Barrett The Beggar - 3. Return of the Prince

Kerry woke Will and Barrett. “You must not come to the common room,” he said. “Your breakfast is in the kitchen. Wait there for my father.” He hurried out the door.

The publican’s wife fed the boys, and then urged them to wait in the scullery. “You’ll not be seen should someone enter the kitchen. Not likely, I know, but…” She shut the door behind herself.

Will assessed the situation. Kerry’s summons had alarmed him, so he’d brought his sword, carefully wrapped and tied in his blanket. In addition to the door from the kitchen, a second door led to the mudroom. From the mudroom to the stable yard, Will thought. We are not trapped.

“What’s happening?” Barrett whispered. “What’s wrong?”

Will took the smaller boy’s hand. “I don’t know, little one,” he said. “But I believe Master Edward and his family to be friendly to us. They will tell us when they can.”

Moments later, Master Edward came into the scullery wiping his hands on his apron. “Barrett was recognized,” he said. “One of the three tweens who attacked him…you…saw him in the street. He told the others.

“One of the three is son of a Guildmaster. That boy has aroused his father, who has incited the Guild Council. The boys have convinced the council that they were the victims. The council has relied on their families’ status rather than a Sembler. You,” the publican said, looking at Will, “you will be declared outlaw. The council is meeting this morning. One of my friends is secretary to the council and sent word to me.”

The publican continued. “I offered you sanctuary, and will not withdraw that offer.”

Will protested. “You are honorable. But I cannot allow my presence to draw danger to you. What about Barrett? Is he, also, anathema?”

The publican’s eyebrows lifted at Will’s use of the old word. “Yes. With further lack of wisdom, the council has decreed that he is guilty by association.”

“Then Barrett and I must leave,” Will said. “We must leave immediately."

"Kerry will take you out of the city on the wagon,” Master Edward said.

Will protested the publican’s plan. “The danger to Kerry is too great! I do not want to draw harm to you or your family!”

The publican was adamant. “I offered sanctuary; pity that that old custom is not honored. In any case, if you are concerned about my family, you must realize that the faster you get away, and the farther you go, the safer we are. Hmmm?”

Will again acknowledge the man’s wisdom, and agreed.

Kerry drove the wagon. Barrett sat beside him. Three shirts—these without holes—and two pair of trousers padded his limbs, and a straw hat concealed his features. Will sat on the tailgate of the wagon. His bare feet danged from the wagon; a straw dangled from his mouth. His sword, wrapped in an oiled cloth, and a pair of boots lay under the wagon’s load: the old straw and manure from the stable. A cloth cap covered his hair. He tried to cultivate a blank stare, but was too keyed up to do so. The wagon approached the gate. Will’s eyes narrowed. The muscles in his stomach tightened.

The guards’ insouciance—or the stench from the wagon’s load—was the key to their escape. It’s almost sext, Will thought. Do they not know? Would the gate guards not be alerted? Or do they simply not care? The wagon passed through the gate.

At the Royal Road, Kerry turned north, and called for Will to join him and Barrett on the seat. “The farm where I’ll deliver the manure is ten miles down the road,” he explained. “I’d like to take you farther…”

Will interrupted. “We should not be seen by the people at the farm. They might prove more reliable witnesses than the guards on the gate. We’ll get off the wagon before you reach the farm.”

“That’s the glebe,” Barrett said, demanding Will’s attention by tugging on his sleeve. “Look, they’re growing only flowers.”

Will followed the boy’s gesture. Stretching from the road to the horizon were fields of poppies, ripe for harvest. Boys and men, all in clerical robes, were walking the rows, dragging huge canvas bags which they filled with the flower heads. Will’s mind raced. Poppies...what would create that much demand for poppy seeds? Will answered his own question.They’re making opium!

“Kerry, is opium sold in the city?” Will asked.

Kerry looked hard at Will. Then he shrugged. “Yeah,” he said. “For the past couple of years. Everyone knows, but no one will say anything because it’s the temple and the baron that are doing it. Some say they’re shipping it to Eblis in the same ships that…” Kerry stopped talking. He choked back tears. “The same ships that are taking people…my brother…”

“I’m sorry,” Will said. “I’m sorry I made you remember, but I had to know.”

Minutes later, Will and Barrett stood in a copse; Kerry continued northward. “No one could have seen us get off the wagon,” Will said, looking up and down the road. “But there’s no concealment beyond these trees, either. We’ll wait here until dark, and then start walking. And we’ll be going that way,” he pointed to the south. “It’s time for me to go home.”

    *****

Will carried Barrett on his shoulders. The younger boy could not keep up the pace that Will set. He had protested, but Will was adamant. “I must get home.” Barrett was too tired to argue, although his mind was filled with questions.

“Look,” Will said. “The farm…” He walked confidently toward the stockade that surrounded the farmstead. “Hello, Martins,” he called. A boy’s head appeared at the top of the stockade. The head disappeared and the boy, himself, appeared at the gate. He was as tall as Will, but stockier, and he held a sword in his hand.

“This is the farm of Master Martin,” the tween said. “Is the boy injured? Who are you?”

“It’s Will,” that boy answered. “And my companion, Barrett. Don’t you recognize me Clee?”

