Page 172 of Dragon Slayer

“Oh,” Val said, understanding, heart twinging with sympathy.

“They thought it witchcraft. A curse of some sort. My parents tried to explain to them, but they’d seen me shift, and they…” He drew a ragged breath, blinking hard. “My parents were killed. The monks took me in.”

“Oh, my dear. I’m so sorry.” He wanted to lay a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder, but wasn’t sure it would be read as reassuring.

Nestor wiped quickly, ashamedly, at his eyes, and lifted his head, offered a smile. “And now I’m here.”

“And now you’re here,” Val echoed. “I’m sorry for that too.”

The other recruits, a few of them sitting or lying on the grass, stretching their muscles, suddenly all snapped to attention. They got to their feet and lined up, ramrod-straight and correct.

The sultan had arrived at the practice field.

“Wait here,” Val instructed Nestor, and went to meet his lover.

Mehmet was flanked, as usual, by a pair of janissary guards. He’d left Halil Pasha behind, thankfully. He stood with his arms tucked behind his back, head tilted back, testing the air with his nose.

“What is that fascinating smell?” he asked. “I smell a lot of sweaty humans, and…something else.” He cocked a brow, inviting an explanation.

Val had to phrase this very carefully. “Will you walk with me a moment?” he asked, smoothing his face into something pleasant and inviting.

Mehmet nodded, and motioned for his guards to stay put. They set off across the practice yard, side-by-side.

“Is it a familiar smell?” Val asked.

“No. Well…not exactly.”

“Remember when my brother was here? Briefly? And he brought his household?”And you threatened to kill my mother in the garden.

“No, that…Wait.” He ground to a halt, and turned to face Val fully. “It’s awolf, isn’t it?” His eyes sparkled with excitement. “Did my people manage to accidently capture one of the beasts?”

“Now. Darling.” Val held up a staying hand that Mehmet’s gaze went right to, an immediate questioning of Val’s boldness. He pressed on anyway. “It would be helpful to adjust the way you think of wolves in general. And perhaps this one in particular. They’re not beasts – they’re immortals just like you and I.”

Mehmet snorted. “They’re nothing like you and I. What is it they’re called?”

Val withheld a sigh. “Familiars.”

“They’reservantsfor beings like us. That’s the very definition of a beast.”

Val let his displeasure show.

“Are you lecturing me?”

“Never.” He inclined his head. “Though I might advise a bit more subtlety in situations such as this.”

“You.” Mehmet pointed at him. “Have grown spoiled.” There was no threat to his words, though. “Alright, show me this wolf,” he said, walking again. “I suspect he’ll make one of our better warriors.”

Val fell into step beside him with a wince. “Actually, I’m not so sure. This one appears to be more of a scholar.”

“What?”

“He was abysmal with the weapons.” Val decided to leave off the bit about artillery training. Mehmet had plenty of foot soldiers to blow up with his fragile canons, and his plan required Nestor to be very much in one piece. “And he says that he was training to be a monk in Russia, before joining your troops. He’s literate, and speaks several languages. I think he might be of better use off the battlefield.”

Mehmet was silent a moment as they walked, dry winter grass crunching beneath their boots. Finally, he said, “Wolves canread?”

“As I said: they’re not beasts. Being a Familiar doesn’t mean they have any less capacity for the arts, or research, or higher levels of reasoning.”

His expression grew thoughtful.

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