16 Punished
Warning: Physical violence in this chapter! If you are opposed, do not read on!
Far from the river the knights halted. The Woads had fallen behind and had eventually let them go.
They all dismounted and checked themselves for injuries. Apart from the three swimmers, no-one had taken more serious harm than a few scratches. Tristan's arm was bleeding profusely. Gaheris sported a wound on his thigh and Gawain had a cut on his forehead. The three naked knights had dried during the wild ride, but since their horses had been swimming, their clothes were just as soaked as Balan's were.
Lancelot and Agloval hurried to make a fire, while the other men shared some of their dry clothes with the swimmers. Bedivere ordered a shivering Balan to strip and wrapped the exhausted boy in Agravaine's cloak.
Dagonet tended to the swimmers' injuries.
"The wound is not deep. You'll be fine within a few days," Dagonet's deep voice told Tristan reassuringly. He stitched up the wound and bandaged the scout's arm.
Arthur told Bors and Brumear to keep watch and ordered Pelleas to check on the horses. Galahad eagerly made to follow his friend, but he was called back by Arthur and told to heat some water.
After taking care of Gaheris and Gawain, Dagonet came over to Balan.
"Have you been hurt?" the giant asked kindly.
Balan shook his head.
Dagonet quickly looked him over.
"Your lips are blue, you have to drink something hot," Dagonet insisted. He instructed Galahad to prepare some tea and started rubbing Balan with the borrowed cloak until the boy's skin was glowing red.
"Will Tristan be all right?" Balan asked Dagonet apprehensively.
"I'm fine," Tristan's deep voice answered. He sat down beside Balan and laid a comforting hand on the boy's head. Galahad brought them mugs filled with steaming tea and the two of them sat in silence for a while, watching as the other knights made a simple camp.
Bors returned from his watch duty to report and Bedivere rode out to take over for him. After speaking with Arthur, Bors came over to check on Balan. "Yeh ol righ' there, lad?" he rasped. He reached into his saddle bag and pulled out a leather pouch which was filled with strips of dried meat. "'Ere lad, eat," Bors said kindly. "'tis good ter eat after battle."
Balan felt content. He sat next to Tristan and let the bustle pass him by in a blur. He chewed his jerky and occasionally sipped from his tea. He drowsily stared into the fire and watched the heat create little wisps of vapour above his drying clothes.
The evening was still young when Gaheris and Gawain approached him.
"Balan," Gawain said ceremoniously. "Thank you for saving my life today."
"You risked your life to save us, boy," Gaheris added. "It was either very brave of you, or very stupid. But I am glad you did it anyway."
He reached out and grabbed Balan's hand.
"Don't call him stupid, ye ungrateful dog!" Bors barked. "Don't you listen to him, boy! I will drink to you tonight!" He raised his waterskin in the air. "Tonight in the tavern, we'll celebrate!"
The knights roared their approval.
Tristan said nothing. But when Balan looked up at him, Tristan nodded and silently expressed his gratitude. Balan smiled. "You saved my life as well," he whispered, causing the corners of Tristan's mouth to twitch upwards.
"Balan?"
Balan looked up.
"I'd like to have a word with you."
Arthur sat down on his other side.
Most of the knights were busy discussing the events of the day, arguing whether or not they should have noticed the Woads any sooner. Tristan and Balan had remained in the background, enjoying the arrival of slightly cooler air as evening progressed.
Arthur cleared his throat.
"Look at me, Balan," Arthur said kindly.
Balan turned to look directly into Arthur's eyes.
"What you did today was very brave," Arthur began. "You saved three lives and I sincerely thank you for your courage. When we get back to the fort I will make sure that you will be rewarded."
Balan nodded to indicate he was listening.
"Nevertheless, you disobeyed my order to return to us, Balan," Arthur continued.
His voice was kind and calm, but it had a serious undertone now.
"Balan, this is the worst thing a knight can do in battle. You will have to obey my orders. If all soldiers follow their own impulses while under attack, we might each as well fight the enemy alone! If we are to survive and gain victory, we will have to work as a team. I need to be able to trust you!"
Balan looked at Arthur incredulously. How could the Roman say such a thing? If he would have obeyed Arthur's order to return, Tristan, Gawain and Gaheris would have died!
He wondered if he could mention it. "Might I say something?" he hesitated.
Arthur smiled and nodded encouragingly.
"There was no time to wait for your orders," Balan began. "Nor to argue about it. I was the only one who could do it."
Arthur raised an eyebrow and looked at the boy questioningly. Tristan turned to listen, as he had not been there when Balan had left Arthur and the others.
"Three knights were in danger. Anyone crossing the river to help them could only take two extra horses without causing a delay," Balan explained. "With four knights and three horses to carry them, two knights would have to share on the way back. But horses cannot gallop at full speed if they have two grown knights on their back."
He looked up to see if Arthur understood.
"I am small and light and Tristan is not that heavy. We can ride together easily. Besides, by riding Tristan's horse and taking Gaheris' and Gawain's along, they each had their own weapons to fight with."
Arthur marvelled at the fast thinking the boy had done before galloping into the river. He had believed it an act of blind courage, but here the boy revealed a surprisingly intelligent side to himself.
He noticed that the knights had all gone quiet and were listening to their conversation now.
"Not only did this boy save three lives," Lancelot began. "Did you notice the way he handles a bow?"
The knights all started talking at once, praising Balan for the precision with which he had shot at least two dozen Woads, if you had to believe them. Balan knew that Tristan hadn't even had that many arrows in his quiver. But he chose to remain silent, too shy to contradict them.
"He also killed a Woad with Tristan's dagger!" Gawain added excitedly.
