by N. C. Reed
“Master Feng,” Parno nodded. “I am what troubles me.” He continued, motioning for Feng to take the other chair near the fire, “My stupidity had led to this mess. My blindness, and carelessness.”
“In what way have you caused this problem, young Prince?” Feng asked, taking the chair. “How is it that you are so responsible?”
“I spent much too much time in her company, Feng,” Parno admitted. “She knew my mother, you see. Knew her and was with her when she died with me in her arms. I had never had anyone to tell me about my mother.”
“I fail to see that this is an issue for doubt or guilt.” Feng observed.
“I should have known that my spending so much time with her…around her…would lead to suspicions like this. I was blind to the danger even though apparently my brother Therron was not. I sense his fine hand in this. I have a poor reputation, you know, it is only natural that her husband would suspect something. Had he not, I’m sure that Therron whispering in his ear would have planted the seed, then watered it until it took root. Yet I failed not only to see it, but to even consider it. Thus. . . .”
“Thus you have decided that you are to blame,” Feng finished for him. “Have you considered that the Lady has explained all this and the gentleman refuses to hear? Or to believe?”
“I’m sure she told him what was happening,” Parno nodded, “but that’s not the issue. It was my carelessness that led to his being suspicious in the first place. I failed to even consider the possibility. If I had, then I would have been more careful of how much time we spent together and of how it was spent. I am a fool.”
“I have noticed, my young Prince, that you are very good at casting dispersions upon yourself.”
“Well, I’m guilty of many things, Master Feng, but dishonesty isn’t among them. I have, I’m afraid, earned most of the little titles I’ve been given over the years. I do chase women. I do drink, often to excess. I am prone to brawl, especially in public places. These are not the actions of a member of a ruling family.”
“Indeed?” Feng’s eyebrows rose as one. “I have known many noble families in my time, young Prince. Social behavior is not the true test of nobility.”
“It isn’t?” Parno grinned, in spite of himself.
“Not in the least,” Feng replied. “A Royal Dynasty is both a blessing and a curse, young Prince. Dynastic families often give the people of a diverse land something to cling to—to believe in, if you will. Something greater than themselves or greater even than the people of that dynasty. True, some generations of every dynasty have poor rulers, but a strong and powerful dynasty can survive even that.”
“The curse, on the other hand, is that the people of that land often begin to raise their leaders, their rulers, to a higher plane of existence than mere mortals can achieve. Physically, emotionally, and mentally you are no different from any other young man your age in good health. You desire the company of a woman, the taste, or perhaps the effect, of alcohol. You respond to challenges. Such things are natural and in a man not of a dynastic family they are considered normal.”
“You however,” Feng leaned forward slightly, “are not only the son of a dynastic king, but also a victim of a dysfunctional family arrangement. You have been told since birth that you are the cause of your mother’s death. You have rebelled against your family since you have been old enough to do so. This is also normal. Were you the product of a peasant or commoner family, you would have simply left to make your way in the world absent the guilt that the other family members place upon you. Unfairly placed upon you, I might add.”
“But you do not have that option, Parno.” It was the first time Feng had ever called Parno by his name and it grabbed the Prince’s attention.
“No, I don’t,” he agreed quietly.
“So instead, you rebel. A natural reaction. But consider this; had your family embraced you, as they should have, instead of ostracizing you, would that have affected your behavior? Would you, had you had the advantage of a loving home and family about you who cared for you, behaved in such a way as you say you are wont to do?”
“No,” Parno replied, after a minute of careful contemplation. “Likely I would not. I would. . . .”
“Would have sought to uphold the name of those who loved you,” Feng nodded, “an admirable thing in any society. Denied that, you have acted as you have. So, while every man is responsible for his own actions, he cannot always claim to have power over those things that influence him.” Feng stood suddenly.
“You have been a good student, Prince Parno McLeod. You are a good man as well. Better, I think, than you give yourself credit for. Remember that as you contemplate how culpable you are in this, or any other matter.” Feng whirled, robes flying out, and disappeared into the night, leaving Parno staring into the fire once more with still more to think about.
*****
The small party arrived in Nasil after dark on the third day of travel. They had made good time, but both horses and men were weary. Fatigue was evident in the blowing horses and slumped figures of soldiers.
Parno led them to the Royal Barracks where the horses were stabled. Then the entire troop settled into the transient barracks and collapsed as soon as they entered. Whatever happened on the morrow, they would face it after a good night’s sleep.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Parno McLeod entered the Palace with a small flourish. He normally dispensed with such things, but today, he had decided, was not a normal day. The prince had dressed in simple uniform and his sword rested at his side.
Several people working in the palace noted the sword with raised eyebrows. Coupled with the look upon the prince’s face, the sword spoke volumes. Parno McLeod rarely carried a sword in the palace.
