Shadow of the Father (28 page)

“Hmph.” That stopped her for only a moment. “What didn’t you want to do? Come all the way out here to the edge of the country?”

“Wrong edge,” he murmured half to himself, then said to her, “Have you ever been out of Dewanne?”

“I’ve seen the things that come here from the capital, the fashions my mother cooes over, the woodworking and weapons. It’s nothing we couldn’t do here. Why do we need anyone from outside the valley?”

“One of the only things I liked about the capital,” he said, “was that there were people there from all over. You could get all kinds of different foods, clothes, rugs—anything you liked.”

“I don’t even need to live in the city,” she said. “I could survive in the mountains if I had to.”

“I remember. That’s where everyone’s looking for you.”

“If they’re looking at all.” She peeked around another corner, then hurried around it. Yilon ran to catch up, finding himself at the side wall of the castle, the one his bedroom aced. “Why wouldn’t they be?”

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” she said. “There’s no use staying hidden now, and once we see Corwin, he’ll tell everyone I’m fine. Then I’ll go to your Confirmation and we’ll get married and that’ll be that.”

“There may not be a Confirmation. I sort of lost the crown.”

She stopped dead, just before the plaza. “You
what
?”

He told her briefly about the theft that morning, as if it had been a completely unexpected occurrence in which Sinch had not been involved. She shook her head. “You had it out with you? In public? You aren’t fit to rule.”

“Well, that’s what I said.”

She’d turned to the plaza again, and now stopped. “You don’t want to become Lord Dewanne, do you?”

“Do you want to be Lady Dewanne?” he countered.

“You first.”

He sighed. “I didn’t, but now I don’t know. It’s all so complicated. I don’t want to do it, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone else who can. It’s nothing against Dewanne,” he said. “It’s a decent place.”

“It’s not that nice,” she said. “You’ve only been here a day or two. I probably wouldn’t want to stay here if I’d seen the capital.”

“You just said you don’t need anything from the capital.”

He grinned at the flattening of her ears. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to go,” she said in a low voice.

“It’s not the capital,” he said. “I miss Vinton.”

She glanced at the plaza, then rested against the wall. “Okay. What’s Vinton?”

He told her about the mountains, the mountain goats and the berries, the way the sun hit the river in spring, and the walks he took with his mother to the marketplace, the leaves in fall, the flowers in spring, the fruits in summer. Then he felt the need to apologize, again. “It’s not that it’s better than Dewanne. It’s just where I grew up.”

She responded with a surprising lack of sarcasm. “Sounds nice,” she said. “I can see why you’d want to go back there. No Shadows, no fighting, no… Kites.”

“Is that why don’t you want to stay here?”

“I just don’t want to be… locked into what they think I should be.” She took out her sling and played with it, stretching the fabric between her paws.

Yilon watched her, his ears lowering slowly. He sighed. “Well, if you don’t want to do it, then I guess I have to, don’t I?”

“We could both run away,” Dinah said. “They’d think we were kidnapped, or that the Shadows got us. We could go to Vinton and live there. It sounds better than here.”

Yilon shook his head. “We—I have responsibility, a duty.”

“You’re not from here,” she pointed out. “You only have an assigned duty, because Lord Dewanne died without his own heir.”

“It’s still my duty.”

She shrugged, turned on her heel, and marched into the plaza. He considered just letting her go, going back for Sinch and the crown, but then he recalled that he wanted to check on Corwin as well. It would be silly to have come this far and not go across the plaza to see him. So he followed Dinah, at a short distance, along the shadowed edge of the plaza. She had just reached the far side when a shadow reached out and grabbed her. She yelped and then vanished into the darkness.

Yilon froze, unable to believe what he’d just seen, and then ran to the spot where she’d vanished. He stood there, swiveling his head, straining his ears in all directions. Her scent was in the air, and another scent that was naggingly familiar. He heard breathing behind him, then a soft clearing of the throat. He whipped around.

“You shouldn’t be here.” The familiar voice came from a silhouette in the doorway of the large building. “Neither of you.”

“Maxon,” Yilon growled, “what have you done with Dinah?”

“I’m right here,” her voice came to him from the shadow. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Get away from him,” Yilon said. “He’s dangerous.”

