Chapter 18 - Responsibility

Randor watched fondly as his son and Teela dug into the ice cream that had been hastily brought for them. He caught Duncan's attention and gestured him over. His man-at-arms gave both children a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder and walked over to the chair by his king's bed.

"Yes, sire?" he said quietly.

"What's the situation at Snake Mountain? Will they be able to use the excavator?"

A broad smirk creased Duncan's face. "I think I can safely promise you that they won't," he said.

"So, what did you do to it?" Randor asked.

Raising an eyebrow, Man-at-Arms said, "The minute one of them tries to tinker with it or put in a drill bit, it will explode in their face."

"Do we know that they haven't take it directly to Arleron village? Or that they won't force one of the villagers to –"

"The moment we touched down, I sent Buzz-Off and Ram-Man to execute the evacuation plan. There was no need for secrecy any longer, so he's already finished it. The villagers are safely in Andrenos as we speak."

"Oh, good."

"And I have someone watching Snake Mountain from a safe distance. They went straight there."

"I think we'd better find a new location for Arleron village, Duncan. And that we had better dig that thing up before someone else does, so we can destroy it."

"What!" Dorgan's angry voice brought every conversation in the infirmary to a halt. "What do you mean, he got away?" The healer marched into Adam and Randor's room and stopped at the foot of the king's bed. Randor sank down further in the bed under the healer's irate glare. "What happened to that dastardly imposter?" he demanded.

"He changed into a ferret and escaped," Duncan said. "Sy-Klone, Manny and Stratos are pursuing him."

"You let him shift his shape and get away?"

Adam let out a bark of laughter that cut off as everyone turned astonished glares at him. "Um. . ." he said. "I don't think it was a voluntary change."

"What do you mean, Adam?" Randor asked him.

"There was something Skeletor said before Evil-Lyn knocked me out." Randor controlled a surge of fury at the calm, matter of fact way Adam recounted being abused by that evil witch. It shouldn't seem so ordinary an event to the boy. "Skeletor asked him how he'd managed to stop being a ferret. I think either Skeletor or Evil-Lyn turned him into a ferret at some point."

"A ferret?" Mekanek said slowly. "But, why?"

Adam shrugged. "I don't know. But he used to be Evil-Lyn's apprentice. Maybe he ticked her off or something."

"Evil-Lyn's apprentice?" Randor asked incredulously. "I didn't know she'd ever had an apprentice."

"You know what's weird," Adam said. "She said he was sick." There was a stunned silence in the room as they all took in that earthshaking notion. "Like she's not the creepiest thing that ever walked the planet." Teela nodded earnest agreement.

"Did Skeletor say anything else of interest?" Randor asked.

"No, I think that's it. I couldn't help thinking of your letter, though." Randor looked quizzically at his son. "Well, you were right, Skeletor was amused to see me weak and feeble."

"Adam!" Randor exclaimed. "I never thought – I never meant –"

"I know." Adam met his eyes and there was a brief moment of connection before the boy looked away.

"This is getting us far off the subject," Dorgan growled. "Randor, how could you let that weasel get away?"

Duncan stood up and took the old healer by the arm. "He hasn't definitely escaped, yet, Dorgan. And didn't you say earlier that they both needed to sleep?" Glaring at Man-at-Arms, the healer let himself be led toward the door.

"All right, Duncan, but they have to sleep." He looked around at the others filling the room. "That means that the rest of you need to leave as well." The queen nodded and settled firmly in the chair between the beds. Randor could see that no one was going to be able to move her.

Mekanek grinned at Adam and gave him a careful pat on the foot. "See ya later, kid."

Teela stood her ground as Dorgan made to chivvy her out. "I'm staying. I need to guard Adam."

"Young woman, he will be fine. You run along and –"

"I agree," said Marlena unexpectedly. "Randor, I think you and Adam both need to be assigned personal bodyguards. For the moment, Teela and Duncan will do, but once things have settled a bit, we'll have to select people with fewer responsibilities."

Randor gaped at his wife, whose determined expression brooked no argument. Beyond her, he could see Adam's horrified expression, and wondered if it mirrored his own. Dorgan, stymied by the queen's insistent stance, nodded, then left. The little group who had spent so memorable a time cooped up in the west tower room was alone together once more.

