Authors: Alexander C. Hoffman
* * *
Later
that evening, Rowan returned to the barracks. He walked stiffly, his body
covered in bruises for the first time in quite a while.
He had
forgotten just how hard Baird could work him, pushing him to the limits of his
endurance and beyond. They had sparred until he was ready to drop, and then
they had continued for another half hour. He felt that he had done well, much
better than he ever had in the past. His master was still a superior swordsman
and had the advantage of height, weight, and reach, but Rowan fought well.
After
they had finished sparring, Baird insisted on tutoring him throughout the
following hour. They discussed politics, strategy, customs, ethics, and they
reviewed maps. Baird found Rowan’s lack of knowledge regarding the major
countries disturbing, and told him so very directly.
He could
guess with fair amount of certainty what they would be discussing tomorrow.
When he
got back to the barracks, he found that he had missed dinner. Glad that he had
grabbed a quick snack earlier, he made a mental note to discuss his eating
arrangements with Baird. If his master intended to continue their lessons,
Rowan would need to find some way to still eat.
Tired
and hungry, he sought out his bunk, placing Tenro on the floor beside him. Some
of the other boys gave him questioning looks, some went so far as to approach
him and ask him where he had been at such an odd hour. Rowan kindly ignored
them, saying that he was too tired to talk and that he had gone nowhere
important. He didn’t even notice that Erik was among those he tried to brush
off.
“You
won’t be rid of me that easily,” his friend said, tossing him a dinner roll.
Rowan accepted the bread and took a bite, savoring the food even though it was
cold, hard, and slightly stale. “Where were you this evening? I know you didn’t
sneak out this time because you aren’t grinning as you usually do when you
return from wherever it is that you go.”
“I don’t
come back grinning,” Rowan said, though secretly he wondered.
“So you
freely admit to sneaking?”
Rowan
cursed himself. His exhaustion was making it hard for him to concentrate and he
was left scrambling to cover his mistake. “You already know that I like to go
my own way, Erik.”
“Yes, I
do. But I didn’t know that you were alright with letting the whole camp know.”
Rowan
was in no mood for games. “The whole camp probably knows or suspects it anyway,
but where I go to is still my own. So long as no one disturbs me then what does
it matter?”
“Honestly,
Rowan,” Erik said, his voice thick with frustration. “You should worry more
about the consequences of your actions. Darius himself came to me and tried to
make me tell him what you were doing and where you were going.”
“I’m
sorry.”
“Don’t
apologize,” Erik said. “I just want you to know how things stand. You might not
care if you get punished, but it is difficult to watch you constantly defying
orders. People wonder whether you will be able to grow into a good soldier. And
Byron seems to enjoy fanning those flames.”
“Everyone
knows what Byron is like. Our feud is no secret.”
“That
isn’t the point, Rowan. With the way you act, his words are dangerous. Most of
the boys know not to believe him, but they are not the ones whose opinions
matter.”
“I was
under the impression that I was going to be a knight, not a soldier.”
Besides
,
he thought,
I might not even get the chance to sneak out again.
“It
doesn’t matter what you become if people do not think that you are loyal to the
crown. The people love our king, and they will love the princess when it is her
turn to reign and she has married. If you are not seen as trustworthy, then
even if you become a knight, you will have little power.”
There
was a pause.
“So
where were you this time?”
“I was
summoned to the castle by Baird. He wants to resume my training. He made me
spar until I was ready to drop so he could ‘test my progress.’ Then he lectured
me as though I were a scholar, talking about the different countries and their
peoples.”
“Does
this mean you will be leaving the barracks?” Erik asked. It was not
traditionally how a boy left, but Rowan’s position was far from normal. It was
standard to hold trials when a group of boys reached a certain age, and
graduate those who passed, giving positions, assignments, and ranks based on
performance and recommendations. The graduates would be moved out of the
training barracks and placed with other soldiers. Since the capitol itself did
not host a large standing garrison of troops, trainees often left when they
were graduated.
“No,”
Rowan replied. “I will still be living and training here with everyone. I think
Baird just wants to focus more on training me as his apprentice.”
