“You’re kidding,” Kain said.
“No. As we pass through Penamere, I shall be on the lookout for material to fashion your first bow.”
“I would be honored.”
Devlyn smiled. “It is my gift.”
“How long have you trained with the long bow?” Kain asked.
“All my life. My family are bow smiths. I was shooting arrows before I could walk to pick them up. I can use any type of bow, but I prefer the long bow; its discipline is the most exacting, and those who are proficient can adapt it to the needs of any situation.”
They had reached the trees and, as they looked at the leaves to identify the trees and at the branches to see how the wood grew, Kain lost himself in the lesson. It was mesmerizing to see how the wood contained so many differing characteristics. He was opened to a whole new world of insight and began to look at the trees differently. Devlyn talked about what types of wood worked best for different kinds of bows, different kinds of arrows. He explained how to look for characteristics in the wood, so that a man could find within any tree the wood needed for the task he intended.
Once they had finished with the basics of the materials used in crafting bows and arrows, they headed back toward the grove. Kain noticed a bale of hay had been set before the wagon, and Devlyn stopped when they were about 30 paces away and began teaching the basics of shooting. They began by discussing the difference in the strength of different bows. Kain tried to draw back the string of the long bow, but wasn’t strong enough. Devlyn retrieved Kain’s bow, which Fairan had given him the day they had left the Monastery. Kain drew it easily enough and, after Devlyn had taught him how to aim, he was able to hit the hay bail. They continued on for at least an hour, until Gorton came to relieve Devlyn and begin Kain’s horsemanship lessons.
“It is odd to think of teaching a grown man about caring for horses,” Gorton mused. “Most children learn these things just by being exposed to it.”
“I guess I’m the odd man out then. Is there any hope for me?” Kain asked.
“Actually, you’ll learn everything the right way, no bad habits to unlearn, and you’ll probably be better off than most people.”
Gorton started his lesson with the saddle, and what was essential in a good saddle.
“There are a lot of different styles of saddles, saddles for different purposes. If you ever have to choose your own saddle, these are the things you look for.”
They identified several items. Kain worked hard to remember them. The saddle lesson didn’t capture his attention quiet like the archery had, but perhaps it was only fatigue. Gorton taught him how to saddle a horse, and then they practiced saddling all their horses. Then Kain learned the proper way to unsaddle a horse, and they practiced again. They discussed brushing the horse and cleaning the hooves.
When they were done, Kain was dirty, hot, and extremely tired. When they entered the grove, there were birds sizzling over the fire. Tooles placed a cup of cold water in Kain’s hand.
“Fairan tells me you are not overly fond of wine?” Tooles said; it was more of a question than a statement.
“I have only recently tasted wine. It is not disagreeable, only different. It’ll take some getting used to. And it does make me sleepy.”
“I understand,” came Tooles’ raspy reply. “I will make you another draught to help you sleep tonight.”
“What would really help me sleep would be a cool bath and some fresh clothes,” Kain said. “I’ll admit, we bathed regularly and practiced cleanliness at Aquista.”
“Of course, I am sorry.”
“No, don’t be sorry. This is the first I have said of it.”
“Well, I should have been more prepared. Give me a moment and you shall have a bath, although, I’m afraid Fairan will need to accompany you. We can’t risk losing you again.”
“That’s fine. And you really don’t have to put yourself out, I was just talking. I’ll be perfectly alright the way I am.”
“Nonsense, you are the Crown Prince of Belanda. If a bath is what you want, a bath you shall get.”
Tooles hurried around the grove, rummaging in his shelter, and produced some washing powder and some clean clothing for Kain. As the sun began to set, Fairan led him around the grove and past the wagon, where a spring fed pool was hidden. Kain striped off his clothes and sank into the water, which was cold, but, having been raised in the mountains by monks who never heated their bath water, Kain was right at home. He scrubbed his skin and then donned the clean clothes Tooles had provided.
“Vespin is full of surprises,” Kain said. “You would never guess just passing by this grove of trees that it was anything more than that. And yet, he makes such humble surroundings so comfortable.”
“You will find that Tooles is an extremely resourceful man,” Fairan replied.
“He said that something he did for my father cost him everything. What did he mean?”
“I don’t know the whole story. Belhain would never tell me what happened. But for most of your father’s reign, Tooles was his most trusted advisor. I was away with the army and, when I returned to the castle, he was gone and your father would not speak of what happened.”
“Did they quarrel?”
“All the time,” Fairan replied. “In fact a good advisor is one who tells you what you don’t want to hear.”
“What do you mean?” Kain asked.
“I mean, what good is to have people around you who are too afraid to tell you when you’re wrong. A good advisor is the one who brings opposing views that a King might not have considered to the table.”
“So you don’t think my father sent him away because they disagreed?”
“No, and I don’t think Belhain ever quite got over sending him away. In fact, I think he was sending secret messengers here for quite some time before he was killed. But if you want to know those secrets, you will have to ask Tooles.”
