by Eagle Lady
“Then abide by her wishes, my lord. You have the boy now.”
“Aye, but I need my lady desperately.” Roydon spoke almost to himself.
“All will be, in the fullness of time. Now I must return to my home.”
“You are more than welcome to stay here.”
“Nay, I must return, I leave tomorrow.” No sign of doubt clouded the woman’s reply.
“As you wish, I will arrange for transport and an escort for you.”
“My thanks, sir. I will take my leave of the boy this evening. I know he remains in the best of hands.”
“He is my son, madam,” the pride and satisfaction came through loud and clear in the earl’s voice. “He will be treated accordingly.”
Chapter Five
Two weeks later the Earl of Eagle Rock did not feel as satisfied with his son. The boy who had been so willing to learn, so optimistic the first week, had become morose, stubborn and uncooperative. Both his steward and Sir Ivan had voiced their concerns to him and now it appeared to be Stefan’s turn. Truth be told, he himself had noticed Aguilus’ quiet despondency during the last week, but had been willing to give the boy more time.
“I do not think it is going to get better, Roy. You are going to have to do something about it.” Sir Stefan watched Aguilus disappear through the archway that led down to the kitchens. He went to refill the jug of ale with which he served the earl and himself at the High Table.
Roydon wiped at the sodden sleeve of his tunic. They had just finished the evening meal and this was the second jug that the squire had carelessly spilled tonight. “I am trying to give him time to adjust.”
“He is not pulling his weight, Roy. We both know he could do much better. You would never have countenanced this attitude or behaviour from Ivan.”
Both men turned to watch as Aguilus threaded his way towards them through the serfs dismantling the trestles tables in the Hall.
“I told you taking your own son as squire would not work. There is a reason why we send our boys out to foster; it prevents the squire misunderstanding the role between lord and father. Due to your son’s special circumstance, the boy is even more confused.”
“I have just found him, Stef. I have missed nine years of his life. I will not miss the next ten by sending him away to foster,” the earl was adamant.
“Still…” Stefan left the word hanging in the air as the squire silently filled their goblets and stepped back behind their chairs.
Roydon too remained silent, staring pensively, unseeingly at the servants as they finished their tasks, his long fingers tapping on the board. Abruptly he seemed to come to a decision; his face lost its thoughtful expression as he rose to his feet. “I think I will retire. Good night, Stefan.” The earl looked significantly, intently at Aguilus. “Come with me.” Without waiting for a reply from either of his companions he started across the Hall.
The squire glanced listlessly at Sir Stefan, kind of hunched down into himself and with bowed head, plodded miserably after the earl. The knight shook his head at the boy’s back but said nothing.
The earl’s solar was situated two floors above the Great Hall, in the West Tower. His lordship awaited the boy in a small ante-chamber outside his solar. Here the earl’s armour, as well as his personal weapons were kept. It was also where Aguilus slept, available should his lord need him during the night. The room had no fireplace but the bed, tucked against the back wall of the fireplace in the earl’s bed chamber, ensured its warmth. Ivan had slept here too during his training, now he had a room to himself in the Knight’s Hall in the middle bailey, with the rest of the Household knights. Only Sir Stefan as the earl’s friend had a chamber in the East Tower. The South Tower housed the earl’s daughters and their attendants and the North Tower was reserved for important guests or visitors.
Roydon waited patiently for the boy to arrive and then he led the way into his chamber, “Come.”
The big tub in which the earl had taken his bath earlier and at which Aguilus had assisted his lord, had been removed and the chamber tidied. A fire already roared in the fireplace, as the squire went about his nightly duties. Aguilus finished by lighting the candles by the enormous four poster bed and on the little table by the hearth.
Roydon sat in one of the two high backed chairs by the fireside as the boy finished his tasks and then came to pour his lord a cup of wine, before standing back to await his dismissal.
A long minute later the squire still waited and realising that something was wrong, he raised his eyes to find the earl’s dark gaze fixed on him. “Do you know why boys are sent away to foster with other knights to train as squires?”
Aguilus fell back a step as if he had been dealt a physical blow. “You are getting rid of me too.” It was a statement and the pain and resignation in the boy’s eyes almost made the earl speak out, but he refrained. He wanted his son to voice his fears and concerns, to tell him why he behaved as he did.
“Mother left me, then Nona abandoned me here and now you are going to send me away. Why does nobody want me? I knew this would happen. They told me in the kitchens and in the stables. It’s because I am a bastard.” Aguilus’ voice almost broke and the earl had to physically grip the arms of his chair to stop himself from gathering the boy into his arms, but he had to let the boy speak his piece.
Taking the earl’s silence for agreement, the boy faltered for a moment. How could he have been so wrong about his father’s feelings for him? Then, his golden eyes awash with tears he would not allow to fall, he squared his thin shoulders and looked the earl straight in the eye. “Well I don’t need Mother and I don’t need you either! I don’t need anyone! I will leave in the morning.” Turning around, his head high, Aguilus almost run to the door.
“No!”
The earl’s concise command stopped the boy in the act of opening the door. Incredulously he turned around to face his father, no longer caring to hide the tears that run unchecked down his face. “You wish me to leave tonight?”
