Small Rebellions

"Murtagh, you come here this instant!" Sabrina sounded very annoyed and Murtagh knew he was pushing her patience. "I mean it! You're in trouble, young man!"

The five-year-old didn't move. Sabrina would likely send him to bed with a lecture instead of supper and maybe impose a day of house arrest. Nothing he couldn't handle easily.

It's worth it sometimes, Murtagh thought smugly. She hasn't seen me yet and even if she did, she'd have to come get me, and she won't because she can't climb in a dress, and sooner or later she'll have to ask herself if it's really worth the effort.

"MURTAGH!" Now Sabrina was really angry. "I see you up in that tree! If you're not down here on the count of three I'm going to call Tornac to get you down."

Now that was no idle threat!

"One … two …"

Murtagh quickly scrambled down the sturdy branches of the maple tree. If Sabrina said she was going to call Tornac then she meant it, and that was to be taken seriously. A few extra minutes to play might be worth Sabrina's form of discipline, but certainly not Tornac's. As far as Murtagh was concerned, nothing was worth Tornac's form of discipline.

The moment his feet touched the grassy ground Sabrina had a firm hold of his arm and was pulling him back toward the gardens that surrounded Morzan's castle. It was a fine fortress, solidly built, artfully designed, with beautiful, well-maintained gardens surrounding it, but to the five-year-old boy, captive in his nurse's firm grip, it looked like a prison. He had never been outside the castle grounds and lately he was more aware of it than ever; aware of the fact that he knew every stick and stone and angle of his small world and that he was tired and bored with it. And he was also aware that there was a bigger, wilder and also more dangerous world outside the walls, saturated with countless, unbreakable spells, that surrounded his home.

"You need to be taught a serious lesson in obedience, I think," Sabrina said in an angry undertone that made the boy's mind return to the present. "You needed to be in your room half an hour ago, Murtagh. You wait until Tornac hears about this."

Looks like I'm not getting away with it after all, Murtagh thought sulkily and not quite so self-assured anymore. I might as well have stayed up in that tree.

There was no going back now, though. Sabrina still held him so firm, it hurt his arm, and he knew that if he tried to break free he would only add to his penalty.

Sabrina seldom called her husband to punish the boy and she was too fond of Murtagh to subject him to that unless it was absolutely necessary, but right now she felt like she had to be stricter with the five-year-old, considering the frequency with which incidences like this one were happening lately. Murtagh was growing stronger in his spirited and rebellious character, and although Tornac didn't like hurting him anymore than she did, he was the one with the stronger arm and Murtagh needed to feel the consequences of his actions. All the lectures he had sat through had obviously not made any lasting impressions.

"What were you doing up there anyway?"

"Watching for pixies," Murtagh answered quietly. He turned as far as his nurse's grasp would allow as they approached the doorway, to catch a last glimpse of the sky, before he was confined back into the walls of his room, where the window faced south, so the sun never really shone in except around noon, and then not even directly.

‡

Tornac slowly walked down the corridor until he stood in front of the door to Murtagh's room. It didn't take long for him to hear the quiet sobbing coming from inside. He knocked. "Murtagh, may I come in?"

"No!" The answer came promptly as an angry shout, muffled by the wood of the closed door. "Go away!"

Tornac quietly opened the door anyway and stepped into the warmly lit room, which was at a pleasant temperature from the crackling fire that burned happily in the fireplace. Normally he would have scolded the boy for using such a disrespectful tone, but today he just couldn't be angry with him. There was something else, something other than just defiance and anger at being punished, in the five-year-old's tears today.

Murtagh sat curled up, with his head buried in his arms, on the small windowsill, almost hidden by the curtains and the shadows, since the sun had set by now and the world beyond the window was invisible in the night.

Tornac slowly walked up to him and gently laid his hand on the boy's shoulder. Murtagh jerked away.

Tornac sighed. "Murtagh, just try to understand."

"Go away," the five-year-old answered without lifting his head.

"Murtagh, I don't enjoy hurting you. You brought this on yourself, you know."

"I hate you!" The words stabbed like the point of a knife. Even though Tornac knew Murtagh didn't really mean them, they hurt.

He sat down next to the boy and put his arm around him. "Well, I love you, and I always will, and you know it."

"I don't believe you."

Tornac pulled him close.

"Just leave me alone."

Murtagh resisted for a moment then relaxed into his friends embrace and lifted his tear-stained face from his arms to lean his head against his protector's chest. Tornac gently stroked his hair. After a couple of minutes the boy seemed to calm down a bit until only a few quiet, quivering sobs escaped him now and then.

Tornac put his hand under Murtagh's chin and gently lifted his head. "What's wrong," he asked, knowing the boy would understand.

"Nothing!" Murtagh tried to avoid his gaze.

"Really? Then why don't you just do as you're told?"

Murtagh didn't answer.

"What's wrong Murtagh?" he asked again.

"Nothing," the five-year-old insisted angrily, unwilling to share his feelings because Tornac just didn't understand them. "Just go away!"

Tornac sighed again, knowing he wouldn't get an answer if the boy didn't want to give one. Murtagh could be very stubborn when it came to such matters.

He decided to get to the point, to the reason he had come here in the first place, even though he knew that Murtagh would want to be alone right now. "Would you want me to go away if I told you that I have some great news for you?"

Murtagh sniffed once and then looked up, puzzled. "What news?" he asked expectantly, his curiosity taking over.

Tornac smiled when he saw that he finally had the boy's full attention. "Murtagh, your mother is coming home!"