The Gully Snipe (The Dual World Book 1) (47 page)

“No,” said Thayliss rather emptily. “I kept my attentions to the woods, and sometimes East End.”

Thayliss stood up a little straighter and his voice took on more of a presence. “Have you noticed that bird there in the distance?” he said as he pointed at a large bird soaring over the city.

“No, I have not noticed. It looks like one of the harriers that nest upon the face of Kitemount,” said Thaybrill.

Thayliss shook his head and said, “No, not a harrier. That is what I find curious. It’s a pilcher owl. It’s unusual to see one in the daytime, but this is the third time I’ve seen him flying about in the last few minutes.”

Thaybrill wasn’t sure what was so special about an owl flying about, but he decided to try a different tactic to distract his brother from his melancholy mood.

“Tell me another memory you have of your father, Ollon. Please, Thayliss.”

They both turned and leaned against the wall as they looked up the face of Kitemount and the far taller peak of Thayhold to the left of it.

To Thaybrill’s relief, Thayliss laughed a little and said, “To what lengths shall I need to go to get you to call me Gully, Thaybrill? Or even Bayle? At least when it’s just the two of us. I suppose there are to be all sorts of vexing protocols for referring to one another in front of others, ones that I doubt I shall ever manage to learn. But in private, allow me the name of Gully.”

Thaybrill said, “I like the idea of both of us almost sharing the same name, but I understand your reluctance to accept Thayliss just yet. But as ill-fitting as Thayliss feels to you, so does Gully to me. However, for you, I shall most certainly try. Gully. Now, please, tell me something else of Ollon.”

There was a long pause while Thayliss stared vacantly at Kitemount. The moment stretched and Thaybrill wondered if his brother was going to refuse, or if his request was having an effect counter to what he desired.

But Thayliss stubbed his boot toe absently on the stone of the tower and then spent the next few minutes relating how Ollon taught him to read, starting with recognizing the letters of the alphabet drawn in the dirt outside their cabin, followed by simple words. Once he mastered the words his father wrote in the dirt, Ollon had bought some paper and wrote down a simple child’s tale about a conversation between a mouse and a fox, and then used that to teach him until he could read it for himself.

Thaybrill listened with deep interest, turning a little sad, even a mite envious, at not having the benefit of someone such as Ollon in his own life. But he reminded himself not to be selfish, and to be grateful for the brother whom he did have.

Thayliss grew very quiet, and his eyes became distant, and his words trailed off. Thaybrill waited a moment, and was about to ask if anything was wrong.

Thayliss suddenly cleared his throat and looked at Thaybrill as if he just realized he was standing there. He said to Thaybrill, “That story of the fox and the pip mouse... I used to not like it very much. Because of our fox, or my father in reality, Pe’taro, I always thought the fox should be the hero of the story. My father would laugh and laugh at me and tell me that Pe’taro was a very good fox, not like the one in the story. But the moral of that child’s tale was the one he would tell me often — that whom a man chose to be was more important than whom he was born.”

Thayliss stared at the mountains a moment more and repeated the words, “We are all born somebody, but whom you choose to become is all that matters.”

The remarkable relationship that Thayliss, or Gully, shared with his adoptive father set off a deep, smoldering longing inside of Thaybrill once again. The whole idea that his father was a man and a fox at the same time was unbelievable, and he would have dismissed the idea except for the fact that he had seen two men turn to wolves and back in front of his own eyes — fierce men that would put fear into others, even without such abilities. Thaybrill had his own misgivings over the gypsy clan from the woods, and would never have trusted a people with powers such as these, were it not for Thayliss’ absolute faith in them. In a way, Thaybrill felt like his brother belonged everywhere, while he had never belonged anywhere.

“I trusted him,” said Thaybrill. “Even when I had doubts in the back of my mind, I always assumed it was because he must be aloof and severe for my benefit. Doubly so since he was not my true father.”

“Of whom do you speak, Thaybrill?”

“The Domo Regent, of course — Krayell, the man who was the closest thing that I’ve had to a father. You see how my faith in him was rewarded,” said Thaybrill with shame. “I looked on the monster that murdered our parents, and tried to have you killed as well, as my father.”

Gully’s mouth moved slightly, but no words came out. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably.

