Chapter 37 | The Queen Who Ruled by Herself

Ready or Not

Early Paggday morning, Temmin skipped his ride and instead reported to the training salon. He changed into a pair of drawstring sparring trousers and padded barefoot off to the room where Fen awaited him, his freckled skin already gleaming with sweat. "I hear you think you have something to teach me these days," said Temmin without preamble.

The redhead grinned. "I've had plenty to teach you all along, your highness."

"You're both a pair of fatheads with nothing to teach anyone!" barked an unfamiliar voice. Fen immediately straightened up and bowed toward the door; Temmin turned toward the voice, and found it belonged to a stockily built little man who didn't even clear Temmin's shoulder. He had short, prickly black hair that stood up all over like a currying brush, hard, dark eyes, and olive skin creased with lines around his eyes; he must have been at least as old as Jenks, thought Temmin. His chest was nearly hairless, and he leaned on a staff. "Bow, you idiot!"

"I beg your pardon?" said Temmin, taken aback. "I'm sure I'm not used to being spoken to like--"

The staff whizzed through the air and smacked him on the back of his head. "I said bow, royal idiot!" Temmin bowed, rubbing the back of his head. "Introduce me, redheaded idiot!"

"Your highness," murmured Fen, "please allow me to introduce Brother Imbert of the Temple of Farr. Brother Imbert, this is his highness Prince Temmin."

"I know very well who he is, redheaded idiot! You! Royal idiot! Stop rubbing your head and stand up straight and let me look at you!" Temmin hastily straightened out of his bow. Brother Imbert slowly looked him up and down. "Off with the trousers!"

"What?!" said Temmin, but hastily reached for the drawstring when Imbert made a slight gesture towards his head with the staff; he let his trousers fall in a heap around his ankles.

Imbert looked him up and down again. "Good legs, strong butt. Horse rider?" Temmin nodded, afraid to say the wrong thing. "Mm. Put your trousers back on! Not much definition in the chest and belly, flabby arms," he said, poking Temmin with the butt of his staff. "But we'll fix that! Redheaded idiot! Show the royal idiot how we fix that!"

"Yes, Brother Imbert!" shouted Fen.

Two hours later, Imbert was gone and the two young men were lying on the mats gasping like landed fish. "Mother Amma," groaned Temmin. "I'm not sure I can move. Is this what you've been doing the last week?"

"Since I saw you last, yes," said Fen between huffs. "Mister Jenks said if I really wanted to do this that I had to go into serious training, and he hustled me off to the Brothers. It gets easier, or it was getting easier. He's not taking it slow with you. This is right up against what I'm able to do and I've been at it a bit longer."

"I'm not exactly a weakling, you know," groused Temmin. "What I don't understand is how he left here without so much as sweating. He kept up with us every step, every punch, every chin-up! And he has to be as old as my father!"

"Older," said Fen, finally getting up and walking to the towel rack. "I think he's around 60."

"Sixty?!" said Temmin, catching the towel Fen threw to him. "You can't be serious!"

Fen shrugged, running the towel over his body. "That's just what I've heard around the guard room. The rumor is, his father was a Sairish sailor and his mother was a Pau'an warrior woman who taught him all this secret fighting society stuff. I believe it, myself. First time I went to the Temple, I watched him take down 20 postulants by himself like that--" he snapped his fingers. "And then he whacked them all on the back of the head with that staff and called them idiots. I decided right then I wasn't gonna be an idiot if I could help it, but no luck."

"Yes, well, you now have a fellow idiot if it's any consolation," grinned the prince.

Temmin decided he couldn't go back to the Keep in his current condition and hosed down in the guard baths with Fen. The few guardsmen in the baths looked twice, not quite believing their eyes that the Heir was sitting naked on a stool dumping water from a bucket over his head.

"So, Fen," said Temmin as he scrubbed, "you said once you thought about becoming a soldier. Were you planning on postulancy at the Warrior's Temple?"

Fen snorted water out of his nose. "Not hardly. I like girls too much. Never was much for other boys. I was planning on dedicating, sure, and even thought about lay brotherhood, but never becoming a Brother. 'Specially after Arta."

"How is Arta?" asked Temmin cautiously. "I haven't seen her in a while."

"Oh, Arta's fine," said Fen cheerfully. "I'll have enough saved for our promise rings in another couple of spokes!"

Temmin stood up and towelled off his hair. "I thought you already had enough for your rings."

"Oh," said Fen, a shadow crossing his face. "Yeh. Well--a family emergency came up."

"Fen," said Temmin, wrapping the towel around his waist, "would you let me pay for your promise rings? Please?"

Fen looked up, his blue eyes wide in his freckled face. "What?"

"Let me rephrase that," said Temmin firmly. "As Heir of Tremont, I hereby announce that I am giving you the money for your promise rings. You cannot say 'no.'"

Fen stood up. "You're serious."

"Quite."

Fen cocked his head, then smiled. "I don't have a choice, eh? Well, all right, thank you, your highness! Arta will be thrilled!"

"You are both my friends, Fen," said Temmin, shaking his hand. "I told her once I don't have many friends here, and that's the truth. I really want to do this for you both. Pick out what you want and I'll pay the bill."

"Thank you," said Fen, his smile wide.

"One question, though."

"Yes?" said Fen, suddenly wary.

"You wouldn't be related to the Duke of Valmouth, would you?"

"The Duke of--" Fen turned pale under his freckles. "Why do you ask? Have you heard something about my family and Valmouth?"

Temmin studied him. "Just that in the time of Ilhovin the Peacemaker, Valmouth's family name was Wallek, the same as yours."

"Oh," said Fen, relaxing a bit. "I wouldn't think so. My great-grandad used to talk about how some kind of royal favor was taken away from our family centuries ago, but he wasn't right in the head by then and no one paid much attention. And I was little when he passed."

"Huh. Just curious, that's all," said Temmin, wondering what nerve he'd accidentally touched in Fen.

"I asked Fen today about being related to the Duke of Valmouth," said Temmin to the Teacher after breakfast.

"Oh?" replied Teacher. "What did he say?"

"He said he didn't know, but the whole thing seemed to make him very nervous."

"Ah," said Teacher. "You do know that the current Duke of Valmouth is not a Wallek, yes?"

"Well, yes, of course. His family name is Fell."

"Just so. Shall we continue?" said Teacher. Temmin opened the book.

"The Battle of Agrin Fields, then," said Temmin, once he'd come back into the study completely. "Another instance where Master Harms said the accounts were unreliable."

"The book is most reliable, I assure you," said the Teacher.

"Oh, I believe it," said Temmin, whose ears still rang from the cheers of Ilhovin's army.