Part Ten:
Sprawled upon the tiled floor of what the Gondorians called a side room, Estev narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the left. Then back to the right to look intently at Jesse laying curled asleep upon a small rug before a large cushioned chair.
"You've got his ears all wrong," he said sliding the drawing back across the floor.
"Uh-huh," replied Rolfe patiently. He studied the sketch, then made a short stroke with his charcoal to indicate the muscles of the animal's forelegs.
Running a hand through his hair, Estev rolled over and stared at the ceiling. Tapping his fingers on his chest in time to the rain pattering on the windows, he asked, "I wonder when Father will be back. Sarantha said after dinner. That was an hour ago."
"Hold still," Rolfe said.
Estev sighed. He hated when Rolfe drew a picture of him. It always ended up with big ears or odd sized eyes, and being told 'sit still' made his nose itch. Carefully he slid the hand on the side away from Rolfe toward his face.
"Be still."
"I can't," Estev groaned.
"You just think you can't."
"I told you before to stop that."
"Stop what?"
"Being bossy."
"I'm not being bossy," insisted Rolfe.
"Yes, you are."
"No, I'm not."
Estev smirked, then repeated, "Yes, you are."
"All right, I am. Now, sit still."
Rolfe's mouth twisted up in the corner as he concentrated, and Estev rolled his eyes and tried not to think about his nose. First, he counted to one hundred in Rohirric, then in the Common Tongue. For good measure he tried it in Elvish but got only as far as thirty-six because he couldn't remember if he should count it as six sixes or three twelves. Given that it was Elvish, it was probably both.
"Are you done yet?"
"No."
Sighing, Estev flexed the muscles of his back. A stone floor got harder the longer you lay on it, but at least it was clean. Or it better be. He had already taken one bath today because Sarantha had refused to allow either boy to sit at the table until they bathed. She'd even checked their necks and ears afterward. Estev snorted. There was nothing wrong with a little dirt. Besides with this rain, he was bound to get all muddy tomorrow.
The rain, which had been falling in spits and spurts since late afternoon, might prove to be a blessing. It had driven them from the fields today, but perhaps it would reveal something of importance on the morrow. Little of worth had been found for the past three days though all six boys had worked steadily. Another medallion had been unearthed, several well preserved spear and arrow points, and a tarnished silver chain, but nothing approaching the magnificence of the knife. At the thought of the blade, Estev grimaced.
"Stop that," chided Rolfe, and Estev muttered, "Sorry."
The nmad knife. Almost, he wished he'd never found the thing. Careful to let only his eyeballs move, he flicked a glance at his foster brother. What would Rolfe say if it was discovered that every morning he took the blade from the chest where it was hidden and tucked it inside his shirt to carry with him all day long?
During the evenings after he had returned the knife to its hiding place, he often found his hand seeking for the solid reassurance of the lump beneath his shirt. He could not understand what was going on; but whenever he unwrapped the blade and held it up to see, the serpent writhed in the light. Once or twice he had even thought he heard it hissing.
No one else seemed to see or hear anything. When Karston and Curthan had been shown the blade, they commented on its rippled edges and the twisted copper and iron wires placed along the handle, but never upon the coiling and uncoiling serpent. It had to be just his imagination. And why did he find it so difficult to leave the knife in the chest? The others would think he was trying to take it for himself if they found out he carried it with him each day.
'And why shouldn't I? I found it. It should be mine.'
"No!"
Estev's exclamation brought both dogs to their feet searching for the cause of alarm. Seeing nothing threatening their masters, they whined inquiringly and nudged the boys with their noses.
"No what?" Rolfe set aside his sketching to rub Dog's ears soothingly. "If you didn't want your picture done, all you had to do was say so."
"It's not that," Estev stammered, his fingers clutched at Jesse until the dog whimpered. Apologizing to the animal, he clasped his hands together and frowned.
"Then what?"
"Nothing"
Rolfe's mouth tightened with annoyance. 'Nothing' had been Estev's response ever since he had found that knife, and trying to force him to talk only caused him to storm away. But what else could be done but attempt to find out what was bothering his friend?
"If it's the rain, it won't last the night."
"It's not the rain," mumbled Estev picking at his thumbnail.
"What then? Two more days and we'll be finished clearing that field. Harlan will have his grazing rights."
Estev snorted with derision. "Not to mention a fine profit."
"Is that what's bothering you? That Harlan gets a share."
Ferlan's brother had been to the field twice to check on their progress. With blank faced innocence, and perfect honesty, the boys had pointed at the barrow loaded with odds and ends and voiced their own disappointment over not discovering anything of greater value that day.
"No," Estev said firmly. "That was the bargain. And I will keep it."
Rolfe's eyes narrowed at the force behind those words. Was Estev trying to convince himself?
"Of course."
The mildness of the reply released much of the tightness within Estev's chest. If Rolfe did not doubt him, perhaps there was no reason to doubt himself. He ruffled Jesse's fur and said, "What plan have you and Shaymur come up with for selling the medallions?"
Leaning against Dog's solid bulk, Rolfe frowned. "The perfect person to ask to help us would be Esiwmas."