Parno rebuffed the chamberlain’s attempts to stop him, pushing the man gently aside as he made for the doors of his father’s private audience chamber. A look from Willard, who with Cho Feng had accompanied the young royal, silenced the servant.
Parno flung the doors open and walked into the room unannounced. His face showed neither surprise nor dismay at the sight of Edward Willows, standing before the king.
“Well, speak of the devil!”
Parno looked to the speaker, his own brother, Therron. Memmnon and Sherron were also there, Parno nodded grimly, having expected no less. His family sitting in judgment of him, as usual.
“Ah, my loving family, assembled to condemn me, no doubt,” Parno smiled, his voice dripping with not only sarcasm, but condescension. For once, he was in the right and the feeling gave him new strength.
“Condemnation you rightly deserve, I might add!” Tammon McLeod snarled.
“Oh?” Parno replied. “And why is it that I deserve it, father?”
“For violating the wife of a Peer of this Kingdom!” Therron’s snarl was, if anything, harsher than his father’s.
“I see,” Parno nodded, “and whose wife would it be?”
“You know damn well of whom I speak!” Tammon yelled. “Duke Edward has come before me to lodge a complaint against you. Because you are a member of this family, curse you, he cannot challenge you, thus he has used the only recourse open to him. Laying it before me!”
“I see,” Parno repeated, eyes aglow. “Well, may I hear the charge, then?”
“Adultery,” Memmnon told him, his voice subdued. “With the Duke’s wife, Edema.”
“I thought as such,” Parno nodded, unfazed. He looked at Edward a minute, then strode to him. Edward flinched in spite of the presence of the King, but not quick enough. Parno’s riding glove caught Willows first on one cheek, then the other, so quickly that no one had time to respond before the deed was done.
“Since you feel you cannot challenge me, sir,” Parno’s voice was deadly calm, “I shall challenge you. You have stained my honor and that of your Lady. I await your pleasure.”
“You dare!” Therron rose from his chair. “Guards! Take the prince. . . .” Therron’s voice broke off abruptly as Willard
and Feng moved quietly to Parno’s side. Therron looked at Feng with contempt, then turned to Willard.
“Colonel, you should think about what you are doing,” he warned thickly.
“I have, Milord,” Karls bowed slightly. “My Lord Parno is guiltless in this and my honor as his retainer demands that I stand by him.” Therron’s eyebrows rose at that, but he said nothing else.
“I am waiting, Duke Edward,” Parno said into the silence. “I demand satisfaction for your slurs against not only my honor, but those of your Lady. A finer woman than you rate, sir. A woman loyal to you, and loving. You have dishonored a woman who is the closest thing to a mother I have ever known. For that, I will have your blood.”
Breaths were heard all over the chamber at Parno’s words. His words had been chosen carefully. Guaranteed to focus everyone’s attention.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Edward stammered.
“I’m talking about using your blood to clean the stain of dishonor from myself and your lady,” Parno said calmly. “Of course, knowing as I do that you lack the same courage with deeds that you claim with words, you may choose a champion to fight in your place. I would expect nothing less from such a coward, after all.”
“Parno!” Memmnon called sharply. “You cannot. . .”
“Cannot? Brother?” Parno asked. “Indeed I can, Memmnon. This. . .gentleman, has stained my honor and that of a woman dearer to me than my own life with his accusations. The law clearly allows me to challenge him and I am required to do so, if I should regain my honor….and hers,” he added, casting a venomous glance at Willows.
“Explain yourself, Parno,” Tammon McLeod said quietly. For once his voice was subdued when speaking to his youngest son and lacking any sort of criticism. If anything, some noted, there was a look of sadness on the King’s face.
“It is too late for explanations!” Therron shouted, on his feet once more. “The challenge has been laid, and must be. . . .” Therron broke off again as Tammon McLeod turned his gaze upon the middle son.
“Do not forget, Therron, who it is that rules here,” the King spoke softly, but his words carried. Therron paled and took his seat. Tammon looked back to Parno. “I’m waiting.”
“I was invited to the Duke’s home some months ago for a harvest ball. There I met the Lady Edema for the first time in anything other than a court function. In the course of conversation, she mentioned that she had known my mother. Indeed, had been present when I was born. That she and the Duke had been friends of you and mother before you were even wed.”
“That is true,” Tammon nodded. “Lady Edema and your mother were very close.”
“Lady Edema, at my request, told me of her,” Parno said quietly. “Told me about my mother, something no one else had ever bothered to do—other than to lay her death at my feet, of course, which was something my loving family never missed an opportunity to do. She told me about how my mother lived, instead of her death, a death which was not my fault.” He looked to Edward with nothing by contempt.
“She treated me with a kindness that I have rarely experienced, Duke. I do not expect you to understand, nor do I care if you do. Nothing has occurred between the Lady Edema and myself, except that she took pity upon me and told me about my mother. She also talked about your travels to the North. I have never been there and do not expect ever to go. Thus, through her eyes and yours, I have experienced the Nor lands.” He turned to face his father, eyes bright with hate, anger, and disgust.
