There was a long pause as they looked at each other. To his credit, David didn't
look away. 'So it is her. We often wondered, but you never said anything. Holly
and I love each other, Arthur. We always have. We're going to be married soon. I
wish… things could have been different. We used to be so close, the three of
us.'
'We were children then. Children grow up.'
There was a sudden knocking at the door. The two men jumped to their feet as the
door burst open and Jamie hurried in.
'What is it?' asked David, as Jamie shut the door behind him. 'What's happened?'
'Relax,' said Jamie. 'There's no emergency. I just needed someone to talk to. I
don't know what to do. At the moment I'm pinning all my hopes on Dad's will,
that there'll be something in it that can help us, but it's a slim hope at best.
I'm not up to this. In the past, whenever there was a problem, I could always
turn to Dad. He always knew what to do. Now there's just me, and everything's
going wrong.'
'Oh hell,' said David. 'Another one.'
'Ignore him,' said Arthur quickly. 'You mustn't blame yourself, Jamie. You're
doing everything you can. We understand how hard it is. It's not easy, learning
how to stand on your own feet. Some people never do learn. But you're doing fine
so far. Isn't he, Davey?'
'Damn right,' said David. 'You found your father's papers, didn't you? Without
them, we might never have found out what kind of monster we were dealing with.'
'I can't help feeling Dad would have done things differently,' said Jamie. 'He
was the great warrior, after all; the great hero. Everyone said so, even the
King. I was so proud of him… even though I never got to see much of him. He was
away with the army a lot, especially after Mother died when I was young. But he
was spending more time at the Tower just recently, and we were really getting to
know each other. And then he had to go and die in that stupid little clash on
the border. I couldn't believe it when I heard. How could he have been so
stupid? He didn't have to go up there in person, not someone of his rank. He
must have known it wasn't safe up there! But he went anyway, because he couldn't
bear to miss out on the action. And he got himself killed, leaving Holly and me
alone. And on top of all that, he hadn't even bothered to tell me the Secret, as
he should have!'
He was close to tears, his face bright red with anger and frustration. Arthur
took him by the arm, and gently but firmly made him sit down on the nearest
chair. 'It's all right to be angry, Jamie,' he said softly. 'I was angry at my
Family when they all died so suddenly, going off and leaving me all alone. But
it wasn't your father's fault. He didn't mean to leave you. He just made a
mistake, that's all; a simple mistake in judgment.'
'Right,' said David, sitting on the arm of the chair. 'Everyone makes mistakes,
Jamie. Even a great hero like your dad.'
'The whole border situation is a mess right now,' said Arthur. 'Practically
everyone I know has lost somebody to one border clash or another. If Outremer
doesn't back down soon, we could find ourselves in a full-fledged war.'
'It won't come to that,' said David. 'No one wants a war, at least no one that
matters, and no one really cares about the borders. It's just politics, that's
all. The diplomats will sort it out. Eventually.'
'We're getting away from the point,' said Arthur. 'Which is, all you can ever do
is give it your best shot, and hope that's enough. That's all your father would
expect of you, Jamie. That's all any of us expect of you. You're doing fine.
Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Right, Davey?'
'Sure,' said David. 'We'll find the freak and kill him, and no one will ever
have to know about it.'
'Right,' said Arthur. 'Care for a drink, Jamie?'
Greaves looked round the library and nodded approvingly. Everything was where it
should be, ready for the reading of the will. Duncan would have been proud to
see all his wishes carried out to the letter. The chairs had been set up in a
semicircle facing Duncan's favorite desk. The wax-sealed will had been placed
neatly in the middle of the desktop, ready to be opened. All it lacked now was
the man himself.
Greaves' breath suddenly caught in his chest, and he looked away. He'd known the
master was dead for some time now, but somehow the reading of the will confirmed
it, made it real. Duncan would never again come striding through that door, to
warm his hands at the fire and roar for cigars and his best brandy. Once the
will was read, Duncan would become just a memory, a portrait on the wall; and
young Jamie would be the new MacNeil in fact as well as name. Greaves sighed.
He'd serve Jamie faithfully, just as Mister Duncan had ordered, but it wouldn't
be the same. Mister Duncan had been a great man, and Greaves would miss him.
He felt suddenly tired, and sat down on one of the chairs, something he would
never have done if anyone else had been present. But it was all right; there was
no one to see him. Robbie Brennan was off on an errand, and Mister Jamie and the
guests were all safely occupied upstairs. Greaves leaned back in the chair and
looked slowly around him. The library had always been his favorite room. Many an
evening he had served Mister Duncan and his guests as they sat in the library,
telling and retelling marvelous tales of their younger, soldiering days. And
Greaves had moved from chair to chair, handing out glasses of mulled wine and
dispensing cigars, inventing extra tasks so that he could stay a little longer
and listen, too.
The butler scowled, pursing his lips tightly together. It was all gone now. No
more evening stories. No more fine parties of great people for him to look
after. And the MacNeil himself dead and lost on a battlefield too far away even
to imagine, let alone visit. There had been little warmth in Greaves's life as a
butler, only orders and duties and the comfort of knowing his place and keeping
to it. But Greaves had always thought of himself as someone who might have been
Duncan MacNeil's friend if things had been different. And now the man was dead,
and Greaves would never be able to tell him that.
The door opened and Greaves was quickly back on his feet, but it was only Robbie
Brennan, carrying the extra candelabrum Greaves had sent him for. Greaves
pointed silently to where he wanted it, and Brennan lowered it carefully into
place. He straightened up and glared at Greaves.
'That has to be it. We've moved everything in here that isn't actually nailed
down.'
'The MacNeil was very particular in his wishes,' said Greaves calmly.
'Everything had to be just so. But we are finished now.'
'Good,' said Brennan. 'I think I've done my back in, shifting that desk. I'd
better go and tell Jamie his guests can come down now.'
'Just a minute… Robbie. I want to talk to you.'
Brennan looked at the butler in surprise as Greaves sat down again and gestured