“You were lucky, assuredly,” said Thaybrill. “Very lucky. You had something honest and full for the years when you needed it most.”

Gully stepped around to face Thaybrill directly. “I am not a good person, Thaybrill. But I swear I will never wrong you intentionally or knowingly. Even if I cannot share the father that I had with you, I can share the sense of family he gave to me.”

Thaybrill grinned weakly, and the words from his brother meant more to him than he could express. Out of his darkest day, the day when he had abandoned hope entirely, he had miraculously found real family. Gully’s words were superfluous to him, but very nice to hear aloud. He had trusted him without reservation the day Gully had saved his life, and that trust had not wavered for one moment since.

Thaybrill noticed his brother studying his face closely. Gully’s hand reached out towards his face, then paused.

“May I?” asked Gully with a nod towards his face.

Thaybrill nodded his reply, and Gully gently touched his face, studying Thaybrill with an intense curiosity. His fingers traced over his twin’s eyes, and down his nose, then around and along his chin. Thaybrill took the opportunity to study Gully in the same way, seeing himself standing before himself.

“I am far handsomer than ever I realized!” commented Gully, causing Thaybrill to laugh aloud. Thaybrill once again had to hold himself back from embracing his brother desperately for these small kindnesses he gave away.

It was not long after that that the Archbishop found them atop the oratory tower and requested their majesties to join him below in the courtyard for some discussion.

As they walked, the Archbishop asked, “I meant to ask earlier, Your Majesty, how your first night sleeping in the king’s rooms passed. Did you sleep well? Were the bed and the rooms to your liking?”

Gully grimaced slightly, then answered, “The rooms and the bed are extraordinarily large. I’m surprised I did not get lost among the cabinets and upholstered chairs and tapestries trying to find the garderobe!”

The Archbishop stopped walking and seemed horrified. “They... they are not to your liking?” he asked in near distress.

Gully smiled and Thaybrill could not stand by while the hapless man was subjected to Gully’s humor. He said, “Thayliss is simply not used to rooms, or beds, such as what now accommodate him. He has much with which to familiarize himself, Nellist, and we must be patient with him.” He turned to Gully and added, “In the meantime, His Majesty will please remember not to tease our Archbishop thusly.”

As they made their way out of the oratory tower, they passed the back of the throne hall and then exited out into the Courtyard of the Empyrean. Thaybrill heard Gully sigh ever so slightly and his steps slowed barely; he knew his brother would likely never manage to feel any fondness for the courtyard.

Thaybrill followed Gully’s gaze to the arcade walk that edged the ravine, where now there were several of the Kingdom Guard patrolling. The King’s Guard would normally have had this particular duty, but their numbers had shrunk when it was discovered who among them were in league with the Domo Regent. They had been supplemented for the time being with swordsmen from the Kingdom Guard instead.

The Archbishop immediately launched into a description of the coronation ceremony, gesturing from one end to the other as he described the arrival and placement of the eleven noble families of Iisen, then the arrival and placement of Prince Thaybrill, representing the twelfth and royal family, the convocation, the welcoming of the eleven veLohrdan ancestors to witness the crowning of the next in their line, the pledges of fealty by the eleven noble lords, and so on and so forth.

Gully listened listlessly and Thaybrill watched him closely.

Eventually, as the Archbishop was describing his own speech just before he would place the crown on Gully’s head, Gully frowned and interrupted.

“I beg your pardon, Archbishop! Does not all of this seem laughably premature to you?” cried Gully in exasperation. “Why are we bothering with talk of coronations and welcoming stars in the sky to witness ceremonies here below when we may well all be Maqaran slaves within a week? Does this not strike you as a peculiar way to spend our attention?”

Once again, the Archbishop looked terrified at the offense he had caused, but Thaybrill interceded. He said, “Gully,” then glanced sideways at the Archbishop and began again, “Prince Thayliss, there is nothing we can do on that score. That arrow has been loosed from the pulled bow and where it lands, for ill or well, is not in our control anymore.”

Thaybrill gave a silent prayer for Roald’s safety, and everyone’s.

From somewhere near the side of the courtyard, an unexpected voice, gentle and yet impossible to ignore, said aloud, “That is not entirely true, Your Highness.”