"Teela needs guarded herself!" Adam declared. "Mekanek said that the imposter threatened to get rid of her."

Teela gave him an incredulous look. "Are you offering yourself for the job?" she asked. "You just need to lie there for awhile, and – and grow skin!"

Randor raised an eyebrow at her vehemence, and Marlena looked at her measuringly. Teela began to shift uneasily under the queen's eye. "An admirable sentiment, Teela." She glanced back and forth between her husband and her son. "And it applies to both of you."

"I'm trying, my dear. I'm trying," Randor said. He felt his eyelids begin to droop. "Blast!" he muttered. "I think I'm falling asleep."

"Good. Set a good example for your son." Randor heard his son begin a complaining response, but he was asleep before the boy finished.

"Mother, I've been sleeping for days! There wasn't much to do in that box but sleep." His mother's eyes softened and she started tucking him in more thoroughly. "Mom!" Adam exclaimed. "Mom, I'm fine."

She bent to kiss him on the forehead, then turned to Teela. "Adam could ask for no better friend," she said. Teela turned scarlet. Adam hunched down lower in bed, hoping that his embarrassment didn't show. Marlena put her hands on Teela's shoulders and leaned up to kiss her on the forehead. "I'm so sorry that you had to go through that, but I am glad that you were there for Adam. I shudder to contemplate what condition he would be in now without your support." Adam slid lower in the bed, and Teela blushed redder. The queen gazed up into Teela's eyes. "You've grown so tall." She sat down again, smiling at Man-at-Arms. "Our children are turning out quite nicely, aren't they, Duncan?"

Man-at-Arms shrugged. "I like them well enough," he said, a half-smile tugging at his lips. Adam wished he could fall asleep on command as a form of self-defense. Otherwise he was going to die of humiliation. From her expression, he guessed Teela wanted to sink through the floor.

For some while, Cringer had been asleep on the bed, great head resting on Adam's hip, enormous paws limp across his legs. He began to dream suddenly, distracting Adam from everything else. The big cat whined and his paws started twitching, claws flexing in and out. "H-hey, Cringer! Wake up!" Adam exclaimed, gently shaking the cat's head.

The green head whipped up and Cringer's unfocused eyes stared into his for a moment, then the cat woke up completely and rubbed his hand affectionately. Adam applied himself firmly to the task of scratching Cringer's ears, knowing that his poor friend had to have been neglected while he was gone. "Don't worry, Cringer, everything's just fine." Cringer purred enthusiastically and crawled up so that he was lying all along and on top of Adam's body. Adam bit back a cry of pain as one of Cringer's paws found the burn on his chest. Cringer inched backward, eyes on his boy's face. He licked the back of Adam's hand apologetically. "It's okay, boy, you didn't know."

"Hey!" Teela said. "I know. We should send Cringer out after the imposter. After all, he knows his scent, and if he's a weasel, Cringer should be able to catch him easy!"

Cringer looked up eagerly, as though to proclaim his willingness to undertake the task.

"No, I think Cringer needs to stay with Adam," Man-at-Arms said, walking over and stroking the cat's head. "He's missed his master."

Adam's mother was looking fondly at her son and his pet. Adam glanced up at Teela. He had a feeling that the only thing restraining Teela from making sarcastic comments about sappy princes and their furry friends was the presence of his mother.

Gravity started pulling down on his eyelids, but Adam fought hard against sleep. He didn't want to go to sleep. He was tired of sleep. He wanted. . . .

Randor awoke suddenly in the night and fumbled immediately for the viewer. Activating it, he looked to see how Adam was. He blinked in surprise at the view it showed him of the darkened infirmary room, the corner of his own bed visible in the image. Adam shifted in his sleep, hand going to Cringer's soft fur. Marlena slumbered on a cot in between the beds, and Teela was sleeping on the other side of Adam's bed. Randor considered this. If the device continued to work, he could keep much better track of his son in the future. Adam was always haring off into trouble. . . .

"Randor, what are you –" Duncan broke off in the middle of his low-voiced question. "Randor," he repeated reproachfully. "Adam's five feet away from you."

