Chapter 6
Confused by the kindness in his mentor’s voice, Ren sat next to him at the rough wooden table.
The silence stretched out uncomfortably until Brenin finally broke it. “Did you think I’d hit you?”
Ren flinched, but laughed off the question. “Of course not. I just…it’s a reflex for me now. You know, lots of sparring.”
“But you did think I’d come here to get drunk.”
The boy’s face turned red again and he looked down at his feet. “I’m sorry. I should have known better-”
“Don’t. Don’t apologize to me. It isn’t right.” Brenin pushed his mug aside with a restless hand. “Boy, it’s time we had a real talk about everything that happened back then.”
“Brenin, it’s in the past,” Ren interrupted. “I’ve already forgiven you. Why should we-”
“Don’t interrupt,” Brenin said, a little sharply. “I need you to listen for a change. You always do this kind of thing, with me and with the girl. You always put yourself last. You put yourself in danger, and you let yourself get hurt.”
“What do you want from me, Brenin? This is who I am.”
“It shouldn’t be!” Brenin’s voice rose. “It’s not your job. What has that girl ever given you that you should be so loyal to her?”
“Don’t try to tell me who I should be loyal to, Brenin,” Ren said hotly. “I care for Kathryn.”
“You care for everyone except yourself. You cared for me too, even when I was at my worst. That’s why I had to leave.”
Ren stared at him blankly. “You left…because I cared about you?”
“No. No, that wasn’t what I meant.” Brenin rubbed his forehead with a weary expression on his face. “It wasn’t your fault I left. Not in the slightest. I wasn’t in the right place back then, and I didn’t want you to have to keep looking after me. You were only a kid.”
“That was a silly reason to leave,” Ren snapped. “I never minded taking care of you. I understood you were hurting; I never blamed you-”
“You should have!”
“And you should have stayed! You’re well now; we could have gotten you well together without missing five years!”
“It was never your responsibility to make me well!” Brenin seized him by the shoulders so he could look directly into Ren’s pale, confused blue eyes. “You were the child. I was supposed to be looking after you. I know I shouldn’t have left. I should have been strong enough to take care of my problem and act like a father to you. But I wasn’t strong enough, and there are days I’m still not sure I am. It’s why I left and why I stayed away, not because there was anything wrong with you, but because there was everything wrong with me, and I had to stop putting that on you.” Brenin stood up abruptly. “I came back because you were in danger and hurting. But I can’t see you go to Tephraya and get yourself killed.”
As Brenin turned to go, Ren grabbed his arm.
“Stay,” he said.
“Ren…”
“Don’t leave again, Brenin. That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it? Please. There’s a good reason for us to go to Tephraya. I promise you, there’s a reason, and it’s not just for power or prestige. I know you don’t agree with us going, but I want you with us. I want you with me. Please, don’t leave me again.”
Ren’s voice was pitiful, and as Brenin looked at him, it was like he was being transported back in time to when Ren first threw his arms around him and begged him to be well. He certainly didn’t have the heart to refuse that look.
He said gruffly, “All right, all right, boy. Enough of that. I’ll stay.”
Ren’s face lit up.
Brenin continued in a stern voice, “But you need to promise me one thing. Promise me you’ll at least try to keep yourself safe, and you won’t take any unnecessary risks.”
“I promise. After all, I can’t protect Kathryn if I get hurt, can I?” Ren replied cheerfully.
A shadow crossed Brenin’s face, but he nodded. “That’s right. Well, let’s go back to the cottage. We’ve got to start training.”
Ren raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to train me?”
“Someone has to make sure you’re in top form when you face those monsters. Might as well be me.”
The younger man grinned widely. “All right,” was all he said. The two of them headed back to the cottage in a companionable silence. Brenin had no such grace for Kathryn. From that moment, he spoke hardly two words to her, and it was plain that the resentment he felt for her wasn’t going to disappear any time soon.
Ren had been healing for over a month now, though heavy training had somewhat slowed down the process. Calix was fully accustomed to having companions now. After his conversation with Kathryn, he had begun to sleep better at night. The heavy dark circles were gone from under his eyes, and he was obsessing less over his poisons.
