The Deformed Knight
A small collection of stories containing the adventures of Glenn before his most epic journey.
Chapter Twelve; Words Unspoken…
Glenn had forgotten how much he had come to rely on the work the baker gave him. Even the paltry sum of coins he received from his recent excursions were more profitable than circling around Beggar's Lane and offering random services. It was better than it had been before he worked for the baker, seeing that his tenure there only bolstered his reputation as a hard worker who got things done. Working for the baker had also built a reliable customer base. Old familiar faces would stop and pay their respects and ask Glenn why he had stopped working for him.
Most of the time, Glenn could detect something in their voices that betrayed their unwillingness to admit that they knew more than they let on. Even then, it showed that people had begun to trust the rumors less and less whenever Glenn sent them on their way by saying it was only a mere difference of opinion and that he had no ill will toward the baker. Glenn held his newfound lesson close to heart and held his tongue whenever he would hear rumors about what the baker may have said of him. For every wicked word he heard, he would only offer a good word in return while begging his parents to do the same. Already, within the space of a month, the effects were easily seen. Those who had sided with the baker no longer looked to Glenn with annoyance, but regarded him as the kind soul they saw him to be before. The same went for the baker whose business grew more and more steady.
Many times Glenn thought about returning to the baker to pay a visit. Perhaps he could have his old job back which was very pleasing to think upon. However, something reigned in his desire to speak with the baker. Whether it was fear, the Holy Spirit, or some manner of premonition, Glenn did not know. The only thing Glenn knew at that point was that he had no desire to sort things out until he felt in his heart that he was ready. It was probably best that this was the course he undertook, for a great change befell him that very same day. It was a simple meeting that had set the wheels of fate into motion.
The Knight Captain had been fervently praying for guidance. It was strange to him that he was so moved to choose a candidate that was such an impossible choice. Everyday he would see Glenn working away in the street, attending to the people with such diligence that he could not help but imagine him serving thousands with the sword. Everyday Gavin would investigate into Glenn's situation and hear how people fawned over him. He would always think to himself, "See now how thou doth stare amiably to a boy in rags? To what extent shall their hearts soar when they shall see that same boy donning the colors of our country, his face rigid with confidence and justice?"
However, he could see the reaction of those who were not of Glenn's station. The Lords and Nobles would look to the Knight Captain with condemnation in their eyes. They would say among themselves "This man who leads our sons into battle would choose a pauper before he would choose one of us? O' mighty king! Remove this fool from his station! He is no more fit to be a ruler than a Guardian! A traitor he is! A traitor!" It was ridiculousness, thought the Knight Captain. How could the simple choice of an apprentice be such a powerful thing? Such were problems of politics. A pleasant voice called to him and forced his mind away from his troubles if only for a brief moment.
"My dear, wilt thou retire with me? 'Tis late and I doth miss thee...Please, come and lay with me."
The voice was as soft and soothing as a siren. Gavin turned to face his wife with a kind smile. She stood in the doorway of his private study, leaning against its frame seductively. He nodded his head and rose from his knees, his back smarting slightly from how long it had been bent. She looked at him with a smile tinged with sympathy and worry. "Thou'rt pondering on who shall be your ward, are you not? I see that even now the concern is still grave for thee."
"Aye." He said with a slight nod, "the king insists more and more each day that I choose anon. No matter what choice I have, I shall always be disappointed."
She stepped forward and leaned against his chest, her arms enfolding him. She could hear his calm heartbeat and she swooned. "They may not be as the baker's assistant, but they will do fine."
Gavin sighed, "Aye. It would be the safe thing, but safe choices rarely make changes, my dear."
His wife was silent for a moment and then giggled as if she found something funny. Gavin looked down at her, a mischievous smile on his face, "Why dost thou laugh?"
She laughed again, "'Tis nothing. 'Tis only a silly flight of fancy."
"I would hear it." Gavin insisted kindly, taking her head and kissing her scalp gently and allowing his kisses to travel down her face and to her neck.
She breathed heavily, the sensations causing a mixture of arousal and tickling. "'Twould be a funny sight to see the boy be an apprentice to an apprentice."
