Metal and Flesh (The Rohvim, Book 1)

1.4 Evade

“Ah yes, Lord Bleak. Just on some business. For my father.”

A mocking sneer covered the other man’s face. “Surely,” he began with embellishment, “a lord so respected as your father would simply conduct his business during daylight hours.” His smile disappeared and his voice descended to a hiss. “I think you’re here up to no good.” His gaze passed to Priam, who, thankfully, had covered his face with his hood. “And who is your friend?”

Aeden felt that Lord Bleak must not know Priam was there. As a commoner, if caught breaking into the barracks, even though he was with Aeden he’d be treated harshly. Too harshly.

“Just a servant. Since I’m on my father’s business, he gave me all the tools at his disposal. That included several rather useless servants, so I brought one to help me.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Priam stiffen, ever so slightly. He knew the other boy was sensitive of his status, and hated being considered of lower class. But there was no way around it. Not this time.

“And just what is this business?” The lord’s hand rested on the hilt of his sword. His eyes gleamed, and Aeden could tell he was itching for a duel, longing to put some higher ranked nobleman in his place. Aeden’s hand dropped to his own sword. The itch was contagious, it seemed.

“None of your business.”

“Everything that goes on here at this hour is my business. Lord Caldamon has placed me in charge of the night watch, and so I’m making it my business. Tell me now!”

“I could, but I’d have to report back to my father that the younger Lord Bleak was prying into Lord Rossam’s affairs. And I don’t think he’d like that.” This last part Aeden emphasized and shook his head as he spoke. It had the desired effect. Lord Rossam’s reputation was well known, and Lord Bleak clearly knew what he was capable of.

He stammered. “I … I don’t think that will be necessary. Still, you are trespassing on the property of the lord of the city. You will answer for that.”

Aeden reached into his pocket. He froze when the other two men’s hands went to their swords, and so he proceeded more deliberately. Extracting a small purse of coins, he tossed it at their feet with a distinctive clink.

“There is your answer. Take it, and tell no one I was here, and I will not tell Lord Rossam that I was hindered,” he said, looking at the other two guards squarely in the eyes. “If you don’t, well…” he shrugged, “Lord Rossam has been in quite a mood lately. We’ve already lost two servants this week.”

Lord Bleak took a step forward. “Are you threatening me?”

“Of course not. I’m just suggesting a profitable course of action for all involved. What are your thoughts, gentlemen?” He addressed this last part to the two guards, who looked at each other.

One of them spoke. “He’s right, my lord. I don’t want to run afoul of Lord Rossam. If he sends his son on secret business, who are we to stop him? Especially with such a persuasive shiny argument there on the floor.” He eyed the bag greedily.

Lord Bleak gripped the hilt of his sword even tighter. “Fine. Get out of my sight. But if I ever catch you again, I’ll report it to Lord Caldamon. Go!” he pointed to the door. Turning to the men he jabbed a finger at them. “And escort them out. Make sure they actually leave.”

When the two guardsmen had shared the coins between the three of them, they followed the two boys through the door and past other confused-looking guards. At the entrance, Aeden bowed low to them.

“And a fine evening to you two soldiers!”

“Thank you, Lord Rossam. Regards to your father,” said one of them, nervously.

How the men feared him, his father. Aeden feared him too, but it was mixed with something else. Love, he supposed. The man could be kind at times. Well, kind was not quite the right word. Generous, perhaps. Involved and demanding, which Aeden knew was motivated by a desire to see his son succeed, surely. And there was the fear. Fear at not knowing when the man would strike him next. Fear of being cast off into the priesthood to wallow with the other disinherited nobles for the rest of his life.

But it didn’t compare to the fear he saw in his mother’s eyes when the man went on a rampage. He didn’t hurt her, not physically at least, but she feared for the servants. And her children: Aeden, and his younger sister Cassandra.