That didn’t stop him from gifting Kathryn with a book containing information on all of the main poisons and cures Tephraya had to offer. He told her seriously, “You never know when you might n-need it.”
On the day Kathryn, Chance, Ren, and Brenin were to leave for Tephraya, as they saddled their horses, the sun had barely risen. It was fairly chilly out, but Kathryn was warm, thanks to the clothes Calix had made for her. She smiled at him and took his hand. “Thank you. Be well while we are gone, Cal. Eat properly, and think of us occasionally, will you?”
Brenin only gave the boy a friendly pat on the shoulder. No words passed between them, but Cal understood it was a thank you.
The boy felt a lump in his throat and the unusual sensation that he was going to miss them. Sure, they had been troublesome, but he was no longer accustomed to loneliness. In just a few weeks, they had taken that away from him.
Chance broke the silence by saying cheerfully, “Don’t look too sad, Cal. You knew these lovebirds would want their privacy sooner or later, didn’t you?”
Ren punched the man lightly in the ribs. “Ow! What was that for?” Chance demanded.
“Just ‘cause you’re you,” Ren replied easily. Kathryn reflected that his grammar had worsened over the weeks being here, as if being surrounded by country folk was what he’d been waiting for all this time. He then turned and grabbed Cal in a massive bear hug.
Cal’s feet kicked helplessly and his eyes bugged out before Ren set him down. The boy drew a deep breath and said hoarsely, “Y-you oaf, what’re you-”
“Thanks for all you’ve done for us,” Ren told him sincerely. “I mean it. Giving us a place to stay, and helping me heal and all…I won’t forget. If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to call on us.”
Cal frowned, but he couldn’t maintain the grumpy look, and an actual smile broke through. “No, you call on me if you need anything,” he said earnestly. “Knowing the sort of trouble you all g-get into, you’ll need a healer again soon enough.”
Chance snickered as Ren said in a mock-offended tone, “What trouble? I’m just planning to take on some of the toughest brutes in the three kingdoms. Oughta be a piece of cake.”
Calix looked troubled, and Kathryn felt a sense of guilt stir within her, but Chance said, “Let’s not drag out the farewells. See you, Cal.” He rumpled the boy’s hair, turned, and strode away. Kathryn and Ren, taken by surprise, had to half-run to catch up. Brenin was already sitting astride his horse, and he simply raised his hand in farewell to Calix.
When she mounted, Kathryn turned back once more to wave, and she thought that the boy looked very small at a distance as he waved in return.
“Goodbye, Cal,” she said softly.
And Cal said under his breath, “Good luck, Princess Kathryn.”
Chance was constantly whistling as the small party traveled west towards the desert land called Tephraya. Or at least, he whistled until Brenin threatened to end his existence if he didn’t stop making that terrible shrilling sound.
At first, the way was very green, as they were still close to Iridalys. At night, they had to light a fire to keep the animals at bay. Ren and Chance bantered constantly, and Kathryn had the feeling that it was Ren’s way of trying to ease his own nervousness that he would never admit. Brenin was even more quiet than usual, and Chance often caught him watching Ren with a worried expression.
The journey would take a full two weeks at their current pace, and Kathryn was already finding it exhausting. But nonetheless, she helped cook and clean up the camp without any complaints. Chance, of course, helped as little as possible and had to be blackmailed into cleaning up.
He also seemed to have a peculiar pleasure in stirring things up between Kathryn and Ren. When it was his turn to set up camp, he creatively placed their bedrolls next to each other and put rose petals on top. Which Kathryn promptly shook off into the dirt, of course. Ren was starting to enjoy seeing her put a bit off-balance by the constant teasing.
On the third day, the trees were beginning to disappear in favor of shorter shrubs and even the occasional needle cactus. Chance told them, “We’re nearly at the border of Tephraya. We should be careful. Marauders often hang around the border to attack traders.”
“A few marauders won’t be a problem,” Ren said dismissively.
Chance raised an eyebrow. “Maybe not for you, but I’m not arrow-proof, Ren. Anyway, there are other things to worry about too. There are poisonous snakes. You’ll have to watch out for sand cobras. And we’ll have to go strictly by the map if we don’t want to run out of water, but each well could have marauders or soldiers waiting.”
“Why would the soldiers bother us?” Ren questioned.
