Brenen sat out on the balcony railing, dangling his legs down over the side, a beam of fall sunshine in his hair. He licked the last of the sticky honey candy from his fingers and looked at Mykar with a satisfied sigh.
Mykar barely glanced up from the pages of his book. Brenen frowned.
"You make great company," he grumbled.
"Thank you," said Mykar primly.
"Hey! Look!" Brenen exclaimed, leaning forward and endangering his possibility of falling from the falling to the ground below. The balcony looked out over the river, sticking out from the palace to the left of the great doors and the bridge.
Mykar glanced up and saw an elf crossing the bridge, dressed in a dark leather tunic and even darker colored leggings. His stride was firm and his arms swung at his side.
"Galleon!" the guards greeted him. "We have not seen you since the last order of lumber; no one cuts it finer then you!"
"Enough time has passed since then," Galleon agreed. "It was quite a turn to hear Prince Legolas had burned down his room and more wood was needed to repair it."
The guards exchanged grins. "What business do you have here today?"
"I need to see the healers," Galleon said.
One guard held up a hand. "Wait; let me guess . . . Either Zionel has buried the axe in his leg again or Ilune has fallen on her face."
Galleon grinned as he hurried past but did not present the reason for seeing the healers.
Mykar grabbed Brenen's robe and jerked him back as Brenen swayed and came close to falling. Undaunted, Brenen slid off the railing and announced as he jogged to the door, "I am following Galleon! Come on!"
He jerked Mykar along by the wrist as he ran, too excited at the prospect of shadowing Galleon to notice Mykar was stumbling after him, his nose still in his book.
"Ada will punish us if he finds out we are spying on a conversation conducted privately between a civilian and a professional healer," Mykar whined as he finally closed his book and realized what Brenen was doing.
"So what?" Brenen said.
"I do not like being punished," Mykar complained. "He takes away my books."
"They should be taken away more often," Brenen said. "You can flee but I want to test my shadowing skills. I have been out in the woods practicing and practicing my stalking and now I want to see how good it is!"
"Humph!" said Mykar but he made no move to turn around.
Brenen came to a halt in the corner beside the door to the head healer's office. It was open and he pricked up his ears, straining to hear the conversation inside.
"—Express my concern in the matter." That was Galleon.
"And I thank you for coming to me," replied the head of the healing wing, her voice cool and calming. "We have been worried about his condition for a while now."
Rot, thought Brenen. All this way and we get to listen to the condition of a patient! How boring.
"We feared he may be dead," the head continued and Brenen's ears pricked up. "The King and Queen have been as worried as we were. My relief is great to know he is safe and recovered from his sickness."
"We noticed he was weak from the start," Galleon said. "The fever nearly killed him."
"Your wife, Anialia, could have been a great healer," said the head. "She showed great promise. She is better, even, then me. But I respected my daughter's choice to marry you."
"And she never regretted it," Galleon said.
"I will talk with the King about the situation you have brought to my attention," the head said. "Before I reach out to you with an answer. Most likely, he will be brought back here as soon as he is strong enough to be moved without risk. Until then, I ask you to keep him."
"It would be our pleasure," Galleon replied. "Thank you. But before I leave, I cannot help but ask . . ."
"No doubt you express concern over his bruises," the head said. "They are many months old, collected over years of abuse. I do not like to speak for Web so I will only say the person responsible no longer has access or rights to him."
"He is an orphan," Galleon said softly.
"Regretfully, yes. As you know, we let orphans wander the wood in hopes they will chance upon a family to love them. And after several years in the event they are not so lucky, they enter into the apprenticeship of one of the Tradesmasters. It is not a common occurrence for an orphan to be alone all their lives and I pray it is not the fate Web will have. He deserves a lot more for what he has suffered."
"Indeed. I must be on my way now, Malian. You know where to find me."
Brenen heard footsteps as Galleon crossed the office room but he was long gone, jerking Mykar along behind him as he fled toward Thranduil's office. Several guards looked at him with interest as he passed. The office was empty so he rushed to the family dining room, blundering into the room, crashing into Cinwe and yelling as he tripped to the floor and sat down hard on Cinwe's stomach, "Web is alive!"
