A Call to Arms: Book One of the Chronicles of Arden (23 page)

BOOK: A Call to Arms: Book One of the Chronicles of Arden
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Carmen and Inez chattered on about Academy and what they would do with themselves once they were done with their schooling. Gib found it peculiar to hear the dreams and ambitions of ones so young and privileged. Koal distracted Neetra with polite but uninspired conversation.

Heidi smiled warmly—an expression that looked out of place on her face—and leaned over her empty plate a little. “Nawaz, how is your internship faring? Are you looking forward to graduation?”

Nawaz didn’t respond immediately, opting to fill his goblet with wine from a nearby pitcher. When he did answer her, the young lord sounded only half interested. “It’s going as well as can be expected. I’m being forced to do it, and it will be done in a little more than a year’s time.”

Gib took the pitcher as it was passed to him and continued to eavesdrop.

Heidi didn’t seem to catch Nawaz’s icy reception. Instead, her eyes sparkled as she continued the conversation. “When you graduate you’ll be able to get a fine job and buy a nice house. If you save for a year, or even two, you could buy something on this very street or the next one over.” Nawaz grunted and drank while she tittered on. “And a year after you graduate I’ll finish my schooling. It will work out perfectly.”

“Hrm. Perfect.” Nawaz refused to elaborate further, but her smile didn’t falter.

When an uncomfortable silence grew around them, Joel stepped in to fill the void. “You know, Heidi, there’s an old saying about chickens and counting.”

She fixed angry eyes on her brother and opened her mouth but was stopped short when Mrifa came bustling through the entryway and announced they would be taking their soup now. Koal looked up from his conversation with Neetra long enough to ask his wife about their missing son.

Mrifa’s mouth pulled down slightly at the corners. “I’m not sure, but you know Liro. He’ll arrive when he deems it appropriate.”

Joel snorted, rolling his eyes. Gib smiled and refrained from shaking his head. Who in their right mind would keep their family and this great feast waiting? He supposed Liro’s sanity was debatable—

“Lady Mrifa Adelwijn, seat yourself,” Bailey demanded as he swept through the room with Tabitha scurrying behind him. He set out the bowls more quickly than she could fill them, and Tabitha kept casting the male servant brooding looks.

Gib scrutinized the odd dish before him as he waited patiently for his soup to be served. The high gloss bowl was made from the purest white material and flaming phoenixes were painted along the sides. Smooth and cool, it was unlike any pottery he’d ever seen before.

Joel’s voice was warm in Gib’s ear. “It’s porcelain—from Beihai.”

“Isn’t that far away?” Gib asked, so preoccupied with the details of the painting he barely heard Joel chuckle.

“It’s as far east as you can go before meeting the sea.”

Lady Mrifa piped up, settling her fine skirt as she took the seat next to her husband. “Oh yes. The phoenix bowls. They’re lovely, aren’t they? King Rishi gifted them to me several years back and I’ve only ever dared use them for special occasions.” She smiled when Tabitha poured a ladle of soup into her dish before continuing. “If they were to break I would surely never be able to get a replacement.”

When each bowl was full and Bailey finally sat at long last—per Mrifa’s request and Neetra’s command—they were allowed to enjoy the appetizer. Gib savored the rich broth, full of vegetables, wild rice, and chicken. Back on the farm, this would have been considered a meal on its own, but here it was meant to make him crave the main course even more. It worked like one of Joel’s spells. The bottom of the bowl appeared all too soon, and Gib could scarcely wait for the next dish.

Koal began to slice the ham while other dishes were passed from hand to hand. Gib rolled his eyes when he heard Neetra snivel about having to fill his own plate. “Where is that servant of yours? Did she make off to be useless?”

The seneschal snorted, fixing his brother with a dark look. “Tabitha is taking her Midwinter meal in the other room. This is a holiday, after all.”

Neetra stuck his nose in the air, and Gib saw Nawaz clench his jaw. Joel, Inez, and Carmen also seemed equally put off by the councilor’s behavior. If Neetra noticed, he surely didn’t care and promptly went back to his drink. The lull lingered before the others around the table ventured back to their prior conversations.

Nawaz bumped his elbow into Gib and passed him the gravy boat. “Maybe you can ask Lady Mrifa to save some of this for your friend Nage.”