Shrugging sheepishly, the king said, "I know. It was automatic." Deactivating the viewer, he started to tuck it away.

Duncan grabbed it out of his hand. "You're not seriously thinking of continuing to use it, are you?" he asked, his voice grave.

Randor looked at the viewer in Duncan's grasp. "I thought it might be useful in keeping an eye on Adam. I could –"

"Invade the boy's privacy? Look in on him during odd times of the day just to see what he was up to?"

"Of course not!" Randor exclaimed. An eyebrow raised dubiously, Duncan tucked the little stone away in his own clothing. Randor grimaced at the lack of trust, but simply sighed and rolled over to go back to sleep.

The first thing Adam heard when he woke up was the sound of birds singing sweetly in the trees outside the window. He opened his eyes to the sunlight streaming in and smiled at the feel of it on his face. Cringer wasn't on the bed, but then he sometimes wasn't in the morning.

"Happy to be home, son?" Randor asked. Adam looked over and saw that his father was sitting up in bed, a tray across his knees. They were alone.

"Am I ever," Adam said. "Where do I get one of those?" he asked, gazing at his father's tray. Randor just pointed, and Adam saw that another tray of food sat on his bedside table.

They ate silently for awhile, and Adam was just glad to be with his father again. Slowly, though, he began to wonder about his father's injuries. Duncan had said that he'd suffered many of the same injuries as Adam himself had, but he'd been no more specific than that. He kept watching his father, looking for signs of stiffness. The sleeve of the king's pajamas pulled up and Adam noticed the bandage on the forearm.

"Father?" Randor looked up as his son spoke. He raised an eyebrow. "What did the weasel do to you? I know you've seen my injuries." Adam felt the heat in his face as he remembered how carefully both of his parents had watched the healers examine him. "What happened to you?"

"It doesn't really matter, Adam. He's gone and you're home. That's all that counts."

Adam looked down at his plate and pushed his food around with his fork. "It does matter. I need to know."

"Adam –"

"What? I need to know what he did to you, just like you needed to know what he did to me."

"That's different. I was – he had direct control over you."

Adam put his tray aside, and turned to sit cross-legged on the bed facing his father. "Are you saying that he had less control over you?" He gazed into his father's worried eyes, hoping his own worry showed. "According to Teela, you collapsed. She didn't know any details, but she knew that. According to Man-at-Arms, you have many of the same injuries I do."

"Duncan shouldn't have told you anything," Randor said, spearing a bit of sausage up from his plate in a violent gesture.

"Why not?" Adam asked in frustration. "I'm not a little boy any more, to be shielded from 'scary stuff.' I'm right here in the middle of scary stuff, and I need to know what's going on. You keep telling me I'm going to be king someday, and that I have a lot to learn, but how can I learn if you won't tell me anything?"

"Adam, I –" Randor broke off, appearing to be at a loss for words. Adam just waited. He'd never known his father to be tongue-tied for long. The silence stretched uncomfortably. Finally, the king sat up straighter and said, "You're right, Adam, there are many things you need to learn. Top of the list at the moment is that you should never antagonize your captor in such a situation."

Adam gave his father an incredulous look. "I don't plan on being in that kind of situation ever again! And besides, the first time I 'antagonized him' was when I tried to escape. Are you saying that I should just give in tamely and wait to be rescued?" Adam shook his head. "For all I knew, he was asking you to do something that wasn't even possible. He wasn't exactly rational."

"Adam, in your condition –"

"What condition? Which condition? Being sixteen? Being a coward? Being too impetuous? Or do you mean my broken legs?"

His father looked taken aback, mouth slightly open. "I meant your physical condition, Adam. Your convalescence."

Adam glared. "My condition would have been much better if I'd actually managed to escape when I first tried. And then there's you. What about your condition? You collapsed! Why? Nobody has told me why."

Unaccountably, his father seemed embarrassed. "Well, Adam, I – I – hadn't eaten much over the previous day or so, and –"

Adam's jaw dropped. "He starved you, too? How'd he manage that?"

Randor blinked. "Not exactly. I just didn't eat. Then –"

"Wait. What did you say?

"I just didn't eat. I couldn't, not knowing that you weren't getting anything."

