p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"It was two hundred miles to London and you had little but the clothes on your back, four shillings in your pocket, and a bellyful of youthful indignation. The wind had taken your hat within the first three miles—pity, it was worth a small fortune even this far from the city, and you'd hoped to barter it for coach fare in Greta's Bridge—and the snow was drifting almost to your knees./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You would not have lasted the night if not for Old Browdie, as your children call him. You have always called him John, of course, but they reserve that title for his son. When you met him he was a corn farmer with quick dark eyes and an awkward crowlike gait, limbs too long for his body, and a handful of shrewdly managed investments./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"He rode you down in the fading evening to offer you a fat leather purse and his grandfather's carved walking stick. He'd laughed to hear of your altercation with the headmaster, and laughed harder at your embarrassment, and sworn his friendship ever after. He pointed you to a cottage some two miles down the road that rented beds to travelers for a nominal fee. For a little extra, the proprietors could be persuaded to forget your face./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"The aged couple was gruff with you, it turned out, but generous enough. When you left the next morning, you discovered they'd filled your coat pockets with oatcakes and roasted chestnuts./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"It would take you years to realize that Old Browdie knew your cousin was following you, and meant the walking stick for him. He could not be seen to offer the boy any help directly. He had to live among his neighbors, after all, and his wife-to-be was a childhood friend of the headmaster's daughter./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"That was the first time your cousin saved your life./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"The second night you sheltered in a barn a few hundred yards from the main road. The snow was still falling, though perhaps less bitterly, and your trousers were soaked through. You pulled on a pair more suited for church than weathering a storm of this magnitude, flung yourself into the nearest pile of straw, and fell into an exhausted sleep. The temperature dropped precipitously during the night; ice rattled the windowpanes, and the roof groaned under the extra weight./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You woke a few hours before dawn. You were warm, you realized, truly and properly warm, for the first time since your exile to Yorkshire: it was the wrongness of the sensation that woke you. A woolen cap was pulled snugly down over your ears. You were wearing mittens, and a second pair of socks—and as for your greatcoat, someone had dried it thoroughly and tucked it around your shoulders. The straw was piled into a nest around you, and empty sacking layered like blankets over your coat./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"Shapes moved in the darkness, snuffling and sighing in their sleep. You had never been so close to a herd—this great mass of bodies, each with the strength to crush you a dozen times over, crowded into concentric rings about your makeshift bed. You lost your courage, then, and called out the only friendly name left to you./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"Your cousin hushed you. "'S only cows," he whispered. "They do this anyway, when a bad storm comes through."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You breathed his name again, half-disbelieving. You could not see his face. After a moment, you mastered yourself. "Come kip under here with me. You've got to be freezing."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"He slid down next to you; tears pricked the corners of your eyes. The thinness of his frame was a relief as much as an atrocity—you would recognize it anywhere. The reality of him, the simple animal fact of his body curled up shivering against your back, left you undone. His voice was rawer than you remembered, his jacket damp with fever. You realized with some discomfort that you had no idea whether he wanted to lay down beside a man he'd witnessed in deadly violence, or whether he'd merely obeyed out of habit./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"He must have felt your shoulders stiffen. "I'm sorry," he choked, "I'll go."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""Don't." The word was out before you could stop yourself. "I mean, don't go on my account. If emyou/em want to, obviously...yes, of course. Or else—that is to say, I could take a turn out on watch, let you rest up a bit. It's only fair."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"He rested his forehead between your shoulder blades. Faintly, he shook his head. You held yourself very still. Moisture seeped through the back of your shirt. You tried to remember the last time you'd seen him tremble like this—there was more to it than the cold./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""Are you badly hurt?" you asked at length./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"He was quiet for a moment. "Not badly, no," he faltered. His breath tickled the back of your neck. "Are you angry with me?"/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You chuckled low in your throat. "emAngry/em with you?—God Almighty, you emare/em a silly fellow." You rolled over to face him. "What reason on earth could I have to be angry with you?"