Alunadai, Week 15 – 15th Macial, 15th Macis 1209
Ceardlann
CEARDLANN WAS A HOUSE OF STORIES speaking of lost rooms and secret areas, of magic and mundanity, of the everyday and the unexpected, of the future and the past. Entering any room for the first time, Cal thought what a strange place the house was. He expected it to be grander, but the pleasantly proportioned rooms were never too vast, their ceilings never too high. There was no lavish display of gold and silver, no unnecessary embellishment, but there were the finest of glass drinking vessels from Denshire, the most delicate pottery from Terasia, the best quality cloth from Lufian. Together everything gave off an air of tasteful wealth, of muted, refined opulence: craftsmen had excelled themselves to build and furnish this retreat. It was the home of a respectable man, but undoubtedly a rich one. In his father’s mind, riches and respectability were opposites, and Cal had never considered they could occur together.
* * *
A week after arriving, a hand shook Cal’s shoulder and he pulled himself out of sleep reluctantly.
“Come on, get up,” said Tain, grinning. “I want to get outside before anyone can stop us.”
Cal pushed himself up. It was barely light. “What about breakfast, sir?”
“We’ll sneak something from the kitchen.”
“Shouldn’t we tell—?”
“Yes, but if we do that, we’ll be caught with lessons.”
They entered the kitchen to be met with, “Are you giving Maria the slip, sir?”
“What gave you that idea, Cook?” enquired Tain innocently.
“Experience. Where are you off to? And don’t think about telling me a lie or I’ll get the whole of the guards out hunting for you,” threatened Cook, waving a wooden spoon at them menacingly.
Tain beamed. “Down to the Great Meadow. I want to show Cal the Wishing Tree.”
“Right. Will you be here for breakfast? Or are you trying to avoid your lessons again?” When Tain swallowed, Cook added sagely, “You’re avoiding your lessons. One of these days, your father will notice.”
Tain shrugged. “He’s too busy to. I just don’t feel in the mood for them.”
Cook’s eyes narrowed. “Hmm. So, what do you want for this picnic?”
Tain’s grin brightened. “What have you got?”
They ended up with pastries, apples, a skin of water and a bag for it all before Cook returned to his normal grumpy demeanour.
“That’s it. Out you go. I’ve got breakfast to prepare for the FitzAlcis.”
Tain chuckled. “Thanks, Cook.”
As they reached the Great Meadow beside the River Encil, Tain pointed. “That’s the Wishing Tree. People get married here, or wish for luck and happiness, that sort of thing.”
The early morning mists gave the oak an ethereal quality, with its canopy above the swirling vapours. It was the tree Cal had seen when entering the valley.
“Isn’t there an alcium here then?” asked Cal.
“No. Valley inhabitants have this instead. Or Welcome Field at the south of the valley. I love this meadow. In summer, you can almost hide in the grass. Come on. Let’s have breakfast. I’m hungry.”
They sat with their backs against the tree. After a few minutes of munching silence, homesickness washed over Cal. He blinked hard.
Tain said, “You know, it’s not that bad.”
“I know, sir. I just miss my ma.”
Tain swallowed. “Me too.”
Cal cursed himself. “I’m sorry, Your Highness.”
“Don’t be. We used to come here with her when father was out of Oedran. We’d bring a picnic and just run about.” He paused, swallowing back his tears. “You can go home, if you want, you know.”
Cal hesitated. “I know, sir, but it’s not that. I… I don’t know. At least here no-one is giving me chores to do. I don’t miss those. My home is so noisy as well and Ceardlann isn’t.”
“We can change that,” replied Tain with a grin. “I’m sure we can liven it up a bit.”
Cal knew he shouldn’t disagree with Tain. “Do you mind if we don’t, sir? I mean… well, I don’t want to get into trouble. Your… His Majesty’s been so kind to me.”
“He mightn’t find out,” pointed out Tain. “He’s so busy still.”
“I’m… I’d rather not, sir, that’s all.”
Tain sighed. “Fine, but we can still have fun.” He bit his lip. “I wish he wasn’t busy. We don’t get to see him much anymore.”
“I don’t get to see my pa much. He’s always in the shop and, unless he wants us to help with something, we’re kept out of the way, Your Highness.”
“Oh. So, can you swim?”
“Never tried, sir,” replied Cal.
“I’ll have to teach you. Though I guess it’ll be too cold so they’ll stop us for now. Oh well, I’ll have to teach you to ride properly instead.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“You don’t have to keep calling me ‘sir’,” said Tain.
Cal hesitated. “I’d rather not stop, Your Highness.”
“Or Your Highness, for that matter,” grouched Tain. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”
“I hope so, sir, but I think I should use it, for now at least. I don’t want His Majesty to think I’ve forgotten myself.”
“Fine. So, what do you think of Ceardlann?”