Adam tilted his head. "Knowing? Or seeing? How much did you watch me?" His father's eyes widened, and he looked down at his plate. "Both the weasel and Man-at-Arms said that you had an enchanted viewer that allowed you to look in on me."

"When did the weasel say something?"

"When Skeletor had us in the Vine Jungle. He told Skeletor that you could see everything that happened. Was that all the time, or –" Adam watched as his father looked away, seeming somewhat embarrassed by the question. "Did you see everything?"

His father didn't look back at him. "Well, I had to sleep occasionally, and I sent the viewer with Stratos to the Sorceress to help us find you." Adam looked down at this hands, utterly horrified, and trying desperately to remember what he'd done and just what his father might have seen. "I'm sorry, son, but I had to watch. I had to know that you were all right – or at least as all right as you could be."

Adam took several deep breaths. "So, you didn't eat while he wasn't giving me food. Do you know how stupid that sounds?"

"It was my fault that he wasn't feeding you. And I had to watch as the empty plates were delivered."

"It wasn't your fault!" Adam exclaimed, head whipping up. "Nothing that happened was your fault."

"Adam, I –"

"If there's one thing that all this studying I've been doing lately has taught me it's how to recognize faulty reasoning," Adam said firmly. "You didn't put me in that situation, he did. You didn't stop feeding me, he did. You are not to blame. That's all part of what he did to you, making you feel responsible for his evil actions."

Randor was startled by Adam's vehemence, and his insight. He gazed at his son, feeling almost as if he didn't really know him. He knew a little boy who'd run about with a cowardly cat getting into scrapes, but he wasn't sure he knew this fledgling adult who sat before him. The boy was so full of contradictions that Randor was never certain what to expect.

"I really need to know what happened to you, Father. As your heir –"

Sighing, Randor waved a hand. "Enough, Adam. I'll tell you." He looked down at his half-eaten breakfast and set it aside with not a little disgust. "He seemed to enjoy making us match," he said, trying to keep his tone neutral. "I annoyed him when I demanded that he send you things to occupy your time. I threatened him, and he didn't like it. He caught hold of my arm and –" Randor shrugged, lifting the burned arm in mute explanation. Adam shuddered, his right hand creeping to the bandage covering his own burn. "Then he took you the things I'd gathered, and – and Dorgan and I were watching. We saw you try to escape, and we saw him retaliate." Randor gritted his teeth. "And that's when I collapsed."

"Oh," Adam said in a small voice. He looked withdrawn and quite young. It was hard to treat him like the man he wanted to be when he looked so very young.

Randor thought it wise to lighten the mood a little. "When I came to, Duncan was in the room, demanding to be told what was going on." He quirked a wry grin. "He gave me one of those little speeches of his – I'm sure you know the type – the ones in which he recapitulates everything that's wrong with the world in two sentences or less."

Adam snorted and nodded. "Oh yeah. I've experienced those a time or two. They usually end with something that explains why all of the above is your fault."

Randor nodded his agreement. "Exactly. Then you know what I'm talking about. It was quite a litany, too. Maybe later I can try to recount his list to you."

"That could be interesting. But what else happened? What else did the weasel do to you?"

Randor sighed. His son was very single-minded. Stubborn. Where did that trait come from? Randor wondered ironically. Must be from his mother. "He found out that Duncan knew, and that's when he sent that panther in to attack you."

"Oh, is that why? I had wondered. It seemed so bizarre. But, so did he do anything to you because of that? Besides make you watch it happen?"

"No."

"So, why did it take you so long to tell Man-at-Arms? I mean, I would have thought you'd go straight to him and the two of you would be working out a plan together."

Randor shook his head. "It wasn't possible."

His son sat back and crossed his arms, looking at him suspiciously. "Why wasn't it possible? What did he say? What did he do?" This was a moment when he could have wished Adam's perception was a little less clear. He realized that he was worrying at the bed covers and forced himself to stop fidgeting. "Father?"

"He told me that if I told anyone that he would cripple you permanently." Adam's eyes widened, and his expression grew distant suddenly. Randor wanted to call him back from wherever his thoughts had taken him. "I couldn't risk it, Adam."

"So he really was going to cut off my hand, wasn't he?"