By the time Thaybrill wheeled around and found the source of the comment, all he saw were men throwing off the last of their clothing and in the blink of an eye, there were then two large, dark wolves bounding across the stones of the courtyard towards them. He heard a terrified gasp from the Archbishop, and then a sharp voice halted the wolves in their tracks, “Gallun! Gellen!”

The wolves, barely before they were upon Gully, stopped short.

The voice of an old man he had never seen before, at the edge of the courtyard, admonished them again, “Remember Dunnhem’s words! Remember whom he is!”

Thaybrill glanced back to Gully and he almost thought he spotted a glimmer of disappointment that the men who were wolves had not run him down where he stood. The animals looked uncertain for a moment, but then they walked over and stood sheepishly — there was no other word to describe it — next to Gully. They sat upon their haunches and looked up at him in turns, one on each side.

Thaybrill was excited to see that the two remarkable men, good friends of his brother’s, had returned. It was short lived excitement that quickly turned to panic, however. Swordsmen from all around the courtyard were now running towards them, having only seen the appearance of two wolves on the Folly grounds that had dashed straight for the soon-to-be monarch of all of Iisen. The color had drained from their faces and most of them had swords already drawn to try to stop the wolves from attacking the prince regent.

Thaybrill stepped towards them, putting himself between the wolves and the running guards, and yelled at them, “Stop! Do not!”

The prince’s command stopped the guards, who looked at each other in bafflement that the prince seemed to be allowing his brother to be left to whatever mauling the wolves might give.

Thaybrill said to the guards, “It is not what it seems! They are friends and His Majesty is in no danger!”

The quizzical look of confusion on Gallun and Gellen’s faces at why anyone would think they were a danger to Gully almost made Thaybrill laugh.

The Archbishop, terrified at the proximity of the massive wolves and his face as white as his hair, still had his hands over his mouth and had begun to back away slowly from them.

Gully noticed this and said, still a shadow of disappointment in his voice, “You do not need to fear them, Archbishop.” He glanced down at the wolves, whose tongues were lolling happily out of their mouths and added, “This is one of the less spirited greetings I have received from them since I have known them.”

The Archbishop stopped from backing away, but he still said nothing and his hands remained over his mouth. Thaybrill became afraid that the old man would faint dead away at any moment.

Gully said, “This is Gallun and Gellen. They are friends of mine from the gypsy clan that has lived in the Ghellerweald for years now. They are just like us, Archbishop, except that some of them have animal forms as well. These two, as you can see, can change form between wolves and men as they wish.”

The guards that were standing nearby remained unsure how to handle the situation and looked in mixed awe and fear at the wolves, and then at each other in confusion. Gully said to them, “These men, these wolves, are my personal friends. Under no circumstance shall
any
animal be harmed on the Folly grounds! Is that absolutely clear?”

“Yes, Majesty!” barked one of the guards.

Thaybrill added, “Make sure all of the Guard knows this, men, please. These members of the gypsy clan should be allowed free passage in and out of the Folly as they desire, and access to the prince regent anytime they choose.”

“Yes, Highness!” barked the swordsman again.

By now, several other guards had shown up as well, one of whom was Dunnhem from Roald’s squad.

Gully shouted, a smile lighting his face, “Patriarch! Wyael!”

In the corner of the courtyard, Thaybrill spied the old man again, probably as old as the Archbishop but with less belly and more hair, ambling towards them with the aid of a wooden staff. Behind the elderly man was a young boy, who looked so excited that Thaybrill expected him to start spinning like a toy top at any moment. The old man leaned down long enough to whisper something to the boy, who nodded and bolted towards them as fast as his legs would carry him.

Thaybrill could not help but smile to himself as Gully knelt down and held out his arms. Wyael ran to him and Gully gave him a terrific hug.

Dunnhem approached, kneeled briefly, which caused a flicker of a frown on Gully’s face, and said, “Highness, your friends Gallun and Gellen, whom I recognized, arrived at the Folly gate with their two companions. I took the liberty of bringing them in for an audience with you.” He glanced unsurely at the animals next to Gully. “Er... I had no idea, Your Majesty, that they could become wolves like this. I hope I did as you would wish me, Sire.”