Two weeks later, Corm hears a forceful knock at his door. As the boy reaches for the door handle and begins to tug it open, he is thrown back into his room. Cormick looks up at the figure, anger clouding his vision, he speaks to the man suddenly.
“What is the meaning of thi-,” Cormick cuts himself off as he realizes who the person is, “Oh! Brother, what are you doing here?” Cormick looks at Dimytri anxiously.
It was clear by the sound of the elder boy’s voice that he was in a fury, “You filthy little rat! You stole my key to get into the treasury! I should have known what you were trying to do, getting me drunk on father’s wine. If I had it my way, you’d be paraded through this city like a common criminal, despite your age. I’d throw you into the Stockades myself! Steal from your own family, that’s disgusting! You’re lucky father still has hopes for you. A waste of time, I say. You’ll never become a paladin or warrior like me. Much too scrawny and weak. Stupid, too.”
Dimytri stares at his brother, his blue eyes teaming with more anger than their father had a few weeks ago. The older boy’s brown hair is cut short, which isn’t normal for the family. As he looks at Cormick, he rubs his white knuckles into a rosy palm, daring the child to respond. Dimytri takes a step closer to Cormick, straightening his powerful shoulders and back to tower over his little brother.
Corm stares at his older brother, bewilderment sharing his face with a hint of fear. Everything is coming down around him. He had planned that night ever since he first got the key. His father finding him was one thing, but now that Dimytri knows he was made the fool things could get much worse. How did he find out? Cormick thinks to himself. Their father was good at keeping things confidential. Even important things like this were kept secret, the fear of it spreading to the servants was too great.
Luckily, Dimytri answers Corm’s questions for him, “Dad gave me hell for you stealing that key! He found me that next morning still half drunk and without my key, he had me run more laps around the harbor and do more drills then I’ve ever done in my life. I bet you had your laughs then! You thought you were slick, didn’t you? Didn’t think I’d ever find out what really happened? Well, well, good thing our friend Mendes has loose lips with a bit of drink in his hands. Funny how this started and ends with a bit of alcohol.”
Cormick curses himself in his head. He should have known Mendes would be the one to cause more trouble for him. The old guard never liked the boy in the first place.
Not without good reason, Corm thinks to himself. The boy looks up at his brother, his mind racing for a way to satisfy his brother’s anger. The boy thinks back to his father’s ability to keep secrets, and his mouth begins to weave a tale to calm his older sibling, “Dimytri, what are you talking about? I never stole your key! I can’t believe you listened to a drunk who doesn’t even like me in the first place. Mendes never liked me! Always thought I was a troublemaker. Remember that time he accused me of stealing his nice leather boots? Father said he could search my room himself, but he didn’t find anything! This is just another way for him to turn us against each other. Please brother, calm down. I promise I didn’t steal your key, I would never do that! You could even ask father if you’d like.”
Cormick looks straight into his brother’s eyes. Only twelve years old and the boy has almost perfected the art of lying, considering no visible tell can be seen. Dimytri stares back at his little brother for several long moments before nodding slowly, convinced Cormick was telling the truth, “No, there’s no need to ask dad. Not like he’d tell me anyway, you know how he is with his secrets. You’re right though, I shouldn’t have believed Mendes. He always seems to have it out for you, I should have known he’d try something else. Break into the treasury, gah! I feel so stupid for believing his drunken tale. Maybe I should bring up his constant badgering to father?”