Estev shook his head slowly. His father had given his approval for their daily expeditions to the fields. After they had served their punishment for failing to appear when promised, he had gone so far as to release them from noon chores at the stable yard. He had even listened politely to their tales. But not once had the trader asked to see any of the objects. There was little chance that he would help them to sell any of the relics they had found.
Rolfe nodded his agreement. "But since that's not possible, Shaymur and I decided we should ask Master Gemthir."
"Gemthir?"
"Why not? He knows lots of people, and he might even be able to read the runes on the medallions and on that dagger."
Chewing his lip, Estev considered the suggestion. "You think so?"
"There's no harm in asking. At the least, maybe he can tell us who else to talk to."
"All right. When?"
"We were thinking about tomorrow evening, before dinner. There's not that much left to do out here. We can stop early and go up to see him."
"Good idea. Is everyone to go?"
Rolfe shrugged. "I'm not sure. I was planning on asking Master Gemthir tomorrow morning if he would meet with us, and then seeing who could go with me. Shaymur should be there."
Estev nodded. Shaymur was the oldest and always took the lead, though lately he had deferred more than one decision to Rolfe. With a sigh, Estev wondered why everything had to always change. By the end of summer, both Shaymur and Karston would be old enough to sign as apprentices to some master. Curthan would follow soon after that. Thank goodness that was not to be his fate. He would learn to manage the holding in Rohan and raise horses. Esdav would take over the trading part of the family. Or maybe Rolfe could do that? But that was all in too far in the future to be worrying now.
Estev pushed Jesse's head off his knee and stood. "I've got to finish that lesson Master Gemthir set me to copying."
With Jesse at his heels, the boy hastened out of the room without another word. Rolfe gathered up his charcoal and papers and tucked them away into a thin leather satchel with the family's crest imprinted on the strap. It had been a Yule gift from Esiwmas and housed all of his best drawings.
Studying the sketch he had made of Estev, he wondered if it were possible to show the changes in his foster brother's behavior with a drawing. Maybe if he had more talent, he could; as it was, the boy in the picture looked the same as always. Snub nosed with ears that stuck out, a fact that Estev hotly denied. There was no evidence of the sudden shifts in mood or the distance the boy had put between himself and his friends during the past ten days. The others were worried too, but not one of them knew what to do. As soon as the field was cleared and all those relics sold, especially that knife, maybe Estev would return to normal. If not, Rolfe decided he would have to go to Esiwmas.
Fastening the buckle on the satchel and setting it on shelf near the door, he said, "Come on, Dog. Let's go see if Sarantha has anything leftover from dinner."
Sprawled upon the tiled floor of what the Gondorians called a side room, Estev narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the left. Then back to the right to look intently at Jesse laying curled asleep upon a small rug before a large cushioned chair.
"You've got his ears all wrong," he said sliding the drawing back across the floor.
"Uh-huh," replied Rolfe patiently. He studied the sketch, then made a short stroke with his charcoal to indicate the muscles of the animal's forelegs.
Running a hand through his hair, Estev rolled over and stared at the ceiling. Tapping his fingers on his chest in time to the rain pattering on the windows, he asked, "I wonder when Father will be back. Sarantha said after dinner. That was an hour ago."
"Hold still," Rolfe said.
Estev sighed. He hated when Rolfe drew a picture of him. It always ended up with big ears or odd sized eyes, and being told 'sit still' made his nose itch. Carefully he slid the hand on the side away from Rolfe toward his face.
"Be still."
"I can't," Estev groaned.
"You just think you can't."
"I told you before to stop that."
"Stop what?"
"Being bossy."
"I'm not being bossy," insisted Rolfe.
"Yes, you are."
"No, I'm not."
Estev smirked, then repeated, "Yes, you are."
"All right, I am. Now, sit still."
Rolfe's mouth twisted up in the corner as he concentrated, and Estev rolled his eyes and tried not to think about his nose. First, he counted to one hundred in Rohirric, then in the Common Tongue. For good measure he tried it in Elvish but got only as far as thirty-six because he couldn't remember if he should count it as six sixes or three twelves. Given that it was Elvish, it was probably both.
"Are you done yet?"
"No."
Sighing, Estev flexed the muscles of his back. A stone floor got harder the longer you lay on it, but at least it was clean. Or it better be. He had already taken one bath today because Sarantha had refused to allow either boy to sit at the table until they bathed. She'd even checked their necks and ears afterward. Estev snorted. There was nothing wrong with a little dirt. Besides with this rain, he was bound to get all muddy tomorrow.
The rain, which had been falling in spits and spurts since late afternoon, might prove to be a blessing. It had driven them from the fields today, but perhaps it would reveal something of importance on the morrow. Little of worth had been found for the past three days though all six boys had worked steadily. Another medallion had been unearthed, several well preserved spear and arrow points, and a tarnished silver chain, but nothing approaching the magnificence of the knife. At the thought of the blade, Estev grimaced.
"Stop that," chided Rolfe, and Estev muttered, "Sorry."
