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anticipated. In his fantasies in the forests of Manza, whenever he let his mind conjure up the longed-for
moment of his return to Keilloran, he had imagined himself skipping down this path, singing, blowing
kisses to shrubs and statues and household animals. He had never expected that he would feel so somber
and withdrawn in the hour of his homecoming as in fact he was. Some of it, no doubt, was the
anticlimactic effect of having achieved something for which he had yearned for so many months, and
which had so often appeared to be unattainable. But there was more to it than that: there was Rickard's
mood, and Cailin's, their silences on the drive, the questions that they had not answered because he had
not had the courage to ask them.
His youngest brother Eitan was waiting at the door, and his other two sisters, the little ones, Bevan and
Rheena. Eitan was still only a small boy ten, now, Joseph supposed, still round-faced and
chubby and he was staring at Joseph with the same worshipful look as ever. Then tears burst into his
eyes. Joseph caught him up, hugged him, kissed him, set him down. He turned to the girls virtual
strangers to him in the time before his departure for High Manza, they had been, one of them five, the
other seven, forever busy with their dolls and their pets and greeted them too with hugs and kisses,
though he suspected they scarcely knew who he was. Certainly they showed little excitement over his
return.
Where is Father? he wondered. Why is Father not here?
Cailin and Rickard led him inside. But as the three of them entered the house Rickard caught him by the
wrist and said in a low voice, almost as though he did not want even Cailin to hear what he was saying,
 Joseph? Joseph, I'm so tremendously glad that you've come back.
 Yes. You won't have to be Master here after all, will you?
It was a cruel thing to say, and he saw Rickard flinch. But the boy made a quick recovery: the hurt look
went from his eyes almost as swiftly as it had come, and something more steely replaced it.  Yes,
Rickard said.  That's true: I won't have to. And I'm happy that I won't, although I would have been ready
to take charge, if it came to that. But that's not what I meant.
 No. I understand that. I'm sorry I said what I did.
 That's all right. We all know I never wanted it. But I missed you, Joseph. I was certain that you had
been killed in the uprising, and and it was bad, Joseph, knowing that I'd never see you again, it was
very bad, first Mother, then you 
 Yes. Yes. I can imagine. Joseph squeezed Rickard's hand. And said then, offhandedly,  I don't see
Father. Is he off on a trip somewhere right now?
 He's inside. We're taking you to him.
Strange, the sound of that. He did not ask for an explanation. But he knew he had to have one soon.
There were more delays first, though: a plethora of key household officials waiting in the inner hall to
greet him, chamberlains and stewards and bailiffs, and old Marajen, who helped his father keep the
accounts, and formidable Sempira who had come here from the household of Joseph's mother's family to
supervise all domestic details and still ran the place like a tyrant, and many more. They each wanted a
chance to embrace Joseph, and he knew it would take hours to do the job properly; but he summoned
up a bit of the training he had had from Balbus, and smilingly moved through them without stopping,
calling out names, waving, winking, showing every evidence of extreme delight at being among them all
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once more, but keeping in constant motion until he was beyond the last of them.
 And Father ? Joseph said, insistently now, to Rickard and Cailin.
 Upstairs. In the Great Hall, said Rickard.
That was odd. The Great Hall was a place of high formality, his father's hall of judgment, his seat of
power, virtually his throne room, a dark place full of echoes. It was not where Joseph would expect a
long-lost son to be welcomed. But his father was, after all, Martin Master Keilloran, the lord of this
estate these many years past, and perhaps, Joseph thought, many years of lordship will teach one certain
ways of doing things that he was in no position yet to comprehend.
Joseph and his brother and his sister went up the grand central staircase together. Joseph's mind was
spilling over with thoughts: things he would ask, once he had told his father the tale of his adventures, and
things he must say.
He had it in mind to resign his rights as the heir to House Keilloran. It was an idea that had been lurking
at the corners of his mind for days, only half acknowledged by him; but it had burst into full power as he
came down that double row of smiling, waving, cheering Folk of the House. He would abdicate, yes. He
would rather go to live among the Indigenes again, or as a peasant-farmer among the cuylings of Manza,
than rule here as Master of the House, rule over the Folk of Keilloran like a king who has lost all yearning
to be king. By what right do we rule here? Who says we are to be the masters, other than ourselves, and
by what right do we say it? Let Rickard have the task of ruling. He will not like it, of course. But Rickard [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]