The Squire and the Acolyte - 2. Separation

“The boy is to be removed,” the king said. “They are to have no further contact. Send the boy elsewhere for training. Apprentice him to an errant. Return him to his family. Do what you will. But send him away.”

The senior bowed in obedience. His arguments and pleas on Cameron’s behalf had been considered, and then rejected. The king would not have a scryer, especially an untrained one, in contact with the heir. The danger to Eric, indeed, the danger to the kingdom, was too great. Cameron and Eric were to be separated. Eric, as heir presumptive, would—of course—remain at the court. That meant Cameron would have to be sent away. Far away.

*****

Cameron stood before the senior. His hands clutched The Book of Heroes and sheets of foolscap.

“Cameron,” the senior began, “you will continue the translation without my supervision. You are to travel to Myre. This letter, to the senior there, provides instructions for your training. You will leave today—immediately, in fact. Daniel is gathering your possessions and will bring them and travel clothes. We will meet him and the rest of your party at the stables. Come.”

The senior rose and gestured to Cameron to follow him.

“But…but Senior! I don’t want—”

“Your oath, Cameron,” the senior said firmly but kindly. “You are oath bound to obedience.”

The boy flushed. He’s right, of course. I know…but “But Senior, may I not say goodbye to my friends?” Eric! What about Eric?

“Your friends…your cohort…will be told of your departure. They, too, are under oath, and will understand.”

A decurion and three maniples of soldiers were waiting at the stable. One soldier held the reins of a riderless horse. Daniel had already attached saddlebags containing Cameron’s possessions. He held a travel cloak. As Cameron put on the cloak, Daniel packed the book and papers in a pouch attached to a baldric, which he gave Cameron.

“May the Light go with you,” he whispered as he helped Cameron mount the horse.

One of the soldiers quickly adjusted the stirrups to the length of Cameron’s legs. “They said you’d never ridden, before,” said the soldier. His voice was brisk, but not unkind.

“No,” Cameron answered. “I haven’t.”

“Then I’ll lead the horse. Hold on with your knees, and with your hands on the front of the saddle. I’ll show you more, as we ride.”

Cameron looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone he knew, someone who could take a message to Eric. There was no one. He was alone.

*****

Cameron’s door was closed. He wasn’t at supper, Eric thought. There’s no one else in his room. I’ve counted carefully. All the boys are accounted for. Why will he not come out?

Breaking protocol for the second time in as many days, Eric knocked gently at the closed door to Cameron’s room. Only silence replied. Eric turned as if to leave, paused, and then turned back to the door. Using his fist rather than a knuckle, he pounded on the door. Nothing. Something’s wrong, he rationalized as he put his hand on the latch and pushed the door open.

Something’s very wrong, he thought as he surveyed the empty room.

*****

“Daniel!” Eric called to the senior’s acolyte. “Where’s Cameron?” he asked, when the two were close.

“Sent away to further his training,” Daniel replied. “The senior will announce…Ah, he’s about to speak.”

The two hastened to their places at the table.

“Some of you have noticed that Acolyte Cameron is not at breakfast. He has been sent to new teachers to further his training. He asked me to express his goodbyes to all of you, and his regret that he could not say them in person.” The senior sat, and began his meal, leaving Eric in stunned silence. No message for me? The senior would have…or Daniel would have…But why?

The senior ate silently, but his mind was churning. I’ve lied to Daniel, and I’ve lied to Eric. Not directly, but by not telling the whole truth. This is, indeed, a sad business, and no good can come of it.

*****

“Bundled off with a band of soldiers before breakfast, even. Don’t know what he did, but it can’t be good.”

“No, he wasn’t in chains, but there were soldiers all around, and one holding the lead to his horse.”

“No, I’ve no idea where they were going.”

“It looked as if his hands were bound.”

“They didn’t know where they were going…just to a new posting.”

“No, no one knows for how long.”

Eric gleaned every bit of gossip, and pondered it carefully. It doesn’t make sense! He thought. I should go to the senior…or the centurion…and demand an answer! The boy paused. No, I cannot. I can be either Squire Eric or Prince Eric. If I want to be Squire Eric, and treated as the other boys, then I cannot be a prince even long enough to demand answers. Shit!

*****

“That’s it,” the soldier encouraged Cameron, “move with the horse. You’re going to be sore, anyway, but if you fight the movement, you’ll be sore and tired.” The young soldier who had led Cameron’s horse had, as he’d promised, shown Cameron how to ride.

