by Tod Langley
Chapter 6
Without Friends
The next day, the Erandian prince was walking down a narrow street far from the palace. Kristian did not even know how long he had wandered through the back streets of the capital. He was lost in his thoughts, carefully reconstructing his first conversation with Allisia. Sometimes he said things he knew were wrong, but Kristian could not explain why he said them. He regretted disturbing her. Kristian had only meant to introduce himself, but things were much worse now.
He was confused and angry, feeling too many emotions all at once. Kristian hated his father for forcing him into this marriage. Yet, now that he had met Allisia, he was not displeased at the thought. Allisia was beautiful and seemed more mature than the other girls her age. She might be defiant and argumentative, but at least she did not immediately give in to him like everyone else did. Allisia captured Kristian’s imagination the way no other woman ever had.
He was angrier with himself than anyone else. There had been a small chance that they could be friends, but Kristian had ruined that chance in the first few minutes alone with her.
Kristian also felt contempt for Captain Alek Hienren and his officers who constantly seemed to garner respect from their men. Yet, Kristian wished he was more like them. He had practiced every day to be one of them, but he would never get the chance to prove himself worthy of that kind of respect, and he blamed his father for the way he acted. Still, he wished he had spent more time with his father before he had left.
Emerick was a hard man to love. The king had fought back against Belarnian aggression his entire life, and he wanted to make sure his son was prepared for the growing conflict. Kristian knew his father meant well, that he only wanted to make sure Kristian was ready to lead their country, but he neglected everything else a father should do with his son to make sure it happened. The last conversation they had with each other had been heated. Kristian had threatened to walk out of the Duellrian court without asking for a marriage to seal the treaty.
Kristian sat down on a bench outside one of the shops, defeated. The storefronts rose up around him, cluttered but still magnificent. The buildings were all sorts of colors and many had windows full of merchandise. The stores seemed to lean toward him, pressuring him to make decisions. He stared at the fine clothes inside one of the shops and frowned. He wanted to wear something new and grand for the celebration, but nothing suited him. They reminded him of his failures at court and in life.
“May I sit with you?” a lovely but unexpected voice asked. Kristian stood astonished to see Allisia standing next to him. She looked even more beautiful than he remembered, standing there with her arms full of parcels. She was wearing a green dress with a simple design. She did not have her crown on, but an ornate comb fashioned to look like a butterfly decorated her hair. Kristian hurried to take the packages from her as he sheepishly gestured for her to sit. Neither of them spoke for a while as they sat and watched the people hurrying by.
“I’ve got to admit,” she said, breaking the uneasy silence, “I’ve been watching you for some time. Why are you so much more and less than you seem? I mean, how is it that you can act so rudely, hurting my feelings, and then walk aimlessly through a strange city obviously upset about what happened?” Allisia laughed at Kristian’s complexity, and strangely it made him feel better. He tried to laugh with her but barely managed a chuckle. The prince could think of nothing to say to explain his behavior.
“What are you really like, Your Highness?” she asked, truly puzzled.
“Please, call me Kristian. I want so much to apologize for my actions. I really want us to be friends.”
“That would seem appropriate since we are to be husband and wife.” Allisia paused uncertain of how much to tell him. “I have a confession. I paid my father’s emissaries to spy on you while they were in Erand.”
“For how long?” Kristian asked, afraid she had gathered enough damning information to hate him forever.
“Oh … several months.” Kristian grimaced. “I only wanted to know what you were like. I can’t stand the possibility of marrying someone I don’t know.”
“I suppose you’ve heard enough to be forever disappointed in me,” he said.
Allisia laughed again. “I’m afraid that most of what I heard was not good. But some of it was. They told me you were very handsome, strong, and ….”
“Yes? And?”
“Well, wealthy.”
“Is that all anyone has to say about me?”
“But it’s clear that you care about what people think of you. You’re a complex person, I think.” Her brows furrowed as she tried to figure out her betrothed. “That has to mean you want to be liked, that you want to have friends.”
