Honor Crowned (2 page)

             
“Gads that’s strong,” he grumbled.  “So, is it true?” he asked as he turned to Jorem.

             
Jorem walked closer to the blaze and warmed his hands.  “A title doesn’t make a man,” he said quietly.

             
“Aye,” Conrad nodded.  “I’d say yer brothers done proved the truth of that.”

             
The other men had moved closer and a few more had wandered over.  Nothing gathered men on a cold morning like a warm fire and curiosity, except maybe a hot meal.  A few of the men were whispering back and forth.  Jorem did his best not to listen, but knew he was the subject at hand.

             
“You don’t…,” Ferd said, then stopped himself, then started again.  “You don’t look like, well, like…”

             
“Like the spare heir,” Jorem finished for him.  He smiled to take the sting out of the words.  “I suppose I’ve changed a bit over the past few years.  But you know, I still manage to get on the wrong end of a lot of sharp pointy things.”

             
“There’s truth in that,” one of them said with a chuckle.

             
“But you could be cozied up in the palace,” came a remark from another.

             
“What, and miss out on Con’s nightly serenade?”  They all chuckled at that, even Con.

             
“Truth is,” Jorem continued, “I’d rather be here with you.”  He looked around at the men as he spoke.  He caught each man’s eye to be sure they knew he meant them.  “I’m no more important than any of you.  We serve the King.  We protect the people.  We guard each other’s back.”

Chapter III

It was just after the noon meal when Captain Jonas called for everyone to gather at the command tent.  The whole camp had been abuzz at the news of Jorem’s true identity.  A few more had come to ask him about it
directly.  Most relied on the word of others.  Fortunately Jorem had plenty of practice dealing with being stared at; otherwise, he would have been on edge.

             
Jorem maintained his place with the scouts, and they adjusted quickest to his revelation.  It didn’t take more than a mark or two before they were treating him just as they had before.  Conrad had decided he’d been promoted.  After all, as he put it, he’d been bunking with a royal for so long, he was nearly a royal himself.

             
“Quiet down!” bellowed a man up front.

             
Jonas stood just outside the command tent, gazing out at the men gathered there.  One of the squad leaders stood beside the captain with his hands cupped to his mouth.  The squad leader had to shout a few more times before everyone settled down.  All remaining murmurs and whispers were silenced when the captain took a step forward.

             
“Men,” Jonas said clearly, “we have received new orders from the crown.”  That got everyone’s attention.  “A small contingent of men are to split off from here and proceed through the northern passes to the border.  The rest of us are to march to the capital.  There we will join with the third battalion under Prince Farthon.”

             
“Excuse me sir,” said one of the squad leaders. “Who will be leading the contingent going to the border?”

             
Jorem had no difficulty identifying Braten, the same man who’d led his squad onto a loose patch of shale on a steep hillside.  They’d lost a man that day, nearly lost several.  Braten had no liking for the scouts.  He had ignored Jorem’s warnings of the danger and had disregarded the trail Jorem had marked for them to follow.

             
“As many of you know,” Jonas continued, “we have been joined, or perhaps I should say rejoined, by Prince Jorem, fifth son of King Haldon, heir to the throne.”

             
“Don’t you sound all important,” Conrad whispered just loud enough for the scouts to hear.  Several of the scouts had to smother their mirth.  Jorem just rolled his eyes and shook his head.

             
“Prince Jorem, would you come up here?” Jonas requested.  “I’ll let you explain the details of your mission and, while you’re at it, you might as well select the men you want with you.”

             
When Jorem got to the command tent and turned around, his stomach knotted up.  There were so many men looking at him.
“Funny
,” Jorem thought
, “Father always made speaking to a crowd look so easy.”
  He pursed his lips while he reconsidered what he had planned to say.  It had sounded so reasonable when he’d thought it through earlier.  Now he wasn’t so sure.  Most of these men were older than he; several were old enough to be his father.  Would they even listen?