Gib froze for an instant, reminiscing. What an odd sight it must have been for the highborn to meet the two of them while they ate gravy straight from a bowl with nothing but bread to dip into it. A rebellious smile stole across Gib’s face as he broke down into sobbing laughter.

Joel glanced up from his own plate, and one by one, the others around the table also stopped their conversations to look at Gib. When Lady Mrifa smiled and asked if he was all right, Gib nodded and poured himself some gravy before passing it on to Joel.

“Never better, m’lady. I swear it. Thank you for all of these wonderful foods.”

She smiled warmly and bowed her head. Seneschal Koal might have even grinned a little as he handed out thick slabs of ham. The mood around the table lightened after that and the meal was enjoyed.

When everyone was close to being done with the main course and contemplating dessert, a commotion came from the front door. Lady Mrifa leapt to her feet at once and bustled out to see who it was. A moment later, her voice rang high and clear as she announced that Liro had arrived at long last. Gib’s stomach lurched and he could hear both Nawaz and Joel sigh heavily. Even the other children fell silent.

Liro marched into the dining room a moment later, his mother virtually hanging off him. Without so much as a backward glance, he shooed her away with one hand as he came toward Koal and Neetra. Cloak still clasped around shoulders and dark hair speckled with snow, Liro was a formidable sight. As always, his mouth was pulled down into an ugly frown, and he glared around at all of them as though he disapproved.

“Father,” Liro offered in greeting to the seneschal. His lofty voice carried across the quiet room as he bowed his head.

Koal tilted his own head downward in return. “Take off your cloak and sit down. What kept you?”

“Apologies for being tardy, I was unwell earlier.” Mouth still pressed into a thin line, Liro unclasped his cloak and gestured to the empty space about him. “Where are the servants? There was no one to open the door when I arrived.”

Lady Mrifa adjusted her skirt as she sat down for the second time. Her cheeks were flushed with color. She kept her voice even but the lack of warmth gave away her discontentment. “This is a holiday, Liro. Otos is with his family and Tabitha is taking her much deserved meal.”

Liro groaned, annoyed. “A servant has a duty to see to the affairs of the house, Mother. I stood at the door, waiting. I even had to knock—at my own parents’ door.”

Koal leaned back in his seat and tilted his head to one side. “I’m sorry about that. Have you forgotten how the handle works?”

Liro’s face pinched, and Gib bit his bottom lip to keep from laughing. Nawaz barked a laugh, drawing attention to himself. The elder Adelwijn son turned cold blue eyes toward their end of the table, and Gib sank down in his chair under the weight of the young lord’s glare.

“I see we have—
guests
,” Liro remarked. Nothing about his tone sounded pleasant as he removed the cloak from around his neck and folded it over his arm. “Mother, you’re too kind, always taking in strays—and surely without a word of thanks.”

Gib’s face almost burst from the heat rising to his cheeks, and Joel instinctively jerked his hand toward Gib as if to protect him.

Seneschal Koal focused his sharp eyes onto Liro. “This is our guest, Gibben Nemesio of Willowdale. He’s Joel’s roommate and friend. You would do well to treat him with respect.”

Liro paused and visibly recoiled as his gaze flickered to Gib. An evident note of shock could be heard in Liro’s voice when next he spoke. “Oh, I see. I hadn’t even noticed him, hidden as he was.” Liro inclined his head in a mockery of a bow before pressing on. “I, of course, was referring to our good uncle’s waif, Nawaz.”

Nawaz flinched as though he’d taken a physical blow and sucked in his bottom lip. Joel gasped. Lady Mrifa and Bailey both turned a sharp look. Even Heidi, who had done nothing but twitter on mindlessly since Gib had first met her, whirled around to tell her brother to mind his mouth. For all of this, Liro only smiled. Gib shuddered as a jolt of cold resonated through his bones.

Koal frowned and shook his head. “We’re not doing this, Liro. Our guests are—”

“Nay, brother.” Neetra waved a dismissive hand and smiled in that same smug manner as before. “You do your son no favors by silencing him. The truth, no matter how unpopular, cares not who tells it. Liro’s courage to speak honestly shouldn’t be squashed.”

