Shadow of the Father (20 page)

And when he’d finished dabbing at the wounds, brushing the fur back over them with gentle strokes of his fingers, he stood over Yilon. Wiping his paws clean, he tilted his muzzle, still with the same warm smile. “There. All clean and ready for just about anything. Speaking of which,” he said when Yilon didn’t answer, “your scent tells me there’s one thing in particular you might be ready for right about now. I’m happy to assist you with that, if you like.” He wriggled his fingers.

Yilon’s ears flushed. “Oh,” he said, “no, I…”

Colian glanced back at the entrance. “Don’t worry,” he said. “We can afford real doors here. We won’t be disturbed.”

“Not worried about that,” Yilon mumbled. “I just can’t.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” The nurse’s muzzle became serious immediately. “Are you sure? Because it smells like…”

“I don’t want to,” Yilon said, louder.

Colian held both paws up. “All right. No offense meant. I’m not to everyone’s liking, I know that. Some people think I talk too much.”

“It’s nothing to do with you,” Yilon said. “Can we not talk about it?”

Colin bowed his head. “I deeply regret any offense I might have given.” His tone was serious, but when he raised his head, his muzzle held the same smile. “So how are you enjoying our weather recently? Autumn’s truly arrived. Though I wager we’ll get a warm spell before too long. We always do, before the winter comes.”

Yilon propped himself up on his elbows, taking a better look at Colian. The small fox’s green eyes reminded him of Sinch. Not the color, but the brightness, the way they always sparkled as if he were smiling. His ears always pointed straight up, and even his whiskers had a jaunty arch to them. “Do you know anything about the fox who attacked me?”

Colian shook his head. “I didn’t even know it was a fox until just this moment. Don’t you know anything about him?”

“Not much. His name.” Yilon hesitated before saying it. “Kites.”

He was afraid Colian would react, would say something wildly improbable like, “that’s my brother.” But the nurse didn’t, just shrugged and said, “There are many foxes in the city I don’t know, despite what my demeanor might suggest to you.”

“I didn’t think that about you,” Yilon said.

Colian waved a paw, dismissing the remark, but Yilon heard his tail wagging. His sheath throbbed, again, and he thought that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to take Colian up on his offer. Just with the paws, wrapping around his sheath and—

No. He sat up, sending a quick jolt through his stitched wounds.

“Careful, sir,” Colian said, reaching out but stopping just short of touching Yilon.

Reflexively, Yilon put a paw to his stomach. The stitches held, the only dampness under his fingers the cool of water. He regretted for a moment the distance he’d put between himself and the nurse. “So I can go?”

“I have no orders to keep you here, and no wish to hold you longer than needed.” Colian’s eyes drifted down. “But if you don’t mind waiting, I would be happy to see if there is a spare tunic in the house.”

Yilon followed the nurse’s glance to the bloodstains. “That would be very much appreciated,” he said.

“Done.” Colian dropped the wet cloth into his bag and picked it up. “I will be back in a moment.” He had disappeared down the stairs before Yilon realized that Colian had never even asked him his name.

When the fox reappeared, he was no more curious. He handed a neatly folded tunic to Yilon and gave him another wink. “I’ll leave you in privacy to dress. Should we not meet again, it has been a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Thank you, Colian.” Yilon put the tunic next to him on the bed.

He would have to get back to Velkan and Corwin soon, but for the moment he was in a relative sort of peace. He pulled his tunic off by the window, looking down at the city streets. Fox after fox, in pairs and trios or all alone, strolling or hurrying on errands. None wearing a blue vest. He watched a young vixen running from one shop to another, never coming out with anything. She wrung her paws and disappeared around the corner. He watched a couple arguing, until the tod cuffed the vixen across the muzzle. She dropped her head and followed him, tail dragging.

Across the street, the afternoon sun cast a long shadow across the roof of the building. Yilon barely glanced at it, until a gust of wind blew a handkerchief up from the street. Then he noticed the shadow on the roof. Though it was no different at first glance from any of the other shadows on the other buildings, his eyes kept returning to it once he’d noticed it. His fur prickled. He became convinced that someone was hiding in the shadows, watching him.

