Barrett The Beggar - 4. The Taking of Norfolk

Will and Barrett left their horses with a squad of soldiers who hid in a copse a few miles from Norfork. The boys rode into the city on a farm wagon, drawn by oxen and filled with produce. The boys and the wagon passed through the gate among a dozen others, and attracted no attention. No one was watching when they jumped from the wagon as it passed a particular alley.

Barrett held the hem of Will’s cloak and followed closely. They crept silently across the stable yard. Their goal was the mud room. Bells had just rung compline; the scullery should be empty. From the scullery, the boys could enter the kitchen and make their presence known to Edward and his family. Hearing nothing from the scullery, Will opened the door and stepped in. What he saw brought him to a standstill, but only for a moment. He pushed his travel cloak behind him, drew his dagger, and rushed toward the startled boy.

In an instant, Will’s dagger pressed against the boy’s throat; his left arm held the boy immobile. “What are you doing here?” Will asked. “You falsely swore against me. You and your companions had me declared outlaw—”

From the now-opened kitchen door, Kerry’s plea interrupted Will. “No, Will! Not he! Not Luke. It was he who brought us word in time for you to escape. Oh, Will, please. Release him!”

“I will hear more,” Will said. He moved neither his arm nor his dagger.

“It was Malcolm, the one who ran away,” the boy named Luke said. “Malcolm swore falsely. And Stewart…who I thought was my friend…he’s the one whose hand you cut off. Stewart swore with him. I protested, and told them you were the one who offered Pax and who bound Stewart’s hand. They wouldn’t listen, nor would Malcolm’s father, the Masterguildmaster.”

“It’s true,” Kerry gasped. “I know it to be true.”

Will relaxed his grip on Kerry, and lowered his dagger. “And you warned Kerry to help us escape? Was it because you saw my sword’s magic and sought favor?”

“Magic?” Kerry said

“Magic?” Luke echoed.

“Magic?” the Edward said from the doorway. “I heard a scuffle,” he added. “What’s going on? Will? Barrett? What are you doing here? Why have you returned?”

Will was flustered, but recovered quickly. “I have abused your hospitality and attacked Luke who is your guest…and apparently Kerry’s friend. I ask your forgiveness; if you will grant it, I will leave.”

“Not until I know what’s going on,” the publican said. “If you wish my forgiveness, you must tell me.”

“When I first came to this town, Barrett put his life in my hands, and I in his. I have never regretted having done this. I will now put my life into your hands. But I cannot put Barrett’s life—” Will began, only to be interrupted.

“My life is yours, Will,” Barrett said. “Tell them.”

Will looked deeply into Barrett’s eyes, and then nodded.

Will took a deep breath. “I am William, son of Silvanus, and Atheling of Arcadia. I have returned to Norfork to repay your hospitality and sanctuary by ridding the city of certain evil forces. After which, it is my intention to lead a force to Eblis to find your son (he looked at the publican), your brother (he looked at Kerry), and your friend Zan (he looked at Barrett), and to ensure that no one else will be taken by the ships of Eblis.”

Barrett hid his surprise. Will had said nothing before about attacking Eblis, and Barrett was certain Will’s father knew nothing of this part of the plan.

Kerry and Luke looked at Kerry’s father. “It’s true,” he said to them. Will remembered that the man was a Sembler.

“My Lord,” the publican began, “I forgive you right readily for any offense you have caused in my household. Luke,” he turned to that boy, “Luke, you are my son’s companion; I extend that forgiveness on your behalf, as well.”

Luke nodded.

I remember: He follows the old ways, Will thought.

“Thank you for your forgiveness,” Will said. “I am in your debt thrice over. I would settle that debt, and set us on an even path.” A third debt has an ancient meaning, he thought. The even path, also. Let’s see what he says.

“My Lord,” the publican said. “You may annul the debt by accepting my fealty, and that of my son and his companion.”

Will’s mind raced. He does indeed know the old ways. He’s offering his life and that of his son…and Luke, too. Luke and Kerry must have sworn brotherhood in the old way, else he could not make this offer.

Whatever Will was about to say was interrupted when the publican’s wife ran into the room. “The Prince is dead!”

She could not have been more surprised when her husband, son, and son’s companion knelt, and bowed their heads to Will.

