Chapter 10 Companionship

Marlena had cornered Dorgan and was demanding answers, so Randor walked over to them. "It's a simple sedative, your highness," the healer was saying as he joined them. "It won't do him any harm."

"All right, then," she said. "What now?"

"Now we keep him in bed for a few days while we try to get his blood pressure lowered. Too much activity wouldn't be good for him."

"Why hasn't this been noticed before?" Randor asked. "When was his last physical?"

Dorgan scowled. "I was actually about to come to you. He's been impossible to nail down for the last two months, and his physical is overdue."

"I wish you'd come sooner," the king said, taking off his crown and running his fingers through his hair.

"For what it's worth, so do I," Dorgan replied. "I didn't know what to think. He's never failed to show up for an appointment before, but he almost seemed to be avoiding me."

"Do you suppose he knew he was unwell and didn't want to deal with it?" Marlena asked.

"I don't know. I'm going to find a counselor for him. I don't like the sound of him drinking alone in his room. We have to find out what's eating at him."

"And he won't talk to us, or, as you said, he would have already." There was a catch in Marlena's voice as she spoke. Randor put his arm around his wife. "I wish I understood what happened. I thought he knew he could always come to us to talk."

"He wouldn't have come to me," Randor said. "I haven't been the most approachable of fathers of late."

Marlena leaned in against his side. "I'm sure he knows you love him, dear," she said.

With the looks his son had been giving him today, Randor wasn't so certain, but he didn't contradict her. "So, I take it you don't want him to have any active tasks tomorrow?"

"No. If you have something that he can do while lying in bed, I will give it a look in the morning, but nothing that involves seeing anyone outside the immediate family and nothing that requires a lot of activity."

Randor nodded and started running over his to do list in his head to come up with something suitable. There was some correspondence . . .

"Randor, don't you have a meeting with the Qadian ambassador this evening?" Marlena said suddenly

"You're right." He stepped to the counter in the room where there was a pad of paper, wrote a quick note and, opening the door, gave it to a medic to give to a servant. "That takes care of that. I'm sure Rraal will understand."

Marlena nodded and took his hand. "I'm sure he will."

"Well, I've got some more test results to look at. I'll be back in if there's anything urg –" He broke off as one of the lab techs came in. "Yes, Mira?"

"Sir, I need you to look at some of these results." She looked worried, and the way she glanced at him and Marlena made Randor very nervous.

"Of course. Please excuse me, my king, my queen." He bowed slightly and hurried out with the technician.

"Does that scare you as much as it scares me?" Marlena asked.

"I suspect so," he said, his hand tightening on hers. They turned back toward Teela, who was fussing with the blankets and trying to shift Cringer to make them lay more to her liking. Marlena released Randor's hand and went to sit beside her.

"It's all right, Teela, you don't have to worry so much."

"He needs to be comfortable," Teela said.

The queen put her arm around Teela's shoulders and pulled her close. "I know, sweetheart. I know."

They sat with him for a long while, but when Dorgan didn't come back, Randor grew concerned. Giving Marlena's shoulder a squeeze, he went out into the main room of the infirmary. The place was quiet, and Randor looked around, trying to locate Dorgan. He walked over to a medic. "Where is Healer Dorgan?" he asked.

"He's in surgery, your highness" the young man said.

"On whom?" the king asked, startled.

"One of the guards came in with a pain in his arm, and it turns out he's having some kind of serious heart problem." He tilted his head. "It's lucky for him that he came in and that Mira decided to do a scan of his arm. She caught the heart problem by accident."

"Thank you," Randor said and went back into Adam's room feeling a little chastened. He and Marlena had both assumed that Mira's news had to do with Adam, but . . . he shook his head as he went over to sit down. "Dorgan's in surgery on a member of the guard," he said. "A heart problem. I gather we're quite fortunate that Medic Mira caught it."

Marlena nodded slowly, and he could see she was making the same realization that he had. "We will have to remember to commend her for it later," she said.

Randor nodded and looked down at Adam's sleeping face. He looked so peaceful, no evidence of the distress that he'd seen so much of today. It was hard to reconcile the Adam who had attempted suicide with the young man who behaved so cavalierly about everything. Of course, if Dorgan was right, that cavalier behavior was actually a symptom of the anguish that had led him to suicide.

The door opened and he looked up to see Duncan entering. He looked as if he'd just come from a battle, and Randor rose, crossing to his side. "Is all well?"

