It was done. Keelan had a peaceful happy ride over the long days to Kars. There he left Harran while Keelan rode on to Iren Keep. He found his mother as usual, too busy talking to Kirion to listen much to her second son. It was as if they’d barely noticed he’d been gone nearly a year. He bit back a nasty smirk. That would change soon.
Keelan went through his room with care. Really, there was little he wanted. Most of his clothes were fit only to toss to a beggar. He had a few odds and ends.
He gathered those into the saddlebags he’d been given. They didn’t even fill one. He shrugged. What did it matter. He was going back to Shosho, to Aiskeep and his family. He left the rest of his threadbare belongings and returned to the stables. They’d ridden into Kars on fine mounts from the Aiskeep Torgian strain. He’d left his mount in the inn stables along with Harran’s horse and hired a cheap, clumsy beast to ride the last distance to Iren.
He’d given orders with a new assurance on arrival there. The beast was to be well-cared for and readied for departure again in a couple of hours. Keelan sat on his bed looking down at the lean saddlebags. It wasn’t much for eighteen name days. What did he have in Iren Keep anyhow? A brother he disliked, feared, and distrusted. And a mother—Keelan felt sudden tears sting his eyes. A mother who stole from him. Oh, his grandparents had been quick to cover up. But you didn’t live in a Keep like Iren most of your life without being able to read faces, hands, and half sentences. He’d seen the fingers tighten, seen the glance at each other. The query: hadn’t his mother given him his coin? He’d understood in a flare of rage and bitterness.
During all these years, she’d constantly complained that Aiskeep gave her almost nothing. He’d discounted some of that. She had the latest clothes, the trips to Kars. He’d just assumed that Aiskeep made only her an allowance. That anything she gave her sons came from her purse. It had all been a lie. Trovagh had handed Keelan a purse, a mixture of copper, silver, and gold coinage. Then Ciara had called him to speak outside the door a moment.
With Trovagh gone, Keelan had seized the opportunity.
He’d seen the money given him placed down in a big ledger. Now he turned back a page or two. It had been there: steady columns of figures going down the page in three lines. One headed Aisha, another Kirion, the third Keelan. His new allowance was larger, but not by a huge amount. No wonder his mother could afford to dress so finely. He wondered if Kirion knew that the coin he wheedled from Aisha was Kirion’s by right. He’d stepped back behind the desk again.
It had taken only seconds, but he knew at last how his mother valued him. It cut the last tie he might have had with Iren, Keep or Clan.
Keelan looked down at the saddlebags. Then he stood with a new resolution. He tossed the bags over one arm, walking to the door to call the nearest servant.
“Come in.” He pointed to the scatter of clothing, and other minor gear laying about the room. “See all this, it’s yours. Do what you want with it. Sell it, give it away, toss it on the midden. I won’t be back.” He listened a moment to the stammered thanks. “Never mind. But I’d get it out of here before someone else thinks they’ve a stronger claim.”
Keelan grinned at the scramble that produced. He strolled down the old stone stairs toward the stables. The horse had been cared for, he checked, then tossed the stable boy a coin—to that lad’s considerable surprise—then mounted and rode quietly down the road toward Kars. He’d be there by nightfall.
He slept dreamlessly in the big comfortable bed at the inn. Harran woke him early,
“Ready, lad?”
“Yes.” They shared breakfast from the tray the inn sent up, then packed. An hour after dawn, they were on the homeward journey. Keelan found he was singing softly. Home! It was a wonderful word. He remembered the letter his mother would be reading in a few hours. He sang louder. It really was a beautiful day!
Aisha read the letter close to sunhigh. As she often did, she’d slept in, then fussed over her meal, her dress, and her plans for the afternoon. Only then was her maid permitted to bring in the letter and sealed purse. She’d assumed it to be the usual allowances, and a note of polite nothings from Elanor. She opened the purse and counted. It was short by a considerable amount. Aisha fumed. Then she opened the letter. With difficulty she perused the lines of neat script. Her reading ability had never been good. It was good enough in this case for her to understand what Ciara wrote—and rather more besides.
Ciara had kept it polite, merely conveying that since Keelan was removing to live at Aiskeep his allowance would be given to him direct. That was all it said. Aisha understood the rest, though. Aiskeep knew that Keelan had been cheated for years. That his mother had given him nothing of what was sent. And moreover, Keelan would know this, too, by now.
She pouted angrily. It was for her to decide how much a son should have. Keelan was still a child. She continued to read and gulped. Ciara had added that in the future the allowances would be sent separately, that Kirion should have his given direct also.
That was serious. If Kirion understood that she’d cheated him for years, he might take revenge. She was just a little afraid of what her son was becoming.
Then it occurred to her. Keelan had appeared briefly the previous day. She’d hadn’t seen him since. Ciara’s letter said he was living at Aiskeep now? Aisha hurried to investigate. The boy’s room was empty of all he’d had. At the stables they told her he’d gone the night before. Further inquiry discovered the inn. Aisha bit a finger. So—Harran had been there. It really did look as if Aiskeep had taken Keelan in, perhaps as heir.
This news would serve very well to divert Kirion. She could mention that the separate—and increased—allowance for him had been at her suggestion. He’d take the coin, but it would also help convince him that Aiskeep was trying to buy him off.
Kirion was away on one of his mysterious errands. She waited until his return, telling him the news of his allowance first. As she’d expected, he was delighted—until she added, quite casually, that Keelan was gone.
“Gone where? You mean he’s staying with some friend?”
“Not exactly. The servants say he’s cleared all his possessions. In Kars they say he arrived with Harran from Aiskeep. Left with the man the next morning very early.” She made her face innocent. “Keelan said something about living at Aiskeep now; you don’t think he’s entangled with anyone, do you?” She invested the last query with a salaciousness that was startling.
Kirion exploded in fury. “Entangled? I’d wager he’s entangled! They’ll have decided to make him Keep Heir instead of me.” He proceeded to damn every last one of his kin at Aiskeep, with particular virulent attention to his younger brother. “This so-called increase in allowance is to buy me off. We’ll see about it. Thank the Gods I have friends.”
He flung from Aisha’s room in a way that secretly amused her. Kirion would find he had no friends if he started bullying them as he had always bullied Keelan. Perhaps that was why the younger boy had gone?
Kirion stamped his way out to the stables. He had a horse saddled, then rode for the city. He received no satisfaction from his cronies.. They could only recite Karsten laws that allowed what his grandparents might have done. Kirion returned in a worse temper than he’d been in when he left. He retired to the tower rooms where he preferred to live. They provided space, privacy, and enough distance from other occupied parts of the Keep to muffle the sounds that sometimes came from Kirion’s room late at night. He was making progress in his studies. That at least was satisfactory.
He sat down wearily in a chair. If he could just master the art of influencing people. Not too obviously, but just enough to make them more receptive to what he was asking.