Author's Notes: Okay, it's time to restate what I said in the notes for part one:
"Warning: Dang, I was hoping to avoid any warnings this time, but better safe than sorry. There is a scene in this story that depicts the severe corporal punishment of a child, which could be considered child abuse. This scene does not represent the parenting beliefs of the author, but was included to illustrate the societal beliefs of the fictional country in this tale. If you think such a scene will upset you, please do not read this story."
This chapter is the one that contains that material. I don't play nice with Billy…then again, I never do, do I? J Enjoy! And thanks for all the lovely comments, they are much appreciated, always!
PART EIGHT
"Jason, I'm curious about something," Tomas said as they rode slowly over a seemingly endless grassy plain. They were only a couple of hours from South East Onyx, soon they would be looking to set up a camp, eat a quick meal and get some much-needed sleep.
"What's that?" Jason replied.
"You said you 'had' to go after Will. It's obvious you two are long time friends. But, and I mean no offense by this, how did the son of a king become such good friends with an Outcaste? You have to admit, it's not the most likely of friendships."
Jason chuckled quietly. "I suppose not. But Will's not the most likely of Outcastes, either." He paused a moment, considering, before speaking again.
"My father, he's a real stickler for traditions. Especially when it comes to his sons, everything must be done properly. So, despite the fact it is a rather barbaric tradition, when I was eight years old I had to be assigned a whipping boy..."
~*~
"Okay, Son, gathered in the courtyard are boys who want a chance to be your whipping boy. Just as I did with your brothers, I'll allow you to make your choice. Just remember, Jason, to choose wisely. Whoever you choose will be your companion for the next few years, you want someone you can get along with," King Olscott counseled his youngest son, now just a few days past his eighth birthday.
The tradition of a whipping boy for princes was as old as their history, though not all the provinces still honored that tradition. But Olscott had had a whipping boy in his youth, a boy who had grown into the king's closest friend and confidante. Both his older sons had chosen whipping boys who had developed into friends as well, though his middle son's scapegoat had certainly had a harder time of it than Jacob's had.
Jacob, Olscott's eldest, the crown prince, had always been a responsible, almost solemn child, who rarely got into any trouble. Jarrod, the middle son, was a mischievous, irresponsible, charming boy who had given his parents more trouble than his brothers combined. Jason was a happy medium between his siblings, combining Jacob's sense of responsibility with Jarrod's joy for life.
"Father, is this really necessary?" Jason questioned again as they neared the door to the courtyard. The boy lacked the vocabulary to explain why it bothered him so much to think someone else could be hurt for what he did, all he could do was question why it was necessary.
"We've been over this before, Jason, and I won't argue with you any more. And, bear in mind, if you don't choose, I will choose one for you. Now, come on, Son," the king said, ushering his reluctant offspring into the courtyard.
Nearly thirty boys, all eight years old, milled around the enclosed area, laughing and teasing each other, many not really certain what exactly they were there for. Jason, shadowed by his father, began to mingle among them, stopping to talk to some, asking questions, getting a feel for each one. He had led a somewhat sheltered life so far; his main companions had been either his much older brothers, or servants, neither of which had really prepared him for interacting with other children.
After hearing a seemingly endless stream of 'your highness' and boasts of strength and bravery, Jason was heartily sick of the whole thing. None of the boys he'd spoken to seemed like anyone he'd want to be around, they all lacked something; though what that something was he couldn't have said. It was then that he spied the light haired boy standing alone in a quiet corner, waiting patiently.
"What is your name?" Jason asked.
"Will."
"Your parents' names?"
There was no answer to that question, and Jason was surprised to see a faint blush spread over the thin features of the other boy. Olscott noticed that the child wasn't quite as clean, nor as well dressed, as the others, and a sudden suspicion made him break into Jason's 'interview.'
"Show your caste brand, child," the king ordered.
Flushing darker, the boy exposed his unmarked shoulder, bringing a frown of displeasure to the king's brow. "How did you get in here?" he demanded.
"I slipped in when no one was looking, Sire," the child replied, looking up at the king's angry face with a desperate sort of courage.
"Do you understand the consequences of doing such a thing?"
"Yes, Sire."
