*
Niam said nothing as they walked down the spacious hallway and marched directly into Lord Joachim’s study, where the count was busy listening to a foreman discuss plans for repairing a damaged roof before the big snows hit. “I need to talk to Jolan Kine,” Niam said without waiting for them to stop talking or even acknowledge his presence.
Lord Joachim looked up from his desk in surprise and frowned, but the expression was gone before it became too noticeable. He held his hand up curtly and told the carpenter to finish talking first. Shocked at Niam’s brazen interruption, Davin elbowed his friend in the ribs. “You do realize that is a lord of the realm, don’t you?” he whispered.
Niam stood with his arms crossed, tapping a foot impatiently. “He puts his pants on like anyone else.”
Davin tried to force a smile on his face that was politely appropriate and at the same time said, Don’t blame me. My friend can’t help himself.
When the carpenter left, Lord Joachim looked up and said in a voice that was always full of rust and gravel, “I trust that is the last time you’ll ever barge into my office unannounced.”
“Absolutely sir,” Davin said quickly. Then he cast a horrified look at Niam who actually hesitated for a moment and said, genuinely confused. “Sure.”
And then, “No.”
And then, “Well . . . maybe. It all sort of depends.”
Lord Joachim’s face showed no emotion, though the corner of his right eye did twitch.
“What is it, Maldies? You do know that Jolan Kine has sustained a life threatening injury?”
“I’m sure he’ll have more before all of this is over with,” Niam said shortly before Davin elbowed him a second time. Again Joachim’s eye twitched.
“What is so important that you need to disturb his rest? He is under the effects of poppy extract, you know.”
“Um, it’s kind of between us, being wizard stuff and all,” Niam said. Then he had to add, “Hey, how can we get some of that extract stuff?”
Davin elbowed him harder.
“I’m just saying,” Niam quipped. “Everyone wants to hurt us these days. Some of that might come in handy.”
Davin looked at Niam, and then at the unreadable expression on Joachim’s face. Davin felt that the best course of action at this point was to take two steps away from Niam and punch him in the arm. “Mr. Hapwell, if you hit him every time he deserves it, you’ll have to beat him until his arm falls off,” Lord Joachim said dryly.
Davin broke his silence. “I’m sorry Lord Joachim. When he gets an idea—” he began.
“I am aware of your friend’s penchant for mischief,” Lord Joachim finished. Then he looked at Niam. “I suppose this must be an emergency, Mr. Maldies?”
“Um yeah. It could be,” Niam answered.
And then, “I think.”
And then, “Maybe.”
Lord Joachim raised an eyebrow.
“That’s why I need to talk to him.”
“About?” Joachim demanded.
“Um hair,” he told him. Then, more specifically, added, “And stuff.”
“Hair,” Lord Joachim repeated, “And stuff.”
Niam shuffled his feet. “Yes sir. That’s exactly it.”
Joachim looked up and said, “It’s days like this that I’m glad I never had a boy.” He sighed after that and said, “If ‘hair and stuff’ is important enough to interrupt a member in good standing of the royal court, I am forced to assume that it is of paramount importance that you pester my half-dead Wizard’s Hammer.”
“Yes sir. That’s exactly it. Exactly.”
Davin punched him in the arm.
The Dread Lords Rising Page 56