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19 Jan 2010 9:13 PM
It was late one sun-baked afternoon when a contingent of guards arrived at Wendatch, and though I cannot recall the king's first visitation six years prior in the early autumn of my seventeenth year, I remember my excitement at the prospect of his coming. The harvest was as always, generous with herds fully stocked and peace prevailed. I was residing with my master at his abode, an apothecary cluttered with what was useful and equally what was useless in the many dark and dusty corners, upon shelves too high for my reach where phials and drums of every conceivable size and shape contained unknown and unused concoctions blended by Treggedon. If one word could describe the captivating feel of the place then enchantment fits that reckoning, for enchanting it was. Though small and at times somewhat stifling, particularly on hot summer evenings, I always felt in wonder. I possessed my own bedding chamber, as did my master though he seemed to spend very little time sleeping and favouring to remain slouched in his winged chair by the hearth. My room faced west overlooking the perimeter wall, where I regularly sat upon the sill by the large window sampling countless sunsets that would have been the envy of any artist or bard. It was basic with ample shelving to accommodate my many books and trinkets I had come to hoard, and all neatly set in an order that made my master quite envious. Not that he sneaked at my possessions, for he insisted that I needed my own space and respected my demand for such privacy.
"Helps one to think and discover" he would advocate. "One must never encroach on a man's solitude."
My bed was comfortable by comparison to most I have slept upon and for that, I was very grateful. I liked my bed and if no chores were pressing, preferred to stay in that opulence if only to dream and speculate. As fore-mentioned, my master favoured to sleep by the hearthside and be it summer or winter, drowse and conjure thoughts and dreams or plan the unnecessary, though more often than not his next set of demands upon me. Not that he was an idle individual, far from it, but I suppose with the gentle ebbing tide of age and my young set of legs at his disposal to do the fetching and carrying, who else would not seize such an advantage?
The living area was by far the cosiest and fire apart, contained his chair studded with brass buttons that glistened like gold where my master continually sat. A woven mat long since seen better days and spread lifelessly over the wooden floor made a feeble attempt to quell the icy drafts of winter blowing through the gaping cracks in the floor. My three-legged stool was set adjacent to Treggedon's chair and though adequately padded offered nothing in the way of comfort. Inconsequential light filtered into the room and during daylight no matter how bright the sun shone outside, it was always dingy. A cool haven however, on hot sultry days.
There were several fittings around the walls where cups, bottles of wine, books and spent tapers lay strewn and apart from his ledgers and rowan staff, my master had nothing in the way of personal possessions hence the reflection of bareness within the room. The two candles on the mantle and another set on the small table were the futile means of light, but in the still of night, the flickering wicks added their ambience by casting shimmering shadows that danced upon the walls and ceiling above our heads in harmony with the fire's flames. On such nights, Treggedon would create silhouetted beasts and birds, contorting his gnarled hands and whenever the wine mellowed his restraint, produce images of the dragon -the dragon of Avalon. Then he would tell of the romance and bravery such as those of Merlin the Druid and the young king Arthur in the triumphant days that proclaimed the demise of the dark ways. Oh, how envious I was then, desperately wanting to ride by the side of Arthur to do battle and learn too, the spells of the Merlin. Eat with them and listen to the infamous annals of their glory, however, it was a dream then and a dream that would never come to fruition.
It proves difficult to give a fitting description of my master, for no matter how dexterous I may select my words, they will render imprecise. How can a boy best illustrate a man exulting an age beyond seventy? Yes, he possessed wrinkles with furrows across his brow deeper than a freshly ploughed wheat field yet there were occasions when in a tranquil state of mind his brow became as smooth as a piglet's back. His nose was long and hooked with a ridge close to the top and continuously dripped in winter. His moods were apt to vary like the weather but I learnt when to take leave of my company to avoid one of his many tantrums. The only thing consistent about Treggedon was his long and wiry frame, for he always looked frail. His hands were almost fleshless and his face gaunt but he possessed an inner strength far greater than his physique delineated. More often than not, he had a smile for me and his mouth had a line either side that only dissipated when he displayed anger or seriousness. He presented himself well in cleanliness and though his dress sense at times was shabby, his clothes were regularly laundered. He had long wispy white hair that fused into his equally long white beard, an attribute seemingly indigenous to the average wizard I would suppose. Other than that, well, in my eyes he was the perfect old man.
