Page 34 of Apple Boy

“I responded first to your message as it was most pressing that you remained here and did not vanish off into the city in search of me. And then I sent a bird home. I’ll wager that with the winds fresh and light it will arrive in Skraedig in, say, three days.” Ivon tossed back the cup of coffee in one scalding mouthful as if he were quaffing wine. He blinked—the shock of it seeming to sober him a little.

Lost in my thoughts, I clenched my jaw with anguish, “Three days… that means three more days of grief for ma-ma.“ I sighed mournfully

“I know.” Ivon said gravely, his voice a little sharper, “But it cannot be helped. At least in three days, the news they receive is good, not ill.”

“Aye, tis’ true.” I guess that was some consolation. “Summer is visiting in Altea,” I said. “Father will need to order her to return home if he has not done so already. There are things afoot that put her in grave danger.” I revealed. My concern that Summer was at the court of Kristoff and Fabian ate at me. What would they do when they discovered that I knew their secret and I lived? How would they react when they found out that the Trojan Star had not made port with that cursed cargo? And what about when they discover that I possess a Star-fall gemstone?

“All will be dealt with in good time,” Ivon assured. He gripped my hand as if he couldn’t quite believe I was real, and a broad, docile smile played across his face.

Ivon had once been as willowy as me, but my uncle loved his indulgencies—food, wine, women, and men. Those pleasures were what he’d wanted to school me in during my visit, with his promise to ‘make a man of me’ for my Bloomsday celebration. He was still an attractive man, but Ivon overindulged with each of his loves, and so his once-nimble frame now held a large round belly, and his blond bearded jowls hid the chiseled cut of his Aeling jawline. He’d regaled me with stories of how he left on his tour of the Empire when I was but a youngling, and on arriving in Serein discovered select pleasures and delicacies unobtainable in Thorn. I had noticed on my way through the city to find the depository, that Sereinean women were curvaceous, comely, and confident with their fuller-figured bodies. Ivon liked to have his pick of young athletic men in Thorn, yet discovered a taste for the more voluptuous women of Serein. Back in Thorn Ivon had three wives, a mistress, two manstresses, and to top that, his wives had born him eight children. And so, to all intents and purposes, Serein was Ivon’s refuge away from the hubbub of those wives, lovers, and bickering children. While I could not discern the nature of the business my uncle undertook while in the city, I knew from his stories of debauchery that time in Serein always meant that he’d returned to his old bachelor ways.

This visit was no longer for entertainment on my part. I was not here in Serein to have myself remade into a ‘real man.’—what was a real man anyway? I was not here to indulge in flesh, wine, and frivolity. As far as I was concerned, my experiences on the road and the fact I still lived proved my maturity and my visit to Serein was as an ambassador to deliver the gravest of news.

I sipped my tea. Ivon poured himself a second cup of coffee and watched me expectantly. My uncle had always thought the world of me, and he’d given into my childish indulgences while father took a sterner hand and put his foot down if I behaved in a beastly manner. Ivon once told me he was proud of the way I’d matured. I did not want to shatter his perfect vision of me. I decided there and then that could not tell my uncle the full uncensored story of my journey. I could not tell him of the depths to which I had fallen to survive. I was ashamed that my sense of entitlement and thoughtless tongue resulted in Jossuah’s murder. I was embarrassed by my actions in Mallowick—at how I was fooled, robbed, beaten, and forced to live like a beggar. Ivon may be proud of my survival now, but if I told him everything—if I told him that I had discovered a Star-fall that held our family seal. If I told him it belonged to his dead brother, and that I’d used its sorcery to take a life. What would he think of me then? The story threads coiled in my mind as I attempted to find a path that was closest to the truth without sharing the whole truth.

The room fell silent, and the atmosphere fizzed as if waiting for a theatrical performance to begin. Adam placed his teacup on its saucer; it clinked noisily. “Sorry” he whispered, embarrassed to break the atmosphere. I was reminded then that Adam had not yet been formally introduced.

“Forgive me. Uncle, I’d like you to meet my—” I stuttered for I did not quite know what to call Adam. Partner? Lover? No, I could not use those labels here in Erias no matter how accurate they may be, or how understanding our current company was. “My dear friend,” I continued, “Adam Sewell of Mallowick.” I sensed from the looks Mr. P and Mr. W gave me that they were all too aware of the nature of my relationship with Adam.