"No, he was just going to cut of a finger or two." Randor realized abruptly how dreadful that sounded, but he couldn't call the words back.

Adam blinked several times, staring at his father. He looked down at his hand, seeming to be surprised to find that it had balled up into a fist. "Oh," he said, sounding a little lost. "That's all right, then."

"I'm sorry, Adam, that came out badly."

Adam looked up and gave a good try at a nonchalant shrug. "No, it's okay. So, what more did he do to you?" Randor opened his mouth to answer, but Adam's eyes grew suddenly alarmed. "He didn't do anything to Mother, did he?"

"No, no, your mother is fine. In fact, I sent her away to Avion."

"Oh, right. Good."

"I didn't see you get burned the second time. It happened the morning when I'd sent the viewer to the Sorceress. She and Stratos saw –"

"The Sorceress saw that?" Adam exclaimed in surprise. "And Stratos saw it, too?"

Randor nodded. "Yes. When Stratos described the incident to me, I sent your mother away to keep her out of reach."

"I'll bet that ticked the weasel off."

"He was – irritated. I was afraid he was going to go after you again, so I asked him if he wanted to give me a new handprint. I'm afraid he thought I was making fun of him, though."

"And you told me not to antagonize him."

"And so he threw me into a wall and burned me on the back." Adam scowled angrily, but the look in his eyes was sick. Randor wished passionately that he could take this innocent, sweet-natured boy and put him some where that evil people like Skeletor and that weasel would never find him.

Of course, locking his son up in a tower somewhere wasn't really the answer either.

"So, is there anything else?" Adam asked. Randor wished he could deny it, but Adam would probably be checking up on his story with Dorgan and Man-at-Arms. Dorgan was impossible to control, and Duncan might decide that Adam needed to know for his own good. It was better not to lie to the boy in any case.

"Yes. When I hit the wall, I suffered a concussion. Unfortunately, Dorgan didn't realize that I had a head wound and he medicated me." Adam's shocked eyes were glued to his face. "Apparently I had a bad reaction. According to Dorgan, um . . . I nearly died."

Adam looked appalled. He sat staring at nothing for several moments, and Randor wasn't sure what to say to him. "So," Adam said eventually in a deceptively calm voice. "So, what are we going to do with the monstrous man when we catch him?"

"Well, of course he will be tried. I'm not sure that I can legitimately sit in judgment over him, however. I suppose –"

"I wish Sy-Klone had just let him fall."

"Adam!"

"Well, that would be a simpler solution. No one would have to sit judgment on him. No one would have to make any sort of decision. He'd just be dead, and that would be that." Randor didn't know what to say. He despised that cretinous weasel for bringing out this feeling in his son. "Of course, then Sy-Klone might feel bad about not catching him, and that would be fair to him."

Adam was stunned. His father had almost died? He might have become king while still locked in that stupid box, and he wouldn't even have known it. The imposter might have become king. Now, that was a truly horrifying thought. The weasel deserved to – to – to – There wasn't anything bad enough that they could do.

His father looked furious. Adam looked down at his hands and tugged the sleeve of his shirt down to cover up the bandage on his wrist. "I'm sorry, Father. I know that's not the sort of thinking I should be doing. We don't –"

"No! Don't apologize, Adam." The words were quiet, but they were spoken with such force that they rocked Adam back. "Your thinking is fine. I really can't fault you for wanting that vile monster dead. I want him dead." Adam looked up at his father's face in shock. "Wanting things like that is natural at a time like this. We just have the choice not to do them, not to go out and make it happen that way." Randor gave him a wry grin. "I'm not worried that you'll do that, Adam." No doubt, since his father thought him a coward. "You wouldn't have chosen to let him fall." Adam raised his eyebrows, contemplating that thought. Attractive though it was, he didn't suppose he would have. "And you recognize that it would distress Sy-Klone if he'd accidentally failed to save the fellow." Randor shrugged. "I am confident that you would have made the right decision."

"So wishing that he fell isn't wrong – isn't, well, kind of evil?"

"No, Adam. Choosing to act on that wish would be evil, but, as I said, such thoughts are natural." Randor snorted. "Especially after what you've been through." His father's worried eyes lingered on Adam's face for a few seconds, and Adam looked down, unable to meet his gaze. "It's when we allow our less positive desires to rule our actions that we slip over the line."