"Then, why did you do it?" Olscott asked sternly, intrigued by the boy despite himself.
"I wanted a chance to get the position, Sire."
"Do you understand what being the whipping boy entails?"
"Yes, Sire. I would stand in to receive the prince's physical punishment when warranted, to protect the prince from possible damage during punishment."
"Normally the parents of the whipping boy receive the payments. That wouldn't happen for you, would it? So, you wouldn't be paid at all. So, why take this risk for no gain? What did you think you might get?" the king pursued.
"I heard the whipping boy was required to attend classes with the prince, to be available if the teacher needed to discipline him. I wanted a chance to take classes, even if it was only to listen," the child confessed, finally lowering his gaze.
King Olscott couldn't help but be touched by the boy's desire to learn, and the quiet courage he exhibited to stand his ground and speak honestly. He looked the thin boy over more carefully, noting that despite apparently being on his own, he'd tried to clean himself up, and his clothing, though a bit ragged, was clean and well mended. The King knew he had to have the boy removed, but the father in him felt a fleeting sorrow that any child should be reduced to such a life.
"What would this learning do for you, do you think?" he queried, a bit more gently than before.
"Maybe I could find a way to...not have to live this way...when I'm older," Will replied hesitantly, not really able to articulate what this knowledge would do for him, just knowing it would help.
Jason looked up at his father, startled by the sadness he saw in his dark eyes, not completely understanding the whole conversation, but knowing he liked Will better than any of the other boys he'd met. He was just opening his mouth to speak when his father signaled a guard to come over.
"Take this child to be punished, then have him taken back into town and left there," he ordered.
"But, Father, I choose Will," Jason piped up suddenly, his mind made up as soon as he saw the guard take the other boy's arm.
"Jason, he is not an acceptable choice. He's Outcaste, totally inappropriate for the position."
"But, you said it was my choice, my decision," Jason insisted with the stubbornness of childhood.
Olscott opened his mouth to deny his youngest son's request, when he realized he really had promised Jason just that. He couldn't go back on his word now, not if he wanted to teach his son anything about honoring one's promises. He looked again at his son's eyes, full of faith in his father's honesty, and the small boy who'd risked much for the faint chance at a better future, and knew he had no choice at all.
He turned again to the guard, who still held Will's arm. "Take him to be punished, for sneaking into the courtyard," he ordered, giving both boys a stern look. "Then to the house master and have him assigned a room in the slave quarters."
Jason squeezed his father's hand by way of thanks, and smiled encouragingly at Will, who looked a bit shocked that his plan had succeeded.
By the time a month had passed King Olscott had all but forgotten his son's constant companion came from an undesirable background. Jason's delighted teacher had reported that the prince was showing a marked improvement in all subjects, as well as being more attentive and willing in class. The sometimes-lonely little boy now had someone to share his days with, and the sound of children's laughter often filled the suite of rooms where Jason resided away from the 'public' areas of the castle.
Will blossomed slowly in Jason's presence, growing a little more open as he spent more time around the happy-natured prince. As the days grew into weeks, then months, then years the two boys continued their unlikely friendship, finding a way to make it encompass their vastly different destinies.
Not that it was a perfect paradise. Will was fortunate that Jason was for the most part a good, obedient son, and even when he did deserve punishment, it was never severe. As it was, half the times Will was punished he had managed to earn the punishment himself, almost always due to his insatiable curiosity, which often tempted him to explore things he had no business exploring.
If Will's downfall was his curiosity, then Jason's was his need to see that justice was done, and to protect others from harm. More than once he got into trouble for taking on other children when he saw them bullying other kids or mistreating animals. Though Olscott was secretly proud of his son's sense of honor, he was terrified it would be the lad's undoing.
This peaceful state of affairs lasted over four years, until the boys were twelve, when an event took place that would have a profound effect on both. That winter there was an attack on the castle by a desperate gang of thieves; they managed to steal the queen's jewelry, and the royal scepter, of all things. Four servants were injured in the robbery, one mortally wounded. The king ordered a search party to follow the gang, and Jason, with the confidence of a twelve-year-old requested permission to go with them. King Olscott absolutely forbade his son from going, and ordered the boy back to his rooms in a distracted manner. Jason, disappointed and nursing his injured pride, left the room without comment.
