Fable: The Balverine Order (Fable) (29 page)

A man stepped into view. He was tall, close to six feet, with thick brown hair that had touches of gray in the wide sideburns. He was dressed entirely in gray, the only contrast being his voluminous cloak, which was of thick white fur. Even though there was no breeze whatsoever in the dank cell area, the fur seemed to be riffling, as if it had a life all its own. Poxy actually whimpered slightly and backed up, taking refuge behind James and peering out from between his legs.

“Greetings, my young fellows,” he said in his booming voice. “You've created quite the stir in Sutcliff. My good friend, the magistrate, had a great deal to say about it.”

James wanted to say defiantly that if the magistrate was a good friend to this man, then clearly this man could not be any friend to them. But he decided to keep his mouth shut since the last thing they needed was his exacerbating the situation.

Thomas instead spoke up, and said neutrally, “I'm sure he did. Did he tell you that you could send the guard away and talk to us?”

The man laughed at that, his upper body shaking as if that were the funniest thing that he had ever heard. When he recovered himself, he said, “No, no, fellow. I am not one who has to ask leave of the magistrate. He has his uses, certainly, and he does a superb job of keeping order in Lower Sutcliff. But I don't have to ask his leave for anything.”

“Who are you?” said Thomas.

He bowed slightly, and said, “Laird Ethan Kreel, at your service.” And even as the last name sank in, he continued, “Or maybe I should say that you have been at my service?” He turned to his right, and said firmly, “I believe you have something to say, young lady?”

He pulled someone into view then from where she had been standing off to the side. It was the young thief. She looked severely chastened by his presence but nevertheless managed to summon a touch of her previous defiance. “Thank you for saving me from getting my hand chopped off,” she said, while managing not to sound the least bit grateful at all. Indeed, she sounded more like she resented their intervention, as if unwilling to acknowledge, even after all that had happened, she was at all in their debt.

Her petulant tone was not lost on the laird. “You'll have to excuse my daughter. She has a mind of her own, which is a tragic inconvenience when it comes to women, don't you think?”

His daughter?
The thought went through both their minds.

“Now, then.” And Laird Kreel clapped his hands together and rubbed them briskly. “Let's get you out of his hellhole. You will come and be guests in my manse as a thanks for the service you provided us in saving my daughter from that foolish sergeant, who apparently was unable to recognize nobility when it was standing right in front of him.”

“May I ask, my laird ...” Thomas began.

“Oh, ‘Kreel' will suffice. I do not tend to stand on ceremony.”

“Okay, then . . . Kreel ... I was wondering if you were the same Kreel who had been seeking participants for a balverine expedition?”

“The very same, yes. Why?” And he seemed to regard them with new interest. “Are you keen to join us? You're certainly brave enough, that much you have made clear.”

“I would be keen, yes. We both would be,” said Thomas, indicating himself and James. “But do you have any experience hunting them? Have you ever actually, you know . . . seen one?”

“Seen one?” Again Kreel laughed, and he indicated the white cape he wore over his broad shoulders. “Where do you think this came from, fellows? The pelt of a frost balverine, this is. Killed and skinned the bastard myself on expedition to the far northern wastelands. I'll be happy to tell you all about it.”

“He'll be more than happy,” said the girl ruefully. “In fact, if you want to shut him up, you can pretty much forget about it.”

“Quiet, Sabrina,” he ordered her. “You've indulged your disrespectful tongue enough for one outing, I should think. So, fellows”—and he turned back to them—“this meeting would seem to be serendipitous for all of us.”

“I could not agree more,” said Thomas.

At which point Sabrina actually smiled at Thomas.

For some reason, despite their imprisonment, their nonexistent trial, and the summary execution of the sergeant who had threatened them, James found that moment—Sabrina smiling—to be the single-most-disconcerting thing he'd encountered in the past day.

“WELL ,” SAID JAMES, NODDING IN SATISFACTION,
“
this
is certainly a step up from our previous quarters.”

That was something of an understatement. The guest room that they had been accorded in the mansion of Ethan Kreel was positively vast in comparison to the cell, with ornate furniture and two oversized beds. James flopped back on one of them and let out a contented sigh. “I swear, this is so incredible, I could sink into it, fall asleep, and never wake up.”

“You realize that never waking up would be a
bad
thing, don't you?” Thomas pointed out.

“Oh. Right. I guess so.”

There was a thick rug in the middle of the room, and Poxy took up residence on it. Even
she
looked contented.

“I don't suppose he'd let us move in here,” James said hopefully and only half-joking. “I mean . . . the size of this place! It's epic, Thomas! Epic!”

