Kared's Children - Chapter 13

They looked at their friend; he was talking to Morgan, his back to them, his form in silhouette from the fire. The two had talked somewhat extensively on their trip. And with Karec-who was nowhere to be seen.

"I don’t know how he does it," Piskin said.

"He’s just himself."

"He attracts these people."

"None like these." Raven tightened the lid of the tiny jar of wax. "But he did attract us."

Piskin slid the stiletto into its sheath. "I don’t have to tell you." He looked at his brother.

"No." Raven looked back.

They sat in silence while the others talked.

"I don’t know what’s going to happen," Raven said.

"Me either."

They watched the fire.

. . .

Dox showed Morgan a simple knot. "This is the way to ensure your pack won’t come off."

Morgan took the rope from Dox’s big hands. "Let me show you." He looped an end deftly. "Now," he said, offering it back to Dox. "Pull on this, here."

Dox pulled. Nothing happened.

"But if you pull the other end-" Morgan demonstrated. The rope unknotted easily.

"Remarkable," Dox said. "Show me again?"

Morgan beamed. "I learned it from a book on Ancient Soldiery."

Shaerden and Gerald, who’d been watching, exchanged looks.

"‘Ancient Soldiery,’" Gerald said. "That’s one of your favorites, isn’t it, Shaer?"

Morgan looked up from the loop of rope. "You’ve heard of it?"

"He keeps it by his bedside."

"I was especially impressed by its sections on tactics."

"He’s kidding," Shaerden said. They were sitting beside the fire, which wasn’t necessary for its heat.

"Shaerden hates to read," Gerald said. "You’d think it caused him physical pain."

"It’s not as though I don’t know how," Shaerden said.

"I wonder," Gerald teased.

Morgan clearly was disappointed. "You haven’t read it?"

"It was a joke," Gerald said. "I’m sorry."

"It’s all right." Morgan took the rope again from Dox and demonstrated the knot once more. "Though as our King, you might be interested in what it has to say."

"That’s a good idea," Shaerden said. "Why don’t you loan it to the royal library when we get back?" He grinned at Gerald. "The two of you can discuss its finer aspects."

"Let them play their games, Morgan Stonen," Dox rumbled. "I for one am a quite-interested student."

"Dox is my strategist," Gerald said. "He can report to me on what you teach him."

"You really should read the book," Morgan said to Dox. "If I can find it."

"I’ll gladly read it," Dox promised. "When we get back."

Morgan smiled happily while Shaerden chuckled, and the two bent back to the lesson. Even seated, Dox towered above the Historian. With his armor off, Dox still was bulkier than two men, large, but graceful and gentle.

Morgan hadn’t removed his jerkin.

Between the King, Gerald, his friend, and Morgan and Dox, Shaerden rested calmly, lightly, like Gerald alert to everything that went on around him but engaged by none of it, much the way they would have been had they been sitting at their table in Roethke’s, observers of much, but participants only in what they chose. Dox tried the knot again, but it didn’t work. Morgan patiently demonstrated it again; it was an incongruous sight, the two of them, the huge man following so eagerly the deft movements of the smaller. But they talked happily, immersed in their interests, while Gerald and Shaerden watched.