The Quality of Mercy by Faye Kellerman Page A

gone. The mission in jeopardy. And my dear Becca. He said, “How can I marry my daughter to a buggerer?”
    Dunstan asked if he could speak. Roderigo nodded wearily.
    “Uncle,” Dunstan said. “It’s best if Rebecca remains available until an appropriate suitor is found.”
    “The Baron of Herdford seemed interested in her,” Thomas remarked. “At least, he inquired about her quite extensively.”
    “Bah,” Dunstan answered, brushing him off. “He’s an old bag of wind whose sword lost his thrust many summers ago.”
    “Tis not only rutting that makes a good husband,” Benjamin argued. “He’s rich.”
    “Tut, Benjamin,” Dunstan replied. “Have pity on your sister. The Baron of Herdford!”
    “The old lord will die soon,” Benjamin persisted. “As a wealthy widow with title, Rebecca could have her pick of suitors.”
    “She has her pick anyway,” Dunstan said. “Beautiful, young—”
    “Mulish,” Ben said.
    “Say rather she’s… an independent thinker,” Dunstan said, smiling.
    Roderigo suddenly turned on him. “With quite a bit of help from you, Dunstan. You’ve filled her brain with unfortunate ideas, nephew. Twas not helpful to her or me.”
    “Uncle,” said Dunstan, “if knowledge be port, Rebecca be a drunkard. The girl soaks it up. Better she be tutored by a kinsman than a stranger who will lure her away from family—”
    “Enough of my family matters,” Roderigo suddenly announced. “It’s my problem and
I’ll
do what’s best for my daughter…. We must concentrate on the problem at hand. There are lives to be saved.”
    “Here, here,” said Aben Ayesh. “People are dying! We must save them. As Raphael’s brother, Miguel still is the logical choice.”
    “Miguel? Bah!” Dunstan exclaimed. “Better to send Rebecca.”
    “Miguel has always been trustworthy,” answered Jorge. “I’m sure he’d be willing to continue his brother’s missions. To suggest him a coward, Dunstan, because of his… his peculiar passions, is ill-advised.”
    “Very well,” Dunstan said. “If you think him able—”
    “He
is
able,” Jorge said. “Do you agree, Solomon?”
    “We are in complete accord,” said Aben Ayesh. “It is settled. We shall talk to Hector and Miguel immediately.”
    “At least Miguel will have something in which to prove his manhood,” Dunstan snickered.
    Thomas said, “Need I remind you that Miguel is tall and strong. He excels at hawking. He relishes the thrill of the hunt!”
    “Aye,” Dunstan laughed. “As long as the hunt is for boys.”
    “Men,” Thomas corrected.
    “There’s a difference?” Dunstan said.
    “A boy is your five-year-old son, brother,” Thomas said. “Miguel fancies men. Always has. Tis hard to fathom why God fashioned him as such. One would think him weak and timid. Yet Miguel’s grip is as strong as the peregrine’s.”
    “Miguel is weak in the art of swordplay,” Dunstan said.
    “So are you,” Thomas stated.
    “Quiet,” Jorge said to his sons. “Both of you are like jackals at each other’s throats.”
    Roderigo said, “Dunstan raised a good point. Miguel is weak in his swordsmanship. Considerably weaker than had been Raphael, God rest his soul. And many were better than he had been.”
    Jorge agreed. He said, “Thomas, it’s up to you to teach him your expertise.”
    “I’ll set up regular times to spar with him,” Thomas said.
    “Instruct the woman to act the man,” Dunstan said with a smile.
    “Does jealousy talk?” Thomas asked his brother.
    “I? Jealous of Miguel? Absurd!”
    “You have yet to forgive him for the pouncing he bestowed upon you at our last wrestling bout.”
    “Wrestling for sport is one thing, Thomas,” Dunstan retorted hotly. “Braving peril is quite another and is reserved for only true men.”
    Jorge wagged an angry finger at Dunstan. “Keep your thoughts to yourself, my elder son. Sport with Miguel as well. He needs much practice if he is to be prepared for the ordeals