He attached a lead to the horse’s bridle. “This is just in case,” he said. Then he gave Cameron the reins. “See, the horse doesn’t want to feel the reins on his cheek. So, if you lay the right rein across his cheek, he’ll turn right. Just be sure to release the pressure after he turns, or he’ll take you in circles.”

By the end of the day, Cameron was riding without the lead, although the soldier still kept a close eye on him.

When they arrived at the first waystation, an Army post, the young soldier helped Cam settle the horse in the stable. The others had finished their tasks more quickly, and had gone to the bath.

“I’m sorry, I’m slowing you in your tasks,” Cameron said. “You should go with your companions. I’ll be all right, I think.”

The soldier took the currycomb from Cameron and brushed the horse’s withers. “Like this,” he said, giving the comb back to Cameron. “My mother’s name for me is Jer,” he said, touching the back of Cameron’s hand.

“My mother’s name for me is Cameron,” that boy replied. “Thank you for your kindness, Jer. Um…would you share with me tonight?”

*****

The trip seemed shorter with Jer as a friend. After a bit more than a tenday, they arrived at the mountain fortress above the village called Myre. Jer took the reins of the horse. “I’ll take her to the stables,” he said. “And come back tomorrow for the saddlebags. It looks like our barracks are not far from the temple. Perhaps we can see each other sometimes?”

“I’d like that,” Cameron said. “As soon as I learn what’s going on…”

*****

The senior read the letter from Elvenhold. Putting it on the altar, he looked at Cameron. “You have seen the future?”

“Only a little, and only once. I saw a friend as he would be when he became a man.”

“Do you know what you saw to be true?”

Cameron paused to collect his thoughts. “The senior told me that I’d seen only one possible future. I also saw the boy’s past, and I knew—I knew as surely as I know my name—that what I saw in the past was true.”

“Your senior told you the most important thing—the future you saw was a possibility, only. Never forget that. I have some abilities and knowledge of scrying; I will train you, as your senior requested.

“Your senior has also asked me to ensure you continue the translation of a book he sent with you. May I see it?”

Cameron dug into his baldric and brought out The Book of Heroes. The senior opened it, and glanced at a few pages. “A book of stories? Shouldn’t you be learning spells? Healing? Swordsmanship?”

“I have been studying herbs, anatomy, and chemistry, Senior. And I’m a good second level in sword and third in quarterstaff. I’m a good archer, too. That is, I was before I entered the temple School. I’ve not practiced much since then. One of the soldiers showed me a lot about horses during the trip here. I would like to continue all my studies.”

Until I figure a way to get back to Eric, anyway, Cameron thought to himself.

Aloud, he continued. “My senior felt I could learn Old Elvish for spells better if I learned it through the stories in the book.”

“Hmmm, that’s what he says in the letter. I don’t understand, but of course, I will obey.” Cameron stood silently while the man thought for a while. “Very well. You’ll train with the soldiers.”

Seeing the puzzlement on Cameron’s face, he added. “This temple is small. We have no Arms Master. Probationer Achates trains with the soldiers. He will be your host. Brother Habard is an exceptional herbalist, although he’s at something of a disadvantage—little grows among the rocks of the mountains. He visits the farms and forests of the foothills often, however. You will study healing with him. I suppose I’m the best linguist, so I will oversee your translation and language studies. The senior’s letter does not say you are not to learn spells; however, his intent isn’t clear. You will attend when I teach ritual and spells; however, you will not be expected to perform or participate, yet.”

The senior pulled a bell-rope. “This is Achates,” he said when a boy entered. “Achates, know you Acolyte Cameron newly from Elvenhold. You will be his host. His training begins tomorrow. He will accompany you to arms training. Make him welcome.”

Turning back to Cameron, the senior added, “Be you welcome, Cameron, and be you blessed in your time with us.”

The senior’s words were a clear dismissal.

Cameron stood outside the senior’s study as Achates closed the door. Achates stood on his toes and lightly kissed Cameron’s cheek. “Be you welcome to the temple at Myre, Cameron. I would add a blessing but I’m not able to do that yet. Can you do a blessing? Perhaps you’d help me learn,” he continued, when Cameron nodded. “Come on…” the boy urged, tugging on Cameron’s hand.