The pain and despair in son’s eyes nearly brought the earl to his knees. Instead he rose to his feet and with an unsteady hand he motioned the boy to come back. He could not have spoken at that moment even if his life had depended on it.
Aguilus trudged listlessly back towards the earl, his head down, uncaring. He would probably get a thrashing now for his outspokenness and disrespect; then he would get dumped outside the gate.
Roydon sat down again and drew the boy forward to stand between his knees. With a finger under his chin, he raised the child’s head. The earl had to swallow the lump in his throat at the desolation he saw in his son’s eyes before he could speak.
“I did not say that I would send you away, Aguilus. I only asked if you knew why boys are sent away,” he begun softly, consciously keeping his hands on the boy’s shoulders to comfort him. “They are sent away to avoid confusion, misinterpretation and embarrassment to the young sons of the family. A squire’s training is harsh and unforgiving, as it should be, to prepare him for knighthood. But if the training and discipline is dispensed by the boy’s father or near relative it can lead to confusion and resentment. That is why boys are sent away. Discipline and obedience must be absolute between master and squire. Their lives often depend on this.”
Roydon lifted a hand to brush away the boy’s tears. “Do you understand me, son?”
The boy nodded reluctantly, but a rebellious glint appeared in his eyes that gladdened the earl’s heart.
“I could not bear to send you away,” the earl admitted, keeping his gaze steady on his son’s face. “Having just found you, I find myself incapable of sending you away.” Roydon bared his feelings to the boy, his heart in his eyes. “I care for you like I love my daughters, your sisters. Never for a moment doubt that.”
It was beautiful the way in which the shadows of despair lifted from the boy’s eyes, how joy replaced the desolation. “I will never send you away,” the earl reiterated. “We will just have to adjust and work through any problems. Ar
e you willing to do this?”
Aguilus nodded eagerly and although his face remained serious, like his father’s, a golden light shone in his eyes.
Aguilus looked away embarrassed and self-conscious, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his tunic. Roydon waited patiently, watching the emotions flicker across his son’s face. Finally the boy took a deep breath and looked up at his father. “I feared you would send me away. They said you would soon tire of your bastard son; that you would discard me like so much offal…”
“And you believed them?” The earl tried to keep the anger from his voice. “Who are these people?”
The boy shrugged. “In the kitchen, in the stables… I tried to ignore them but I felt clumsy and useless. I was being reprimanded and corrected all the time. I knew that eventually you would tire of me and…I am a bastard…”
“The reprimands and corrections will continue until you learn the way of things, this I have already explained.” The earl waited for the squire’s nod before he continued. “Your illegitimacy is something that I cannot change. To me it makes no difference, you are my son, my first born. Even though I only discovered your existence two weeks ago, you are as precious to me as my daughters.
“The condition of your birth matters only to shallow fools and ignorant idiots who know no better. Many men ignore or discard and abuse their bastards. That is their loss. If his parent’s marriage has been blessed by the church is not what makes a man. It is his character, his strength and his confidence in himself that determines his condition in life, not what others say of him.”
Although, the earl determined, he would make his displeasure felt at the treatment given his son by his people. It might have been partly his fault for not clearly establishing the boy’s status, but he would remedy that first thing in the morning. “Do you understand my words?”’
The boy nodded again, solemnly. “I am what I make of myself,” he paused, drew himself up and squared his shoulders. “Not what others think or say of me.”
Roydon returned the nod, satisfied with his son’s response. “That is correct, never forget that.”
“I will remember, my lord.” A new confidence inhibited the boy’s voice.
“Father,” corrected the earl quietly. “When we are together like this or when the occasion merits it, I would prefer that you call me ‘Father’.”
A smile transformed the boy’s face. “I would like that very much…Father.”
“I know that it might be confusing at times, but we will make it work. Maybe we can have a little talk like this every night, when you can bring me all your questions and concerns. What do you think?” Roydon raised an eyebrow at him.
“I think I would like that, Father.” Aguilus tried to keep a serious and grown-up expression on his face, the earl actually asked for his opinion.
“Very well.” To Roydon, his son’s expression was endearingly poignant. He cleared his throat. “There is one more thing that I would like you to reconsider, son.” The earl picked his words carefully. “You said before that your mother had abandoned you. That is not so. Nona told me that your mother had to leave; it is not the same thing. She must have had potent reasons to leave you. Just as she left me,”
Aguilus looked startled at the earl’s admission and surprised at the pain he heard in his voice; a pain that echoed in his own heart whenever he thought of the mother that he could not remember.
“Nona gave me this before she left,” the boy pulled a bit of cloth from inside his tunic and laid it on the table. “She said it belonged to Mother, that she left it for me.” Carefully he opened the little bundle to reveal a large golden feather that seemed to sparkle in the candle light.
Slowly Roydon removed the feather that he always carried over his heart inside his tunic and laid it on the table beside its twin. “She left one for me too.”
The man and the boy stared in awe at the feathers, then in shared complicity at each other.
“Do you think this means that she will return?” Aguilus stroked his fingers reverently over the soft quills.
