Page 57 of Valdemar

“Sable and her kittens are welcome to live here,” Isla told all of them. “If that’s what you want, Jon.”

“I—I do, Mother.” His voice was steadier now—and Sable meowed with what sounded like approval.

“Then it’s settled.” Lythe stood up, and put the basket beside the bed. “You take care of each other.” She caught Isla’s eyes. “Sable will care for the kittens’ messes, and knows to go outside when she needs to. She is a good mouser and ratter, but she will need meat and fish scraps to help her make milk; she’ll get those herself in the kitchen, since the cooks already know her. If you give her scraps up here, make sure they are raw, or haven’t any bones in them. She’ll drink from the same water bowl as the dog.”

Isla nodded that she understood. “When the kittens start to wander, I’ll arrange for a sand box.”

“And I’ll make sure they know they need to use it.”

Kordas saw her to the door and followed her outside, closing it behind them. “Lythe, that was extraordinarily kind and clever of you.”

She shrugged, looking embarrassed. “You’ve already done so much for us. When Delia’s horse—I mean, Companion—told me about Jon, I felt like I had to do something. I felt like I could do something to genuinely help, not just watch. I talked to Sable because she looks exactly like Sydney; and yes, she actually said most of those things. I don’t know how she knew them, but she did.”

“Wait, you can talk to Companions?” he interrupted.

“More like they can talk to me. Sometimes a bit too much. They’re terrible gossips.” She smiled, and shrugged. “They thought my idea of bringing the lad a cat was a good one. Sable was looking for a human to own, and it’s very difficult to stay grief-stricken around kittens who are playing. And of course, I made it right with the dog as soon as I was within Mindspeaking distance of him. He took on, with great resolve I might add, the responsibility of safeguarding all of them when they are vulnerable. I hope you don’t mind that I just did it without asking you first.”

“I can’t find it in me to be even the least little bit annoyed with you,” he assured her. “I had no idea Jon would take it so hard.” And I didn’t know about any of those other things she mentioned! Guilt enveloped him. I am a terrible father.

“Sydney was extraordinary,” she replied, her eyes looking wistful. “So clever I sometimes wondered if he was more than just a cat. Sable seems almost as clever. And she is a great deal less destructive.” She sighed, and smiled at him. “Well, if I have repaid your kindness even in a small way, I’m satisfied. Good night.”

“Good night, Lythe,” he replied. “And thank you.”

He re-entered the suite and went straight back to Jon’s room. He sat down and offered a kitten a finger to play with. I need to approach this carefully, and not set him off again. But I need to know what the hell has been going on with the son I didn’t think I needed to worry about.

“Jon, was all that true, about Sydney befriending you so much?” he asked carefully.

Jon sniffed, but at least didn’t start crying again. “Yes, Father,” he said, concentrating on Sable.

“The bullies?” he prompted.

“After we were here for about a year. Six boys. I didn’t know them very well; they were all older than me. I wasn’t even doing anything, I was just watching the fish in the river, and they just came up, started pushing me around, calling me names, and threatened to shove me over the bank. Sydney came out of nowhere and the first thing I knew, he’d jumped on the biggest one’s back and was clawing his shoulders and biting his ears.” Jon actually smiled a tiny, tiny bit. “He started screaming and flailing at Syd, but Syd just jumped off his back, then—he was like a whirlwind of claws and teeth, tearing up their ankles. They all backed off, and Syd got between me and them and started howling at them. It was such a weird sound! By that time we’d gotten the attention of some of the gardeners, who ran to us to see what was going on, and they ran away.” He took a deep breath. “I never saw them again. I guess they must have been from one of the families that left Valdemar for the north.”

Kordas felt awkward, but tried to cover it by patting Jon’s shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell us about this?” he asked.

“Because that was in the middle of when the wyrsa packs were attacking the farmers.” By this time, of course, thanks to the Hawkbrothers, they had learned what those snake-dogs were. Wyrsa. Unnatural creations that dated to the Cataclysm and before. “You had so much to worry about, and I wasn’t really hurt, and anyway, they disappeared right after that. I didn’t want to give you more to worry about.”

“And here I thought Restil was the responsible one,” he said ruefully. “I wish you had told me.”

“But there was no reason to make you worry, and maybe end up starting trouble with one of the highborn families. Or Restil would call them out, there’d be a fight, and more trouble than that, and it would be Restil that got the blame for the fighting. And besides, I knew Syd would fight for me.” Two more tears crept down his raw cheeks. “And once, I got lost in the hertasi tunnels, and Sydney came and found me when I started to panic.”

In his lap, Sable reached up with one paw, claws carefully sheathed, and patted at a tear.

“Why didn’t you tell us how lonely you were?” Isla asked softly.

“Because there wasn’t anything you could do about it,” Jon said softly. “I just don’t have much in common with a lot of people here. I don’t like games or pranking, or just running about doing nothing but running about. I’m not good at anything but board games. I like to read, but they don’t. I like just sitting and looking at things and watching people, they don’t. But Sydney always seemed to know when I was lonely and feeling sad about it, and he always turned up and kept me company. It’s not as if you could issue an order to make other people like me.”

Kordas felt absolutely stricken. Why hadn’t he noticed all of this?

:Probably because Jon kept it to himself, and all you saw was the good son who was never into mischief and never gave you any trouble,:Ardatha observed. :And he was right. You were very busy, and just grateful that he wasn’t constantly getting into mischief like Hakkon.:

:But being busy isn’t the same as neglect—is it?: Kordas pressed Ardatha.

Ardatha, for his turn, didn’t answer immediately.

:You came close.: Ardatha felt guilty about saying it, but Kordas could tell that his Companion was meticulous about truth, and gave the most candid of opinions. :No one has hours for everything, which is understandable. The difference is, you never forgot about him. You saw to it that he was looked after and educated, and time with you became special occasions to him. I would not call him damaged by your relationship with him, and there is much room for enriching what you have with each other.:

:I can’t believe they teach talking horses diplomacy.: