by Danny Macks
“It’s fine. Harker died … elsewhere.” And that was definitely his fault. If only he hadn’t … Harker would still be alive.
Pol removed his hat for a moment.
“See Bess. She’ll help you out. She might need a hand with the stable. I’m done here.”
Pol put his distinctive red hat back on. “You two had a falling out, huh. I’m not surprised, her grieving and all.”
"No, I died in the fire. Didn't you know you were talking to a ghost?"
Pol laughed, but made a sign against evil just in case. He considered Foxfire. “Nice charger you have there. How ‘bout I put you up for the night, you see how much gold leaf you can get out of that saddle and I run the horse to the castle tomorrow? I’ll even split the reward, if there is one.”
Jeb smiled, “If you split the reward for Midnight.”
Pol’s face fell. “Stupidest idea I ever did, taking shares on that damn colt. The castle don’t want him and the speculators won’t let me sell him unless I can pay back at least the money they gave.”
“And you spent it.”
Pol nodded.
Jeb reached in his pocket and pulled out the bulk of the gold clippings Thesscore had given him. “I think this would be worth about five or six pounds, silver. How about I buy the colt, and his dam too? I’ll need a steady garron mare to get me where I’m going.”
“Where’s that?”
“South,” Jeb lied.
Chapter Nine – An Eye for the Weather
Jeb looked at himself in the mirror. A white linen kerchief hid the shortness of his black hair the same way the expertly applied makeup hid his bruised face. The Cupid’s bow painted on his lips drew the eyes away from the thin sharpness of his features, while the lacing on the sides of the dress emphasized that same thinness at his waist. The dress minimized the musculature in his shoulders while emphasizing his small breasts. All he would have to do is pretend it wasn't a disguise. Pretend this was who he really was and he could be “normal”. He even had the equipment to birth a child.
“You are wearing the wrong disguise,” Nimbus said as he held up a portrait of King Pious from the last twelftury in crown and ancient robes. He spoke aloud, as he did in dreams. “You should be wearing this disguise instead.”
“What if I don't want to wear a disguise?”
Jeb woke, shivering, without an answer.
“Nimbus, stop it!”
The remnants of the barn were dark, with only the barest hint of lightness in the eastern sky signaling the coming dawn. In the dark, Nimbus should have been easily visible, but he was nowhere to be found. Shivering and groaning with stiff muscles, Jeb pulled himself upright. He wasn't cold because of Nimbus. Everything was cold. His breath left his lips in great clouds and everything the moon touched sparkled.
Jeb pulled off Pol’s red hat and shook him. Pol snarled as he grabbed his hat back then gazed around in wonder.
“What is this stuff?”
Jeb made a quick hand sign, like a beast clawing downward. “I don’t know the right word; it’s like dew, but cold -- too cold. We need to look after the horses.”
Pol pulled his hat back on and snuggled back under his blanket. “The horses will wait till morning.”
Jeb untied the horses, stallion first, and they instinctively huddled together. He piled hay against one corner of the stone walls of the barn with his bare hands. Shivering, but moving quickly in the hope that the movement would warm him, he laid the waterproof canvas tarp from his bag across the top of the walls and held it down with stones, then herded the horses in the enclosure he had made. He smiled with satisfaction as he saw the horses warm breath rise to the tarp and linger. The colt was having trouble moving and Jeb had to carry it, shoving horses aside as he elbowed his way to the warmest part of his temporary enclosure. The colt’s dam was not happy at Jeb handling her baby, but he eventually got her settled, with the baby against her.
He was wobbling with fatigue by the time he was done. He contemplated elbowing his way back out of the enclosure and stealing a corner of Pol’s blanket, but the colt tugged his pants with his teeth. When Jeb looked down, the colt shifted against his mother, making room.
“You better not kick in your sleep,” Jeb said as he laid down. The colt did not reply, laid his head on Jeb’s chest and sighed loudly.
*****
Chad woke shivering.