Having swept the floor of my master's house, I turned my attention to cleaning the pots and leather bottles as part of my daily duty. It may seem mundane but doing this particular chore was the ideal opportunity for me to daydream and consider all my potions and spells that one day I felt sure I would perfect. In addition, it was a chance to salvage any remnant morsels laying discarded in the empty confines of the receptacles my master overlooked. Alas, he was very mean and with the exception of the odd granule of hellebore or digitalis, I had to resort to pilfering the much-needed ingredients for my own little experiments.
When the horn blew, I immediately ceased my task and sped downstairs to the outer door. Soon enough Treggedon joined me, bustling past as if I did not exist. I managed to wrench my head between his elbow and the doorframe in my desperation at seeing what whipped up the deafening commotion. The horn repeated its deep timbre and within moments of its resounding, a dust cloud rose up through the arch of the portcullis created by the hooves of the approaching horses. Five mounted guards rode through, each holding a banner bearing the Almighty's emblem of the black eagle. The embroidered detail lay on a backcloth of the deepest crimson with gold braid discoloured by the dust from the mens journeying. These fine men were clad in blackened leather with chain mail hanging heavily from their shoulders and distinct crimson plumed helmets hiding their faces.
My master called to me.
"Come Rabbit we must witness this."
My name is Arton of course, however, my master always called me Rabbit, not because of the size of my ears but he said my nose twitched whenever I concentrated. I doubted then as I do now for if it were so, surely someone else would have given mention to my inclination.
"Who are these men?" I asked excitedly squinting at the sudden brightness.
"They, my little buck, are the king's very own guards and doubtlessly bring word of the almighty. Come!" he commanded.
In the time it took us to dash into the square, a jostling crowd already gathered to greet them and their eager hands were grasping at the horse's harnesses. Others frantically gripped the soldiers tunics and their spirited jeers and shouts overpowered the heavy snorts of the exhausted horses. One sentinel rose from his saddle, gripped the pommel and spoke.
"Behold loyal subjects of Wendatch," he shouted, spitting out the dust from his mouth, "make ready your welcome for I proclaim to receive the almighty, your king. Embellish your paths with fresh hay and prepare your vessels in readiness for his gracious lord."
A great furore echoed around the castle walls as his pronouncement fell silent.
"Take us to our host," demanded another guard struggling to remove his helmet.
"Pray sire, I will lead you." My master responded before all others, bowing his head dutifully.
Momentarily, I thought he was bowing in respect to the guards, something he had no need of doing after all, he was Talteth's advisor and far higher in the pecking order than any guard, however, I realised it was in respect of the king's colours. As we led the horses toward the keep, all heads stooped in acknowledgement as we passed and it felt as if they were bowing to me.
'One day!' I remember repeating to myself inwardly. 'One day!'
After the brisk walk across the uneven cobbled courtyard we arrived at the foot of the steps leading up to the keep and a sudden hush crept over Wendatch after the guards began dismounting. Only the persistent caws of the abhorrent crows hovering high above the tower showed ill consideration of the event. The huge weathered doors of the keep opened slowly inward and out stepped lord Talteth. Releasing the tethers, Treggedon sped urgently to him.
"Sire, messengers from the king are here," gasped my master excitedly.
"I can see that you old fool! I do possess eyes!" Talteth rebuffed discourteously.
"With your pardon sire."
"Yes! Yes! Be off with you," the lord hissed derisively.
Talteth brushed my master aside with the wave of his right arm even though Treggedon's head remained bowed to him in respect. The guards laughed in ridicule and I was surely offended.