“I have no friends,” Kristian said feeling sorry for himself.
“Why do you say and do the things you do? If you truly want friends, why do you abuse those around you?” she asked. The prince shook his head, not knowing the answer. Allisia scooted a little closer to him. “Tell me all about yourself.”
Kristian was taken back. “Here? Now?” Her smile was enough to get him started. He began hesitantly, describing a few fond memories from childhood, but before he knew it, Kristian was describing every bad event he could remember.
In all of Erinia, Kristian could think of no one who could understand the way he felt. No one could understand what it was like to grow up with a mother and father who paid little attention to their son. Both of his parents were too busy to spare time for him during the day. They were, however, concerned about his education and potential. Kristian’s parents ensured that the best scholars taught him everything he would need to know except how to interact with others; they were afraid of turning their kingdom over to a son incapable of leading Erand in the direction they wanted. The only people Kristian was allowed to see as a child were teachers who had forgotten what it was like to be a young boy. He was forced to read the history of Erand, Belarn, and other kingdoms instead of being given time to play with children his own age.
At first, Kristian defied them all by escaping to the army barracks whenever there was an opportunity. He loved spying on the cavaliers as they trained. For hours he would sit on a bale of hay high up in a stable and watch the cavalrymen conduct inspections or practice with their weapons. Once he had seen the entire unit marshaled. Never before had he seen men dressed so magnificently. The cavalrymen were wearing their best uniforms and highly polished armor. They sat upon well-groomed horses at rigid attention. Blue and gray banners snapped in the wind, and Kristian felt a great longing to be one of the soldiers. As he grew older, the prince began to realize that he was doomed to spend the rest of his life engaged in diplomatic affairs. His trips to the barracks became less frequent as he lost all hope.
He began to study in earnest the things the scholars were trying to teach him. In a very short time, he learned to scrutinize everything they lectured him about. He read so many conflicting versions of history that he no longer believed much of what he was taught. They constantly tried to impress upon him the proud heritage of his kingdom. There was no greater kingdom in the world, they said convincingly. Ever since Salin transformed the undisciplined mob of farmers into a powerful army, the rest of the world had left the affairs of the newer kingdoms to Erand.
The educators soon became disgruntled as Kristian accused them of altering significant events in Erandian history. They never successfully convinced him of the way things really occurred. Kristian challenged them to prove there ever was a man named Salin. Eventually, they gave up on the skeptical prince.
It was during this challenging time in Kristian’s life that his mother died. Kristian had never been close to his parents, but when she died, it seemed that he lost a part of himself also. He began to drift even further away from those near him. What little bond was left between the king and his son finally broke. Kristian became unruly and defiant. Servants and tutors refused to work for or with him, and soon no one in the castle wanted to associate with him. T
he young prince did not mind. He did not care what people thought of him anymore. In contempt, he threw the teachers out of the palace and claimed the royal library as his own. There, where no one dared disturb him, Kristian would read for hours, losing himself in documents. In his spare time, however, a single palace maid or gardener would see the prince secretly grooming his horse or practicing with a saber. These lucky few saw the prince as few others ever did.
“And now, I am twenty years old. I know I treat others poorly sometimes, but it’s only because I feel like I’m a victim, too. If I’ve treated others harshly, I guess it was because that was what happened to me when I was younger.”
Allisia tilted her head in sadness. “Poor Kristian, you certainly had a terrible childhood, but you have to realize that it wasn’t just those around you who were responsible. You must take responsibility for your actions … and for your words. No one forced you to behave badly. We always have a choice.”
Kristian shook his head in sad agreement. “Yes, Allisia, we do. And I will give you a choice. I will find a way for the treaty to hold without you having to marry me. I will talk to your father and ….”
“I have a choice, and I already made it.” Allisia said looking into his eyes. “As you said, maybe someday we will love each other. Or at least get along well enough to live with each other,” she said laughing.
Kristian smiled. He liked seeing her like this and hoped the moment would last longer. “For now, I just hope we can be friends. Will you allow me to start over? Can I take back my words to you at the fountain yesterday?” Allisia gave a little smile and nod.