His apartment, borrowed while Lord Libros was sleeping elsewhere, was well furnished and captured the western sun but contained arrow slits instead of glass windows and, of course, did not have a cooking fire. Chad grabbed the blanket off the floor, wrapped it around himself and searched for clothes.
Once fully dressed, Chad decided to keep the blanket and headed to the kitchen. Passing a window, Chad gasped at the sight: everything was covered in white. As the sun cleared the outer wall, the early rays exploded in sparkling light. Then he shivered and, remembering his goal, continued on his way.
“I think it’s called snow,” somebody said as Chad stepped into the kitchen.
“No, it’s too early for snow,” Wes replied from among the small early-morning crowd that had sought refuge in the kitchen’s heat. “According to the texts, snow falls from the clouds not … appears. There isn't a cloud in the sky.”
“What is it then, mister historian? Your guild is supposed to have answers to questions like this.”
“Give the man a break,” Chad snapped irritably. “His guildmaster is in a cell and he hasn't had breakfast yet.”
“The people are going to be frightened,” Ravnos said as he stepped into the room, wrapped in a blanket like Chad. “Erroll needs a lord.”
“The king won't appoint one,” Thesscore replied with a slow smile from next to the fire. “The servants tell me he hasn't admitted the old one has died and still talks to him from time to time.”
Chad didn't trust that smile or the way Thesscore looked at him. He was planning something and was going to involve Chad.
Ravnos followed Thesscore’s gaze. “Well, there’s certainly plenty of precedent and none of us can do it. If the king hadn't asked us to stay, we would have returned to our own lands well before now.”
“What are you two plotting?” Chad asked.
Thesscore rose, grinned, and clapped Chad hard on the shoulder. “We’re giving you a second name, Chad. How does it feel to be a lord?”
“You can’t just … just decide something like that!” Wes said.
“Watch us.” Thesscore turned to the kitchen, his hand still on Chad’s shoulder. “Attention everyone! Pass the word to anyone not here! Until the king says otherwise, you are to address this man as Lord Erroll and give him all the respect that title deserves. I will personally punish anyone who acts otherwise. Now, everyone together, ‘Long live Lord Erroll!’ ”
Wes didn't join-in the first time. Ravnos cuffed him lightly on the back of the head with a bare hand and Thesscore had the room repeat the cheer several times before he was satisfied.
*****
Jeb woke to the sound of hammering. All around him, people were adding temporary roofs to remnants of the buildings around him while others packed up to leave. The colt was missing, even though his mother was still nearby. He pulled himself out of his temporary enclosure and saw that the air was warming and had burnt away the white stuff like so much dew. Looking toward the corral, he saw the colt running with a quick gait he had never seen before, faster that a trot, but smoother. The colt was running laps around the posts as if the corral boards were still there.
“He does that every morning,” Pol said as he handed Jeb a mug of hot cider. “He does a funny hopping thing, then exactly twenty laps. I've won a couple bets counting it. Then he feeds till his belly is bursting or his mother kicks him away, falls asleep, and does it again.”
“What’s that gait?” Jeb asked as he warmed his hands on the mug.
“It’s called a tölt. His sire and dam do it, too. For such a quick pace, they can keep it up for
quite a while too. But neither of them are as mule-headed as this guy.” Pol pursed his lips and scowled. “A deal’s a deal, though.”
Jeb laughed. “I’m okay with mule-headed. We're two of a kind.”
Pol relaxed and jerked his head toward the tarp behind him. “That was your only blanket above my horses, isn’t it?”
Jeb shrugged. “My horses were in there too. We did well enough.”
Pol nodded and sipped his cider. “I saw Bess this morning. I think one of the doctors from the castle is sweet on her. I didn't tell her I'd seen you, like you asked, and she offered me your job at the Dancing Goat. I told her I’d think about it, but had to take care of the horses here first. She offered to put them up too.”
“Take the job.”
“You sure?”
Jeb nodded. “I'm done with this city.”
