Among the Barons

CHAPTER 6

Luke stared at the younger boy.

“I–I don’t know,” he admitted. It was probably the first honest thing he’d said to Smits. “I can try.”

Smits dropped his gaze.

“There’s something wrong with the way he died,” he whispered. Luke had to lean in close to hear.

“He was skiing, wasn’t he?” Luke asked. Luke had only the faintest idea of what skiing was. “Did he run into a tree or something?”

Smits shook his head impatiently.

“You don’t understand,” he said. “He—” Smits broke off, his gaze suddenly riveted on something far beyond Luke. Then he snapped his attention down to the ground and raised his voice. “Ugh! Why did you bring me here! Now my shoes are all muddy!”

Baffled, Luke glanced over his shoulder. A burly man Luke had never seen before was running down the hill toward them.

“I see you, Smithfield,” the man yelled. “Your game is up.”

The man came closer. It was like seeing a tree run, or a mountain — the man was that imposing. Luke could only watch in awe. The man had muscles bulging from his arms and legs. His neck looked thicker than Luke’s midsection. He had his fists clenched, as if he was ready to fight. Luke felt instant pity for any opponent this man might face.

“Hello, Oscar,” Smits said, his voice as casual as it had been back in the dining room, greeting all of Luke’s friends. He suddenly seemed like the little robot again.

“It is not funny, what you did,” the man — Oscar— raged. “I have fully informed your parents. They are not amused, either.”

Smits shrugged.

“Having a bodyguard is very tiresome, you know,” Smits said.

For a minute Luke was afraid that Oscar was going to slug Smits. The huge man stepped closer, but he did nothing more threatening than narrowing his eyes.

“It is necessary,” Oscar huffed. “It is not safe for you to go anywhere without protection. Especially”—he gazed distastefully around him, taking in the scrubby trees, the tall, untrimmed grass at the edge of the woods—”especially someplace unsecured like this.”

“Well,” Smits said. “Here’s Lee. Why aren’t you protecting Lee, too?”

Oscar’s gaze flickered toward Luke, then back to Smits. His glare intensified.

“Your parents hired me solely to protect you,” Oscar said. “I do my job with honor and dignity and pride.” He spoke so pompously, Luke almost expected Oscar to snap into a military salute.

Smits was rolling his eyes.

“So you say. ‘Honor and dignity and pride,’” he repeated, making a total mockery of the words. “You must have had a hard time explaining why you woke up hours late this morning, locked in your closet, when I had already left.”

“I blame you!” Oscar exploded. “Your parents blame you! I told them the whole story. You drugged me and dragged me into that closet.”

Luke decided he’d totally underestimated Smits if Smits had managed to drag Oscar so much as an inch. Smits would not be the last kid picked for a baseball team. He’d be the kid who could trample every other player, even without teammates.

“Me?” Smits said innocently. “I’m just a little kid. Where would I get anything to drug you with? How could I drag you anywhere?”

“You had help,” Oscar growled. “The chauffeur—”

“Hey”—Smits shrugged again—”it’s your word against his. And mine.”

“But your parents believe me,” Oscar retorted. He grabbed Smits’s arm and jerked him practically off his feet

“Come along. Let’s get you somewhere safe.”

“Fine,” Smits said. “You can wipe the mud off my shoes when we get back to my room.”

Oscar grunted.

Luke followed the other two up the hill. He kept a few paces behind. Smits seemed to have forgotten about him; Oscar had barely noticed him in the first place. Smits was now keeping up a running banter, making fun of Oscar for being muscle-bound and stupid and easily tricked.

What kind of a game was Smits playing? And — was it really a game?

Luke remembered the urgency in the other boy’s voice. “Can you help me? Can you be Lee?” And, ‘There’s something wrong with the way he died.” What had Smits meant?

Luke thought he’d been escaping danger when he took Lee Grant’s identity. Why did he suddenly feel like he’d only traded one peril for another?