“ ‘Mish?” Frowning, Gordon scratched at his chin. “I suppose you could say he’s the face of the crown to the locals. He typically spends his days wandering the farms, helping where he can, listening to their troubles, righting wrongs and all that.” A small, fond smile tweaked the edges of his mouth. “When he’s nae the one kissing fools and causing trouble.”
Cunning. Send out the youngest to make the crown look benevolent and eager to please the people. “And where exactly is he at the moment?”
“Around.” Cupping his hands around his mouth, Gordon bellowed, “Sun’s getting higher, lads.”
Darshan eyed the haystacks. Did one of them just move? He peered at the left-most pile. He was certain he had seen a twitch that couldn’t be explained by the wind.
The haystack moved, Hamish erupting from the centre like a vengeful god of the harvest. Hay scattered on the wind, getting caught up in his clothes, hair and a ridiculous pair of antlers tied to his head.
The boys loosed their arrows, easily hitting Hamish at so close a distance.
Coughing and laughing, Hamish swatted at the air. It disturbed the dust, but did little to deter the boys who were already nocking another arrow. “All right, lads, you got me. Fair’s fair.” He knelt before them. “I yield.”
The boys cast glances at each other before scooping up the discarded projectiles. Giggling, the trio raced around their uncle, batting at him with the linen-tipped arrows as if he was a drum.
“Hey!” Hamish ducked his head, wrapping his arms around his face. He wore the assault for a few moments. “I already yielded. Lads— That’s enough.” One of the arrow tips hit him in the mouth, exploding dust everywhere. “All right,” he spluttered, grinning and spitting out flecks dyed a disgusting green. “You asked for it.” Roaring, Hamish leapt to his feet, arms up and hands clawed. “Who wants to be eaten first?”
“Bear!” screamed Mac, the youngest. He brandished his arrow like a sword. “I’ll save us.”
“It’s worse than that,” Bruce replied, already scrambling across the ground, his green-tipped arrow forgotten as he legged it. “It’s a stag-bear!”
Growling, the sound somewhat akin to a sick dog, Hamish scooped up Mac and tucked the boy under an arm before barrelling on past Gordon and Darshan in his quest to capture his other two nephews.
The two older boys ran around the courtyard, squealing and giggling as they dashed from one bit of shelter to the next.
“He made it back to his room just fine, by the way,” Gordon said, returning his attention to Darshan. “Nae thanks to you. You shouldnae have kept him so late.”
Whilst he had been accused of leading men astray before—and some of those claims might’ve had more than a grain of truth to them—no one, not even his father, had ever berated him for the lateness of his activities. “Did he not tell you the reason was a very innocent, albeit entirely truthful one?”
“That you two fell asleep?” He scoffed, although the ghost of a smile crept along his otherwise stern face. “Aye, amongst other details, like you almost dropping him whilst trying to get him back through the window?” Gordon arched a brow at him, but continued before Darshan could open his mouth. “I ken you’ve probably got a reasonable explanation on how me brother wound up outside the room to begin with, but he’s already told me everything. I am far more interested in how you plan to rationalise threatening me sister.”
Darshan stared at the man, slightly taken aback. “When did I do that?” He certainly didn’t recall issuing any major threats. It would explain the coolness of her response to his earlier request for books with Udynean text. “I might have suggested she reacquaint herself with what my title means. I might have also been a little sharp about it.”
“To hear her say it, you said more than that.”
Yes. Now he thought on it, he’d said quite a bit more than he had intended. “I may have also mentioned how it could lead to unpleasantness should Queen Fiona decide banishing me from her kingdom would be a valid recourse. I shall be certain to apologise when I see her highness next. She spoke to me at a bad time and, I am afraid, undeservedly caught the brunt of my temper.”
“A temper you seem more than willing to flash when it pleases you. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say you are aware your father pressed for peace. Yet, you swan about in a manner that could lead us all to war.” Those green eyes, suddenly far sharper than Darshan recalled, narrowed at him. “Is that what you’re after?”
“Of course not.” He bristled at the very idea. It had been a long time since the Udynea Empire had truly done more than bicker with itself. Even the border disputes were more likely to involve a lord’s personal retinue than any imperial army. The only exception being their seemingly eternal battle with the spellster-slaughtering Obuzan kingdom. “I am here only to settle the trade between our peoples.”
“And I suppose the negotiation now requires extra conditions to be met?”
Darshan bit his tongue. Gordon couldn’t possibly know about his disastrous talk with Queen Fiona, not if the man had been with his nephews the whole time. Had Hamish mentioned leaving for Udynean lands? Last night or this morning? He thought his lover would’ve kept such talk closer to his chest. “Is having your brother happy and free to pursue whomever he wants that big of a stipulation?”
“Allow me to make something quite clear to you.” Gordon swung from watching the boys still race around the courtyard to face Darshan square on.
Darshan had taken a half-step back before realising he had moved. The man was only a tad taller than Hamish, but he certainly cut an
