Arrivals_An Accidental Turn Novella by J. M. Frey

Author:J. M. Frey [Frey, J. M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: REUTS Publications, LLC.
Published: 2017-05-22T22:00:00+00:00

Part Four

Kintyre looks in on us soon after that, having finally been released by Velshi and the endless stream of gossipmongers from the village. Together, we walk Pointe back to the stables, where he’s left his horse and, it turns out, his son.

Lewko Pointe is an absolute picture of childish adorableness, and like all children, he gloms immediately onto Kintyre. Kin grimaces, peels the mucky toddler off his boots, and hands him to me. I give Kin my best “we talked about this” glare, and I’m satisfied with my Pair’s wince when he realizes what he’s done.

“Hullo, Master Pointe,” I say, hoisting Lewko onto my hip.

“Hello, Sir Dom,” the boy says, and he’s holding himself stiff. Ah, I guess he still remembers how I treated Forsyth at the last dinner we took together. Children can be very loyal for a stubbornly long time. I’ll have to earn Lewko’s respect if I want it. And I find, I think, that I do.

It’s not like there’s going to be any other children to dote on in Turn Hall, not unless one of my brothers comes to stay with their brood and . . . no, I shudder to think what Vulej’s twin hellions might do to the precious Turn Hall tapestries. Though, it can’t be much worse than what I’m holding now. Lewko is absolutely covered in Library Lion slobber.

“What is—?” Pointe asks, trying to whisk a glob of it out of his son’s hair. He’s interrupted by a rumbling purr deep enough to shake the snow off the eaves of the stables. He whirls around, draws his sword, steps between the Library Lion and me, and yells, “What is that?”

The great cat yawns and flops over onto its back in the snow, brushing its tail through a bank and sending flakes flying into our faces. Pointe splutters and wipes at his eyes. Lewko giggles, and Kintyre, the fool, bends over to scrub at the Library Lion’s tummy. The cat seizes Kintyre in its forepaws, claws sheathed, and tussles with him.

“Me too, me too!” Lewko shouts and wriggles down from my arms. I don’t think Kin will let anything happen to the kid, so I let him go. Lewko rushes past his father and throws himself into the fray, much to the Library Lion’s apparent delight.

“No, wait,” Pointe says, stepping forward, but then stops to watch the cat at play. “Well, I’ll be damned to all seven of the hells,” he says wonderingly.

At length, the groom appears with Pointe’s horse and a smaller pony which is clearly saddled for Lewko.

“C’mon, sprog!” Pointe says. “It’s cold out. Time to go home.”

“Awww, Da!” the boy protests.

“It’s fine. He can—” Kin starts to say, but stops when Pointe holds up his hand.

“Sprog,” he says warningly.

“But if Master Turn says that I can—”

“Nuh-uh,” Pointe interrupts his son. “Master Turn isn’t your father. And your father says it’s time to go. Come on. I’m freezing here, and your mum will have seed cakes cooling on the rack by now.

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