"And killed another with Tristan's long-knife!" Gaheris continued, beaming at the boy.
"And he nearly drowned in the river," Tristan's deep voice commented dryly, causing a storm of protest from Bors and the others.
"Enough!" Arthur called.
"Balan, I know that most of your brothers here will celebrate your bravery deep into the night. Already they exaggerate your achievements and I doubt that this will change before the next sunrise."
A few knights protested, but Arthur raised his hand for silence.
"As I said earlier, Balan, I am proud and grateful that you saved your brothers' lives. But I do not want the praise from the knights to lead you to believe that you can disobey my orders again in the future. When we return to the fort you will receive a moderate beating as punishment for your disobedience. I pray that it will prevent today's victory from going to your head."
A deafening silence was followed by a roar of protest from the knights, but Arthur did nothing to quiet them. He let them rage at him and answered their indignant and angry questions with remarkable patience.
"You want to punish him for saving my life?" Gaheris asked furiously.
"If he does it again, it might cost you your life," Arthur explained. "He will not be punished harshly. Just enough to serve as a reminder."
Arthur looked at Tristan, who nodded.
Tristan agreed with Arthur. The boy was talented and had already shown some promising character qualities. The last thing they needed was for Balan to become proud and lose his head. The boy was humble in nature and it was better to keep it that way. Tristan knew how too much praise at an early age could ruin young boys for the rest of their lives.
Balan, however, bit his lip. He clearly did not agree with his impending punishment. Tristan noticed the boy's blazing eyes and chuckled inwardly. He wasn't going to beat the boy hard. He would only let him feel it a little. Just enough to take him down a peg or two.
Balan felt his anger rising, but he stubbornly focused on breathing deeply, determined to keep his frustration hidden from the others. In his mind he had done nothing wrong. He had saved three lives! Was he to be punished for that?!
When the swimmers' clothes had dried, the knights broke up camp and returned to the fort. Nothing else happened to disturb their journey that evening.
Upon arrival, Tristan immediately urged Balan to the knights' quarters.
"The others will want to have you down in the tavern to celebrate," Tristan explained. "I will punish you first and then you can go."
Balan's anger flared up at once. "I will not be punished!" he spat as they entered their room.
"Yes you will, boy," Tristan said calmly. "Come!" He sat down on the edge of Balan's bed and reached out to pull the boy across his knee.
Horrified, Balan twisted from Tristan's grip and bolted for the door.
"Don't you dare run away, boy!" Tristan threatened.
Balan hesitated on the threshold. He knew full well what this tone of voice meant.
"Close the door!"
Muttering curses under his breath, Balan forced himself to close the door. But when the latch clicked back into place he did not return to Tristan. He positioned himself on the opposite side of the room and glared at the scout.
"You will not take me across your knee!" he said angrily. "Hit me with your belt if you want, but I will not go across your knee!"
Tristan shook his head.
"I will take you across my knee. This punishment is not meant to hurt you. I am not hitting you with my belt."
"I am not a baby!" Balan spat.
"Then stop acting like one," Tristan observed. "Come and get your punishment like a big boy, then."
When Balan didn't move, Tristan stood up and dragged the obstinate boy to the bed.
"I know that you saved my life, boy. But you still have to obey me."
Balan resisted like a pig faced with its butcher. Aided by Tristan's injury, he nearly managed to free himself from the scout's grip and he kicked Tristan's legs hard.
"Your breeches will come down for that," Tristan stated unrelentingly, pulling the boy across his knee.
"No!" yelled Balan, struggling to break free.
Tristan trapped Balan's legs between his own and pushed the boy's head down to the ground.
"Stop!" protested Balan as Tristan tugged at his breeches.
"Thank yourself for that," replied Tristan gruffly. "If you don't like having your buttocks exposed, you should heed me!"
Tristan shook his head in disbelief. He had seen no indication that the boy felt uncomfortable with nudity while they had been swimming in the river. Apparently the matter changed drastically for the boy if he was to receive a thrashing.
Balan furiously tried to bite Tristan's leg, but Tristan's reflexes were excellent. He seized a handful of Balan's hair and yanked him away.
"I did not plan to hit you hard, boy," Tristan growled. "But now I will give it to you."
Balan swallowed. He had heard the dangerous undertone in Tristan's voice. Suddenly he wished that he had simply taken his mild punishment when it had been offered.
Tristan reached for Balan's wooden practice sword and whacked it down on the boy's buttocks with force. The boy's head shot up and he cried out in pain.
"Not so hard!" Balan begged.
"Only minutes ago you asked me to use my belt on you. Stop complaining!" Tristan admonished.
He kept hitting the boy hard with the sword, ignoring the desperate pleas and protests from Balan. The boy had to learn not to bite him! And he was not willing to tolerate such a fuss either. When he finished, the boy lay limply across his lap and cried.
"Get up, boy," Tristan urged.
Balan slid from Tristan's lap and pulled up his breeches with a deeply ashamed look in his eyes. As soon as Tristan stood up from the bed, he hid himself under his blankets.
"You may want to calm down and wash your face," Tristan suggested. "The others are waiting for you in the tavern."
"I'm not coming," Balan muttered.
Tristan chuckled and waited for the boy to calm down.
"Come, boy," he repeated kindly after a few minutes.
"I'm not coming!" Balan yelled from under his blankets.
Tristan pulled the blankets aside and pulled Balan to his feet.
"Listen, Bors is waiting for you. He wants to celebrate. You don't want to disappoint him."
Balan glared into Tristan's eyes.
"I'm not coming!" he repeated angrily.
Tristan shrugged. "Suit yourself then. I have warned you."
And with these words Tristan left the room.