The War Gift - part 17

Whenever they were alone for a meal after that point, Cailan either spent it on a cushion on the floor, or directly on Jarek’s lap.  During the day they walked through the palace or in the nearby gardens, Cailan explaining each room or memories associated with different places. 

On one afternoon during their shared meal, King Saxon invited Jarek and Cailan to come and see Eleron’s drill team, mentioning to Jarek that Cailan had observed them the week before, as well as having been a part of a team himself when he had participated in his own military service. 

Jarek’s clear interest in observing the soldiers kept Cailan from trying to make an excuse for them to not attend the presentation.  His stomach twisted at the idea of being around the strong and able men, knowing that many looked down on him and some weren’t afraid to voice their derision, but he said nothing to either Jarek or his father.

When they started toward the field an hour later, Cailan kept his features schooled and let Jarek distract him with questions of the time he had spent doing synchronized drills. 

They arrived before the men this time, although Eleron was already there practicing foot placement and sword swings on his own.  He stopped upon seeing their approach and offered the customary bow to his father.  He greeted Cailan with a brief smile as well, but the pleasant expression left as he gave a perfunctory greeting to Jarek.  He wasn’t rude, but neither was he welcoming to the other man.

Cailan wondered with concern at the interaction.  They’d dined with Eleron and the king and queen once already, and he’d noticed his older brother did not seem approving of Jarek’s presence at that time either.  He’d hoped he was mistaken, but now he knew that clearly Eleron didn’t care to have Jarek around. 

He understood the reticence.  Jarek had met all of Cailan’s siblings at this point, and like his mother, other members of his family were also struggling with the thought of their little brother being courted by a foreigner who they believed forced them into giving either Cailan or Doron as a concubine; but Cailan suspected Abed had also spoken to them of their silver-born brother’s feeling for the man, so for that reason and in respect to their father’s decision, they were grudgingly tolerating Jarek’s presence for the week.

Cailan wondered how many of them would come to him after Jarek returned to Cylandrea and try to convince him to not allow the courtship to continue.

Shortly after their arrival at the field, the soldiers began quickly filling the area.  Cailan noticed the ones he’d interacted with before and purposefully avoided getting anywhere close to them.  Instinctively he took a step closer to Jarek, who had been holding his hand, but who now put an arm around his waist and looked down at him with concern. 

“Is your leg paining you?”

“Just the typical ache,” Cailan said honestly.  “It’s not even as sore as it was a week ago.”

Jarek’s arm squeezed him and he looked down at Cailan with such honest affection that the younger man felt caught up in the emotion.  He tilted his face up instinctively, forgetting their audience.

Jarek’s eyes reflected a growing desire, but when he dipped his head down he kissed Cailan’s forehead instead of his lips.

“You tempt me, petling,” he said in a husky whisper.  “But I’d rather not earn your father or brother’s wrath for inappropriate handling of you in their presence.  I’m fairly sure I can feel their glare even now.”

Cailan glanced over Jarek’s shoulder toward his family members, his face reddening.  “Father looks more displeased than mad,” he admitted, knowing his parent didn’t approve of such public displays.  “Eleron is glaring though.  I’m afraid he’s not accepting of our courtship yet.”

Jarek put a few more inches between them, but reached discreetly for Cailan’s hand and twined their fingers together.  “I knew from the start it would take some convincing for your family to accept me.  In truth, some of them may never fully approve of me simply because they will always see me as the man who once possessed you instead of loved you.”  He squeezed Cailan’s fingers.  “I would like to have the full blessing and support from your whole family, little love, but as long as I have your acceptance of me, what they feel about me has very little importance.”

“But they could keep me from you if they don’t accept you,” Cailan stated.

Jarek didn’t look worried.  “Only your father has the power to deny me a courtship, and even if he does, I’ve no intention of letting that be the end of things.  Everyone else can hate me or argue against our bonding, but they don’t have the right to separate us.”

What he said was true, and Cailan relaxed slightly in acceptance, although he still wished to have the support and blessing from his whole family, and not just a grudging tolerance of his relationship with Jarek.

“What’s your father doing?” Jarek asked, pulling Cailan away from his thoughts.

