The Brothers

16

The Brothers

    The sun was already high in the sky when Drouwh came downstairs. The house was silent. He could feel that the attic was empty, but he had expected that. But he couldn’t feel any other presences, either, except the small stripey cat, asleep on the back doorstep in the sun. Had she done something to his mind? But he really didn’t think so: everything she’d told him last night was present; indeed, much clearer than it had seemed yesterday, though perhaps that was only because he’d been so tired after the long drive.

    He went cautiously into the kitchen. In the patch of sun in the doorway, Stripey flicked an ear but continued to sleep. On the big old scrubbed table stood an empty bowl and a note. Drouwh went over and picked the note up slowly, forcing his hand not to tremble.

“Mk-L’ster,” it said in an unformed hand:

    “I have made a bred and milk puding with egg and dried v’ttl beries like what Roz told me. It is good. It is in the big ketel. All of it is for You we have had our’s. We are going to the forest Roz said it was alright. She is alright. Please trust her.

“Your respeckful clanswoman,

“M’ri Mk’Strt Mk-L’ster.”

    Drouwh bit his lip. He’d been terribly afraid it was going to say—He didn’t know what, exactly. That Roz had gone off to the city with his brother? That everything she’d told him last night had been a lie, except for the freeing of Rh’aiiy’hn, and he could expect the Palace Guard before sundown? Something like that. He went slowly over to the door and looked out.

    The vehicle paddock was silent and bare in the sun: his ground-car was gone. On the back verandah Rh’aiiy’hn of Old Rthfrdia was asleep in the rocking-chair, one hand dangling a little old book at his side. T’m’s Kitten was curled on his lap.

    Drouwh stepped carefully over the sleeping Stripey and tip-toed along the verandah. He looked down at his brother’s relaxed face, unaware he was holding his breath.

    Rh’aiiy’hn slept on. Very cautiously Drouwh took the book from his hand. It was an old leather-bound volume in Ancient Rthfrdian: poetry. It belonged to his mother. He laid it gently beside the sleeping man, and tip-toed back to the kitchen.

    The “puding” didn’t sound like any recipe he’d ever heard of. And anything she’d told M’ri to make—! He was not unused to the puddings of the clanspeople: made from yi’ish meal, sweetened with honey or the more expensive root sugar, and generally containing a considerable amount of the gut-clogging hggl fat the people used as shortening. Not a bad feed, if you’d spent a hard day out on the hills with your hggl flock, or galloping over the reaches herding grpplybeasts. Oh, well. He poked the pudding dubiously with a spoon. Were you supposed to eat it hot or cold? It was still warmish. Drouwh sighed, sat down at the table, and began to eat.

    Suddenly a little voice said in his head: Me! And a firm little body pressed against his ankle.

    He looked down at the little stripey cat, and smiled. “I think she’s put smah eggs in it,” he murmured. “Oh, well, you’d eat ’em raw.” He fetched the cat a dish and put some of the pudding in it, first removing the berries from that portion. Stripey settled down to it eagerly.

    The little cat’s portion had almost vanished and Drouwh was about to finish the last of what was in the bread kettle, when there was a rapid patter of tiny paws and T’m’s Kitten dashed in, sending: ME! ME!

    And a deep voice said from the doorway: “Give the kitten some, brother: democracy in action.”

    Drouwh bit his lip and got up slowly. “I didn’t hear you,” he said awkwardly.

    Rh’aiiy’hn replied simply: “I can’t hear you, either. I think she’s blocked us off from each other.”

    They looked at each other uncertainly.

    Finally Drouwh said: “Has she set this up on purpose? Does she expect us to talk things out?”

    “I’m not altogether sure,” he murmured. “The children were very keen to go to the forest, it’s a lovely day, and— Well!” He shrugged a little.

    Drouwh frowned. “Oh.” He hesitated, and then demanded abruptly: “Why didn’t you just walk out?”

    “Well, you see,” said Rh’aiiy’hn with an apologetic twinkle, but also with a considerable amount of that faintly ironic distancing of himself from himself which to Drouwh was one of his most irritating characteristics, “as soon as I get within five arm-measures of the wall down there, I get an excruciating pain in my head.”

    Drouwh’s lips tightened.

    Rh’aiiy’hn looked at him in silence for a moment and then said: “How is Allie?”

