Chapter 26 | The Tale of Two Kingdoms

Dukes and Princes

It was another splendid early morning in the King's Woods. Mist hung in the little valleys among the foothills of the Three Mountains as Jebby cantered through clearings and copses with Temmin on his back. Temmin's mind still thrummed with happy thoughts of his visit to the Temple, plans to get back there as soon as possible, and not much else, and the horse took his mood, taking fences without so much as a stutter in his stride.

It was in this pleasant frame of mind that Temmin noticed a movement on the path up ahead under the canopy of trees, not far from where he'd found Arta crying a week ago. At first he thought it might be a deer, but as he approached, the figure moved toward him, not away from him.

It was a man. Temmin pulled up, hesitating. A single man alone in the King's Woods could mean anything--a poacher, perhaps, or maybe it was one of the Travelers. The man's hair was red; was it that Traveler he saw with Sedra? He approached at a cautious walk.

"Aye, you'd better be careful!" cried the man in a familiar, though drunken, voice. "Fuckin' coward!"

Temmin started back in his saddle in surprise. "Fen?" he called tentatively. It was the young footman, Arta's sweetheart. "That's your name, isn't it?"

"Get down off that horse and I'll make you remember my name, you asshole!"

"What's amiss?" said Temmin in confusion.

"What's amiss?!" yelled Fen. "My girl's amiss! My life's amiss!" He waved a piece of white cloth at Temmin like a little flag. "I'll fuckin' beat the crap out of you! Get down offa that damn horse!" Fen took a few weaving steps toward Jebby. He was a calm horse by nature, but this redheaded stranger was acting in a manner he did not like, and he could feel his beloved rider's tension besides. The big chestnut stepped back nervously, snorting a little. "Yeh," he jeered, "even your horse is a coward. Come down and fight me, you beardless shit!" He made a wild, swinging grab for Jebby's bridle, though he was nowhere near close enough, and Jebby took great exception; before Temmin could pull Jebby around, the gelding reared, pawed the air and struck Fen a glancing blow on the shoulder. The young footmen went down like a bag of bones.

"Fen!" cried Temmin. He wheeled Jebby round, moved off a short distance and dismounted. "Stay put!" he told the unrepentent horse sternly. He ran back to where Fen lay groaning. "How badly are you hurt?" said Temmin, crouching down.

"You--" Fen suddenly turned and vomited, choking and retching until his stomach had to have been empty. He flopped onto his back, sweaty and pale. "Owtch!" he moaned, clutching his left shoulder. "No matter, I'll pound you into paste with just my right, mama's boy!"

"You're drunker than Farr!" exclaimed Temmin. "Let me look at your shoulder. Come on, you can fight me when you're healed up, let me see!"

"Promise?"

"Name the place and time."

"Right, then," said Fen shakily, and he stopped slapping at Temmin's hands. He smelled heavily of cheap spirits; as Temmin opened the young footman's jacket, a little metal flask fell out. Temmin pocketed it and kept undoing clothes until he could uncover Fen's shoulder. A very deep, large bruise was already forming, but as Temmin gingerly poked at the shoulder and moved the arm, it became clear nothing was broken. Temmin helped him sit up. " 'S nothin'," slurred Fen, "we can fight right now if you'd like. OW!" He cradled his left arm and grew very pale again.

"I'd rather not fight you at all," Temmin replied, "let alone fight you when you're drunk and injured."

Fen burst into tears, snotty, sobbing tears. Temmin took the little white cloth from Fen's hand; it turned out, as he'd thought, to be a handkerchief, and Temmin moved to wipe the drunken young man's nose for him. "Hang on, this is one of my handkerchiefs! What are you doing with it?"

"Yeh, what was Arta doin' with it!" sobbed poor drunken Fen. "That's what I came to find out! You fuckin' bastard! Any girl in the kingdom--the Lovers' Embodiments, for Pagg's sake!--and you want my Arta!"

Temmin gawped and sat back on his haunches. "Is that what this is about?! Fen, I don't want your Arta! I didn't lay a hand on her--well, not much of a hand, and besides, you broke it off with her!"

