Niri sat on the huge padded chair, almost lost on the great ancient seat carved of Blackwood. Little more than his large blue eyes could be seen peeking over the edge of the imposing and equally ancient Blackwood desk, and he gazed at the three men across the desk from him; none other than the Master Thief himself, and two of his Chosen, Dusty and Klynrhye.
“Niri,” began the Master wearily, “how long have you lived in the orphanage?”
“Three weeks,” said the little boy in a small voice.
“And what have we taught you in that period of time?”
“That stealing should only be done when it was necessary, and to never steal things of…” he shifted in his seat and twiddled his thumbs, eyes becoming wet with tears as he struggled with the large word. “Things of sent-ti-men-tal nature.”
Infamous Keeper nodded. “That is correct.”
Niri squirmed. He had to go to the bathroom, but he didn’t think he would be allowed to. He stared nervously at the Master, the beaded hair and black fold of silk across his eyes making him look sorcerous and frightening. In the next room he could hear the Master’s large husband ranting and swearing. He jumped as something hefty hit the wall.
“Is he mad at me?” asked the little boy.
“I would say he is,” said Infamous. “QUITE mad in fact. Now, you know that what you took was not necessary to your existence.”
“Yes it was!” said Niri. “Lionda Greywolf said if I didn’t then he’d beat me up again.”
The Master’s eyebrow raised. “Lionda Greywolf said that?”
Niri sniffed. “Yes! And he’s bigger than me and he’s always picking on me! I DID have to steal it! He won’t leave me alone, just because I’m small.”
The Master sat back in his chair and looked at him. Niri stared back. The child had not been an orphan long; his father had died last spring, and his mother had died birthing his little sister. The infant was currently staying with another family, and Niri was worried they would keep her. He had promised his mother that he, his new sister, and his brother of three years would stay together. It seemed he had made the promise in vain.
It had been only a day after his mother died that the Highwaymen had come. Niri had seen them before; they would show up from time to time, to bring things for his mother and make sure she was all right. He had been so glad to see them; he was sure they could do something to make his mommy better. But they could not. They could only bury her. Then they packed up the children’s belongings, and they had come here, to the City of the White Palace, and the main temple of Marakim to live in the orphanage.
Niri hated the orphanage. He was hardly abused – he and his little brother shared a small room, and they each had their own bed. They had good food and clean clothes, though nothing fancy, but it wasn’t home. It wasn’t the little cottage in the Northern Plains, where they could open the door and see forever, and watch the white Aushai grazing the long grass, and throw crumbs to the green lizards. There was no huge hearth, and no daddy to play his mandolin while mommy sang. Just this crowded stinky orphanage. The only fun part was the temple foxes. He liked letting them out of their kennels in the morning, and how they would boil out of the cages in a sea of red fur. He would have liked to keep one, but a pet needed a home, and Niri didn’t have one.
Arrowsmith raged in the next room. Niri kicked his feet. “I’m really sorry,” he mumbled. “I wouldn’t have taken it but I didn’t want Lionda to hit me again.”
“What,” said Klynrhye, “possessed you to get on it?”
Niri shrugged. “Just wanted to.”
“And how did you start it?”
“I just told it to go an’ it went. Am I in trouble?”
“No,” said Dusty, “but I’ll wager Lionda Greywolf is.”
Infamous nodded. “Yes I’ll wager he is as well. Klynrhye, would you please take the little darling and put him in the play yard with the older boys for today? Perhaps he’d like a taste of what it is like to be the smallest for a change. If the child was female I’d turn him over to Lady Seraph.”
Dusty and Klynrhye left the room, and Niri felt a little better. At least Lionda would be getting punished. But still, he wished he did not have to go back into the orphanage. He kept hoping by some miracle his parents would come for him, but he knew they wouldn’t.
His attention was caught by the Master Thief seating himself on the edge of the desk, looking down at him with those eerie, sightless eyes that saw all. The leather-gloved hand offered him a glass of something. He took it and sniffed it, smelling something sweet. Pear juice. He sipped the cold contents, noting the Master had wine.
“Niri, you’re not very happy here are you?”
Niri shook his head. “No,” he said softly.
“What would make you feel better?”
“I wanna go home. I know mommy and daddy aren’t there but I hate it here! It’s crowded and smelly and there’s no chickens to feed and I can’t see my sister and I just HATE it! I wanna go! I’m old enough, I’m almost seven, daddy would let me help him feed the horse sometimes, I could take care of us and I could take the horse out to check the wheat. I could do the harvest…”
The child’s voice trailed off, knowing in his heart that he was not old enough; the Master did not have to say anything. He felt himself lifted up and placed in the Master’s lap. The child eyed him warily. He smelled of leather and fine oils, and something else, something the child could not define, but it made him think of faeries and the tall Elves. He has no way of knowing that Infamous was kin with the strange and fey Black Elves, but he could certainly detect something odd about him.
“You wish to go back to your cabin in the Northern Plains.”
Niri nodded. “Me an’ my brother an’ my sister. All of us.”
“And who will take care of you?”
Niri looked down at his cup. Normally he would have gulped down the cold juice and asked for more, but right now, with the lump in his throat, he couldn’t seem to force himself. He felt Infamous place him in back in the chair, then reached over to pull the bell rope. Niri’s eyes became huge as he heard the sound of Arrowsmith’s boots approaching. The door opened, and the huge man loomed there. His once golden-brown hair was now touched with grey, but John Arrowsmith was no less imposing than he had been upon first arriving on Dargoth.