    “What? Oh.” Drouwh sat down again and picked up his spoon. T’m’s Kitten immediately sprang onto his knee. He gasped, then picked the kitten up and set it down. “All right, all right!” he said irritably to it. “Didn’t anyone feed the creature this morning?” he said irritably to his half-brother, going to get its bowl.

    “I have no idea, I’m afraid,” replied the Regent of Old Rthfrdia politely. “I slept in. I’m still pretty weak: the Captain tells me it’s the effect of the drug and lack of exercise.”

    “We could hardly walk you out on a lead,” said Drouwh grimly, spooning pudding out for T’m’s Kitten. “And shut up!” he added heavily, putting the dish down.

    “Er—Oh! The kitten!” said Rh’aiiy’hn with a laugh as it began to eat greedily. “Yes: he becomes very loud when food is involved, doesn’t he?”

    Drouwh smiled reluctantly. “Mm, piercing.” He sat down again and scraped out the kettle. “The boy’s all right. Fh’Ly’haiyn and Rh’n’lhd’s making him spend all of his time fencing and riding. I couldn’t get to speak to Black. –He was there, and I could hear him, but the cursed Palace Guard wouldn’t let me near him.”

    “At least they haven’t killed the poor fellow, then,” said the Regent tranquilly.

    “Wha—Oh! Black! –No. –All’yhaiyn hasn’t got much of a brain, you know. I don’t think further lessons in economics or politics would help much in any case.”

    “Perhaps not. Possibly when he has to receive the off-world delegations it will dawn on him that at least some of his limitations may be corrected by further study, however,” said Rh’aiiy’hn in his coolly detached way.

    “It won’t matter by then,” replied Drouwh grimly.

    “I suppose none of it ‘matters,’” he murmured.

    Drouwh’s nostrils flared. “Did you get that one from her?”

    “No. I think it’s one of my own limitations,” he said lightly.

    Drouwh had to bite his lip. “It’s always seemed like that to me,” he admitted.

    “I know. We should have changed places, you and I,” he said with a sigh. “You’d have made a splendid regent: Old Rthfrdia would be halfway to democracy with fifty percent devolution. And I’d have been happy freeing my clanspeople and— What is it?” he said with a quizzical look as Drouwh looked up with a thunderous scowl.

    “My clanspeople are already free, Prince Rh’aiiy’hn,” he said through his teeth. “Freer than a cursed Royal with no claim to a name can ever know!”

    “I’m sorry. I suppose I meant from the bondage of labour,” he murmured.

    “Human beings don’t appear to me to be much good when set free from the bondage of labour,” retorted Drouwh grimly. “Witness the lot at Court.”

    Rh’aiiy’hn laughed a little. “Indeed! Well, shall we just agree to say, giving the clanspeople a chance at a better life?”

    Drouwh opened his mouth. Then he shut it, shrugging a little.

    After a moment the Regent murmured: “Shall I make the tea?” He drifted over to the fireplace. “Perhaps that’s where our father went wrong,” he murmured, as he busied himself with the water kettle. “He may have chosen the right—er—genetic material, but we ended up in the wrong rôles. Don’t you think?”

    “No.”

    “No, perhaps not. You’d have been as unhappy as I at Court, I dare say.” He fetched the teapot and the dried fl’oouu catkins.

    “At least I’d have—” Drouwh broke off.

    “Go on.”

    “I’d have got rid of those damned hangers-on that cost the Exchequer a fortune, and turned all those useless tracts of Royal land into productive farms, at any rate! Some of our best yi’ish land’s being wasted so as the boy can miss his shot at half a dozen nyr a year!”

    “Mm. It’s not so easy,” he said with a wry look. “Tradition, you know, my dear fellow? The Lords’ Circle would have been very much opposed to any such move.” He paused. “And then—as regent, did I have the right?” he murmured.

    “Of course!” said Drouwh impatiently.

    Rh’aiiy’hn smiled a little: that certainly summed up the differences between them.

    Drouwh watched him make the tea, frowning. Finally he said: “I suppose you think that’s proved your point!”

    “One of the things I've always liked about you, Drouwh,” he replied lightly, “is that you’re not slow.”

    “Don’t call me—” Drouwh broke off, clenching his fists.

    “We are brothers, you know," he said softly.

    “Shut UP!”

    “I’ll call you Mk-L’ster, if you wish. This is your clan land, after all. But given that it can't make any difference to our situation, will it make you any happier?” he murmured.

