The Second Brother on the Third Stair

I momentarily thought about taking up a room in the soldiers barracks inside the castle walls. It was closer and I needed sleep. The idea of Sir Gavin and Sir Balor showing up in the middle of the night because my mother was already tired of their antics is what ultimately drove me toward my brother's home.

I ambled through the palace gates toward the familiar path that led to the city market. Benate's home was inherited from his father. I never met the spirited clockmaker. In fact, without his passing I would not have been born.

My mother kept the man's memory alive for Benate by telling stories of love and laughter. The gentleman had a brilliant mind and loved to fix things. My mother always affectionately called him "Sweet Lamb" or "Sweet Lambert" so much so that until fairly recently, my brother and I thought the endearment was part of his name.

Lambert worked creating, designing and selling clocks and other mechanical trinkets in the city market. Being a practical man, he built his home on the second story of his business with an exterior door accessible from a staircase. Although the shop is still maintained by Lambert's apprentice, my mother never sold the home she shared with her first husband.

Benate was only three when his father died. Our mother has never gone into detail about the infection that took his life, only saying he fought it for months before losing the battle. Whenever she talks about losing Sweet Lambert, she wishes us both long and happy marriages where we never have to bury a spouse. Sadly, she has now buried two.

In her grief, my mother barely could manage the storefront. As she says, she went about dazed and hurting. One such day she almost accidentally stepped out in front of a carriage, until two strong arms saved her from a grueling fate. She says that is when she literally fell for my father.

Lord Kedrick was already a Swordsman for the clan of Bear. Our mother was hesitant at first, or so the story goes. She thought true love only happened once in a lifetime. Their courtship lasted until Evalyn visited the countryside, where she fell in love with the community as much as the man.

My father raised Benate as his own. My burly older brother was barely six by the time I came into the picture and he has been my closest friend ever since.

Lambert's home was used by my family as our own makeshift inn whenever we needed to go to the city. My mother gifted Benate the keys to his father's home on his 18th birthday, saying it was Sweet Lambert's wish that his son would one day be blessed by the dwelling.

Benate packed up and has lived in the city ever since, much to our mother's protest. Although I know he enjoyed growing up in the countryside, his handyman skills are more profitable in the city.

My trip down memory lane consumed my time enough for me to reach the bottom of the staircase of my brother's home. In my distracted state, I forgot to skip the third stair. It creaked in a loud protest. I know better than to use it, so I really must be tired.

I waited a moment on the fourth step just to make sure I did not wake anyone in the houses of the sleeping city market. After a few moments of blessed silence I continued my lumbering.

I used my spare key, hoping not to disturb my brother at such a late hour. As the door opened, the clocks in the store below chimed the late hour loudly and clearly, startling me. I chuckled at my own skittishness while proceeding into the home, slightly embarrassed by jumping at the sound.

That is when I realized my mistake. A lumbering shadow rushed toward me from behind the door. I tried to dodge the attack, but was caught in the embrace of two large arms, pulling me toward the unknown aggressor. I pushed my weight into the embrace, making us both fall off balance. We tumbled over each other in the darkness.

Somehow I did not win the battle to remain on top of the messy tangled web of limbs. My senses heightened and in a surge of self preservation, I tried to throw my captor from atop me. The hulking figure did not budge. I was pinned. That moment of stillness allowed reason to take control of me.

"Benate! It's Holden! Get off of me!" I barked into the darkness.

"Holden?" My brother replied as he slowly climbed off of me. "Why did you not skip the third stair?"

"I'm tired. That's why. Do you always attack people who forget to skip the third stair?" I asked incredulously.

"Only when they come in the middle of the night without warning!" Benate retorted with a valid point. "You could have been a thief who finished with the shop and was looking for more. Just be glad I didn't pick up my sword."

"I suppose that's fair," I responded. Although I was the Swordsman for our clan, my brother's skill with a sword was almost inhuman. I always thought that our clan might have chosen the wrong brother to hold their highest position. "You probably would have skewered me. I haven't gotten much practice hanging out with teenage nobility the last few days."

Benate yawned, tired after the excitement of tackling me wore off. "Not all those young ones are terrible with a blade. Do you know Lady Calista? Did I tell you about the time we once both disarmed each other in a sparring match?"

"Wow. That's impressive." I stated keeping my tone light. Even in the darkness I did not risk rolling my eyes in fear that Benate might see and ask more questions. In my brother's home I could not escape stories of my babysitting charges. Oh well. Tomorrow is another day.