Halcom nodded, and his face shadowed. “My existence was an embarrassment,” he admitted sourly. “My uncle feared that my presence in his household would cast a shadow over some pending betrothal arrangements he was negotiating. My father—his younger brother—has no backbone to speak of, and agreed that I ought to be persuaded to a vocation.”

“What?” Skif asked indignantly. “They figger you’d scare the bride?”

“My uncle suggested that the prospective bride’s father might rethink his offer if he thought that deformity ran in my family,” Halcom said bluntly, his mouth twisting in a frown. “Since my parents are dependent on his generosity for a place, I suppose I can’t blame them. . . .” He sighed deeply, and his expression lightened. “In the end, really, I’m rather glad it happened. I had very little to do with myself, I’m really not much of a scholar, and—well, needless to say, I’m not cut out for Court life either. I’ve always loved animals, and neither they, nor my fellow Brothers, care about this wretched leg of mine. And I did manage to shame my uncle into making a generous donation when he dumped me here.”

Skif nodded his head, concealing as best he could that he was racked by an internal struggle. He really, truly wanted to be Halcom’s friend. And he really, truly, did not want to make another friend that he knew he would only lose.

I ain’t stayin’ here forever, he told himself sternly. He wouldn’ be so nice if he knew what I was. Hellfires, he’d turn me straight over to th’ Watch if he knew what I was!

But he could almost hear the place whispering to him. It wanted him to stay. He could have a friend again. No one here would care what he had been, only what he was now, and what he might become. Oh, he’d never be rich—but he’d never starve either.

He steeled himself against the seductive whispers of peace. Him? Bide in a place like this? Not when he had a debt to repay! Not when there was someone out there that was so ruthless he would do anything to anyone who stood in his way!

Besides, this place would put him to sleep in a season. He’d turn into a sheep inside of a year. And if there was one thing that Skif had no desire to become, it was a sheep.

“Well, I imagine you’ve heard more than enough to send you to sleep about me,” Halcom said, hauling himself to his feet again. “And I still have my charges to attend to. I won’t keep you from your own duties any more, lad—but do remember what I’ve told you, and that if you want a second letter of commendation to go with the Prior ’s when you leave, I will be happy to write one for you.”