"So you admit it!" howled Fen. "You pawed her!"

"Pawed? I admit nothing of the kind!" said Temmin, angrily jumping up. "And d'you know, I could beat you senseless for having pretensions to my sister, from what Arta tells me!"

"Your sister's the one who got Arta to tell me about you!" said Fen, still crying. He snatched the disputed handkerchief from Temmin and began noisily blowing his nose and wiping his eyes. "I'd never--I didn't--I just got so mad at her!"

"At Ellika? We're agreed in that," said Temmin, running his hand through his hair as he paced. Ellika's marks were all over this, he thought angrily.

"No, no, at Arta! Oh, I could never be mad at your sister, she's like--being around her is like being around a goddess, you know?" Fen stopped crying. "She's so beautiful and sweet, otherworldly-like."

"Otherworldly?" said Temmin, stopping his pacing to stare down at the miserable footman. "Elly?! You wouldn't say that if she was your sister."

Fen was paying no attention. "The princess asks me to do something, I just can't say no, but Arta, she can't understand that." He sniffled again and wiped his nose; he suddenly looked very young, even to Temmin. "I suppose I can't blame her. We were goin' to get our promise rings that day, and there I was, movin' furniture on my day off."

"For another girl, I might add," said the suddenly wise Temmin, folding his arms and leaning up against a tree.

"That's what Arta said. She was hoppin' mad, never seen her so mad, and the things she said--I didn't know she knew those kind of words! She said I was an idiot and who did I think I was, a junior footman mooning after a princess, and I said who did she think she was, a downstairs maid jealous of a princess, it was like a toad jealous of a swan."

"I'm sure that went over well."

"Oh, believe me, if I could taken it back, I would, but I was just so mad. We both were. And then she said if I thought she was a toad, why was I her sweetheart, and I said, that can be changed, y'know." He began sniffling again, wiped his nose, and patted his jacket for his flask. "Can I have just a tad, please?" he appealed.

"No," said Temmin severely, "I think not. What exactly did my otherworldly-like sister do to goad you into trying to attack me in the forest?"

"Attack you? Fight you fair, more like," said Fen, proud if wobbly. "I was the best bare knuckle scuffler in Valmouth. The champ of my weight class! I don't care what fancy schoolin' your highness has had, it would've been a fair fight and I'd've given you what for!"

"And you may yet, Fen, but not today. Tell me about Ellika."

"Oh, the princess. She heard about it somehow--"

"From me, she heard it from me. I told her to stop encouraging you, that she was coming between you and Arta."

"Well," glared Fen, "you had a hand in it, too, didn't you? Any rate, her highness talked to Arta and found out--found out what you'd done--"

"I told her what happened! She already knew!"

"Well her highness didn't know about the handkerchief! Or the kisses!"

"Kiss! It was one kiss! And I might add I didn't have to talk her into it!"

Fen scuffled to his feet in anger and tried to strike a martial pose. "Are you sayin' my Arta's an easy girl? Ow! Fuck!" He dropped the attempt and cradled his arm in pain.

"No, no," said Temmin with remorse, "nothing of the sort. There, now, take it easy, Fen." He helped the redhead to a nearby stump. "Finish the story."

"Well, her highness convinced Arta to come tell me what happened. I didn't believe her, but then she showed me the handkerchief as proof. I swore I'd knock you into the Southern Territories for touching my girl, prince or no, and she said she thought she wasn't my girl any more, and I said of course you're my girl." He sniffed. "At least I got a good set of kisses for all this, for we've made it up and not even her highness could keep me from getting our rings come our next day off. Anyway, I got myself a bottle, for courage, because I'm sure to be cashiered or worse for this, and came out here to wait right away. They lock the Keep at eleven bells, you know, so once I snuck out I was stuck. I was so mad I didn't think. Oh, Gods. They're goin' to put me in prison, aren't they."

"Not if I can help it," said Temmin. He looked down at the woeful young man. "How old are you, Fen?"

"Eighteen next week."

"Let's stand you up." He helped Fen to his feet. "We're of a height, and similar builds. Bare knuckle champ, eh? Ever had any formal training?"

