The Angry Boy Chapter 6
The investiture of Kensie Poldara as Baron of Bransat took place on the seventh day of Corn Moon, Kensie's twelfth birthday. The event was attended by all of Count Poldara's vassal lords and numerous nobles from neighboring fiefs. Many of the assembled nobles personally disapproved of the premature elevation of the boy, but held their peace in the interest of smooth relations.
Despite his new title, Kensie would not have a vote in the Assembly of Nobles until he reached his majority at the age of eighteen. Exceptions could be made for those under eighteen who distinguished themselves through deeds of valor or other conspicuous service to Valdemar. The last such exception had been in the reign of King Roald nearly fifty years ago.
The ceremony was conducted in the Temple of the Twain, which was the largest of Bransat's temples. Other than the nobles, only the Priests of the local temples and the Reeve, one Eouard Dane, and Council of Bransat were permitted to witness the actual investiture. The Reeve and Council were present only because they performed the acts of obeisance on behalf of the town and barony; otherwise, they were ignored.
The rest of the commoners waited in the town square before the temple. Once the new Baron emerged from the temple, they knelt as required while Count Wyeth formally proclaimed his son and heir. Bredin knelt with his family, though he gritted his teeth as he did so.
The Ashkevron war stallion was brought forward and given to Kensie as his birthday gift from his father. The magnificent liver chestnut's coat was polished to a gloss that highlighted the taut muscles. It curvetted and pranced on strong, clean legs. Even to those who were not horsemen, it was obvious that the beast was very special. As it had done the day Master Tanner had brought it to Enro's shop, it fought the horsemaster and attempted to kick and strike in all directions.
The young lord feigned surprise at the gift – as though he had not spied when it was brought to Enro's shop – and gave effusive thanks to his father.
Next, Enro came forward with the saddle, which was formally the gift of Kensie's mother. Enro had finished the saddle barely candlemarks before the ceremony, hammering in the last silver bosses as the sun rose. The soft leather of the seat blended seamlessly with the tougher leather of the skirt and flaps. The stitching was perfectly even, following the lines of the joins invisibly. Enro's tooling incorporated the hart and oak leaf sigil of Poldara with the wheat sheaf symbol of the Barony of Bransat. The decoration emphasized the high quality of the leather, which was stained to an even dark brown, matching the stallion's coat.
Again, Kensie made a show of surprise and pleasure, this time thanking his mother with equally effusive thanks.
Kensie's brothers and sisters presented him with a saddle cloth and barding in the red and silver colors of Poldara. The barding was made of silk and had been ordered from the renowned Chitward cloth merchants in Haven.
The horse fidgeted while it was saddled despite being tightly restrained by Chase Tanner, the Count's horsemaster. When Kensie came forward and stood at the beast's head, it quieted and relaxed under his hands.
With the saddling and bridling were complete and the barding was fastened in place, the noble guests came forward to congratulate the new Baron. Kensie basked in the praise that the noble guests lavished on him. He swelled with pride as they expressed their admiration for the stallion. In keeping with the occasion, both the praise and the admiration were fulsome, though those familiar with Court politics might suspect that the admiration for the horse was more genuine that the praise for its new owner.
Once the guests had made their compliments, the new Baron of Bransat publicly named the stallion "Blood" before he mounted the horse – with a leg up from the horsemaster – to lead the procession through town and back to the manor house, where the noble guests would be feasted and entertained. Count Wyeth had declared the day a holiday for the town, but had not laid on any food or entertainment for the commoners.
The stallion stood quietly as Kensie saluted his father and mother. Kensie took the reins in his left hand and turned the horse in a neat pirouette while he waved to the assembled nobles and commoners, who cheered his bravura display. The horsemaster cringed inwardly, fearing the beast would spook or bolt or otherwise fight its rider. Instead, it stopped squarely facing Count Wyeth and Lady Lora.
Kensie bowed deeply to his parents from the saddle. "Thank you to my honorable mother and father on this glorious day." He said.
Count Wyeth grinned back at his son. "Today is your day, my son. Lead on!" He gestured in the direction of the street leading to the manor house.
Kensie bowed once more to his father and mother before pivoting the horse forward. Blood went into a slow, elevated trot as Kensie led the procession to Bransat House.
As soon as the procession had passed, the townspeople dispersed to enjoy the 'holiday'. Most of the shopkeepers and merchants would have preferred to return to their regular occupations, but did not wish to earn the Count's disapproval if he heard that they had done so.
The town returned to its regular routine the next day. The nobles gathered at the manor would stay for several more days before taking their leave at the appropriate time: Too prompt a departure would signal disrespect to the Count and his son; lingering too long would seem obsequious. Several of the nobles came into the town for either idle amusement or to make casual purchases.