*****

“This changes only the timing of my plan,” Will said. “I will rid Norfork of this evil, and I will attack Eblis.” He paused. “Only you four know of the plan to attack Eblis; you must tell no one, yet.”

“But must you not return to Arcadia to claim the throne?” Edward asked.

Will took a long time to answer. When he did, his voice was heavy. “My father knew he was about to die. He named me Atheling, and his Privy Council swore fealty before I departed for Norfork. We all knew that he would be dead before I returned; the Privy Council will guard the throne until I return. The throne is safe.”

*****

The soldiers had traveled in small bands. Only a few used the Royal Road; most traveled cross country or on farm roads. The fields were empty, and the trees in the copses largely bare. The weather kept even the hardiest farmers indoors, and the soldiers passed unnoticed by most. The few farmers who saw the soldiers hunkered in their homes, hoping that what they perceived to be brigands would bypass them, or that their palisades and stout gates would deter an attack.

Will and Barrett sauntered to the gate. Kerry and his father walked several paces behind them. Others of their family and friends, recruited and sworn, moved in from other directions. Their goal was the gatehouse and control of the mechanism that operated the portcullis.

Within minutes of their arrival, Prince William’s forces controlled the gatehouse. The Army marched unchallenged into Norfork. The two guards—although Will did not recognize them—who had spat betel juice when Will had first entered the city, stood quietly. They had given their parole, verified by one of the tween Semblers among Master Edward’s companions.

With Will at their head, the soldiers marched to the baron’s palace. Nor did they encounter resistance, there. Others of Master Edward’s companions had preceded them on pretext of seeking audience. The baron’s guard—as slovenly and lazy as those at the gate—proved no match for determined and disciplined men.

*****

Will stood upon the dais in the baron’s audience chamber. The baron stood before him. “My lord,” Will began. “I charge you with treason, in that you did foreswear your oath to protect and cherish your people when you treated with the black ships of Eblis. I charge you with impressing and enslaving your own people—for by enabling Eblis to carry them off into certain slavery, you became a knowing participant. I charge you with murder, for you must have known the fate of some of those taken. I charge you…

“No. No further charges. That is quite enough,” Will concluded. “You may speak.”

The Baron of Norfork, his face ashen, mumbled. “My Lord, I beg you…”

“You shouldn’t have said that,” Will interjected when the baron fell silent. “On my first visit to Norfork I met a beggar. A boy. Diseased and emaciated. I add him to your crimes. Your life is forfeit so that you can harm no one else. May you find the Light in your next life.”

Will stepped down from the dais. The assembly gasped when Will severed the man’s head from his body with a single blow of a sword that glowed with its own light.

Will read the reaction of the people gathered. “My father taught me that while the prince declares the law that binds the people, the law that binds the people also binds the prince. He told me that if a man must die to preserve the life of one person or of many, the death was on the head of the prince, even if the death were done by another upon the authority of the prince. As your prince, I promise this: I will not do anything that does not preserve the life of the country and its people. I will ask no man to do that which I would not do myself. This man died not because of his crimes or his Evil, but to ensure that he brought no more harm. That is the law of Arcadia. Vengeance has no place here. That is the law of Arcadia. If anyone doubts that, let him or her speak freely. That also, is the law of Arcadia.”

The people assembled stood silent for several breaths, and more. Will scanned the late baron’s audience chamber, ignoring the widening pool of blood at his feet.

It began with one young boy, but swept quickly through the chamber. In only a few breaths the people were on their knees, their heads bowed. “Hail, William, Prince of Arcadia,” the boy said. That, too, spread until the chamber echoed with the cry: “Hail, William, Prince of Arcadia.”

*****

The formal audience was over. Will met privately with Luke. They were alone in Will’s chambers. “The boys, Malcolm and Stewart, are your friends. You are heart-bound and oath-bound to those I love and honor. Malcolm and Stewart’s fathers have been implicated in the slave trafficking. However, if you ask it, they will be spared.”

Luke looked horrified. His stomach churned. “My Lord—” he began.

William said nothing.

“You ask too much of me,” Luke said. “I cannot—”

Will maintained his silence.

“Please, my Lord—” Luke begged.

Will remained silent. Several breaths passed.

“My Lord,” Luke said, “If the laws that bind the people also bind their Prince, how much more do they bind me? I will not break the law, nor will I ask you to break it.” Luke paused. He stood erect and faced Will squarely. “Is that what you want to hear?”

