Aleksey's Kingdom (A Royal Affair #2)(25)



“Aleksey… calm down.”

“But—”

“If he did do that, then the dog would very quickly bark, no? He would be heard?”

He calmed a little but twisted around in the saddle to look behind us as if the little demon were there now, watching us. I confess the hair on my scalp pricked when I saw him do this. “Have you ever seen anything like that, Niko? You have seen more of the world than I, I know that.”

I thought about this for a while. I had seen all sorts of evil and much horror. Watching your mother tortured to death is not common for children, I suppose. Was there something similar in the inquisitive way the Powponi had prolonged my mother’s suffering to so many days, to the way the child had looked at Xavier? I did not think so. I could not articulate this to Aleksey, as his world was more black and white than mine, but I had lived with those same men and women and become one of them. Was it not entirely reasonable for them, being told of this great God who was all-powerful—more powerful apparently than their gods who ruled the heavens and the earth just so—that they put his followers to the test? They would expect nothing less of their own but that boasted prowess was proved by pain and endurance. So I did not think what we had witnessed was the same as I had borne as a child at all.

David was something other, but I did not know what. Finally I shook my head. “No, I have never seen anything like that.”

“I think his family knows.”

“Yes. I think they do.” I remembered back to the mother’s deception about her arrival in the New World—and her nonchalance about the boy’s welfare in the forest. Now it made sense. There was probably nothing in this vast wilderness more dangerous than her child. It was a sobering thought. Suddenly I laughed. Aleksey glanced over, surprised. I shrugged. “Maybe we will square him up with the bone-grinding cannibal and see who wins.”

He smiled too, which was unusual, as he did not like humor at other’s expense. I suspected he was still worrying about the puppy. I could guarantee that the first thing he would do upon our return was to go and enquire of its welfare. Faelan reappeared a few minutes later. I glanced at Aleksey. “What does he say about it all?”

Aleksey never knew if I was joking when I made these enquiries. I never knew if he was being truthful in his replies. He murmured calmly, “He promised the next time, he will kill it.”

My brows rose, and I looked at the wolf. We were in complete accord.





Chapter Six


MAJOR PARKINSON was flustered and embarrassed by the incident that day and told everyone many times that it was a rum do, very rum indeed.

Mary Wright, not unnaturally, wanted Faelan shot. The trappers, not unnaturally, volunteered to do it.

Fortunately, we had foreseen this, and Faelan was absent that evening. We had already decided that things were going to change.

It was a very strained atmosphere at the dinner table. Why did we not try to explain what we had seen? We both knew we would not be believed, and if we were, by the parents, who must have suspected if not seen such things before, they would clearly not concede easily to a stranger that they had a monster in the bosom of their family. The least vociferous in their condemnation of Faelan were the three older Wright sons. They, Aleksey and I both noted with great interest, were silent on the matter, but I saw glances between them, and I wondered what their lives had been like for the previous few months. We were not entirely outnumbered, therefore. Captain Rochester was also on our side, I believe. He was an old soldier and not much got past him. If his backing was more for Aleksey and less for Faelan, I let it go. We needed all the allies we could get, and Aleksey was prettier than Faelan, so I could not entirely blame the officer.

Fortunately the child did not make an appearance. He was tired, apparently, asleep, apparently. I thought it more likely he was lying in his tent listening to us, but I kept that to myself.

When it was time to repair to our tents, I told the soldier who was erecting ours in a favorable spot on a grassy bank by the river that we would not need it and to save his efforts. He rose with his mallet in hand and asked deferentially if in that case could he and another soldier use it—as all four of them were in one tent and it was very squashed. I agreed readily and left him to it. Aleksey and I had already decided to move our three horses to where we had told Faelan to lie up, and the six of us would sleep there. I had another plan I wanted to put to Aleksey, too, but knowing him as well as I did, I needed to do this at the right moment to have any chance of success.

We had left Faelan at the summit of a small rise some half mile away from the camp. Thus we had the high ground and the advantage on the enemy. It made us both feel a little foolish, having been soldiers in war, to see a small dark-haired five-year-old boy as the enemy, but nevertheless that’s what he now was. I think it had been the expression in his eyes as he tried to poke out Xavier’s that made the child loom larger in our minds than his stature should allow. There was none. Afterward, for sure, he had looked at me merrily, interest piqued to see how I was reacting, baby teeth visible between his lips as he smiled, but when he had actually done it, then there had been nothing there, as if something that makes up a man and is usually so strong and unfettered in children—for they have not had the knocks life gives you to squash you into the shape of an adult—was absent. I have seen more of this spark of spirit, soul if you will, in animals. I had seen it only a few days previous in the bears with their cubs: teaching them, nurturing them, enjoying the leap of the salmon, just as Aleksey and I were.

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