For Enro Kase, the commission for the saddle provided the recognition he desired. A dozen nobles came into his shop to have saddles made for themselves. Enro took careful measurements of his customers and their horses to ensure a proper fit. By the third day after the investiture, Enro was in high good humor over the flood of commissions.
Enro's self-satisfaction reached a peak when Count Wyeth came to the shop to commission two saddles for himself – one for his destrier and one for his palfrey.
Father Toma, who had watched Enro's swelling pride, decided to put his plan concerning Bredin into action. He entered Enro's shop just as the Count left.
After a brief exchange of passing courtesies with the Count, Father Toma turned to Enro. Looking grave, he said "I am glad to see your craft and skill is getting the recognition it deserves, Master Kase. You will obviously be hard pressed to deal with such a demand for your work."
"Aye, Father." Enro replied. He was still grinning broadly. "There is much to do, but I will see it done. What brings you here?"
"Only my regular visit to the parents of the students at the Temple school." Father Toma prevaricated only slightly; he did visit all of the parents regularly and the Kase household was long overdue for a call. "I've been remiss in visiting you. Asen has done well; he should be ready for his journeyman work with you when he finishes with the school next year." In the corner where Asen worked, Father Toma saw the eldest of Enro's sons smile and puff himself as he cut leather for his father, pretending he was not listening.
"Your other two boys have made good progress, too. Bredin in particular is far in advance of his yearmates in his studies. He could be a real scholar. However, with so much to do, I am sure you will need his skills in your shop."
Enro's face darkened as Father Toma spoke. At the last, his grin turned to an ugly grimace. "I swore I would never allow that little demon in my shop again. He can seek an apprenticeship somewhere else - if anyone will have him, that is."
Though inwardly dismayed at how a father could be so dismissive of his own son, Father Toma allowed none of his distaste to show. Instead he nodded gravely and said "That is my concern, Master Kase. With his quick temper, it will be difficult for him to find a proper apprenticeship. He needs a firm hand and steady trade to make his way in the world."
Enro eyed the priest suspiciously. "I do not think that is a concern of yours, sir." His voice was cold.
"I care about all my students, Master Kase. As his father, I would assume you care about all your sons."
Enro Kase flushed, but stared back at the priest. "I cared for him and he broke his brother's arm, nearly costing me an important position to boot. I'll not cast him out to starve, but I will not bring him into my shop again."
"Surely you do not want to send Bredin into the world without a trade?" Father Toma said.
Enro twisted his face. "I will think about that when I have time. For now, I have a great deal of business to attend to. I will thank you to go about your business and leave me to mine."
Father Toma ignored the implied dismissal. "Surely you do not want him to be idle, Master Enro. Is there not some task you can set for him, some purpose you can find? Bransat has too many idle youngsters already."
Enro's anger rose. "I said I will not have him back in my shop. That will not change, priest. If you are so concerned, make a monk out of him. Then he won't be idle!"
Father Toma had hoped Enro would offer the boy to the Temple, but he wanted Enro to put himself in a position from which he would not back down. From experience, he knew that, if Enro declared something flatly, the saddler's pride and stubbornness would prevent him from changing his mind at a later time.
"We do not take acolytes until they reach their twelfth birthday, Master Kase, so that is not possible. When he reaches that age, I would be pleased to consider him. For now, he needs proper training and supervision." The priest adopted a prim tone calculated to enrage Enro.
Enro snarled. "I've seen boys younger than twelve at your drills."
"A few merchants have their sons do extra training, but they take no vows and do not stay in the cloister." Father Toma did not add that the boys were generally the younger sons who did not fit in with their parents' trade or for whom there was no inheritance. Each amicus, as such boys were called, was there because his parents wanted their extra children to get some training, either in arms or scholarship that would allow the boy to find his own way.
"So take Bredin, then. I'll not be needing him." Enro stared at the priest. "Lessen you want a fee. I'll not pay for it."
"Please Master Enro. Consider your son. I know he is an able leatherworker and wants to follow you in your trade…"
"I said you can have him!" Enro shouted. "Take him if you want him, but he has no place in my shop! I'll not pay you, but you can take him."
As Enro raged at Father Toma, the latter could hear the sound of someone running off. A boy, from the lightness of the steps. Inwardly, Father Toma prayed that Bredin had not been listening at the door.
Looking grave, Father Toma sighed. "If that is your wish, I will see that Bredin gets extra training. There is no fee. Our Order is supported by the work of our monks."
"Just see that he does not come into my shop." Enro said. "Now, I must get back to work. Good day, Father."
"Good day, Master Enro." The priest bowed himself out.
Emerging into the street, Toma spotted one of Bredin's friends. "Tagan, have you seen Bredin?" He asked.
Tag nodded and pointed down the street in the direction of the High Road. "He went running that way, towards the river, Father."
The priest thanked Tag and walked off the way Bredin had gone.