The young prince looked around to see his father walking a slow circle around the men who were quickly gathering into their formation.  “He’s examining the troops,” Cailan explained, seeing the familiar action.  “The occasional man will get lazy about his uniform or loose in his stance.  Father does a surprise inspection at times so the men remember to always be ready, even in the little things.”

“Wise,” Jarek commented.  “What happens if a soldier is deemed not up to standard?”

“It depends.  Usually it’s extra chore duty in the kitchens, or it could be an intense instructional time with him or one of my brothers.  Neither consequence is enjoyed by anyone.”

Just then Eleron came to Cailan’s side.  “Brother, do you remember the Swordman’s Journey routine?” he asked.

Cailan nodded confidently.  Drill routines were something he and all his brothers had enjoyed and had done together in down times.  When he was younger his brothers used to tease and harass him by making him do the drills with a wooden sword, or barefoot so he could not pull off he pleasant stomp sound of the steps, but the moves of each routine were ingrained in his mind and he, along with every other brother, could perform them flawlessly. 

“Good,” Eleron said to Cailan’s nod.  “It’s the most complicated routine I’ve taught them so far and it hasn’t been perfected yet.  If your leg can manage, would you study the left side men while I lead and Father inspects the right side?”

Cailan felt a glow of cheer inside him.  Just to be asked to do something was rare, particularly since his injuries, that he nearly choked up.

“I’d be honored, Eleron,” he said truthfully.  “May Jarek walk with me?”

Eleron darted a quick look to Jarek’s silent presence at Cailan’s side.  “That is fine,” he said a bit roughly.  “If you notice a soldier who needs correction or is not in sync, let me know after the full drill.”

“I will.  Thank you, Eleron.”

His brother nodded and then moved quickly to the front of the now formed group.  Cailan walked Jarek toward the left side and positioned them where they could get the best and fullest view of the performing men.  As he scanned the group, he noticed the two men who had made fun of him the previous week were among those he’d be scrutinizing.  He told himself not to focus solely on them, even when the most blatant of the two sneered at him until Eleron called his men’s attention.

In moments the routine began, and Cailan watched with an expert and experienced eye as the men responded to Eleron’s leadership and performed the routine. 

It was clear that the men were still in the learning stages of the Swordman’s Journey.  Their stomps were in sync, maintaining the beat and rhythm of the drill, but the arm and sword movements were not yet perfected.  Several soldiers ended up a half beat behind, especially if they were watching the men around them instead of following the moves of Eleron.  It was clear a few of the men wanted to show their talent apart from the group.  Their arm moves would be slightly more flamboyant, their stomps just a bit louder, and their expression verging on gloating instead of the neutrality required of them.

That was often a problem when it came to drill teams.  Some forgot that there was never an individual performance within the group.  There were no stars, no heroes.  You either succeeded as a team or failed as a team.

It was a lesson Cailan and his brothers had learned as children just starting in their training; something their father made sure they knew and practiced from the start.  Drill was about trust and bonding.  It taught you to work together with your fellow soldiers, to serve as a group, to work as a team for the best of all.

When the performance was completed many of the men were breathing hard from the complicated and physically demanding presentation.  Eleron ordered them at rest and then moved toward the king to get his impressions.  Cailan knew his older brother would come to him after speaking with their father, but there was no way to know how long that would be.  He was just beginning to feel the ache of prolonged standing in his leg, and so discreetly began moving to a patch of grass where he could sit and stretch out the appendage.

Jarek followed him, but waited until they were out of range of others and seated on the grass before asking if he was ok.

Cailan nodded as he stretched his leg out and lightly rubbed it.  “I’m fine.  The leg is getting stronger, but too much standing or walking and it wears out and could buckle underneath me.  I’d rather not have that happen in front of the men…or my family.”

Jarek’s face was understanding.  “Has it happened in front of them?”

“No,” Cailan answered with obvious relief.  “It’s only actually happened twice, and I was thankfully by myself both times.”

Having that privacy when his leg had buckled had seemed like a blessing to Cailan, but Jarek didn’t seem to have the same mindset.

“No one was with you?  Are you sure you didn’t aggravate the injury?  Did you have it checked afterward?”

A mix of consternation and annoyance filled Cailan.  “No, no one else knows…except you now.  The healer checks it every day and has noticed no further damage being done.”

