“Are you all right? Should I get someone?”
“No, no, no, my dear fellow. Something I ate must have slipped down the wrong way. Foolish of me. Do forgive me for that histrionic impersonation of the Lady of the Camellias.” Seeing Ryan’s puzzled expression, he added, “A fine book, my dear Mr. Cawdor. Perhaps we can introduce it to the boy. He seems to have settled in wonderfully. His dormitory prefect said he slept well and was no trouble at all. Excellent.”
“Just looked in before I left to make sure all was all right about Dean.”
“Better than all right, I think, Mr. Cawdor. The lad is obviously bright. We have been observing him. He is the most self-sufficient eleven-year-old I think I’ve ever known in my long career as a pedagogue.”
“Not many eleven year olds have lived like Dean has. Not many chilled as many people as he has.”
“Chilled many? Oh, I see. It is a joke, Mr. Cawdor. Slightly ghoulish, and not perhaps in the very best of taste, but none the worse for that.”
Ryan realized he shouldn’t have mentioned that fact. But he was going to get away with it.
Brody was laughing, managing to smother the onset of another coughing fit.
“One thing, Mr. Brody.”
“Yes?” He paused. “If it’s the teaching of intrapersonal relationships and human hygiene, I think you can rest assured that we handle this with great sensitivity and”
“Not that. I’m heading for Leadville, then on across the tops to the next valley along, up to the head of that to Fairplay. One of my friends comes from Harmony, near there. Heard stories of trouble.”
“I fear so. We too have heard such tales. Which is why our highway was being patrolled with more than usual zeal.”
“Any details?”
“How long since your companion was in Harmony? Does he visit often?”
“She.”
“I’m sorry?”
“The particular companion we’re talking about is a lady. And she hasn’t been back for many years. Her mother lived there, but she has lost touch.”
Brody steepled his fingers. “Alas and alack! That this happens so frequently in Deathlands.” He peered out the window. “The sun seems to be showing us his merry face today.”
Ryan pressed on. “What kind of trouble was it?”
“Ah, yes. We heard of a gang of bounty hunters and general bandits. The odd part of the tale was that there were norms and muties riding together.”
“We ran into three killers on the road here from Glenwood Springs. They’d slaughtered an old man with a mule and a girl.”
Brody sighed. “And did the perps of this evil act sleep last night in the bosom of Abraham?”
“You mean did we chill them?”
“I do, indeed.”
“We did, indeed.”
“They might have been a rotten branch off that same corrupt tree, Mr. Cawdor. Take the greatest of care. We would not want our newest pupil to suddenly become an orphan.”
The two men shook hands and parted.
Ryan was shown down the corridor to where Dean waited for him.
The boy was looking out a window, across the lake. He turned and grinned at his father. “Hot pipe, Dad!”
“What is?”
“You’ve saved me from doing English grammar with old Coco Copeland. The boys reckon he’s a real bastard.”
“Watch the language, Dean, please.”
“Sony. Anyway, you’ve got to go now, haven’t you, Dad? Give my love to all the others.”
Dean was being unnaturally bright and perky, with a forced smile pasted uneasily on his face.
Ryan nodded. “I’ll do that. Remember, if there’s serious bother, a message will eventually find me and we’ll all come running.”
“Sure, sure. Thanks, Dad. But from what I seen so far, I don’t mind it too bad.”
Ryan put a hand on the boy’s shoulder, and the defenses crumbled and the floodgates opened.
It took several minutes for them both to recover some degree of self-possession and wipe their eyes and blow their noses.
“Sorry about that, Dad,” Dean muttered. “Promised myself I wasn’t going to”
“Me too, son, me too.” Ryan took a deep breath. “Right, I’m going now.”
“And I’ll go and do grammar. Then Krysty won’t have to moan at me again.” Dean’s voice trembled, and Ryan turned away quickly, opening the door into the passage.