Chapter 27: Eight Weeks: Start

Chapter 27: Eight Weeks: Start

Aaron slipped his feet out from under the covers. His toes curled into soft carpet. He pushed himself towards the edge of the bed. Took a steadying breath. Stood.

Fell to the floor, his legs an untidy heap under him.

Spring gave him about nine weeks to work with. Eight if he was playing it safe, ten if he was confident in his ability to sneak out a side gate the moment he saw Duke Sungs banner flying on the road. Speaking of: he needed to learn what his daddys banner looked like. And where exactly Three Havens was. Given his startling resemblance to the lords son, he found it prudent to avoid that area of the island. So: he had eight weeks, give or take, to leave the capital. Returning to Twokins was never an option. It hadnt been before, and it certainly wasnt now.

He waited until the gray dimness had receded from his vision. Then, using arms and legs and the bed post, he pulled himself to his feet. Through sheer willpower, he stayed on them.

Eight weeks. Hed spent four weeks in bed, so hed give himself twice that to recover. It balanced neatly. He was somewhere safe and warm, and his doctor was good enough for a king. Life didnt come any easier than this; his only job was to get himself well again. Eight weeks would do just fine.

* * *

The first week.

The doctor glanced over his arm like a fishmonger examining his catch. The scuffs on his palm; the bruises on his elbow. No good, throw it back.

I said a week, boy. If you must leave your bed, call someone to assist you.

Sorry, Aaron said. The doctor looked at him. Aaron looked meekly back. The doctor gave him a little packet of medicine, then left. Aaron opened the flap, and sniffed; licked a fingertip, poked at the green powder inside, and brought it back to his mouth. Powdered mothers vine and nightingale herb. For sleep and for pain, then. His aching muscles hardly counted as pain, and hed slept long enough. Aaron tucked the medicine into his growing pocket pharmacy, and swung his legs out of bed. He fell. He got up again.

He made it to the window, unassisted, and rested his head against the cold pane of glass.

He slept. He ate. When next the doctor came, Aaron was sitting in a chair across the room, waiting for him.

* * *

The second week.

Socks. Coat. Sweater, pants, underthings. He kept his dagger with him, curling the braided belt around its plain leather sheath and setting it on the lip of the tub. Hed asked for the weapon back. It had been given to him. Nothing more had been said on the matter.

There were mirrors in the bathing room. Actual glass mirrors, big enough for a man to see his whole self at once. What Aaron saw was this: a boy with wide gray eyes and black hair clinging wetly to head and ears, grown long enough it tickled his neck. He slid his dagger out of its sheath. When he was done, water beads clung to the back of his bare neck, and he recognized the boy in the mirror again. Almost.

It wasnt the Aaron he was used to seeing; it was a younger him, with ribs poking at his skin from the inside. Hed lost weight. Too much weight. Mrs. Summers had washed his clothes for him while he slept, carefully scrubbing the blood stain from the neck of his green sweater. Shed also methodically thrown out every stale roll, every dried out mushroom, and every carefully wrapped corner of cheese hed managed to hoard in his pockets, even the hard to find ones. His pocket pantry was back to square one.

Fortunately, he lived in a place where food was only a deceptively short, excruciating, extremely long and precarious set of endless stairs away.

You all right? Mabel asked, her pen hanging uncertainly above its inkwell.

You could have rung for a servant, John put in. Youre the kings favorite errand boy just now. You can have food delivered to your room.

Aaron did not answer immediately. First, there was the matter of getting his breath back. Then, the small trouble of lifting his head. But the wood grain felt so good against his foreheadso stable, so supportivethat he decided to skip that part.

Right. But this way, he panted, I get food and I remember how to walk.

Mrs. White leapt onto the table, and stretched her neck until the tips of her whiskers tickled against his ear. Hed pet her, just as soon as moving seemed worthwhile.

I think you might want to save the one until after the other, the bakers boy dubiously replied.

Should we be callin someone? Mabel asked. It wasnt him the scribes question was addressed to.

Ill be fine, Aaron said into the table, as the cat licked his damp hair. Just taking a break. Dont mind me.

Were at least gettin you fed. Like my mom says: when a soldiers too dumb for bed, you can at least get them fed, the scribe decided, and was as good as her word.

Aaron picked pieces of meat from his elk stew as John narrated yet another letter.