The nmad knife. Almost, he wished he'd never found the thing. Careful to let only his eyeballs move, he flicked a glance at his foster brother. What would Rolfe say if it was discovered that every morning he took the blade from the chest where it was hidden and tucked it inside his shirt to carry with him all day long?
During the evenings after he had returned the knife to its hiding place, he often found his hand seeking for the solid reassurance of the lump beneath his shirt. He could not understand what was going on; but whenever he unwrapped the blade and held it up to see, the serpent writhed in the light. Once or twice he had even thought he heard it hissing.
No one else seemed to see or hear anything. When Karston and Curthan had been shown the blade, they commented on its rippled edges and the twisted copper and iron wires placed along the handle, but never upon the coiling and uncoiling serpent. It had to be just his imagination. And why did he find it so difficult to leave the knife in the chest? The others would think he was trying to take it for himself if they found out he carried it with him each day.
'And why shouldn't I? I found it. It should be mine.'
"No!"
Estev's exclamation brought both dogs to their feet searching for the cause of alarm. Seeing nothing threatening their masters, they whined inquiringly and nudged the boys with their noses.
"No what?" Rolfe set aside his sketching to rub Dog's ears soothingly. "If you didn't want your picture done, all you had to do was say so."
"It's not that," Estev stammered, his fingers clutched at Jesse until the dog whimpered. Apologizing to the animal, he clasped his hands together and frowned.
"Then what?"
"Nothing"
Rolfe's mouth tightened with annoyance. 'Nothing' had been Estev's response ever since he had found that knife, and trying to force him to talk only caused him to storm away. But what else could be done but attempt to find out what was bothering his friend?
"If it's the rain, it won't last the night."
"It's not the rain," mumbled Estev picking at his thumbnail.
"What then? Two more days and we'll be finished clearing that field. Harlan will have his grazing rights."
Estev snorted with derision. "Not to mention a fine profit."
"Is that what's bothering you? That Harlan gets a share."
Ferlan's brother had been to the field twice to check on their progress. With blank faced innocence, and perfect honesty, the boys had pointed at the barrow loaded with odds and ends and voiced their own disappointment over not discovering anything of greater value that day.
"No," Estev said firmly. "That was the bargain. And I will keep it."
Rolfe's eyes narrowed at the force behind those words. Was Estev trying to convince himself?
"Of course."
The mildness of the reply released much of the tightness within Estev's chest. If Rolfe did not doubt him, perhaps there was no reason to doubt himself. He ruffled Jesse's fur and said, "What plan have you and Shaymur come up with for selling the medallions?"
Leaning against Dog's solid bulk, Rolfe frowned. "The perfect person to ask to help us would be Esiwmas."
Estev shook his head slowly. His father had given his approval for their daily expeditions to the fields. After they had served their punishment for failing to appear when promised, he had gone so far as to release them from noon chores at the stable yard. He had even listened politely to their tales. But not once had the trader asked to see any of the objects. There was little chance that he would help them to sell any of the relics they had found.
Rolfe nodded his agreement. "But since that's not possible, Shaymur and I decided we should ask Master Gemthir."
"Gemthir?"
"Why not? He knows lots of people, and he might even be able to read the runes on the medallions and on that dagger."
Chewing his lip, Estev considered the suggestion. "You think so?"
"There's no harm in asking. At the least, maybe he can tell us who else to talk to."
"All right. When?"
"We were thinking about tomorrow evening, before dinner. There's not that much left to do out here. We can stop early and go up to see him."
"Good idea. Is everyone to go?"
Rolfe shrugged. "I'm not sure. I was planning on asking Master Gemthir tomorrow morning if he would meet with us, and then seeing who could go with me. Shaymur should be there."
Estev nodded. Shaymur was the oldest and always took the lead, though lately he had deferred more than one decision to Rolfe. With a sigh, Estev wondered why everything had to always change. By the end of summer, both Shaymur and Karston would be old enough to sign as apprentices to some master. Curthan would follow soon after that. Thank goodness that was not to be his fate. He would learn to manage the holding in Rohan and raise horses. Esdav would take over the trading part of the family. Or maybe Rolfe could do that? But that was all in too far in the future to be worrying now.
Estev pushed Jesse's head off his knee and stood. "I've got to finish that lesson Master Gemthir set me to copying."
With Jesse at his heels, the boy hastened out of the room without another word. Rolfe gathered up his charcoal and papers and tucked them away into a thin leather satchel with the family's crest imprinted on the strap. It had been a Yule gift from Esiwmas and housed all of his best drawings.
Studying the sketch he had made of Estev, he wondered if it were possible to show the changes in his foster brother's behavior with a drawing. Maybe if he had more talent, he could; as it was, the boy in the picture looked the same as always. Snub nosed with ears that stuck out, a fact that Estev hotly denied. There was no evidence of the sudden shifts in mood or the distance the boy had put between himself and his friends during the past ten days. The others were worried too, but not one of them knew what to do. As soon as the field was cleared and all those relics sold, especially that knife, maybe Estev would return to normal. If not, Rolfe decided he would have to go to Esiwmas.
Fastening the buckle on the satchel and setting it on shelf near the door, he said, "Come on, Dog. Let's go see if Sarantha has anything leftover from dinner."