Emotions flickered over Will’s face. He stepped toward Luke. His voice was rough and he fought to stop tears. “Luke, please forgive me. I did not mean for this to be a test! I thought that I might give you something, something to repay a debt I owed to another. Instead, you have placed me deeper in debt. You are right, of course. I cannot treat Malcolm and Stewart’s fathers differently. I could not even treat your father differently, were he involved. Nor would a gift to you—especially one so tainted—repay a debt to another. I am so foolish—”

Will’s eyes widened when he felt Luke’s arms around him. “Oh, Will,” Luke said. “Barrett is right to love you.”

It was all for nothing! Will thought later. Malcolm’s father, and Stewart’s, killed themselves rather than face trial and censure, perhaps death. I didn’t have to challenge Luke, after all. Not that I intended to. Hmmm, perhaps it wasn’t all for nothing. I learned something very important, and have found a true friend in Luke.

*****

The Senior of the temple at Norfork, seven other clerics, a dozen Acolytes, and perhaps 50 Probationers, stood before Will.

Will spoke:

In the night, they come:
things that dare not walk
in the light of day.
Men with skin of iron,
beasts with eyes of fire.
When the morning comes,
boys like me are gone,
never seen again.
Fighting for the dark,
on the ships that fly
flags of black and gold.

“I had been in Norfork less than an hour when I heard that from a boy who hid in fear; a boy whose friend was one of those taken. The next morning, I heard from a man whose son had been taken. Not long after, I learned that this evil had been done with the assistance—even the encouragement—of the temple.

“Your baron, who was involved, and who foreswore himself, is dead so that he cannot continue this evil. Can any of you tell me why you should not be treated the same?”

The Senior stepped away from the others, and spoke. “My Lord, I alone am responsible. The others acted by my example and under oath to me. Kill me, but spare them. I do not ask this. I demand it under the law.”

Will nodded. “You have the right of it. Any of the others who will renew their oaths to the Light and who will serve as healers or soldiers on our expedition to Eblis shall have redeemed themselves.” He paused, and then added, “The probability of returning from Eblis is very, very low.”

The Senior’s execution was done in private. Two of his closest followers elected to follow him in death. The other clerics, acolytes, and probationers were sworn and attached to Army maniples. They were put under oath of absolute obedience to their Decurions. It was all I could do, Will thought. I’m already tired of killing, and the war hasn’t yet started.

*****

Will, now Prince William to everyone except Barrett, who quietly continued to call him Will, sat with his closest advisors. Edward, the publican, was one. His son Kerry and Kerry’s companion, Luke, were there. Another of Edward’s sons, Malcolm, a cleric, sat with his father. Edward looked at Malcolm with pride and a little awe. The boy, nearly a man, now, was a powerful cleric. His magic had quelled the clerics at the temple, and secured a victory there. Equally important, he had ensured that they could not mount a magical attack on Will when he sat in judgment on them. A Centurion, the leader of the soldiers who had accompanied Will from Arcadia, and who had been commander of Will’s bodyguard, sat by the fire. He was born in Carter, and joked that his blood had never adapted to the colder weather of the Arcadian winter. Two of Edward’s friends, men who wore dark garments and sharp swords, and who had led the fifth column—people of Norfork allied against the evil of the baron and the temple—sat in a dark corner, as if to make it harder for anyone to see their features. They had been fighting a secret, underground war for years, and were unaccustomed to being the victors.

Will broke the silence. “Malcolm, it is custom for each temple to elect its own Senior, and for the Senior to rule by consensus. On the other hand, it is unlikely that anyone left in Norfolk merits that title. Until the temple is reconstituted, will you accept the title of Senior?” Will looked anxiously at Malcolm. He knew that he was intruding on a prerogative that the temple had reserved unto itself. The temple, like the guilds, determined its own leadership. Despite its subordination to the crown, it accepted and rejected applicants based on its own criteria; it promoted people according to its own rules; it determined its members’ qualifications for advancement and for office.

Malcolm raised his eyes from the parchment he was studying. “My Lord, a hundred lifetimes ago, a Prince of Arcadia commissioned a band of explorers and adventurers to establish a port where the north fork of the River Alph enters the sea. By the time they found out that the north fork and the south fork of the river were two different rivers, it was too late. The town had been named Northfork. Today, we call it Norfork, to the consternation of the College of Heralds, who want to call it Norfolk, after that noble family.