Cal considered. “It’s smaller than I thought it would be. I mean, I thought it would be like the Palace… but it’s nothing like as grand. I like it. Is Cook always so blunt with you though? I didn’t think it was right.”
Tain grinned. “No, it’s not, but Ceardlann’s home, whereas the Palace is where we live in Oedran. That’s what father says, anyway. I’m glad you like it. Cook is Cook. Nothing changes him and we need to eat.”
They were talking about heading to Ceardlann for lunch when Arkyn rode into the meadow. He dismounted, took off a laden saddlebag and left Ponder to roam.
“You know, sooner or later, you’ll have to stop skipping lessons.”
Tain grinned. “How are yours going with Advisor Spellen?”
Arkyn chuckled. “Apparently as well as yours with Ewall. Here, I persuaded Cook that you’d need something for lunch.”
Tain and Cal grinned, unpacking their second picnic of the day.
“Father expects us there for dinner.”
“You told him?” asked Tain, outraged.
“No, but I said I was going out for a ride and he saw the saddlebags.”
Tain groaned. “There goes our freedom.”
Arkyn shrugged. “I wouldn’t be so sure, little brother. He didn’t say I had to return to my lessons.”
* * *
Scruffy and unkempt, they reached Ceardlann an hour before dinner. Maria stood Tain and Cal in front of her, trying to keep a straight face.
“You can face His Majesty like that. He wants to see you two in the study,” she informed them, hands on hips.
Tain bit his lip. “Is he very annoyed with us?”
“Go and find out.”
Adeone watched the two nervous boys enter and had to stop himself laughing. They’d plainly been playing at the water’s edge, for their legs were covered in mud, the grime of which had made it to their faces.
In a sterner voice than the situation truly warranted, he said, “Where were you?”
Tain swallowed. “In the Great Meadow, sir. We were… We lost track of time.”
“Tain Lachlan FitzAlcis, I don’t believe that. Your stomach would have reminded you, for a start.”
“We didn’t mean to be so long, father, honestly…”
Adeone crooked an eyebrow. “Honestly is normally used when bending the truth. Do you have anything to say for yourself, Master Calumiel?”
In a small voice, Cal said, “No, sir. That is, I am sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble when I suggested we went.”
Tain stilled.
Adeone regarded both boys. “Hmm. Are you saying this was your idea, Cal Galdwin?”
“I guess so, Your Majesty. I’m truly sorry, sir.”
“Go and get a bath, Tain; I want to see you presentable at dinner. Go on. I want to talk to Master Calumiel alone.”
Tain opened and shut his mouth but reacted to the glare his father was giving him and left the room.
“Master Calumiel, what you did is called lying to your king and it’s not acceptable,” said Adeone.
Cal examined the floor: wide polished floorboards, swept clean.
The King’s voice softened. “Apart from that, let him take his fair share of the blame. You are not here so he can do as he likes and get away with it. I wouldn’t be doing either of you any favours if I let that happen. I respect what you were trying to do, but you don’t have to do it.”
Cal’s gaze shot up.
Adeone smiled warmly. “Come and sit down. I’m trying to say you don’t have to take the blame for my son. I guess the documents that the Steward sent you – which you seem to have read in detail – outlined that a prince can never be wrong and must always win, yes?”
“Yes, Sire, and that I should do as he wishes,” admitted Cal.
‘No wonder history is littered with idiots in my family,’ thought Adeone. “How very correct at Court. This isn’t Court. So, Cal Galdwin, I’d like you to make me a promise if you think it appropriate: you will not treat my sons any differently to any other friend you might have – Arkyn as well as Tain – that you will let them take the blame when it’s their fault and that you will teach them how to lose and be wrong.”
Cal swallowed. “What if Their Highnesses don’t like it?”
“Then they’re not who I thought they were,” revealed Adeone. “You don’t have to tell them about it if you don’t want to.”
Cal considered for a short time. “I’ll do my best, sir.”
“Thank you.” Adeone chuckled. “Now, what were you and Tain doing to get so muddy?”
Cal laughed. “I don’t know, sir. We were trying to catch fish at one point and then I tried to show him how to climb trees, but there’s no good holds on the Wishing Tree and we couldn’t catch Ponder and it just happened.”
“I wish I could have joined you. Sounds much more enjoyable than my day has been. Go on. See if Maria can’t help scrub you clean.”
Cal was quickly getting dressed when Tain found him and sat on the bed, saying, “Did you get into a lot of trouble?”
“No. His Majesty was all right about it really.”
“He didn’t let me explain. I’m sorry, I should have taken the blame. It was my fault. I’ll tell him the truth when I can, I promise.”
Cal grinned. Suddenly, he felt better about things. “Can’t have that, Your Highness. A prince can’t take the blame…”
“This one can when it’s my fault,” admitted Tain. “Otherwise, it’s not fair when it really is yours.”
Cal chuckled. “So, tomorrow – any ideas?”