Fletcher

by P. S. Power

  “There, boy. Work that until I tell you to stop. It takes a good four hours to rough out a good bow from this point. Get to work.”

  Anders did. It was a bit boring, even if he could see the use of doing it well. To that end he tried extra hard, making sure he moved as quickly as he was able, while doing the work right. The bowyer didn’t seem all that pleased with his efforts when he sent him away before the noon meal. In fact, the man was gruff enough that the other guards there, working at similar tasks, chuckled at him as he left.

  Chapter five

  Not being ready for food yet, Anders drank a large amount of clean water, and set to find Master Belford for the afternoon lessons. Those, thankfully, turned out to be being held in the man’s quarters that day, which helpfully Prince Erold pointed out to him, waving as they passed in the hallway.

  “This way! I know that you weren’t told where to go for this, given the change in location. I was half afraid that it would be a run out to the far commons to find you. This works better for me. Not that we won’t both end up covered in sweat by the end of the day. How are you feeling?”

  The other boy, only a bit older and larger than he was, seemed to actually care about his health. That or he was being polite and had practiced seeming sincere. Anders smiled back, falling into step with him, instead of stopping to bow. That was their long-held tradition. One that was technically incorrect. Even between friends of the same age.

  “Better. Not truly well, yet. I can see that it will happen, which is good to know. How about you?”

  That got a sidelong glance and a head shake as they walked.

  “I’ve been better. Father and Mother are setting up a marriage for me. Some Princess from Modroc? That’s far to the south of here. No one has bothered to show me her picture as of yet, which probably means she’s a bit of a beast. They’re a large people and even their women are mannish. Not totally uncivil, at least. They say she has a good heart and a nice personality?” The boy did not seem convinced that would be enough for him.

  Which Anders understood. So did Farad, if not for the same reasons. His life had taken him so far from the path of having a wife or children that the idea frankly scared him a little. That Anders would, one day, need to find love or at least a place for a woman was a thing totally outside of his own experience. For both of them, the other boy only now having become a man in body. That was still taking place for him. The hair of a man was growing, under his arms and between his legs. None of note was on his chin yet. The style for men there was to do without hair on their faces, which would require a blade to make happen. Farad had, most of his life, worn a beard, since it was simply easier.

  He recalled how to take care of such thing however, from his own youth. That would take place, a need for that, sooner or later.

  “Oh.” He didn't know exactly what to tell his friend. It was clear from his memories that once made, there would be little chance for the boy to get out of that kind of thing. So if some young giantess was presented to him, in fighting armor and with a beard to best his own, she would still be his wife.

  After a few moments, he nodded.

  “You should go to them. Your parents. Even if she is less than comely, it would be better to know that now and be ready for it, rather than letting that show on your face when you first meet. No one can help how they are born. It is only through living that a person’s true face may be known.”

  The youngest Prince gave him a very strange look then. One that spoke of strangeness being displayed.

  “Almost dying made you wise now? That seems a bit much. I mean, it’s one thing for you to try and improve. Another to just suddenly be smarter than I am, don’t you think?”

  The correct answer, Anders was certain wasn’t to be polite and make the other boy feel good about himself. That wasn’t their relationship at all. Instead he nodded.

  “I was always this intelligent. I just hid it before, so you wouldn’t feel poorly about yourself.” That wasn’t the truth and got him pushed on the shoulder as they moved in front of Master Belford’s chamber door.

  Rather than do it back, since Erold knocked, Anders readied a bow, waiting for the heavy wood to give way. When it did, some moments later, the man inside, thin as always, smiled at them. Then bowed back, mimicking them perfectly.

  Rather than make corrections with his stick, the man simply nodded, the thing not even in his hands.

  “A bit more curve to the left wrist, Anders. Like this. That was very close. Enough that even at court few would think to notice it being wrong. Now, come in. We’re having mid-day tea.”

  That seemed to be a strange game to play. It was a thing that most days the lower class of people didn’t bother with at all. Prince Erold would, then, be at different lessons, since he was used to such things from long tradition, at a guess. At least there were memories of the boy being taken off to things like that.

  Meaning that Master Belford was providing a lesson for his benefit. It was slightly surprising. Everything about it was a teaching moment, as well.

  There was a low table, with a white cloth on it, a tea pot and three cups on saucers to protect the table. Next to them were linen napkins. Folded and sitting upright in a fanciful and delicate pattern. Three soft and cushioned chairs had been pulled around it, so that each could see the others as they drank their beverages.

  “Anders, you’ve done this before?” The tone from the Master was… Actually, far more gentle than it had been the day before.

  Even if there was a scowl when he shook his head slightly.

  “I haven’t. Which probably means that everything here is a trap for me, isn’t it?” He tried for good humor in the words. The other two chuckled at them, not even seeming to be unkind.

  Belford smiled at him.

  “It is, then! Very well. First, we must sit. There are few rules to the act itself. You simply put yourself down on the chair or cushion you are waved to. It goes in order of importance. So here Prince Erold will sit first, then myself, since this is my chamber and I’m providing the service. Then you, as a guest of similar stature to my own. Back straight and head up, gentlemen. The whole time. You may, if wearing trousers, cross your legs below the knees. If in a dress, or robe, then legs must be gently pressed together, unless in relaxed company. It’s never wrong to be formal.”