“You…” he growled, seeing the child.
Niri just stared, feeling the blood drain out of his face as what seemed to be an angry giant walked over to stare down at him.
“Are you gonna kill me?” the child asked.
“Oh I’m thinking about it.”
Infamous stood up and walked over to Arrowsmith, taking his hand, smiling. “You are not killing anyone this fine day, my love.”
Arrowsmith snapped his gaze to his husband. “I’m NOT?! Do you want to know how many pieces Harley is in thanks to this munchkin? I counted. 42.”
“It was not said munchkin’s fault. And he was acting well within temple doctrine.”
Arrowsmith gaped at his husband. “WHAT?!”
“He took something necessary to preserve his existence. Another boy threatened him with harm if he did not take it.”
“WHO THREATENED HIM TO GET ON IT?!”
Niri flinched, certain this giant would kill them both, but the Master did not seem daunted.
“That is besides the fact. The point is Niri would not have taken Harley if he had not been forced to. The responsible party is being dealt with. Is Harley repairable?”
“Well… yeah, I suppose. I mean I made him in the first place, didn’t I?”
“Good. You will have all winter to fix him, and plenty of peace to do it when we take our children up to the Northern Plains.”
Niri’s little heart leapt with hope. Could the Master be talking about him? Were he and his siblings going to live with the Master in their little house? Arrowsmith meanwhile looked like someone had hit him with a brick.
“WHAT? What children? We don’t have children.”
“Yes we do. Three. Niri, his little brother Kari, and his three week old sister Aralyn.”
“Maradith!” said Niri hotly. “Mama wanted to name her Maradith! Those people gave her that name and I told them it was wrong but no one listens to me!”
“Maradith,” amended Infamous. “So just wait here for a minute, I shall send for the baby and we will make arrangements to leave, all right?”
“But…” said Arrowsmith weakly. He watched as his small husband breezed out of the room, then sat heavily on the edge of the ancient Blackwood desk and mimed sticking a gun in his mouth and pulling the trigger. Slowly his gaze shifted to the little boy. Boy and man eyed each other.
“You shouldn’t throw things,” said Niri.
“YOU shouldn’t get on motorcycles that don’t belong to you.”
“Harley likes me!”
“Well I’d be willing to bet he’s changed his opinion! You’re lucky you’re not dead.”
“You hate me don’t you?”
“Damn straight.”
That had NOT been the response Niri had hoped to hear. He stood up on the chair, clutching his cup, and roared back; “Yeah well I hate you too! You’re big, and you’re mean, and you SMELL TERRIBLE!”
Arrowsmith leapt to his feet and strode over to the child, looming over him even though Niri was on a chair. Dargothian males tended to be small anyway, and Niri’s father had been smaller than was common. He had passed his height to his son, along with his blue eyes and uncontrollable brown hair. The little boy gulped nervously as the giant breathed down on him.
“You’re gonna smell pretty bad too after I kill you.”
“You can’t kill me, your husband is the Master!”
“THAT’S why no one will believe I did it!”
“You’re mean!”
Arrowsmith was furious, and wanted with every fiber of his being to reply with something viciously hurtful, but held himself in check. Even as angry as he was, he understood that getting into a name-calling match with a six-year-old orphan was not right. Arrowsmith knew he could probably dredge up a few things the child would carry with him the rest of his life, but emotionally scarring a small child hardly made him a hero. He held back on the litany of hurtful things he wanted to say. Instead he drew a few cleansing breaths before speaking again.
“No, I am angry. You broke something that meant a great deal to me.”
Niri sensed this huge man could have hurt him, but did not want to. He thought about pressing his advantage, but decided he didn’t want to fight either.
“I didn’t mean to. But Lionda was always hitting me and I was scared of him. I’m sorry I broke it, I really am.”
Arrowsmith nodded. Then he picked the child up. “Come along, bratsky.”
“Bratsky? What’s a bratsky? Where we going?”
“You are going to get a lesson in motorcycle repair.”
***---***
It wasn’t perfect, but it was good. It was good to sit under the huge chestnut tree, under the sky that went on forever, near the little cottage with the huge hearth where daddy would play his mandolin. Infamous played the flute, not the mandolin, but Arrowsmith played the guitar, which was almost the same thing. Little Kari watched with fascination as Niri and Arrowsmith slowly worked to rebuild Harley, while Infamous sat on the porch in mama’s old rocking chair, holding baby Maradith. Overhead, the great anvil head clouds began to roll across the prairie, bringing the autumn storms with them. That was good; they would water the battlefield roses that he and Infamous had planted over his parent’s graves. Niri had wanted them as both his parents had been followers of Shalougha, but Infamous would only plant them if they put a fence around them to keep little hands away from the beautiful, dusty-blue and deadly toxic plants. Niri had agreed.
Lightning flickered, and the Aushai turned and fled, the sound of their passing hooves like the thunder that followed. Arrowsmith and Niri put the tarp over the half-built bike and staked it down before coming into the house, where Infamous would have a bath waiting and dinner started. He noted he was cooking in the large pot, which meant likely the Highwaymen would be coming by to see all was well.
Niri breathed a sigh of relief. He was still sad, and he would always miss his parents, but at least he was where he belonged. That night he was carried up into his loft room by Arrowsmith and tucked into his own bed, a glass of water left by his bedside just as his mama used to do. He lay curled up, and finally fell asleep to the quiet sound of distant thunder, and Arrowsmith’s guitar, his little heart lighter than it had been in a long while. |