“That’s
fantastic! I wish I could train as a knight’s apprentice. But I guess knights
are becoming rarer and rarer as King Alden continues to try and establish a
more organized and peaceful kingdom.”
Rowan
never voiced his innermost thoughts to anyone, excepting his discussions with
Eliza, but Erik was like a brother to him. Erik knew him well enough to
understand the significance of his return to a routine with Baird.
“It will
be nice to train with Baird again, but I fear that he plans on working me to my
death. You may find me to be a much easier opponent when we spar together.”
“That
will be helpful. I certainly won’t go easy on you. If you are tired, I will
take advantage of that. Anything to finally beat you.”
Rowan
laughed at the jest, but it brought to mind his sparring session with Baird
earlier. Baird had seemed unusually sluggish and significantly less energetic.
It was barely noticeable because it had been a while since they fought and even
when tired and weakened, Baird was stronger and faster than most men.
Remembering the unused bed in Baird’s room and the burned out candles, Rowan
realized that Baird must be working on something. Something important that was
taking up most of his time.
He felt
suddenly guilty about taking up Baird’s time just so that he could feel closer
to him. The training was a nice bonus, and he enjoyed it, but he really just
wanted to work alongside his master. He felt even worse because he knew that
Baird was partially, if not completely, driven by a need to keep him in check.
“Rowan,
are you even listening to me?” Erik’s voice broke him from his reverie.
“What?
Yes—I mean no. Yes, I was listening to you. I was just distracted. I am tired
and my mind wandered for a moment.”
Rowan
returned his focus to their conversation, but it soon ended as he claimed
exhaustion and bid Erik good night. Afterwards, he lay in his bed wondering
what Baird was focused on that could be so important.
Chapter 37
The days passed quickly for Rowan
once he resumed training with Baird. He did not have the time to continue their
lessons, though he sought a chance to sneak away to meet with Eliza anyways. He
still thought of her, and he missed the sense of closeness that he had felt
when they were together. But Baird kept him busy and the opportunity never
arose.
He spent
the days training with his friends under the guidance of the trainers. Because
the boys were growing closer to an age where they could graduate from their
training, they were expected to practice more. At the end of each day, he would
leave and continue training with Baird, though on the days that he had sparring
sessions with Erik he was allowed to be late. His master’s lessons and
exercises left him physically and mentally drained. Baird no longer focused
solely on sparring with Rowan, training him to be proficient with the standard
weapons of a soldier. They did continue sparring, but a much larger amount of
their time was now spent focusing on such things as politics, languages,
geography, and philosophy.
Rowan
found that Baird was very well learned. His master had travelled between the
different countries on many occasions, once even venturing south to explore the
Melosian wastelands. In his travels, he had learned much about other cultures
and he was now intent on passing his knowledge on to Rowan. They had lengthy
discussions about various subjects and he was made to study maps and learn the
different lands. “Knowledge is power,” Baird said, “and one day you will find
yourself grateful for the things I am making you learn today.” Rowan doubted
that he would ever need much of what he was taught, but he applied himself
regardless.
He was
made to learn different sets of letters, ones that he did not recognize. Baird
touched on numbers but he found the subject dull. It made his head hurt and he
was glad when it was not brought up a second time.
They
studied philosophy and ethics, how to act and what determined right and wrong.
Baird lectured him on how different peoples and different cultures had
differing ideas and customs that surrounded and defined their morality. The
people of the North, for instance, had no aversion to war and death. For them,
it was the way of life. But to show compassion to an enemy was taboo.
Rowan
was also made to learn the customs and cultural histories of other countries
and peoples. He was still largely unfamiliar with much of the history of Atlea,
his own country, and yet he was learning about others.
“Why are
these things so important?” Rowan asked once.
Baird
sighed, looking weary and strained, as he so often did. “If you ever went north
and found yourself among the Terran wildlings, what would you do?”
“I would
not have gotten myself caught, and I also would not have gone north since there
is not much up there. From what you have told me, the far North is just a dry
wasteland. A dead land.”
“You are
missing the point. If you were among the Northmen, among the wildling clans,
how would you greet them?”