"The fight was nothing, really. Skeletor was quickly routed. I had to speak to the Sorceress afterwards, that's what took me so long."

"I see. Is there anything I should know?"

Duncan shook his head. "How is Adam?"

"Dorgan had to sedate him. He just kept saying that we had to let him go, but it really wasn't clear where he had to go."

Duncan sighed, pursing his lips. "And Dorgan's still in surgery. Had you heard? Guardsman Ivan had a heart attack."

Randor nodded, appalled. Ivan was so young. "I didn't know who, but I knew that it had happened. I'm afraid I'm having a bit of trouble focusing on anything past Adam right now."

"Understandable," Duncan said dryly. "I'll go change and make sure everything's running smoothly. Then I'll come back here."

"Has it only been one day?" Randor asked, thinking over the hours that had passed.

"Not even a day," Duncan said. "I'll be back as soon as I can." He left, shutting the door behind him. Randor turned to see Adam blinking.

"Was that Duncan?" he asked blearily, sitting up a bit, pulling himself a little further up the bed despite Cringer's weight on his legs.

"Yes, he's gone to get cleaned up," Randor said, walking around to sit beside the bed. "Skeletor attacked Grayskull, but Duncan and the masters routed him without any trouble."

Adam's eyes widened and he said, "Oh, that's good. No one was hurt, I hope?"

Randor shook his head. "Duncan didn't mention anything." Adam relaxed a little, and Randor realized he hadn't noticed him tense. "Apparently, one of the guardsman, Ivan, has had a heart attack, though. Dorgan's in surgery with him now."

"Is he going to make it?" Adam asked immediately.

"No one's said anything," Randor replied. "I doubt it's in question."

"I'm glad to hear it," Adam said, sounding genuinely pleased. "He's a nice fellow. He's had perfectly rotten luck this year, though, and this just tops it."

Marlena nodded, but Randor was puzzled. "I didn't know you knew him," he said.

"I know most of the guards, Father," Adam said. "Don't you?" Randor nodded dumbly. "He had a girlfriend at home who sent him the typical letter. She fell in love with the blacksmith or some such. Then his favorite dog died. It's been a bad year. Someone should send for his parents."

"I'll see that it's done," Randor said.

"Duncan will probably take care of it," Adam said. "He usually does."

Randor nodded, uncertain what to say.

"Adam, how do you feel?" Teela asked, stroking his hair.

"Kind of fuzzy. What did Dorgan do?"

"He sedated you. Where were you so determined to go?"

Adam shrugged. "Oh, nowhere much," he said off-handedly.

Both his son's body language and his tone of voice caused a surge of disgust in Randor that he had difficulty controlling. It was so like the way he behaved after he ran away from a battle, or missed an important appointment. There was never a reason, never a cause. He just shrugged and claimed to have forgotten, or to have been doing something ridiculously trivial.

Fortunately, Adam didn't seem to have noticed his reaction and was still talking to Teela. Marlena was giving him an odd look, though. He schooled his expression and tried to examine his reaction. It had been so automatic, so ingrained . . . so utterly uncontrolled. His son lay in bed with high blood pressure caused by hypertension and a simple shift of his shoulders and a tone of voice had set Randor's hackles up. If he hadn't been paying attention to what he said . . .

And how often hadn't he been paying attention? How often had he said the unforgivable without even thinking about it? Given the way Adam had reacted today, he had a feeling it had been all too often. He didn't know what to think, and he was afraid that his face was showing every emotion far too clearly.

"Father, are you all right?" Adam asked, confirming his fear.

"I'm – I'm having trouble, Adam." He shook his head. "I've been horrible to you, and I don't like what I've done to you."

Adam gave him an odd sort of smile. "You haven't done this, Father." Randor raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Well, not alone." Teela sniffled and Adam caught her hand. "And don't you take too much on yourself, Teela. There's more than . . ." He stopped. "Well, it's not your fault, is all I can say." This last was said in a bleak voice that made Randor shiver.

"More what?" Randor asked, leaning closer. There was pain in Adam's eyes, a deeply felt and terrible anguish that made his father's heart bleed.

"Don't push him," Teela said, her eyes flashing. Randor straightened his spine, irritated by her tone and her attitude. It was one thing for Duncan and Marlena to criticize him, it was quite another for Teela to do so.

Adam squeezed her hand. "Hush," he said. "No fighting."

"Right," Teela said, and Randor got his own temper under control. When he looked into Adam's eyes again, the pain had vanished, covered by a mask of mild exasperation. Damn Teela!