             
“It’s okay son,” Jonas said quietly.  “Just tell them what to expect.  They’re soldiers.  They need someone to follow.”

             
Taking a deep breath, Jorem tried to relax.  “I’ve been ordered to take a small group of men through the northern mountains of the Kingdom.  We are to visit every town, village, farmhouse, and shepherd camp to ensure them of their safety and importance to the crown.”  He let this information sink in for a moment before continuing.

             
“For those of you who are thinking this will be a huge waste of time, I agree with you.  If that is all there is to it, we might as well stay here and tell tall tales and roast rabbits.  There are some, however, who feel there is a chance, slight as it may be, of a force invading the Kingdom by this route.  If so, we need to find evidence of such and report to the crown.  We’ll be on foot so we’ll carry whatever we need in packs.  The terrain will be rugged and resupply points far apart.

             
“I’m sure many of you have heard it takes a small army to keep the spare heir from breaking his own neck.  In this case, I’ll have to make do with a dozen men.  I don’t suppose anyone would care to volunteer?”

             
To Jorem’s surprise, nearly every man stepped forward.  Several men pushed their way to the front.  Of these men, some he had fought beside, some he’d helped rescue from a rock slide, and others he’d trained to defend themselves.  All of the scouts had come forward.

             
Of the men who had stepped forward and those who had come to the front, Jorem chose his dozen.  Two scouts, Conrad and Hector, were his first choices.  He then chose four archers and six regulars.  The rest he thanked individually.  He also took the time to mingle with the rest of the troops.  These men were headed for a war; many of them would not survive the experience.

Chapter IV

             
Jorem had Hector and Conrad lead out.  With scouts out front, the rest of the men could concentrate on setting a good pace.  With limited supplies they would need to get from town to town as quickly as possible.  Even so, it was days before they encountered people. Then it was only a small cottage.

             
Set back in a small stand of trees, the tiny thatch-covered building looked quaint.  A small garden to one side had recently been tilled.  The windows were covered with light curtains and a mat covered the ground in front of the door.  A bench just big enough for two stood to the side of the door and a barrel of water was just at the corner of the house.

             
Once they had all gathered in the clearing in front of the cottage, Jorem called out.  The place looked well-kept so it seemed likely there would be someone about.  The door opened and a stern looking woman stepped out.  Jorem wasn’t sure what to expect, but the large knife she held in front of her was a bit of a surprise.

             
“Ye cain’t ‘ave ‘im!” the woman said sharply.  “’e’s too young, an' I’ll not ‘ave it!”

             
Jorem looked to the men at his side, but got no help.

             
“I’m sorry miss, but I don’t understand,” he said calmly.

             
“The King’s men a’ready took my man.  Now ye comes for me boy.  Well ye cain’t ‘ave ‘im!”

             
“Please miss, relax.  We’re not here for your son.  We’re just checking to see that everyone’s all right.”

             
“I’d be just fine if’n they hadn’t taken Jeb.  Not so much as a ne’er you mind.  Jus’ up an' took ‘im.”

             
“Are you sure it was King’s men who took him?” Jorem asked.

             
“Oh, aye!  It was King’s men fer sure.  All fancy uniforms an’ shiny badges.  Said they was ‘scription sojers.  My Jeb, he ain’t no sojer.”  She had started out aggressive and fierce.  Now, with tears running down her face, she looked beaten, lost.  Jorem hadn’t heard of a conscription announcement and a quick conference with the rest of the men proved they had heard nothing of it either.  But they had had little word from the crown since they’d left the city of Broughbor, so it was possible.

             
“I can’t get your man back for you.  Not if he’s been called to the war,” Jorem said.  “Is there anything we can do for you?  Anything you need?”

             
The woman looked around as a young boy poked his head out the door.             

             
“Tenny, I told ye ta stay inside!”  The boy couldn’t have been more than eight years old.  Eyes wide and mouth agape, he stared at Jorem and the others.  Enthralled with so many grown men about, the boy paid no heed to his mother’s words. 

