A Brother's Price

by Wen Spencer

  The siblings took turns swapping newspaper pages between them, occasionally murmuring, “Did you see here that it says…?” and getting their fingers black from the ink. One by one, they finished the newspaper and then hunted through the loose pages, hoping for something they'd missed, something more to read.

  Jerin was beginning to understand why Cullen had been so bored.

  They had hunted out writing paper to play code breaker, devising quick cryptograms and handing them off to the next person to break. Corelle had just won the first round, as usual, when a knock at the door provided a welcome distraction. It proved even more welcome when it turned out to be Cullen and Lylia.

  “We're bored,” Jerin told them. “We just read the Herald to death.”

  “Yes, yes, that's a dead newspaper.” Lylia nudged a rumpled page aside with her foot. “You can read? How wonderful. I've tried to teach Cullen in the past, but he refuses to learn.”

  “You're a lousy teacher.” Cullen pouted. “Besides, what's the point? My wives probably won't let me read.”

  “Why not?” Eldest asked. “Whistler men all read—doesn't make them cross-eyed or sterile or anything.”

  Lylia shrugged. “I guess it's like the poor who don't want their daughters going to school. The girls make more money by working alongside their mothers.”

  “Oh, like you see noblemen out weeding fields every day,” Cullen said.

  “I didn't say it made sense,” Lylia murmured, tweaking him gently with her thumb and forefinger. She turned back to the Whistlers and gave them a bright smile. “How about a tour of the palace?”

  The palace proved to be more rambling than Jerin had imagined. The tour ended in a suite of rooms that his youngest sisters would kill for. Called the nursery, it held a room of fanciful beds, a well-stocked schoolroom, and a playroom. One wall of the playroom contained windows, and the rest of the walls had shelves to the high ceiling, filled with toys. Baby toys were put up, and the floor was now littered with toy soldiers. Tiny cannons, a fleet of warships on a blue painted river, even supply wagons, accompanied the soldiers to war. The five red-haired, youngest princesses, Zelie, Quin, Selina, Nora, and Mira, were just settling down to battle.

  Lylia introduced Jerin to the five, and then went off to chaperone Cullen in the schoolroom with Jerin's sisters.

  Zelie was the leader of the youngest princesses. With a regality that fitted her position, she announced, “We're reenacting the battle of Nettle's Run.”

  Jerin smiled. The soldiers might be tin instead of wood, the cannons might articulate and fire, but it was one of the same battles his sisters engaged in on long winter afternoons. He glanced over the troops. “Where's Peatfield?”

  “What do you know about playing with soldiers?” Mira, the obvious baby of the sisters, asked.

  “My grandmothers were under Wellsbury,” Jerin explained, pointing to the mounted general flanked by her younger sisters. “My sisters and I have re-created this battle, just like this.”

  “But you're a boy,”' Princess Zelie said with puzzlement tinged with contempt.

  “Yes. I find it depressing sometimes,” Jerin admitted.

  “Why?” Quin, or perhaps Nora, asked. The two looked very similar and all the girls had shifted since he'd been introduced to them.

  “There's lots of things I would like to do that I'm not allowed,” Jerin said.

  “Do you want to play?” the other of the two asked.

  “We've already picked troops,” Zelie reminded the others.

  “You don't have Peatfield,” Jerin pointed out. “She was held in reserve for most of the battle. I could play her troops.”

  They consented after a quick check with their history books to confirm Peatfield's existence and the strength of her troops. Almost seventy-five thousand women clashed in the woods alongside the Bright River, leaving nearly ten thousand dead or wounded. It was attributed as a brilliant win for Wellsbury, but luck had played a large part in the victory—Smythe's misunderstanding her orders and withdrawing just as Wellsbury attacked, for instance. Though in truth, the garbled message she received hadn't been the true orders issued. Peatfield's orders too had been waylaid, and thus her reserve troops never entered the battle.

  When played without the sleet, the exhaustion, the lack of food, the poor visibility, the sniper attacks, and the Whistlers confusing enemy orders, the outcome favored the False Eldest's forces. It surprised him, thus, that the royal sisters kept to the same attacks and retreats of the original battle.