Jarek’s eyes darkened and Cailan could see exactly what he was about to say.  He didn’t want to hear it, and spoke before Jarek could get two words out.

“Don’t treat me like I’m delicate!” he said fiercely; more fiercely than either Jarek or he expected.  “The wound is healing.  I am smart enough to be careful with it, and I won’t tell you anymore about it if you’re going to harp on how vulnerable I am.”

The anger had built in him quickly, and it was as hot as it was unexpected.  Jarek looked taken aback, and then frowned as his eyes sparked…and not in a good way from Cailan’s perspective.

“Let me make something clear to you, my prince.”  He used an endearment, but his tone was straightforward and laced with warning.  “I’ve never used or even thought of the word ‘delicate’ when it comes to you.  That is your subconscious talking, not my mouth.  However, you are slightly more vulnerable with your injury, just as I would be if I had nearly lost my leg and my life to a cut as deep as yours; just as your brothers or your father or your mother would be.  I will see to it that you heal fully and I am kept abreast of your well-being whether you choose to inform me or not. 

“Lastly, I will not be spoken to as you just addressed me without fair cause.  I expect courtesy, even when you’re angry.  Uncalled for disrespect will have consequences in the future.  Am I clear?”

The tone and the words had doused the fire of anger as quickly as it had built.  Cailan felt more shame at his tone than anything now.  “It’s clear,” he answered quietly, and much more respectfully.

Jarek scrutinized him instead of accepting the words, and Cailan swallowed a nervous lump in his throat.  When the older man spoke, it was less harsh but just as serious.

“I am no longer your master or lord, young one, but we have spoken of the roles we wish to have between us.  I enjoy hearing my name on your lips, and wish to just be ‘Jarek’ to you most of the time; but it has occurred to me that there are times, such as right now, when who we are to each other perhaps will need a more palpable affirmation.  So, I’m going to ask you again, and I want a deferential and formal answer to my question.  Have I made myself clear?”

Cailan couldn’t look away from Jarek’s firm gaze and there was an uncomfortable feeling in his chest.  But, that shame-filled ache dissolved as he sincerely said, “Yes, my lord.”.

Immediate approval filled Jarek’s eyes and lessened the scolding look that had been directed at Cailan.  The older man’s hand inconspicuously moved to the small of Cailan’s back and rubbed appreciatively.

“Very good, petling.  Thank you.”

Cailan felt praised in those few words and wished he could lean against Jarek’s strong side, but Eleron was now approaching them, and their moments of semi-privacy were gone.  They stood from their seated position. Jarek, in deference, took a half step back to silently show he understood that Eleron wished to address only his brother.  The reverent move clearly was not what the elder brother expected.  Eleron’s face showed his surprise before he quickly composed himself; although he took a moment to offer a slightly friendlier nod to Jarek in appreciation of the action.  He then focused on Cailan, his tone reflecting a man who took the leadership of his soldiers seriously.

“I’d like your thoughts on the men’s presentation, brother,” he said genuinely.

Jarek, from where he stood silently listening, felt pleased to see that Cailan’s abilities weren’t completely rebuffed because of his silver hair, even though Cailan tended to think they were.  He’d observed that both the king and the two eldest brothers tended to admire what Cailan proved he could do, while also seeming to live with an inborn belief that their silver-born son and brother would never be quite as good as them.  The mix of love and prejudice was odd in Jarek’s eyes, but the time he was spending in Arten and with Cailan’s family was helping him understand his young prince better.

Cailan spoke knowledgeably when he answered his brother.  “The rhythm is right, and the turns and separations within the drill are nearly perfect, but some of the men need to practice steadier arm moves.  I’m sure just the repetition of practice will perfect that.”

Eleron nodded.  “I only introduced this drill a little over a week ago.  They aren’t confident in it yet.  Did you notice anything that should be addressed that practice will not fix?”

Cailan’s brief nod was given with utmost respect, and Jarek understood that he was unconsciously tempering any negativity he was about to say.

“Just two things occurred to me, and I only saw it with a handful of men on my side.  Some, it appears, have fallen into the habit of being guided by the moves of those around them instead of focusing on you as their leader and guide.  It starts with one or two, but then affects others without the individuals picking up on what is happening. 

“The other thing I noticed was that some of the men are wishing to stand out more than work with the group.”

