The answer came back quickly.
If you think he’s ready, I have no objection. Send word when you’re on the road; I’ll meet you as before, unless you have time to stay a night or so with us.
“Would you like some time with your family?” Arcolin asked Kaim, showing him his father’s letter.
Kaim fidgeted. “No, my lord. My mother and sisters will make a fuss. Easier for all if I don’t.”
“Your father will meet us on the road, then, with the contract.” And he had better see that Kaim was safe after the history with Count Halar’s father.
Days passed quickly, each one longer as spring advanced. He took the recruits’ oaths, signing them into the Company book. No Paksenarrions in this lot that he could see, just the usual mix of youngsters looking for something other than a quiet life at home. He held his last Duke’s Court of the season at Duke’s East and Duke’s West and made his last visit to the stone-right to ensure his gnomes knew his plans and how to communicate with him. Only a few days before he would leave … he felt the familiar excitement that came before every journey, along with a reluctance to leave he knew would disappear once he was out of sight of Duke’s East.
“Before you leave …” Calla stepped into Arcolin’s office, hands folded before her.
“Yes?”
“I have news I believe you will welcome.”
He understood in a moment from the joy in her eyes, the pink of her cheeks.
“You … are bearing?”
“I believe so. It is early; things happen sometimes. But the count of days suggests I am.”
He was out of his chair and around the desk before he realized it. “You—you are a wonder. A child! I never thought I would have a child of my own—” A movement in the open door caught his eye; he turned. There stood Jamis, paler than usual. Calla turned as well.
“Jamis! Did you follow me?”
“I wanted to ask Da if I could ride to Duke’s East with him—” He paused. “Am I—are you—will I have a brother, then? Or a sister?”
The look the boy gave Arcolin pierced his heart. He knew instantly that the boy knew too much and not enough. He remembered and knew the fear the boy felt. Jamis had never known his own father—he’d died when Jamis was not even one winter old. He had called Arcolin “Da” almost from the first; he had been everything a father could want in a boy that age. And now … the shadow in his eyes showed that he knew what this could mean. He had heard the joy in Arcolin’s words; he had probably heard comments about his status from others in the towns and even here in the stronghold. He expected to be shunted aside for Arcolin’s own child. As Arcolin himself had been the one shunted aside, though for a different reason.
“We hope you will,” Arcolin said. How could he mend this? “Come here, my lad. When I leave, you must be your mother’s comfort, and if your brother or sister should be born before I return—though I think that unlikely—it will be yours to protect and guide them. You are the eldest, after all.”
“I am … not really yours, am I?”
Arcolin went down on one knee, meeting those guileless eyes on the level. “You are my son, Jamis. You have had two fathers—your father who died and now me. You are the blood-son of an honorable man, your mother’s first love, and it is clear what a man he was from your mother’s telling and from you yourself.”
“But you—but the blood tie—I heard men talking …”
“Men talk. Men always talk. I am your father now and proud to be so. I am a duke; I can choose my heir as I will.” Arcolin laid his hand on the boy’s head. “I choose you, Jamis, so long as you do not disgrace yourself—and that would be the same if you were child of my seed.” He looked up at Calla. “We have had no formal ceremony because Jamis is so young yet, but if it will ease your mind and his, I will have it done.”
“Jamis?” Calla said. “What do you think?” She sank down to the floor in a rustle of skirts.
“Will it make trouble with other nobles if your heir is not your son by blood?” Jamis asked, a question far too mature for a lad his age.
“No,” Arcolin said. “Duke Verrakai’s heir is not her son by blood nor any relative of hers.”
Jamis flushed. “I just … I just want to have a da. And I try—I would try, truly—to be the son you want.”
“You already are,” Arcolin said. “But I think it is time we put something in writing so the king will know.” Inspiration struck. “Calla, it is early for you—what do you think of a visit to Vérella to see your parents and give them the news? You and Jamis could come to court with me.”