Borric grinned. ‘Not as I hear it, little sister.’
Erland put his arm around his brother’s neck and whispered in mock conspiracy, ‘It has come to my attention that two of the Prince’s squires were caught brawling a month ago, and the reason seems to be which would escort our sister to the Festival of Banapis.’
Elena fixed both brothers with a narrow gaze. ‘I had nothing to do with those idiots brawling.’ Then she brightened. ‘Besides, I spent the day with Baron Lowery’s son, Thorn.’
Both brothers laughed. ‘Which is also what we heard,’ said Borric. ‘Your reputation is reaching even to the Border Barons, little sister! And you not yet sixteen!’
Elena hiked up her skirts and swept past her brothers. ‘Well, I’m almost the age Mother was when she first met Father, and speaking of Father, if you don’t get to his study, he’ll roast your livers for breakfast.’ She reached a point a dozen paces away, swirled in a flurry of silks, and again stuck her tongue out at her brothers.
Both laughed, then Erland noticed Nicky standing close by. ‘Well, then, what have we here?’
Borric made a show of glancing around, above Nicky’s head. ‘What do you mean? I see nothing.’
Nicky’s expression turned to one of distress. ‘Borric!’ he said, almost whining.
Borric glanced down. ‘Why, it’s …’ He turned to his brother. ‘What is it?’
Erland slowly walked around Nicky. ‘I’m not sure. It’s too small to be a goblin, yet too big to be a monkey – save perhaps a very tall monkey.’
‘Not broad enough in the shoulders to be a dwarf, and too finely tailored to be a beggar boy—’
Nicky’s face clouded over. Tears began to form in his eyes. ‘You promised!’ he said, his voice catching in his throat. He looked up at his brothers as they stood grinning down at him, then with tears upon his cheeks he kicked Borric in the shins, turned, and fled, his half-limping, rolling gait not slowing him as he scampered down the hall, the sound of his sobs following after.
Borric rubbed at the barked shin. ‘Ow. The boy can kick.’ He looked at Erland. ‘Promised?’
Erland rolled his eyes heavenward. ‘Not to tease him anymore.’ He heaved a sigh. ‘He’s sure to run to Mother and she’ll speak to Father and—’
Borric winced. ‘And we’ll get another round of lectures.’
Then as one they said, ‘Father!’ and hurried toward Arutha’s private quarters. The guard stationed at the door, seeing the approaching brothers, opened the doors for them.
Once inside, the twins found their father seated in his favourite chair, an old thing of wood and leather, but which he preferred to any of the dozen others in the large conference hall. Standing slightly to his left were Barons James and Locklear. Arutha said, ‘Come in, you two.’
The twins came to stand before their father, Erland moving with a slight awkwardness, as his injured side had stiffened overnight. ‘Something wrong?’ asked Arutha.
Both sons smiled weakly. Their father missed little. Borric said, ‘He tried a beat and counter-lunge when he should have parried in six. The fellow got inside his guard.’
Arutha’s voice was cold. ‘Brawling again. I should have expected it, as Baron James obviously did.’ To James he said, ‘Anyone killed?’
James said, ‘No, but it was a bit close with the son of one of the city’s more influential shippers.’
Arutha’s anger surfaced as he slowly rose from his chair. A man able to hold emotions in check, the sight of such a display was rare, and for those who knew him well, unwelcome. He came to stand before the twins and for a moment appeared on the verge of striking them. He stared into the eyes of each. He bit off each word as he sought to regain control. ‘What can you two possibly have been thinking of?’
Erland said, ‘It was self-defence, Father. The man was trying to skewer me.’
Borric chimed in, ‘The man was cheating. He had an extra Blue Lady up his sleeve.’
Arutha almost spat as he said, ‘I don’t care if he had an extra deck up his sleeve. You aren’t common soldiers, damn it! You are my sons!’
Arutha walked around them, as if inspecting horses or reviewing his guard. Both boys endured the close perusal, knowing their father’s mood brooked no insolence.
At last he threw up his hands in a gesture of resignation and said, ‘These aren’t my sons.’ He walked past the twins to stand next to the two Barons. ‘They’ve got to be Lyam’s,’ he said, invoking the King’s name. Arutha’s brother had been known for his temper and brawling as a youth. ‘Somehow Anita married me, but bore the King’s ruffian brats.’ James could only nod in agreement. ‘It must be some divine plan I don’t understand.’
Returning his attention to his boys, he said, ‘If your grandfather still lived, he’d have you over a barrel, a leather strap in his hand, no matter your size or age. You’ve acted like children, once again, and should be treated like children.’
His voice rose as he walked back before them, ‘I sent orders for you two to come home at once! But do you obey? No! Instead of coming straight away to the palace, you vanish into the Poor Quarter. Two days later, Baron James finds you brawling in a tavern.’ He paused, then in a near shout, he exclaimed, ‘You could have been killed!’
Borric began to quip, ‘Only if that parry—’
‘Enough!’ cried Arutha, his temper frayed beyond his ability to control it. He gripped Borric’s tunic and pulled his son forward, off-balance. ‘You will not end this with a joke and smile! You have defied me for the last time.’ He punctuated this with a shove that sent Borric half-stumbling into his brother. Arutha’s manner showed he had no patience for the flippancies from his son he usually ignored. ‘I didn’t call you back because the court missed your peculiar sort of chaos. I think that another year or two on the border might have settled you down a bit, but I have no alternative. You have princely duties and you are needed now!’
Borric and Erland exchanged glances. Arutha’s moods were old business to them, and they had endured his anger – which was usually justified – before, but this time something serious was occurring. Borric said, ‘We’re sorry, Father. We didn’t realize it was a matter of duty that called us home.’
‘Because you are not expected to realize anything, you are expected to obey!’ shot back their father. Obviously out of patience with the entire exchange, he said, ‘I am done with you for now. I must compose myself for the business of dealing in private with the Keshian Ambassador this afternoon. Baron James will continue this conversation on my behalf!’ At the door, he paused, and said to James, ‘Whatever you need do, do! But I want these miscreants impressed with the gravity of things when I speak to them this afternoon.’ He closed the door without waiting for a response.
James and Locklear moved to either side of the young Princes, and James said, ‘If Your Highnesses would be so kind as to follow us.’
Borric and Erland both glanced at their life-long tutors and ‘uncles’ and then at each other. Both had an inkling of what was to come. Their father had never laid strap nor hand upon any of his children, to the profound relief of his wife, but that still didn’t prevent regular bouts of ‘fighting practice,’ when the boys were unruly, which was most of the time.
Waiting outside, Lieutenant William quietly fell into step with the twins and the Barons as they moved down the hall. He hurried to open the door, which led to Prince Arutha’s gymnasium, a large room where the royal family could practise their skills with sword, dagger, or hand-to-hand combat.
Baron James led the procession down the hall. At the door to the gymnasium, William again moved to open the door, for while he was second cousin