The Squire and the Acolyte - 3. Reunion

Eric realized that the only way to escape, as he thought it, was not to be missed for at least one day and night. More would be better, he thought, but I don’t know if I can arrange that. A few casual remarks established the fiction that he would be visiting a cousin whose family lived on an estate just outside Elvenhold. It was a thin story, but Eric remembered something one of his tutors had told him. If it’s necessary to create a fiction, make it as simple as possible.

On the appointed day, Eric crept from the barracks well before dawn, and waited in the stables until sunrise. As soon as the bells rang prime, he was out the stable door and trotting down the street toward the southern gate. That road led past his cousin’s estate; it also led to Myre.

*****

“Please tell Acolyte Cameron that Squire Eric is here to see him,” the boy said, politely, to the acolyte who responded to his knock on the rectory door.

Eric paced the floor. The acolyte had invited him to wait in the large common room while he went to find Cameron. He’d been gone for several minutes. Eric became alarmed. He was about to follow the acolyte when the door burst open, and Cameron ran into the room. The boy skidded to a halt a few paces from Eric. “Eric?” he asked, softly.

Eric closed the gap between them and hugged the older boy. “Oh, Cam, I’m so happy to see you, again,” he whispered.

*****

“It is a bit unusual,” the senior said, “but he is your friend, and he has ridden all the way from Elvenhold to see you. Of course, he may stay. For a while,” he added. “You still have studies and duties for which you are responsible.”

*****

After breakfast on the following morning, Cameron found the courage to ask Eric, “Why did you not write me?”

Eric had carefully considered what to tell Cameron, but was still a little unsure. “I didn’t know where you were,” he said, levelly and calmly. “I asked, but no one seemed to know.”

“But the senior? Daniel? They knew. Would they not tell you?”

“I think they could not,” Eric said. “But that’s no matter, now, is it? I’ve found you!”

Cameron took his friend’s hand. “But only for a few days, isn’t it? I cannot leave, and you cannot stay here. How long did they say you could…?”

Cameron saw the look in Eric’s eyes. “They didn’t say, did they? You ran away?”

*****

Cameron had gotten the truth from Eric. “It distills to this: for some reason, they don’t want us to be together. Do they think I would be a false friend?” Cameron wondered.

“I don’t know,” Eric replied. “I don’t think so, though. I don’t think anyone could think that of you. Not if they knew you,” he added.

The door burst open. “You must come, quickly,” Achates said.

Eric and Cameron followed the boy to the refectory. They knew, without being told, that they were about to be separated, again.

*****

“Squire Eric,” the king’s seneschal greeted them when they entered the room. His face and voice were firm. “Your uncle wishes you to return with us. Instantly. Acolyte Cameron, by that same authority you are ordered not to communicate with Squire Eric again. Do I make myself clear? Do you have any doubt of the authority with which I speak?”

Cameron nodded. At least Eric’s wishes that he not be known as a prince were being respected. “Yes, my Lord. I understand.” He gripped Eric’s hand tightly. It was all the farewell they would be allowed.

*****

Eric had not been back in the palace more than a minute before he sought out the king. “Uncle,” Eric began, “Cameron has shown that he can obey orders and that he is honorable in his oath. You said that you were worried that he might reveal a glimpse of my future that will alter it. I am very disappointed in your lack of confidence in both of us! If I am that weak, then I should not be your heir. I should not even be a squire. If Cameron could not keep secret what he saw through clerical magic, then he should be cast from the temple. Since you have done neither, I must doubt your judgment.”

The king was obviously startled by the vehemence of his nephew and heir’s words. He also understood why Eric had insisted this meeting be private. Despite the boy’s tone and demeanor, the king did not chastise the boy.

“Why do you suppose the spurs of an elven Knight are mere strips of mithral, and not the sharp rowels used elsewhere?” the king asked.

Eric stood, stunned. The arguments he’d prepared fled from his mind.

“You look like a coy-fish in a stagnant pond, nephew,” the king said. “Do you have no answer?”

“Because a well-trained elven horse needs nothing more than the touch of the mithral, and to use rowels unnecessarily would be cruel,” the boy replied. “But—”

The king continued. “When a smith makes a sword, why does he strike it a thousand times with a light hammer, rather than a hundred times with a heavy hammer?”

Eric thought for only a moment before responding. “He can control the light hammer more easily than the heavy hammer.”

“Well?” the king asked.

“Excommunicating Cameron and disinheriting me would be unnecessarily cruel and would not as easily control the situation as would a forced separation,” he said, his voice humble. “I’m sorry, Uncle, I…”

“I am not sorry,” the king interrupted. “I’m not sorry at all. Nephew, you’ve learned an important lesson.”