*****
Chad felt like the victim of a horrid joke. Every servant who passed him -- people who had ignored him before -- said “Good morning, Lord Erroll” and bowed as they passed. Chad tried hiding in the library, but the library staff were in on the joke and sometimes even managed to include more than one ‘Lord Erroll’ in a sentence when they found an excuse -- any excuse -- to speak to him. Finally, Chad decided to visit Lauren and even convinced himself he wasn't hiding by visiting.
“Ah, Lord Erroll!” the king yelled, the seneschal at his side, as Chad turned a corner.
Chad bit back a curse and bowed, staring at the floor. “I’m sorry, your majesty.”
“Whatever for? It was long past time the old Erroll retired anyway. I’m glad he found you. I’m thinking about following his example. Pious just turned sixteen, right?”
“He turned nine a few months ago, your majesty. I turned sixteen; It's you and I that share a birthday. Pious’ birthday is in the middle of the year.”
“Ah, so it is. That’s what I meant. And by the way, if anyone asks, tell them that your appointment was my idea. Erroll -- the old Erroll that is -- won’t mind.”
“I will, your majesty,” Chad said bowing again as he tried to sidle away.
“Come see me when you are free, m’lord,” Mercer, the seneschal, added as the king turned away. “We'll discuss your day-to-day duties and how they mesh with mine. I’ll also see to your new rooms.”
Chad glanced at the tower. “One more thing, your majesty?”
The king paused and a worried expression flashed across the seneschal's face, quickly squelched.
“May Lord Libros be freed from the Queen’s Room?”
“Of course. What is he doing stuck in a drafty room like that? He should be enjoying his first snowfall. Wonderful stuff, snow. I never thought I’d see it in my lifetime.”
Mercer smiled and nodded to Chad before turning to the king. “With your permission, your majesty, I’ll accompany Lord Erroll and get Lord Libros back where he belongs.”
*****
Chad grinned when Lauren stepped out the door of the tower and asked the guard, very politely, to return his personal items to his rooms. Chad bounded forward then hesitated, suddenly unsure how to act next.
Lauren cut through Chad’s hesitation by meeting him and giving him a quick, but firm hug, then throwing an arm over his shoulders as they walked back toward the library.
“Now that my sabbatical is over, I have some work to catch up on. I understand you’ve been busy in my absence, on things other than your studies,” he frowned in mock seriousness, then smiled. “By the way, congratulations on that Lord Erroll.”
Chad’s grin grew rueful. “A sabbatical. Is that what we’re going to call it?”
Lauren grinned back. “Of course, and now that it is over, you are due for a test. In the morning, I will be joining your tutor to review all you have learned while I was away. You have a night to prepare.”
Chad’s face fell. “Now? I thought we were going to celebrate.”
Lauren was still smiling but Chad had a sinking feeling he wasn’t jesting. “You’re a lord now. In a few years, you’ll consider a full night’s warning as a luxury.”
"You cheated me, Libros!" Thesscore's voice rang across the courtyard and everyone in the area turned to look.
Lauren sighed as Thesscore and several of his men strode across the lawn. "I did no such thing. I was in a cell."
"You took my silver and my son. The king himself has seen that you are not to be trusted, but no, Libros clevered himself out of that one too." Thesscore stopped so close that Lauren had to look up to meet his gaze, but Lauren held his ground and didn't back up a single step.
"I didn't cheat you. I challenged you, intellectually, and you lost. Take it like a lord."
Lauren held out his hands, well away from his weapons although every one of Thesscore's men had a hand on a sword. Chad struggled to follow his example and looked around at the gathering onlookers. If Thesscore attacked, there was no way he could claim afterward that it was self-defense.
Thesscore ground his teeth, growled, looked to the crowd, then stalked away. "We aren't done, you and I."
"I look forward to it." After Thesscore and his squad departed, Lauren took a deep breath and smiled at Chad. "Bullies are used to getting their way. The habit does not train them to be gracious losers. Now, about your test ..."
