by Candy Rae
Anyway, write soon, must finish because me and Robain are going out for dinner.
Hilla XXX’
Part of a letter sent by Zilla to Hilla:
‘… I was so pleased to get your letter with the news about Rilla, thought you didn’t tell me much. Write to her do and ask her to tell us about everything. I’ve enclosed two silver florins, extravagant I know but you said she couldn’t afford to send anything by the Express herself so this should solve the problem. I know you get a stipend.
Life goes on here just as usual, except without you and Rilla. I miss her a lot. Father hired a girl to replace her but I don’t like her very much.
What makes it all so difficult is the fact that no one can mention Rilla’s name in front of Father. Honestly Hilla, I’ve never seen him so angry or so angry for so long…’
* * * * *
Elliot
The four intrepid adventurers (how James described them) took ship for Argyll aboard the Intoxication as soon as the storm abated. Elliot led the way up the gangplank, he and James chattering together as they stepped on to the upper deck.
The clouds were still scudding in the sky, the wind lively and James was heard to wonder if perhaps the storm wasn’t on a return visit.
“Keep silent until I tell you,” hissed Philip Ross at the unrepentant James including all three young men in his prohibitive look. Elliot looked at him with indignant astonishment at the reprimand.
He asked the Skipper, a dependable looking man of middling years about the advisability of setting sail in such inclement weather.
The man looked at the Baron, who was the oldest and in the Skipper’s mind therefore in charge of the party. He was wondering if James’s mental capabilities were a penny short of a shilling.
“You landsmen,” he said with a laugh, “it is only a bit of a blow. Nothing to worry about.”
The Intoxication wasn’t a large vessel but she was sturdy. She was armed, having been built to carry both passengers and cargo. There were a plenitude of such vessels plying their trade between Murdoch, the Islands and Argyll.
Below decks, whence James and Elliot and then Derek had departed as soon as they could, the prince made the less than pleasing discovery that all four of them had been allocated to one cabin. It held four bunks, smelt of stale sweat, beer and brine and as they entered Elliot, dumping his travel bag on to the floor perused it with abundant disfavour.
“Gods James,” he said, “this is pretty awful. It stinks. Really, I can’t possibly stay here. I must have a cabin of my own.”
Philip Ross from outside the door heard him.
First lesson about to be learned I think … about how others live. I wonder how he’ll take it?
As the Prince-Heir Elliot had been pampered all of his seventeen years. He was accustomed to luxurious apartments, a comfortable bed, well cooked meals and being served by a plenitude of servants.
“Philip can’t really expect all four of us to sleep in such a tiny space?” Elliot’s voice continued, full to the brim of shocked indignation and disbelief.
“I’m afraid so Elliot,” Philip heard James Cocteau answer. “You’re far too used to luxury. This isn’t too bad.”
“Could have been a lot worse,” intimated Derek Merriman.
“A lot worse?” Elliot’s voice was shrill.
“At least this ship’s got separate cabins for the passengers. I’ve been on one that the passengers shared the deck space with the sailors.”
“I don’t believe the captain actually had the audacity to charge coin for this,” insisted Elliot.
“It was you who was demanding adventure and escape from the constraints of court life,” grinned James.
“Not like this.” protested Elliot.
Derek was examining the mattresses on the bunks.
“No bugs,” he informed them in a cheerful voice.
“Bugs.” Words failed Elliot at this point.
“Yep, none of the little critters,” continued Derek, “we can just dump our sleepbags on top of the mattresses and we’ll be as snug as anything. I for one intend to get to bed as soon as I can and I advise you both to do the same unless you’re good sailors. It’s likely to get a bit bumpy.”
“I hate sailing,” admitted James.
Philip Ross appeared from behind the narrow door, trying to hide his amusement.
“Got yourselves sorted out?” he asked as he squeezed in beside them.
“I’m going to bed now,” decided a pale faced James. “I don’t want any dinner. Where do we put the packs?”
“On these racks over there,” Philip answered, pointing. “Untie the sleepbags and put them on the bunks then swing the packs up on to the racks. These straps are for tying them on so they don’t fall down if the weather starts getting lively.”
James looked green.
“Skipper says were leaving as soon as the last of the cargo is aboard,” continued Philip. “He also said he’d send a meal along. Cold fare tonight apparently, everyone, including the cook helps with the cargo. Bread and cheese. Sure you don’t want anything James?”
James looked even greener. Even the steady and gentle rocking of the Intoxication was playing havoc with his stomach.
“I don’t think I’ll bother,” he reaffirmed and began to untie his sleep bag. Derek had already laid out his and was stowing his pack.
Elliot was standing watching them.
Philip remembered the words of Elliot’s father, the Crown-Prince:
‘Not his fault Philip, but he’s pampered, never had to do anything for himself in his life. Can’t go on.’
“Right Elliot,” said Philip. “Are you in the bunk above the one James has taken?”
Elliot nodded.
“Then get your sleep bag out and on it and pass your pack to Derek. There’s no room to swing a rudtka in here and we’ll be tripping over it all night if you don’t get a move on. Come on lad, you’re holding us up. My pack is still outside.”
