Reign of Shadows - Deborah Chester [35]
Putting down his carving knife and the piece of wood, he got up stiffly off his stool and stretched his low back. He and Caelan left the kitchen, with the curious eyes of the others following.
As soon as they were in the passage, safely out of earshot, Caelan gripped Farns’s sleeve. “The arms room,” he said urgently. “I need the key to it.”
Old Farns frowned and shook his head. “Now, it’s too late at night for you to start that nonsense, young master.”
“I must have the key,” Caelan insisted.
“No use for it. No Thyzarenes’ll be coming at night for to scorch us in our beds.”
“Please.”
The old man’s gaze was steady.
Caelan sighed. “This is important. I need—”
Farns raised his calloused hand. “No need for any weapons tonight, now, is there, young master?”
“But—”
“Rules are rules. I can’t give you the key. Not now.”
Frustration built inside Caelan. “I want my bow and arrow and another dagger. You said you’d keep my things safe. I—”
“Aye,” Old Farns said, glancing away. He frowned. “Not tonight.”
“But I need them. Once I tell you what happened—”
“It’s too late tonight, boy. I’m sorry, but I have to enforce the master’s rules especially when he’s home. You know that.”
“Yes.”
“So I can’t take you to the arms room now. It’s too dark to be abroad besides.”
“I’m not asking you to take me,” Caelan said impatiently. “Just give me the key. Father doesn’t have to know.”
Old Farns cocked one eyebrow. “Seems like you’ve been in more than enough trouble lately, young master, without going to look for more. Your father doesn’t want you messing about there anyway.”
“Of course he doesn’t,” Caelan said in exasperation. “He never has, but I need my belongings. I took my dagger to school but I didn’t get a chance to bring it home with me.”
Old Farns made a tsking sound in his throat and shook his head. “There you are. Careless as usual.”
“It wasn’t like that. They expelled me.”
Farns blinked.
Having blurted out the confession, Caelan found himself miserably forced to go on. “Yes, I’ve been disrobed. I can’t go back.”
Sympathy filled the old man’s face. “That’s bad, young master. That’s an awful disgrace for the family.”
“I know, but. . . well, it’s done now. It’s done,” Caelan said with a frown. “Anyway, now Father’s upset with me. He wants to purify me.”
“Ah, no!” Farns said, then glanced around and lowered his voice. “Not for you, my boy. That’s too harsh a way to deal with the itch of adventure in your blood.”
“I’ve got to leave before he goes through with it,” Caelan said grimly. “You understand, don’t you? You do believe me?”
“Aye, of course I believe you,” Old Farns said slowly, puzzling through it. “Belike he’ll change his mind. He’s not so harsh all the time.”
The corner of Caelan’s mouth was still sore from where Beva had struck him. “He means it, all right,” Caelan said. “And he won’t change his mind. Not about this. He’s determined to make a healer of me, no matter what. I can’t make him understand it isn’t what I want.”
“Reckon fathers don’t much care what their sons want,” Old Farns said. “For all of time it’s been the father’s decision to set the son’s course of life.”
“I don’t care,” Caelan said stubbornly. “I want something different, and I’m going to have it.”
“Stubborn alike, you are, both of you,” Old Farns said. “You’ve clashed like bull elk in the forest since the first. It be worse without your sainted mother to step in.”
“It’s never going to get better. Farns, please. I have to go. As long as I’m underage, he can make me do anything he wants. And I can’t go through a purification. I won’t!” Caelan sighed. “I have to strike out on my own now, while I still have a chance.”
Farns gripped his shoulder. “The world’s no place for a young boy not grown and set. There be wars about and hard times. It’s winter and there’s no food aside from what honest folk have put by in storage. You can’t be going now.”
“I have to. Don’t you see? If I hang around, he’s only going to force me—”
“Hush,” Farns said in warning and glanced over his shoulder.
Anya came down the passage toward