“My lord!” Clee exclaimed. “You’re safe, after all!”

Mistress Martin cleaned and bound Barrett’s feet, blistered by the boots. Will had bathed the boy, who now watched as Will bathed.

“He called you My Lord,” Barrett said. “And Mistress Martin bowed to you.” He looked at Will, but said nothing more. Does he remember he promised not to lie? Barrett wondered.

“I promised not to lie to you,” Will said.

He remembered, Barrett thought. I’m so glad…

“I told you that I was a prince,” Will began. “That is true. I did not tell you that I was the eldest son of Silvanus, Prince of Arcadia. If I live and am not disinherited, I will be prince when my father dies.”

“When we first met, you said, If I am to rule, but I thought you were crazy,” Barrett whispered. “It may be, rather, that I am crazy. But I believe you.” Barrett looked thoughtful. “So you are My Lord?”

Will reached from the water and took the boy’s hand. “Not to you, Barrett. To you, I am always Will.”

    *****

Barrett had marveled at the rich clothes and the fine horse that Clee and his family had kept for Will during his adventure. “Master Martin is a cousin of my mother, and a landgrave.” At Barrett’s puzzled look, Will added, “That’s like a baron, except that he doesn’t maintain an army. Barons do.

“My father wouldn’t let me leave the palace except under guard. I couldn’t see anything that way. With mother’s help, I arranged a visit to the Martin farm, and with Clee’s help, made my way from there.”

Master Martin, four of his sons and another nine men—retainers and brothers—rode before them. Will insisted that Barrett ride with him, and the boy sat uncomfortably behind Will. “Hold on tight,” Will had whispered.

As they approached the western gate of Arcadia, two of the men spurred their horses to a trot. Approaching the gate, they cried, “Make way for Prince William! Make way!”

Will threw his cloak off his shoulders to reveal the red and gold tunic that bore the dragon of Arcadia over his heart. The crowd, alerted by the outriders, parted and stared. The more quick-witted bowed.

Master Martin and his companions waved, and turned back toward home. Master Martin had pressed Will to be allowed to escort him to the palace, but Will had demurred.

    *****

Will was alone with his father. Prince Silvanus’s anger smoldered on his brow and in his eyes.

“William,” the Prince began. “Your mother’s happiness at your return will not be enough to save you from…whatever punishment I decide upon. What were you thinking…?”

“Father,” Will interrupted (I might as well interrupt his tirade; I’m already in enough trouble he thought), “I have never seen Arcadia except from behind a line of soldiers…”

“For your safety!” Silvanus answered.

“That I traveled on my own to Norfork and back without injury suggests otherwise,” Will said. “That I rode from the western gate to the palace unescorted suggests otherwise.

“Further,” Will said before he could be interrupted. “I know you have done what you thought best, but if I am to be prince, I must know the land and the people I am to govern.”

    *****

“Will,” Barrett began, “I cannot stay here. I am a beggar. Let me go to the streets—”

Will put his fingers over the boy’s mouth. “Little one, I will deny you nothing, so please do not ask me to turn you out into the streets.

“Barrett, you have become very dear to me,” Will continued. “I have taken you from your home, twice. You cannot return to Norfork; yet you would be lost in this city. Arcadia is ten times larger than Norfork and despite what you have seen, it is a dangerous place. My father was not entirely wrong to keep me confined to the palace.

“I did not like that confinement; I will not keep you a prisoner. But I will ask you to please stay with me…”

    *****

The spies Will had sent out returned from Norfolk. After listening to their report, Will gestured for them to follow him.

They approached the King’s chambers. “Please wait here for a moment,” Will instructed.

“Father,” Will began, “I have sent spies to Norfolk to learn the truth of the rumors I reported when I returned from that place. They have arrived. Their report confirms the rumors.”

“I know,” the Prince said.

“How? None of them would have told you.” Will said.

“No, none of them did; your people are loyal to you, as they should be. However, I have spies of my own, Will,” his father said. “Let’s hear what yours have to say.”

“In addition to the temple glebe, several farms of the baron’s land are given over to the growing of poppies and cannabis,” the soldier-in-mufti reported. “Both opium and hashish are extracted. Rather than defending the city and succoring its people, the baron and the Senior pay Eblis to raid only the docks and warehouse district. They pay in drugs. Thus, the nobility are protected at the expense of the citizenry.” The soldier carefully kept any hint of censure from his voice.

Prince Silvanus dismissed everyone save Will. “Your spies tell you what I have heard; they confirm what had been only rumor. Will, I have not been a good ruler.” He waved his hands to cut off Will’s incipient protest. “I have failed to protect my people and to prepare them to battle the Darkness that rises in Eblis. That you have done all you have done, surely shows my failure and your qualifications to rule when I die.

“That will be soon,” he concluded.

Will slept little that night. His father was approaching the end of his life. His healer had told him that he might have no more than a month to live. That’s why he was so anxious about me…and angry, Will thought.

“I must lead the mission,” Will insisted. “I know the city and I have friends there. Barrett knows the area of the city where we must begin our work. I believe, also, that I will be able to recruit allies that none of your generals could find.”