Eleron frowned.  “They are individualizing themselves?”

“Not profoundly,” Cailan said prudently.  “I’m sure they are simply hoping for praise of a job well done, but they are showing minor attempts to stand out instead of work with the group.”

Eleron’s gaze flowed over the men in his company.  “What are their actions and who are they?” he questioned.

Cailan had expected that question, and he was prepared to answer it.  “Their expressions are not completely schooled.  A few are overdoing the sword positions, especially during changes, and most are stomping a level higher than is necessary in the Swordman’s Journey.”

Without pointing, Cailan directed Eleron’s attention to a half dozen men he’d noted were guilty of stepping outside the group dynamic.  Eleron pursed his lips.

“Father also noted three men who were doing similar actions.  I’ll have to address it with them.”

“I know,” Cailan agreed.  “But I think they do it thinking the exceptional performance will earn your commendation.  They have not yet recognized the brotherhood of a company, be it in drills or with the men they fight alongside.  They don’t realize that standing alone does not win battles.”

Eleron nodded his agreement.  “That is becoming a bigger struggle with each year that passes.  Father always said that teaching a man the balance between knowing every single life is valuable, and accepting that it is sometimes necessary to be one in a group and not an individual, is very difficult.  I’m finding that is true.”

Cailan had heard his father say those very words more than once, so he understood Eleron’s point.  “Father has also said that you can only teach men who want to learn.”

“Yes, that is true too,” Eleron agreed.

The older brother moved back toward his men then, and Cailan and Jarek fell into step just behind him.  When Eleron began approaching the men whom Cailan and King Saxon had pointed out, Jarek and Cailan remained on the outskirts of the group to offer the consideration of privacy.

Cailan still discreetly watched each man as Eleron approached and spoke with them.  One of the men he’d pointed out to his brother had been the one who had most belittled him the week before, but Cailan hadn’t identified the man to his brother out of revenge.  The soldier honestly had been overstepping his role within the group, and Cailan felt he was being fair to point him out along with the others.

When Eleron approached that particular soldier, Cailan noted the man was not pleased to be reprimanded, even as diplomatically as Eleron was doing.  He tossed the briefest look in Cailan’s direction, his eyes revealing his dislike.

“Why does he glare at you?” Jarek asked at Cailan’s side.

The younger man was grateful for Jarek’s presence, but tried to be tactful in his words.  “Some men’s prejudice against me is stronger than others, particularly now if they are aware of my former subservient status in your land.  He is among them.”

“Mm,” Jarek murmured, the tone filled with comprehension.  “And he is one you mentioned to your brother for failure to work in unity with the group.”

Cailan nodded.  “It was not revenge though.  I was being honest in my assessment.”

“I’ve never doubted your honesty, petling,” Jarek assured.  “But I think this man may believe your motives were not pure.”

As if proving his words, almost as soon as Eleron finished speaking to him and moved on to another soldier, the man zeroed in on Cailan and began a purposeful approach.

“I do not like the intent I see in him,” Jarek said darkly as together they watched the man advance toward them.  “It is bold of him to approach you as he is.  Does your father allow disrespect to his sons in such a way?”

Cailan hesitated.  That question had a longer answer than they had time for.  Typically, his father did not allow any denigration of his sons, but having a silver-born was different.  It wasn’t that he allowed the Artenians to be insolent to Cailan, but more that he believed that people’s inborn bias against silver-borns made them unable to help the occasional—or frequent—slurs that were said.  As long as nothing blatant was said in King Saxon’s hearing and nothing violent was attempted, his father tended to pretend ignorance.

Cailan had no chance to explain any of that though since the man just then reached them.  Maintaining a neutral expression, Cailan met the man’s gaze.  “Do you wish to address me?” he asked nobly.

The man was clearly seething.  His face was red and his fists clenched.  “Incompetent silver!” he rasped in clear insult.  “You can’t do anything worthwhile and so decide to bring down those who can?” he taunted.  “You’re a blight on this land.”

He spat at Cailan’s feet, evidently too upset to be thinking clearly about how vulgar he was being to the king’s son.

That was a step too far, and Cailan opened his mouth to fully dress down the offensive man, knowing he had every right to; but instead Jarek stepped between them, disarmed the soldier of the sword sheathed in his war belt, and took the man’s legs out in a move so fast and smooth that Cailan was taken by surprise as much as the now humbled soldier.  Jarek held the man down with a heavy forearm across the man’s chest.