  After watching for several minutes, he faked a retreat up Granny Creek, crossed over Blue Knob, and took out the overextended left flank of Wellsbury's force. Zelie shrieked with dismay and literally had the army fly to protect her tin general.

  “No, no, no, you can't do that.” Jerin laughed as he caught a tin soldier that was flying miles across the landscape to land in his path.

  “Yes, I can.” Zelie pushed his hand away to thump the soldier down. “I just did!”

  “No, you can't.” Jerin struggled to stop laughing. “That's against the rules.”

  “You can't talk to me that way!”

  “Good heavens, why not?”

  “I am a princess of the realm,” Zelie explained in perfect princess tones.

  Jerin covered his mouth to hold in a crow of laughter. She was so delightful using the adult deadpan. “Your Highness, the point of the rules is to mimic battle, so you can learn how to fight one without getting everyone killed on your first charge. Your tin soldiers can only do what real soldiers do, because you must learn what your real armies can do. If you cheat, then you're not only cheating on me; you're cheating yourself out of a chance to learn, and you're risking the life of every woman you'll ever command.”

  “But you cheated!” Zelie cried.

  “Oh, there is cheating and then there's cheating. What I did, real soldiers could do, that is, pretend to run away and then attack elsewhere. Real soldiers, however, cannot fly across the battle, willy-nilly.”

  Five serious faces considered him. “So it's all right to cheat sometimes?”

  Oh, dear, Ren probably wouldn't be happy if he perverted her youngest sisters. Still, Whistlers never found a little cheating to be harmful.

  “My mothers always said,” Jerin said carefully, “that those who are completely forthright are often at the disadvantage of those who are corrupt. Here.” He picked up three of the earthen cups that held the cannonballs, passed the cannonballs out to the princesses, and turned the cups upside down. He picked up a marble and showed it to them. “'We're going to pretend your cannonballs are coins. I'm going to put this marble under one of the cups, and shuffle them around. You bet your 'coins' on which cup that you think the marble is under. If the marble is under the cup, then I'll match the number of ”coins' you bet. If the marble isn't under the cup, then I get to keep the 'coins' you bet.“

  He made a show of placing the marble, palmed it, and allowed them to win the first pass by palming it under the cup they chose. After that, he left the marble pocketed and began winning all their cannonballs. Eventually, one of them remembered what had started the game.

  “Wait!” Selina squealed with surprise and dismay. “You're cheating! Aren't you?”

  “Oh, yes. See?” He overturned all the cups. “The marble isn't under any of them. There's no way you can win.”

  “How did you do that?” Zelie asked, chewing on one long lock of hair. “We saw you put it under one of them.”

  So he showed how he could palm the marble, using misdirection and sleight of hand. “The point is, you could have lost all your money, because you thought I was being honest, and you were playing fair. The more you know how people can cheat you, the less likely you'll be cheated.”

  “So it's all right to cheat?” Mira asked slowly, obviously struggling with the concept.

  He shook his head. “Lying and cheating is like playing with guns. When it's real, it's very dangerous. You have to be very careful, but we Whis
tlers always thought it was a good thing to know how to do it well, and more importantly, how to tell when someone else is doing it.”

  Jerin realized that someone else was in the room. He glanced up to meet the gaze of a young woman leaning against the door, watching them. Judging by her auburn hair, fair skin, and delicate features, she could be none other than the mysterious Princess Trini. Her look was a mix of amusement and dismay.

  Lylia wandered back into the room. “Trini, there you are! You haven't met the Whistlers yet. This is Jerin.”

  Princess Trini straightened up with a scowl at her younger sister. “Well met. Master Whistler, but if you'll excuse me, I have better things to do than to play with toy soldiers.”

  The others, minus Eldest Whistler, returned to the playroom. Barnes, they said, had fetched Eldest to meet with a visitor. The Whistlers showed off their skills at sleight of hand for the youngest princesses, making coins and balls disappear and reappear. The children and Cullen picked up most of the basic moves, but Lylia, laughing at her own fumble-fingeredness, couldn't get it.