Fen laughed, and winced. "I never."

"How'd you like a job trying to beat me into a pulp a few times a week, no chance of prison?"

Fen's face went blank. "What?"

"Do you like being a footman?"

"Not especially, your highness," answered Fen, finally sobering enough to stop treating the prince as an equal. "I always thought I'd go for a soldier, but I can't on my own until I'm 18, and my mam'd never let me go early. And then Arta went into service here, and I couldn't bear to be parted from her."

"I need a sparring partner," said Temmin.

"A what?" said Fen.

"A sparring partner. Someone to train with."

"I know what a sparring partner is, your highness. Why would you want me for that?"

"Why would you want a junior footman for that, your highness?" said Jenks from the bedchamber. "You know, it's considered traditional for the manservant to do that for his master," he added.

In the bathroom, Temmin stood in his trousers and vest, braces hanging, staring into the mirror. He concentrated on scraping his chin. "High time I learned to do it on my own, Jenks, some day I'll be out in the field without you to do it for me."

"Not as long as I draw breath," muttered Jenks out of Temmin's hearing.

"Well, I mean! I feel responsible. Fen's a good man, Elly just goaded him into doing something foolish. If I hadn't made up a story about us meeting to train in the woods and my spilling a flask on him, he'd've gotten it for sure, and as it is I know no one believes me. And I did kiss his girl. And I need a sparring partner." Temmin strode into the bedchamber and began pulling on his shirt. "I need to get into better trim, Jenks, you need to get me back into training! All this sitting around all day listening to that Teacher is making me lazy."

Jenks sighed. "Bare knuckle champ of Valmouth, eh? Well, I suppose we should be seeing just what the bare knuckle champ of Valmouth can do. I'll set up a training schedule, your highness. He's to stop serving as a footman?"

"Yes, set it up with Affton, please, to see that he still gets his salary but reports to you."

"As you wish, your highness. Do slow down, I haven't finished brushing off your suit coat. I know you're hungry--"

"The only thing I'm hungry for is a piece of Elly! Meddling with servants," Temmin huffed.

"You must confess, your highness, that it did work. They're once again promised to each other."

"Yes," sighed Temmin, leaving for breakfast, "that's exactly what she'll say."

Or would have said, had she been there. But as usual, Ellika was still asleep, and instead of a piece of his sister, he had to satisfy himself with two smoked fish, a large slice of ham, four eggs, several racks of toast and all of the marmalade, plus a large pot of hot chocolate. He'd hold the piece of his mind he intended for Ellika's breakfast for her tea.

Once their parents left, Sedra rattled The Morning Capital and peered at her brother over the top of it. "Did it work?"

Temmin swallowed his forkful of tomatoes. "Did what work?"

"Ellika's little scheme. I see you don't have a black eye, how'd the footman fare?"

"You knew?!" he sputtered. "You should have said something to me! No one tells me anything!"

"Couldn't tell you," she said sensibly. "It wouldn't have worked. You would've changed your usual habit, Fen would have gotten cashiered for drunkenness and not reporting for duty, and Ellika would've been very put out with me."

Temmin eyed her severely as she folded the Capital and reached for The Daily Voice of Tremont. "As it happens, it did work, if leaving me with an injured sparring partner reconciled with his girl is the definition of 'worked.'"

"Oh good! I knew it would. You've eaten all the toast again, Temmy. Affton! More toast, please!" chirped Ellika, slipping into the chair next to her brother. How someone so boisterous could sneak into a room like that never ceased to amaze her brother. "Oh, stop glaring, I know you're very cross with me, I knew you would be. I don't care in the least. You have a sparring partner, Fen's no longer in a job he hates, and Arta has her love back where he belongs. I'm quite satisfied with myself." She took a long, dainty pull on her coffee.

"Just do me a favor?" pleaded her brother. "Stop flirting with footmen. I only need one sparring partner."

"I will stop flirting with footmen the minute you stop kissing maidservants," she answered sternly, holding out her hand. "Deal?"

Temmin groped for a retort, found none that was true, and shook her hand. "Deal."