Chapter 36: Discipline

Eldrey watched, emotions warring within him, as the dark haired little boy ran towards him. Through the long curls of black, the pointed ears of an elf showed. He looks like his great-grandmother, he thought, crouching down and opening his arms just in time to catch his son.

"Papa!" the boy cried, hugging his neck. Eldrey let him plant a wet kiss on his cheek before pulling away and studying his son. Thank whatever higher power there were that there was no trace of the boy's mother in his features, he mused. Kida's death still grieved him and he found it hard enough not to feel some resentment towards his son as it was. If he looked like her, Eldrey didn't know if he would be able to look at him.

"How are you doing?" he asked the boy, kissing his forehead. Yes, he loved his son, despite the circumstances surrounding his birth. He would never deny it. It was impossible not to love him, he was so bright and cheerful, a smile always in his face.

"Good, Papa!" he exclaimed, smiling happily. "I missed 'ou!"

"I missed you too, Kedrey," Eldrey said softly, standing up and taking the boy's hand and leading him towards the small house built into a giant oak.

For the previous four years, the rebels had been hiding out in the wild forests to the north of Du Weldenvarden. They had been growing steadily, every few days, two or three new recruits appeared, having snuck through Du Weldenvarden to join the cause. Eldrey had been busy coordinating training groups, looking after supplies and examining the reports their spies sent. He had hired an old woman in Teirm to look after Kedrey, he had no desire to let his son run wild through the camp, not only because he was his son and such a thing would reflect poorly on him, but Kedrey was, despite the surroundings, noble born and was to be raised as such.

"Papa, are we going to see Mama?" Kedrey asked that night after they had eaten and Eldrey had sent Kedrey's nanny to bed. He could handle putting his son to bed.

"Not tonight," Eldrey said quietly as he helped the boy into his nightshirt. Kedrey regarded him with solemn eyes. Even at five, he knew better than to argue, but he was, after all, only a young child.

"Papa, I wanna see Mama," he whimpered.

"I said, not tonight, Kedrey," Eldrey said sternly. "Don't argue with me."

Kedrey started to pout, but he climbed into his father's lap and patted his face. The boy was very skinny compared to most young children; his fingers were long and fine-boned, evidence of his elfish blood.

"Papa sad?" he asked, examining Eldrey's face.

"Papa is sad when Kedrey doesn't obey," Eldrey replied, schooling his features to a sad mask. Kedrey frowned and tears shimmered in his emerald eyes. Eldrey hated using his son's tender heart against him, but he firmly believed in obedience from all under his authority, especially his son.

"I sowwy, Papa!" Kedrey cried, throwing his arms around his neck.

"You are forgiven, Kedrey," he said softly. "Stop crying now. Do generals cry?"

"No." Kedrey looked up at him and the tears stopped. "Night-night time?"

"Yes." Eldrey lowered the boy to the ground. "Into bed."

Kedrey climbed into the cot in the corner of the room, pulling the blanket to his chin. Eldrey stood over him and rested his hand on his son's head.

"Good night, Kedrey."

"Night night, Papa."

He watched as Kedrey fell into the trance of sleep. He silently left the room and went into his own. Another cot stood against the far wall, a small chest, padlocked and locked with spells, stood at the foot of his cot. Kida's chest. He stripped down to his breeches and, after slipping a dagger under his pillow, settled onto his bed, willing himself to think of nothing, to float on a wave of nothing. When he was aware of nothing and everything, mind tuned to the forest around the camp, he called to mind Kida's face. As he had done every night for two years, he related the day's events to her, touching especially on the evening he had spent with Kedrey. If he stretched his senses out at times like this, he could almost, almost, imagine he once again felt her touch, could pretend that, for one last time, her body was close to his, that he could run his fingers through her hair, hold her, touch her once more.