/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""You emsmell/em angry," he mumbled./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You forced yourself to relax your shoulders. "I thought I'd lost you for good," you admitted at last. Now he was here, you couldn't get him warm, and on top of it all you'd frightened him./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"He rested a hand on the side of your face, as though to reassure himself you were real. "You never lost me," he told you firmly, "you only thought you had." Gently, as though you were a child, he brushed a callused thumb across your cheek. Your own father had done the same, once, when you were small and fretful. /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""But I should have brought you with me," you whispered, hoping he would hear the apology that tightened against your throat./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""You promised you would meet me in the world," he said instead, "and now you have. Try to get some rest, Nicholas."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"He fell asleep against you just like that, head tucked under your chin. You lay awake for some time after, listening to the low steady breathing of the animals and the occasional musket-crack of a tree shattering under too much ice./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"That was the second time he saved you./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"In the morning he laid out breakfast, hawthorn berries and juniper, twice-poached acorns, precious rings of dried apple, the last of the oatcakes, a handful of cress. In the night, he had dried your clothes between the mute beasts. You told him he was ingenious. He shrugged. "Better cows than pigs," was all he could say on the matter./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You were resolved to track down his next of kin, if for no better reason than to shame them for their neglect. One way or another, you swore, you would help him find his home./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"He brushed off your vain promises. "You emare/em my home," he told you. There was a stubbornness in him then that you had not reckoned on. Here, you thought, was a young man who could emchoose/em to misunderstand you if the mood so took him—and would, and knew it, and made sure you knew it too./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"So that was that. You were his home, and you were headed to London, and so was he./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You started off not long after sunrise—and happily enough, all told. You had a friend, and coins in your pocket, and a better breakfast than you'd seen all month. His fever was down. Trees gleamed in the pale sunlight as though their branches had been dipped in glass. A hard crust atop the snow allowed you to walk easily upon it rather than picking your way through wagon ruts or trudging in thigh-deep drifts. Your cousin even taught you to find wintergreen berries. It was good territory for them, he said—you could tell by the birds. He pointed out a half-dozen different species, though he'd made up his own names for them./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"Lord, you thought, Kate was going to emadore/em him./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You passed a frozen pond just after lunch and tried to explain to him about ice skating. He didn't seem to believe you, but you were in high spirits and ill-inclined to put up with skepticism. You took him out on the ice, supporting him with one arm, and spent a happy half-hour teaching him to slide about on his boots./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You were heading back to the main road when you spotted one of his piss-holes in the snow. You stopped. Your cousin limped up behind you, still panting with laughter after his exertions. "What is it?" he asked, the smile wilting from his face as he caught the tense set of your shoulders./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You pointed. You did not know what else to do. He shrugged, forced a conciliatory smile, mumbled something about squandering daylight and miles to go./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""You told me you weren't injured," you said, as evenly as you could manage./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""I'm emnot/em."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""You're passing blood with your water," you observed with deliberate patience. Your own father had done the same, just before the end./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"It took him a moment to work out what you meant. When he did, his face went carefully blank. "For pity's sake, Nicholas, it's only been three days!"/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"That settled it. "We are walking to the nearest inn and we are staying there—with you, my friend, on the strictest of bed rest—until you are quite well again."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""You can't afford it. For that price, you might as well take a coach straight back to London." He glared at you then, as though you were being stupid on purpose./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"It was beneath your dignity as a gentleman to curse under your breath. You did so anyway. It had only been a month; you were still thinking like a rich man./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""I'll be better in a day or two," your cousin promised, more gently this time, "it never takes much longer than that. But if it makes you feel better we can set up camp early tonight—I've been meaning to catch us some fish."