No matter how much he stared, nothing moved in the shadow. He was being silly, still jumpy from his run-in with Kites. And thinking of that, he needed to get back to tell Velkan and Corwin about Maxon and Kites, and maybe his mysterious rescuer. He took one last long look at the shadow on the roof, then returned and pulled on the clean tunic.

Colian had estimated his size well; the tunic was large, but it still fit. Yilon made sure he had all his things with him, and descended the stairs.

On his way down to the ground floor, he caught voices. “… don’t want him to see you, why did you even bring him here?”

And then the vixen, answering. “I wasn’t thinking. I’d just been through…”

Silence. Then Colian, again. “Take a little time.”

“Is he still here?”

“I haven’t heard him leave, but he must have.”

Another pause. Then the vixen said, “Go make sure.”

Yilon hurried down the rest of the stairs. He reached the front door just as he heard the click of the latch behind him. His paws fumbled at the handle, yanked the door open finally. He pushed through it and outside, not waiting to see whether Colian had seen him leave.

Now it was simply a question of finding his way back. The elderly fox who’d watched him from the window as they’d entered was gone, the street mostly empty. For a moment, he couldn’t connect this deserted street to the one he’d seen from the bedroom, until he realized that they were different streets. The bedroom must have looked out over the back of the house. Perking his ears in that direction, he heard the bustle of activity he’d been expecting. He retraced his path as best he could, using the setting sun as his guide, and soon came to Market Street, from which he found his way to Velkan’s mansion easily.

The wood grain of the mansion door reminded him of the dark wood in the house he’d just left. The entrance was different, though; this one double the width with a much more ornate frame. Stone foxes with gold eyes guarded the corners, their tails meeting over the center of the lintel. To either side, a stone fox stood looking outward, each brandishing a sword. All four foxes bore elaborately detailed cloth armor. Over the center of the door, a small shield bore the crest of Dewanne.

He was about to knock when the door opened out, nearly knocking him over. Corwin was saying to someone behind him, “…and come find me if there’s any news. One missing is one thing, but two— Yilon! Dear boy.”

He threw his arms around Yilon. “Did you get lost on the way here? I sent someone to look for you—twice, you know how it is sometimes—and they finally reported that you weren’t anywhere in the castle. So then I thought you might have gone to one of the alehouses, since you hadn’t eaten any lunch. But Min couldn’t find you in any of those. And then we started to worry, and I was just about to go look for you myself.”

The fox behind him, a plump servant dressed in a frilled tunic and wearing a gold bracelet, tilted his muzzle. “I thought you said you were going back to your—”

“Ahem,” Corwin said. “In any case, no need for that now. Thank you, Kevil.”

Kevil bowed and retreated back into the mansion. “Listen,” Yilon said, lowering his voice. “I was coming over here and I saw Maxon leaving. I followed him through the city.”

“Maxon?” Corwin said.

“Yes?” The steward stepped into the doorway from the mansion. He narrowed his eyes, looking down at Yilon. “Ah, there you are.”

He was wearing a green vest. Not blue—green. But he’d definitely been wearing a blue vest when he left the castle. Hadn’t he? And did his cold look mean he’d talked with Lady Dewanne, had confirmed with her that Yilon was not, in fact, related by blood to the land of Dewanne? “Have you been here all afternoon?” Yilon asked, stupidly.

“Most of it,” Maxon replied. “I have been arranging the search for the crown. Have you any new information to add?”

“I haven’t remembered anything more about the theft,” Yilon said. “Maybe…” He hesitated. Did he want to confront Maxon now about his wandering? If not for the vest, and the possibility that Maxon might expose his heritage, he might have. Both the steward and Corwin were staring at him. “Maybe if I talk to Corwin, we can remember something critical.”

Corwin nodded. “Of course. Shall we?”

“Actually,” Yilon said, “I still haven’t had lunch. And my stomach is killing me.”

He wasn’t just being facetious; besides being hungry, his wounds were still aching, and the walk hadn’t helped. He followed Corwin without complaint across the plaza to a small public house on the west side, where they found a vacant table in the corner of the restaurant. Corwin ordered a plate of cold roast fowl with bread on the side and two tankards of wine.