They walked back into the grove, where a table had appeared, although Kain could not imagine where it had come from. It was long enough for six men and positioned with the head before the large padded chair under Tooles’ shelter. The food, including what appeared to be freshly baked bread with butter, vegetables, and a pie that was still steaming from the oven, was all laid out on the table.
Tooles ushered Kain to the padded chair, which the young Prince sank into gratefully. He was tired and hungry, and, looking at the men gathered around him, he felt extremely happy. And at that moment he made a decision and acted on it.
As the others gathered at the table he said, “I would like to pray and thank the One True God for the blessing of this day.”
The others looked at each other in expressions of surprise. Kain did not wait for them to act, but merely stood to his feet, bowed his head, and spoke aloud. He thanked God for the food, for their safety, and for his new friends, ignoring their shuffling at this last part. Then, he asked for the One God’s direction and blessing on their journey and what tasks and dangers lay ahead.
Finishing his prayer, he sat back down. The others looked at him and sat, too. Then they watched him, waiting for him to begin the meal.
He held up his cup and said “I believe I’ll have some wine tonight.”
And at once the warmth and openness returned. Gorton began by pouring the wine, while Tooles placed platters laden with food before each of them. Kain ate heartily but, with an eye on the pie in the center of the table, made sure to leave room for dessert and not eat too much. Gorton was telling stories through mouthfuls of food, which he seemed to wash down with cupfuls of wine at a time. Everyone was caught in the revelry of the moment. After the pheasant and vegetables had been properly seen to, the pie was divided. The tangy blueberries were balanced perfectly by the flaky crust.
Kain was given another medicinal mixture as soon as the food was cleared away, and he sat drinking it as he listened to Gorton talk.
“We were coming up on the devils. They knew it, too; couldn’t outrun us, even as close a
s they were to the border. So they camped themselves in a large grove of trees. We couldn’t ride them down. We surrounded them, but we couldn’t do much more. We didn’t want to burn down the trees, so we just waited. We knew sooner or later they would come charging out. They have no patience, but not much in the way of brains either. We weren’t sure if setting a trap would have any effect. But we tried; we left Alister on the side of the trees between them and the border, and pulled most of the other riders away. Well, they fell for it, waited right until dark, just as we figured they would. They were counting on us not seeing them, and it never occurred to them that they wouldn’t see us. Out of sight, out of mind, you know. So here they come, trying to be quiet as they charged at Alister, who as you know has a flare for the dramatic. He goes racing off away from them, screaming bloody murder at the top of his lungs. That was our signal to race in and charge them down. I must have split 20 of their skulls that night, but they’re like vermin, no matter how many you kill they just keep coming back. It was utter chaos. And right in the middle of all the fighting, Alister came back, riding right through the middle of them, with both hands in the air holding flaming arrows. He was still screaming at the top of his lungs. It really put the fear of whatever gods they cling to into them. They broke for the hills, dropping swords, running over each other. We laughed about that for weeks.”
The men were laughing now, well into their cups. The wine was flowing freely. Only Kain refrained and, as he drank his mixture, grogginess overcame him. He fought to stay awake, to hang on to the moment. He didn’t want this day to end, but he was losing the battle. This was his moment to excuse himself. He did, moving to the bed under the shelter, while the rest of the group moved to sit in camp chairs around the fire. As he lay in bed, he strained to hear what they were saying. He only caught snatches of the conversation before sleep overcame him:
“He is genuine…”
“… a sharp mind…”
“… be ready, I’m sure he will.”
“… Westfold’s men’ll be waiting for us?”
“… only hope, if Lohpan arrives in time…”
“… may not make it ourselves…”
“…be prepared tomorrow…”
“…is risky, but we have to try.”
“… we’ll know soon… no turning back.”
Chapter 10
The next morning Kain awoke in that predawn hour when the sky shifts slowly to a gray haze. They were saddled and on the road before they could see clearly. The others had prepared everything and had only woken Kain up at the moment of departure. He had washed his face, then dressed quickly in his mail shirt and the over shirt Fairan had given him. His sword was strapped to his waist, but the other weapons were packed on his horse. There was a dull ache in his back and legs as he sat upon the horse, but he determined in his mind not to complain. He knew the troop would stop for him, and if they were in this much of a hurry, in fact they were eating as they traveled, he would not slow them down. They rode quietly as the sun rose, no one talking. Kain felt as if something were in the air, some unspoken worry.
After an hour on the road, they followed Devlyn off through a field toward a line of trees. The uneven terrain was more difficult to negotiate on horseback, but they eventually made their way. The trees were growing on either side of a busy little stream that bubbled and gurgled its way over and around the rocks in its bed. There was a well worn path here, barely wide enough for two horses abreast, so they rode single file, with Devlyn and Gorton in front of Kain, followed by Tooles and finally, Fairan. The stream angled away from the road, and the group rode on until they were out of sight of any travelers.
It was still early in the day; the sun was casting their shadows far in front to them.
“Why have we stopped?” Kain asked.
“For you,” said Tooles. “We don’t want to push you too hard today.”
“It would help you to walk some now and then, before we ride again,” said Gorton. “I’ve seen men go lame from too much time in the saddle before they were ready.”