Rowan
barely even considered the question. “I would hold out my hand or I would
kneel, depending on who I am greeting. Most likely I would hold out my hand
since there is no nobility to kneel to among the wildlings.”
“And in
doing so, you would be killed. The Terran wildlings are warrior clans and they
would take our greetings as an insult. Among them, respect is shown by holding
your head high and exposing your neck. Leaving yourself vulnerable is both a
sign of respect and a show of power. An extended hand shows intent to do battle
and kneeling is like asking to be beheaded. Bowing is no better.
“Do you
see now how your ignorance is a problem? As a knight, especially under Alden’s
rule, your duties may take you beyond the borders of our country. He is
attempting to foster lasting relations with the surrounding countries to bring
about a more peaceful era. For this, he needs people who can act as emissaries.
People like myself, and you, once you are ready.”
Rowan
made a special effort to apply himself after that, to learn all that Baird had
to teach him. It was not easy. There was much to learn, most of it very dull.
However, they kept up their sparring sessions, making his time with Baird much
more tolerable.
But
there was more on Rowan’s mind than his lessons with Baird.
Princess
Eliza.
Training
with Baird had forced Rowan to miss their last meeting and had kept him too
busy to try and find a new time to meet. It was all that he could do to not
pass out as soon as he returned to the barracks each evening. He did not have
the energy to sneak out at night and he felt sure that Darius was keeping a
close eye on him besides. It would take time for him to reach out to the young
princess, to figure out how to steal away unnoticed so that he could meet with
her.
The
young princess, however, could not capture his full attention. Now that Rowan
was spending time with his master, he began to grow concerned and curious about
the work that Baird did outside of their lessons. When Baird began meeting with
Rowan, he appeared weary and worn. Something was occupying his time, much of
his time, and the strain was visible as his attitude changed. He became less
energetic and like his usual self. He was more serious.
As Rowan
worked with Baird, the change in his master became more and more prominent
despite his newly found free time which was spent with his apprentice.
Baird
would appear haggard and at times would become distracted, seemingly lost in
his own thoughts. He even skipped several of their practice sessions, simply
leaving instructions with a servant or trainer for Rowan to practice with Erik
and his other friends under the guidance of Darius. Even absent, he was
determined to keep Rowan occupied.
Rowan
worried. He resolved to ask his master what was so troubling, to tell him that
he worried, and to offer to help. He was Baird’s apprentice and it was his
place to assist his master.
Finally
Rowan worked up the courage to talk with him.
It was
on a day that his master arrived to their lesson late. The evening sun had yet
to set and a slight chill was in the air. Rowan had been summoned and had come
to the grounds of the castle proper. He waited for Baird, preparing himself to
ask the question. He watched through the window of his master’s latest room as
the sun sank, waiting until Baird finally arrived, giving no explanation as to
what had kept him. He simply entered the room, closing the door behind him and
moving to seat himself. The man looked worn despite his strength and posture.
Whatever troubled him, it was deeper than physical exhaustion. Something
weighed him down and caused his shoulders to sag.
Once
faced with his master, Rowan’s resolve seemed to fail him. But he had to know.
“What is
it that you do when you are not with me?” Rowan blurted the question without
warning or hesitation.
Baird
froze, turning to look at Rowan carefully and thoughtfully.
“What do
you mean?”
“I want
to know what it is that troubles you and keeps you up so late at night and
leaves you looking worn and tired. Why have you missed our practice sessions
and why do I never get to hear about your duties outside of training? I have a
right to know.” He had not meant to ask so many questions at once, nor had he
meant to be so rushed. In his mind, he had planned how their conversation would
go, and like most plans, it had gone well. But once he had spoken, the words
came rushing out and now he could not take them back.
Rowan
breathed deeply to calm himself, a trick that Baird had taught him.
A
frenzied mind misses many things. A calm mind makes you perceptive, makes you
dangerous.
“There
are many things that I do, Rowan. One of my main duties is to oversee the
training of my apprentice. I am also responsible for the safety of the royal
family, something that our young princess makes quite difficult. Outside of
those two duties, I have many other obligations, none of which are very
interesting—”
“You are
hiding something. Don’t lie to me and avoid the issue.”
