And what of Ethan? He couldn’t leave his nephew. Not now. Not when he had promised Nora he would be there to direct all of their mother’s attention away from her grandson, to let the boy have the innocent life Hamish hadn’t the luxury of living. He shouldn’t have to be a shield for the lad, but if she found out…
Well, neither of his siblings was entirely sure what their mother would do, only that it wouldn’t bode well for the boy.
The murmur of voices caught his ear. Guards. He flattened himself against the wall, resting his head back on the stone as he listened to the chatter. Not quite loud enough to make out more than the odd word. Not getting any louder, either. Nor, sadly, fainter.
That could only mean, rather than continue to scour the castle for him, they had returned to their post outside his room to wait him out. He had become accustomed to waking and readying himself for the new day before the guards could burst in, so knew they’d still be there hours later. And it was possible they believed him to have returned to the room before them, for they didn’t regularly check if he was inside, but he couldn’t be certain until later.
How was he going to make it past them?
“Still out on our little night-time foray, are we?”
The sound of his brother’s voice drew his gaze. A shadow moved in the gloom of the corridor leading towards the rest of their family’s quarters.
Relief weakened Hamish’s limbs. “I thought you would’ve gone to bed.” Unlike Nora, who preferred late nights of silence in the library, Gordon leant towards rising with the sun.
Gordon smirked and leant in the archway. “Well, I figured you’d need the help and, that if you were to come back here alone from his imperial highness’ room, this would be the fastest route to take. I also came to the conclusion that you were too busy enjoying yourself to bother sticking to the plan.”
Hamish grinned. “Nae exactly, but you see I—”
His brother held up a hand as he straightened. “You ken I dinnae want to hear what me brother’s been up to.” Gordon peered around the corner. “I see Mum’s guards are still in place. I’m surprised they havenae started looking for you.”
“They did.” In hushed tones, he regaled his brother with what had transpired with the guards back in the guest quarters, omitting just how Darshan had hidden him. And the fact it had also nearly gotten the both of them killed. “But if I’m nae in there before sunrise, then I’m going to be in trouble.” The next stage of his mother’s punishments would likely involve a permanent escort in, as well as outside, the castle grounds.
“I wouldnae be too sure about that. If you can promise me to be a little more discreet in future, I’ll help get you past them.”
He nodded. More discreet was something he could certainly do. Although, getting Darshan to cooperate there might take a little trial and error on both their parts. “How are we doing this? Injury?” No, that might be a little tricky to pull off this late.
His brother hummed thoughtfully. “That depends… How drunk can you act?”
We’re going for that one, are we? It had been a favoured excuse ever since they were young men. And generally a truth of sorts when Hamish used to frequent the pubs. Not that he’d been in such a state recently. “Right now?” Grinning, Hamish draped an arm over his brother’s shoulders. “Immensely well, but acting willnae get us anywhere without smelling the part.”
Gordon narrowed his eyes. He pulled out a small flask and uncorked it. The heady scent of dark ale drifted up between them. “A little drink ought to be enough.” His brother took a few deep swallows before handing it over. “Be sure to spill a little on yourself.”
“I can figure that out for meself,” he mumbled. This wasn’t the first time they had duped the guards this way. Whether or not they would be caught was highly dependent on their mother’s orders. “What do you think?”
Gordon wrinkled his nose and took a hesitant sniff. “You smell like a brewery.” His brother eyed Hamish’s clothes. “And you look like you’ve been brawling. What in the name of the Goddess happened to you? Did you fall down some stairs on the way back?”
Hamish shook his head and lightly brushed the dirt from a sleeve. “Tumbled in through a window.” Glancing up, he spied the faint tightening of the wrinkles around his brother’s eyes, that deep green colour almost lost beneath his lashes. “I’ll explain later,” he added before Gordon demanded the whole story right then and there.
“You had better,” his brother growled, his lips barely moving beneath his thick moustache. Gordon wrapped one of Hamish’s arms around his neck. “Dinnae hang on me too much, I’m nae as spry as I used to be.”
“Bollocks,” Hamish replied, laughing. Even after a little over four decades, his brother could keep up with the best of the guards and outmatched a good deal of the rest.
They rounded the corridor corner with Hamish deliberately swaying and bumping into his brother. The guards were already facing them, illuminated by the warm light of two lanterns hanging either side of Hamish’s bedchamber door. No doubt the men had been tipped off by the noise of his unsteady stomping.
Ranulf, a warrior of the royal standing army that their mother had elected for the post, seemed particularly disgusted with their arrival. Those dark eyes narrowed further as Hamish neared until the man peered at him through slits. He carded his fingers through his black beard, but said nothing.
“Hello there, lads!” Gordon called. He tugged slightly on Hamish’s belt, pulling them to one side and back
