Rhistmaege

Rabby

Tink! Tink! Dovi lofted pebbles at Rabby Maggutton's window. The two story wooden house was clean, neat, and structurally sound, just like the Maggutton family. Before he could toss the next pebble, the front door swung open.

"Who's there? Show yourself!" called the booming voice of Rabby's father, Maclinton Maggutton.

Dovi dropped his head sheepishly and thumbed at his nose. "I-It's me, Dovinicus MaCabre."

"Dovi, how many times must I tell you? The front door - no matter how late. Had a rough night again, have ya?"

Maclinton or Mac as he preferred to be called was one of the few in Wroughton Grove, or outside of Wroughton Grove for that matter, who retained a shred of empathy for The Monster. Mac and Montiverus had been Kingsmen together. The Monster had saved Mac's life in the Battle of Emory Glade. Barrow Knights had ripped Mac clean through on both sides of his ribcage. Knee tendon had nearly been severed. Monti single-handedly beat back five Barrow Walkers, then proceeded to carry Mac on his back for two miles. The Claensian healer said it was Mac who should have been carrying Monti. If I hear that story one more time I'm going to puke.

"My mother asked if I could spend a few days here. The barn will do just fine. I don't want to put anyone out," said Dovi softly. He tried to avert his eyes from the large, bare-chested man wearing nothing but a skimpy pair of white small-wears. Dovi focused on the hard steel blade in Mac's right hand.

"Bah! A MaCabre in my barn, snuggling up between two horse arses? To Heolor with that. I'd give up my own bed before I'd let that happen to a MaCabre. If you're meaning to get Rabby whipped, then go ahead-" Mac reached back and tugged at the long blond hair tied neatly behind his back. "Sorry Dovi- I didn't mean to..." A sad smile shone down through Mac's trimmed goatee.

"Come inside. We've got buttercrisps and cinnamon-ice sweetsticks. Take some up to Rabby's room. If there's anything Mrs. Maggutton needs to, you know, look at, well just let me know. We'll take care of you for as long as you need."

"Thank you Sir-" started Dovi.

"It's just Mac to you," interrupted Mr. Maggutton.

"Thank you, uh, Mac for always, well, thanks for everything." Dovi followed the aromatic euphoria of baked pastries. Mrs. Maggutton was almost as good a baker as his Mom, almost. I hope Mom's okay. If he lays a hand on her...

Dovi licked icing off his fingers as he reached Rabby's door at the top of the steps. He shook his head miserably and entered the room. I hate asking him for a change of clothes.

Rabby snored away, dead to the world, as usual. His closely cropped blond hair was half buried in a fluffy feather pillow. The large boy sank deep into the equally fluffy feather bed.

Dovi sighed. He was tired of his own straw pallets.

"Rab," whispered Dovi. Rabby turned his head to the side and snorted weakly.

"Rabby," Dovi said a little louder. Nothing. The boy was still comatose.

"Rabbrick, wake up," said Dovi through clenched teeth. He pushed hard against the side of Rabby's head.

"Hey. What's the?" Rabby sat up and lurched at Dovi like a striking snake. He grabbed Dovi's narrow wrist with his left hand and cocked a meaty right fist.

"Rabby, it's me, Dovi."

"Dovi? You trying to get yourself killed? Why didn't you just call my name instead of smacking me?" Rabby let go and rubbed at the back of his head. "What are you doing here? Did- did it happen again?"