Chance opened his mouth to reply, but Kathryn beat him to it. “Tephrayan soldiers are a bit famous for abusing their authority, Ren. We’ll want to avoid them if we can so there isn’t any trouble. We should also be careful that we avoid any fighting between the rebels and the king’s forces.”
“Right,” Chance agreed. “The rebel fighting must be pretty bad if it made them change the date for a major tradition like the Contest of Champions.”
“What’s the point of it anyway? Why is the king so happy about the idea of giving away land and a title?” the young bodyguard grumbled.
Kathryn explained, “It’s because he wants strong warriors to settle in his kingdom. It’s a brilliant strategy, actually. When I heard of it, I thought we should have something similar in Iridalys, though not quite as brutal, but Illian was against it. And father listened to him, of course.”
Her tone was bitter, and Chance glanced over at her with interest. She almost never talked about her brother.
Chance remarked, “It’s funny how both you and Illian seem to believe you weren’t loved or heeded by your father. Yet you both insist that the other was his favorite. How do you explain that kind of conundrum, miss Kathryn?”
Kathryn hesitated. She didn’t really understand it herself. In her mind, Illian was certainly better liked and respected by her father. But she knew he felt the same way about her. Finally she said, “It was my father who ordered myself and Ren arrested. I don’t believe he cared for either of us.”
That night, Kathryn sat by the fire, warming her hands, as the nights were still surprisingly cold. Ren sat next to her. “It’s cold tonight, ain’t it,” he said reflectively.
Kathryn bit her lip to refrain from correcting his grammar, and she reflected that his stay in the little village hadn’t done his speech any favors. But she only said, “It certainly is.” She was quiet for a moment. Then she asked in a very low voice, so low he could barely hear her, “Do you resent me, Ren?”
Ren hastily took her hand. “No, not a bit! You know me, Kat. I always love a good fight,” he said cheerfully. But the words sounded hollow.
Kathryn looked up at him, feeling a lump rise in her throat. Her heart was beating fast for some reason, but she ignored it and said, “I’m always asking so much of you when I have so little to offer you.”
Ren hesitated. He looked into the fire again and said, “But it’s always been my job, Kat. If you ask me to fight, I’ll fight for you. If you ask me to go across the world with you, I’ll go.”
He put an arm around her shoulders and she leaned her head against him. They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, until Ren broke it by saying, “But I do want to ask, Kat. Why is this so important to you now? I mean, I know you want to protect Iridalys, and I get that. It just seems like an awful lot to risk. Is power really that important?”
Kathryn felt like the smoke from the fire was gathering around her, blurring her vision just a little. She rubbed her stinging eyes and shifted, pulling away from him a little. “Yes,” she said. “It’s that important.” How could she explain it to him? Ren hated politics. He didn’t understand how many of the Iridalys citizens had died of starvation or crumbled under the weight of an unending war. He didn’t know Illian the way she did; he couldn’t understand.
Ren almost seemed to read her mind. “I’m not like you, Kat. I haven’t read a lot of books about the history of the world, and I don’t know anything about politics. But why’s it so wrong for you to just be a normal person?”
“If you’re in a position like mine, you don’t have the right,” Kathryn said firmly. The glow from the fire was more foreboding than warm, she felt. “You and I were born nobles. It’s our responsibility to use that privilege and wealth and power. We don’t get to just abandon it for our own wants. I was made for a purpose.”
Ren looked disconcerted for some reason. He also pulled away. Soon after, Kathryn and Ren went to their respective bedrolls in silence. Unbeknownst to her, the girl’s words had stirred some very unpleasant memories in Ren. And as much as he shut his eyes against them, they refused to leave.
10 years ago…
“You’re a nobleman, so act like it!” Ren’s older brother, Dorian, probably knew his words were falling on deaf ears. Ren was busy hacking away at a training post, yelling loudly at every strike. Dorian grabbed his arm and jerked him away from it roughly. Despite being nearly four years older, he was only an inch taller, and Ren was stronger. But that didn’t stop Dorian from striking the younger boy across the face. “How dare you embarrass us,” he seethed. “The Patricks used to be a respected family until you came along. What good are you? You’re a waste of space.”