Thomas certainly couldn't disagree with that. The mansion was almost more castle than mansion. Three stories tall, designed in an “E” shape, constructed entirely of stone, with a combination of gothic gables and three towering spires, one at either end and one directly over the main entrance. They had passed other homes on the way, each of them similarly grand, but this was easily the most prominent in the area.

The guest rooms were on the third floor, which was the only one to have any corridors; on the bottom two floors, one room simply led into another and another, each more grand than the one before it. James felt as if being there had a dizzying effect on him, as if he were climbing a mountain, and the air was becoming increasingly rarefied.

James continued to lie stretched out on the bed, and then he looked at Thomas, who was leaning against one of the walls, looking thoughtful. “You know, there are actually some nice chairs here,” James pointed out. “You could actually, you know, sit.”

“Why was Kreel going around to different towns trying to enlist people for a balverine expedition? I'm just not sure I get it. I'd figured, from what I'd heard, that he was trying to get the money together to finance it. But you've seen this place. Obviously, he doesn't need the money ...”

“Obviously, I do not.”

They were both startled by the sound of Kreel's voice. He was standing at the doorway, dressed casually, looking amused.

“You have a very soft footfall, sir. Not to mention an unnerving habit of hanging about doorways,” said Thomas.

“When one is a tracker, one is accustomed to being able to move with a light tread,” said Kreel. “As for doorways ...” And with a shrug, he stepped into the room. “Now . . . as you noted, I obviously have no need of money. Whoever told you I was soliciting customers for a hunt apparently got their facts wrong. I was instead offering to
hire
people to act as servants on an expedition. They may have heard that money was involved and simply misunderstood.”

“That does make a bit more sense,” Thomas said guardedly.

“Of course it does. A journey such as this entails a great deal of equipment, ranging from tents to specialized weaponry such as silver bullets or silver daggers. If I'm on my own, of course, I'm perfectly capable of attending to my own needs. But several well-to-do individuals will be joining this excursion, and they are unaccustomed to having to carry so much as their own handbag.” He shook his head and had a pitying expression, as if he could not fathom the sort of people who would require such aid. “In any event, I am pleased to say that my endeavors to that end were successful. I've acquired eight servants to join us. I assume, since you've come a long way on your own, that you will not need anyone to attend to you.”

James was about to state that, in point of fact, he was Thomas's servant and that attending to Thomas was his job, but Thomas said quickly, “No, of course not. We can do fine on our own.”

“I suspected as much,” said Kreel. “And I, as I mentioned, am self-sufficient. So eight servants for the three individuals who will be accompanying us should be enough, don't you think?” Thomas and James nodded. “Excellent, then. Dinner, by the way, will be served within the next few minutes, so feel free to come down and meet the others in our sojourn tomorrow.”

“How did they come to join the group?”

“Oh, word gets around,” said Kreel. “I've taken others on such expeditions, and they tell their friends, who contact me and ask if they can likewise participate. That's the thing about the nobility, you see. One person hears about it, and the next thing you know, they all wish to be involved. You'll meet them.”

“I'm not sure we'll fit in,” said James. “We're not exactly titled individuals.”

“Say that you are. They will not know. Tell them whatever you wish.”

Thomas was surprised by the notion. “They won't believe us.”

“Of course they will. You are in the home of a rich man. What else would you be but the sons of rich men, sent to spend time with me and learn the skills of hunting and tracking.”

“Yeah, well”—and Thomas plucked at his clothing, extremely worn from their time on the road and in harsh elements—“we don't exactly have the outfits to carry that off.”

“Of course you do.”

As if on cue, a servant came in, pushing a rack of clothing. The boys looked at it in surprise. As near as they could tell, it would all readily fit them.

“You were expecting to have guests of our general size and shape who would require clothing?” said James.

“Expect?” He chuckled. “You will find as you go through life, Thomas, that the wise man expects nothing but anticipates everything. By the way, you gentlemen are quite sure you do not wish separate quarters?”

“No, this will more than do,” said Thomas.

“It is, of course, none of my business, but are the two of you . . . ?” And he looked from one to the other with a raised eyebrow.

Thomas didn't understand, but James did, and very quickly he said, “No! No, it's not like that at all.”

At which point Thomas did comprehend, and he seconded James's assertion. “It's just that, we have been traveling together for so long now, and watching each other's back ...”

“I totally understand,” said Kreel. “Would that I had a traveling companion on whom I could count so thoroughly. Very well, then. I will see you later this evening.”

He turned then and left the room, leaving the boys to sort through the clothing and be extremely impressed by what they saw.