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"Still waiting for an answer about my wine!" roared Tal. He struggled to keep a straight face. He rarely used his father's voice to fluster Eckart, but it worked every time. Chaney insisted it was because Eckart received exactly such rebukes each time he reported on Thamalon Uskevren's wastrel son.

"It's at Stormweather, sir, along with the rest of your belongings." Eckart gulped as he saw Tal's brow's furrow in another perfect imitation of the elder Uskevren. "Lord Uskevren thought it best to remove everything to your rooms at home."

Eckart's earlier words finally sank in, and Tal said quietly in his own voice, "Because he thought I was dead."

"Oh, no, sir," replied Eckart in a tone of genuine distress. "Your father-all of us-never gave up hope. Your father merely felt that, upon your return, you'd prefer the safety of-"

"You mean the confinement," interrupted Tal, now genuinely angry. His sudden flare of temper surprised him, for as much as he resented his parents' continued coddling, he also appreciated their concern-especially after his recent ordeal.

Tal noticed Eckart's pale lips working soundlessly, looking for all the world like the gasping of a fish out of water. "It's all right, Eckart," said Tal more gently. "I realize I've been missing for an awfully long time."

Eckart swallowed his distress as best he could, but Tal realized he had to make sure the servant wouldn't have time to report his return before he himself could go to Stormweather.

"Just see that everything's back in order here by tomorrow morning," said Tal with an impish gleam in his eye.

"Tomorrow!" sputtered Eckart. "But-"

"But first, draw me a hot bath. Is the tub still here?"

"Yes, but-"

"And summon a barber." He scratched under his chin. "I don't like this beard."

"Yes, but-"

"And fetch me some clean clothes-not from Stormweather, mind you. Buy new ones."

"Yes, but-"

"And have you any funds on hand?"

"Yes, but-"

"Good. Once you've drawn the bath, summoned the barber, and fetched me some clothes, take one hundred fivestars to the Outlook Inn, and give them to a farmer named Mott."

"A farmer! But sir-"

"Thank you, Eckart. That will be all."

With a look of genuine pain, Eckart nodded his assent. Tal felt briefly guilty for harrying him so.

"Oh, and Eckart?"

"Yes, Master Talbot?"

"It's good to see you again."

Before approaching Stormweather Towers, Tal stopped to observe his reflection in the frozen waters of a public fountain.

His gray eyes glittered beneath his black hair, now trimmed neatly above his short collar. Eckart had found him some warm woolen hose whose dove gray hue matched the shirtsleeves that showed through the slashes in his blue doublet. The ensemble was completed by Tal's favorite longboots, into which he'd tucked a fine but simple dagger at the right hip. It was his concession to going armed out of doors. As much as he enjoyed sword practice, he loathed the inevitable confrontations his size attracted from the city's bravos. Sometimes, it was more trouble being a big man than a small one.

Straightening his warm weathercloak, Tal left the fountain and came to Stormweather Towers.

The mansion was one of the newest in Selgaunt, but at first glance it looked like the accumulated accidents of a dozen different architects. The house itself was a great stone collection of towers and turrets, each with its own character. It took a thorough observation to realize that the seemingly random collection of structures formed a unified if complex whole.

Stables and a guardhouse formed the shorter branch of the L-shaped border around the open courtyard. The quadrangle was completed by a cunning array of intimate gardens bordered with fruit trees.

The only people standing outside in the cold afternoon wind were a quartet of family guards. Their leader tipped Tal a wink that told him his arrival was expected. With a sigh, Tal smiled his thanks for the warning and went to the door. It opened at his approach, and there stood Erevis Cale, the family butler.

"How good to have you returned home, Master Talbot," said the gaunt man. His head and face were immaculately shaved, but his clothes hung loosely on his angular frame. Somehow Cale always seemed taller than Tal, though he was a few inches shorter.

"You're not surprised to see me, are you, Cale?" Tal smiled to take the edge off his disappointment. He liked the butler, who had an uncanny knack of knowing what was about to happen before it did. Tal had never decided whether the talent was supernatural or merely criminal.

Cale smiled faintly, a rare expression on those thin lips, and one that might seem chilling to someone who didn't know him better. Sometimes Tal's elder sister teasingly called the man "Mister Pale," though Tal would never dare do so. He had no doubt that Cale would hear of it, and Tal shrunk at the thought of the man's disapproval.

"I don't know how you do it," said Tal, shaking his head. "Still no chance of your replacing Eckart?"

Cale's smile nearly turned warm. "I suspect Lord Thamalon might forbid it, young sir."

"Yes," agreed Tal. "I suspect he might, too."

"Your father awaits you in the library, Master Talbot."

"Thanks, Cale," said Tal, stepping into the foyer. "Does everyone…?"

Tal's question was smothered as a veritable comet of older sister crashed into him. All he saw before the powerful arms clamped around his neck was a flash of scarlet fabric and ink-black hair.

"Tazi!" he gasped before the last of his breath was cut off.

"You great buffoon! You should have come here as soon as you returned to the city. Don't you know how worried we were?"

Tal hugged her back, just hard enough to make her ease up on his collapsing lungs. She was tiny compared to him, but she was fierce and strong. "You'd feel differently if you'd had a whiff of me when I arrived."

Thazienne, more often called Tazi, pushed herself back and held Tal at arm's length. For a moment, Tal thought he saw the hint of tears glimmering in her eyes, but she wouldn't let them come. "They looked everywhere, and there was no sign of you."

"I know," said Tal. "I came back as soon as I could." He made a point of looking over his shoulder as if to examine his back.

"What are you doing?" asked Tazi.

"Just making sure you haven't pinned a tail to me."

They laughed as Cale looked on with his inscrutable neutrality. As well as he knew the Uskevren children, he wasn't present for the many childhood pranks Tazi had played on Tal. Once she had talked him into drinking a potion that turned him green for most of a tenday. Loyal to the end, Tal took the blame-and the punishment-when their mother had to endure the embarrassment of Tal's appearance at the appropriately timed Greengrass Festival.

That was the least of Tazi's pranks. The one that most threatened their youthful alliance came when Tazi embroidered bunnies and lambs on all of Tal's underclothes just before he went on a swimming trip with the young sons of a half-dozen other families. On the bright side, Tal learned a lot about fistfighting, and he came back the most formidable brawler of his cohorts that summer. Moreover, he made fast friends with Chaney Foxmantle, who until then had borne the brunt of the other boys' torments.

"It's just like you to keep us all waiting," called another familiar voice from the inner hall. Tal looked up to see his elder brother standing in the doorway.

Thamalon Uskevren the Second was better known as Tamlin. Even at six year's Tal's senior, he was much smaller than his younger brother, but he carried himself as if he were much greater in everyway. He leaned casually against the doorjamb, idly glancing at his fingernails as if to observe his reflection there. His fine clothing made Tal's new attire seem as mangy as his recent makeshift clothes. "I'm glad you're not dead, little brother."