Dragon Bones (Hurog #1)(52)
"Of course," replied Garranon with more calm than he felt. Bleakly, he knew he'd be standing on the king's right when Haverness rode out of Estian with his hundred. "Thank you for the bout. Pray excuse me, the king commands my presence."
Erdrick looked in the mirror at himself wearing Beckram's green and gold court outfit. He closed his eyes and imagined pulling Beckram's reckless self-assurance around his shoulders like a cloak. This is the last time, he thought, and couldn't tell if he were serious or not. There was freedom in being Beckram, freedom and exhilaration. When Erdrick opened his eyes, he looked at Beckram in the mirror, tugged the neck of his tunic straight, and strolled out of his rooms.
Despite his protests to Beckram, Erdrick was comfortable in his brother's skin. In the crowded court he flirted and charmed the ladies and exchanged half-barbed quips with the men. But he couldn't force himself go near the queen. Let his brother make up with her afterward if she chose to take offense.
At dinner, Alizon, the king's half brother, sat at the empty place next to him. "So, your father has been named Hurogmeten in his brother's place," he said in a bored tone.
"Damnable thing," Erdrick agreed in Beckram's lazy drawl. "Poor Father. Hurog's cold in the winter and damp in the summer. Half the peasants are freeholders - serfs are much easier to deal with. Most of the time, it's all the Hurogmeten can do to see that the people are fed; the rest of the time, they're not fed."
"The title's an old one."
"That and a half copper will buy a loaf of bread. The worst of it is - " Erdrick managed exactly the right put-upon tone. " - my younger brother gets the better end of the bargain. Iftahar is richer and warmer than Hurog."
"So you didn't ask the king to settle Hurog on your father?" asked Alizon, glancing up.
"Do I look stupid?" replied Erdrick indignantly. "Why would I do that? I don't want Hurog."
After Alizon left, Erdrick wiped the sweat off the back of his neck. The king's half brother was entirely too unnerving. This was absolutely the last time he took Beckram's place.
He drained his cup of wine and gathered another from a passing servant. When he finally stood up to retreat to his room, he could feel the effects of the alcohol. So instead of taking a shorter route, he walked through the courtyard gardens. The cool night air did a lot to restore his sense of balance.
Next to the library, the garden was his favorite part of the castle. The sound of the flowing water from the fountains and artificial streams reminded him of home. He smelled the petals of a flower that stood out ghostly white in the darkness. He was disappointed to find it had no scent at all.
When someone grabbed him by the shoulder, he was still thinking about flowers.
In Black Ciernack's tavern, Beckram coughed suddenly and swallowed a hefty draft to counter the sudden pain in his throat. It worried him for a moment, but when it dispersed so quickly, he decided it must have been just a muscle cramp. Beckram turned his attention back to the dancer who was in the process of sheathing her sword in a way no man ever could.
Jakoven jumped back from the spray of blood, waiting for the writhing body to grow still. He licked a drop of the dark liquid dripping from his knife, then threw it on the ground beside the boy. The knife wasn't distinctive, though that didn't matter. Everyone would know who'd done it.
"No more lovers for my lady queen," he said out loud. He nudged the body with his toe, but the boy didn't move. The high king stared at the pale face. "Not even a stupid Shavig boy was safe enough. So, Beckram, what do you think? Should she commit suicide when she hears of your death? Or should she choose to sequester herself at one of my country estates? Not much help, are you? Never mind, I'll decide tomorrow."
In the shadows, Alizon, who'd arrived just a moment too late, clenched his fists and thought, Too many bodies, Jakoven.
Beckram whistled cheerfully as he changed his clothes. The sword dancer had been as good as she was touted and more. He might have stayed longer, but some niggling worry about his brother sent him home early. Maybe it was just guilt at making Erdrick take his place again.
He popped open the door to his twin's room and found it empty. It was later than Erdrick usually stayed out, but the festivities would last until dawn.
"Well, brother mine, did you seduce some lass? Got to be careful with that, wouldn't want the queen jealous..." He stopped talking when another thought crossed his mind. "No, you wouldn't, would you? Not with the queen." Maybe, he thought, that was the source of his restlessness tonight.
He glanced down at himself to make sure his clothes were something Erdrick would wear and pulled the yellow scarf off his knee. Then, slouching a little, Beckram paced down the hall.
There were a lot of people still in the court hall, so it took Beckram a long time to see that Erdrick wasn't there. When he saw the queen gossiping with one of her ladies, he relaxed. Not that he'd believed his brother could betray him, not really. "Erdrick?"
He was better at being Erdrick than Erdrick was at being him. Beckram didn't even hesitate in responding to his brother's name. "Lord Alizon?"
The older man looked tired. "You don't usually come to the dances, Erdrick."
Beckram gave his brother's soft, half-embarrassed laugh. "Well, I'm looking for Beckram. He borrowed one of my books to press a crease out of a scarf, and now I can't find it anywhere."