The Still by David Feintuch

loped down the hill.
    She called after. “Tell Pytor there’s no use to hide from me; I’ll only switch him the worse!”
    I left the trail to pick my way to the rear wall, and the servants’ entrance. Brushing past startled washmaids, beyond the kitchen and the guards’ barracks, along the stairs to the courtyard, I flew up the steps to the ramparts, ran past the ceremonial guard, made for the tower in which we three had conferred.
    The tower stairs were steep, and I paused for breath halfway. If Elryc had mounted some prank, by the Lord of Nature, I’d have his ears. My pace more sober, I climbed the last steps, squeezed past the stack of barrels, strode out onto the deck.
    Elryc was nowhere in sight. Imps take the boy. Brother or not, I’d—
    “Roddy!” A hoarse murmur.
    I whirled. “Where are you? End your games!”
    “Here.” A whisper.
    I peered through the tower door. At first, in the dim light, I saw nothing. Then, behind the row of barrels, a figure. I bounded over the pile of staves, grasped Elryc’s shirt, hauled him to his feet. “What are you playing at?”
    “Where’s Pytor? Did they follow you?”
    “Leave him. Speak, ungrateful son of a buried Queen!” I shook him so his teeth rattled.
    “Stop it, you ass!” He tore loose. He peered down the circular flights to the entry door. “Someone may hear us. Listen for steps.” He perched on a barrel. “This morning, I was asleep in your bed.”
    “Like a log. You—”
    “They knocked, but I didn’t want anyone to know I’d needed company last night, so I lay quiet in my cave.”
    “Under my quilt. Get on with it; I’ve a Council meet to attend.”
    “They walked in without leave, can you imagine? ‘He’s not here,’ one said. ‘Obvious enough,’ growled the other.”
    “So, servants came looking for me. Uncle Mar probably wanted—”
    “Shut up, you big lout! Will you never listen?”
    I filed his insolence in my list of revenges, lapsed into grudging silence. “Finish.”
    “The raspy voice said, ‘He wasn’t in his own room, wasn’t at breakfast; where the devil could he have gone?’ I lay very still. ‘Don’t blame me,’ the other said. ‘It was your idea to wait until day. You be the one to tell the Duke we didn’t grab the little ones.’”
    I stared dumbly at the rampart deck.
    “The first voice answered, ‘No, we’d best find them before we report. You know his lordship’s moods.’ When I was sure they were gone, I sneaked to the stables, gave Kerwyn a message for you. Then I hid. I’ve had no food since yesterday. Did you bring a bite? Anything?”
    I was as one drugged. What was this about?
    “Roddy, don’t you see? We were to be seized, Pytor and I!”
    “But Pytor trotted right past Uncle Mar to climb the hill with me. Mar didn’t lift a finger. You’re making a—”
    “Imbecile! Think you Uncle Mar would take a child, in front of all his guests?”
    “Mind your tongue.” My voice was cold. “Even from you, I won’t—”
    “Fool! Dunce! Dimwit! Why didn’t you bring Pytor?” Elryc danced with frustration. “Care you as little for him as for me? Why didn’t you protect him!”
    I slammed my brother against the stone, knocking the breath from him. “Never call me such names; I’m King! Pytor ran off before Kerwyn brought me your cursed message.”
    Elryc wheezed, his face purple. “Not King yet. Won’t be, unless you rouse yourself.” He gasped for air. “You won’t even let us help you!” His shoulders shook. “Go seek your throne! I’ll worry for Pytor.”
    Dazed, I sat on a barrel. What would Uncle Mar want with Pytor and Elryc? Why not me? I was his danger. He could have taken me in the privacy of his chambers. “Elryc, I’m sorry. Did I hurt you? Here, sit with me.”
    Sobbing, reluctant at first, he let me comfort him.
    “You’re sure you got it right? They said, ‘Grab the little ones’?”
    He nodded.
    I struggled to pull myself together. “Wait here while I