them!”
He laughed too, but uncertainly.
After a long break, when it seemed they wouldn't be able to go back outside because of the storms, the guards asked for permission to resume their exercises in the front entry hall.
“Go ahead,” I told Captain Neole, looking at Aber for guidance. As I expected, he gave a subtle half nod. “Just don't break anything.”
They made room by moving the lamps, braziers, and odd bits of furniture to one side. I had to admit the chamber was big enough, and as long as they watched out for the rows of tall stone columns running down the center, they seemed in no immediate danger.
They worked through a series of exercises, then began pairing up to practice swordplay. I found myself watching from the library door, a bit enviously. Part of me longed to join them, to forget myself for at least the next few hours in grueling physical exertion, but I didn't feel up to it. Tired and sore, with a headache that threatened to split my skull, I wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and sleep for the next few days.
“That's it,” I told Aber. “I'm going to bed.”
He seemed surprised. “Already?”
“I've had it,” I said. “Between visions and lightning bolts, my head feels like it's going to explode. Wake me if we're being attacked and slaughtered, or if Dad shows up. If it's anything else, solve the problem yourself!”
“Can you find your way back to your room?”
“Sure.” I felt certain I could, at least from the main staircase. I'd been up it often enough to get my bearings. “What about you? Your day has been just as hard.”
“True. But I have some work to do first,” he said.
“Oh?”
He laughed. “Nothing you'd find exciting or interesting. Just some letters to write.”
“To anyone I know?”
“Distant cousins, whom I'm hoping will prove sympathetic to our situation.”
“Good idea,” I said. For once, he was thinking like a soldier: find allies and bring them into the fight on your side. If I knew anyone here, I wouldn't have hesitated to summon their help.
He went to the desk and retrieved quills, a short-bladed knife for cutting down the point, and writing paper, all of which he arranged within easy reach.
I left him there bent over the table, pen in hand, and the scritch-scratch noises followed me out into the hall.
Safely back in my room, I undressed and gave my clothes to Horace, who made as if to leave with them. Then he paused.
“Sir?”
“What is it?”
“Do you need me to watch your sleep tonight?”
I thought about it, then shook my head.
“No need. I'll be fine. Go to bed and catch up on your own rest.”
“Yes, sir!” I didn't have to tell him twice—he hurried into his room and shut the door before I could change my mind.
Then I turned toward my bed. A subtle movement of the bedclothes warned me that they weren't empty. An assassin? Or was it another trick of this accursed place, where down was up and everything moved on its own?
I couldn't take any chances. Softly I crept over to the chair where I'd so carelessly hung my swordbelt moments before. Drawing the blade slowly and silently, I inched closer to the bed, reached out, and flipped back the covers.
A familiar and quite beautiful face peeked out at me.
“Rhalla!” I said with delight, relaxing.
“A sword?” She lowered her eyes, then smiled up at me. “Is this the way you welcome lovers to your bed, Lord Oberon?”
“Not usually.”
I returned my sword to its scabbard at the desk. Then I joined her in bed. We kissed, and made love frantically, as though it might be the last thing either one of us did.
Far too early the next morning—at least, I assumed it was morning—I awakened from a deep and dreamless sleep to Aber's annoyingly chipper voice.
“Wake up, Oberon. Too many hours in bed will make you weak!”
“Go away!”
“I'm hungry, and I see no reason to eat alone with you in the house. Time to get up.”
I groaned, then closed my eyes again.
“Port, throw him out!” I called.
“Sorry, Oberon,” my door replied. “I am not a bouncer. You will have to throw him out yourself.”
“Don't be a slug-a-bed!” he told me. I heard him open the ward-robe's doors and rummage around inside. “You've got plenty of clothes here. Pick something or I'll pick it for you.”
I sighed. So much for a quiet morning in bed. All I wanted to do was go back to sleep. After making love to Rhalla half the night, exhaustion threatened to overwhelm me.
“Is Dad back yet?” I asked, eyes still closed.
“No.”
“How about the hell-creatures?”
“No sign of them, either.”
“Then what's the rush?”
“I'm hungry!”
I rolled over, opening one eye. Golden light bubbled up from the lamp by the door. He stood before me with arms folded, tapping one foot impatiently. He had gray silk pants and shirt tucked under his arm.
“Ready to get dressed?” he said. “Where's your valet?”
“Sleeping, like any sensible person!” I told him. “Now, go back to bed. I need my sleep. I'll have lunch with you later.”
“Afraid not. We have too much to do today. I'm expecting replies to my letters. And don't you want to try Dad's Trump again?”
I gave a huge sigh. Clearly he wasn't taking no for an answer. Sitting up, I swung my legs over the side of the bed, then pulled the sheet across my lap to cover my nakedness.
“All right, pest. Give me the clothes.”
“Here.” He held them out, and I took them.
Behind me, still buried in the covers, Rhalla stirred and murmured a sleepy question.
“It's just my brother Aber,” I told her. I rubbed her back through the quilt. “Go to sleep.”
“Who's that—” Aber began, leaning forward to see.
“Don't be nosy,” I told him. “I know you won't approve, but I couldn't help myself. She's beautiful and smart…”
Without warning, my brother sucked in a panicked breath and leaped back, looking desperately around the room. He motioned frantically for me to stay silent and get out of bed. Running to the desk, he began to fumble with my swordbelt.
“What
“
My breath caught in my throat. Danger? What had he seen?
Suddenly wide awake, I stood and took two quick steps toward the door. Port's face appeared there, staring at us with concern.
“What is it?” I demanded.
Rhalla stirred again and rolled over, half opening her eyes.
“Oberon?” she asked.