“Yes,” she replied, “but what about the way you have treated others? The way I have heard you treat your escorts. What about them?” Allisia was not going to let him out of trouble too easily.
Kristian shrugged indifferently. “It’s too late. I know they all hate me. I’ll never be good enough in their eyes.” Hoping to change the subject, he asked, “But what about you? What was your childhood like?”
She shrugged in response. “There isn’t much to tell, actually. I never knew my mother. She died giving birth to me.” Seeing that Kristian was about to comfort her, she continued. “I regret that I never got to know her, but I love my father and brother very much. My whole life has revolved around them and my home by the ocean.”
She went on describing the things she loved the most like her favorite wildflower and song. She loved to sit on the rocks not far from the palace and watch the waves crash into the cliffs below.
“There is nothing more reassuring to me than the smell of the ocean. I will miss it.”
Kristian was uncomfortable with where the conversation had gone. He felt ashamed for taking her away from her home, but he also began to see Allisia as a friend. She was an incredible young woman not just a beautiful princess. For one so young, she was able to pick out the most discerning details in everything she saw, and she was very intelligent. Allisia could identify almost every variety of plant she saw by both the Duellrian name and its Old World name. She loved to read tales transcribed by priests because she felt that in many of them there were underlying themes of sadness and love. Kristian commented that they at least had one thing in common, their love of reading. She agreed. They continued their conversation, telling each other their pasts, their likes, and their dislikes.
When Kristian began to relax and feel more comfortable around her, he decided to share one more thing. “I feel like I’m under immense pressure to succeed, but I don’t know what the task is supposed to be. I feel like there are expectations placed on me, but I don’t know what they are,” Kristian tried to explain. He knew his words were not accurately reflecting his frustration.
“We are both under great pressure. We’re expected to marry and be happy and somehow unite our kingdoms so that our fathers can deal with Belarn. That is a lot of stress put on us,” Allisia responded.
“I don’t even believe in the reason we are supposed to unite our countries. Belarn is not a threat, and Erand could have dealt with them a long time ago,” Kristian declared.
“Your father has convinced mine that Belarn is a very real threat,” Allisia said.
“I think it’s all about politics.” Kristian reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “I … I want to be completely honest with you, Allisia. If we are to be married, I want us to understand one another.”
“I want that, too,” Allisia agreed.
“This is a letter that I received the day I arrived here. I want you to read it.” Kristian handed the paper to her.
“Kristian,” she read aloud, “I trust you reached Argathos safely and without delay. Give the King of Duellr and his people our respect and gratitude for their hospitality.
“I hope your future bride is beautiful,” Allisia continued. She saw Kristian nod in agreement to his father’s concern, and she smiled, “and that she is ready for a grand ceremony. I am also looking forward to your return. This old place could use a few little ones running around to brighten up the place.”
“I also hope you understand how important this treaty is to our kingdom and to your future. I know I can count on you.” Allisia refolded the letter and handed it back.
The questioning look she gave Kristian showed she did not understand what he was upset about. “In the first part,” he explained, “my father is really saying ‘I know you reached the capital because the cavalry commander has sent continuous reports back to me.’ Alek Hienren is my father’s appointed guardian and shepherd.
“He then reminds me of my duty to put on a good show for your father so that I earn his trust and ensure he does not back out of the treaty.” Kristian stood and began pacing as he became more agitated.
“And the part about getting back fast and having children … that’s to secure the treaty and make sure Erand has leverage over Duellr.”
“Don’t you think you might be reading into this a little too much?” Allisia asked.
“And he closes,” Kristian continued, “by reminding me again about the treaty because he doesn’t trust me to go through with this. I’m surprised he didn’t come here and hold our hands to make sure we got married. He might even stand over our bed the first night to make sure we ….” He suddenly stopped, embarrassed.
Allisia stood and came close. “You’re thinking way too far into the future. How can you maintain this level of self-imposed pressure? I think the most important thing is for us to get to know each other and to be happy. If we can do that, who cares what our fathers get out of the bargain? Do you want children?” she asked.