“And for that, this witless, gutless, fop, comes before you to accuse his wife, a loyal and loving woman, dedicated to him, of adultery. His lack of courage brings him here, to you, rather than to face me. Fine. I am here and I will gladly give him satisfaction. Who knows, he might even win. That would solve all your problems, father. Would it not?”
Tammon McLeod’s face reddened at that and Therron leapt again to his feet. Before he could speak, however, Parno leveled his hate filled gaze upon the middle son.
“I advise you to hold your tongue, brother,” Parno warned him softly. “I tire of your intrusion into a matter which is of no concern to you. Unless, of course,” he added with a mocking smile, “you wish to be Duke Edward’s champion. In which case, I would welcome your intrusion.”
Therron McLeod’s face flushed with fury but before he could answer a firm hand took him by the shoulder and pushed him into his chair once more. Therron jerked his head around, to see Memmnon’s piercing gaze.
“Sit, Therron,” the Crown Prince ordered. “This isn’t any of your business, unless you do intend to champion Duke Edward’s cause, which I must warn against unless you have some deep seated urge to die which I am unaware of.” Therron’s face flushed even deeper at those words.
“You think that impertinent whelp could defeat me?” he snarled in fury.
“I think that he would kill you if the chance presented itself,” Memmnon smiled, almost mockingly, “and you seem determined to give him that chance.”
“Enough,” Tammon declared, his voice again not loud, but carrying. He looked to his youngest son.
“Parno, you will offer an apology to Duke Edward.”
“I will not,” Parno replied calmly. Sharp intakes of breath were heard throughout the room. Not even Parno had ever openly defied the King before.
“What?”
“I will not,” Parno replied. “I have issued a challenge. As challenged party, he has the right to demand an apology, but I am not required to give it. He may call himself a coward and withdraw his claims, or he may answer.”
“I am ordering you to apologize, Parno. I find that your behavior is not - ”
“You cannot force me to do so, My King, and I will not yield in this matter,” Parno was amazed at how calm his voice was. “The law is clear and even the hated son has the right to the law.”
“Damn you, Parno,” Tammon was furious. “Why must you always defy me?”
“Why must you always lack faith in me, father?” Parno shot back. “There is no pleasing you. No way to win for me. I have grown up without a mother and thanks to you, without a father as well. All of my life you, and they, have hated me and I have taken it. I will no longer yield. He may answer or withdraw his accusations as publicly as he made them. There is no other course of action open to him under the law.” He looked calmly to Memmnon, who nodded slowly in agreement.
“He is correct, Father,” the Crown Prince spoke slowly. “The law is clear.”
“I will not allow this!” Tammon said loudly.
“It is not within the power of the king to deny the rights of the law to a citizen of the realm,” Parno spoke evenly. “Had you given me even a shadow of confidence, showed any faith in me at all, and asked me to repudiate the charges, I should have done so. Unfortunately that is beyond your ability, My King. I am guiltless in this matter, as is the Lady Edema. There is no going back.”
“You would challenge a man who is not a warrior, in order to regain your honor?” Therron baited.
“I have offered the Duke the option of choosing a champion is his stead, Therron. Are you offering to do so? You certainly claim to be a warrior. This offers you a chance to do something that your heart so greatly desires. Slay me.” Therron’s face gleamed in triumph and he started to rise.
“No,” Tammon declared. “There will be no royal battle, here. As the law requires, there will be justice. Duke Edward,” Tammon looked to Willows, “you may choose yourself a champion or face Parno yourself, but your champion will not come from the Royal family. What is your answer?”
Willows turned to Tammon, face white and lips trembling.
“My Lord, you know that I am no warrior. How can I be expected to face Prince Parno in battle?” No one missed the Duke’s furtive glance toward Therron McLeod, nor the desperation in his voice.
“Perhaps you should have considered that before you accused me,” Parno said, his voice mocking.
“Silence,” Tammon ordered. “Duke Edward, you ha
ve made harsh accusations, which have been answered not only with repudiation, which I might add agree with those of your Lady, but with a challenge as well. You must answer.”
“I have no champion, Milord,” Willows wailed. “My retainers are merchants and guards, not warriors! I have no one that I can call upon!”
“I will offer you my champion, Duke Edward,” Therron said, his voice tinged again with triumph. “Do you accept?”
“Yes!” Willows jumped at the chance so quickly that neither Tammon nor Memmnon had the chance to intervene.
“Very well,” Therron said, rising. “Parno, you will face. . .Enri Willard.”
A gasp erupted from the room but Parno heard the strangled cry of anguish from behind him and his heart sank. He turned to look at a white faced Karls.
The room was silent as a tomb. Everyone there waited to hear what Prince Parno would say.