Ren didn’t hesitate. He punched Dorian in the gut, and the older boy sagged to his knees, gasping for breath. “Don’t hit me,” Ren said savagely. “I won’t let you, or that blasted tutor, or anyone else hit me anymore!”
“Ren, how could you?” Ren’s mother’s shrill voice rang out across the field, and he turned with a look on his face that was both guilty and rebellious at the same time.
“He started it,” he protested.
“He’s a scholar; you’re a warrior trainee. You should know better!” she cried.
Ren felt sad when he looked at her, though he couldn’t really explain why. At least, that feeling that squeezed at his heart must be sadness. She looked so thin and unhappy. She hardly saw him, but when she did, she only scolded him. And it was always the same: he was too unrefined, too talkative, too violent.
She helped Dorian to his feet and they both glared at Ren. He exclaimed, “Why am I always made out to be the bad one? Dorian hit me!”
“I only told him he is embarrassing us by his bad behavior!” Dorian protested. “The way he acted at the picnic was appalling. He managed to get into two different fights, and Duke Newsome’s son got a black eye.”
“Really, Ren, I don’t know what I’m going to do with you,” his mother sighed in despair. “You’re so violent I’m afraid for the children.”
“What, Rigid and Rage?” Ren called his two smaller brothers by his personal nicknames for them and waved his hand dismissively. “You know I’d never hurt ‘em; even if they scold, we get along famously.”
“Stop talking like a peasant, Ren.” His mother took him by the shoulders and looked sternly into his eyes. “I’m going to have to talk to your father about you again.”
Ren felt chilled. A talk with his father would result in being locked in his room, potentially for days, and probably a lot of yelling and a few blows besides. He lowered his eyes and toed the ground. “Don’t do that,” he protested. “I’ll be good. You don’t have to.”
“You don’t understand, Ren. I mean I’m going to ask him to send you away.”
His mother’s tone was firm, and his heart froze as he looked up with terror in his eyes. “But why? I said I’ll be good! I really will, Mama! I’ll get better; I won’t make a fuss anymore! I promise I’ll-”
“Ren, that’s enough, child.” His mother pulled him into her embrace to silence him, but he yanked away, tears welling up in his eyes.
“Why don’t you love me, Mama?” he cried. “I’m doing the best I can! I try to wear the clothes and say the right things and sit through lessons. I’m trying! What more do you want from me?”
“We want you to behave like a noble,” Dorian said loftily. “Which seems quite impossible for you. Don’t make a fuss, now; it’s all for your own good.”
“No, I won’t go! I won’t!” Ren ran away, up to his room, where he locked the door and hid under the covers. He couldn’t remember a time in his life where he’d been so unhappy and frightened. He even cried a little, hiccuping and trying to catch his breath.
At long last, he heard a firm knock on the door, and he knew instinctively it was his father. He also knew there wasn’t any point in leaving the door locked. Dragging his feet, he got up and went to open the door.
His father stood there. Ren looked up at the big man and wondered if he had ever struggled half as much as his son. The guards often talked about how Lord Patrick was a fine warrior. And Ren felt that must also mean he probably had hated books once, and maybe even gotten in the occasional fistfight. So why was it so hard to talk to him, and why didn’t he seem to understand at all? Why was his face so grim and stern?
Ren said, “I don’t want to go, sir.”
Lord Patrick replied, “You do not have a choice. Pack your things. From now on, you are going to live responsibly, as a nobleman should. You will learn how to do your duty, and you will learn what it means to be so privileged as to be born the son of a lord. If you ever learn that, you may return some day.”
Ren couldn’t reply because he was too choked up, but he was quite sure that he was never going to feel privileged about being the son of a lord. Not ever.
Present day…
The strange thing was, as the memories crowded in on him, Ren couldn’t remember his father’s face. And he couldn’t remember his mother’s face at all, or the children. That hurt a little, but not nearly as much as Kathryn’s words had.
“Why are they all so obsessed with noble ‘responsibility’?” he muttered. “What’s so great about having no say over yourself and only having to go along with what other people think is right?” Yet he could see the irony, as that was all he had been doing for the past ten years as well. Just going along. And despite his words to Kathryn, it was beginning to feel increasingly burdensome.
Still, she needed him right now. And that was enough for him. It had to be.
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