And my friend Aaron is probably a mule doppel, or some close cousin, because hes down in the kitchen right now even though hes barely been awake a full week.

Aaron didnt like this letter as much as the others.

Of course, now that hes feeling so much better, Ill get a chance to ask him whether it was four assassins or five that he single-handedly held at bay.

The castle at large didnt know hed saved the princess. The Lady had agreed that sharing that information would be quite a bit more trouble than it was worth when it came to dear Markus cover story.

This meant, of course, that everyone knew it. Specifically: everyone knew someone who knew it, in the way that sort of thing worked.

Might have been six, Aaron said. Holding up his head was hard; now that his stew was gone, he stopped trying. His arms were decent enough pillows. Hard to remember. Everything just happened so fast.

You want more of that? Mabel asked.

Ill get it. The bakers boy had taken his bowl before Aaron even had the chance to reply.

The scribe was doodling in the margins of Johns letter home. Little squiggly-lined sea serpents, no two alike. Aaron turned his head, and watched them form.

She didnt seem to know the worst of it, either. Didnt seem to even suspect. No one quite knew how the assassins had gotten in that nighteven so neglected, the Letforget should have been enough to keep a few scruffy doppelgngers from crawling under the castle doors.

How long before the fey-marked girl started questioning that for herself? The old ways didnt seem to be common knowledge. Likely no one thought he knew about them. It was a piece of the puzzle that she held, and no one else.

Aaron swallowed. I can be gone by the morning. If you would be kind enough to give me that long, Your Highness.

Her hands stopped where they were. Outside, the same muffled boots that had gone past a minute ago were returning. A guard, making their patrol. She heard it, too; her fingers curled, just a hair more tightly.

He didnt want to hurt her. But he didnt want to die, either; and with his Death not in the room, he knew that something was going to give, and soon. He was going to survive this.

Loyalty is an earned thing, she said, her hands balled on the pillow. You said that to me, back in the hayloft. Then you saved my life. So. Youve earned mine, I mean. It was one of the most inelegant, hesitant things he had ever heard her say. Aaron peeked out from under his arm again.

What now? he asked. Do we tell the rest of your family?

He wouldnt mind being Aaron again. Especially if the people who knew could protect him from certain Ladies who might be feeling betrayed.

No. No, she stared down at him, aghast. That would be That is, the way you killed that woman, you were so quick and she was so quick but you won, so, what I mean to say is: youre not a very good person, are you?

Not really, he agreed.

And you do look like Markus. To fool the Lady, you must. Do you know why you do?

No, it wasnt something hed had much time to think on, really. It wasnt something hed wanted to think on.

So we wouldnt want anyone thinking too hard about it, then, she said.

Im no doppel, he said.

Of course not. A doppelgnger wouldnt live as you do. You would have Markus memories, so you could have simply killed him and taken his place, at least until the corruption showed. Youve clearly been living as some kind of villain, instead.

Thanks, he said, and she blushed.

I didnt mean it that way.

He was fairly certain she meant it exactly that way. But what was there for him to say? It was the truth.

The point is, they would wonder. They might even lock you away.

Again.

Again, she agreed. If they found proof you were a doppel

Im not.

Or

Or glamoured by fey, or a cait sidhe on one of his nine turns, or a fox playing at illusions, or anything else. Im only me.

then they would have to execute you. And if they found proof that you were a murderer

She paused, as if expecting him to protest again. He did not.

Well, theyd have to execute you then, too. My father couldnt just ignore evidence like that, not even for someone who saved his daughter.

So what do we do, then? He was asking a thirteen-year-old this question. Asking it, and hoping that she had an answer. What was the hardest thing shed ever dealt with in her life as a princess? How to find food for a night, before her brother started sneaking snacks to her?

How long were you going to stay? she asked.

Six weeks more, he said. Maybe five.

Well, she said, then you need to learn to read. Markus can read.

The bed sprang up as she slid off the edge. A moment later she was back, with her heavy book in tow.

Is six weeks enough for that sort of thing? he asked, dubiously squinting down at the minuscule black lines hand-inked on a page.

Dont worry, she said. Its really quite easy. I learned when I was three.

What book is this? he asked.

She blushed, and this time he was sure he saw even her wine stain darken. Thats not relevant, for your first lesson.

Ludicrous, shed called it. He wondered if ludicrous meant distinctly unladylike,as well.