Bredin ran until he reached his reading spot by the river. He sat on the log and cried for a quarter candlemark until he heard the noise of someone coming. From the sound, it was Kensie and his friends. Bredin hid himself in the bushes by the road.
Bredin watched as Kensie and his friend trotted by.
Kensie rode Blood; the stallion danced lightly under him. The young lord stroked the horse's neck and praised it as it moved willingly forward. Kensie circled around, inviting his coterie to praise the stud. The others did so dutifully, though Bredin thought they looked a little bored with the subject.
As they moved by and continued down the road, Bredin wished that the stallion would throw its rider. The beast, however, appeared happy and did no such thing.
No sooner had the young nobles disappeared than Father Toma marched briskly around the bend to the spot where Bredin usually sat. Bredin remained in his hiding place.
Father Toma stood by the log for a moment, looking up and down the road. He bent and examined the dirt at his feet. With his finger, he traced out a small footprint pointed towards the road. The priest stared in the direction Kensie and his group had gone. Bredin would not have wanted to meet his tormentor; the boy would have hidden.
As the priest looked towards the woods, the chiming of a Companion's hooves drew his attention. A Herald and Companion appeared from the direction of Poldara.
Herald Leo was in high good humor. He and his Companion Jaracin were on their way home from their circuit, which had gone exceptionally well. Eager to get back to the Collegium, Leo and Jaracin agreed they would press on tonight. They would reach the Collegium well before midnight, but probably after the other Heralds had gone to bed. To pass the time, Leo and Jaracin were playing the riddle game.
::What sings without a voice, races without legs and soars without wings?:: Jaracin said. ::Too easy, Chosen. A heart.::
Before Jaracin could ask her riddle, Leo spotted Father Toma looking anxiously at him. Jaracin stopped in an easy halt. "How may I help you, Father?" Leo asked.
::I think what the priest wants is hiding over there.:: Jaracin nodded her head in the direction of the bush hiding Bredin.
As Father Toma opened his mouth, Leo held up his hand. "I think Jaracin has found what you seek."
The Companion paced over to where Bredin hid. Seeing he was caught, Bredin sighed and stood.
Leo saw the tracks of tears on the boy's face. "Come down, lad. Tell me what is wrong.'
Bredin jumped down to the road. Jaracin nuzzled him, then put her head over his shoulder, 'hugging' Bredin to her chest.
Bredin wrapped his arms around the Companion and wept into her neck. "Papa hates me. He wants to send me away." Bredin said through his tears.
Leo sighed. It looked like he would be getting home later than he thought. The Herald dismounted. Taking Bredin by the hand, he led him back over to the log. Sitting Bredin down, Leo sat beside him. Father Toma sat on Bredin's other side. Jaracin stood behind them.
"Your father does not hate you, Bredin." Father Toma began. "But he is a proud and angry man. His pride makes him hold on to his anger when others would have forgotten it."
Patiently, Leo questioned the boy and the priest for half a candlemark. Jaracin added her own observations privately to her Chosen.
Several travellers passed on the road. They looked at the odd foursome, but kept on their own way.
At the end, Leo sat silently for a moment. "Bredin, you cannot run away from your troubles." He said. "I do not know if your father will ever relent, but trying to run away will only make things worse.
"The streets near Exile's Gate are filled with children who have fled their homes. Many of them fled homes far worse than yours. I can tell you that what they fled is nothing compared to the misery they found."
Something about the way Leo said the last made Bredin shudder.
"Father Toma is offering you a chance to study other things. Those studies could open paths for you that go far beyond your father's shop and Bransat. They could take you to Haven and to the farthest corners of Valdemar. They could take you to other countries and to fame and fortune. You could be a scholar, a soldier, a merchant or a major-domo of a great estate." Leo did not mention Jaracin's suspicions, which were far too tentative at Bredin's early age.
Bredin gulped and nodded. He stared at Leo, who saw in the boy's eyes what he really wanted. Leo said nothing, not wanting to raise hopes that might not be fulfilled. That lay with the Companions.
"Come home with me." Father Toma said. "If you have the courage to face what comes, I will be there to help you. I think we can see this through."
He stood and offered his hand to Bredin, who took it. The two said goodbye to Herald Leo. Bredin also bowed and said goodbye to Jaracin, who blew a soft breath in his face.
Leo and Jaracin watched the two walk away. As Leo turned to mount, he heard the boy's voice drift back. "Do you think I could be a Herald, Father?"
"Maybe you can, little brother." Leo said too softly for the boy to hear. "But only gods and white horses know the answer." Jaracin whipped her head around and nipped Leo in the buttock.
Leo laughed and swung up on his Companion's back. "Come on, white nag. Think we can still make the Collegium before midnight?"
Jaracin bucked lightly, then leaped into a gallop. ::What has wings but never flies, stories but never tells and feet but never walks?:: She asked as they rounded the bend.