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You tried to take him at his word. By mid-afternoon, however, his eyes were bright and glassy with fever. A fresh snow had started to fall. You begged a ride from a newlywed couple in a horsedrawn sledge, and surprised yourself when you told them you were headed for the King's Head inn. All told, it was some fifteen miles out of your way, but they were able to drop you not four miles off with a nip of brandy and best wishes for luck. You slid an arm under your cousin's shoulders and half-dragged, half-carried him for the better part of an hour. The weather turned bitter. Snow froze in your beard and eyelashes./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"It occurred to you, belatedly, that he stood more in need of Old Browdie's walking-stick than ever you had./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You don't remember the rest. There might have been an aging farmer with a face like a turnip who offered you a ride in his ox-cart—but you faced other squalls on your journey to London, and his act of charity might have punctuated any of them. It was already dark when you struggled up that last icy hill to the King's Head, saw the parlor-lights doused, and pounded on the ash-wood door with a cry of despair./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""I am a friend of Mister Newman Noggs," you shouted above the wind. "He said I might seek shelter here!"/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You stood there for some minutes, too cold even to shiver, your cousin half-conscious in your arms. Then a hatch slid open near the top of the door. "Did this Mister Newman Noggs say which castle stands nearest?" a man's voice inquired within./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You struggled to remember—Barclay or Bartleby, something like that. "I have it all down in a letter," you replied, nonplussed. "Please, sir, my friend is very ill."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""Leave off your foolin' and get them inside," a woman's voice scolded. "Boy calls down a storm like this when he's feverish, imagine what will happen if we let him freeze to death on our doorstep."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You heard a bolt slide in its lock, the creak of a wooden bar. A moment later, you and your cousin tumbled indoors with a substantial quantity of snow. The woman wasted little time brushing the remaining rime from your clothes, hanging up your coats and hats, and ordering you to stamp your feet. She grabbed a broom and swept the snowdrift back outside, then shut and barred the door behind you. The front hall was utterly dark./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""Boots by the door," she instructed in a tone that brooked no argument./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""Yes ma'am," you murmured, despite yourself. You kicked off your own boots readily enough, but you had to help your cousin with his. The laces were frozen, and his knuckles swollen red and stiff under his mittens. The boots were better quality, you realized, than the mismatched pair he'd worn back on the estate, and they fit him properly. Someone had tried, clumsily, to make them look worn./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""And they'll be needing a light, of course," she said, turning briefly to the man—the innkeeper, you supposed, a broad bearded man with well-callused hands. "You'll forgive us, of course, we only light the lamps when we're open for guests./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"The innkeeper uttered a shrill chirping noise in the back of his throat. A moment later, a match flared to life with a soft hiss. An oil lamp cast its buttery-gold glow over the entryway. You slipped your valise strap over your shoulder, pulled your cousin to his feet./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"The woman must have been older than you guessed. She'd left a walking-stick leaning beside the door, and she tapped it against the walls as she led you through an empty barroom to their private kitchen. The man chirped twice more, straightening tables and chairs as he passed. It was an unusually neat establishment, you realized—not a bottle out of place./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"The kitchen was larger than you'd expected, half taken up by coal-fired griddles and a claw-foot iron stove the size of a bedframe. A fire blazed cheerily in the hearth; the innkeeper settled you on a wooden bench beside it and tromped up a narrow staircase, clicking again in the back of his throat. Steam rose from your shirt. Your cousin dozed fitfully against you. The woman bustled back and forth through the kitchen, lighting cold stoves and hauling water by the bucketful from the back pantry. You thought you heard her counting under her breath./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""Might I be of some assistance, madam?" you asked, remembering at last your manners./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""You may put the kettle on and help your friend out of his clothes—what passes for them, anyhow." She paused, her face clouding over in an expression of deep concentration. "Four," she murmured to herself. "Demme it all, it emmust/em have been four." She patted the low table til she came to the wall, then ran her fingertips along it to a shelf of jars. br /br /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"The kettle you could manage without jostling your cousin overmuch. You suspected she was humoring you. You had never given a thought to servants before—or to innkeepers' wives, for that matter—but you felt strangely uncomfortable sitting idle while another saw to your needs./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"Perhaps it was your cousin's influence. He'd followed you about like a lost puppy during those last two weeks up on the estate—and taken a great many stripes in consequence, though you hadn't realized right away. Even after you begged him to stop, to visit you only in secret, you'd often come back from lessons to find your shirts washed and starched, your overcoat brushed, a fire built up in the corner stove./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"(This morning again he'd begged for you to take him as your personal manservant, and you understood, with an ugly chill, that he calculated his own value solely by his usefulness to his masters. "You will be my brother and friend," you'd told him instead, dismayed by how his face fell at your pronouncement. "This world will deal with you as it does with me." But you had posed him an impossible riddle; he would not rest until you let him carry your valise.)