    “Don't DO that!” shouted Drouwh.

    “I beg your pardon,” said Rh’aiiy’hn mildly, pouring tea. “You prefer it weak, I think?” he said, handing him a mug.

    Drouwh took it limply. “For the bears’ sake! Nice company manners, at a time like this?”

    “Ingrained in me. –If you can bring yourself to, I wish you would call me Rh’aiiy’hn. Nobody does, except my mother, now.”

    His brother goggled at him. “What in the name of Federation does Fh’Ly’haiyn and Rh’n’lhd call you, then?”

    “‘My Lord,’ generally; sometimes ‘Prince’ or ‘Your Royal Highness’; and ‘My Lord Regent’ when he’s really on his high horse.” His shoulders shook a little.

    “What’s so funny about that?” said Drouwh suspiciously.

    “Nothing. You said ‘in the name of Federation’ just then, do you realise?” His slanted azure eyes sparkled.

    Drouwh passed a hand over his face. After a moment he said limply: “It rubs off.”

    “So I see.” Rh’aiiy’hn came to sit near him at the old scrubbed wooden table, and sipped his tea placidly.

    Drouwh drank his without looking at him. Then he said: “Have you ever met him?”

    “Our father? Yes. I was only a youngster. But old enough to resent him like fury.” He wrinkled his straight nose. “Though by the end of his visit he’d long since charmed me out of that. –Yes, he has considerable charm. Didn’t the Captain give you that impression?”

    “She gave me the impression that it’s the sort of charm that works on women," he replied grimly.

    Rh’aiiy’hn smiled. “That, too. But I think he’d be capable of making any being eat out of his hand. He was here that time disguised as some sort of trader. He’s been several times.”

    “He must have,” he agreed drily. “I suppose you know you have a sister, as well?”

    “Yes. Did you never wonder why Mother never tried to make a match between me and A’ailh’sa?” he asked curiously.

    Drouwh shrugged. “No.”

    “I admit the child would be far too young for me, but on the other hand, she was throwing D’nl’d Mk-H’aiy’h’s youngest daughter at my head all last summer.”

     Drouwh smiled reluctantly. “What, the one that Dh’aaych wouldn’t have?”

    “No,” he said with his glinting, sidelong smile. “Her younger sister.”

    Drouwh gave a sudden shout of laughter. For an instant they smiled at each other.

    Then Drouwh’s glance darkened and he looked away.

    Rh’aiiy’hn bit his lip. Then he said very softly: “Would it be an impertinence to say I’m proud to have you as a brother?”

    “Yes,” he said through his teeth.

    The Regent sighed a little, but said nothing.

    “I will never agree,” said Drouwh slowly and clearly, glaring out through the open door at a perfect day, “to full devolution. It would mean bloody slaughter once the townsfolk realised they'd lost out. And if you care a curse about the clanspeople, you’d see that!”

    “I do see that.”

    There was a long silence. Rh’aiiy’hn poured himself another mug of fl’oouu tea and drank it slowly. Drouwh glared out at the sunny lawn.

    Finally Rh’aiiy’hn said: “Could you agree to retaining a limited constitutional monarchy, with most of the Royal lands to be converted to useful purposes, until All’yhaiyn comes of age, if I agree to fifty percent devolution?”

    Drouwh hesitated. Then he demanded baldly: “Is this all your idea?”

    The Regent replied frankly: “No. I didn’t think you’d ever agree to retain the Royal Family in any form. The Captain and Miss K’t-Ln seem to have cooked it up between them. The ideal compromise?” He raised his eyebrows a little, and gave a tiny shrug. “Miss K’t-Ln’s idea seems to be that after the Referendum, once All’yhaiyn is of age, I should form a new political party, with full devolution as its aim.”

    Drouwh stared at him. This ran counter to all their traditions, in more ways than one. A Regent took no part at all in political life when his regency was over. “And?”

    “It seems feasible. I think possibly we’ve been bound too much, you and I, by—er—old patterns and traditional ways of thinking, and—er—old loyalties.” He stared out through the open door at the view of the forest beyond the vehicle-paddock wall. “Perhaps we haven’t been able to see the wood for the trees,” he murmured.

    Drouwh took a deep breath. “By the bears!”

    “I’m sorry; I certainly didn’t mean to mock you, Mk-L’ster. Only it is ironic, isn’t it? A half-wild little forest-bandit girl setting the way a world should go?”