It was two hours later that the king sought out his son, only to find the boy missing. A frantic search of the castle failed to turn up Jason; and Will, who was found in his room quietly reading, honestly swore he had no idea where the prince had gone.
The next afternoon, when the triumphant search party returned, they brought back the gang of thieves and a disheveled, excited prince, who, it turned out, had been instrumental in predicting where the gang would be heading.
King Olscott was torn between relief in Jason's safe return, pride in the boy's contribution to the capture of the thieves, and anger that his son had blatantly disobeyed him. Deciding on all three he hugged his son to him, let his mother fuss over him a bit, then sent the boy to wait for him in the library, an ominous sign since that was where discipline always took place. Jason slunk to the large room without speaking to anyone, and sat down at the large table to await his father and consider what might be in store for him. His pleasure in the adventure he'd just enjoyed faded as he realized that he had never disobeyed his father like that before, and he felt a sinking chill in his stomach when he realized he'd probably worried both his parents terribly. As each minute crept by his worry and unhappiness continued to grow until he was sure he couldn't stand it any longer.
It was an hour before Jason's father arrived with his chief advisors, all of them obviously pleased the thieves had been caught. But his relief was short lived when his father approached him with an expression of cold anger on his face.
"Do you realize just how worried your mother and I have been, Jason?" he asked harshly.
"I'm sorry, Father," he said softly, yet still meeting his father's eyes. He was worried, and knew he was in trouble, but he loved his father and wasn't afraid of him.
"You're sorry? Jason, is there an excuse for what you did? Did you not understand me when I forbade you to go?"
"No, Sir, I understood."
"And, yet, you went, even knowing I'd forbidden you?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Why?"
Jason swallowed nervously, but it was not his nature to lie. "I wanted to help. You never let me go when there's trouble, and I knew I could be of use. And I was," he added the last very quietly indeed.
"I heard that you were helpful. But that in no way changes the fact that you did exactly what you were told not to do. Do you know why I forbade you to go?"
"Because it was dangerous," Jason replied. "But I was careful," he added.
"Jason, when you have been properly trained in the use of weapons, self defense, tracking, and all the other skills needed to be a hero, then, and only then, will you be allowed to go on such a search party. Until that time, you will obey me when I tell you that you cannot go. Right now I am more angry and disappointed in you than I have ever been in any of my sons. You will learn this lesson, Jason, and you will learn it well. Send for Jason's whipping boy," he concluded, turning to the servant by the door.
"Father, please. It wasn't Will's fault! Please," Jason gasped out, having forgotten it wasn't his place to bear the punishment for his misdeed. Though he'd seen Will disciplined over the last few years, it had never seemed a big deal, even Will tended to shrug it off, but this situation was far worse than any previous time.
"Jason! You will deport yourself in a manner appropriate to your position," his father barked out roughly.
The dark haired youth took a shuddering breath and pulled himself together, standing straight by his father's side as Will was brought in. The green eyes of the other boy sought out Jason, and an expression of relief passed over the wan face before he was led to the table he'd been punished on before. The housemaster, who administered punishment in Olscott's court, looked to his king for instructions.
"Breeches down, the strap, until I say to stop," was the terse order, which elicited a soft gasp of dismay form the boy at his side.
The horrible sound of the thick leather strap hitting Will's backside caused Jason to physically flinch, which he did at every strike thereafter, tears flowing down his face as his friend cried and screamed and writhed under the onslaught. The young prince balled his hands into fists and forced himself to remain silent and still, knowing full well if he attempted to interfere he'd only make it that much worse.
It was an eternity before King Olscott ended the torment. "Enough!" he finally declared, much to the relief of everyone in the room. Jason's body trembled with suppressed sobs, while Will's gasping cries filled the room. Turning to his son the king spoke more gently than he had since the boy's return. "Go to your room, Jason, until I come to get you."
Turning without a word, Jason walked woodenly out the door, barely hearing his father's orders to the housemaster to tend to Will. Once clear of the public area, Jason broke into a run, racing into his room to throw himself on his bed and release the sobs that were tearing him up inside. Muffling his cries with his pillow, he curled into a miserable ball, the bed shaking with the force of his grief. He fell asleep with tears slowly drying on his face, his breath still occasionally hitching with the aftermath.