  “Finally,” Cullen gloated, “something I can do that you can't!”

  The young princesses' tutor arrived, announced playtime was over, and shooed the visitors away. The group decided to troop back to the Whistler suite for tea. They reversed their normal marching order, with Lylia and Jerin leading, while Summer and Corelle, flanking Cullen, trailed behind.

  Reaching the suite first, Lylia opened the door and halted.

  Eldest Whistler and Kij Porter stood in the room, the tension almost visible between them. If Kij and Eldest Whistler had been armed, surely both would have hands resting on their weapons. Seeing them standing thus, it struck Jerin for the first time that the Porters were built much like his sisters—tall, lean, and broad in the shoulders.

  “You'll have to give us time to decide.” Eldest's voice was carefully flat, void of any emotion. “I won't be pressured into a snap decision.”

  “I don't see what there is to decide,'' Kij said lightly, though her eyes were narrowed in something that might be anger. ”We're willing to offer twice the amount you'd get from commoners. We're a powerful family with ancient noble lines. There isn't a family greater than ours in all of Queensland.“

  Jerin's heart quaked in his chest. Offer? The Porters?

  The two women realized that he stood in the doorway. They turned toward him, Eldest with a flash of irritation, Kij Porter with a look close to greed.

  “We'll talk about this later,” Eldest stated firmly; it was unclear if she spoke to Kij or Jerin.

  “Jerin!” Kij came to claim his hands, squeezing them possessively. “You're more beautiful every time I see you.”

  “It's the clothes,” he murmured, ducking his head shyly, but then glancing up to study her. Did he want Kij as a wife? Kij and her sisters were handsome women—stronger in features than the delicate royal princesses, which some would say was a bonus. Certainly they did not tend toward freckling like Lylia. Kij's eyes were the hard blue of sapphires.

  Jerin could not find a single spark of warmth for Kij. Was it because he had given his heart totally to Ren already? Was it just a lack of knowing Kij?

  She leaned toward him. A month ago, he would have missed the warning signs. Thanks to his experience with the royal princesses, however, he realized she was going to try to kiss him. He stepped backward with no conscious thought in the action, not even aware he'd avoided her until she straightened with a slight frown.

  “Come, what's the harm in a simple kiss? A sample of what I'm buying?”

  “My brother is not a horse, nor a whore.” Eldest's voice was toneless with her controlled anger. “We'll need a contract and brother's price in hand, a secure betrothal, before anyone can try for a sample.”

  Not counting royal princesses, of course. Jerin studied his feet as his face burned. Hopefully that comment won't blow up in our face.

  Kij didn't seem put off in the least. She chuckled softly and murmured, “Ah, I do enjoy taming a spirited colt before mounting and riding.”

  “Good day, Porter,” Eldest snapped.

  Kij nodded to them and went out.

  “I don't like her. Eldest,” Corelle muttered.

  “You said he wasn't a horse,” Summer growled.

  “Corelle. Summer,” Eldest snapped. “We don't discuss family business in public.”

  Lylia and Cullen! Jerin turned around and found the two hovering by the door, looking paler than any of his sisters.

  “This is not a good time,” Lylia said, blinking rapidly. “We'll leave you to discuss this.”

  She went without seeing if Cullen followed. Cullen opened his mouth, closed it again, and hurried after his cousin. The Whistlers stood in silence, the younger siblings waiting out of habit for Eldest to speak.

  “Well?” Corelle finally asked. “What do we do?”

  “We wait,” Eldest stated firmly, leaving no room for discussion. “This is only our first offer. We have time. We wait.”

  Ren was in her office in town when Lylia came in like a firestorm.

  “Where is she? Barnes said she came to the offices, and her office said she mentioned she was coming here! Was she here?”

  “She, who?”

  “Trim!” Lylia shouted. “That cold, self-centered bitch of our sister!”

  “Lylia!” Ren snapped. “You will not use that language when speaking about one of our family.”

  “Kij offered for Jerin!” Lylia wailed. “And that—that—Trini refused even to meet him!”

