Shadow of the Father (37 page)

Yilon thought of Sinch, who hadn’t even had that benefit. “Even though he wasn’t officially the heir?”

“Even so. When he reached adulthood, Dewry returned here and joined the guard. Lord Dewanne had been married to Delia for…” He counted in his head. “Nine years? Perhaps ten. There were stirrings and rumors, because they had not yet produced a cub. But they lived in Divalia and visited rarely, and Corwin managed the city well. When Dewry joined the guard, though… he served faithfully for two or three years, and then rumors about his parentage began to slip out. He denied them, but in a clever way that suggested that he was merely forbidden to tell the truth.

“Soon after he turned twenty, though,” Maxon’s eyes narrowed. “There was an attack on the palace. A burning arrow was shot into the chambers next to Lord and Lady Dewanne’s. Nobody was hurt,” he said quickly, to Dinah’s gasp. “A young fox deserted the guard the next day. Everyone assumed it was him. He knew Dewry, it turned out.” He stared past them. “I never believed Dewry had anything to do with it.”

“But he had friends who would murder for him?” Dinah said, her voice high and loud. “Even if that’s true, that’s just as dangerous.”

Maxon rubbed his muzzle. “Lady Dewanne thought the same. She insisted that Dewry leave Dewanne. The only other place he knew was Divalia. So, at the behest of his father, I gave him a mount from the palace stables, a small purse of money, and the names of several tradespeople in Divalia where he could apply for work as a guard, or learn a trade.

“I did not hear from him for many years. Sometimes gifts would arrive at the castle, addressed to me, with no signature. Glass goblets, a package of sweetened grain, a cask of mead. I guessed they were from him, and I was happy to think he was doing well. I did not consider that he had no training other than soldiery, and the gifts were far beyond a soldier’s means. “When Lord Dewanne passed, I had my orders to fetch you. But I had promised to serve the court of Dewanne, and I had always thought that Lord Dewanne would have wanted his son to take the throne. I had no way of contacting him, but he had heard of the lord’s passing and wrote to me, eagerly asking whether he could return, giving me an address where a return message would find him. After meeting with your family,” he inclined his head toward Yilon, “I met him at that address and talked to him for several hours. He was so desperate to return so full of plans for Dewanne, it was clear he had been following the political situation from afar as best he could.” He paused and looked to the window, away from Yilon. “I did not learn until later that he was spying on you and had already tried to kill you.”

“That was him?” Yilon found he could not muster much surprise.

Maxon nodded. “He had heard of your arrival in Divalia. When Lord Dewanne took ill, he wrote to ask if he could come home. His mother told him that you had been designated his heir.”

“His mother? Her?” Yilon pointed at the other room.

Maxon coughed into his paw, a prolonged fit. “Yes,” he said. “The noble families were told. Word spread through the city.”

“But she’s…”

“She has not always been so,” Maxon said sharply.

The room fell silent. “All right,” Yilon said, after exchanging glanced with Dinah. “So he was spying on me and shooting arrows at me. Then what?”

“Then…” Maxon looked down at his paws. “He promised he would make no more attempts against you, if I brought him back to Dewanne.”

“So you bought him a mount or something?” Yilon leaned forward when Maxon didn’t answer. “You had to. Nobody came with us, except… the
guard
? He was the guard?” Maxon nodded, slowly. “The fox who tried to
assassinate
me?”

He’d half-risen from his chair. A sharp pain in his stomach stopped him. He sat again, wincing.

“He promised,” Maxon said, “and he kept his promise.”

“I’m starting to see the pattern here,” Yilon said. “You wanted him to assume the lordship. You never thought much of me. You knew…” He stopped himself, aware of Dinah’s presence.

The steward opened his jaw, and then shut it with a click. His eyes met Yilon’s, and in that look, Yilon saw that he was right, that Maxon had guessed the truth of his parentage. Slowly, Maxon nodded. “You have the right of it. I admit it. I serve the court of Dewanne, and I was determined that this land should have the best ruler.”

“You didn’t know me,” Yilon said

“Nor did I know what Dewry had become,” Maxon shot back. “But I always believed that Lord Dewanne wanted him to be named the successor. It was Lady Dewanne who hated him, who banished him, who insisted on appointing… another family’s son to the succession.”

“Why?” Dinah put in.