It was early evening when Olscott woke his youngest son, gently rubbing the boy's shoulders until he roused from sleep.
"Jason, I wanted to talk to you," he said gently sitting on the edge of the bed and looking kindly at his child.
"Do you forgive me?" Jason asked, unable to contain the fear that had been topmost in his heart.
"Jason, you are my son, I'll always forgive you," the large man said, opening his arms to embrace the boy.
"Thank you," was the muffled response as Jason sought comfort from his father. For a time they sat like that, not king and prince, but father and son, relieved that an unpleasant event was finally behind them.
"Jason, I want you to know, I was proud of what they said about you, about how you acted, how you helped. My anger was because you put yourself in danger. I didn't forbid you from going to be mean, or because I thought you couldn't help, but to keep you safe. I love you far too much to lose you foolishly."
"I understand," Jason murmured, looking down and blushing faintly.
"It was a harsh lesson you learned today, and I'm sorry for that. Tell me, Jason, what did you learn?"
Jason considered the question carefully before answering. "I learned that I should do what you tell me to," he said with hint of a smile, which his father answered with a fond chuckle and quick hug. "I also learned that what I do will affect others around me, so I should consider that, too, before I act."
"I see," his father prompted him.
"I worried you and mom. And by me disobeying you, Will was punished. I hate that, Father. I know it's a tradition, but I hate that Will gets hurt for things I do. It's not fair," he stated, hitting his own leg in frustration.
"I know, Son. But, life is often unfair. By the fates, that sounded dumb when my father said it to me, and it still sounds dumb when I say it to you. But, it IS true. Now, enough lecture, huh? Your mother and brothers and I would like for you to join us for dinner," he said with mock formality, earning a tiny grin. "I think your mother would like to fuss over you a bit."
"Okay," Jason said, pulling away from his father a little.
"Why don't you wash your face, brush your hair, make yourself presentable. And, I think you have enough time to run down and check on Will, if you want to," the king told him kindly.
"Thank you, Father, I do."
Olscott stood up and gave Jason a final rough hug before leaving his son to clean up and prepare to face the family. The youth finished quickly, and all but ran the familiar route to Will's small room in the slave quarters. It wasn't until he stood in front of the closed door that Jason almost lost his nerve, wondering if Will would ever forgive him for what he'd done, for the pain he'd caused him.
He marshaled his courage and knocked, barely hearing the call to enter. He opened the door to find Will lying on his bed, on his stomach and covered by a light blanket. The blond was pale; his eyes still red rimmed and dull with pain.
"Will, I...I'm so sorry," Jason said, sitting down beside the bed so Will could see him without having to move.
"I thought you wouldn't come back," Will said hoarsely.
"Of course I'd come back. Why wouldn't I?" Jason asked with a frown.
"People do that sometimes. Even my mom did. Just left one day and never came back." Will's voice was sad, and somehow distant; oddly emotionless.
It was the first time Will had ever mentioned his parents to Jason, who had figured his friend didn't even remember them.
"I'm sorry. I promise, Will, I'll always come back, okay? And, I'll never do anything to get you hurt like that again. You have my word on it," Jason said seriously, putting his hand on Will's blanket covered shoulder.
It was a promise he had every intention of keeping...
~*~
"...and when I went to be trained when I was fourteen, Will was released from his position and moved to a hut outside the town. I returned a year later to find he was being abused regularly by the townspeople, so I helped him find that place in the woods. When I have a job that I think he could help with, he goes with me," Jason's voice trailed off as the consequences of this most recent time he invited Will along hit.
"He'll be okay," Trini tried to reassure Jason, laying a gentle hand on the strong forearm.
"God, I hope so," Jason muttered, his expression grim.
The others were silent, contemplating the story Jason had just told them, their earlier reactions to Will's caste, and their own limited exposure to Outcastes. Years of training and conditioning clashed with recent experiences, and each of the young adults had to find their own way to reconcile the two.
They found a suitable place to set up camp a short distance from the town, and after a quick, cold dinner they settled down to sleep, all of them nearly stumbling from exhaustion.
Tbc
