Before The Mask by Michael Williams Read Free Book Online Page A

the
     augury of instinctthat sometimes, in the instant before a voice rose or a hand descended,
     something undefinable in his father's face would either emerge or go away. It was his
     sense of this that had preserved him from Daeghrefn's enraged
    beatings and deprivations.
    Verminaard had felt the outburst approach like the gathering of the mountains before an
     avalanche, when sound at the timberline rises beyond hearing until it is sensed only at
     the edge of the bones. When Daegh-refn had struck the table, Verminaard was already
     steeled, watching the others closely, learning the new terrain.
    It was the boy, the Solamnic, who bore the most notice. Though the knightly training
     masked his fear, fear was there nevertheless. The pale eyes had widened just barely; the
     faint smell of salt sharpened the air.
    Oh, yes, Aglaca was afraid. And Verminaard made note of that, for in a castle where
     uncertainty was the master, fear was the coin of the realm.
    Verminaard glanced with great care at his father, and then at Aglaca again. From the
     slightest rise of the new boy's shoulder, Verminaard knew he still had not unclenched his
     right fist.
    Dinner ended abruptly when Daeghrefn rose from the table and stalked to the hearth, empty
     wineglass clutched in his battle-scarred hand. He slumped into a low, straight-backed
     mahogany chair. The dogs skulked away, from him and the pigeons in the rafters fell quiet.
    It was Robert's cue to stand up, to lead Aglaca up the stairs to his new lodgings.
     Verminaard's heart rose with them as the old man guided the noble hostage toward bed, for
     the stairway they chose led to only one suite of rooms, high in the western tower of the
     castle.
    To Verminaard's room. If Father had decided to move Aglaca into Verminaard's quarters,
     Abelaard's rooms, now empty, would fall to Verminaard by right.
    The room is yours! the Voice coaxed, singing in a dark minor melody, rising from nowhere,
     as though the table itself were talking. Yours now by right as the eldest. Did I not tell
     you? Ask him; ask him....
    It was a small triumph, Verminaard knew. He did not understand why he was so delighted,
     why his eyes blurred and brightened and his hand shook as he thought of the prospect.
    He looked for the mage, but Cerestes was gone from the roomvanished suddenly, as though he
     had melted silently through a portal in the air. Only Verminaard and his father remained
     in the dining hall.
    Daeghrefn stared into the dwindling fire.
    For a moment, Verminaard hesitated, clutching the back of his chair unsteadily as he rose
     from the table. Slowly, more for delay than for tidiness, he straightened his plate and
     cutlery, then snuffed the pale candle that guttered beside his cup. The first step toward
     his father seemed as if he were wading through waist-deep snow, but the second was easier,
     and soon, almost suddenly, he stood beside the hearth.
    “Father?” he asked, and slowly, with an old resentment, Daeghrefn's dark eyes rose from
     the fire to stare somewhere beyond Verminaard's face. Then, his gaze unwavering, the
     knight hurled the glittering, faceted goblet into the dying fire.
    The rafters erupted with the rustle of wing beats, with the frightened cries of birds.
     Verminaard winced as slivers of glass knifed through his leggings into his ankles. He
     shifted in fright, in pain, blood pointing the tattered clothe on his shins.
    “What?” Daeghrefn asked with quiet menace, and it seemed as though the fire in front of
     them gasped and guttered and dimmed further, until the room contracted to a wavering
     circle of light. For the first time in hours, Daeghrefn had spoken to his second son.
    “Ththe room, sir,” Verminaard began, and daunted by his own stuttering, fell into silence.
    “ 'Room'?” Daeghrefn's voice was flat and repellent.
    Verminaard backed against the mantle, steadied himself. His ankles stung and nettled. He
     broke into a sudden,