Kain dismounted, as did Tooles, and they walked toward the streambed. It was the beginning of a beautiful day, and yet Kain could not shake the feeling that he was entering into a very dark period in his life. The mood of the group had not lightened with the rising sun, and Kain felt cold, despite his many layers of clothing and the warmth of the day.
“Why is everyone so quiet?” Kain asked Tooles as they walked along the stream bank. The others were leading their horses down the path to stay parallel with the walkers.
“I am afraid I received bad news yesterday afternoon. A messenger from Royal City had arrived earlier in the day at Dameris. The boy I bought the pheasants from told me,” Tooles replied.
“Why is that bad news?”
“Because the word is that Derrick of Westfold has taken up residence in Royal City. Which means he is more centrally located than we would like.”
Kain just looked at the older man questioningly.
“He will not be without a large number of his knights and soldiers. If they hear of our coming, we could be ambushed.”
“How could they know we were coming? We aren’t traveling along the Royal Highway.”
“A man as cunning as Derrick will not be without resources. He has spies throughout Belanda. Plus, he knows that Fairan is up to something, even if he doesn’t know what. And although your capture afforded them no real information, he will at least know that Fairan has gone to Aquista and is returning with you.”
“Do you think he would be able to find out who I am? I mean, couldn’t he have read the Royal Chronicles and found out the truth about me?”
“That would be difficult for him to do. He has no reason to be in the private chambers of the castle where the Chronicles were kept. And, if he had known, the men that captured you would have killed you. No, he probably thinks Fairan has gone to retrieve someone who can challenge his claim to Sarahain’s hand in marriage. He will think you a priest or prefect from the Monastery, not the Third Prince of Belanda.”
They walked in some silence and then Tooles spoke again.
“There are many things that a King must do to rule well,” he began, “and war is just one of them. You will have knowledgeable men around you, but there is one trait that is indispensable that you must find within yourself alone. You must be decisive. Men will live or die at your command. This land will be yours to keep, improve, or destroy. You will live with this burden. The others and I have talked. We will be presenting you with decisions along this journey. You must make them, and we will live by them.”
“Wait a second. What if I make the wrong decision? What if I say go left, and we need to go right?”
“You will have the information you need. You can question us; seek the answers needed to make wise decisions. But you must understand: once we reach Royal City, you must take control of your own destiny.”
“Are you leaving?” Kain asked as a tremor of doubt and fear flashed through him.
“No, we will be with you as long as you wish us to be. But accusations will fly that I have made you up, that you are being controlled by me or others. Your foes will slander you and try to drag you down. That is why you must be strong. Your people must see you leading; they must have confidence in you. And this is vitally important. We must win over the nobles. Some are already lost to you, but there are those who will follow you for your father’s sake. And there will be those who will follow you if you can win their hearts. For a King must live in the hearts of his people.”
“I don’t understand. How am I to do all this?”
“You should not worry. You have your father in you, and that is enough. But you must call on that strength very soon.”
Just then Fairan approached them.
“My Lord, shall we proceed?” Fairan asked Kain.
“Yes,” Kain said looking at Tooles.
The old man grabbed Kain’s arm as Fairan turned away from them.
; “You won the hearts of those warriors out there. Fairan in the fight in the forest. Gorton and Devlyn with your welcome, your mark, and your earnestness as they instructed you. These men will die for you if you ask it of them. That is the level of responsibility a King must bear.”
Kain didn’t know what to say. He was silent as they remounted, but he could tell that the walking had helped his soreness. They rode on in silence again, as the sun rose higher and higher. They passed several small farms, and Tooles shared how the Penamere lands were the King’s free lands. Men could live and work their own land, their taxes paid directly to the King. It was from these lands that the King raised the Royal army, while each of the other nobles governed their own parcel of lands and trained their own troops and paid the taxes for the people in his land from the taxes he levied on them.
Kain pondered these things, wondering how he would ever become a king when he knew so little of his own country, until the path widened and Gorton dropped back beside him and began to instruct him on horsemanship again. Kain was thankful for the opportunity to focus on something that was so practical and as real as the horse beneath him. They talked and rode until their stomachs began to burn with hunger and, finding a large tree with plenty of shade just off the path they were traveling, they stopped to eat and rest.
Kain walked again, this time with Devlyn, who discussed the trees around them, while the others prepared the food and cared for the horses. After they had talked for a while about archery, Kain decided to ask Devlyn about his home.
“I grew up in Penamere, the city. My father was the bow smith. My mother died giving birth to my baby brother. He died not long after. I grew up running the length and breadth of Penamere. I was always good with a bow, hunting was easy. My dad taught me his trade, but I had no desire to work in a shop all day making bows to sell or fixing other people’s weapons. So when I came of age, I joined the King’s archers, but they spend most of their time near the castle, drinking in taverns and taking the occasional archery practice. I left as soon as I could, and rode out to the borderlands. That’s where I met Gorton. His horsemen are as close to a family as I have now. They allow me to ride with them, but give me the freedom to be on my own when I want.”
Third Prince (Third Prince Series) Page 9