"Greetings lord Talteth," said one of the guards.
"Wendatch welcomes you. Please, enter my house and drink my wine," the lord insisted.
I studied Talteth's surly manner and watched his tightening lips contort into a wry grin directly after he had spoken.
"Most gracious sire and with pleasure we accept," said another guard twisting uneasily in his saddle endeavouring to dismount.
"Good, then follow me if you please ...and someone see to their horses!"
Talteth spun on the heels of his weighty tanned boots and sped back up the steps with his long grey cloak rippling behind him. As quick as he had emerged, Talteth disappeared into the keep leaving the doors wide open. The five guards and my master eagerly followed the lord into the keep. The last guard inched the doors to a thudding close instigating the gathered crowd to disperse and unhurriedly men, women and children filtered off into small bands continuing to mutter their expectation of the king's imminent arrival to one and other. This left me alone staring at the closed doors with my hands unwittingly clutching the horses' leathers and burdened with the animals. While I considered what possible gossip the soldiers brought into Wendatch, I hitched the weary animals in line and tugged them across the yard into the narrow passage leading directly to the stable. The smithy oblivious to the commotion worked at his anvil hammering a shoe into shape and between his hefty strikes, I ordered he feed and water the horses by command of Talteth.
Perhaps at this juncture I should briefly clarify that being an advisor's boy does hold several advantages and any of the common folk at the castle who offered their services at my demands was deemed as being 'co-operative.' Not that I really ever upheld my status in the social order for I was after all born no more than a commoner myself and deep down that was all I felt I ever was.
Having seen to the animals needs, I dashed back to the apothecary eagerly awaiting my master's return with the accounts of the kingdom, however it turned into a long wait, some several hours in fact and already the autumn sun clipped the western wall casting an orange glow into my room. I lit a taper in anticipation of the approaching darkness and placed it over the hearth before walking across to the window overlooking the courtyard. I pondered over the almighty's visit for soon it was going to be a rare opportunity for me to be among the elite throng of aides and have an opportunity to speak to his grace. What words as a boy could I proffer?
'A speech, I must prepare a speech. No, I must resort to etiquette and speak only to him should he ask anything of me. What if he asks me nothing?' I dithered in stupefaction. 'Perhaps I could compose a verse or even recite the aged words of Tibbet the bard but in my own manner?'
My impasse became severed by the approaching voices from a gang of men and cautiously recoiled from the widow daring not to peek for fear of being caught eavesdropping.
"...And remember the consequence you face should you fail the king!"
That is all I overheard and failed to recognise who said it or to whom it was aimed. Within moments, the main door creaked open and then slammed shut as if in the same movement. It was then I witnessed dread upon my master's face as he trudged the stairs and entered the room.
"Master," I uttered softly dashing toward him, "you look so pallid. Are you unwell?" At first, he did not seem to hear or see me and called to him again to break his vacant stare.
"Master?"
"I am fine Arton," he eventually replied softly.
"Here, sit in your chair." I motioned with my arm and guided him slowly to his seat.
Though I felt helpless, I pursued my efforts to comfort him.
"I will light the fire so as you will be warm."
"Please Arton, there is no need I am fine now."
"Would you like some water? Perhaps mead or wine?"
He deliberated briefly.
"Yes that will be in order, wine I think."I turned to the shelf opposite, grasped the leather bottle and having noticed my master staring into the cold hearth gently poured the wine. His hands gripped the chair arms turning his knuckles white.
"Here master," I offered holding out his cup. "Drink this you will soon feel better."
He seized the wine fervently sipped it with reluctance at first before greedily draining the final drop.
"Another?"I asked.
His head slowly affirmed my question and on my second return called my name.
Obviously, he was deeply troubled for he only called my name in anger or seriousness.
"Pull your stool closer Arton there is a matter in which I am in the need to tell," he whispered with his voice trembling equally as my heart.
