“For the bells,” he said and closed the lid.
“Laurel Faena can ward it for you after you put them in, sir,” I said, walking towards the door. Then stopped. Doyen Allwyn had discovered Prudence’s body in the corner. Once more I could see the faint tracery of Laurel’s wards like huge DO NOT TOUCH signs—and I deliberately looked away.
“Is it safe where anyone could get to it?” the doyen asked, staring.
“No matter where it’s stored it will be unsafe,” I said, staying by the hold door.
“Will anyone touch it?”
“Only a fool, sir—and a fool will do so whether it’s here or locked in the King’s Treasury.” I shrugged. “Where else could we put it? I don’t want it in my cabin.”
“Such an invisible thing,” Doyen Allwyn said. “You look at it and see only what you expect to see.”
A stick with bells on it, I thought. “Yes, sir.”
“The question arose in the Synod,” Doyen Allwyn said, turning to leave, “about how I could carry it and not notice anything untoward.” He waited for me to shut the door. “But then, I pointed out that they also did not notice anything unusual and what did that say about them?” He smiled again. “The question was dropped rather quickly.”
“I bet it was,” I murmured.
“The question also arose,” he said, “if I were wise in meeting a magic—uh, Borderer—”
I smiled. “Laurel Faena, the Faena, or honored Laurel, sir.”
“Laurel Faena,” he repeated, “but again I pointed out that whether or not we’d met, the staff still would have been, uh—”
“Prudence Oak’s body,” I supplied.
“Yes,” Doyen Allwyn said. “They left that alone too.” He crooked a smile once more. “I was so excited when I heard about the Faena.” He started up the stairs and I followed. “Most think that the stories about the Border are made up, like dramas and children’s pantomimes. It was a shock when I saw him face to face.”
“I’d noticed, sir,” I said.
“Even so, I had many questions and was hoping that honored Laurel would guest a few days with me,” Allwyn continued. We reached the deck and stood blinking in the sunlight. “Only to have it all turned on its head.”
“My captain wasn’t too happy with me either.”
Allwyn crooked a smile. “I noticed.” He looked around the boat. “Well, I suppose I should pay my respects to the captain of this vessel. No, there’s no need,” he said as I started to escort him, and his smile widened as his eyes traveled around the narrow deck once more. “I’m sure I should be able to find him on my own.” I watched the doyen to make sure he was going the right way, before turning and walking slowly in the opposite direction. Despite what Captain Suiden may have thought, I was brought up on Border politics, which were as contentious and devious as anything in the kingdom. There were always wheels within wheels, and these particular ones had the feel of being on a speeding cart drawn by runaway horses. I found an empty spot on the river side of the ship and leaned against the railing to think.
“Ho, Lord Rabbit!”
It was too good to last. “Go away, Ryson.”
“Aw, does the widdle wabbit want to be awone?”
Before I could reach his throat, Jeff stepped between us. “Stop it, both of you.”
“Poor widdle wabbit.”
I went around Jeff, but he managed to grab me. “No, Rabbit. You’re in enough trouble as it is.” He was right. Shooting Ryson an evil glare, I yanked my arm away from Jeff and smoothed down my tabard.
“Widdle wabbit mussed his cwothes,” Ryson said. “Too bad.”
“Lice-ridden, goat-tupping weasel—” I tried to go over Jeff and was tackled.
“Shut up, Ryson, or I’ll shove your smalls up your nose,” Jeff said as he sat on me.
Swallowing hard against nausea, I stopped struggling. “Get off. Your bony butt hurts.” As I rose to my feet, I was flanked by a badger and a weasel in the afternoon light. I then blinked and they were again just Jeffen and Ryson. Startled, I took a step back, but Jeffen caught my arm again.
“You know what he is, so why are you letting him get to you?” he asked. His glare intensified. “And what the pox-rotted hell were you thinking? Calling a doyen a murderer.”
“I didn’t call him a murderer—” I began, searching for a way to escape.
“Yes, you did,” Jeff said. He grabbed my tabard with his other hand and pulled me around to face him. “What’s wrong with you? You’re already in the sodding mountain patrol. You can’t get any lower, except maybe guarding latrine ditches.”
“Maybe it’s because the magical hexed him or something,” Ryson said.
“Maybe so,” Jeff said, scowling at me.
“He did not and he would not.” I gave up trying to get away and scowled back at the two of them. “That would be like a doyen practicing the dark arts. Worse. Anyway, Suiden’s already made it clear that I acted with extreme stupidity.”
“Aw, Suiden’s widdle pet wabbit—”
“Oh, shut up!” I said, beating Jeffen. “Accuse me of sucking up as you lick toes. Never mind me, what’s with you, Ryson? You always were a weasel, but now you’re in line for the crown.”
“I’ve done nothing—”
“And toadying Slevicious, of all people. I’d watch it, playing both ends against the middle. You’ll get crushed.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“He doesn’t have to,” Jeff said, once more getting between us. “You think the captain doesn’t know exactly what’s going on? He’s assigned you to the horse detail. Stupid, Ryson.”
“Shoveling muck, huh?” I eyed Ryson, glad I was upwind. “Been helping Slevoic deliver more messages?” He didn’t say anything and I shrugged. “Your funeral.”
“Yeah,” Jeff said, “but you’re working on your own, Rabbit.”
I said nothing for a moment; then, untangling myself from Jeff, I turned back to the railing and leaned against it. “I grew up with folk like Laurel,” I said. “To me he’s as normal as porridge for breakfast. Tree sprites too. Honor Ash Faena strides the Weald that includes my parents’ farm. When I was a kid she’d let me tag along.” I stared out over the water. “You think I went off the deep end? Imagine your family and friends dead, mutilated, and adorning our holy sites. Or made into chairs for us to sit on.” There was more silence; then Jeffen and Ryson joined me at the railing.
“You know I’ve fought bandits with you for close to five years, and this is the most that you’ve ever said about yourself that wasn’t just ‘I’m just a farm boy’ stuff,” Jeff remarked.
I blinked at him.
“It’s like you’re always watching, always holding back,” Jeff said. “Even so, I’m thinking we’re pretty good mates but then I find out that I don’t know the half of it.”
“I’ve talked about my family before—” I began.
“Only when you had to,” Jeff said, “and then only as little as you could get away with.” He turned his head to me. “Then this magical shows up and all kinds of stuff starts coming out—Lord this and degrees that—”
“It doesn’t matter,” I tried again.
“Doesn’t it?” Jeff asked. “The magical thinks so, Lord Rabbit ibn Chause e Flavan.”
I opened my mouth but nothing came out.
“It has made me wonder how good a mate you really are—”
“Jeff—”
“—and what else you think unnecessary to tell me.” Jeff’s eyes were angry. “Or don’t trust me with.”
I opened my mouth again, and caught sight of Ryson standing silent next to Jeffen, all ears. I sighed. “I suppose if I told you to go away, you’d just find someplace to hide and listen.”