    “By the old gods, if you believe that, you’re a bigger fool than I ever took you for!” shouted Drouwh furiously. “It wasn’t her who thought up a scheme like that, it was cursed Captain-Whoever-She-Is Interfering Feddo!”

    “I wondered that. But I really don’t think so. I don’t think the Captain is a political animal, at all. We’ve discussed the situation, all three of us, interminably, and I really don’t think I was imagining the gusts of boredom that emanated from her. She seemed very… genuine, is the only word, I’m afraid,” he said with one of those little rueful, half-ironic smiles of his. “As when she told me about her home planet.” Drouwh was looking baffled and annoyed; Rh’aiiy’hn continued mildly: “Bluellia. Grqwaries and grain. I went there once with Jhms All’yhaiyn when we were young, and then later, on a formal visit, to look at their system of agriculture. We could raise grqwaries on the plains, but it’s quite labour-intensive, I doubt if our herders would take to the work. Grqwaries don't range, they merely… potter,” he ended, his lips twitching slightly.

    Drouwh had ignored all of this speech, gnawing on his lip and scowling. Now he said harshly: “Never mind that! So you’re convinced she’s genuine?”

    “Mm… Not wholly intellectually convinced, no. I dare say I have almost as many doubts as you. Though naturally I’m predisposed in her favour: after all, she rescued me. But I’m emotionally convinced, yes.”

    Drouwh swallowed.

    “What do you think?” said Rh’aiiy’hn.

    “Fifty percent devolution?”

    “Yes.”

    Drouwh hesitated. “What about the boy?”

    Rh’aiiy’hn’s lips twitched. “Mk-L’ster, you do realise that over the past year you’ve been at least as concerned as I about Allie?”

    “I—” He broke off, scowling. “I suppose that’s a result of my upbringing.”

    “Mm. Tradition,” said the Regent on a wry note.

    “Well, for the old gods’ sake, Rh’aiiy’hn, he is the Ruler! I’m not proposing to throw him to the bears!”

    “No,” he said with a strange little smile. “What fate do you have prepared for him, then?”

    “If the people vote to abolish the cursed Royal Family,” said Drouwh with a horrible scowl, “he can come down to the Lower Cwmb and learn land management. The Mk-L’ster lands there are going to the bears since Mother became ill— Go on, laugh,” he said sourly.

    Rh’aiiy’hn choked helplessly. “I thought it was something like that!” he gasped at last.

    “I’ve been bred to responsibility,” replied Drouwh tightly.

    “Yes.” He sighed a little. “I suppose I’ve been bred to see my responsibilities on a much broader scale.”

    “Meanwhile ignoring the human beings around you,” said his brother sourly.

    “I try not to. I do care for Mother. I cared very much for Jhms All’yhaiyn. But apart from them… I’m afraid I don’t even like poor Allie. Though I’ve done my best to hide it from him.”

    “Yes,” agreed Drouwh grimly. “Now tell me what your contingency plan for him is, if the vote goes against you.”

    “I think you know. My personal estates in the Southern Continent. There’s a pleasant house: he’d enjoy the life, I think, once he got used to it.”

    “Exactly,” said Drouwh with a kind of sour triumph.

    “I thought I’d give him his independence; make the estates over to him,” finished the Regent calmly.

    Drouwh choked: that was something he hadn’t picked up previously. “Make them over—! What about you?”

    “Does it matter?”

    “Matter! MATTER!” he shouted. “Of course it cursed well MATTERS! What’s wrong with you, man?”

    Rh’aiiy’hn looked at him wryly. “Only the fact that I find it hard to believe that anything matters.”

    Drouwh breathed hard.

    “It’s so… inimical to you, isn’t it?’ he said dreamily. “Repugnant: foreign to your very self. I envy you.” He smiled a little. “No wonder our father decided I was an unfortunate genetic experiment and he’d better try again.”

    His brother gulped. After a moment he said: “I got the impression that I was the experiment.”

    “Oh, I'm sure we’re both were. As for A’ailh’sa: he forgot to specify it should be a boy.”

    Drouwh passed a hand through his hair. After a moment he said: “I need to think about it all. I can’t make a decision all at once. But are you serious about giving up full devolution if I settle for limited constitutional monarchy?”

    “Yes. But Allie’s interests must be safeguarded.”