/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"The innkeeper thumped back down the stairs with a dark bundle in his arms. He counted out a pair of nightshirts, two dressing gowns, and fresh stockings for the both of you. Then he chirped, emptied the firewood from a tin washtub, and brushed it clean of ash and splinters. Behind you, the lady of the house cleared her throat meaningfully; abashed, he stacked the kindling neatly by the wall and swept the remaining mess into the hearth./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You opened your mouth to protest. The innkeeper arched his brows. "Does the colour not suit the young gentleman?—not that I would know, mind."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""Sir," you managed around your shock, "I emcouldn't/em—"/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""They were my oldest's," he returned gruffly, "and emhe/em ain't using 'em anytime soon."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"Your gaze fell on the empty washtub. Gathering your last shreds of dignity, you replied, "What I mean to say is—forgive me if I've given the wrong impression—but we haven't money to spare for luxuries. A room and a meal is all we ask."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""You'll both of you have a good wash before I let you anywhere near my linens—yes, emyou too/em—and no arguments, you smell like a barnyard. I run a clean house, and I intend to keep it that way." She ambled over and dropped a bundle of yellow herbs tied in cheesecloth into the tub. "There," she said with some satisfaction. "That should numb the sting a bit, much as anything can. I shouldn't dare give him willow with a bleed like that, and we don't keep poppy in the house." She passed a mug of hot cider into your hands, pursed her lips, and jerked her chin at your cousin. "I thought I told you get him out of his wet things."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You flushed. "Begging your pardon, ma'm, but is there a screen I might set up for him?"/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""It seems your friend—emMister/em Newman Noggs—neglected to tell you the most important aspect of the King's Head Inn," she remarked with a wry smile. "We'll be wanting to examine that letter of yours directly." She turned to the innkeeper with some sternness. "Solomon, I'll need you to help me with the pots, you know I can't see water once it's properly boiled."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"Obediently, you opened your traveling case and extricated your father's Bible. You flipped to the book of Psalms. You'd been told they were a comfort in bereavement—and in a way they were, as you could run your fingers over the passages your father marked and read the notes he'd penned in the margins. You'd been using Newman's letter as a placeholder between Psalms 90 and 91, between which he'd scrawled, emfor times of danger and uncertainty/em. Remembering the couple's first absurd question, the one that had bought you shelter from an inclement night, you ran a quick eye over the postscript and announced, "Barclay Castle."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""Pardon?" the mistress of the house inquired./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""This inn is in the vicinity of Barclay Castle—or the ruins of it, I suppose. I'll admit, I saw nothing of the sort on the journey."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"The man's expression grew at once serious and unreadable. "Spell it," he commanded./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You complied, not a little baffled, then sipped at the cider. It wrenched from you an involuntary moan; you felt more human at once. You tried to rouse your cousin to drink down his portion, succeeding after a moment's sluggish protest. "If you don't mind me saying, I could set up a curtain for my friend, if there's no screen in the house./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""He won't be needing one," replied the innkeeper drily. The kettle emitted a shrill whistle. The woman tapped her way over to the fire, removed the steaming vessel to the nearest table, and plucked the letter from your fingers as she passed./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"Clearly, they weren't about to give your cousin his privacy. You hesitated a moment, mortified, trying to discern whether he'd be more shy of letting two strangers see his crooked legs or his crooked back. But the innkeeper's wife was right, you scolded yourself, the wet clothes emweren't/em doing him any favors. "Shirt first," you whispered to him, "or trousers?"