“Andreas is not taking this well,” he muttered. “Neither are Reed and Corey. You know that Corey nearly lost his infant son recently.”
“I know.”
“He cannot take much more of this grief.”
Scott’s gaze fixed on his twin brother. They were separated by minutes in the birthing order and couldn’t possibly have been more different, but when it came to the love of family, they were the same.
They had shared much heartache together.
“He can,” Scott murmured. “He will if it comes to it. And so will you. You and I know better than anyone that life goes on.”
Troy looked at him. “Not if Gar dies,” he said. “I have decided that if he dies, I will go with him.”
Scott frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Youknowwhat I mean.”
Scott did. He also knew that Troy wasn’t being overdramatic. He meant it. “You would do that to Rhos?” he asked softly. “You would do it to your children? And how do you think Gar would feel about that? For him to be the cause of his father’s death?”
Troy’s jaw was twitching furiously and as Scott watched, tears sprang to the man’s eyes. “I suffered the loss of two children before,” Troy said hoarsely. “Little girls who’d not yet lived their lives. But to suffer the loss of a son… a young man who had finally found happiness in life… I do not think I can take it. I cannot accept it. I do not want to be left behind to pick up the pieces that he will leave when he goes. I cannot do it again.”
Scott could hear the pain in his voice. He put a gentle arm around his brother’s shoulders, trying to comfort him.
“And I have lost a son,” he whispered. “I lost Andrew when he was young, just as you lost Arista and Acacia. Could I stand to lose Tor or Will? Of course I would not want to weather that. No parent does. But you must think of what you would leave behind.You have other sons who would know you took your own life. What message would that send to them? That their father was not brave enough to face death? How do you think that would make them feel, losing Gar and then losing you?”
Troy’s head was down as he wiped at his eyes. “I know,” he muttered. “I know, but I cannot stand the thought of losing Gar. It will destroy me.”
“He’s not dead yet,” Scott said. “Mother and Rhoswyn have been pouring rotten tea into his mouth every chance they get. If anything can heal him, that can. It will. You must have faith.”
“That is something I have little of these days.”
Scott knew that, but he didn’t say so. Troy’s faith had always been tenuous, at best, so it was difficult for him to lean into it. He gave his brother a final squeeze before dropping his arm from his shoulders.
“Come with me,” he said, pulling at him. “Let us go see to your son.”
Troy simply nodded, dumbly, for lack of a better reply. He let Scott escort him from the hall to the stairwell that led up to the master’s chambers. As the two of them headed up the steps, William and Paris watched them go.
The older men hadn’t heard the conversation, but they didn’t have to. It was enough to see Troy’s tears and Scott’s gesture of comfort. Sometimes being a parent was particularly painful and it was something all the men lived in fear of.
Losing a son in battle.
It was the great horror they hoped they never had to face.
“How badly off is Gar?” Paris asked softly.
William rubbed his one good eye wearily. “Bad,” he muttered. “Very bad.”
“Should I see to him?”
It was well known that Paris was an excellent healer. He had been since his youth. William stopped rubbing his eye and looked at him.
“I thought you were marching with the army?” he said.
Paris shrugged. “They do not want me,” he said. “I know they do not want me, so I go. The more they don’t want me, the more I go. But seeing to Gar would give me an excuse not to go.”
William stared at him a moment before breaking down into soft laughter. “You are a conceited devil,” he said. “Would I rather have you see to my grandson than ride to battle? Of course I would. But I did not want to ask.”
Paris smiled faintly. “You know you can always ask me anything,” he said. “Whether or not I do it is another matter.”