Gavin stopped and looked at his wife as if she were some great ray of light that shined upon him. She misinterpreted his joy and stumbled to reorganize and explain her thoughts, "What I mean, is that it I merely found it to be a funny thing to think that perhaps the boy can only be an apprentice in anything...even in being an apprentice..." She stopped and then began to say, "Forgive me my husband, I did not mean to-"
He silenced her with a finger to her lips, "You are an instrument of revelation. Thou hast given me the answer I hath prayed for. Thou failest me not, and thou liftest me up always."
"Truly?" She said, relieved that she caused no offense.
"Yes." He answered back softly. "Tomorrow, the problem that hath plagued me for so long shall be remedied. But for now, I must reward thee for thy brilliance." He kissed her gently even as she laughed at the phrasing of his proposal. He scooped her up into his arms and carried her off to the boudoir where they spent their time even long after the candle next to their bedside expired. That night he would show his gratitude in the manner in which she wanted it most at that moment; even to the best of his ability for that was what she deserved.
"Long night?" Avary asked with a knowing smile.
Gavin could not help but be startled, but smiled when he realized that certain things show in the manner of your walk even after a night's rest. Gavin nodded and said with a tone of mock begrudging, "Very much so. Nothing but work, work, work." They both laughed. He took his seat on the park bench while Avary allowed himself to work on that section of the garden during this visit. He knelt down before the Knight Captain, but only to trim the grass that began to grow over the brick walkway. Amid the steady snipping of grass shears, they spoke.
"I have come to a conclusion."
"Concerning..." Avary let his voice draw out, waiting for Gavin to fill in the gaps.
"Concerning Glenn and how he may occupy my seat within the apprenticeship."
Avary sighed. He had hoped this day would never come, but he had resolved to leave the decision up to Glenn once it was possible. "And how will you achieve such a task?"
"My wife, in pure accident, revealed an idea to me. Glenn shall not be my apprentice. Rather, he shall be an apprentice to my apprentice!" Gavin smiled at the clever idea of it all.
Avary looked thoughtful as he snipped away, "That is a very wise way to approach it. There are things you must be cautious of if that is the route you will take. The child will be indignant that he must share a master with an 'undeserving' pauper. There shall be cries of favoritism, no matter how oft you forsake the training of one for the other."
Gavin thought on it, "That is true. How would I go about doing such a thing?"
"Your approach in the matter should be deft. You must choose a father who would disagree with his son, who is stern with him, and who does not favor any sort of weakness."
"And how would that assuage any claims of favoritism?"
"'Tis simple. No man trusts the incessant whining of a child. Children who have trained under knights cry under the burden, but no one pays them mind. All children, until they know better, feel as if the entire world is against them. However if the parent of the child is in agreement, authority is there. There is no more doubt, seeing that even the parent spot any wrongs, be they true or false. That is why you must find a candidate who would be embarrassed by any weakness, who would take it as a disgrace if their son complained against their master."
"In other words...a military man." Gavin said with a growing smile.
"Thou hast cut to the quick." Avary said, symbolically taking another loud snip at the grass. "A military man believes that his children directly reflect him. After all, what matter of General can control an army and yet cannot control their own children? Hence, any dishonor garnished by his son would reflect poorly on him. He would struggle to keep his son's protests hidden and would only out thee in extreme situations which can be avoided by making an effort to teach them both."
"To teach them both would be an easy thing. I could teach many if only tradition has not forbade me to teach more than one."
"You are close to breaking tradition already," Avary laughed, "but still, 'tis a wise idea to teach them both under the pretense that one serves the other."
"There is more to this." Gavin, the Knight Captain, said with a great gleam in his eye. "Since he will be in service to a noble, he must be instructed in all things."
Avary stopped and for the first time felt some sense of approval toward this plan. "You would really teach him to read and write?"
"Scholars would be more fit to do such a thing. I will oversee their progress, but I shall leave it up to them."
Avary lost his smile as he stumbled upon a thought. "There will be much opposition. Scholars are already snooty when speaking with nobles. How will it fare when they teach a peasant? This is unprecedented. It may be too much for poor Glenn."
"He is made of a fine cloth. If anyone can endure any hardship, it is that boy."