*****
It was nearly dark by the time Jeb reached a small cottage, well away from the city. He paused outside the gate that broke the low stone wall surrounding the property, still atop Foxfire, and debated what he was doing here.
“Keep moving!” a voice yelled from inside the cottage door, open only a finger width. “There’s a field just up the road where you are welcome to camp, but I got no room for refugees, travelers or any other kind of beggars inside my walls.”
“Aunt Cass, its me.”
The door opened slowly and a stocky woman with a crossbow heavy enough to punch armor peered out. “Aunt Cass? My brother, bless him, only had one daughter. In pants, I thought -- I mean is that you …”
“Jeb,” he interrupted, then winced at the harshness in his own voice and let out a long sigh. “My name’s Jeb.”
“The charger stolen? I’ll not have …”
“No.” Jeb sighed again. “It’s not stolen. I have a job with a lord -- a job interview actually, in a dress and everything. But it’s covered in soot, and I don’t know how to put on makeup and …”
“Makeup? What kind of ‘job’ needs makeup? People should judge you for who you are.”
Jeb dismounted and stepped into the light.
Cass scowled. “Your new ‘employer’ do that to your face?”
“No, he didn’t. He’s a good man.”
Cass didn't stop scowling but unnotched the crossbow. "Put the horses in the barn, then draw some water from the well. We’ll get you sorted out by morning.”
*****
A soft glow formed behind Jeb as he groomed the horses and got them settled down with proper blankets.
“I wondered how long it would take you to find me,” Jeb said as he looked up but didn't stop his brushing. “And no, I’m not going to stop what I’m doing to sign. You can hear me just fine.”
What did you think of the [clawing motion]? I expect more of that soon.
“It was gone by midday; I don't see how something like that could kill crops. You spent hours teaching me about that stuff, growing up, and I can't even tell people what it is called.”
Nimbus floated closer and the adult horses shied away. If you had just learned to read …
Jeb slashed through Nimbus’ hands, interrupting his reply. “I tried that, remember, and a tenth of the city burned down. In all the years you have been teaching me, you never got it through your empty head that I could be the wrong man. I know who you think I am, I’m not stupid, but what you have never understood is -- is that it doesn’t matter who I used to be a twelftury ago. I knew that as soon as you retaught me the rules for kingship."
Rules don’t matter …
Jeb slashed Nimbus�
�� hands again. “Of course they do! I wrote those rules. Look at me. Not who I used to be, but me, now. I don’t have wealth, I don’t have the lords or the church. Hell, I don’t even have a chess set. And I certainly don’t have ‘superiority in an emergency.’ The fire certainly proved that! You need to deal with who I am now, and who I am now -- Is. Not. King. I’m not big enough, I’m not smart enough -- despite all your wasted education -- and I’m certainly not male enough. You should be looking for him.”
What are you saying? Nimbus asked as he floated back away from Jeb.
“All of the lords in that castle have all of the qualities of kingship, even the thug that bruised my face. All of them can do the job better than me, this time around. Look them over and find your king. I don’t care if it is Pious or somebody else, but find somebody who is the king you want him to be now, not in a different lifetime. Find somebody who can actually use the information you've been teaching me all these years. Find somebody else.”
But you are the Winter King.
Jeb pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look. This morning I told that chirurgeon that Jeb died in the fire. Pretend for a moment that was true. I won’t come back in nine months, or eleven months like Midnight. If I had died in that fire, because of the soul magic that powers the King's Sword, I’d stay dead for over a hundred years. So for at least the next seventy years or so, I want you to pretend that is exactly what happened. Your king died. Help somebody else.”
Who?
“Your king died, remember? Figure it out.”
*****
Chad paused in his studies to light another candle as the post sunset dusk faded to black then gazed back at the books arranged around his new desk. The desk was solid wood, but painted in a pale rose and filigreed in gold with white heraldic roses. The mythical rose, symbol for the city of Erroll. Technically, he was a baron, just like technically, Thesscore was five baronies instead of one. Kibus had not been thirty baronies in a long time.
