Free Shadow of the Father by Kyell Gold Page A

stairs. “Barkeep!” he called, walking over to the large stag. “How much would it cost to hire a carriage for Divalia?”
    “Three Royals,” the stag said, “but there isn’t one for—”
    “Your lordship.” Maxon came up behind him. “I had already left enough to hire a carriage for the mouse.”
    “It doesn’t matter,” Yilon said to the stag. “We’ll wait as long as it takes. I can draw on the Treasury if need be. We’ll be staying until the carriage arrives.”
    Maxon cleared his throat. “It is imperative that we reach Dewanne as soon as possible. The passes—”
    “We will only need one room,” Yilon said. “The steward and the guard will be continuing on to Dewanne.”
    The stag looked back and forth between him and Maxon. “Er…”
    “Please excuse us,” Maxon said. “We need to discuss this.”
    “There’s nothing to discuss.” Yilon faced the older fox, finally. “You and the guard can go back to Dewanne. You can find someone else to run your benighted city. Sinch and I are going back to Divalia.”
    Maxon put a paw on Yilon’s arm. Yilon jerked his arm free, but allowed himself to be led to a vacant table. Maxon started to sit down, but Yilon folded his arms and remained standing. Maxon straightened. “You cannot leave the lordship.”
    The guard came in, looking around. When he spotted them, he took up a position behind Maxon. Yilon ignored him. “I don’t want to travel with you any more. I don’t feel safe.”
    Maxon’s eyes flicked back to the guard. “The lordship is a responsibility as well as a privilege,” he said. “You have been chosen to lead the province. You cannot simply abandon it on a whim.”
    “This is not a whim!” Yilon shouted. He got a moment of satisfaction from seeing the steward and guard’s ears pin back. Heads around the tavern turned. The serving rabbit stopped dead with a tray of bread and water to stare at them.
    “Control yourself,” Maxon said tightly.
    “I am in perfect control,” Yilon said. “I am not the only one who lied in order to attempt to leave behind one of my companions.”
    “That is not—”
    The guard touched Maxon’s arm. “We should be on our way, sir.”
    Maxon snapped without turning, “I will tell you when we are ready to leave.”
    The other returned his stare for a moment, then looked down. “Yes, sir,” he said. He turned to leave, but Yilon heard him say, quite clearly, “doesn’t deserve it anyway.”
    The remark nettled Yilon even further, so he glared at Maxon as the thin fox said, “I will not leave here without you. I apologize if my actions appeared malicious, but I can assure you—”
    “Fine,” Yilon said. “You won’t leave here without me. I won’t leave here without Sinch.”
    Maxon took a breath. “If that is how his lordship feels—”
    “It is.”
    They stared at each other. For the first time, Yilon felt that his authority was being tested. He held the steward’s eyes, trying to force his resolve onto the other. Sinch appeared at the top of the stairs, a flicker of grey in his peripheral vision, but he didn’t react. Maxon stared back, brown eyes unblinking.
    Sinch crossed the floor to them, but didn’t get closer than the next table. He looked curiously up at Yilon, but Yilon didn’t shift his gaze. “Is… everything okay?” Sinch said timidly.
    “It’s fine,” Yilon said.
    Maxon coughed. The movement broke his concentration. He looked down, back at Sinch. His ears folded back, but he brought them up quickly. “Everything is fine,” he said. “We are just preparing to leave. If your lordship… and his companion… are ready.”
    Yilon allowed himself a small smile.
    He ignored Maxon for the entire carriage ride that day. When they stopped at an inn, he took the room with Sinch without even asking. The steward, for his part, had withdrawn into himself and his book during the day, even muting his cough. It wasn’t until the following day over lunch, when Sinch had