“I have not asked,” Maxon said stiffly. “But I believe she resented Kayley, and wished her son to be forever relegated to obscurity, if not poverty.”

“No, I mean… why did Lord Dewanne not cast her aside? Take another bride?”

“If Sheffin had one failing, it was too much affection, too much devotion,” Maxon said with the same stiff posture.

Yilon stood, and winced again as the motion pulled at his wounds. “And we’re all paying for that failing,” he said. “I need to ask you one question.”

Maxon looked up without rising. He nodded. “We may not share all the same values. But I have come to respect your courage and your dedication. Dewry has surrounded himself with criminals and lunatics, and he has not stopped trying to achieve his ends through violence. I have made my decision. The best interests of the court of Dewanne will be served with you as their lord.”

“Oh,” Yilon said.

Maxon’s muzzle curved into a slight smile, the first Yilon had seen in a long time. The steward cleared his throat. “I do hope to bring some influence to bear on you on the question of the mice. That lies in the future, however.”

“Thank you,” Yilon said. “But I was just going to ask what arrangements we can make for Min. When you call the guard, can you ask them to bring him to his home, or to wherever they take guards killed in the line of duty?”

“Of course.” Maxon pushed his chair back and stood. “I will go now. You will return to the house in the Heights?”

Yilon looked at Dinah who nodded. “Colian is there,” she said. “Yilon needs to be bandaged up. Again.”

Yilon pressed his paw to his abdomen. “It’s nothing,” he said.

Maxon’s gaze traveled from Yilon’s stomach up to his ear. “My lord,” he said, “My role in this… you might have been killed. Once you have safely assumed the lordship, I will tender my resignation.”

Merely an hour ago, Yilon would have liked nothing more. Now, he hesitated. “We shall see about that when the time comes,” he said. “In the meantime, let’s get the crown back, and anything you can do to stop Dewry would be most welcome.”

Maxon hesitated. “I would… I would like to send him back to Divalia. For the memory of my old lord.”

“He’s tried to kill me,” Yilon pointed out. “At least twice.”

“Only because he saw an opportunity. When the opportunity is gone, he will not trouble you again.”

Yilon didn’t believe that for a moment, but he didn’t have time to argue. “We will deal with that when the time comes,” he repeated. He turned to leave, and then stopped, his paw on the table. “When you stopped us at the plaza,” he said, “was it Dewry waiting for us?”

“Yes.”

“And who shot Corwin?”

Maxon looked directly at him. “I don’t know. It might have been Silver.”

“Or it might have been Dewry.”

“It might.”

Yilon suspected that Maxon knew it was, that it was his affection for the bastard that kept the whole truth from them. But again, he decided not to press the issue. He would deal with Dewry later. “Did you discover anything else about the location of the crown?”

“No. Dewry went to the Warren to talk to his connections there.” The steward’s mouth curled downward.

“Find out what you can,” Yilon said. “Dinah and I will go back to the Heights and wait there.”

Shreds had woken, when they returned to the hall. He spat curses at them, and when he saw Maxon, pleaded with him, but they ignored him, as they ignored the creaking shouts and dull thumps that came from behind the heavy fastened curtain. Maxon accompanied them out the front door.

Before leaving, Yilon took off his tunic and wrapped it around the bloody wounds of his stomach. He’d worried about attracting attention, but he needn’t have. The crowd of foxes bustling back and forth along the street did not look twice at him. Many of them were bare-chested themselves in the oppressive heat, and those who didn’t wore dirty, patched tunics that were barely more presentable than his. Dinah and Maxon attracted more attention than he did, envious glanced and mutters to their tails.

At the end of the street, Dinah took two steps to the left, while Maxon started to the right. He stopped and bowed. “This is where I take my leave,” he said. “The guard station is near Velkan’s mansion, so I will stop there and brief him and Lady Dewanne. I will also find out about Corwin’s health and either come tell you myself or send for you.”

Yilon inclined his head. “Thank you, Maxon.”

“Rest well, my lord,” the steward said, and walked off into the crowd.

Yilon and Dinah watched him go before climbing the shallow hill. As they crossed an invisible border into the Heights, Yilon became more aware of the stares of the well-dressed foxes at his bare chest. To keep himself from feeling self-conscious, he turned to Dinah. “How did you know to bring him back to the house?”

Her ears folded back. “I didn’t, exactly. He caught me following him.”

“Oh.”

She shot him a look. “He’s hard to follow! I got too close and he recognized me. He was going to take me to the governor’s mansion, then I told him you were at the Strad house and we went back there.”

Yilon tried to hold his tunic shut. “Well, you saved my life.”

She didn’t answer until they’d reached the end of that street and turned. “I knew them as cubs,” she said. “I liked to hike up into the mountains, and so did they. I used to… I used to find some of the small creatures they’d tortured.”

“That’s why you killed Kites,” he said.

“That, and he was going to kill you.” But her ears stayed back. If there were any further history between her and the Strad foxes, she wasn’t about to tell him now.

“Do you trust Maxon? I mean, do you think he’s really come over to ours side?”

That brought her ears back up. “He seemed really upset about your guard. And if he’d wanted to get rid of you, that was the perfect time. He only needed to leave you with… them.”

Yilon nodded. “He told us we would have to decide whether or not to trust him.”

“Although that was when we shouldn’t have.”

Yilon shook his head. “I don’t know. I believe he didn’t know where he stood at that time. He was saving us from Dewry.”

“To go get the crown for himself.” She slowed as they reached another hill. “Are you okay?”

Yilon nodded, holding his tunic closed with the paw he was pressing to his wound. It was sore, but not too bad. “I don’t think he wanted to crown himself, though. He just wanted to decide who got crowned.”

“He doesn’t have that right.”

“Just as long as he’s on our side now.” Yilon had fallen slightly behind her, plodding up the steep hill.

Dinah didn’t look back, but her tail curled down as she said, “That doesn’t mean he’ll be on our side in the future.”

“Two more days would do,” Yilon said.

At the top of the hill, they reached the street on which Dinah’s house stood. Rather than walking along it, Dinah turned to face Yilon. The passing foxes skirted them, some raising eyebrows at Yilon’s undress, but none stopped. “Don’t think I’ve changed my mind about marrying you just because I’m helping you.”

Yilon shook his head. “Nor I you.”

“It’s just that you’re so helpless.”

“At least I managed to follow Maxon without being spotted.”

She snorted at that, and then broke a smile. “You probably put him on his guard. Why don’t you want to get married? I mean, apart from having your mouse on the side.”

“Oh, I intend to be married,” Yilon said. “I have to. It’s—”

“Your duty, yes, I know. But you clearly don’t want to.”

He looked around and then down the street. “Can we continue this in the house?”

She followed his gaze. “Nobody here’s listening. When you get to the house, Colian’s going to take charge of you, and then I expect you’ll sleep for a while.”

“Well, let’s walk, at least.” Without waiting for an answer, he set off toward the house. She hurried to match his pace. “It is Sinch, if you want the truth,” he said. “I can’t… be with him anymore, after I’m married.”

“Why ever not?”

“Because when you get married, you dedicate your life and love to one person. It’s not fair to have someone on the side.”

“So you’d expect your wife to be devoted totally to you, even though she may have no more feeling for you than you for her?”

His ear twinged when he flicked it. “That’s how it works.”

“’Steeth,” she muttered. “Now I definitely don’t want to marry you.”

“I didn’t make up the rules,” he growled. “If you’re gay, your life as a noble is destined to be unfulfilled.”

They’d reached the door of her house. She held it for him. “Go see Colian and get your rest. I’ll see you later.”

He was on the stair when he heard the door close, and her voice below him say, “I have no intention of having an unfulfilled life.”

He turned, but all he saw was her tail disappearing into the ground floor room.

 
The sun had reached its zenith by the time Sinch found the house in the Heights again. He’d walked through the upper class neighborhood, ignoring the stares from the well-dressed foxes, avoiding guards when he saw them and hurrying away when he heard people calling them. He kept his eyes shaded against the sun and kept moving, looking up at the rooftops for shadows, and when he found the right door, with Yilon’s scent on the doorstep, he pushed at the wood and let himself in.

The house was silent. He padded up to the second floor and looked in on Valix, but she was asleep with the window shuttered, and Colian wasn’t watching her. Farther down the hall, the two remaining doors were shut. The door to the third floor room was also shut, but he caught Yilon’s scent on it, fresh, and he eased the door open.