  They did it then, following the instructions. Erold kept himself very straight, his head high with legs apart for stability. Covertly, after the Master of the moment sat, Anders did the same thing, pressing the hallway of his mind to form a new set of memories, made up of the tea service rules.

  He was scrutinized closely. Then, so was Erold and the man in charge of the lesson, his thin face pensive, paused. Clearly reviewing himself, as a few points of posture shifted, pressing to be more correct. That meant Anders followed along. The Prince didn’t even though there was no scolding for him over it.

  That probably meant what the other boy was doing would be considered good enough, in most cases. Belford was merely attempting to teach him to do it very well, for some reason.

  “Now I’ll pour for us, being the host. The tea is already brewed. Some do that in the cup, which is slightly lower class. If you see such, don’t comment on it, merely wait until the beverage reaches a pleasant color and then remove the metal bulb. Note here that I pour carefully, the nose of the pot just kissing the ceramic of the cup? Then, you stop two finger widths from the top, each time. That prevents spilling or endangering a guest with such things.”

  Each cup was done, very precisely. When it was finished, the man settled the fine white pot and settled back a bit.

  “Again, we wait for the highest rank and go in order. Prince Erold?”

  He picked up his saucer and cup, one hand for the tiny plate the other on the handle of the cup itself. One thumb was on the edge of the flat piece, and two fingers and the other thumb were on the handle of the cup. A thing that Master Belford mirrored, exactly. Meaning it was some kind of officia
l rule.

  Anders did it as well. Holding his posture very upright, even if it was hurting his back a bit to sit that way. He waited for the others to take one sip, then did the same, hoping that wouldn’t be out of turn. The beverage was warm, without being too hot and the leaves were bitter. Astringent. Not truly good in flavor, though not horrible either. It was a nice change from only water.

  The Master leaned in then, his face shifting a bit.

  “Prince Erold, please go over the parts of tea code for us, if you will?”

  That sounded different and got a smile from his friend.

  “If you take your tea plain, you’re indicating that you plan serious business. With one dollop of milk, that you mean a pleasant but not too friendly, of a visit.” He nodded at the tray, which had several silver metal containers on it. “If you add honey, it indicates that you wish a secret meeting later. Specifically, for sex with whomever you look at while you add it. Sugar is similar, though more of an open invitation and is considered to be rather naughty. It’s best to avoid doing that one. Signals can be crossed too easily and you might end up with people in your bed that you didn’t really want there. You can’t send them away, either, since you asked.”

  There was no hint of joking about that. Master Belford just nodded.

  “True. Please, continue.”

  There was a pause then and another nod.

  “If you used one dollop of cream, that indicates you wish to discuss finances for some reason. Normally that you wish to borrow it. If you don’t make eye contact with a person, or try to, while doing that, then it will be assumed that you are asking everyone present for a loan. Avoid that as well. Even if you need the funds, it’s almost always a trap. Better to be poor for the moment than under the control of another.”

  Each part was committed to memory, since doing such things was old habit. It was interesting that such little things would carry meanings like that.

  The Prince went on.

  “Taking a biscuit or fancy generally means that you’re hungry. Truly, if someone provides such a thing, you should take one, even if it isn’t a kind you like. Refusing that would be seen as rebuking the host for some reason. If you don’t have a problem with them, it isn’t worth it. That’s about it. Unless you’re suddenly offered hard spirits. In that case… well, it won’t ever come up at a polite tea, like this. Normally that only happens if a loved one died recently. Generally, only with men involved.”

  There was a sip of dark brew, plain, from Master Bedford. Indicating he was there for business, which given it was a lesson, made sense. He took his own that way, while Erold added a single drop of milk to his. Just enough for a message to be sent. That he planned a more familiar but not too friendly of a visit.

  Then he sighed a bit.

  “I was just telling Anders that Mother and Father have picked a bride for me. Princess Sweyn of Modroc. I also mentioned that they indicated they have a picture of her, then refused to show it to me. Gently, which can’t be a good sign. It would be better if they were teasing about it. Then she might be a bit plain, or even a great beauty. That doesn’t seem to be the case. Anders suggests that I ask them to show it to me anyway, so that I can steel my nerves, if needed. He’s right, I suppose. If the arrangement works, I won’t be getting out of it. Better to know now, so that I don’t fail and accidently insult her later.”

  There was a slow nod from the Master, then a deep breath.

  “There is logic to those words. I would go slowly with your parents however. The new Magician here, coming from Barquea, Ambassador Depak, is going to consume their time for a while. No one knows what he has planned here. Certainly, a letter was delivered by the man himself, directly to the hand of the King, meaning it’s considered important. There was no scowling after or yelling, so it isn’t a declaration of war, thank all that is good. Anders, you’ve worked with the man today?”

  There was a bit too much certainty to the question. A suspicious amount of it, to be truthful. Anders saw no issue with answering the question, innocent that he was. Farad was older though, if not wise to the ways of courts and kings. What he was well versed in were stories. Ancient tales of what had gone on in the world before he’d been thought of, much less born.