"I am inclined to agree, but perhaps it is best if you find this out for thyself and ask of him."
"That is what I am off to do. I fare thee well, Avary." Gavin said as he rose with a groan, his body still slow to put weight on his legs.
"Give my regards to the lady of the manor." said Avary with a laugh. Gavin chuckled and walked off.
Gavin was not entirely truthful. It did not seem prudent to lift up the heart of Glenn just yet, if indeed this would be something he would rejoice in. Rather, he wanted to make certain that all would go according to plan and the most uncertain variable was the reaction of the nobles. Already he had a person in mind amongst the nobles. If things did not pan out the way he imagined Gavin would have rather had another plan to fall back on. He had already considered the best possible choices for a candidate besides Glenn. Fortunately, his plans were able to coincide because the person that Avary described happened to be the father of Gavin's next choice.
Gavin had chosen the very boy who would grow up to lead the Guardian armies against the sorcerer, Magus. It was Cyrus of Porre that was chosen and to whom he walked to at this moment.
The scenic towers and gardens of Mangaranon Lane surrounded him as he strolled toward the Neros Estate. He could see the whisperings of townspeople all around him and he could already make out their guesses as to his business and where he was going. Yes, this was very much like he imagined. The wealthy, in many terms, were not so different from the poor. There were hushed whisperings in Central Street all the way through Gemstone and Baker Street just as there were here. All people acted the same in the presence of a hero; with awe-inspired whispering and useless gossip.
Although he did not need permission from the guards to enter the paradisical habitat of the wealthy, he did take it upon himself to tell a crier at the gate that he was on his way to the Neros Estate. In the short term there was no immediate need for such an action. Some of these wealthy Lords, whose sole means of income were to give out and collect on loans to businesses and did nothing else, we quite speedy with their gossip. Even so, it would undoubtedly give Astor of Neros more time to prepare and it would let all those in Mangaranon Lane know that the Knight Captain was paying a visit. In the most devious part of his mind, Gavin knew that this was a tactical ploy. By making it public knowledge, Astor would have to agree to the conditions or lose face by refusing and thus being refused in return. After all, what noble Lord would want to be shamed by being refused?
The guards stood at attention, letting Gavin and his crew walk past the cast-iron gates. The attendant of the house stood out in front. It was that same man who accosted Glenn at the party. He was as fat as ever, yet held himself with a haughty and self-appointed type of dignity. It reminded Gavin of those cartoons he had seen paupers make out of charcoal. It caused a smile to rise on the corners of his lips as he imagined the profile of a portly pig dressed in fine clothing over that of the ruddy-faced servant. "I assume you are the attendant of the house? I have come to see Astor of Neros. Is he in?"
The man bowed as low as he could, which was far as he belly would allow, and said "He doth be in the study. I shall lead thee to him. You should be pleased. The crier hath done his work."
"Good." Gavin said with a nod. He waved a dismissive gesture to the guards that accompanied him and they stood at attention by the doorway.
The manservant was a talker. More than that, he was a suck-up. He continually sung praises about the Lord of the manor, about the king and how he could be of such wonderful service to him if he were called, yet asked Gavin to not divulge any thing they discussed in such an insincere manner that he could not be any more transparent. It pleased Gavin to no end when he 'assured' the servant with an oath to keep what they discussed between them. He pushed open the doors to the study and saw Astor sitting behind a large, dark cherry wood table. His desk was organized, his books stacked in columns, each column holding its own subject to be studied. There was a bit of a pleasant surprise when Gavin saw a book of art that lay open on the table and for some reason it slightly endeared him to Astor.
Astor took a puff from a pipe, an antique made of intricate workmanship, and rose from his chair. "Knight Captain. I hath been expecting thee."
"Please, be seated. There is no need to salute me within thine own home." Gavin said gently. "May I join thee?"
"Verily, please do. I was looking at the ledger for my estate."
