Ginn Hale - Lord of the White Hell Book One

"If they don't?" Kiram asked.

"Then we'll have to depend on the information that you can gather here at the duke's side." Alizadeh shrugged. "It's the only way."

"He's just a boy," Rafie said with a pained frown. "And not even a Bahiim."

"The shajdi must not fall into the hands of the man on the hill." Alizadeh's expression was serious. "And to be honest I'm nearly as loathe to leave him here as you are, but he is the only one with access to the academy as well as the duke. He shouldn't be in any danger so long as the man on the hill remains focused upon the Tornesals." Alizadeh gave Rafie a reassuring smile. "And the duke certainly seems dedicated enough to Kiram's safety."

"I don't like this," Rafie replied.

"I know," Alizadeh said. "But it's vital that we keep someone close to the duke. And I don't believe we could hope to place anyone closer to him than Kiram is already."

"He's too young," Rafie insisted. Kiram wanted to argue that he was not, but held his tongue. Alizadeh already supported him, and no one else had as much experience or success convincing Rafie to change his mind.

"We don't have the luxury of being sentimental now, my love." Alizadeh caught Rafie's hand and lifted it to his lips, pressing a kiss into his palm. "You saw how Kiram fought on the tournament ground; he's plainly not a child anymore."

Rafie shook his head but offered no further argument.

Deep pride welled up in Kiram's chest. Not only was he being allowed to stay at the academy, Alizadeh was entrusting him with a mission.

"While you are at the academy you must wear the medallion I gave you at all times," Alizadeh told Kiram. "Once a week hold it over a candle flame until the lotus turns white. If something threatens you or your duke, I'll know and do what I can."

Kiram nodded but had no time to ask more of Alizadeh. Javier returned a moment later. A nervous servant followed him, carrying a tray of powdered bitters and a steaming apothecary pot which he deposited on the bedside table. With a bow that was more of a convulsion of fear, the servant then fled the room, careful to avoid stepping on the profane writing. Kiram thought he saw Alizadeh stifle a laugh at this performance. Javier didn't seem to notice any of it, his attention fully focused on Kiram.

As Rafie stirred the bitters into the pot, sharp, herbal scents rose on the steam.

Javier returned to his bedside chair but didn't sit. Instead he leaned over the back of the chair and watched while Kiram drank the steamed bitters. Kiram tried not to make a sour face as he gulped down the hot, astringent liquid.

"You should get a little more sleep," Rafie told Kiram.

"I can't," Kiram replied. "I have to check in with Master Ignacio-"

"You're nearly two bells too late for that," Javier said.

"What? He's going to kill me." Kiram almost choked on the bitters. "I've got to go."

"He's not going to kill you." For the first time since Kiram had woken Javier's usual tone of mocking amusement returned. "He told me to make sure you were well and rested for the tournament tomorrow."

"He's not angry?"

"I didn't say that, but he knew you were injured and after he saw you for himself he was satisfied that you weren't feigning illness."

"He came here to see me?" The image of the war master scowling down at his unconscious body sent a chill snaking down his spine.

"When neither of us reported he came storming in," Javier replied.

"Into this room?" Kiram couldn't imagine any Cadeleonian barging into Javier's bedroom, not when trained footmen practically pissed themselves just delivering a glorified teapot.

"Up to the threshold." Javier smirked. "He didn't come any further, but he didn't need to. As soon as he saw your uncle redressing your arm he told me not to bother waking you."

Kiram glanced down at his forearm and for the first time noticed that the bandages had been changed. Only a few spots of blood colored the white cloth. "It doesn't look that bad."

"It looked bad enough this afternoon." Javier crossed his arms over his chest. "You were white as clay and cold."

"I feel fine now."

"You boys are so resilient," Alizadeh, who had drifted back toward the fire, commented. "I envy your youth."

Kiram almost laughed at Alizadeh envying anyone's youth. The man hardly looked older than Javier in this flickering firelight.

"Finish your bitters," Rafie said.

Kiram obeyed his uncle, then slowly sank back into the bed. The warmth of the fire and the soft blankets engulfed him. Kiram closed his eyes, feeling both relaxed and satisfied. He'd convinced Alizadeh to take Javier's side. He would be staying at the academy. Relief welled through him like an opiate and he drifted.

"I know that these circumstances must seem terrible." Javier's voice was soft and seemed distant. Kiram thought he must have been talking to Rafie or Alizadeh. "But I assure you that Kiram is safe here. I give you my word that I will devote all my resources to his protection if you just allow him to remain at the Sagrada Academy."

Kiram opened his eyes. He couldn't see Javier's face but looking over his shoulder he glimpsed Rafie's serious expression. Sitting in a chair, Alizadeh bowed his head over a small talisman in his hand. He mouthed soft words but made no sound. He seemed unaware of the rest of them.

Kiram expected Rafie to inform Javier that he had already decided that Kiram would be staying.

Instead Rafie leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "Why do you want him to stay so badly?"

"He." Javier went quiet and when he did speak again his voice was so hushed that Kiram had to strain to hear him. "He's important to me."

Kiram watched as Rafie studied Javier in silence. Slowly, Rafie's harsh expression softened to sadness. "It won't be easy for either of you, you know."

"I'm not afraid of difficulty," Javier replied.

"Of course you're not." A brief scowl flickered across Rafie's face but then he sighed. "Alizadeh and I will be leaving first thing in the morning, but Kiram will remain here in your care."

Kiram saw the tension drop from Javier's shoulders. "Thank you, sir."

"Wait a year and see if you still want to thank me." Rafie frowned over Javier's shoulder to Kiram. "I may be doing you less of a favor than you think."

The next morning Rafie and Alizadeh woke Kiram just after dawn. They remained only long enough to wish Kiram good luck and to admire the gold jupon that Kiram's mother had sent. Kiram slipped it over his clothes. It hung a little loosely, having been fitted to wear over thick leather armor. Still, Rafie looked admiring. "I'll tell her that you looked handsome in it."

Alizadeh blessed Kiram's lotus medallion and warned him to beware of blue jays and befriend any crows he met. Despite the previous days of arguments, Kiram felt a pang of sadness when Rafie released him from a farewell embrace.

"Take care," Rafie told him.

"Travel safe," Kiram replied.

Javier had just wandered down stairs into the entry hall, still looking as if he were half-asleep. His black hair tangled around his face and his expression was soft.

Alizadeh waved to Javier and said, "We will meet again."

Javier simply nodded. Then Rafie and Alizadeh quietly slipped out the door leaving Javier and Kiram alone in the entryway.

"Hungry?" Javier asked.

Kiram nodded.

"Well, let's see what we can scare up." Javier started for the dining room. Kiram walked alongside him. "Ybu feel up to today?" Javier asked.

The question worried Kiram slightly. The last day of the tournament was reserved for third year formal dueling, which meant full armor and squires, hence Kiram's new jupon. He would be out with Javier, carrying his weapons and helping him with his armor.