Yilon took a gulp of the wine as soon as it arrived. The sharp warmth settled in his stomach, spreading slowly through him as the taste faded from his tongue. Corwin, sipping more demurely, folded his arms on the table and leaned forward. “So,” he said, “what details did you remember that you wanted to discuss?”

Yilon shook his head. “I just wanted to get away from Maxon. Was he really there all afternoon? Did you see him?”

“I was in with Velkan after we left. Maxon came in… maybe half an hour ago? But he said he’d been organizing the search. Why?”

“I just followed him down past Market Street, to a big house that just said “Strad” over it. Do you know it?”

Corwin shook his head. “Except for Dun Hill, the far east side is terribly unfashionable. The less time you spend there, the better. Are you quite sure Maxon went there?”

“Yes. Well…” Yilon hesitated. “Was he wearing a blue vest this morning?”

“Now that you mention it, I believe he was.” Corwin flicked his ears. “I’ve no idea why he would have changed to that old green thing he had on just now.”

“So it was him. I was following the blue vest. I lost him once, but then found him again. He went into this house, and then… then someone else came out of it and chased me. And when he caught, and attacked me. He wanted to know what I was doing there.”

“Attacked you?” Corwin’s eyes widened. He half-rose from the table. “Are you hurt at all? We need to get you to a chirurgeon.”

Yilon shook his head. “Just scratches, and they’ve been tended to. I’m fine.”

“This Confirmation cannot come quickly enough.” Corwin’s muzzle took on a determined set as he sat back down. “I have never seen things this bad in the city. Never in all my days. Guards everywhere, and still.” His ears were still up. “You must not wander alone in the city, especially over on the east side. There are many dangers here that you are not aware of. Thank Canis you were not hurt more. But you said you were attended to?” Yilon nodded. “I had…”

He paused as the owner came back up to their table, putting down the plate of cold roast fowl and warm bread. Corwin thanked the elderly fox, who leaned down and whispered that he’d given them the best cut of the fowl.

Yilon’s first bite was good, tender and well-seasoned, even without sauce, and the bread was crunchy and slightly sour. He devoured several bites before continuing, having thought about how to tell Corwin about the mysterious vixen. Needing help to be rescued was embarrassing enough, but to have been rescued by a vixen was worse. “He was a nurse, too, and he cleaned the wounds at his place. They aren’t serious.”

“Oh ho.” That mollified Corwin’s concern over Yilon’s injuries. “Was he cute? That would explain why you were gone for so long.”

“No.” Yilon folded his ears back. “I mean, I guess he was. But nothing happened.”

Corwin chewed a piece of bread, watching Yilon thoughtfully. “I do hope I haven’t put you off with all those stories about nobility being discovered in terribly salacious but wonderfully pleasurable activities. There is a good deal of depravity in this town, and it would be nearly criminal for you not to enjoy at least some of it.”

“It’s not you,” Yilon muttered, filling his muzzle with meat that now had lost its zest.

“Don’t tell me you’ve already lost your desires, not at your young age. Please.” He placed a paw to his heart. “There are only so many tragedies these old eyes can witness. I beg of you not to add to them.”

“It’s not that.” Yilon chewed a piece of bread as loudly as he could.

“You’re not married, I know that. But you did bring a friend all the way across Tephos… someone closer than a friend?”

Yilon took another piece of fowl and chewed silently. Corwin sat back, drumming his fingers on the table. The silence stretched on and on until the older fox came to a decision. “Listen,” he said, leaning over the table again and tapping on the stone tabletop beside the plate. “Would it help you to know that Marco Buleva had man mistresses, late in his life? Or that Belix Durenin, the head of that house, sleeps with a common tailor girl because his wife only wants to sleep with other ladies now she’s borne him an heir? Or that—”

“That’s okay,” Yilon said. His ears felt flush. “That has nothing to do with me.”

“The point is,” Corwin said, “it’s in the vulpine nature. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Just be discreet. You don’t even have to be completely discreet, just enough that you’re not a public embarrassment. You can have a night with a cute male nurse. You can have him come to the castle whenever you want. Would you like to know how many young tods spent the night in the governor’s mansion on my watch?”

“No!” Yilon snapped. “I’m not going to be like that.”

Corwin frowned. “My dear, if Corwin made you to prefer males, there isn’t much you can do about that. I’m distressed that you would even want to.”