    Drouwh got up. “He’ll be a cursed sight safer with my eye on him than with any of those self-seeking kna droppings that hang round old Fh’Ly’haiyn and Rh’n’lhd!”

    “I know that,” said his brother mildly.

    Drouwh gave him an exasperated look, and flung over to the back door.

    After a little Rh’aiiy’hn got up from the table and went out slowly onto the back verandah.

    Drouwh was five arm-measures from the stone wall at the rear of the vehicle paddock. Rh’aiiy’hn watched silently. The strong shoulders tensed under the thin fabric of his shirt. Rh’aiiy’hn winced in sympathy, but did nothing.

    Drouwh took a couple of steps, very slowly, as if he was pushing against an immense weight, and fell in a heap on the ground.

    Rh’aiiy’hn bit his lip, but still did nothing.

    Slowly and painfully the figure on the ground dragged itself a couple of arm-measures closer to the house. Then he sat up and put his head in his hands.

    Rh’aiiy’hn went quietly indoors again.

    “Who on the two Rthfrdias owns that pale green Feddo lifter in the paddock?” demanded Dh’aaych’llyai’n as his old friend opened the back door to him.

    “What? Oh. Never mind. Come in. –Isn’t Uncle Eeain with you?”

    “No. Gouty foot: been on a uissh bender: can’t stand the way old Fh’Ly’haiyn and Rh’n’lhd’s lording it at… Court,” he finished numbly, stepping over the threshold and becoming transfixed at the sight of Rh’aiiy’hn of Old Rthfrdia sitting at the kitchen table with a green, grey and black Mk-L’ster cloak over his shoulder.

    “Get in!” said Drouwh irritably.

    Dh’aaych stumbled in, his hand going to the blaster on his belt.

    “Good evening, Lord Dh’aaych’llyai’n,” said the Regent formally.

    “He’s not controlling me, and I’m not controlling him,” said Drouwh as Dh’aaych goggled from one to the other of them. “And both of us, as far as we are aware, are in full possession of our faculties.”

    “Uh—yeah. Good evening, my Lord Regent,” he croaked, bowing.

    Composedly Rh’aiiy’hn rose and returned the bow.

    “And if that’s your reaction, the old gods alone know what Shn’aillaigh’s will be,” said Drouwh heavily.

    “She’ll blast him where he sits, that’s what her reaction’ll be!” returned Shn’aillaigh’s childhood friend with feeling.

    “Mm. Sit down, Dh’aaych. Fancy a spiced ale?”

    “Thanks,” he croaked, not moving.

    “Please be seated, Lord Dh’aaych’llyai’n,” said Rh’aiiy’hn politely. “The Mk-L’ster and I have come to an accommodation.”

    “Thank you, my Lord Regent,” he croaked, sinking onto one of the old wooden chairs at the table. He eyed Drouwh’s back uncertainly, his hand going stealthily to his blaster again.

    “Don’t,” said Drouwh, not looking round.

    “So you are reading me!” he said in violent exasperation. “For the bears’ sake, Drouwh, what’s going on?”

    “In a minute.” He distributed tankards of hot spiced ale and sat down beside him. “As Prince Rh’aiiy’hn says, we’ve reached an accommodation.”

    Dh’aaych took a sustaining draught. “Why?”

    “Largely because neither of us wants to see Old Rthfrdia plunged into a bloody civil war.”

    “Aye, well, that’s the most sensible thing I’ve heard you say all year! So what about the clan lands?”

    “Fifty percent,” said Drouwh.

    Dh’aaych looked uneasily at the Regent.

    “Yes. That is the proposition we shall jointly put to the Lords’ Circle, the Representatives and the people.”

    Dh’aaych nodded limply. “Good.”

    Rh’aiiy’hn glanced at Drouwh, hesitating. “Er, there is a little more to it—”

    At that moment the passage door opened and a small black-haired figure in baggy riding breeches and a cream mn-mn silk shirt came in. “One of you tell him, or I will!” she said.

    Dh’aaych got up slowly. “Hullo, Roz. Don’t tell me that little cat of an A’ailh’sa’s refusing to lend you her dresses?”

    “On the contrary. She’s even more horrified at the sight of me in breeches than you are.”

    He grinned suddenly. “I think you look great, actually!”

    “Thanks,” said Jhl drily. She hadn’t needed mind-powers to see that.