“Of course. I want lots of children,” he replied.
“How many?” she asked again.
“I don’t know,” Kristian said, starting to laugh. “It’s all too much to take in right now.”
“Yes, it is,” Allisia agreed, “but it’s more enjoyable to talk about our future than a letter from your father.” They laughed together for awhile and then shifted the conversation toward the ceremony. Kristian was apprehensive, but Allisia told him how simple it would be. He looked forward to seeing her again and getting a chance to dance with her. Allisia smiled, her face turning red.
Finally, Allisia said she had to leave. Kristian did not want her to go, but he did not try to stop her. He enjoyed the conversation and would always remember it. They said their good-byes, exchanging hopeful glances at each other. Allisia also promised that they would talk more before the ceremony. Then he remembered that he still had to find something to wear, and Kristian moaned in misery.
Mikhal Jurander was sitting on the edge of his cot cleaning his boots while he listened to the company’s oldest sergeant, Truan Langwood, share a war story with some of the newer men. The young officer snorted as he heard the old soldier embellish his version of the Battle of Marker. He had heard Truan tell the story before, but it never seemed to amaze Mikhal how much better the tale became with each retelling.
“And there I was ... standing n
ext to the commander. There were only a few other Erandian cavalrymen still alive. We looked out past the fog from the hill we were defending and saw nothing but our own dead and hundreds of the bodies of Belarnian infantry.” He looked at each of the young men listening to him before he continued. “And as we counted the numbers of our dead, an ear-splitting sound pierced the fog. It was a Belarnian march-horn signaling the advance. From just beyond the limits of our vision, the sound of hundreds of horses could be heard approaching our position.”
“And just how many Erandians were left on the hill?” inquired a young soldier.
“There were five of us left. And no one had a mount. We faced certain death at the hands of our enemy, and we were prepared to meet it. So, as they began to charge us, I turned to the commander and asked, ‘Sir, what reward will you give me for taking their damned flag and presenting it to you?’”
Mikhal laughed as he watched Truan put a boot up on the edge of a cot as if he had just climbed the highest peak in the Mercies and planted an Erandian flag at the summit. “The commander looked at me seriously and said, ‘Son, you grab that flag, and I’ll give you a day off.’”
“A day off?” one soldier asked in disbelief. “Is that all?”
“That’s exactly the same thing I said to him. And he replied, ‘Killing the enemy is your job, cavalier, I expect no less of you than for you to do your duty at all times.’”
“So what happened? How did you escape them?”
“Well, let’s just say that the next day I could be found enjoying my day off in the arms of one of the most beautiful women in Erand!” Soldiers throughout the hall cheered at his words. Alek Hienren had just arrived from the palace and added his own comments.
“Liar! I happen to know that you spent that entire day in the arms of your wife and she is definitely not beautiful.” The gathered soldiers laughed and cheered for their commander, as well. Mikhal stood to greet his captain as he approached the crowd of soldiers. The other two officers quickly came over to their commander to see how the plans were coming along. Lieutenant Hanson, a tall and strong man from the southern plains of Erand, was recently accepted into the cavaliers from the regular army. He was always quick to point out the fact that he was from the south where men were born to be great warriors. Mikhal knew he was capable of taking on any soldier in the company, but he sometimes doubted Hanson’s ability to lead without being rash. The other officer, Romlin, was the youngest of the four officers. His father was an advisor to the king and had at one time been a decorated cavalier. Romlin always pushed himself hard to be the best of all of them; he wanted his father to be proud of him. He was a capable cavalryman and would someday be a commander, but he tended to worry too much about what other people, especially his father, thought of him.