"Look, can I get up? I feel a little foolish lying here in bed like this." Cringer shifted further up his legs, resting more of his weight on the prince. Adam looked at him, clearly startled.

"Dorgan has given you orders to rest," Marlena said gently.

"I can rest in a chair," Adam suggested in a teasing tone. Randor was astonished by the lightening change in his mood from bleak despondency to light-hearted kidding the space of a dozen breaths. What must be going through his mind to create such swift-changing spirits?

"He specified bed rest, Adam," his mother said firmly. "You're not getting up except to go to the bathroom."

"And even then not alone," Teela said. "Cringer will go with you at the very least, though I'd prefer someone a little more verbal went."

Cringer sat up a little and yowled loudly as if to prove that he was sufficiently verbal to be of use. He had a most offended expression on his face and when he thought he had proven his point, he growled at her.

"Cringe!" Adam exclaimed. "Hush." He scratched his tiger's head and got him to lie down again. Randor suppressed a chuckle.

Marlena had no such inhibitions. She laughed and stroked Cringer's back. "Good boy, you keep him in line."

"Teela has a point, Marlena," Randor said. "We need someone to stay with Adam, to make sure he . . . well . . ."

"I'm not going to do it again!" Adam exclaimed in frustration, glaring at his father. Randor looked at his son for a long moment, and the young man's eyes dropped. "I understand," he said dejectedly. "You don't trust me."

"Not about this," Randor said, gazing into Adam's eyes, willing him to understand. "You tried to kill yourself twice in the last day, we simply can't afford to risk it."

Adam turned and looked pleadingly at his mother, but Randor was relieved to see that she showed no signs of coddling. She wasn't going to relent. "Adam, we love you, and that means we're not going to take any risks that you might have another crisis when no one's around to stop you."

He looked irritated, but didn't seem to have an answer for her. "Well, I . . . I'm sorry," he said, his shoulders slumping. "I understand. But who are you going to get to take on the onerous duty of babysitting me?" he asked. "And what are you going to tell them?"

"That's a good question," Randor said, "and one I want to get Duncan and Dorgan both involved with. I think it's important that it be someone who can physically overpower you, can defend you if you get into trouble, and, obviously, someone who can follow you into the privy." This last was said in part to counter Teela's too obvious willingness to volunteer. "And someone who is utterly trustworthy with a state secret. It will take some thought."

"What about Raon?" Adam said, tilting his head. "He's very trustworthy, and already knows a number of state secrets, if things about me count as such." Adam shrugged. "I mean, we've been friends since we were boys." He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "Or perhaps Felinar. He's that nephew of Queen Mrey that has been working in the guard for the last year. I've spent some time with him, and I know he's a good man to have at your back." Adam blinked. "A good Qadian to have at your back."

Randor nodded, raising an eyebrow. Both those men were on his short list of candidates, but he thought he'd better check with Duncan first before going with the young men Adam had chosen. Perhaps there were reasons he wasn't aware of that would make them unsuitable. "I will certainly consider both those young men," he said. "But as I said, there may be things that Dorgan will want that I'm not yet aware of."

"Well," Adam said, sighing, "I'd be more comfortable if it was someone I know well."

Randor nodded and put his hand on Adam's shoulder. "I can understand that, and I'll do my best for you."

Adam smiled. "That would be great."

The door opened and a pair of medics came in. "Dinner for four," he said, grinning at them. They had with them small folding trays that would allow the patient's visitors to eat at the sides of the bed.

They ate and Adam didn't say much, seeming tired. In fact, after they were done, he said, "Would you mind choosing someone to stay with me and getting me a book? I'm getting a little too tired for conversation."

"Of course, Adam," his mother said. "I'll stay. There's already a guard posted outside the door and the window, so I should be sufficient company."

"Marlena?" Randor said, standing up and gesturing to her. She rose and walked over to him and he bit his lip. "Dear, one of the requirements was that Adam's . . . watcher, for lack of a better word . . . be able to overpower him. You don't qualify."

"Randor . . ." Marlena said, her eyes warning him to be careful with what he said.

"Nor can you reasonably follow him into to the privy, dear. I won't accept Teela for the same reasons, despite the fact that she's eager to help. I'm more likely to send for Mekanek, who's already in on the secret, or make a quick contact with Duncan and see if he thinks one of Adam's suggested fellows will do."

"Why don't you do that?" Marlena asked. "Mekanek's old enough to be his father. I know he's comfortable with him, but let's get things started properly if we can."