             
On impulse, Jorem stepped toward the boy and held out his hand.  “Hello Tenny, I’m Jorem.  I’m sorry your Father had to go.  We were on our way through and stopped to lend a hand if it’s needed.”

             
“Pa… ,” the boy stammered, “Pa was settin’ to go huntin’ when they took ‘im.  We don’t got much food left an’ Ma, she’s been goin’ without.”

             
“Looks like you’re a bit low on firewood as well,” Jorem said, looking at a small pile of sticks at the side of the house. 

             
In short order, Jorem sent four men, including the scouts, in search of some game.  The rest of the men he had scouring the area for deadfall, trees knocked down by the winter snow and wind.  Meanwhile, he hunted up an axe.  After a few minutes with a stone, the axe had a decent edge.

             
As the men brought the wood in, Jorem chopped it to length.  The boy Tenny made himself useful by carrying the chopped wood over by the house and stacking it.  The boy’s mother fretted over the men coming and going.  She finally gave up her worrying and went to help the men locate downed trees.

             
It was nearly sundown when the four men who had gone hunting returned.  They had managed to get a few rabbits and brush hens along with a fair sized buck.  The wood pile was stacked high enough that Jorem called a halt to that effort as well.

             
The birds were given over to the woman and the rabbits put on a spit over a quickly set fire.  While they waited for the rabbit to cook, a couple of men hung the deer off a branch of a nearby tree.  They made sure it was high enough that wild animals wouldn’t be able to get to it.  They also tied the ropes in such a way that the woman and her boy would be able to get it down without too much trouble.

             
The smell of cooking meat was filling the air when the woman came out of the cottage and approached Jorem.

             
“We’ve not room fer all of ye inside.”  Her voice quavered as she spoke and her hands twisted at the apron around her narrow waist.

             
“We’ll be fine out here ma’am,” Jorem said with a smile.  “If you’d like, I can bring some meat to the house so you and Tenny can eat at your table.”

             
“If’n it’s all the same to you milord,” she said with a slight curtsy, “we’ll be joinin’ ye out ‘ere.”

             
Jorem turned and glared at the men behind him, for which he received snickers and smirks from the lot.

             
“Come then, milady, and we’ll make a meal of it,” Jorem said, turning back to the woman.

             
“M’ name’s Pirta,” she said, blushing.  “An’ thank ye fer what ye’ve done fer us, milord.”

             
“Jorem.  Please call me Jorem.  What we’ve done is no less than what should have been done before.  Now, please join us.”

             
While they ate and told tales to entertain each other, Jorem couldn’t help but notice Tenny’s eyes on him.  It took a while, but after their meal was finished, the boy couldn’t restrain himself any longer.              

             
“Are you really Prince Jorem?” Tenny asked.

             
“I am indeed, though I’m told I don’t look like a prince.”

             
“But they said you was clumsy and scrawny an’, an’ nothin’ but spare air.”

             
Several of the men laughed at the boys words and Jorem laughed with them.  Had it not been for their mirthful reaction, the boy’s mother would likely have bolted.  Even so, she’d turned a shade whiter.

             
“I’m hoping they meant spare heir,” Jorem said, still laughing, “and I must admit I am.  As for my tendency to break everything in sight, well, I’ve had a lot of friends helping me with that.”

             
“So…,” the boy hesitated, “so why’s my pa gone to fight the war instead of you?”

             
Tenny’s words brought silence from the whole camp.

             
Jorem chose his words carefully.  “Your father has gone to do something very important, something I wouldn’t be allowed to do if I were there.  He’s gone to protect the Kingdom, to protect the whole Kingdom from people who would take what we have and leave us with nothing.

             
“I’m here to help the people.  To see they have what they need.  I’ll help those who need helping, like you and your mother.  If they need protection, well, we’ll do what we can to keep them safe.  I guess you could say your father is helping protect the Kingdom as a whole, and I’m protecting the Kingdom one person at a time.”

             
“Will my pa come home?”

             
“I hope so.  I truly hope so!”