“I’m flattered you think so,” the steward said. “I should point out that if I wanted to harm either of you, your loud progress across the square would have afforded me several opportunities. In fact, I am here to protect you both.”

“From what? Innocent mice?” Yilon stepped into the doorway, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. He saw the white of the underside of Maxon’s muzzle.

“You must both return across the plaza. It’s not safe to go further. Corwin is resting but has not regained consciousness.”

“How did you know we’re going to see him?” Dinah spoke up. She had edged closer to Yilon; he felt the brush of her tail against his leg.

“I did not know you would both be here. I guessed that after tonight’s operation, Yilon would come back, and I’m not the only one to guess that. Which is why you are in danger.” He said it patiently, as though explaining it to children.

“Sinch told me what you did,” Yilon said quietly.

The steward didn’t look away from him, but Dinah was the first to speak. “What? What did he do?”

“I acted in the best interests of the court of Dewanne,” Maxon began.

“Oh, don’t give me that ‘court of Dewanne’ excuse,” Yilon said. “How were those mice threatening the court of Dewanne?”

“They were withholding information,” Maxon snapped, “and you will note I did not harm your friend. He did not extend the same courtesy to me. Should you become Lord Dewanne, I hope you will consider both sides of a story before making judgment.”

“‘Should’ I become Lord Dewanne?” Yilon stepped closer to the steward, keeping himself from looking at Dinah. “Who else might become Lord?”

“Earlier today, you would not have cared, as long as it wasn’t you,” Maxon said. “Does this mean you have had a change of heart?”

“Yes,” Yilon said fiercely, because he wanted Maxon to be wrong.

“In the last five minutes?” Dinah said.

“I told you, I have a duty.” Yilon kept his eyes on Maxon, now able to see the steward’s frown. “One that this fox keeps trying to stop me from doing.”

“You young whelp,” Maxon growled. “You will have to learn who to trust and who not to trust if you wish to be Lord. And why do you now wish to be Lord? What has changed today?”

“What difference would it make to you?” Yilon shot back.

“What harm can it do to tell him?” Dinah said.

“It’s… he attacked a mouse earlier tonight, and almost killed her! I don’t trust anyone who would do that.”

“It’s. A. Mouse.” Maxon enunciated each word.

“He stabbed her? Really?”

“No. But he slammed her against the wall.”

“There are hundreds of common gutter trash just like that one,” Maxon said.

Yilon stepped back. “See?”

Dinah shook her head. “I don’t agree with his attitude, but… you should still talk to him. He’s not the only one who feels that way.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

“Why do you think it was so easy to convince Velkan to clean out the sewers?” Maxon pointed out.

“That’s different.” The plaza looked as bright as if morning were coming. “Those are… criminals, killers.”

“And your friend’s companion, what is her line of honest trade?” Maxon sneered.

“That doesn’t make it right.” Yilon felt the force of his argument fading. “What you did…”

“Creatures who live by force understand only force,” Maxon said. “Speaking of which, might I suggest that this discussion would be far better suited to an indoor room during the daytime?”

“We came here to see Corwin,” Yilon said.

Maxon sighed. “You cannot see him tonight. Need I say that again?”

“Really,” Dinah said, “what motivation would he have to stop us from seeing Corwin?”

“I don’t know. What motivation would he have to protect us?”

“As I believe I have mentioned in the past,” Maxon said with a cough, “I serve the court of Dewanne. It is not currently in the court’s best interest to have two potential rulers of the province be injured or killed.”

“And how do you know there is danger?”

The scents in the small space changed slightly while Yilon waited for his answer. Dinah’s, after an initial spike of fear, had calmed down. Maxon’s, initially calm, now acquired an overtone of fear or desperation. Outside, the plaza remained quiet, but Yilon could now see how their progress would have been obvious to anyone watching, despite the precautions Dinah had taken. He still was not sure whether Maxon meant them harm in the long run, and it frustrated him that he couldn’t figure out the steward’s motivations.

“You have to decide whether or not to trust me,” Maxon said finally.

Across the plaza, two foxes hurried on some errand. Yilon watched them go, knowing he couldn’t be seen. “What do you think?” he asked Dinah.