They spent a few minutes in the usual trite and necessary opening conversations. The Knight Captain asked how business was and Sir Neros explained that it had been a good year, save for the many people leaving for Guardia. That led into a conversation about business plans and strategies, a discussion about the separation of classes (which actually saved Gavin from falling asleep in his chair) and finally about the Knight Captain's troubles in finding an apprentice. It was Astor who breeched the conversation which pleased Gavin. It showed that Astor had been chomping at the bit and that he was more anxious for the opportunity than he was letting on. "So, with so many fine young men to choose, I imagine it must be a great difficulty."
"Aye, and there is no pleasing everyone. There will always be dissention within my ranks no matter what the choice."
"'Tis true," Astor said as he emptied out his pipe onto a plate made specifically for that purpose. "I could regale thee with all the stories of men I had to choose when it came to rank. There was a time when I was forced to choose a new Lieutenant. It drove the men wild with rage. I had chosen the least popular but the hardest working man. They tortured the poor boy. I almost had to transfer him from my ranks."
Gavin felt that perhaps there was a hidden point in here and prodded the conversation cautiously. "And what became of him?"
"They made their ground in the El Nido islands and they were trodden down upon by a band of Mystics. He led them well and ensured that not a single man was lost. He had been respected ever since."
Gavin smiled, but for a completely reason that Astor had imagined. "It is true. There are people who cannot see the wisdom in a choice. They may only see it when time proves them."
"Aye," Astor said as he packed another roll of tobacco into his pipe. "However, for there to be any fruit from labors, the tree must be well chosen and cared for, yes?"
"I believe that is the reason why I am here today."
Astor sat forward in his chair and crossed his legs. There was an expectant look in his face, "Would this have anything to do with the apprenticeship?"
"Yes, it would." Gavin said, trying to choose his words and quickly and as wisely as he could. "Your son, for a long time, has struck me as a marvelous choice."
Astor was barely able to hide his pride as he took a puff from his pipe. It was not a swelling of humility for being chosen, but rather it was an indulgent pride that came from him. It was almost as if Astor had grown impatient in the time he had waited. After all, how much time did the Knight Captain have to take to make the most obvious choice? Even still, there was pride and relief. Astor did not boast nor show bad manners. Rather, he inclined his head and said with as much sincerity he could muster, after blowing a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling, "It doth honor me that thou hast given my son such consideration. Hast thou any inquiry pertaining to my son?"
"Aye…what are his interests? How does he feel about serving the people of this kingdom?"
Now it was his turn for Astor to choose what to say carefully. Astor was a shrewd man. A man in his political station had to be. He was a man of action, true, but still a man of words and manipulation if need be. He had studied his former interactions with the Knight Captain. He knew the following about him: he was devoutly loyal to king and country, he had a soft spot for those who were industrious, he did not tolerate indifference to the king and how it was ruled, and he had a strange love and devotion to the poor it seemed. He began with: "My son, if thou did not notice, follows after me. I have taught him from a young age to care for his king and country. What manner of man cares only of himself and not for his country and country men?"
Gavin nodded, watching Astor's face carefully. What he had said so far rang true…
Astor touched his fingers to his lips for a brief moment before saying, "Also, I have taught my son that although we are of higher class, we must care for those in the lower class. Although we support them, they support us also. I have endeavored to teach my son that even the lowliest peasant can save the life of a noble." Gavin saw the slight change in expression; the slight aversion of the eyes as they rolled to access a part of the mind that triggered rehearsed and created memories, the twitching in the corners of the mouth, the tightening of the jaw, even the change of the cadence of his speech. Was it all a lie? No man can know for certain. However, Gavin could at least say that from what he had seen at the party and what he had seen now, there was inconsistency. He already highly suspected that the importance of the lower class was never discussed between Astor and Glenn. Perhaps the doubt was all in Gavin's mind, but he could not doubt what he had seen.
He recalled the party. He recalled the glaring of Cyrus toward Glenn, the way he fretted as the people at the table inquired of Glenn and praised his input. He also recalled Cyrus' taunt, which even the Knight Captain could not help but smirk as he heard it: "I supposed that even our little friend here would be too much of a match against their troops." Only now did Gavin reflect more fully upon the meaning. Even so, Gavin knowing the true nature of Cyrus toward the lower class, he had seen his opening. He began excitedly, putting on a show of agreeability.
