When the driver asks me how far I want to go, I just shrug. “Not far,” I say. He gives me a dubious glance and takes just enough of my money to get to Arusal, the first village outside my father’s city. I thank him and get off. I want to find a seat next to someone who doesn’t want to ask nosy questions about where I’m headed. Not that it really matters, of course: I probably won’t get farther than the city gates before my father’s men catch up with us. Still, if I’m lucky, I’ll get at least a glimpse of the outside world before Telar and co. arrive. Telar will probably be furious – if he comes. I tried to time my adventure on Desan, half-day, so that I at least have a 50-50 chance of getting someone more lenient. As I slip some money to a man with a half-empty cart, I wince at the memory of the punishment I got last time, when Telar was in the group. I really don’t want Telar to be leading the guards! Not that Telar actually struck me, or anything, although my father would probably have let him. The whole episode was about a month ago, on a day I was supposed to go with my father to another peasant-relief day. Having done more than enough of these sessions in my thirteen years, I bribed a young page who was about my size to change clothes with me, and snuck out of the castle for the best four hours of my life. It took me less than an hour to walk into the center of the city, where the two biggest markets were. The walk was pleasant, without anyone to prod me to do some duty or other, and even better, no one seemed to recognize me as a noble. There were a few coins in my well-worn pocket: the hoardings of the page-boy. I spent them carefully on fresh bread rolls with spicy meat sauces and small, sweet candies. The vendors were friendly but not inquisitive, and I had the time of my life, swooping around, chatting, joking and snitching tastes of various wares. After perhaps three hours I’d settled down somewhat, and was about to half a last stuffed bread roll with an elderly beggar when I heard orderly footsteps and glanced up. The second my eye fell on their black uniforms and gold collars, I knew they were two of my father’s personal guards – not the ones who regularly patrolled the city, but the ones who guarded our castle. I thrust the bread into the beggar’s hands and took off down the alley, hoping for another fifteen minutes of freedom before facing my father’s wrath. They saw me at once, but they paused to signal to someone out of my sight before giving chase, so I had a head-start. Unfortunately, as I reached the mouth of the next alley, I saw an officer of the guards striding briskly down it. I turned to continue straight, but a pair of guards on sleek, black ponies pulled up, effectively blocking my path. I had three choices: two guards on ponies, two guards running for me, and one guard walking. I chose the single guard, and ran with all my might. Even as I tore past him, I knew that it was useless. Still, I couldn’t give up without a struggle, so when his hand clamped on my arm, I let my momentum swing me around and slammed my elbow into his eye. He reared back but grimly hung on long enough for the two men on foot to come pounding up and seize me. I gave up fighting physically then, and let them march me where they had left their horses without resisting, but I called up the biggest cloud I could find and dropped hailstones and heavy rain onto all of our heads. The problem with that idea was that the hailstones hurt me, too, and the soldiers made no response to the hailstones except to wince when they were struck. There was a minor argument where one of the men tried to convince Telar to let his horse walk home and hold something on his eye, but Telar silenced him effectively and trotted sourly beside me the whole ride home. I have never been the most brilliant horseman, and by the time we reined in at the castle, I was pretty sore. I barely had time to stretch, however, before Telar gripped my elbow and brought me, both of us still damp from my rain, before my father. My father was absolutely furious. He had had to go to the relief day by himself, and since he lacks any power whatsoever to control the weather, the peasants were not particularly grateful. In fact, one had bowed respectfully and asked, most politely, why his Lordship had bothered to come, seeing that he was totally useless without his son? My father imparted this comment to me, along with several choice comments of his own on my usual habits, general worth and precisely what was going to happen to me. There were no mirrors present at the meeting, but I believe my overall demeanor by the time he had finished was rather dejected. This, possibly, or some extremely strict code in which he could not strike anyone of higher birth than himself, is the only reason I can conceive of by which Telar, when permitted by my father to punish me in whatever manner he saw fit, refrained from thoroughly pulverizing me. Instead, he waited until I had sat through the myriad of boring business meetings that were my father’s punishment before handing me a list of what was surely a lifetime of chores. It took me two weeks to complete them all, and several sessions of humiliation: for example, the time when I was required to muck out the entire upper stables, habited by a dozen thoroughbred horses, a task that usually was completed by three stable-boys. It took me six hours, and the whole time, any stable boys with free time sat there grinning and watched me. Even worse, I had never done anything of the sort in my life, and had to swallow my pride several times and ask the stable boys what to do and how. When the chores were finally done, I was sure I was scarred forever. I did, however, learn how to do more menial tasks than I’d ever hoped to learn.
The driver shouts impatiently, and I climb onto the empty seat thoughtfully. Perhaps, in the long run, not getting out of the city will anger my father less. At any rate, I won’t try to fight anyone – not that I could actually hurt them. I think I only managed to clip Telar because he wasn’t expecting me to fight physically – one of the perks of being a little short for your age, rather thin and the son of a lord. Anyway, I doubt they’ll use anything quite so starkly public as guards this time. They’ll probably go for something subtle that works about twice as effectively as I’d like. For some reason, the scenery seems awfully familiar. I glance up, and feel some misgiving when I see the castle close ahead. I’d forgotten that this carttrain goes past the castle on its way out of the city. My nerves are already on edge, so when the man next to me, heretofore silent, stands up and waves to the driver that he wants to disembark, I jerk wildly and have to cover it by jumping down to let him get off. As he brushes past me, he reaches up and – to my dismay – yanks off his false beard to reveal Telar’s face, looking even grimmer than usual. My jaw drops in shock, but before I can do any of the things that flick through my mind (run, shout, call up a storm, try to bribe him) he drops his arm heavily across my shoulders as if I were a relative of his. For a moment I’m taken aback, since I would have thought that his code would forbid such casual behavior with nobility, but I figure he’s made an exception for me. Lots of people seem to do this. Without saying a word, he begins to walk me away, and I don’t resist. Once I go through my options again, none of them seems quite as useful as I’d originally anticipated. In fact, only one seems at all practical, and that is to walk along with him to the castle and try not to annoy him, since he obviously is making exceptions for me from his code. Suddenly a laugh tries to escape me. A picture of what my crestfallen face must have looked like when Telar pulled off that beard floats in front of me. I clamp my lips together, but a giggle spills out. Telar says nothing, only glances at me, but it’s enough to sober me up. As soon as we get through the gates, Telar removes his arm and puts a firm hand on my shoulder. Guessing that no more exceptions to his code will be made, I distract myself from the coming unpleasantness by copying his precise walk and grim expression. In silence, we walk to my father’s hall. Two guards slam the door behind us and follow us over to my father, who is pacing by a window. At first, he says nothing, though I guess this is not from lack of will but from inability to speak through the intensity of his anger. The silence stretches for several minutes, and his face grows so purple I worry he may explode. Suddenly he lets out his breath, looking so deflated that I try to stutter another apology. He shakes his head and strides past me, pausing only to say; “Telar will teach you sword-fighting. Sixth hour of the morning, as often as he likes.” And he is gone, with Telar after him. I look apprehensively at the guards. They avoid my glance and escort me to my rooms. At least, I think, I will learn how to swordfight. If I don’t die before I do.