    Dh’aaych waggled his eyebrows at her. “Could go back to those little gold pants?”

    Rh’aiiy’hn received a sudden vivid picture of the Captain in little gold pants, and in spite of his years of diplomatic training had to put his hand hurriedly over his mouth.

    “And you can stop sniggering, too!” she said crossly.

    “I’m sorry, Captain,” he said meekly.

    “Eh?” croaked Dh’aaych, his jaw sagging. “Captain?”

    “Sit down again, Dh’aaych,” said Jhl kindly. “I’ll explain.”

    “Are you a Feddo spy after all?” he replied, sitting.

    “I said he was a very intuitive being!” she noted pleasedly. “–You can pour me a tankard of that stuff, too, Mk-L’ster, thanks.”

    Dh’aaych watched numbly as his old friend, his lips compressed, got up and went to get the Pleasure Girl a tankard of spiced ale. “Uh—were you ever a Pleasure Girl?” he croaked.

    “No.”

    “Pity,” he said simply.

    Jhl took a deep breath. “Uh—Asteroids of Hhum, where do I start?”

    “Let me, Captain,” suggested Rh’aiiy’hn.

    “No,” said Drouwh instantly.

    Dh’aaych sighed. “They’re at it again. Start by explaining why they’re calling you Captain, eh?”

    Nodding, Jhl started.

    … “Got it, got it,” he reported pleasedly. “Is that green lifter customised for you?” he added keenly.

    “For the bears’ sake!” cried Drouwh. “Is that all you can say?”

    “This being is coping with the shock in his own way,” said Jhl severely.

    “See? I’m a being!” said Dh’aaych, grinning. “What about another round of ale, old boy?”

    Drouwh sighed, but got up and operated with ale and spices and the battered old pwld jug.

    “Aaah! That’s better!” announced Dh’aaych, lowering his tankard. “So how’d you get your message to this Feddo dad of theirs, Roz? Got a new kind of blob, that it?”

    “No. Uh—it’s very complicated.”

    “Don’t explain!” he said hurriedly.

    Jhl goggled at him.

    “Yes,” murmured Rh’aiiy’hn.

    She jumped. “Asteroids of Hhum, was I broadcasting?”

    “Very clearly. He and your friend BrTl appear to be twin moons in the one sky.”

    “He a big furry fellow?” said Dh’aaych, cocking an eyebrow.

    “Yes,” admitted Jhl limply.

    “I got all that,” he said smugly. “So it’s the little green fluffy one that does the whatever-it-is with the x’nb-web, eh?”

    “It’s all in there somewhere!” said Drouwh on a wild note. “Floating around in that uissh-soaked yi’ish between the ears!”

    “Don't tease him,” said Jhl, trying not to laugh.

    Dh’aaych winked at his old friend, but merely said mildly: “Well, I think I've got it. As much as I care to. Wait on: A’ailh’sa’s one of this Whtyllian Lord’s get, too, right?”

    “Mm,” agreed Drouwh.

    “Busy fellow, wasn’t he?” he said, waggling his eyebrows a bit.

    The brothers gave him identical amazed and offended stares and he said to Jhl: “By the bears, you can see it when they’re sitting together lookin’ down those straight noses of theirs at you, can’t you? Different colouring, of course, but—” He screwed his eyes up and looked at them hard. “Aye. Could be twins.”

    “You might show some surprise!” said Drouwh irritably.

    “Dunno that I feel all that much. Well, dash it, old boy, the whole place knows the Dad weren’t your real father! No, well, dashed surprised to know that Roz is a captain and all that, naturally. –Though I always thought you were a clever gal.”

    “Thanks. I think,” replied Jhl drily.

    Rh’aiiy’hn began politely: “If you would care for some more information on our political agree—”

    “No, no! Please don’t bother, sir! See it all, now! ’Course you couldn’t go on doin’ your best to dash each other’s brains out, once you found out you’re brothers!”

    “No,” agreed Rh’aiiy’hn in a strangled voice, not daring to glance at his sibling.

    “Dh’aaych, you’re an idiot,” said his oldest friend grimly.

    “Pooh!” He got up. “I’m going to fetch a bottle of your grandfather’s uissh from the cellar. We need to drink a toast to the future of Old Rthfrdia in something decent!” he said firmly, going out.

    As the Captain appeared completely unmoved, the brothers found they were exchanging limp glances of solidarity.