"Well, between you and Teela, I think you could manage him for the moment, so I'm going to go see if I can get Dorgan yet, and I'll call Duncan as well." She nodded, seeming satisfied. He walked over to the end of the bed. "Adam, I'm going to go out for a bit, so I'd like you to go . . um . . go to the restroom now so that your mother and Teela don't have to deal with it while I'm gone."

"FATHER!" Adam looked absolutely outraged. "I – I –"

No little embarrassed himself, Randor glared at him. "Come on, boy."

Beet red, Adam rose to his feet, and Randor, well aware that he was as scarlet as his son, accompanied him into the privy attached to the infirmary room. He didn't watch while Adam used the facility, but it was still excruciating. He tried to distract himself, but the room was singularly barren of interesting things to look at. The mirror was gone, as were all the small pieces of soothing artwork that would ordinarily adorn the walls. This won't do, he thought. A room like this would depress anyone.

When Adam had washed his hands, they walked out into the bedroom again, not looking at each other. Giving Marlena a nod, Randor left quickly. He checked first in Dorgan's office where he found the healer leaning over his desk, his head in his hands.

Alarmed, Randor knocked lightly on the door. "Did the operation go well?"

Dorgan looked up, eyes heavy with exhaustion. "Oh, it went fine, Randor. Ivan will be up and around in a few days, but he won't be fit for duty for a good long while."

"I wouldn't have expected him to be," Randor said. "Not after having heart surgery." He paused, choosing his words. "I need to ask you about Adam."

"Come in, then, and close the door." Randor followed his instructions. The healer was looking unhappy, which didn't make Randor feel any too confident. "What did you need?" Dorgan asked in a weary voice.

"I want to provide Adam with a companion. The qualifications I've got in mind are that he be able to overpower him, defend him if need be, and that he can follow him into the privy without undue embarrassment. Can you think of any others to add?"

"Someone good natured, but able stand up to him if necessary," Dorgan said instantly. "He also needs to be someone who won't view the assignment as a bore, or a babysitting job. I can think of nothing worse than having someone who resents the situation staying with him, or someone who thinks he's malingering." Randor nodded thoughtfully. "Someone who would be willing to be friendly, play games with him. It would be best if you found someone he's already comfortable with, I would think, but not someone who will let him get away with anything."

Randor snorted. "So basically, I need a younger version of Mekanek?"

Dorgan nodded. "That would be a good start, I'd say, if you can find someone."

"You look exhausted, Dorgan. Are you going to bed soon?"

"He is if I have anything to say about it," a female voice said from the doorway. Randor turned and saw Dorgan's wife looking sternly at her husband. "I'm glad you saved that boy's life, but you will do him no good if you collapse."

"Yes, my dear. I'll be along in a moment."

She left, and Randor could tell that if he wasn't along soon, she'd be back with a vengeance. "Well, old friend, I will leave you then. It looks as if a higher authority than I has commanded you."

Dorgan waved him off irritably and Randor left the office, picking up his comlink as he walked out. "Duncan?" he called. "Where are you?"

"About ten feet away from the door of the infirmary, sire. Why, where are you?"

He walked to the door and opened it, putting his comlink on his belt. "Right here. I need to ask your advice, and we should be heading toward my office in any case for the moment."

"Of course, sire," Duncan said, turning to walk with him. "What is it?"

"I'll ask you when we get to my office," Randor said. "Anything to report?"

Duncan shook his head. "All seems to be well, sire. No problems except that Jenkins is in something of a tizzy over your absence."

Randor sighed. "Did you give him any details?" he asked.

"No, it wasn't my place," Duncan said. "I just said that Adam was ill and needed his father's attention."

Randor nodded. "Thank you." They reached his office, and Randor looked at Jenkins' anxious face. "I'm sorry. Unless there's a real emergency, you need to take things to Duncan for now. I need to be available to Adam. I will come in when I can."

Jenkins bowed. "Of course, sire," he said.

Randor took Duncan into his office and sat down behind his desk. Duncan sat in one of the chairs opposite it. "Yes, Randor?"

"We need someone to stay with Adam, someone who can be . . . well the upshot of what we need is a younger version of Mekanek. Good natured, likes Adam, won't think there's anything wrong in the task he's been assigned and will be friendly as well as able to stand up to him when necessary."

"So, you need a saint?" Duncan asked. "I don't know anyone who fits all those criteria."

"How about He-Man?" Randor suggested, sitting forward and smiling broadly.