“She told me she would return when the time was right.” Roydon spoke in a soft whisper. “Now that we are together, I have no doubt.” Hope rekindled in his heart.
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The next morning, as soon as Aguilus had disappeared down the steps to the kitchens to fetch his lord’s food, the earl rose from his seat at the High Table and followed him. He wanted to see for himself just what his son was experiencing. Harmless ribbing he would ignore, the boy could and should take care of that himself, but what his son had hinted at last night sounded more like vicious bulling. That he would not tolerate; towards his son or any other child.
The earl stood unseen in the shadow of the stairwell just outside the kitchens.
“Here is the little bastard again.” One of the older kitchen boys sidled up to where Aguilus stood filling a pitcher with the earl’s ale. The boy jogged his arm intentionally and ale sloshed over the table and onto the floor, then he moved quickly away. The squire looked up angrily but said nothing.
Another bigger boy came up now. “I heard the clumsy bastard spilled two jugs of ale yesterday. The master will get rid of him soon, ugly little monster that he is.”
Aguilus ignored the cruel taunting and set the pitcher on the tray with the bread, cheese and meats he would be taking up to the earl. Balancing the heavy tray in his arms, he turned around and failed to see the purposely outstretched foot that the smaller of the kitchen boys had thrust out in front of him.
The squire tripped and fell headlong across the kitchen floor, spilling ale and food everywhere. He also bumped the assistant cook heavily in the back, as he tried to stop his fall. General unkind laughter erupted across the kitchen as the assistant cook pulled Aguilus up by his ear and drew his hand back to hit him. “You clumsy, stupid, little bastard. I’ll show you…”
“HOLD!” The earl had seen and heard enough. He stepped out of the shadows. The cold, implacable anger on his face more than the command, froze everyone in the kitchen in place. For a moment the only sound remained the sizzle and sputter of fat falling on the flames from two pigs roasting in the enormous fireplace.
The earl’s furious black gaze slashed across the faces of the servants, their expressions of laughter transformed into masks of fright. A sharp gesture of his hand at Aguilus had the boy running to him, unsure what to expect. He had never seen his father this angry; he looked up at the earl, uncertainty in his eyes.
Roydon felt such anger, that a few moments passed before he could speak. Turning his son around so that he faced his tormentors, he settled his hands on the boy’s shoulders and squeezed gently to reassure him. “Who is in charge here?” The earl’s question cut through the silence like a whip lash.
It took several seconds for the cook, a tall very thin, bald man to step forward. “I…I am the cook, my lord,” a definite tremor shook his voice as well as his clasped hands.
Roydon’s gaze bore into him. “And you allow this bulling to take place here?” The earl did not give the man time to answer. “You allow my squire, my son to be mistreated?” Roydon dropped one hand to the hilt of his sword. “From now on I expect Aguilus to be treated with the honour and respect that is his due as my son.”
The earl felt a presence at his side and looked down to find Byran staring at him in mild shock. Word travelled fast. “I am sorry, my lord. I had no idea that this was happening.”
“Neither did I until I came down here to fetch my son.” Roydon glanced back at the kitchen staff. “But it will never happen again, or lashings will be the least of their worries.” The earl’s threat hung in the air, his implacable gaze mowing down the servants until they looked away in shame.
Only then did the earl turn to address his steward, his voice hard and unyielding. “The cook and that man there,” he pointed to the man who had dared to raise a hand to his son. “To be dismissed immediately. Those two boys,” again the earl pointed to the two boys who had t
ormented Aguilus, “are to be sent to work in the fields until they learn respect.”
After one last intimidating look at his servants, Roydon steered his son ahead of him up the steps. “My son will be breaking his fast with me this morning, Byran. I expect food on my table immediately.”
“Aye, my lord. I shall see to it.”
The earl nodded curtly and followed Aguilus up the steps.
Even though there were still soldiers and servants breaking their fast in the Great Hall, silence followed the earl and his son as they made their way to the High Table. Once there Roydon waved the boy to a seat to the left of his chair, but remained thoughtful as he took his own place. Gradually conversations resumed in the Hall but occasional wary looks were still directed at their liege lord.
“Is this one of the times that I can call you ‘Father’, sir?” Aguilus asked tentatively, drawing the earl from his dark thoughts.
A small smile cracked the earl’s hard features. “Yes, I suppose it is.”
“Do my…sisters sit at table here with you when they are home, Father?” Aguilus still felt strange at the thought of having sisters, although he still had to meet them. “Will they be back soon?”
“No, the girls are too young to sit at table. They have their own ladies and servants to look after them; they usually eat in their rooms.” Roydon smiled as he thought of his little girls. “They will not return for a couple of months yet. As I told you, they are with their maternal grandparents. I miss the little imps.” He looked intently at his son. “As their older brother it is your duty to look out for them and protect them.”
Aguilus puffed out his chest proudly. “I will be the very best brother, sir. I will always look after them and not let anyone hurt them.”
“I know you will, son.” Roydon nodded, but his face turned grim once again at the reminder that his son could have been hurt that morning. “Did anyone actually hit you?” he asked seriously.
“No, sir,” the boy shook his head quickly. “I am sorry to have caused so much trouble.”