    A considerable amount of both uissh and ale had been consumed and Dh’aaych, who had refused to discuss anything even remotely related to the political situation on Old Rthfrdia, was yawning widely and complaining about the bridges still being out around L’pgow.

    “Come on, host,” he said, getting up, as Drouwh also smothered a yawn. “You can show me which room I’m in.”

    Drouwh got up. “Very well.”

    Dh’aaych bowed to the Regent. “Goodnight, sir. I’m not sure whether I say ‘Welcome to our side,’ or not.”

    Rh’aiiy’hn rose, looking dry. “Oh, I think you do, Lord Dh’aaych’llyai’n. Fifty percent devolution is a considerable concession on my part. And thank you for the sentiment.” He held out his hand.

    Dh’aaych took it but instead of shaking it as was the custom, bowed very low over it, just touching his lips to it.

    “Thank you,” said Rh’aiiy’hn. “Goodnight.”

    “Goodnight, sir. Goodnight, Roz.”

    “Goodnight, Dh’aaych,” said Jhl, smiling. “Goodnight, Mk-L’ster.”

    “Goodnight, Captain. Goodnight, my Lord Regent,” he said stiffly.

    The Regent responded politely: “Goodnight, Mk-L’ster,” as Dh’aaych, rolling his eyes a little, propelled his old friend to the door.

    Rh’aiiy’hn sat down slowly.

    After a moment Jhl asked: “Was that bit with the bowing and hand-kissing significant?”

    He wrinkled his straight nose. “Very. Tantamount to an oath of fealty.”

    Jhl raised her eyebrows. “Blow me out beyond the last black hole,” she invited mildly.

    He smiled very slightly. “Quite.”

    “Well, it’s all very cosy, isn’t it?” she said brightly. “Now all you have to do is persuade the populace to vote for your joint proposition!”

     Rh’aiiy’hn laughed suddenly. “Exactly!”

    “I don’t think that’s occurred to Drouwh, yet.”

    “No. Well, I suppose that the most urgent tasks are smoothing things over with both his people and mine, and tackling Fh’Ly’haiyn and Rh’n’lhd.”

    “Mm. Well, you’d better get a move on, there’s only about an Old Rthfrdian month left until F-Day.”

    “Yes. I’ve sketched out a tentative schedule for broadcasting a combined message. It should work quite well if each Representative sticks to his appointed few words.”

    “Uh-huh,” she agreed neutrally.

    He gave a twisted smile. “You’re right: Drouwh and I between us could undoubtedly make sure they do; but would that be ethical?”

    “Don’t ask me, I’m only a trader captain.”

    “It was a rhetorical question,” he said, suddenly sighing and passing his hand over his face.

    Jhl got up. “You’re tired: better get off to bed, too. And tomorrow you can come out into the forest for a walk.”

    Rh’aiiy’hn replied limply: “Very well.” He got up slowly, and she came up to his side. “Thank you,” he said, putting an arm around her shoulders and leaning quite a lot of his weight on her. “Unlike my brother, I’m not too proud to accept help, as you see.”

    They had reached the foot of the stairs when Rh’aiiy’hn said in a low voice: “He was really annoyed by Lord Dh’aaych’llyai’n’s assumption that it was the discovery of our being brothers that was the deciding factor in our joining forces, did you notice?”

    “Mm.”

    “Was it really not a factor, in Drouwh’s case?”

    “Um, well… It was a very minor, factor, yes, but—uh—he’s denying it to himself very strongly,” she admitted.

    “Does he resent me so much?” he said hoarsely.

    Jhl frowned over it, trying to stifle the reflection that if he wasn’t such a nice being she’d have said brutally that humanoid psychology wasn’t her subject. Finally she said: “Clearly he does resent you. It’s partly what could be called sibling rivalry. You’re older than him, you have more authority, you’re an extremely attractive male being, and you possess many admirable qualities and skills which he’s aware he doesn’t.”

    “Isn’t that putting it rather too simply?” he said in a shaken tone.

    “I don’t think so. It is a very simple, basic thing.”

    Rh’aiiy’hn’s high golden brow wrinkled. “Yes,” he said finally.

    “And then, he feels very strongly that he’s been made a fool of.”

    “Because he had no notion of his father’s identity? But why resent me?”