/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""My shirt—" he whispered back, turning his face from you. "I can't, Sir—I've tried, but it won't—"/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You set your jaw, suppressed the wince trying to work its way up your neck. You were back to emSir/em again, when just this morning you were Nicholas. "It's all right," you reassured him. "I'm offering to help you." You reached for the buttons on his jacket and he flinched from you. "It's all right," you said again, though you had a feeling that it wasn't, not really—but emneeds must/em, as they said in Yorkshire./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You unbuttoned his jacket and this time he let you, though he gave vent to a low miserable whine when you eased it down over his shoulders./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"He was doing his best to please you, even now./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"The shirt beneath was yellowed and filthy, with stiff black stains down the back. It took you nearly a minute to place the smell. Wound care up at the estate had been brutal and efficient, especially when left up to the younger boys—cuts were smeared with brimstone and treacle, clotted with spiderwebs, and let alone to heal or fester as they would. Usually, they festered./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"Gently, you lifted the hem of his shirt; he made a noise like a broken-legged dog and clung to you, then. "I won't look," you promised him, but he pressed his forehead into the hollow of your clavicle and embegged/em./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"Trousers, then./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You knelt before him and peeled off his socks. He kept a hand braced against your shoulder. You turned your head; you had, after all, just given your word. The woman passed Newman's letter over the spout of her teakettle, and you found yourself too wrung out to protest. The innkeeper stumped back and forth, ferrying boiled water over to the steaming washtub, then tested the temperature with the back of his hand and added a fresh half-bucket of snow. It was ready, he told you. Shakily, you worked loose the knotted rope your cousin used for a belt and helped him to his feet. He stepped free of his garments. The shirt was enough, you hoped, to protect what was left of his modesty./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"Out in the parlor, a grandfather clock chimed six. "Too late for tea, I s'pose?" Solomon remarked dolefully./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""Not too late to lay out tea and call it supper," the woman replied, proffering the letter. "Here, dry your hands and have a read of emthat/em." She rose and, counting her paces, bustled in and out of the larder with astonishing efficiency. You could not help it; your stomach gave loud complaint at the mention of a proper meal. Between trips, she stopped and passed you a pair of women's shears, suitable for dressmaking and the like. "You'll be needing those, I'll warrant," she told you with some /br /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"The couple grumbled between themselves over bread and broth and onion poached in milk. The man paced in the dim kitchen, running his fingers over the letter and tutting to himself at each line./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"Your cousin braced himself against you as though you were partners in a waltz; you supported him as he limped over to the tub. You kept your gaze fixed firmly on his face. You had given your word you would not look. You had every intention of keeping it./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"Climbing in, he nearly lost his footing. You moved to catch him, ease him carefully into the water, and that was how you saw./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"(The backs of his knees. The eminside/em of his thighs. And his feet—God, it looked like he'd walked to London and back with his boots full of broken glass.)br /br /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"(The root cellar. God, the root cellar. While you sat scribbling at your desk in the dormitory, he was down there with—)/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"(With—)/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"(It wasn't the headmaster's style.)/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""I'll help you with your shirt now," you said, and you were surprised at how calm you sounded./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""You emcan't/emspan style="font-style: normal;"./span" His voice broke./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""For goodness sake," you protested, "what else is there left to see?"/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""It's not about that," your cousin said. "You just...can't, that's all."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"The shirt, you discovered, had to be cut off him. There was cloth worked into the scabs; you left great patches of it stuck to his skin. He huddled in the water, jaw set, looking anywhere but at you. Steam rose sharp and sweet and aromatic as sun-hot pine needles. You soaped a flannel and passed it to him./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""Leave off on that for now," the woman called to you. "Let the medicine do its work—I'll tell you when it's time." She tapped over and passed your cousin a dish of soft onion—for fever, she said—then busied herself with the tea./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"Solomon brought you a plate piled high with buttered bread and cold beef and a half-dozen other delicacies. You wiped the soap off your hands and shoved a slice of bread into your mouth, grunting your thanks. Then the couple settled into the nearest chairs with their own meals./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"The woman cleared her throat. "Now then, to business," she said briskly. "I am Sarah King, owner and proprietor of this establishment. This is my confederate, whom you may call Solomon. And you, I'm given to understand, are a young man of exceptional talent. You came up in one of the Yorkshire schools, yes?"