Elliot looked surprised at being called lad by Philip and the older man looked at him. He felt his anger at being spoken to thus rising and Philip noticed.
“You are supposed to be travelling not as a prince,” he reminded Elliot in a mild reply to Elliot’s angry, unspoken question, “or have I got it wrong?”
Elliot reddened, remembering his father’s last words. He knew that his father had given Philip Ross instructions to treat him exactly as he would the other two and as a tutor would treat his students. It was not uncommon for young noble of merchant sons of Murdoch to visit Argyll under the directive control of a tutor.
“You have no right to speak to me like that,” growled Elliot, not quite ready to accept his new status.
“I have every right,” Philip answered in a calm voice. “It is the right given to me by your father who put you, his only son, into my care. Any objections?” Philip stared at Elliot and it was Elliot who looked away.
“No sir,” he answered and knelt down to unstrap his sleep bag. He managed it at last, the buckles being new and stiff and tossed the said bag on to the bunk above James.
“Throw up the pack,” encouraged Derek, wondering at finding himself speaking to the Prince-Heir like this. Derek stowed his pack alongside the other two.
“I’ll put mine away later,” said Philip but he did open the door and drag it in, at the same time looking to see if there were any curious sailors lingering around. He didn’t think Elliot had been recognised but it was better to be safe than sorry.
“Remember,” he said as he closed the door and wedged it shut. “I am who I actually am and so is Derek here. James and Elliot are of similar rank. You are now the sons of the minor nobility travelling through Argyll under my tutelage. Elliot is not a Prince. In fact, Elliot is not his name.”
“It isn’t?” asked Elliot. “Father didn’t say anything about me changing my name.”
“He spoke to me and nothing was said about it later because we didn’t want anyone knowing. Walls have ea
rs at Court. Elliot is now Walter Merriman, Derek’s younger brother with the rank of Kellen. He’ll tell you about his family over the next few days so that you know what to answer if anyone asks. James is still James Cocteau, but also with the rank of Kellen and is of now descended from one of the cadet branches of the House of Cocteau and not the main one. You both got that? I don’t want any slip ups. Get the idea of Prince Elliot’s very existence out of what brains you possess. He is Kellen Walter Merriman now and I will, you will, treat him accordingly. No deferring to him, no bowing, no waiting on him. In fact, he becomes the least important of us all.”
Horrified amazement on Elliot’s face!
By the time the ship docked at the harbour at Settlement Elliot had got used to (if not a hundred percent reconciled) his new status.
Derek had begun to treat him as the younger brother Elliot was supposed to be from that first night on board and Elliot felt himself responding in kind, finding that he was enjoying the experience. Philip treated all three the same, somewhere in between tutor and mentor. He had known them for a number of years and found the situation easy to slip into.
Elliot was beginning to realise that he wasn’t the only fish in the sea.
It was with James that Elliot’s problems lay. James was Elliot’s best friend but it had never been a friendship of equals. Rank in Murdoch was of paramount importance and James was finding it difficult to cope with an Elliot of similar rank.
Both of them dealt with the situation during the voyage by the simple expedient of ignoring each other.
Philip didn’t interfere. He was glad that the voyage had taken a few days longer than expected, the skipper having been obliged to ship his sea anchor and ride out the storm because it had given them all the chance to get accustomed to thinking and acting out the new relationships. James and ‘Walter’ would come to their senses before they were much older.
* * * *
The Intoxication edged her way to the dockside. Philip was pleased with Elliot. He no longer issued demands nor did he expect to be waited on. He took his share in any tasks Philip gave them. He appeared to be enjoying himself.
In fact, Elliot was loving it. Someone not born to the constraints of royal life might not have understood but for he first time he felt free to be himself.
“Where do we go first when we disembark?” he asked Philip. “An inn?”
“It would be the normal step for travellers such as us,” agreed Philip, “so that is what we will do. We’ll take a couple of rooms not in an inn but in a hotel I know.”
“I didn’t know you’d been in Argyll before.”
“There’s lot you don’t know about me,” grinned Philip, who appeared to be enjoying himself as much as Elliot. “I’ve been in royal service for a long time. This isn’t even the second time I’ve visited. In fact, there are some people, one man especially who I am proud to call a friend and I’m hoping we might manage to meet him. I’ll send a messenger once we get to the hotel and find out if he’s still around.”
“I’ve never met an ordinary Argyllian,” said Elliot.
“You’ve rarely met any ordinary anybodies,” said Philip. “One of the purposes of this trip is for you to meet as many different kinds of people as possible. Ordinary people, people who work for their living to put food in the bellies of their children.”
“Will that make me a better king?” asked Elliot.
“Your father knows it will make you a more rounded person,” explained Philip. “Now, let’s disembark and get through customs. After the voyage we’ve had I feel in great need of a hot bath and for some meat and vegetables which aren’t salted or going rotten.”
“I feel much the same myself,” admitted Elliot. “In this state,” he grinned, “who could possibly guess who I really am?”