    “I don’t know exactly why, I've never done Third School Humanoid Psychology. But I do know that that sort of reaction is very common in many species of sentient beings.”

    “Yes,” he said with a sigh. “I’m sure you’re right.”

    “Possibly if Shank’yar was here, most of the resentment would be turned directly against him. He does feel very bitter towards him, of course.”

    Rh’aiiy’hn nodded grimly.

    Jhl hesitated, then said: “To some extent, all of his reactions are present in you, too.”

    “I'm just coming to that realisation,” he admitted heavily.

    “Mm. Come on, can you manage the stairs?”

    “Yes,” he said grimly.

    They went slowly up, with Rh’aiiy’hn putting as little of his weight on her as he could. On the landing, however, he gave her a very shaky smile and whispered: “Sorry; I’ll have to—”

    Jhl helped him to lower himself unsteadily to the floor.

    Rh’aiiy’hn leant his head against the wainscoting, sighing.

    After quite some time she ventured: “Shall I fetch one of them?”

    “No,” he said very faintly.

    There was a long pause.

    “Spare me that humiliation,” he muttered. He bent forward, drew up his knees, and laid his forehead on them, hugging his shins.

    Jhl might not have had any sort of degree in humanoid psychology, but this looked horribly like the humanoid foetal position, to her. She sat down quietly beside him. After what seemed like ten IG millennia but was probably only about ten Old Rthfrdian minutes, she said: “I could give you the strength.”

    “No,” he said faintly.

    She waited another ten millennia or so. “Rh’aiiy’hn, this is silly,” she said in a low voice.

    “He won’t even call me by my name,” he said in a muffled voice into his knees.

    “No. Well, it’ll take time.”

    “I thought… I thought, once he knew, I wouldn’t be lonely any more.”

    “I know,” she said matter-of-factly.

    He sniffed, and sat up straight. “Thank you for not attempting facile words of comfort, Captain.”

    Jhl hadn't been able to think of any, really. “That’s all right,” she said awkwardly.

    “Will you ask Lord Dh’aaych’llyai’n to help me, please?”

    She nodded, and got up.

    A minute later Dh’aaych came along the passage in his night-shirt, yawning. “Legs given way, sir? It’s that muck we got off The Old Woman: I told Drouwh we should never have given it to you— Oh, well.”

    “Thank you, Lord Dh’aaych’llyai’n,” he said as Dh’aaych assisted him to his feet.

    “Think nothing of it, sir! Should have seen the state I was in after that business with The Old Woman!” he said, shaking his head. “Shockin’: weak as a kitten. Told you about that, have they? When she fixed Miss K’t-Ln’s head. And as for Drouwh! Out like a kfft-fly: used him up in no time. –Didn’t think much of either of us: only males, y’see!” he said with his cheery grin.

    Rh’aiiy’hn smiled faintly.

    Dh’aaych helped him to his room without saying anything more, made sure he didn’t require further assistance, and bowed himself out.

    In the passage he shook his head slowly, as the Captain reappeared.

    “He is slowly getting better,” she said. “He needs more fresh air.”

    “Aye: bad business.” He shot her a shrewd look. “It ain’t only that, y’know. Taking it bad. Should know better: he’s known Drouwh all his life: knows he’s as stubborn as a bull kna.”

    “Yes, indeed!” she said, suddenly smiling at him. “You’re such a nice being!”

    He grinned ruefully. “Couldn’t manage to convince K’t-Ln of that, could you?”

    “I think that’s up to you, Dh’aaych.”

    “Mm,” he said wryly. He walked slowly beside her to her door. “Look,” he said.

    “What?” replied Jhl mildly.

    He swallowed hard. “Uh—whichever of ’em you choose—uh—well, it’ll only make matters worse, far’s I can see.”

    “I don’t intend to ‘choose’ either of them.”

    Dh’aaych replied calmly: “Rh’aiiy’hn seems to have fallen for you as hard as Drouwh has.” She reddened, and he added: “Said yourself I was intuitive!”

    “Ssh. Yes,” she said, smiling a little.

    He scratched his head. “Well, I’ve said my piece.”

    “Yes. Thank you for the advice. But as I said, I don’t intend to choose either of them. Not on a temporary or a long-term basis.”

    Dh’aaych just shook his head and wandered back along the corridor to his room, yawning.

    Jhl went into her room, very flushed, his Oh, yeah? ringing loud in her mind.