Duncan took hold of his arm, saying gently, "Let's go, Colin."
He raised his eyes to his brother's and nodded, then took a cautious step forward only to find himself wavering on legs that suddenly didn't belong to him. Duncan's grip tightened and Colin grabbed his brother's other arm for support until the dizzy fit ended. Finally he straightened and nodded again, then headed for the open door hanging askew on broken hinges. Beyond it a sunlit stone path meandered through green grass sparkling with dew.
"Don't be surprised if he has to vomit, Duncan," Emmott called after them. "Colin, get some rest – get well. Report in next week."
Emmott's parting words stirred his ire but it only raised its head to growl feebly before turning over and going back to sleep. He didn't even have the strength to acknowledge he'd heard Emmott's advice.
After a bit the exercise did make him feel better and it wasn't too long before he felt well enough to walk on his own. The sunlight was a soothing warmth on his shoulders but the breeze still held the night's chill. No sooner had they passed through the opening in the stone wall surrounding the mage quarter than the thick smell of the canals had Colin's stomach churning. He leaned against the warm stones, gagging and spitting, his guts twisting in agony.
"Listen to me, Colin," Duncan said as he laid his hand on Colin's shoulder. "Don't think about it." Duncan gently shook him and Colin, sickened by the motion, straightened with both hands clenched. Duncan backed away, grinning.
After a half-hearted glare at his brother, Colin turned away and spat. "Damn Emmott, that knows-it-all."
"Of course he'd know a few more things," Duncan said. "He took in more schooling than we did, is all. Can't fault a person for doing what they like. On the other hand – how long do you think he'd last against you, one on one? No use in raging over him being smarter. Just like there's no use in fighting a brother bigger and meaner than you."
Colin looked up to meet his brother's smiling face. "Ah well, I do feel a bit sorry over that, Mri," he said, using Duncan's self-made baby name.
"Now there's something new!" Duncan snorted.
"You can shut that," Colin growled. "Now I know I've said my sorrys a time or two!"
Duncan laughed. "I'm sure of it. The time and place escapes me at the moment, is all."
Colin tapped him in the shoulder with his fist and then grabbed him in a quick one armed hug before they continued on to their parents' house.
Mother must have been waiting at the window, watching for them to come home. Colin wondered with a touch of bitterness which of the old biddies she called friend had run to her with the news. The gods help the tattletale if he ever find out who had told her. She opened the door before they had stepped over the curb to the stoop and merely nodded to them as she backed out of their way so they could enter the house.
"Is that you Colin?" the old man yelled from a back room. "What's this I hear about war breaking out in heaven?"
James Matthew MacCoinnick stopped in the hall doorway and straightened, the cane idle in his hand as if it were just for show. "Certainly can tell who was the losing side," he said as he sized up his oldest son with a tight lipped sneer on his face. In the answering silence he lurched past them to take his seat by the fire.
Mother pulled Colin into the room he had once shared with Duncan. "There's some of your old clothes in the bottom of the chifforobe and there's fresh water in the pitcher." She turned and then stopped at the door. "Don't mind your da. Things will work out, son." Before he could make an answer she had closed the door behind her.
He sat on the edge of his old bed and cradled his head in his hands. He was at the bottom of a pit he was never going to crawl free of. How could he have loved a woman who had had the balls to kiss him one moment and then in the next poison him nearly to death? He was just that stupid, that's why.