"Oof!" said Cinwe with a grunt. "I was looking for you; you are late to lunch!"
"Sorry," said Brenen. He jumped to his feet and waved his arms. "But Web is alive!"
"We heard you the first time, ion," Thranduil said. He, Legolas, Realn, Raileen, and Ellhamier were sitting around the table, evidently waiting for the food to be uncovered.
Brenen scrambled into his seat with a quick hand over his hair to smoothen it. Mykar sat down in silence, nudging his book under the table with his boot before Thranduil could see it. Cinwe sat down and said, "Well!"
"Where did you hear about Web?" Legolas asked with interest.
"We were in the healing wing," Brenen explained.
Mykar squirmed. In the healing wing was not exactly a lie, was it? He did so hate withholding truths from his parents; it made him feel queer and every look they gave him while he knew something untold made him feel as though he were tied in knots.
"Is something bothering you?" Cinwe asked.
"We were—err-passing by the Head's office," Mykar volunteered, blushing as Brenen scowled at him. "And we heard something of interest so we stopped to listen."
"You were eavesdropping," Thranduil said with a frown.
"No," said Brenen.
"Brenen!" Cinwe exclaimed.
Brenen looked at her earnestly. "But it is true. We were not eavesdropping; there were no eaves."
Ellhamier, the butter dish in hand, dropped it as he exploded into a loud fit of chuckles. Raileen rescued the butter dish with a soft pillow of air that carried it to safe ground. Thranduil dropped his forehead onto his hand with a small groan.
"All right," he said. "You were spying. Hiding and listening to something you were not supposed to hear."
"But that is not true either," Brenen said, urged on by Ellhamier's chuckles. "We were not hiding. Anyone could have seen us if they looked through the crack of the door. And if we were not meant to hear, the door would have been closed properly."
"Does no one care we found out where Web is even if we were spying?" Mykar asked loudly.
"Of course we care," Thranduil said. "But—"
"But we have got to be punished," Mykar said, managing to keep a straight face.
"It does not take much wisdom to know that," Cinwe said. "And as soon as lunch is over, I am taking away every book in your room! You can help me with fall cleaning straight off!"
Mykar rose to his feet and snapped to attention. He bowed deeply in the direction of a suspicious Thranduil and said, "Ada, it is with solemnness I request to name my punishment."
Cinwe blinked. "And no doubt it will be a bowl of ice cream. Nothing doing. Sit back down."
Thranduil waved his wife away. "Very well, Mykar. I am listening."
"As my punishment, I respectfully request the horrors of cleaning out the mess of your office," Mykar said.
"Are you out of your mind?" Brenen demanded, making spirals by the side of his head. "That is an awful job! I had to do it once and it was sheer torture!"
Mykar ignored Brenen. Cinwe forked down a mouthful of meat with a smirk as she eyed her husband. "Well, Thrandy, dear, how can you argue with that?"
"Very well," Thranduil said. "You can start after lunch, Mykar. I assume you know how?"
"Yes, ada. Please excuse me for one minute?"
Mykar slipped out into the hall but even there his shriek of "YES!" could be heard long and clear. He reentered the room; hands folded, face a peaceful expression of serenity and seated himself, not seeming to notice the frozen expressions of the people sitting around him.
After lunch Thranduil took Mykar down to his office and left his son to do his work. He came back to the dining room to see Cinwe down on her hands and knees, peering under the long tablecloth by Mykar's chair. She came up with a huge volume in her hand and her lips pursed.
"That son of ours," she said, as she held up the Office Work manual. "He has just reached the chapter dealing with organization."
"That explains his sudden desire to clean my office," Thranduil said. He noticed his three other sons had already left the room in the company of Ellhamier.
"Hir nin?"
Thranduil turned around. "Ah, Head Malian. Come in."
"It is about Web," the woman said, her white robes swishing as she dipped a quick courtesy. "He is with Galleon, the woodcutter, and his family, recovering from a terrible case of fever. I thought he could stay there until he is strong enough to be moved without risk. I am sending Healer Helix down to the house in a few minutes to assess Web's condition and I thought it best to inform you in person. Forgive me for intruding at this time."
"Not at all," Thranduil said. "Thank you."