He paused before adding, “And so have I. Your friend will be recalled to court. He must promise not to reveal to you anything he might see of the future. At least, not until he’s fully trained. And you must promise me that you will be very, very careful not to learn anything of your future from him, and will be very, very careful how you use what you do learn.”

“Oh I will promise, Uncle, and Cam will, too. I’m sure of it. But…is this another lesson? I don’t understand. If Cam is not to reveal anything to me, why I must be careful with what he reveals to me.”

“Not reveals to you intentionally, Nephew. However, you may be sure that without breaking his oath and without quibbling or equivocating, your friend will reveal things to you. It may be in a reluctance to take some path, or in an eagerness to take another. Do not assume that this stems from his talent, but do be cautious and rely on your own judgment rather than depending on what may be a poor interpretation of an inchoate and chaotic talent.”

“I understand, Uncle,” Eric said. “Thank you.”

*****

“You look pleased to be returning to Elvenhold,” Cam said to Jer as they rode north from Myre. As soon as they’d passed through the gates and reached the wider road, Cam had urged his horse ahead of where he’d been placed in the line. Months of riding back and forth between the temple in the mountain pass and the glebe in the valley below had made Cameron a good rider. Those same months had included intensive training in arms, magic, and healing. The fortress community was small: the clerics of the temple, the Army garrison, and a few servants. Among the handful of tweens, Cameron and Jer had become fast friends.

“Yes, my Lord, I, for one, will be glad to see Elvenhold, again,” Jer replied.

“Hey,” Cam said, “I’m Cam, not my Lord. It’s only been two days since we shared—”

The soldier looked at Cam and saw that the boy was not dissembling. “Do you not know? Did they not tell you?”

When Cam shook his head, the soldier brought his horse a little closer. “Then you’re the only one who doesn’t know. We’re under orders to escort you to Elvenhold where you will be ennobled as Prince-Consort. You’ll be My Lord to everyone lesser than … hmmm … Duke, I think.”

Cam was speechless.

*****

Jer’s friendship with Cam was strong enough, and Cam’s asking was sweet enough, that the two boys spent the journey in each other’s company. The centurion was unsettled. On the one hand, Cam was to be ennobled; on the other hand, he hadn’t, yet. Bowing to youthful desire and their obvious friendship, the centurion ensured that the boys had the quiet and freedom they needed. Cam was grateful for Jer’s company.

*****

It hung from the long bells of the herald trumpets, and flew from the gonfannon carried by…not just a herald, but by a knight riding a finely barded horse. The banner was green. Across the center was a gold bar. The top of the bar resembled the battlements of a castle. Crenellations, Cameron thought. Above the bar was a crown with short, squared spikes that echoed the crenellations. Had he studied heraldry, Cameron would have seen vert, a bar embattled or, in chief a coronet or. He’d probably have recognized the escutcheon as that of the Duke of Barbicana, with the addition of the coronet. He’d then have understood: it was the arms of Eric, son of the Duke of Barbicana, Prince and Dauphin, and Heir Presumptive of the Elven Kingdom.

Cameron’s escort stopped and moved their horses to either side of the road. Jer gestured to Cam. “No, you wait here. They’ve come to meet you.”

Nervously, Cam waited. I hope he’s right. No! I hope he’s wrong! Cameron thought.

Cam dismounted. He didn’t see the look of consternation on the centurion’s face; however, it was too late. Three horses rode toward Cam. The rider of the first leapt from his horse, dropped the reins to the ground, and ran the last 20 yards to Cam.

“Cam!” he said as he threw his arms around the boy. “Cam, I’m so glad to see you!”

“Eric?” Cam said, “Heralds? Trumpets? Banners? Knights to escort you? You’re pretty flamboyant…when you decide to be a prince and not a squire you do it in style…”

Eric had the grace to blush. “This is not my idea,” he whispered fiercely to Cam. “Uncle said I must…I’ll tell you, later.”

Aloud, he said, “Be welcome, Cameron.”

“Come on,” he whispered. “Back on your horse. We’ve got to get to the palace.”

The two boys rode side by side at the head of a procession of soldiers.

“Tu quoque mortalis est,” Cameron whispered.

“What?” Eric asked.

“Just something I read recently,” Cam answered. “Tell you, later.”

*****

The streets were not as crowded as they would have been on a market day, but the trumpets of the heralds drew spectators to their windows and doors. Other people came from the side streets and crowded into intersections. All seemed to recognize Eric, or at least his banner, and bowed and waved as he passed.

“They seem especially cheerful,” Cam observed. “I know they revere the king, but they hardly know you, do they?”

“I’ll tell you later,” Eric mouthed to Cameron as he doffed his cap in response to the bows, and reached down to clasp outstretched hands.