“I ramble, my Lord. But the lesson is there. That prince appointed a Senior and Guildmasters, charging them to lead their people until they were established and confident in their ability to select their own leaders.

“In the spirit and memory of my ancestors, I will right gladly accept your commission, holding it until the temple of Norfork is reestablished, and its people are confident of their ability to select their own Senior.”

People nodded. Others came to shake Malcolm’s hand, and to offer words of encouragement and pledges of support. When they had returned to their seats, Will spoke again.

“Master Edward, when I first came to your inn, the sign of the Boar’s Head tugged at my memory. It was not until I returned to Arcadia that I remembered, and was able to pursue that memory. A boar’s head issuant is the central device of the arms of a noble family, the House of Glouster. One of my companions, a Pursuivant, found that for me.” Will paused, and looked at the publican who had been so instrumental in Will’s success.

“An ancient house, indeed, my Lord,” Edward replied. “Your friend must have gotten quite dusty searching for it.” He chuckled.

“You’re avoiding my question,” Will said.

“I’m sorry, my Lord,” Edward said. “What question was that?”

“Very well, be obtuse,” Will said. “I will be plain. Are you a descendant of the House of Glouster? Are you the heir to that title?”

“Yes and no, my Lord,” Edward replied. “No, no,” he waved his hands, “I’m not being obtuse.

“I am a lineal descendant of Richard of Glouster, who was at one time Duke of Carter. (The Centurion looked up from the fire when he heard this.) Richard’s sons died without male issue; his daughter was betrothed to a druid; neither of them had interest in titles or castles. The Dukedom was taken by a sister’s son, whose line includes the current Duke. The sister had married the Baron of the Marches of the Sea—another ancient title. Their son was awarded that family’s name and devices when he became Duke. I am descended from the Druid and the daughter. We have no claim of nobility, nor any designs on it. However, the family has for sentimental reasons kept the boar’s head as its sign. It was useful to acknowledge noble ancestry when recruiting my companions…those men you met in the mudroom…but I assure you, my Lord, I never pretended to be noble.”

Will rose, and stood in front of Edward. Edward rose from his seat. They stood, face to face. “Well, my friend, my very good friend and teacher, I’m afraid you’re going to have to. Noble, that is.”

Will put his right hand on Edward’s left shoulder. “I name and declare you, Edward, to be Baron of Norfork, to have and hold the estates and chattels thereto appertaining in service to the Light. I swear my love, my support, and my loyalty. Do you, Edward, accept this in fealty to Arcadia and in service to the people of Norfork?”

“I do, my lord, right gladly,” Edward replied.

Will spoke for Edward’s ears, only. “Thank you.” Aloud, he said, “My Lord, it will be incumbent upon you to honor those who have fought by our side today. The men and boys who were your companions must become visible. They have long hidden in the shadows to do the work of the Light.

“Now,” Will added, addressing all those in the room, “now we must plan our excursion to Eblis. The son of a baron and the friend of a beggar are there enslaved. Will you join me?”

The End

This story was found in The Book of Heroes. It is one of several stories about a wandering, or “errant” prince. The errant prince is often portrayed disguised as a beggar. The errant prince stories are inconsistent. We speculate that there was more than one wandering prince. We speculate that some of the stories were created as moral lessons. We also speculate that the stories changed with the telling before they were recorded in The Book of Heroes. We also speculate that the author of that book modified the stories. A recurring theme is that the prince kept his sword (which in some stories is a magical sword) wrapped in a blanket.

This particular story takes place in the Arcadian city of Norfork, which is on the eastern seacoast somewhat north of the capital city of Arcadia. The time of this story is probably two Great Wars before the one during which the putative author of The Book of Heroes lived. That would put it perhaps 20,000—30,000 years before the time of Prince Auric. A line in this story which includes the names Will and Barrett is quoted in “The Squire and The Acolyte,” another story in The Book of Heroes. Elsewhere, Norfork is described as being a rallying point for the Light and the landing place of forces from the Northern Continent during a great war. The House of Glouster which appears in this story is also mentioned in other stories. We note in passing that in this Earth-analogue, King Richard III of England, who has been maligned as the murderer of his nephews, the “princes in the tower of London,” was named Richard of Gloster or Glouster. His device was a boar’s head issuant.