“I take
it that this is not the first time it has been on your mind.” Rowan’s silence
was answer enough. “You have many questions, Rowan, and many of the answers you
seek are not easy for me to give. Some answers are not mine to share and must
remain unspoken.” Baird seemed to regard Rowan thoughtfully, but he said
nothing more.
The
silence between them grew, Rowan waiting for answers and Baird deep in thought.
It was Baird who finally spoke.
“Listen
to me, Rowan. I trust you. You are a smart and honest boy and you are my
apprentice. However, I am dealing with something that is far more significant
than you or I. What is kept from you is for your own safety, not because of
mistrust. There will be a time for you to know and understand the issues that I
deal with, but this is not that time.”
“But why
not?” Rowan protested.
“Because
there are more important things than you!” Baird snapped. “What I deal with now
is dangerous. Thanks to King Alden, our country has experienced peace and
prosperity. But there are those who would upset this peaceful era, who disagree
with our king. I can tell you nothing more than that I keep watch over such
people. Now we will begin our lesson for the day and you will ask me no more
questions.”
Baird
led Rowan to a study where the next several hours were spent discussing
Lauratrean culture and language. Baird described the neighboring country to
Rowan, telling him of the land and its people.
Knowing
that he would get no more information from his master by prying and asking
about things which he refused to speak of, Rowan allowed himself to focus on
the lesson, as he found Lauratrea interesting. The eastern country was
completely different. Unlike Atlea, which saw snow during the months of winter,
the East was a land of heat that had seen a true winter only once, and that was
the winter that was said to have frozen the world for an age. It was a legend
told even in Corrinth.
“Lauratrea
is a country with a much more varied population of peoples than ours.” Baird
gestured towards the map hanging on the wall, depicting the many lands. It was
filled with detail and markers showing cities and towns and landmarks. Empty
areas indicated places that were untraveled. “It is far older and much larger
than our own country. Because Lauratrea is very spread out and has absorbed
large amounts of its lands over time, it has a very diverse culture which
varies strongly from region to region, particularly those that are isolated or
closer to the northern edge of the country where it is a much hotter and
harsher environment. Some scholars believe that our people are distantly
descended from the people of Lauratrea.”
Rowan
quickly dismissed the idea. The people in Corrinth had been there for
generations, and he did not consider himself the descendant of some ancient
foreign grandsire.
“Unlike
our country,” Baird continued, “Lauratrea has several leaders who are the
equivalent of kings, though they all ultimately answer to the Sandstone
Throne.”
“Why
call them kings if they answer to a king who is higher than them? It seems…”
Rowan searched for the right word. “Redundant.”
“They
are not kings in title, I am using the term because it is familiar. They refer
to themselves as high princes, or, if you are a foreigner, high lord might be
passable so long as you show the proper respect, since they do not refer to
their nobility as lords and ladies.”
“But why
have others who are like kings? Why give others a position of such power when
it would disrupt your own?” Baird frowned at this, but made no comment. “They
must have disagreements, which would lead to struggle, war, and chaos. How can
they function?”
“How can
our own country function?” Baird asked.
The
question caught Rowan off guard. They were speaking of Lauratrea, not of their
own country.
“The
nobility of our country function in much the same way as the high princes of
Lauratrea.” Baird said. “They have wealth and power and all the influence that
it affords them. They oppose and support the throne as they please, though they
all remain
loyal
. They squabble amongst themselves and cause King Alden
no small amount of frustration. Adding to this, we have the leaders of our
armies, who command the king’s forces.”
“That is
different,” Rowan protested. “They all answer to the king. He commands his
armies and all soldiers listen to him. He…” Rowan trailed off as he suddenly
understood the point Baird was making. The difference between nobility and the
high princes of Lauratrea was simply one of title, the power and influence were
the same.
“I don’t
know that I like what I have learned.”
“Because
you better understand the power of wealth in our country? It is a hard thing to
acknowledge, and it can be unnerving to know that the throne is not an
absolute, all controlling power. But it is better to understand the way things
function than to remain blindly ignorant. It is why I teach you.”