“You know what. Don’t. I mean it, both of you.”
“ ‘Course not,” Raik protested. “After all, Granther an’ Uncle Daz were the two oldest Danns in their generation. It’s hardly our place to take their place, now is it? It’s just a pity it’s over, is all.”
“A real shame,” Jakon agreed. “Folks looked forward to the Lightning all year. He was like a market fair all rolled into one man.”
“Eight men.”
“Yeah, eight men. It would take a lot to fill those shoes.”
“Yep, he was a city tradition.”
“A family tradition as it turns out.”
“So, let him be someone else’s family tradition,” Hektor replied. “An’ I don’t want this getting out, neither,” he continued. “Not to anyone, an’ that means the family too. The last thing we need is Paddy runnin’ naked through the streets in some fool quest to honor Granther. What with him bein’ so sick an’ all,” he added pensively. “Yeah, I guess it is kind of a shame, it’s over. Granther’s just not up to it, the silly old fool.”
Jakon cocked an eyebrow at Raik. “‘Course we won’t tell anyone,” he replied. “It’s Dann business, isn’t it? An’ Paddy’s far too young, anyway. No one’d ever believe it if they caught a glimpse of him.”
“He’d just get his stupid self caught,” Raik agreed.
“So, that’s it, then,” Jakon declared. “We’re sworn to secrecy.”
“All of us. Right Hek?”
“Right.”
“Aiden?”
The oldest Dann brother looked from them to Hektor with a deepening scowl. “I know what you’re tryin’ to do,” he growled. “But yeah, we’re sworn to secrecy.”
Satisfied, the two younger Danns sauntered through the door, leaving the two older Danns to stare silently at each other.
“So that’s it then,” Aiden repeated.
Hektor nodded. “That’s it.”
“Right. That’s it.”
Two nights later, Hektor sat in Ismy Browne’s small kitchen, wiping up the last of the stew in his bowl with a generous piece of biscuit. Ismy set a pie down in the center of the table before joining him.
“I was sorry to hear about Thomar,” she said solemnly. “It was just last night wasn’t it?”
“Early this morning.”
“How are the family doin’?”
He sat back. “Kassie’s takin’ it the hardest. And Paddy too, I guess. It’s only been a couple of months since Da died. But he had a chance to talk to us all, to pass things on afore he went, you know. It was a comfort.”
“Yes, I was pleased to hear about Kassie’s apprenticeship. Your Ma must be very proud.” She smiled at his confused expression. “There’re no secrets in Haven, Hektor,” she said. “Especially in the Watch. You lot gossip more’n a gaggle of laundrywomen.”
“I suppose that’s so. Sometimes anyway.” He stared into space for a moment, then shook himself. “The funeral’s tomorrow morning with a get-together afterwards at the watchhouse. Do you think you might be able to come?”
“Yes, I think so. Jen can watch the shop. It’s time she took on more responsibility.” Ismy busied herself cutting the pie into wedges. “She an’ Shea’ve come to an understandin’,” she said in a conversational tone. “You remember Shea? My late husband’s brother? He took over the saddlery workshop after Quinn died.” When he nodded, she continued. “They’re gettin’ married this spring. I’m thinkin’ they should move into the main room. It’s more appropriate for two. An’ of course they’ll want the whole flat when they start havin’ littles. It’s not really big enough for them an’ me.”
“Oh? Do you, um, think that might be soon?” Hektor asked, suddenly feeling too enclosed in the warm kitchen.
“Oh, yes. Like I said, they’ve come to an understandin’. Of course, she knew it long afore he did, but that’s often the way.”
She collected the bowls and took them over to the sink. “Suli tells me she an’ Aiden have taken the flat below yours,” she mentioned.
“Yeah. They move down in a couple of weeks.” He took a deep breath. “That’ll leave our main room free as well. You know, if there were maybe another understandin’ to come to. You know. Maybe.”
“Do you think there might be?” she asked without turning around.
“I think maybe, yeah. That is, if you do. Do you?”
She finally turned with an exasperated smile. “Like I said, it’s often the way.” When he continued to look uncertain, she shook her head. “That means yes, I do think there might be an understandin’ to come to. Honestly. Did you want a bit of cheese?”
“What?”
“Cheese. With your pie?”
“Oh, yeah, sure, thanks.”
She cut a large piece off a round in the pantry.
“That’s a bit?” he asked, bemused when she set it down in front of him with an equally large piece of pie.
“You look as if you could use it. You look tired. Again.”
“Yeah, well, it’s been a rough few days.”
“So I hear. They say the Lightning finally made an appearance last night.”
He started. “You heard . . . ?”
“I did. You didn’t see him?” she asked pointedly.
“Uh . . . why would I?”
She turned, hands on hips. “I know you stood night watch last night, Hektor Dann, so don’t try to deny it. I told you, there are no secrets in Haven especially in the Watch. So.” She folded her arms in a businesslike gesture. “Are you all through with this Watchman’s Ball foolishness for another year?”
Lifting a piece of pie to his mouth, he stared at it for a long time before looking up.
“Yeah,” he said. “For another year.”
Chapter 16 - Judgment Day - Nancy Asire
“So, Levron, are you looking forward to returning home?”
Levron glanced at the man who rode at his side. Perran was a traveling judge, representative of the justiciary of Karse, its eyes, ears, and judgment passed by one who rightfully upheld the laws of the Son of the Sun and, more importantly, the laws of Vkandis Sun Lord. Perran was all that Levron was not: tall, with dark, hawkish features molded from the classic Karsite version of male beauty that would stand out in any crowd, even if he did not wear the dark robes of a judge. Levron could only contrast his own looks with that of his companion. At best, he would become lost in the same crowd. He had no memorable features, though he was hardly ill to look upon. And this was his strength. He could move among people and leave no lasting impression.
He was, he freely admitted, a friend of sorts to Perran, and he had served the judge many times by riding ahead to the scene of a trial and losing himself in the town or village. From this vantage point, he had been able to gather information about the accusers and accused that might have become lost in a formal trial. The insights he gathered he passed to Perran, and, in many cases, that knowledge had swayed a decision that otherwise might have been erroneous.
“It’s been a while,” he admitted, flicking his reins at a fly determined to light on his horse’s neck. “But this time, I’ll be of no use to you at the trial. There’s a good chance some people in Streamwood will remember me.”
“Ah, well,” Perran said. “This case doesn’t seem, on its face, to need your talents. You might, however, know the litigants involved.”
Levron snorted. “I used to know them. Everyone’s aware how time can change people.”
“Time deals differently with us all. I’ll still need your observations, Levron. You know, or knew, these people at one time. Maybe they haven’t changed as much as you think.”
“Possibly. The two men involved were acquaintances years back. The woman . . . she and I also knew each other. Her reputation was well-acknowledged around town.”