He had not raised his voice, nor altered its gentle modulations. But the unseen observer in the back room shivered and scrunched together on his stool, thankful that he wasn’t the one shriveling in the heat of the old man’s ire.
Haplo knew he had displeased his lord. He recalled a time of punishment. His hand went instinctively to the name-rune tattooed over his heart—the root and source of all his magical power, the starting of the circle.
Xar leaned forward, suddenly, laid his hand over Haplo’s, laid his gnarled old hand over Haplo’s heart.
The Patryn flinched, drew in a quick breath, but otherwise held still. The unseen observer ground his teeth. Much as he was gleefully enjoying Haplo’s downfall, the observer was also bitterly jealous of Haplo’s obvious closeness to his lord—a closeness the observer could never hope to share.
“Forgive me, Father,” Haplo said simply, speaking with dignity, out of sincere contrition, not out of fear. “I will not fail you. What is your command?”
“You will escort the child Bane to Arianus. Once there, you will assist him in the operation of the Kicksey-winsey. You will do whatever else you need to do in order to foment chaos and turmoil in the world. That should be easy. This dwarven leader, this Limbeck, likes and trusts you, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, Lord.” Haplo had not stirred beneath the lord’s touch on his heart. “And when that is accomplished?”
“You will wait on Arianus for my instructions.”
Haplo nodded in silent acquiescence.
Xar held him a moment longer, feeling Haplo’s life beating beneath his fingers, knowing he could end that life in a second, if he chose; knowing that Haplo knew it, as well.
Haplo gave a great, shuddering sigh, bowed his head.
The lord pressed him close. “My son. My poor troubled son. You bear my touch with such courage …”
Haplo lifted his head. His face was flushed, he spoke savagely. “Because, my lord, there is no pain you or anyone could inflict on me worse than the pain I bear within myself.”
Wrenching free of the lord’s hold, Haplo walked abruptly from the room, from his lord’s presence. The dog jumped to its feet, hurried after him, paws pattering quietly across the floor. There came the sound of a door slamming shut.
Xar stared after him, not greatly pleased. “I grow tired of these doubts, this whining. You will have one more chance to prove yourself loyal…”
The observer left his stool, slid out into the room, which was now dark with shadows. The fire had almost completely died.
“He didn’t ask leave to go, Grandfather,” noted the observer in a shrill voice. “Why didn’t you stop him? I would have had him whipped.”
Xar glanced about. He was not startled at the child’s presence, or by the fact that he’d been listening. Xar was even somewhat amused at the vehemence in the tone.
“Would you, Bane?” Xar asked, smiling at the boy fondly, reaching out a hand to ruffle the fair hair. “Remember something, child. Love breaks a heart. Hatred strengthens it. I want Haplo broken, contrite, repentant.”
“But Haplo doesn’t love you, Grandfather,” cried Bane, not completely understanding. He crowded close to the old man, looking up at him with adoring eyes. “I’m the only one who loves you. And I’ll prove it. I will!”
“Will you, Bane?” Xar patted the boy approvingly, caressed him fondly.
A Patryn child would have never been encouraged to feel such affection, much less permitted to reveal it. But Xar had taken a fancy to the human child. Having lived a solitary life, the lord enjoyed the boy’s company, enjoyed teaching him. Bane was bright, intelligent, and extraordinarily skilled in magic—for a mensch. Besides all this, the Lord of the Nexus found it rather pleasant to be worshiped.
“Are we going to study the Sartan runes tonight, Grandfather?” Bane asked eagerly. “I learned some new ones. I can make them work. I’ll show you…”
“No, child.” Xar withdrew his hand from the boy’s head, his body from the child’s clinging grasp. “I am weary. And there is study I must undertake before I journey to Abarrach. You run along and play.”