eastern edge of the Second Quarter was one of polite disappointment.
“I know you must be proud of your son, Lady Korvan,” Inthelph said.
Thurene looked at Willem, who cleared his throat and said, “It’s not… in Cormyr, you see…”
With a smile Inthelph said, “She will always be Lady Korvan to me, Willem, whether or not the Royal Court of Cormyr recognizes the title.”
It was Willem’s turn to blush, but it was Thurene who answered, “The Master Builder is most charming. Thank you.”
“Please, call me Inthelph.”
There were smiles and nods all around, and a silence stretched past the point of being bearable.
“We should sit,” Willem said, his mind moving in a sluggish, unsure manner. Looking between his mother, whom he hadn’t seen in years, and the master builder who seemed so much a part of his new life in Innarlith, he thought the two of them couldn’t possibly coexist in the same room at the same time. “This way, please.”
“Perhaps I should go,” Inthelph said, glancing down at the trunks that had been stacked in the tiny foyer. “I can only imagine you must be tired after so long a journey, madam.”
“Oh, no, no,” Thurene replied. “I couldn’t possibly run you off.”
“But if you are tired, Mother…” Willem said. He felt tired himself.
“My son looks after me,” Thurene said to Inthelph, “but I’m sure you know what that’s like.”
A strange look came over Inthelph’s face, then one that made Willem uncomfortable.
“You have a daughter,” Willem offered, cringing at what felt like a presumption but was a simple enough statement of fact.
“Do you indeed?” Thurene asked, beaming just enough to be polite.
Inthelph all but squirmed, then said, “My daughter and I are often… at odds with one another.”
Thurene tipped her head and smiled in a sweet and genuine way Willem could tell was anything but.
“They all go through those times,” she said. “Never fear. It doesn’t last. Look at my boy here. All grown up, a responsible young man who’s found so accomplished and impressive a mentor.” A conspiratorial look came over Thurene then and she added, “Perhaps if the two of them were introduced, my Willem could be a good influence”
She stopped short when Inthelph turned to leave and Willem practically jumped to open the door for him. The hot, humid night air blew into the tight space bringing with it a hint of sulfur. Thurene put a dainty hand to her nose.
Inthelph smiled and said, “One does get used to it.” Thurene’s smile was gracious but unconvinced. “Good night, Master Builder.”
“Good night, sir,” Willem said.
With a shallow bow, the master builder went off into the night.
“You haven’t met his daughter yet?” Thurene asked once the door was closed.
“No, Mother,” Willem answered, just getting the words out felt like a titanic struggle. “I had held out some hope that…”
“If she’s such an embarrassment to him,” Thurene offered, “perhaps it’s just as well. Still, a man your age…”
“You must be tired,” he said, glancing at the narrow staircase that would take his mother to the room he’d prepared for her.
With a sigh, she said, “Good night, my dear. In the morning perhaps you’ll show me this city of yours.”
“I will, of course,” Willem replied. “Good night, Mother. It’s good to have you here finally.”
She touched his cheek with cool, dry fingers, smiled, and went upstairs to bed.
Once he was certain she was asleep, Willem crept out of the house as quietly as he could, met Halina at a tavern they often slipped away to on nights her uncle was at home, and because his mother wouldn’t want him to, he asked her to marry him.
21
30 Alturiak, the Year of Maidens (1361 DR) Fourth Quarter, Innarlith
Standing under a scaffold at the top of the wall, Willem Korvan managed to stay at least somewhat dry, but the damp air still chilled him to the bone. While he stood there shivering, he watched the rain drench the city of Innarlith. The rooftops steamed in the dull gray light.
Footsteps drew his attention and he turned to see Ivar Devorast, soaked to the skin, his ill-fitting clothing not only drenched but surely not substantial enough to have kept out the cold anyway. Willem’s first attempt to speak to his old friend failed on his tongue, he was so startled by the man’s appearance. Devorast had never taken any care with his personal grooming, but standing there on the wall, he looked… poor.
Devorast stood in the rain staring at Willem, waiting. Willem took a step to the side and nodded Devorast into the small space in the shelter of the scaffold. When Devorast stepped out of the rain, Willem detected a subtle reluctance and couldn’t be sure if it meant Devorast didn’t want to come in out of the rain or that he didn’t want to stand so close to his former landlady’s son.
“It’s ridiculous…” Willem said, then realized he was speaking aloud. The rest of the thought he finished to himself alone:… that I should be made to feel uncomfortable when I’m the one doing you a favor.
Devorast didn’t seem to have heard him anyway.
“It’s been a long time,” Willem said.
Devorast nodded.
“Two years?” Willem asked.
Devorast shrugged.
Willem sighed and before he could stop himself, before he could think it through, he said, “I owe you my career, you know.”
Devorast had no response. When Willem looked at him all he saw were Devorast’s sparkling, animated eyes darting from structure to structure in the town below, lingering only on the tall masts of the ships bobbing in the rain-muddied harbor.
“Anyway,” Willem went on, “the fact that there’s a wall for us to stand on is a testament to that, and you have never asked for anything in return.”
“The work was reward enough,” Devorast replied.
Even with the cold air already making him shiver, Willem shuddered at the sound of Devorast’s voice. It was as clear, as solid and uncompromising as ever. It was a king’s voice, coming from the body of a pauper.
“Still, I owe you,” Willem said, “and I’m the sort of man who makes good on his debts.”
Again, no response was forthcoming from the stoic Devorast.
“I’ve heard that things have finally hit bottom for your shipbuilder,” Willem said.
Any other man might have flinched, but Devorast simply nodded.
“All Innarlith was shocked by the accident,” said Willem.
“If it was an accident,” Devorast replied.
“You think it was something else?” asked Willem. “Do you believe someone deliberately opened that portal in the sky?”
Devorast’s lips tightened to a thin slit, but he didn’t speak.
“Well, anyway,” Willem said, “a man has to eat, and with that at least, I think I can help. If I do this for you, though, I will consider my debt to you paid in full, and we will continue for the rest of our lives never speaking of it again. Agreed?”
“What do you intend to do for me?” Devorast asked.
As if on cue, both of them turned at the sound of hurried footsteps and watched the master builder hustling up the temporary wooden stairway from the ground far below. Though some stretches of the stairway were covered to protect workers and soldiers from falling debris, Inthelph was as drenched as Willem and Devorast. He hurried to the shelter of the scaffold, and Willem was certain Devorast would move out to give the master builder room out of