I complied by positioning myself at his feet, facing him and remained respectfully silent and motionless even though I felt tense by the many questions that could have flowed from my lips. My eyes fixed upon his empty stare and the prevailing silence provoked me to question his sudden disheartenment but his disclosure shattered my concern.
"Something very grave has come to fruition."
"Master?" I quizzed readily.
"I have been witness to talk of treason and something very sinister is unfolding Arton."
"Treason against whom?" I asked shuffling uneasily on my seat.
"When treason threatens it can only be against one and that is our good king."
"Arbereth!"I exclaimed rather than question.
"Indeed it is so," he resigned.
"Then this talk must be silenced master we must tell Talteth immediately."
Before I could motion to stand, Treggedon abruptly quelled my contempt by placing his wiry hand on my shoulder.
"Remain seated lad. If it were that simple do you not suppose I would have done so already?"
"I am at a loss."
I sat bewildered trying desperately to assemble what on reflection was incredibly obvious.
"The problem is," he continued, "neither you nor I can turn to Talteth for justice for it is he the lord himself that utters the very words of treason. His aim is to have his father murdered and take the realm for himself."
"With respect master perhaps you may have misheard."
"I wish it was so Rabbit, but alas..."
"...I do not understand. Surely, lord Talteth will rule the kingdom soon anyway. I mean the almighty is old and he will abdicate readily enough."
"The king is a sly old fox and is in the finest of health it will be several years yet before he relinquishes his crown. No, I am afraid Talteth's patience runs thin and his lust for power surpasses all reasoning."
"Then what are we to do?"
"It is more a matter of you rather than 'we.' Unless I conform to his treachery, my life is worthless. He and others will be watching my every move and there is nothing I can do to thwart them succeeding, however, the task I have in mind is not beyond your capabilities."
A grip of fear encapsulated me and I knew whatever my master had in mind I was not going to relish hearing it.
"In the morning after breaking fast you will leave Wendatch and warn the almighty of his own son's plot to slay him."
"But what of you master?"
"I will remain here and pray for you and guide your steps along the way."
His token words of comfort did nothing to quell the fretfulness gnawing inside my stomach because I had never ventured beyond ten leagues from the walls of Wendatch, now suddenly I was being cast out into a world I knew very little of and dreading too, my dismal naivety may burden my prospect of success.
The accounts my master often spoke of on our idle nights came flooding to mind: the evil harbouring in the dense forests, the trolls frequenting the mountains and the wild creatures stalking throughout the kingdom all conjured dread within me. I shook my head to disentangle my anxiety returning to the solemnity of the moment.
"How does Talteth propose to rid his father?" I asked.
"For that lad, I have no answer. I can only surmise that Talteth will order one of his underlings to comply with his wish and be astute enough to create himself a tangible alibi. The king is expected within two days from the morrow so you have until that time to warn him."
"The road is easy enough master if our lord travels from the south..."
"...The road as you state, is 'easy' but be aware of the many hidden dangers for what may appear is not always as it seems. You are now an enemy to the pretender and if he learns of your intent he will have you killed."
It was at this moment I feared what my master designed.
"I have also learnt," he added, "that two of the king's outriders are thick in the plot and no doubt there are others too. You would be wise to trust nobody and speak only with the king himself over the matter."
2But that in itself is impossible!" I contended sharply leaning backward on my stool in resignation. "His guards will have me cut and quartered in an instant and without any question."
I was beginning to shudder.
"Have you not heeded any of my teachings Arton?"
"Of course master," I readily confirmed.
"Then this is the moment to heed them. It is time to remember all I have taught and put your knowledge into practice. You are wiser than most even at your age so follow your instincts and learn from your mistakes. God always gives a man a second chance and you must take it when granted. I am confident you will succeed, though heaven help the kingdom and us if that devil's plot succeeds.
Now you must rest, it will be morning soon enough. Say your prayers and wishes tonight lad, there will be little time for such solace in the morrow."