“You forget you speak to a blood born prince of your land,” he rebuked harshly, his eyes revealing his anger.  “Prince Cailan is son to your king, and sixth in line to the throne.  You are a coward and your words are traitorous.  In my country you’d be convicted of sedition for the words and actions you’ve just thrown at the prince.  You’d be banished from the mainland and extradited to an island to live out your days away from all human contact.”

The man squirmed, trying to escape from his position, although clearly still livid.  “Get off me!  What does a foreigner know of our lands?  Who are you to attack me?!”

“I am suiter to Prince Cailan and hopefully his soon-to-be betrothed, but you will address me as Leader Jarek of Cylandrea, second-born prince of my land and head of the Cylandrean military,” Jarek answered coldly.

The soldier’s eyes widened in fearful shock at that revelation, but said nothing else as the three of them were now being surrounded by Artenian warriors and the approaching King Saxon and Prince Eleron.

The men were loud in their resentment of Jarek’s treatment of their fellow soldier, but none attempted to get Jarek off of him, instead parting quickly to allow their king and Prince Eleron through.

“What is going on?!” King Saxon demanded.  His heated eyes were directed on Jarek’s restraint on one of his soldiers.  “You would attack one of my men, Leader Jarek?  You abuse your status in my home!”

“No, Father!” Cailan immediately defended, but Jarek spoke up boldly.

“I initiated no attack, your majesty,” he said fearlessly.  “But I will not stand idly by and ignore anyone who verbally assaults the man I desire to be bonded to.  Neither will I not defend the king and royal family of a country my own kingdom has an alliance with.  This man,” he said fiercely, “belittles Prince Cailan, and thus the entire royal family.  I will bring him to the ground, even if it is not my place.”

Saxon and Eleron then turned their glare onto the prone man.  “What have you to say to this, soldier?” Eleron asked. 

The man’s earlier anger was being replaced by fear, but he still tried to defend himself.  “I spoke only truthful words.  I was unfairly called out for mistakes within the drill by someone not qualified to do so.”

“I called you out, soldier,” Eleron stated forcefully.  “As your superior it is my right.”

“It’s not his right!” the soldier pointed a finger at Cailan.  “I saw him speaking to you before approaching me.  What does a silver know about drills and skill within battle?”

“Enough,” King Saxon demanded.  “You bury yourself with your words, soldier.  Do you dare demean my son in front of me?”

“No sire!” the man answered fearfully. 

The answer still did not please the king.  “Eleron, have this man escorted to a holding area.  You and I will gather a neutrality team to gain the whole story.

“Leader Jarek,” King Saxon then addressed the Cylandrean.  “Let the man rise.  We will hear yours and Cailan’s sides as well, but I will not hold any defense of my son or my throne against you.”

Jarek released the man slowly, and then stood with a mix of anger and pride at Cailan’s side. 

The soldiers then dispersed, several of them being called into the duty to escort Cailan’s opponent off the field.

The king put a heavy hand on both Jarek and Cailan’s shoulders.  “Eleron will see to the rest of his men.  The two of you will return to the palace with me.  I will hear what happened from both of you, but separately.”

Cailan had the emotions of righteous anger, fear for Jarek, humiliation at the other soldier’s words, and physical weariness all shouting at him.  For now he ignored them all and held his head up with solemn pride as they all returned to the palace.

*****

King Saxon ordered Cailan and Jarek to their own quarters once they reached the palace.  “I will speak with you separately,” he told them.

Cailan wanted to argue that directive, but he wasn’t one to go against his father, and Jarek seemed accepting of the decree, so he kept silent and allowed the separation. 

A short while later his mother came to his room, her demeanor concerned.  “Cailan, are you alright?  Your father said there was an incident at the drill presentation.”

“I’m fine, Mother,” Cailan assured.  “Did Father tell you about it?”

The queen shook her head.  “He said to let you tell me.  What happened?”

Cailan put his mother’s hand in the crook of his elbow and walked her to a divan.  She took a seat and he settled down next to her.