/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You'd already opened your mouth to correct the misunderstanding when you realized she was speaking to your cousin. He eyed her warily and, when she persisted, offered a noncommittal shrug. He slurped at his onion like a common dullard./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""I should imagine it wasn't much of a school, but they would have called it one," she went on as though he'd given full answer. "Once you are well, I will want a full accounting of the place—but that can wait, of course. In the meantime, my associate and I are prepared to make a formal offer of hospitality. You will have our aid, shelter, and protection until such time as you are fit to travel. For your sake, we will extend the same courtesy to your companion, for all that he's a Nickleby."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""A Nickleby who's emcrossed/em a Nickleby," Solomon added darkly./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""That endears him to me somewhat," Mistress King remarked, the corner of her mouth twitching with suppressed amusement. "Still, it will be risky to shelter him long."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"Your cousin frowned and passed you his empty bowl. "Mister Nickleby has been very good to me, ma'am."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""Well, this Nickleby emis/em a gentleman, and no mistake," she replied in a tone that seemed to suggest the average gentleman would be unable to find his own face with a mirror and both hands. She turned to you with some sharpness. "Be that as it may, I expect you to refrain from thievery, drunkenness, and slovenly habits whilst under my roof."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""emAnd/em to pitch in on his fair share of the work," Solomon added. "Make sure he's clear on that."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You graced them with your most courteous smile, acutely aware of your bedraggled state. "Naturally—but we are not without coin, of course. We intend to pay you fairly."br /br /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""That is not how an oath of hospitality works, young man," Mistress King said with some asperity./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You coloured under your damp collar. "I apologize if I have given offense," you replied, because that's what your father would have said. Your voice was still mild, like his. The brute in you, the one you hadn't known existed, had been wrestled back into its cage—and there it would stay, you promised yourself./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"Solomon offered up a smile, though he did not look at you. "You can pay us in information, boy, and we'll call that fair enough—provided you work, of course, and behave yourself." He returned to his own meal, and after some time he got up to help Mistress King tidy away the mess./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You tried to persuade your cousin to try little bites off your plate: half a boiled egg, a sliver of cheese, a ring of pickled onion. He picked at your offerings, complained that he was full, and finally pushed your plate away when you persisted. You sighed that just this morning, he'd told you he wasn't injured./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""I emforgot/em," he grumbled, dabbing clumsily at his legs with the soapy rag. At length, he promised to tell you when he was next hungry, if it pleased you so to see him eating./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"It was better than being called emSir/em./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You rolled up your sleeves, tested the water, and poured a warmer bucket into the bath. Your cousin gasped and gave a full-body shudder. The windowpanes rattled in a sudden gust. "Will you let me see to your hair?" you asked quietly. He might have recognized it as an olive branch, though perhaps he acquiesced as apology of his own. Gently as you could, you scrubbed his scalp and worked a comb through his matted tresses. Some of the elf-knots were intractable, and had to be snipped away with Mistress King's shears. He rested his head against you while you combed out several species of vermin. Gritty grey suds trickled down his neck; you wiped them away before they reached his shoulders./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"His hair, you discovered, was a light chestnut blond, barely a shade darker than your own. He held his nose and submerged himself to rinse off. The mistress gave you a bottle of evil-smelling brown oil and showed you how to work it through his hair—it would stain, she warned you, but it would kill any nits that remained in the roots./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"(You should have started on his back, then. The sores on his feet he could manage for himself, but his back— You were distracting yourself and you knew it.)/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"(You could not put this off forever.)/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"Instead you dried your hands and fetched the shaving kit from your valise. He craned his neck to watch you, and you gave him your most encouraging smile. "When you are well, I will teach you to do this for yourself," you said, working up your lather in a shallow dish. You brushed it onto his face and neck, sharpened your razor, let him rest his head back against your chest. Your shirt was ruined already, you reasoned. Another brown splotch could scarcely harm it further. Worried he might startle, you let him see the blade and offered some pointless babble about the pleasure of a good shave./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You needn't have fretted. He relaxed against you, nearly limp in the water; you had to support the back of his neck with your free hand. By the time you'd finished, rinsed your razor, and wiped his face clean, he was drowsing again./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You nudged him awake and fetched the hand-mirror from your shaving kit. "Here," you said, passing it to him. "When we go out in the world together, people will see two gentlemen with their whole lives before them."