A Fine Black Sky
CHAPTER TEN
Osseus Rivalis, the Lord’s First Son, was upon the Widening Stair when Kid left the Lord’s Office. Kid didn't know him all that well. He had seen him once upon a time, when Lord Rivalis IV was invited to a soiree of some description at the North Tower. The boy had been much like his Father then - a kind of inbuilt dominance and aloofness to everyone around him. This version was a little older, stiffer of back, but there was no less of the controlling attitude and the amused look upon his smooth, privileged countenance. The only other difference was now Osseus had near identical cronies upon his flanks. They were the sons of a Noble, presumably, denoted by the way they carried themselves - subservient to Osseus, if they knew what was good for them, yet with much of the stiffness of Osseus himself. Osseus had a particularly annoying habit of chuckling before he spoke, “Whom do we have here? Is it the Broken Boy? What happened, boy? Mommy not care for you? Crawled too close to the fire? Or did your Father hit you for being lame? Got no answer, boy?”
Kid hadn’t. Not because he feared Osseus - he could not. He did not know of what Osseus was capable, not at that time, at least. It was because he did, indeed, have no answer.
The magic of the scene was broken, however, by the nonchalant appearance of an Understeward, who smiled and winked at Kid, completely against the unspoken rules of protocol. Kid watched the man with little interest, wondering in some way why he himself remained standing in the same spot. It was perhaps out of a sense of duty, or simply because he was lost, alone and lonely in a vast Tower he had never explored, had never crawled the solid ground, nor walked barefoot upon the flagstones. It was familiar, but in the same way a cobweb was to a spider.
The appearance of the Understeward had put Osseus off his stride. It had, however, not cut his tongue, “Still no answer? Just watch yourself, boy. No one wants an ugly cripple around the place. Why do you think your useless Father sent you here? Because he can’t stand the sight of you. Get out of my sight, boy. And if I see you, brazenly limping the corridors, I’ll show you what a real fall from a Tower can do.”
The Understeward dropped his brush, breaking the moment again and taking some of the power from it. It had, however, allowed Osseus and his boys an excuse to leave with an admonishment to the clumsy man. The Understeward apologised to Kid, who too left, hobbling aimlessly toward his destiny.
And he would be mindful now of Osseus. The words had hurt, cut deeply into Kid’s heart, and he realised then that his life from now on would not be as simple as it had once been.
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