  Ren sat. She had no choice as her legs wouldn't support her. “Whistler didn't accept?”

  “She said they would need time to think, thank gods. It worked just like I planned. I got Jerin and Trini both to the playroom, and just as Odelia predicted, he was terrific with the youngest—I've never seen them so good. But all she did was stand at the door and sulk. Then—then!—to top everything off, she insulted him!”

  “She didn't!” Ren suddenly felt like calling Trini a few choice names herself. “What did she say?”

  “Oh, nothing really bad. Just that she had better things to do with her time than play with soldiers.” Lylia deflated slightly at a look from Ren. “Oh, okay, it wasn't really an insult. It just seemed like a slap in the face to me, after Jerin was so nice. He's such a sweetie. He can do magic!”

  “Magic?” Ren could think of only one thing magiclike that Jerin did—and she hoped that he hadn't done it in front of the youngest.

  “He can make coins and little balls disappear. He's so clever with his hands.”

  Ren recalled Jerin being clever with his hands and her body pulsed with a sudden need to be with him again. Had he done magic on Lylia too? The kiss she interrupted seemed mild compared with the embraces she had shared with Jerin.

  “What do we do?” Lylia asked, drawing Ren out of her air dreams.

  “I'll order Trini to spend time with Jerin, let her get to know him, and then push the issue. We've got to get married, and we want our husband to be Jerin.”

  Eldest Whistler was waiting for Ren in the princess's study at the palace.

  “I've heard,” Ren said.

  “No you haven't.” Eldest held up an envelope addressed in thin spidery writing. “Eldest Picker has died. Meg is now head of the Picker family. Someone approached her with a better offer. She's going to hold us strictly to the terms of our contract. Payment for the store will have to be on the contracted date, or she'll sell it to the other party.”

  “I thought you had an exclusive contract.”

  “We do, until Jerin's birthday, which we were assuming would be his betrothal day. We had hoped for some traveling time beyond that, but Meg Picker's disallowed it. We need to be back to Heron Landing by that date. If we don't hand the Picker sisters their money on that day, then we owe them the penalty and they are free to sell to the other buyer.”

  Ren did the math. Once Eldest accepted an offer, she would need four or five days for the betroth
al contract to be written, all prenuptial tests run on Jerin, and then the actual signing. Add another five days for traveling, and the Whistlers actually needed to accept an offer two weeks prior to Jerin's birthday. “So you only have thirty days or so to decide.”

  Eldest nodded. “Have you heard from your sister?”

  Ren shook her head. Raven's people had found no trace of Halley.

  “If it was a straight choice between you and the Porters,” Eldest said, “it would be a simple pick. Jerin's happiness matters much to me, and any fool could see that my brother is in love with you. If I was sure that your family would eventually come around to favoring the match, we could wait financially. We have different options, but they're not as simple to access as the brother's price on Jerin, and not without risks.” Eldest looked at Ren with frank honesty. “But I'm not sure. Princess Halley may show up and want nothing to do with us. Or she might not show, and yet your mothers could continue to deny the match. Much as I love my brother, I have to do what is best for my sisters. I can give you until thirty days, and then I must accept Kij's offer.”

  “I understand.”

  Ren would face Trini and make her see the facts. If four of the five elder sisters agreed on Jerin, perhaps her mothers would allow the marriage without Halley's presence.

  Trini managed to mostly avoid Ren for a week. Their duties precluded her from avoiding Ren completely, but she slipped into court minutes before the first case was called, and then darted out the moment the last case was settled. Unwilling to estrange Trini from Jerin completely, Ren settled on giving a rare command as Eldest, ordering Trini to eat with the family. It was almost comical to see Trini try to avoid Ren, Odelia, Lylia, and Jerin at dinner.

  Aware of the days slipping by, Ren finally cornered Trini deadheading her prize roses. “We need to talk.”

  “No, we don't.” Trini snipped viciously at the innocent flowers. “I know what Lylia tried to pull. I know what you're trying to do. I'm not going to be roped into marriage again so soon. We're young. We can wait.”