I retired to my room as Treggedon requested and for the first time in my life experienced dread. What should have been a night of celebration in expectation of the king turned rapidly dire at the prospect of the uncertainty of my daunting errand my master had set. I was angry with him too, for thrusting such a burden upon my inexperienced shoulders. The night seemed endless and though my eyes lay heavy, barely slept and a night among others to transpire when I yearned for my mother's embrace.
The spent candle finally died with a concluding flicker simultaneously proclaiming the arrival of dawn and the chorus of chattering songbirds chirped excitedly as if they too seemed aware of the king's coming, ominously though, the crows with their mournful squawks implied they celebrated my impending quest which drew distressingly closer and I felt downcast. Any other day's waking would witness me avidly watching and feeding the birds that always perched nearby my window counting, naming and recognising them all; but not this morn, I lay quietly for some time with a strong reluctance until finally peeling back my blanket to dress. On opening the quarter drape, the sun struck out its brilliance, reflecting into my room from the water trough across the way highlighting the countless dust motes that floated in the air by my sudden action. Already the bustle of the courtyard commenced and I wandered to the window to peer. The usual trading had indeed begun doubtlessly fuelled by the eagerness in preparations for the almighty and everywhere people carried bundles of fresh straw to line their pathways. Some of Talteth's guards gathered at the storehouse shouting their commands to the lesser folk, ordering them to carry sacks of grain, vegetables and salted mutton carcasses, and children too commandeered for the lesser chores like sweeping and laying the straw
"Rabbit?"
My master's call broke my wistful observations.
"Come boy you have little time to dally."
Treggedon ushered me to the table where bread and milk had been prepared. My appetite was dull as the loaf afore me, and I could barely manage a mouthful. I deliberately ate slowly to delay the inevitable but my master was no fool and his face beamed in awareness of my trepidation.
"Come lad do not fret, you have a frown on your brow that boasts a man of my age."
"Master I have to admit I am terrified," I said idly poking the bread with my fingers.
"Do not confuse yourself with what you think of as fear, it may prove to be excitement. Remember the prospect of freedom and the glory the king will surely reward is yours for the taking."
He misunderstood what I meant. It was for my master I held apprehension for along with the unpleasant sense that once I leave Wendatch might never ever see him again.
"What if...?"
"...Hush now Rabbit you fret unnecessarily," he interrupted as if sensing my feelings perhaps he did, for he was capable considering he was a wizard.
"All you have to do is seek the almighty, tell him what transpires here and I will do all I can to prevent such a scheme from developing further. If we are successful the king will rid himself of his unfaithful son and heir."
Treggedon lowered himself into his chair and produced a tightly wrapped bundle from the side of the hearth.
"Here," he said gesticulating for me to approach, "I have prepared some food and a goat-bag. One cannot carry out a special errand on an empty stomach."
He handed me the red clothed pack, which I tucked immediately inside my tunic.
"Now if you remember what I said and treat everyone as if they are your enemy you are sure to succeed. Be certain to come back now, we still have much ground to cover. If ever you need me just pray and I will be there to guide you," his voice lessened to a thoughtful whisper.
"Remember this too, that in every colour shines a light, in every stone sleeps a crystal, with every night lays a dream and with every step there is hope. Never forget when all seems lost God and opportunity will always be there for you. If you believe and cast away doubt, there will be a pervasive justice, for all what you do will be done under the eyes of God. He will be watching over you Arton and the Lord Almighty as my witness, I shall be watching over you too."
He slowly lowered his skinny frame cupping my face in his icy hands and kissed me on the forehead, something he had never done before. Though he was full of love for me, he never demonstrated that type of affection before. I fully remember our parting and the moment I stepped out of the apothecary and shut the door, the tears flowed readily like a waterfall over my cheeks. Having taken several minutes to compose myself I inhaled deeply and apprehensively ventured out into the courtyard. Much as I desired to turn back and insist Treggedon should resort to using his magic to resolve the matter, I could not let myself be seen sobbing and did my best by offering a lethargic wave without turning around.
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