Too Many Princes by Deby Fredericks Page B

doubt. He sure was fond of them.
    Brastigan sighed as he turned from the warm, waiting blankets on his own bed. It took a bit of shuffling in the dark to locate Crusher. He stubbed his toe in the process and, thus painfully awakened, padded down the stairs.
    The common room was dark and silent, of course. The scent of the fireplace hung in the air faintly, bitterly. A single tallow candle had been left burning. This revealed the welcome sight of Lottres sitting near the fire. The slim young man had pulled a bench practically onto the hearth, where embers glowed dully under the blackened log rack. He was leaning forward so far he seemed about to fall into it.
    Fire-gazing again. This was becoming an unsettling habit.
    Brastigan hadn't realized how worried he was until he saw his brother safe. Then he released an exasperated breath and stepped forward purposefully. As he walked, he kicked a spoon under a bench and sent it singing into the darkness.
    Lottres straightened at the sound. At least he had some awareness of what was going on around him, Brastigan thought. Hands on hips, he stood over his brother.
    Lottres blinked up at him. “ What are you doing down here? ”
    “ Getting you up to bed, ” Brastigan answered gruffly. “ You're going to fall from the saddle one day if you don't start getting more sleep. ”
    His brother smiled wryly. “ Yes, Nursie. ”
    “ I'll nurse you! ” Brastigan knocked his curly head lightly with Crusher. “ Come on. ”
    Lottres rose stiffly, as if he had been sitting in that strange position for some time. As his brother followed him toward the stairway, Brastigan muttered, “ What are you doing in here? That's what I'd like to know. ”
    “ I was listening to the fire, ” came the desultory explanation. Lottres sounded as if he was already half asleep.
    Brastigan's snort echoed up the stairs. “ The bards, you mean. Why do you waste your time with them and their wild stories? ”
    “ I'm looking for news. ” Around a yawn, Lottres repeated his familiar argument. “ I'd like to know what lies ahead of us. Wouldn't you? ”
    “ You're going to start rumors about yourself. ”
    “ Instead of rumors about you? That would be a change, ” Lottres teased. “ What, are you jealous? ”
    “ Ha! ” Brastigan swung open the door to their chamber. As he did so, he saw Pikarus opening the door to his own room, just down the hall. Speaking of nursemaids... Brastigan nodded to the squad leader before following his brother into their room.
    “ Get to bed, Pup, ” Brastigan yawned, “ so I can get to bed. ”
    More shuffling in the dark commenced, as Brastigan returned to bed and Lottres got ready for his. Finally, the room was quiet. But only for a short time.
    “ Bras? ” Lottres's voice came from the darkness. “ I meant to tell you, I think we're being followed. ”
    “ What? ” Rushes crackled as Brastigan rolled over.
    “ There's a tinker. Maybe you've seen him. ” Lottres paused to yawn again, while Brastigan waited impatiently. “ He's been at every inn where we've stayed for the past five days. ”
    “ I couldn't see past the boot-lickers and flunkies, ” Brastigan answered. “ Anyway, we were at Rockaine Keep last night. ”
    “ I know. The only nights I haven't seen him were then and when we stayed at Belegoth Keep the third night out. You'd think, if he were a wanderer looking for work, that he'd be stopping along the way. ”
    Brastigan said nothing, so Lottres continued, “ I walked by his table two days ago, and again tonight during supper. His tool pack doesn't even look like it's been opened. ”
    Brastigan rolled onto his back, hands clasped behind his head, and stared into the darkness where the ceiling was supposed to be. He searched his memory for any suspicious travelers.
    “ You're right, ” he said after a moment. “ I think I've seen him a couple of times. ”
    Brastigan poked at the image in his mind: a shabby fellow with a long nose, drooping