“What’s this all about?” Athos demanded as soon as his brother opened the workshop door. “What’s gotten you worked up so?”
“Maelnar has summoned me! He asked for me by name, dolt! Should that not be cause for concern?”
“We fought side by side with his son,” Athos proudly reminded him. “Do you think it that improbable Breslin didn’t mention us to his father?”
“He wants to see it.”
“What? Your ax? Have you finished it?”
Venk turned and hit his brother on the arm hard enough to push him back a step or two. “Why would he give a ruddy hell about my ax? He wants to see Lukas’ mark.”
Athos cringed. He knew the mark on his nephew’s back was something Venk was desperately trying to keep hidden. “How would he even know about that?”
“Peridal. The old fool must have told him. How or when he met Master Maelnar I cannot fathom.”
Athos was silent as he considered the ramifications of his nephew’s deformity becoming known.
“Do we know what was said?”
“No.”
“Then there is nothing you can do. If you have been summoned to Borahgg then you must go. I wish I could go, too.”
“Then this is your lucky day.”
“Eh? What’s that?”
“We have been summoned, dear brother.”
Turning away from Athos’ thunderstruck expression, Venk called for his son.