“You stink enough that no one in their right mind would want to get close enough to find out little brother,” said Derek, standing at Elliot’s other side. “Ah, they’re tying up now, we’ll be able to go soon.” He slapped Elliot on the back in a playful gesture and with a resigned grin Elliot went with his ‘big brother’ to make his farewells to the Skipper. He played the part very well, letting Derek do the talking and injecting only an occasional ‘yes’ into the conversation accompanied by a shy smile.
“What’s that statue up there on the hill?” he asked Derek as they descended the gangway.
Philip overheard them and glanced landwards at the huge statue before answering. “Jim and Larya, he was the General, they’ve got another name for it but I don’t remember what, who commanded the army that defeated the Larg who invaded here not long after we landed in AL2. There are statues of the two of them dotted around everywhere and I’ve been told that there are over twenty at Stewarton. I’ve not seen them myself. You can climb up and look at it if you’re feeling energetic. We’ll be here at Settlement for some days.”
“Some days?”
“We need horses, travel supplies. One travel pack each isn’t going to get us very far. That’ll take time. The town itself is very interesting. There are one or two of the original buildings still standing and Settlement is the headquarters of the Garda - also the site of their officer training school, it’s called the Academie.”
“I’d like to see that,” said Derek. His father held land on the westernmost borders of the Duchy of South Baker and he and his brothers had all seen action against the Larg who seemed to think that the domesticated meat herds must be far tastier than the wild ones roaming free outside the borders. The Larg didn’t pay attention to borders.
“I’ll see what I can do,” responded Philip. “I’ve got an acquaintance of two amongst the Garda, one of them being that friend I mentioned. Don’t look so surprised young James. Whatever happened in the past between our two countries is over now. The Garda and the Regiments no longer believe each other is the enemy. I would like to see the Academie as well. I only got a glance last time I was here.”
“So we can trust the Garda?” queried James, amazed at what Philip was revealing.
“Individual members of another country’s army can be friends as long as one remembers where loyalty lies.”
“I think I understand,” James replied in a quiet voice. He had never thought about inter-country relationships before, being the type of young man who much preferred to skim over the surface of things.
“And remember what war is,” continued Philip. “Most soldiers, whether from Murdoch, Argyll or even Vadath don’t want a war. They go to war when they are ordered and only when there is no other option.”
“So armies are more in the nature of a deterrent?” asked Elliot.
“Yes, at least between countries.”
“It is very confusing,” said Elliot.
“Yes it is, but enough lecturing for now, let’s get to the hotel.”
No one took much notice of them as they made their way to the hotel Philip remembered. He had insisted they all wear restrained garments and an observer would have said they were three young men and their tutor on an educational tour. The more astute would realise that they came from the south by their accents. The more observant would see that they were not from the merchant classes as all four wore swords and their sword belts were worn.
The hotel Philip had chosen was as far from the dockside as he could manage and correspondingly expensive but this was in keeping with their assumed status. Nobles from Murdoch didn’t frequent the less commodious abodes near the docks.
He booked the rooms, telling the officious looking individual at the desk that they would be staying for at least five nights, perhaps more, depending.
The Hotel was ‘expensive’ enough to have a messenger within its employ, a cheeky little urchin of around thirteen who said the Receptionist, would deliver anything anywhere, anytime, within the Settlement area.
Philip asked for pen and paper, was told that they were already in the rooms and requested that the messenger should present himself at his door in a bell’s time as he had a
letter he needed delivered to the Academie.
“Who is it that you know in the Garda?” asked Elliot as they followed their guide up the shallow stairs.
“His name is Leftenant Hallam,” Philip answered. “Last I heard he was still on the staff at the Academie.”
“Where, when did you meet him?” asked a curious Elliot. “Here in Argyll?”
“No, it was in the Western Isles about two years ago. I was sent to the Duke with the diplomatic pouch and the Leftenant was attached to the Argyllian ambassador there. He’s a nice young man. We’ve kept in touch on and off through diplomatic channels. If he’s still at the Academie I’m hoping that he’ll invite us for a look round.”
“Will he be allowed?”
Philip thought, deciding how much he should explain. “Well, there’s been a certain amount of mutual co-operation between the two officer schools, my father spent three months lecturing here when I was a child and I think the Academie reciprocated at much the same time. It worked pretty well. If Robain Hallam is still here, he’ll leap at it, especially if I volunteer to give a lecture or two myself, at least his Commanding Officer will.”
Philip wrote the note and sealed it with the wax that sat in a pretty allst-wood box on the desk. Elliot hadn’t stayed in a hotel before but he was favourably impressed. They seemed to think of everything.
There was a smart rap at the door and a boy in green livery entered. Philip held out the letter which the boy took.
Elliot had half turned to Philip to ask another question when the door went again. It was James and Derek who had come to request permission to go and explore Settlement and could ‘Walter’ come with them?
Philip gave his permission, reminded them to be careful and to remember they were guests. He saw them on their way after a few quiet words with Derek to keep his eyes open. When they returned for supper, tired and cheerful he had news. Leftenant Hallam was still at the Academie and would be delighted to see Philip again. He had sent an invitation for Phillip and his young friends to attend the Academie the day after next and would ask his commanding officer if he would accept Baron Ross’s offer of the lecture.