could try,” he said with an evil, rehshing grin. “Now listen. Seein’ Darran’s in his sickbed you’ll need to stand in for him today, Barl save us all.”
“Of course I shall stand in for him!” Willer snapped. “Who else could be entrusted with such an important task? Certainly not you.”
He throttled the impulse to kick the little pissant where, on reflection, it wouldn’t do much damage. “Look, you, stop flappin’ your bloody lips and
listen.
There’s an important announcement to be made on another matter. Get the staff together in the foyer while I—”
“Announcement? About what? Asher, I
demand
you tell me—”
“Listen,
I said! Or are you deaf as well as a dimwit? Get the staff together, grounds folk and stable as well as Tower, while I see how the prince wants to proceed. All right? Understand? Or do I have to draw you little pictures?”
“And who are you to give such orders?”
“I’m the man who’s goin’ to punch you in the nose if you don’t do as you’re told!”
The sea slug’s eyes narrowed in fury. “You have no authority over me.”
“Want to bet? If you don’t about-face right now and get the staff assembled, I’ll see you dismissed and chucked out of here on your pimpled fat arse. And don’t think for a moment Gar won’t back me up, ‘cause we both know he will.”
“You arrogant, insupportable
bastard.
One day,” said Willer, wheezing with rage, “there will be a reckoning for you! One day I shall strip you naked before the world and you’ll be seen for the rotten, pernicious, power-hungry—”
Closing the door in Willer’s face made him feel a lot better. A hot bath and some food for his empty belly would’ve made him feel better still but there wasn’t time for that. So he washed quickly out of his privy basin, haphazardly scraped the bristles off his face with a razor one stropping short of sharp, brushed the worst of the sweat and dirt from his hair, hauled on clean clothing and went upstairs to rouse Gar.
This time when he knocked on the royal suite’s front doors they swung open on soundless hinges. There was nobody on the other side.
“Smart-arse,” he muttered, and entered. Crossed the empty sun-striped foyer and took the stairs up to Gar’s bedchamber. With a brief knuckle-rap on the closed door he opened it, and was confronted with darkness.
“Gar? You in here?”
All the bedroom’s curtains were drawn: only the merest silver of sunshine slid between them to leaven the gloom. Asher banged and bruised and cursed his way to the nearest window and pulled back the brocade hangings.
“If I’d wanted light,” said Gar, “I would’ve made some.”
He was slumped in an overstuffed armchair, still ” dressed in the clothes he’d pulled on last night in Durm’s office. His pale hollow cheeks were stubbled with gold; grief was smeared into dark shadows beneath his half-closed eyes. The sumptuous bed was unslept in.
Asher crossed his arms and bumped his backside onto the windowsill. “When Nix said rest, I think he meant in abed.”
“And if I’d wanted company,” Gar added, eyebrows lowering, “I would’ve sent for someone.”
He shrugged. “Darran says a good servant anticipates his employer’s wishes.”
Gar let his bruised, unbandaged head fall against the padded chair back. “I’m sure he does. But since when do you give a fat rat’s fart what Darran has to say?”
“I don’t. How are you feelin’? Collarbone all right?”
Gar lifted his left arm. Waved it overhead, and let it drop back to his lap. “Fine.”
“Your bumps and bruises?”
“Also fine. Nix is an excellent physician.”
“Good.”
An awkward silence fell. Asher took refuge in it, frowning at the carpet. Gar looked bad. Brittle, as though one word too many, one breath too deep, would shatter him.
But he couldn’t say nothing.
He looked up. Felt his eyes burn, his throat tighten. With eyes wide open saw again the blood. The bodies. He
“Of course I shall stand in for him!” Willer snapped. “Who else could be entrusted with such an important task? Certainly not you.”
He throttled the impulse to kick the little pissant where, on reflection, it wouldn’t do much damage. “Look, you, stop flappin’ your bloody lips and
listen.
There’s an important announcement to be made on another matter. Get the staff together in the foyer while I—”
“Announcement? About what? Asher, I
demand
you tell me—”
“Listen,
I said! Or are you deaf as well as a dimwit? Get the staff together, grounds folk and stable as well as Tower, while I see how the prince wants to proceed. All right? Understand? Or do I have to draw you little pictures?”
“And who are you to give such orders?”
“I’m the man who’s goin’ to punch you in the nose if you don’t do as you’re told!”
The sea slug’s eyes narrowed in fury. “You have no authority over me.”
“Want to bet? If you don’t about-face right now and get the staff assembled, I’ll see you dismissed and chucked out of here on your pimpled fat arse. And don’t think for a moment Gar won’t back me up, ‘cause we both know he will.”
“You arrogant, insupportable
bastard.
One day,” said Willer, wheezing with rage, “there will be a reckoning for you! One day I shall strip you naked before the world and you’ll be seen for the rotten, pernicious, power-hungry—”
Closing the door in Willer’s face made him feel a lot better. A hot bath and some food for his empty belly would’ve made him feel better still but there wasn’t time for that. So he washed quickly out of his privy basin, haphazardly scraped the bristles off his face with a razor one stropping short of sharp, brushed the worst of the sweat and dirt from his hair, hauled on clean clothing and went upstairs to rouse Gar.
This time when he knocked on the royal suite’s front doors they swung open on soundless hinges. There was nobody on the other side.
“Smart-arse,” he muttered, and entered. Crossed the empty sun-striped foyer and took the stairs up to Gar’s bedchamber. With a brief knuckle-rap on the closed door he opened it, and was confronted with darkness.
“Gar? You in here?”
All the bedroom’s curtains were drawn: only the merest silver of sunshine slid between them to leaven the gloom. Asher banged and bruised and cursed his way to the nearest window and pulled back the brocade hangings.
“If I’d wanted light,” said Gar, “I would’ve made some.”
He was slumped in an overstuffed armchair, still ” dressed in the clothes he’d pulled on last night in Durm’s office. His pale hollow cheeks were stubbled with gold; grief was smeared into dark shadows beneath his half-closed eyes. The sumptuous bed was unslept in.
Asher crossed his arms and bumped his backside onto the windowsill. “When Nix said rest, I think he meant in abed.”
“And if I’d wanted company,” Gar added, eyebrows lowering, “I would’ve sent for someone.”
He shrugged. “Darran says a good servant anticipates his employer’s wishes.”
Gar let his bruised, unbandaged head fall against the padded chair back. “I’m sure he does. But since when do you give a fat rat’s fart what Darran has to say?”
“I don’t. How are you feelin’? Collarbone all right?”
Gar lifted his left arm. Waved it overhead, and let it drop back to his lap. “Fine.”
“Your bumps and bruises?”
“Also fine. Nix is an excellent physician.”
“Good.”
An awkward silence fell. Asher took refuge in it, frowning at the carpet. Gar looked bad. Brittle, as though one word too many, one breath too deep, would shatter him.
But he couldn’t say nothing.
He looked up. Felt his eyes burn, his throat tighten. With eyes wide open saw again the blood. The bodies. He
Similar Books