“I owe Adam my life.” I disclosed, a little more dramatically than I intended, “I will tell you my tale in due course, uncle, but for now I assure you that without him I would not be here. I am forever in his debt.”

My gaze fell upon Adam, and the light his eyes shone for me. That lingering look was all too revealing—the look of a lover—far too intimate and meaningful to share with any but the intended recipient, and as if reading my mind I saw color flood to stain his cheeks crimson.

Ivon placed his coffee cup and saucer on the side table and with a roar of effort, he pushed his bulk up from his chair. I gave Adam a nudge, and bewildered at being shown such consideration by an aristocrat, he rose, bowed, and offered his hand to my uncle. Ivon stood with his hands placed on his hips, his shirt poking through where he’d lost a couple of bejeweled buttons from his waistcoat. He gave Adam a long glare, taking his measure, then stepped up and brushed Adam’s outstretched hand aside. Adam appeared alarmed by the action, but then Ivon gripped Adam roughly by the shoulders. I couldn’t help but snicker at the dumbfounded expression Adam wore. It is a tradition in Thorn to press your brow against another’s as a sign of gratitude, no matter the gender. It shows the deepest of respect. Yet, Adam was not schooled in our traditions. Gripping Adam’s shoulders Ivon moved in and Adam jerked his head back in alarm. I let out a hoot of laughter, and Adam shot a reproachful scowl at me. Did he think Ivon was going to kiss him?

“Ah, come here lad. I won’t bite.” Ivon said; a hint of amusement in his tone. He leaned in and pressed his brow to Adam’s and then earnestly declared. “Well met, Adam Sewell of Mallowick. Thank you for all you have done for our Winter to bring him safely back to us.”

“T’was nothin’, my Lord,” Adam said bashfully. But I knew what Adam had done for me was not nothing. I would ensure that my family understood the debt they owed Adam, and we would offer all assistance to find his errant brother. Ivon unhanded Adam, and dazedly my friend reseated himself beside me.

With my uncle settled back in his chair and a cup of hot rich coffee in his hand, I asked for permission to speak freely in front of Mr. P and Mr. W.

Ivon nodded, “I have known these gentlemen all of my life, and they are trusted friends. Tell us what happened to you, mah boy. What became of the ship? How do you come to be here in Serein without the Trojan Star?”

With that authoritative statement, I took a cleansing breath and then I made my telling. Adam remained silent throughout my account for several reasons. Firstly, he already knew all that had happened and was aware of my urgency to tell my uncle about the betrayal of the Twin Kings, and exactly what had become of Jossuah and me. And secondly, Adam was famished, and so his focus remained on stuffing his face with his four slices of Thornian peach cake!

“This is outrageous!” Ivon bellowed when I told him that Jossuah and I had been thrown overboard from the Trojan Star. He rose from his chair and was agitatedly pacing back and forth in front of the mantle as the two Lovebirds mirrored him, sidling up and down their perches.

“And so you have no notion what became of that ship?”

“None, sir. But I do know that the cargo sent by the Kings was not what was reported in the manifest.”

“No! You must be mistaken, my Lord. The Great Council was due to receive thirty strongboxes containing Osian gold, bound for the Royal Mint. We made arrangements. It will be stored here, and of course, we earn a handsome cut of the minted coin.” Mr. Wrenfrey revealed.

“As payment for services, or a bribe?” I snapped. I saw my uncle scowl with disbelief at my impenitence.

“Winter!” He barked disapprovingly, “Hold your tongue!”

“No, sir. I cannot. For there are things I saw aboard that ship—things that no living soul should see. They will haunt me to my grave.”

Ivon’s brows narrowed, and both Lovebirds stilled their anxious sidling.

“There is more?” Ivon’s fingers worried his temples.

“Aye, sir. There was something very wrong upon that ship. I sensed within a few days on the Wide that all was not right.” I admitted, my voice taking on an air of detachment.

“Jossuah and I were barred from exploring below deck, and when bad weather hit… such blood-curdling screams rattled through the timbers. I took it upon myself to explore the cargo hold one night—”

“What? Out with it! Speak plainly, boy!” Ivon urged.