This drew reprisal from Koal, Mrifa, and Bailey in unison. Despite the formality of their dinner, the heads of the house were at odds with their guests. Gib stared at his plate and stayed as quiet possible. The other children did the same. They had crossed into another of those unspoken guidelines which dictated how the highborn were to behave. So while the debate at the head of the table raged on, the rest of them sat in silence, waiting for it to ebb.

At one point Liro’s voice separated from the others. “I only mean to say that proper respect and gratitude should be shown. My good uncle didn’t have to take on a bastard and raise it as his own. Nawaz Arrio, despite his name, has been given all the fineries Lord Neetra has worked his life away for. Nawaz resides in the palace, has the finest schooling at his disposal, and even carries the crest of the Adelwijn family. Such great allowances should not be taken lightly.”

The conversation grew even more heated. Gib could hear Nawaz’s teeth grinding together. When the young lord cleared his throat and made to stand, Joel’s hand shot out across Gib to grab Nawaz’s wrist. “Nawaz, no. You needn’t play into this.” Joel’s voice was hushed but all of the lordlings and young ladies could hear him.

Heidi’s cheeks had gone a terrible scarlet under her powered face. “Joel is right. Liro knows what he’s doing. Acknowledging him will only encourage this despicable behavior.”

Gib agreed but felt it wasn’t his place to say as much. Nawaz, however, seemed not to be swayed by their words. The young lord shook his head once, keeping his voice low and controlled. “Despite any of that, it is my duty to respond. If I don’t, I’ll be a coward as well as a bastard.”

The twins had remained eerily quiet until now, but Inez broke her silence. “Nawaz, no. Let Father and Liro have their moment. It will pass and then we may—”

“Roll onto our backs, wag our tails, and hope for the best?” Nawaz shot back. No merriment entered his words; no glimmer in his eye suggested the analogy was a quip. Gib’s guts churned as Nawaz stood and waited for an opportunity to speak.

The young lord cleared his throat to gain the attention of the adults at the head of the table, and though he spoke eloquently, his voice was raw and harsh. “I would beg forgiveness from my lord and high councilman, Neetra Adelwijn, as well as Lord Liro Adelwijn. If I’ve caused offence I assure you both it was not my intention.” Every word grinded through his teeth like sand in a wheel cog.

Koal and Mrifa both opened their mouths as if to respond, horror etched across their countenances. Liro strolled closer, keeping his gaze fixed on his prey.

Pompous and overbearing, Liro closed in and his sinister voice dipped low as he replied, “Forgiveness granted, Arrio. It is good for every man to remember his place,” Liro thrust his cloak at Nawaz, “which is why I’m sure you’ll have no problem in hanging that up for me like a good lad.”

Heidi shrieked her indignation. “Bad form, Liro Adelwijn!”

Joel gasped aloud, and Seneschal Koal flew to his feet. “That is enough! Liro, you can put your own damned cloak away! Nawaz, sit down.”

Nawaz’s eyes were bleary as he looked up from the cloak. The young lord began to nod, but Neetra’s whine startled him, caused him to freeze in place.

“This is all nonsense. Liro is right, my stepson is rude. His privileged life has spoiled him and he often neglects to be sufficiently grateful. After all, were it not for the generosity of the Adelwijn family, he could just as well have wound up a Nessuno, working in the mines.”

Bailey slammed his fist on the table so sharply that Lady Mrifa jumped almost as high as Gib. “Oh, this is ridiculous! Neetra Adelwijn, you pompous windbag, no wonder no one loves you.” The servant rose to his feet so quickly he very nearly knocked into Liro. Bailey glared at the younger man without apology. “If the two of you are so determined to feel superior to someone then may I offer my assistance?
I’ll
hang the damned cloak.”

Liro paused, eyes flitting to his uncle. For the first time Gib had seen, Liro seemed to be in unfamiliar territory.

Neetra, however, overstepped his servant with little more than a grim look. “Bailey, sit down. This doesn’t concern you.”

Bailey waved toward Nawaz with a flourish and only won a more severe glare for his effort. “Well, it hardly concerns him either.”

Neetra’s voice clipped, his face angry and red. “Bailey, I will
not
be so considerate again. Sit down. This is between Nawaz and me.”

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