“Well, sir, what happened?” Hanson asked. Mikhal looked into his commander’s eyes to see if he would tell them everything. Their commander had gradually withdrawn from his junior officers ever since the prince had almost gotten them killed in the Duellrian village. He still joked with them and the rest of the company and never neglected to correct them if they were doing something wrong, but lately he had stopped making fun of the king’s son. Mikhal and the other officers had anxiously waited every evening while on the road to Duellr for their commander to sit with them and do his best impression of the prince. Obviously, even Alek’s patience had worn thin. He was ready to ride home again.
“The treaty is final,” Alek replied. “There will be a party to celebrate the unification of our kingdoms and the coming wedding of our prince to Princess Allisia.” Mikhal and Hanson exchanged concerned looks when their commander added, “Yes, you are formally invited. And yes, you must go. So ensure that your dress uniform is taken out of your packs and get the wrinkles out. And make sure you take a bath tomorrow.” Alek looked at Hanson to ensure the southerner understood. They all laughed while Hanson looked down at his boots, embarrassed.
“Indeed, I have heard that southern Erandians don’t bathe as frequently as the rest of us. Is that true?” an unexpected voice asked from the doorway. The gathered officers and soldiers turned to see Kristian standing there with his arms crossed in front of his chest and a questioning looking on his face. Taken back by the prince’s sudden entrance, Alek took a few moments to gather his thoughts before calling the barracks to attention. The commander quickly approached the prince, attempting to head him off while the rest of the company stood motionless.
“My apologies, Your Highness, had I known you wanted to conduct an in-ranks inspection, I would’ve prepared the men. I’m afraid they’re not ready for you.” Alek hated being caught like this. He had not done anything wrong, but he knew the prince would never understand. Instead, he was surprised to see the prince smile as he took off his gloves and approach the gathered cavalrymen. Alek followed the heir of Erand not knowing what to expect.
Mikhal and the other officers remained at rigid attention, looking straight ahead as Kristian approached their little group. They tried not to move, afraid of calling unnecessary attention to themselves. Kristian approached Hanson and looked straight into his eyes. The other two sighed as he passed them.
“Lieutenant Hanson, isn’t it?” he asked. The man looked surprised, and it took him a moment to regain his composure and reply.
“Yes, sir,” Hanson barked out, unintentionally revealing how nervous he was. Realizing how uncomfortable he was making them all feel, Kristian patted Hanson on the shoulder and turned to Mikhal.
“I’ve heard that the hard work you southerners are used to makes you more accustomed to your smell, but surely you’ll bathe for the pretty girls that you’ll meet tomorrow night? Otherwise, I fear that even my betrothed may run away.” A few soldiers laughed and even Mikhal smiled before he remembered how much he hated the prince.
Hanson stared in disbelief as he realized he had become the brunt of another joke. The rest of the cavaliers remained at attention but became more relaxed as they saw a side of the prince they had never seen before. “Relax, gentlemen, please relax.” Kristian said as he turned to Mikhal. “Actually, I came to say thank you to you, Lieutenant Jurander. You completed a challenging task in getting me here … I know how difficult I can be. Thank you.” Mikhal was shocked and could think of nothing to say or do and could only nod. Kristian hesitated a moment, a genuine smile of respect and appreciation on his face, and then he moved on to the other soldiers.
As cavaliers began to relax their stance, Kristian moved from cot to cot shaking hands and chatting with them. Everywhere he went, cavaliers smiled or even laughed at the prince’s comments. Mikhal looked questioningly at Alek who could do nothing more than stare at their prince and shake his head in complete disbelief.
Romlin tried to get in on the fun and walked up to Hanson handing him a bar of soap. “Here, you might need this one as well as your own.” Fuming, Hanson grabbed the younger officer by the shirt and dragged him toward the door. Mikhal laughed and shouted encouragement to Hanson as the burly southerner took Romlin outside to teach him a lesson. “But everyone else got away with it!” Romlin shouted as he grabbed at the doorway, refusing to leave.
“Yes, but they outrank me. I can pummel you and not worry as much about punishment,” Hanson replied as he ripped Romlin’s grip from the door and took him outside.
Mikhal could hear Romlin pleading in the distance. “It was just a joke. I’ll polish your boots. I’ll clean your uniform.”