Adam couldn't believe his ears. "But, Father, are you really saying that the biggest difference between good and evil is the choices people make?"

His father looked surprised. "Well, yes, Adam. We are defined by the choices we make. You can choose to act for the benefit of others, or to work only for your own selfish desires, or even to deliberately cause as much pain and suffering as possible." Adam had a feeling that he knew who his father was referring to. "I believe that the true evil in a man, or a woman for that matter, lies in their decision to act, not in their thoughts and desires."

"I never really thought about it that way." Adam tilted his head. "So, have you ever wanted to do something that would be, you know, um, well," Adam shrugged, "evil?"

His father blinked, and for a moment Adam thought he wouldn't answer. But then his eyes twinkled and he said, "Of course. Duncan and I have a running contest to see who can come up with the most creative way to do away with the self-proclaimed 'overlord of evil.'" Randor leaned closer and said in a quieter voice, "Your mother has even contributed on occasion."

Adam stared in shock. "Really?" He had difficulty imagining his mother participating in such a competition.

Randor chuckled. "Women tend to be very creative, I've noticed."

Adam nodded. "Yeah. Teela can be vicious. But, Mom. . .? It's hard to imagine. She so. . .nice. You know, like, sweet."

"Yes." Adam's father gazed at him with a sappy look on his face that he normally saved for Marlena. "You have a lot in common with your mother, Adam."

"What do you mean?" Adam asked suspiciously.

"You're a very sweet boy." Adam's jaw dropped, and he stared at his father for a long moment, unable to put two coherent words together. "You've always been soft-hearted."

"Father!" Adam exclaimed. "Please don't say that in front of anybody. Especially not Teela!"

"Adam, it's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Maybe not if you're a girl," Adam said dispiritedly.

His father shoved his covers aside, stood up, crossed the space between their beds and sat beside him, putting his arm around his shoulders. "Adam, there's nothing wrong with –"

"Maybe not, but you wouldn't say that, for instance, He-Man, was soft-hearted."

Randor looked curiously at him. "Actually, I would. He goes out of his way to help others, even when it causes him pain. Duncan told me he even once prevented Skeletor from plummeting to his death." Adam hung his head. He remembered that incident, when Skeletor had tricked him. "And Adam?" He squeezed Adam's shoulders and gave him a gentle shake. Adam looked up at him. "You don't have to compare yourself against He-Man. I've told you before, no one can measure up to his example."

"You can," Adam muttered. "You're strong, courageous, nearly as good a fighter as he is." He shrugged. "People look up to you."

Randor was touched to hear Adam compare him so favorably to Eternia's champion. "Thank you, Adam. But I'm not nearly as selfless as He-Man is. Have you ever noticed that he's never here when times are good?" He tousled Adam's hair, smiling at the glare his son gave him. "Besides, people look up to you."

"Yeah," Adam grumbled. "Four-year-olds."

"Now, Adam, other people look up to you." Randor wondered if he'd ever been quite this insecure. Perhaps he was too hard on the boy.

"Name one."

"Stratos." Adam's eyes widened and he seemed to be astonished by this notion. "He thinks very highly of you, that you're a good leader."

"When have I ever lead anything?" Adam asked skeptically.

"Perhaps you have not lead in battle thus far, but you notice when people are disheartened, when they need encouragement. Do not imagine that has gone unnoticed, my son. One of the traits of yours that I'm proudest of is your ability to alleviate the distress of your friends." Adam didn't respond, but he didn't seem very impressed by this comment. "Duncan, too, speaks well of you. And when you were rumored to be dead, many of the masters came to me and told me how important you were to them."

"I was dead. You don't say rotten things about dead people. Not to their parents, anyway."

Randor sighed. It was clear that nothing was going to get Adam out of this funk. "Well, Adam. I can tell you one thing."

"What's that?"

"I love you very much. Don't ever doubt that." Adam stiffened as he spoke, and turned his head to look at him sidelong. Randor shifted slightly so that he could look his son in the eyes. "I mean that, Adam. You and your mother are the most important people in my life."

