just trying …”
“You recall our talk yesterday, in the car?”
My mind whirled. “You mustn’t advise me not to go home. But what does that … oh!”
If Dr Zayre didn’t know I was a runaway, no one could fault her for taking me in. But once she knew … Still, I’d been trying to protect her, in my thoughtless way.
My tone was humble. “I’m sorry.”
“No matter.”
“Should I come here to stay, sir?”
His eyes softened. “Randy, the Stadholder knows you and my son are friends. Sooner or later …”
“I’ll move to Dr Zayre’s.”
I didn’t have much to say for the rest of lunch.
Later, on the way home, I folded my arms, stared out the window. Mr Dakko let me brood. Abruptly, after a long while, I stirred. “Pull over, please.”
Surprised, he slowed, pulled into a quiet lane, turned off the motor. “What is it, boy?”
“There’s a lot I don’t know about politics.” The confession shamed me. “But I’m not stupid. I may act it, but I’m not.” I forced defiance from my tone. “Please, tell me what’s going on.”
“A lot’s going on, lad. What do you ask?”
I stared at my shoes. “I’m just a joeykid who’s having trouble with his family. But you treat me like …” I foundered, started over. “Today at lunch, Dr Zayre never asked my last name. I’d want to know, before inviting someone to live with me. And she never asked if I knew about flowers or was handy with tools.”
“That troubles you?”
“It makes me think she already knew. That you’d made arrangements. That, together, you’re hiding me. Are you?”
“If so, you’d object?”
“Sir, Kev and I got along, but that’s no reason to risk yourself for me. Is this to hurt Anth?”
“Why would you think so?”
A question, instead of a straight answer. He was fencing.
Shit.
I sighed, knowing what I had to do. I tried my door; it was locked. “Please let me out.”
“Where are you going?”
“Home, to face the Bishop.” To ruin my life.
“Stay a moment.” His penetrating blue eyes regarded me with new wariness. “Very well, joey, you have my word. I don’t wish to harm your nephew.” After a moment, he pursed his fingers, like a spider on a mirror. “Why are you so suspicious?”
“You have some goal. Some—” I struggled for the word Anthony would use. “—agenda. Political games, I think. I hate the way Anth treats me, but we’re family. I won’t drag him into your games.”
“But you already have.” In his face, sympathy. “The Right Reverend Scanlen is furious, and demands your return. You embarrassed him in front of everyone who matters. He named you wayward today, in a rather stiff note to the authorities.”
Bile rose, and burned my throat. I swallowed convulsively. “Then I’ll turn myself in.”
“Ah, but the Stadholder doesn’t want you in Scanlen’s hands. He can’t say it aloud, but we know. If the Bishop gets you, he has Anthony.”
“Once the Church has me to punish, I’m no issue.”
“Except to your nephew.”
“Why, sir?”
“He values you. Once the Church has you on their training farm, he’ll agree to anything they demand. Because every day you’d face the strap, a solitary penitence cell, even a fatal accident in the night.”
“Why do you care?” I was unbearably rude.
“About you? You’re my son’s friend, but that doesn’t signify so much. Look at me, joey.” He waited. “Now, please. Into my eyes.”
“Yes, sir.” His tone was something like Dad’s when I’d irked him.
His gaze wasn’t unkind. “I’ll speak frankly, as you demand. We all wish you hadn’t provoked a cris—no, a situation. Anthony Carr has been in a delicate dance with the Church, as was your father, Derek. My friends and I prefer that he emerge independent. If you go home, you’ll destroy any chance of that.” A pause, and he plunged on. “You asked for honesty? Very well: our interests and his don’t coincide in all things. In some matters
“You recall our talk yesterday, in the car?”
My mind whirled. “You mustn’t advise me not to go home. But what does that … oh!”
If Dr Zayre didn’t know I was a runaway, no one could fault her for taking me in. But once she knew … Still, I’d been trying to protect her, in my thoughtless way.
My tone was humble. “I’m sorry.”
“No matter.”
“Should I come here to stay, sir?”
His eyes softened. “Randy, the Stadholder knows you and my son are friends. Sooner or later …”
“I’ll move to Dr Zayre’s.”
I didn’t have much to say for the rest of lunch.
Later, on the way home, I folded my arms, stared out the window. Mr Dakko let me brood. Abruptly, after a long while, I stirred. “Pull over, please.”
Surprised, he slowed, pulled into a quiet lane, turned off the motor. “What is it, boy?”
“There’s a lot I don’t know about politics.” The confession shamed me. “But I’m not stupid. I may act it, but I’m not.” I forced defiance from my tone. “Please, tell me what’s going on.”
“A lot’s going on, lad. What do you ask?”
I stared at my shoes. “I’m just a joeykid who’s having trouble with his family. But you treat me like …” I foundered, started over. “Today at lunch, Dr Zayre never asked my last name. I’d want to know, before inviting someone to live with me. And she never asked if I knew about flowers or was handy with tools.”
“That troubles you?”
“It makes me think she already knew. That you’d made arrangements. That, together, you’re hiding me. Are you?”
“If so, you’d object?”
“Sir, Kev and I got along, but that’s no reason to risk yourself for me. Is this to hurt Anth?”
“Why would you think so?”
A question, instead of a straight answer. He was fencing.
Shit.
I sighed, knowing what I had to do. I tried my door; it was locked. “Please let me out.”
“Where are you going?”
“Home, to face the Bishop.” To ruin my life.
“Stay a moment.” His penetrating blue eyes regarded me with new wariness. “Very well, joey, you have my word. I don’t wish to harm your nephew.” After a moment, he pursed his fingers, like a spider on a mirror. “Why are you so suspicious?”
“You have some goal. Some—” I struggled for the word Anthony would use. “—agenda. Political games, I think. I hate the way Anth treats me, but we’re family. I won’t drag him into your games.”
“But you already have.” In his face, sympathy. “The Right Reverend Scanlen is furious, and demands your return. You embarrassed him in front of everyone who matters. He named you wayward today, in a rather stiff note to the authorities.”
Bile rose, and burned my throat. I swallowed convulsively. “Then I’ll turn myself in.”
“Ah, but the Stadholder doesn’t want you in Scanlen’s hands. He can’t say it aloud, but we know. If the Bishop gets you, he has Anthony.”
“Once the Church has me to punish, I’m no issue.”
“Except to your nephew.”
“Why, sir?”
“He values you. Once the Church has you on their training farm, he’ll agree to anything they demand. Because every day you’d face the strap, a solitary penitence cell, even a fatal accident in the night.”
“Why do you care?” I was unbearably rude.
“About you? You’re my son’s friend, but that doesn’t signify so much. Look at me, joey.” He waited. “Now, please. Into my eyes.”
“Yes, sir.” His tone was something like Dad’s when I’d irked him.
His gaze wasn’t unkind. “I’ll speak frankly, as you demand. We all wish you hadn’t provoked a cris—no, a situation. Anthony Carr has been in a delicate dance with the Church, as was your father, Derek. My friends and I prefer that he emerge independent. If you go home, you’ll destroy any chance of that.” A pause, and he plunged on. “You asked for honesty? Very well: our interests and his don’t coincide in all things. In some matters
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