"What you say is the utter truth, Sir Neros…we are but flesh and bone, and all flesh and bone bleed like the rest."
"Aye," said Astor, blowing another cloud of smoke toward the ceiling.
"It is a shame that those blessed to live in comfort, by the Most High God, are hated for their good fortune. The lower-class despise us only for this reason."
"Verily, that is the truth of the matter. If only there were a way to remedy the situation." Astor stated with a nod, his words very well hiding the lack of sincerity in his voice.
"I believe there might be a solution…" Gavin said, stroking his moustache.
Astor had begun to show his first signs of anxiety, but hid it underneath curiosity. "How, good Sir Knight?"
"Suppose that I asked thy son to join my apprenticeship? Suppose thou would accept only on the condition that he may have a squire at his side. A lower class squire, kept in thy house and under thy roof? Imagine the morale and the restoration of the faith of the people? They would rally under our king, our houses, because of thy single kindness!"
Astor's jaw had tightened. That was when Gavin noticed that perhaps that Astor was quicker and cleverer than he imagined. Astor leaned forward on clenched hands and said, "A certain someone, like that apprentice?"
"Apprentice?" Gavin asked, feigning confusion.
"The baker's apprentice…the one from the celebration. I believe his name was Glenn."
"Thy memory astounds me." Gavin said, aiming for flattery.
It was not enough. Astor had begun to see his true motives. "It would be hard to remember had you not represented him so vigorously. Also, word has come from around Mangaranon Lane that thou hast approached him at several times…he is a bit of a wonder, it seems."
"Yes." Gavin said, now finding himself on the defense. "He had seemed a good choice to me as any. He is loved by his people, he is industrious, and he is quick to obey."
"Love is something that can earned, industry may be taught, and obedience comes with training. Size and strength does not. He is far too small."
Gavin thought quickly, knowing that waiting too long to answer would damage any credibility he had. "Ah, but size is the matter of the thing! The most humble and smallest of servants becomes a venerated leader among the poor, yet remains a servant to a larger and healthier noble! The distinction shall be there! There will be no doubt who the better is, yet who can deny that the boy did not have the opportunity?"
"Thou'rt training my son for war, not for politics, Knight Captain." Astor said, dumping out his pipe.
"Politics is war, Sir Neros. I know this is something that we are all familiar with."
"Quite." Astor said, his face showing the slight hints of a frown.
Such was the nature of politics: both parties staring at each other, knowing that things spoken plainly would solve a problem faster than anything. However, certain things cannot be said, subjects cannot be broached, and things unspoken can never lead to blame. Gavin and Astor, both masters of their craft, analyzed each other over the large desk that separated them. There was a feeling of mutual resentment. It angered Astor that his son was not enough, and it angered Gavin that he was not free to make his own choice. Both knew without saying another word between what the deal would be. Astor craved credibility, Gavin craved his ideal knight. One could not happen without the other. Both stared hard at each other for some time until Astor sighed.
"I will not go easy on the squire…" Astor said, his fingers flexing against each other, "If we are all but flesh and bone, pain affects us the same."
"I would not expect it any other way." Gavin said with a nod. "However, it is requisite that he be taught and sheltered. And a squire must always accompany his ward." Gavin answered.
"Yes…of course…He shall be cared for as much as needed. Cyrus shall be his ward. And a squire is always a squire…never anything more."
"Yes." Gavin said with a nod and an extended hand.
Astor took the hand. He quickly dismissed the Knight Captain by saying that he needed to finish his assessments. As Gavin left he recalled those final words, the words that were the truest expression of desire told in that meeting: "A squire is always a squire…never anything more." Although the rules of conduct did not allow him to speak freely, Astor's message and statement of the deal was loud and clear:
"He may be your choice, but you need my son and never shall Glenn of Porre be above my son."
Author's Note; I was kind of digging the story toward the end. I wanted to go a little further and cover Glenn's reaction to all of this, but this seemed an appropriate place to stop the chapter. I especially like the chapter of the title. It seems to be a theme that carries throughout the entirety. Anyway, it has been so long. Once again, sorry for the lack of updates. I love this story. I'll keep writing. Pinky-promise. :P