where, as usual after dark, the guard at the door lit a candle for him from a nearby torch. That was easier on Aric than trying, one-handed, to light a candle with flint. Nobody except Aric had entered his chamber since the first days after he’d arrived, which was generally a good thing, because it meant nobody saw that Gray was clean and shaved and decently fed.

“Y-you must have had a g-g-good day,” Gray said as Aric lit the candles in his room.

Aric turned to their dinners and, as always, began to transfer some of his own fish stew to Gray’s bowl. “How can you tell?”

“You were h-h-humming.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“D-don’t be. It’s nice.”

Aric smiled shyly and tore off a hunk of his soft bread. Gray had looped and tucked a quilt around himself in some elaborate fashion. He held out his hands as Aric unbolted the cell and stepped inside. “Th-thank you,” Gray said when Aric gave him the food. “D-d-did you enjoy the library?”

Although Gray’s question reminded him of the strange conversation with the prince, Aric grinned. “It was wonderful. Amazing. Like something from a story.”

“There’s a ch-chair in the northwest corner—I s-suppose it’s still there, likely been there for d-decades—that’s especially n-nice. In the afternoon, the s-s-sun shines through those panes of colored g-glass, and if you sit in that chair, it’s l-like you’re under water.”