“These ones too!”

  Val lifted her chin to let Dorius tuck another two volumes under her stumpy chin horns, she had to duck slightly to let him reach. Her braids were tied into a black bun at the nap of her neck, the lines weaving around the two short horns on her head that had grown too large to hide any longer. She wore scraps of a grown-man's leather armor where they had been modified to fit her, and simple, slightly threadbare clothes that were neatly tailored. The pile of books was so tall her arms were fully stretched trying to balance them. The younger silver-haired boy moved through his family's library with a practiced familiarity, fingers running along the spines of books as he worked. He picked up another one and opened it to page through the chapters.

  “Wouldn’t you rather books with more pictures?” she asked him gently, her eyes glazing over as she looked over his shoulder at the volume he was flicking through. There were far too many words for her to even know where to start.

  “There is nothing useful in books with pictures, Val, except maps. Maps are useful pictures. Oh and those ones with drawings of flowers.”

  Val hummed, and glanced sideways out the window to assess the time. “What are you reading about?” she asked.

  “I’m trying to find books of the Free States to the south. Elias said if I wanted to encourage the Guild to try something new I should assemble my ideas in an essay so I can organize them for others,” Dorius stopped on a page that caught his interest, running his finger along the words as he silently read, then put the book back. His robes were made from fine fabrics, but the colors of the dyes had faded with age and a few of the seams betrayed they had been modified from other clothing. The belt was a simple sash tied in a thick knot.

  “Sounds dull,” commented Val.

  “Elias says my Mother used to love to write. That she would read a book a day and keep her thoughts written down while they were fresh, so she could read them again later and remember all the details. Elias says my Mother had a memory like a steel trap,” Dorius moved to the next bookcase continuing his search.

  Val glanced out the window again. Dorius picked up another volume. There was a moment of silence.

  “How long till I will see you again?” he asked.

  Val shrugged the pile of books. “I don’t know,” she replied.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “Are you scared?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You’re not scared of bandits? Or wild Fae?”

  “Not as scared as I am of the men when Hart has no work for them,” admitted Val.

  Dorius fidgeted with a ring on his right hand, twisting it loosely around his right index finger. “I wish you didn’t have to work. Elias says the Pentarch stopped paying my allowance when Father died. He says he writes to ask like Father did, but my Uncle won’t listen. If I had money, I’d pay you. Then you wouldn’t have to go, and you could stay here and learn to read too!”

  “I don’t want to read, Bastian says it’s boring. What would you pay me to do?”

  “You could be my bodyguard. And Bastian too. If I had money, I’d employ everyone. I’d have ten, no… twenty servants. And a horse, and a big carriage covered in gold dragons. And I’d buy fancy uniforms for the whole Company, make Father proud,” Dorius counted his ideas against his fingers as he spoke, eyes gleaming with enthusiasm, and began to walk out of the library back to the study.

  “Sounds like a lot of money,” said Val skeptically as she followed.

  Obediently Val deposited the book pile on the study desk for Dorius, it was scattered with papers and hand written notes. The only toy was a hand carved wooden horse figurine which stood proudly on one corner as a treasured decoration.

  “Val? You in here?” Both Val and Dorius raised their heads to the doorway, Hart pausing with his hand on the frame when he saw Dorius as well, “Young Sir, Valina will need to leave you now.”

  Val lingered a moment, restacking the book pile for better balance.

  “Where are you going?” asked Dorius with the confidence of a much older boy, taking a seat at his desk.

  Hart dipped his head respectfully, “South west, along the Artifar to Kimlet. We’re escorting a merchant convoy there.”

  “Can Val stay?”

  Val didn’t dare look up at the younger boy, but felt her heart jump with hope for a moment.

  “The Company needs her strength and the extra body she adds. We’re barely bringing in enough to keep everyone paid, let alone having anything left to keep the estate cared for,” replied Hart grimly, “I know you’d prefer if she could stay young Sir. Sebastian will be about soon, once he’s released from his archery practice.”

  Dorius opened one of his books, but looked grimly at the page instead of reading.

  “You’re dismissed then. Good luck.”

  Val let her hand slip off the book pile, and solemnly turned to follow her guardian from the room. Hart patted her on the shoulder as he let her pass, she was already taller than him if you counted her horns.

  “We’ll be back soon enough,” reassured Hart, and shut the door behind him.