His son looked back down at his hands and mumbled something that sounded like, "I love you, too." Randor squeezed him again, and Adam leaned against him. They sat there in companionable silence for a long while. When Adam began to snore, Randor started stroking his hair. Adam would never have put up with it if he'd been awake.

He didn't know how long they'd been sitting like that when he heard the door open behind him. He craned his neck to see who had entered. Marlena walked around and sat on the edge of the other bed. She smiled at them fondly. "This is nice to see," she said softly. Randor smiled back at her and relaxed, his hand still stroking his son's head.

"You'd be very pleased. We had a long talk. He's in kind of an emotional muddle, and I don't think I helped much. But we talked."

"I'm glad to hear it. Sixteen's a rotten age."

"Truly. But we all lived through it. He will, too."

The door opened again, but Marlena's eyes were welcoming, so Randor didn't twist round to try and see who had entered.

"I don't mean to interrupt," Stratos said. "I can make my report later."

"No, come in, good Stratos," Randor said. Marlena stood up and gestured for Stratos to take a seat, then she joined Randor on his other side where he put his arm around her. Looking somewhat ill at ease, Stratos sank down onto the bed opposite the royal family.

"Is he well?" the Avion asked, gazing at Adam.

"Yes. He's just sleeping."

"Ah. I'm very glad to hear that. He looks so –" he seemed to be searching for a word " – vulnerable."

Randor nodded, giving his sleeping son an affectionate look. "It's hard to remember that he's almost an adult when he looks so very young."

"He's just a boy," Marlena said in a voice full of protest. Randor turned and looked into her eyes. He could see that she knew she was fighting a losing battle.

"He's sixteen, Marlena. I was leading troops at that age."

"He's not an adult. And he shouldn't have to grow up so fast." She turned imploring eyes on her husband. "You surely don't want that for your son."

He was at a loss for words that would comfort her. Times being what they were, there was nothing he could say. "Of course not, Marlena, but we are at war."

"And war steals childhood," she said, her eyes dark pools of worry. "But unlike the rest of us, Adam didn't grow up in a world where war was common. Your father fought Count Marzo when we were children, and then Keldor nearly conquered the world when we were young adults. Adam has never known that way of life. You can't expect him to grow up all at once on his sixteenth birthday just because Keldor broke down that wall."

"No one expects that, your highness," Stratos said gently. Randor looked up in surprise. He'd almost forgotten the Avion's presence.

"Don't they?" Marlena asked. "Perhaps you don't, but I'm not sure that's true of others. Randor seems to think he should react in battle like a seasoned veteran, despite the fact that the only battles he knew anything about a year ago were stories."

The Avion stood. "Perhaps I should return later."

Randor waved him to his seat again. "No. I think this conversation should take place later, where Adam can't wake up and hear any of it." Marlena breathed in sharply, and turned anxious eyes on her son, who slumbered on peacefully.

"Very well," she said, giving Randor an uncompromising look. "We will continue later."

"You said you had a report, Stratos? The imposter?"

"I regret to say that he has escaped, your highness." Marlena stiffened, and Randor felt as if the Avion had delivered a blow straight to his gut.

"How?" he asked.

"Man-E-Monster was close on his trail, but the fellow proved canny. He swam for some distance down a river. Manny searched the banks of the river for a great distance on either side, but he could not discern the imposter's scent. And the river went through an area that seemed rife with ferrets. We saw several, and we captured them all, but Manny, Sy-Klone and I don't genuinely believe that any of them is the imposter."

"What have you done with them?"

"Turned them over to Man-at-Arms. He borrowed Cringer and is testing them against his nose." Randor's mind boggled at this image.

"I'm sorry to say that's all I have to report. We were out all night, so, unless you have other questions. . ."

"No, of course not. Please, go and get some rest."

Stratos stood, but paused as Marlena spoke. "Thank you, Stratos. We know you did your best."

"I only wish it could have been more." Thus saying, the Avion left. Marlena leaned her head on Randor's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, dear, I shouldn't have spoken so to you in front of Stratos," Marlena said quietly.

Randor shook his head and leaned his cheek against the top of her head. "Don't worry, Marlena. Of all the masters, Stratos is surely the most discreet."

"I know, but –"

"Sshhh."