“I trust him,” she said, “but then I don’t have a friend whose friend is dying in my house.”

He knew that Maxon’s eyes were as inscrutable in bright daylight as they would be in the darkness, but he returned to them nevertheless. The steward returned his steady gaze. Everything Maxon had said made sense, and even if he wouldn’t reveal how he knew the danger Yilon was in, there were things Yilon wouldn’t tell him either. He didn’t trust Maxon. But the fact that the steward was letting him make the decision meant that in this case, he might just be telling the truth. “All right,” he began to say, but then Dinah grabbed his arm and shushed him, pointing.

On the other side of the square, a shadow was moving from one building to the next. If not for the darkness in their hiding place, Yilon would not have been able to see it at all. As it was, the best he could tell was that it was a fox, though the white of its tailtip was darkened.

“Now,
he
knows how to move inconspicuously,” Maxon whispered, but just as he said that, the figure stopped moving.

“What’s he doing?” Yilon whispered back. Conscious of his own tail tip, he curled it behind him, away from the street.

“Waiting for you,” Maxon said grimly.

“How do you know that?” Dinah kept her voice soft as well. “He could be a thief, or after someone else.”

“Thieves just walk around at night?” Yilon had not even thought to question Maxon’s statement.

Maxon and Dinah exchanged glances. “More than we would like,” Maxon said. “A situation that has only arisen in the past year, since Lord Dewanne’s illness, and one we hope the new Lord will address.”

“I used to be able to walk up the hills alone at night,” Dinah said.

Maxon pushed them both back, deep into the recesses of the alcove. “Wait here,” he said. “I’ll try to get him away. Don’t move until I come back for you.”

“Don’t be foolish,” Yilon said. “How do you know he won’t kill you?”

“I told you,” Maxon said. “He’s not here for me.”

“And how do you know that?”

Maxon put a finger to his muzzle and slid out of the alcove, padding around to the northward side of the square.

Yilon and Dinah watched the opposite side of the square, straining their eyes to see any further movement in the shadows. Nothing stirred until Maxon approached, and then they heard the low murmur of voices. A silhouette detached itself from the dark recess and resolved into a black-clad fox, walking alongside Maxon as the steward headed south, toward the castle.

“Maybe he was right,” Yilon said. He settled back against the wall, facing Dinah.

Dinah flicked her ears. “Or maybe he just told the thief that he was under arrest and to come with him.”

“Have you known him long?”

“Maxon? No. Receptions at the castle, and twice last year when my parents were finalizing this whole engagement.”

Her muzzle, still mostly shadowed, turned away from his. He let his paw drop to his side, brushing his tail back and forth. “They barely talked to me about the engagement,” he said. “Mostly they talked to me about becoming the lord. But not even very much of that.”

“Sounds familiar,” she said. “Nobody cares what we think. They just know what they want us to be.”

Yilon let that thought guide his musings. “What do you want to be?”

“Free,” she replied immediately, as though it were a problem she’d already solved. “No obligations. No duties.”

“No responsibility?”

“Responsibility is okay. Duty is what other people tell you to do. Responsibility is what your heart tells you to do.” She tapped her chest.

“You think it’s that easy?”

“Don’t you?” She turned toward him. “What does your heart tell you to do?”

He almost laughed. Here he was, sitting in a dark alcove in a still-strange town with a vixen he’d known for half a day, talking about his heart. “I don’t know. I love Vinton. I love… those people.”

“Dewanne isn’t so different,” she said.

“Like you said, there’s no Warren there,” he reminded her. “No tension, no Shadows.”

She inclined her head. “So why not stay here, and work to make it as pleasant as Vinton?”

The thought struck him, bright as the moon. Could he? “Are you trying to talk me into taking the title now?”

She chuckled, softly. “Better you than me.”

“Even though if I take the title, we’re to be married?”

“Well,” she said, “first I convince you to take the title, and then I convince you not to marry me.”

Now he did laugh. “I don’t know. I don’t have much experience handling…” He looked across the square. “How long does it take to clear the path for us?”

“Maxon’s very thorough,” she said. “He and Velkan basically ran the province the last two years.”