*****

Cameron knew that messages passed between temples, and was resolved to send a message to Eric. He agonized over what he would say, what he could say after having left so abruptly. After several false starts, he was able to compose a letter. The letter could not contain all that was in his heart, but it did, at least, say what needed to be said.

*****

Cameron was pleased when he learned that Jer, the young soldier who had befriended him during the journey from Elvenhold to Myre, was close to Cameron in proficiency. The commander of the garrison, a decurion despite the compliment of 25 soldiers, was likewise pleased that his new legionnaire would have someone his own age with whom to practice. “At one time,” the Decurion said, “Myre was an important border post. This garrison would have held two companies of legionnaires, and there’d have been another four at the garrison in the valley, yonder.” He indicated the valley through which Cameron and Jer had ridden en route to Myre.

*****

Despite the senior’s initial misgivings, he became engrossed in The Book of Heroes, and found himself eagerly awaiting each of Cameron’s translations. The boy would bring a stack of foolscap on which he’d written the translation, as well as a list of questions. Cameron would read the translation while the senior followed in the book, interrupting when he found a mistake.

“Do I remember your telling me that this book was written by a human in the south of Arcadia?” the senior asked.

“That is what the inscription inside the cover says,” Cameron answered.

“Why do you suppose he wrote in Old Elvish?” the senior mused.

The question was meant to be rhetorical, but Cameron was quick with an answer. “I believe he wrote in Old Elvish because there are so many references to magic and spells. Neither our modern tongue, nor the Arcadian language has the proper words easily and accurately to describe magic and spells. See, here, I’ve had to write nearly a paragraph to explain these three words.” Cameron passed a page to the senior.

The senior reviewed what Cameron had written. “Your senior’s wisdom in assigning this project to you is becoming clear. You are right, of course. Traditionally, Old Elvish is the language of magic and spells. But it is more than tradition. It is also because of its structure and vocabulary, and because of the rigid precision of its pronunciation. Cameron, you’ve discovered for yourself something clerics decades your senior have never grasped!”

Cameron blushed. “Thank you, Senior, but I cannot claim credit. That belongs to my teachers.”

*****

The cleric who brought the bundle of messages to the palace in Elvenhold reported to the senior. This, in itself, was unusual. Messages were usually dealt with by mid-level clerics who had found their place as bureaucrats. The senior took the messages from the stack one by one, and looked closely at each. About halfway through the pile, he removed one letter and set it aside. After completing his inspection, he put the remainder back into the pouch and handed it to the messenger.

“Thank you. You may take these to Brother Darns, please. Be sure to let me review all messages you receive before you leave the palace,” the senior instructed, dismissing the messenger.

*****

“My Lord, this message came from Myre, addressed to Squire Eric,” the senior said as he handed the sealed letter to the seneschal.

“Thank you, my Lord,” the seneschal replied.

*****

I do not know why I was ordered to leave so quickly. Perhaps it was because the soldiers were ready to leave and they could not be delayed. In any case, I hope that Daniel or the senior gave you my farewell. I do not know how long I will be here, but I am studying as hard as I can. Perhaps when I learn to control my magic I’ll be allowed to return to you.

“Destroy this,” the king ordered as he returned the letter to the seneschal.

The seneschal bowed in acknowledgement.

*****

“Your Highness, I am in your debt, but I am your Royal Uncle’s servant. He ordered me to destroy the letter.”

“And so you shall,” Eric said, “but not until I’ve read it. Did he say I couldn’t read it?”

“No, Your Highness, but…” the seneschal began.

“Then let me read it,” Eric demanded.

*****

He’s in Myre, Eric thought. To further his studies. I hope he believes that, and doesn’t realize the perfidy of my uncle and his senior. I love and honor my uncle; he is my liege and my mother’s brother. But I don’t like what he’s done. Hmmm. Exactly what oaths have I sworn? What orders am I under?

After some hours of thinking, Eric realized something. I’ve always been a toward boy. My father didn’t order me to come here. He only said that I’d be coming here. And he didn’t say I had to stay!

Translators’ Notes

An “errant” as used here refers to a wandering cleric who lives by begging and offering services including healing to the farms and villages to which he travels. These clerics are important sources of news.

The “altar” of the senior at Myre was a workbench in which magic is stored. We translate the work to “altar” to distinguish it from a mage’s workbench.

Achates is pronounced (ah SHA taaze). The name means “good friend.”

A “blessing” is a magical spell designed to imbue the receiver with energy and a general feeling of well-being. It has no religious significance.