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"He did not exactly admire himself; his face was all hard gaunt angles—though now, you realized, so was yours. He tilted the mirror so he could see both your faces side by side. He had Kate's button nose, your father's soft dark eyes. You might have been brothers./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"Sarah—no, Mistress King, you did not mean to think of her as Sarah—lay a hand lightly on your shoulder. "It's time," she told you, though really it was past time, and no use pretending otherwise./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""I can't," you said./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""I'll do it," she informed you grimly, and there was something in the set of her mouth that told you she'd never expected you to go through with it. "What I need you to do is hold him."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You shook your head. You could not bring yourself to speak./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"But your cousin, damn him, thanked her for her help and laced his fingers through yours. "It's all right, Nicholas, you won't have to—I won't, you know, so that you'd have to—I can keep still on my own, without you," he reassured you. He took both your hands; you did not pull away. You knelt there on the wet floor beside him, as though in prayer. He drew you close, forehead to forehead. "Just—stay here and talk to me," he whispered. "Tell me about your family."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You nodded, trembling like he should have been, your eyes shut tight./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"(Blood and lymph and drowned lice in the water, and your mind so carefully blank.)/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"(You might have told him about your father.)/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"After, when—/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"(No.)/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You can only say that there was an after./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"(Sitting by the fire with your face in your hands, no memory of bathing but your hair is damp and you no longer smell like an animal. Your cousin resting upstairs, salved and bandaged and fever finally broken, no memory of carrying him up but he would never have let the innkeeper touch him. The warmth of strong spirits in your belly, no memory of drink but your mind is hushed and your knees have finally stopped trembling. Solomon settled across from you, sprawled like a king in Sarah's rocking chair, no memory of how they becameem Sarah/em and emSolomon/em but the cut across your face has been seen to and he lit your pipe when your own hands proved unsteady.)/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"It was Solomon who roused you, showed you the double shadow you cast on the floor—one straight and strong, the other bent and crooked. And you knew that the second one was your cousin's, that he came looking for you because he knew that you were hurting. "You mustn't let him do that," Solomon told you. "It will make him very ill—it has made him ill already." /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"They had laid him in an old-fashioned four-poster bed with heavy curtains drawn tight against a rattling draft. You only meant to sit by his bedside until his shadow had settled safely back into him, but he cried out in preternatural dread and the upper floors of the inn creaked and swayed in a driving wind, and you tossed open the curtains and caught his hand and spoke senseless wretched platitudes until he wept your name, weak with relief. "I'm sorry," he stammered, once he had come more to his senses. "Only it was so dark, and I did not know where I was, and you were—"/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"(emGone./em)/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You understood something of his terror, then. He'd once told you he had no one from home—living or dead—who would come to comfort him as he died, and that if they did, he would be frightened of them, for he would not know them./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You slid into bed beside him and drew the curtains shut behind you. He was on his stomach, propped carefully on pillows and bolsters so as not to aggravate his hurts. You might have begged his forgiveness, then. You might have, but you did not. You lay close to the heat of him, to the animal fact of his body, your heart haunted, your throat thick with misery. "I should have stopped them," you whispered miserably./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""emNow/em who's a silly fellow," he sighed, resting a hand against your aching chest. "You did stop them."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"You were crying, softly. You couldn't remember the last time you cried in front of someone. He forgave too easily, you thought, or perhaps he still didn't understand. "I should have stopped them embefore/em." You didn't mean just the root cellar, but if you said another word you would forfeit all your dignity and wail./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;""You stopped them when you did," he murmured sleepily, nuzzling closer to you in the dark. "You stopped them, and I never have to see them again. That's the part that matters."/p