  After a moment he answered anyway, since it was clear that Master Belford was one of his people and that Depak was not, even if kind to him so far. He needed to be there for his own people, if it was needed.

  “I did. Basic things truly. He’s already used magic to empty his chamber pot, making that portion easy. He was awake and seemed well rested when I knocked on his door at first light. He did send me off with a message for Princess Aisla, as his great granddaughter. From the sound they don’t seem to know each other well. He mentioned living away in the mountains for the last sixty years or so.” He took a sip of his tea then. The bitterness reminded him that they were there for business. At least Master Belford and himself.

  Each of them drank more tea for a moment, in near total silence. Master Belford was the one to go next, looking at Anders a bit too closely.

  “I heard at mid-day meal that you were working with the bowyer now? Sergeant Barkley, isn’t it? It seems he was tolerably pleased with your work, according to the head fletcher. You weren’t beaten or screamed at hardly at all?” The words were pleasant, if with a dark overtone to them.

  Prince Erold nodded, both showing far too much knowledge of his morning schedule for casual conversation.

  “As I heard it that sounds true enough. Kind words were also put about by Magician Depak about you from the sound of it. If that wasn’t sarcasm. No one seemed certain as of yet. Robarts mentioned it to Father earlier. He had it from Princess Aisla.” There was no real weight to the words. The glance with it was telling of something.

  A thing that Anders, the boy from the castle, didn’t truly understand. Scheming, probably. The trick then would be if that was aimed at him, which didn’t seem likely given the source or if it was being put toward another target. Even the boy he was merged with had a basic understanding of such things that told him to be careful around it. You didn’t have to be high or mighty to run afoul of someone else’s plans. A young boy could and might even, be blamed or accused of things that weren’t true in order to influence someone else, for instance.

  Which didn't seem to be the plan of the moment, given the topic. That was brought back around to him, rather quickly, by Master Belford.

  “I have from my brother, Jennings, that he intends to teach you bow and spear? That’s a bit common, isn’t it?”

  It didn’t take a genius to work out that Jennings must be Captain Ford. That Belford had an extra affix to his name was either then an affectation or a thing dropped by the other man. No one else seemed to be planning to teach him anything, unless Jennings was some third man, put to the task by the Captain. That seemed unlikely, given the similarities of the name.

  “I believe that is the plan. By law I have to learn and practice bow work. Spear is practical as well, since I might learn to make my own. As for it being common… That sounds true enough. I suppose there are different layers of such things? A horse bowman is different than a foot bowman, isn’t it? Not that I have a horse.”

  Instead of mocking him for being poor both of the others simply agreed, gently.

  Master Belford even bobbed his head, a bit.

  “Nor do I. Still, you should learn to ride, if the opportunity ever comes. If we end up going to war I hear it’s much nicer to do so on the back of a horse than to walk to the battle on foot. We should arrange lessons for that, then if Jennings wants to bother with you that much he can teach you to use bow and spear from there, if I understand how that’s done, correctly. Probably not, to be truthful. Still, it never hurts to learn new skills.”

  A bit of meanness crept into his voice as the man spoke. A thing that went away as the topic turned again.

  “Now, what do you two have planned for the rest of the day. I need to be off and use the inf
ormation that you’ve given me, Anders. Perhaps see if Princess Aisla is willing to entertain me this afternoon for a conversation about her great grandfather? A most pleasant and helpful woman, Princess Aisla. We’ll spend more time tomorrow. Calligraphy. I’ll provide pens and paper. Show up, here after the mid-day?” He looked at Prince Erold, hard enough to be nearly stern, then did the same with Anders. “Both of you, duties permitting, Anders. No hiding away on me, now. Each day there are lessons, you’re expected to attend. I won’t threaten to beat you if you don’t.” He stopped and finished his cup of tea. “No, I’ll sneak up on you and just start doing it when you don’t expect it. Jennings mentioned that you don’t know how to fight at all yet? I imagine that means I can pull that kind of trick for, oh, two years or so before you have both the size and knowledge to prevent it. That sound about right, Prince Erold?”

  Finishing his own cup, quickly, meaning Anders needed to as well, most likely, the youngest Prince rolled his eyes, playfully.

  “Perhaps. I did notice that you made that contingent on him showing up regularly? Instead of it simply being the plan day to day?”

  There was a laugh from the mean seeming tutor then.

  “I offer no assurance of that. Still, if you keep up as you did yesterday and today Anders, no one will have cause for that kind of thing at all. Though, your Mother mentioned that she didn’t get to see you much yesterday or this morning? She went to check on you earlier and found you gone. We were able to assure her that you were working away, instead of dying in a long-forgotten hallway. It seemed to please her to hear.”

  The cups were placed on the table and they had to bow themselves out of the room. Thankfully Erold was there to do it first, meaning that it wasn’t hard to get that it was supposed to be happening. Anders was a bit late on doing it, which didn’t get him beaten at all, just a raised brow from the tutor. The man didn’t even correct him.