In Which Isidro Is Led by a Familiar

July 28, 1181

Balin, despite having the agency to more or less invite himself to join the family all those years back, was not a dog who was prone to escape. On the off-chance, however, that he did get out, getting him to come back was never easy. He was a large dog, large enough that Isidro had enough trouble dragging him where he didn't want to go, too strong for the girls or even Riona to make him budge much at all. He was also quick, with an excellent sense for the speed of his pursuer; if Isidro ran, Balin would run, and Isidro tired much more quickly. If he wanted to catch Balin, a brisk walking pace with only the most gradual of spaced-out accelerations was the best way to go about it.

Of course, that meant it was never a quick job. "Stupid dog. Usually I can't get you to leave me alone."

Balin gave no sign of having heard and trotted along the side of the inn, single-minded, almost like he had a fixed destination in mind. He'd even walked past the sausages this time without so much as a sniff. "Balin, what are you up to?"

Strangely, the dog stopped and turned around, answering with a good-natured pant. Isidro seized his chance and caught up to him. "You're such an oddball."

He took a knee and rubbed between Balin's ears while a wet nose pressed against his chin. "That's a good boy. Come on, now--let's go home."

The dog yapped and resumed his original trajectory. Should've grabbed him. "Oh, you've got to be--hey!"

With little more than sheer will, Balin had pushed open the inn door and strutted inside.

"Come back! Seoth doesn't allow pets in there!"

The dog held the door with a swish of his tail and Isidro followed, though Balin stood still no longer than whatever human manners he'd picked up dictated. "Crazy dog..."

Balin stopped and turned his head. Isidro followed his gaze to the only other person in the room, a stranger seated at the far table. With barely a tilt of his head, the man's dark eyes met with the dog's.

"Uh... he's not bothering you, is he?" Isidro offered in some roundabout apology.

The stranger shook his head. "Oh, not at all. Just making sure that he remembers me."

Remembers? Isidro frowned as Balin rushed to the man's side and greeted him with a lick to the fingers. The man repaid him with a scratch behind the ear.

"Sorry, how do you know my dog?"

"Your dog?" The man shot him a wayward smile. "He's my dog."

Isidro swallowed. Four and a half years was a little longer than most owners of lost dogs would have searched, but... "Shit. I'm sorry. We thought he was a stray. My children--"

"It's all right. You may keep him if you wish. I get the sense that he likes you."

As if to confirm, Balin turned back to Isidro and looked up, begging for a stroke. More than a little puzzled, Isidro obliged. "How would you get that from just now?"

"We share a certain bond, he and I. I can't explain it much better than that." The man took a sip from the cup in front of him, then placed it back on the table with a tender care this inn rarely saw. "He's more of a dear friend than a pet. Almost a familiar, really. That's why I could trust him to keep an eye on you."

Balin licked Isidro's face, but in the shock of the words, he barely noticed. "Uh... sorry?"

"You apologize quite a bit. Given your upbringing, though, I can't say I'm surprised. Your father didn't value you much more than he did your mother, did he, Isidro?"

What? "How do you know my name? And why would you send your dog to find me?" Balin wagged his tail. Isidro guessed he could appreciate the attempt to ease the tension, but it did little to help. "Who are you, anyway?"

The man pushed back his chair and drew himself to his feet. "I'm your uncle."

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Riona Looks for Keys

July 17, 1177

"Funny little fellow." Casimiro chuckled as Balin landed a lick on his chin. "Is he part wolf, you think?"

Riona shrugged. The crazy dog had only been an official part of the family for a month or so, but it had been long enough that it was pointless to speculate about Balin's origins. Probably. "No idea. He just showed up one day and refused to leave. But whatever; the girls seem to like him, and he's obsessed with Izzy."

"We're not so sure about the girls yet, but the dog doesn't have much going for him in terms of taste." Isidro flashed one of Riona's least favorite smiles, an awkward grimace of self-deprecation. She tried to look away as an anxious queasiness welled within her, but gazing at the girls instead did little to steady it. She just couldn't understand how a man with so much love could find so little to spare for himself.

Casimiro laughed again as he turned away from the dog and drew toward them, though more halfheartedly this time, a quiver in his tone matching the ones in Riona's gut. He must have understood. He did know her Izzy as well as she did--better, possibly. "He might have better taste than you give him credit for, Is."

"I don't know; your taste was never so great either." Isidro reached behind his head and took to massaging the base of his neck while Riona fiddled with her wedding band. As much as she liked Casimiro and as much as he cared about his cousin, perhaps it would have been better if he stayed with Hilla and Bernardo instead. She doubted Isidro realized just how ill-equipped he was to cope with the remnants of his past life. "Anyway, why are you entering this tournament? You could easily get a knighthood back home, you know."

"I know--but I wanted to be closer to you and 'Nardo."

Isidro snorted in disbelief. "Your mother's been pestering you about getting married, more likely."

"Maybe a little." Smirking, he shot a wink toward Riona before collapsing on Isidro's other side. She wasn't sure whether or not she appreciated it. "But in all seriousness, I do like this place. Riona, you're friends with the duke's sister, right?"

"Rona?" Whatever was in her stomach shot straight up to her throat. If ever she felt some people didn't care for themselves quite enough, Isidro was far from the only one. "Yes..."

"Well... what's she like? Tell me honestly."

Honestly. Funny. If Casimiro wanted to marry Rona, then he didn't want to hear 'honestly'. Too bad she couldn't just tell him that without making her friend sound horrible. "She's a sweetheart. A little anxious at times, maybe, and a bit obsessive, but it grows on you. She's adorable, really."

"Adorable." Odd. He almost sounded disappointed. "Worthy of adoration. You don't want me to win, do you?"

"First place?" Casimiro nodded while Isidro frowned. Riona searched and searched for some way to explain herself but found no place to begin but a sigh. "Well... not really. Not that I think you'd mistreat her or anything, but she's a romantic. And she doesn't know how special she is. She needs someone who will show her."

"So you think I'd lead her on."

"No, just..." Just what?

Balin yipped. Grateful for the interruption, Riona paid him a glance, expecting to find him staring after Isidro as he always did but for once he was focused on someone else.

Her.

The dog made another small sound, then turned his snout toward Isidro. Riona smiled. Balin could sleep on the foot of the bed tonight if he pleased. "Rona's kind of like Izzy."

Isidro choked, a little red around the face as Riona turned back to the men. The silly man had no idea what she was talking about; Casimiro's grin, however, told her the comparison had not gone misunderstood entirely. "All locked up inside herself, you mean?"

Her husband opened his mouth to protest, but she stopped the words with a touch of her finger and shuffled nearer, her head resting on his shoulder as he draped his arm around her own. "All locked up inside herself."

"And I don't have the right set of keys."

"Not at all." If she glanced out the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a smile on Isidro's face--a real smile. She hoped it wouldn't bite her in the ass later if she decided that her own keys were cut to perfection. "But don't let me discourage you. Odds are, I'd rather see her with you than with any of the other jerks in this tournament."

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