“It was nothing violent,” he assured once they were seated.  He tried to decide how to explain what had happened, wanting to be subtle while being honest.  He then realized he might as well be straightforward, because his father would be wanting the full details from him soon, and his mother would find out the specifics from the king then anyway. 

Replaying the events, he told her of Eleron’s request for his observation of the men, what he’d told his brother after the presentation, and how one of the men he’d mentioned took offense and confronted him.

“He did not think a silver-born had the qualifications to correct his mistakes and he verbally attacked me.  Jarek took offense and defended me and our family,” he told his mother.

The queen took in his words.  “Are you sure the soldier meant offense, Cailan?”

The prince was taken aback.  “He certainly didn’t mean praise, Mother.  He challenged my knowledge of the drill, called me incompetent, and…” he paused, feeling embarrassment and shame to repeat what else the man said.  “And claimed I am a blight to the kingdom of Arten.”

The queen covered her mouth with her hand in shock.  She didn’t seem to know what to say after that and neither did Cailan.  They ended up sitting in silence for a long while until they were joined by Cailan’s father and several other men.

The king had brought in both Eleron and Abed, as well as two of his advisors.  Cailan knew why.  He planned to get the details of what had happened from Cailan’s perspective, and he was doing it according to protocol.  That didn’t mean that Cailan didn’t feel like his words would be under suspicion instead of fully trusted as a son.  It was perhaps an unfair feeling to have toward his father and the situation, but the emotional injury of it still bubbled inside him.

King Saxon waited only until everyone was seated to address his son.  “Tell us what happened, Cailan,” he directed.

Frustrated and wishing Jarek was with him, Cailan again relayed the events.  He gave as many details as possible, including quoting exactly what both the soldier and Jarek had said to each other.

When he finished his retelling, Eleron and Abed shared a look that he didn’t understand.  Eleron ended up making a comment Cailan hadn’t expected.

“After you left the field, one of my men approached me.  He knew we’d be questioning everyone involved about what had happened, and he feared previous actions of his own would be brought up.”

Cailan wasn’t sure where his brother was going with his words.  “What do you mean?  What actions?”

“He claimed that when you attended the presentation last week, that some of my men—ones he was sitting with—were less than cordial to you.  One of those men he says was the soldier who made accusations to you this afternoon.”

Cailan felt his jaw clench, but said nothing to what Eleron was telling him.  Abed spoke up though. “Little brother, you never revealed names, but you did tell me that there have been people, specifically soldiers, who have shamed you to your face for your silver status and previously being a concubine.  Were they men from Eleron’s drill team?”

“I do not wish to discuss that incident,” Cailan tried to say pointedly but respectfully.  “I chose not to pursue restitution for what was said then, and I haven’t changed my mind now.”

“But I do wish to discuss it,” the king spoke up firmly.

Cailan lifted his head and met his father’s gaze, and then the focused attention everyone else in the room was giving him.  He could see they were taking things seriously, and Cailan wished for the millionth time that he had been born any other color than silver.  None of what they were discussing would have taken place if he’d had normal hair.

Knowing he couldn’t refuse his father, Cailan reluctantly confessed what had taken place the week before.

“During their rest period I addressed three of your men,” he said to Eleron.  “I wanted to praise them for their performance.  Two of the men, one being the man who approached me today, laughed and claimed it wasn’t likely I was familiar with military drills, but….”  He stopped, his face burning hotly over the memory of what the men had said and desperately not wanting to repeat it.

“But what?” the king pressed.

Cailan truly couldn’t look at anyone as he spoke the words.  “But that I did know about being drilled,” he said lowly.  “I was called a silver sent away to….”

He stopped again and looked pleadingly at his father.  “Please do not make me repeat the crudity that was said.”  He glanced at his mother, emphasizing that he did not want her to hear the words.

The king leaned forward and motioned one of his advisors serving as a neutral party to lean in as well.  “Speak it for our ears only, Cailan.  We need to know.”

While still not wanting to repeat the words, he was grateful for the offered compromise.  He moved closer to the two men and whispered as quietly as he could what had been said about him being sent away to take it up his back door.  He then pulled back and finished the rest of the encounter.

“The men then claimed I had failed even in that role and that I had been sent back,” he concluded.

There was a long moment of silence before one of the advisors spoke hesitantly.  “Is it possible, Prince Cailan, that you were looking to…make things even…with this man when you spoke with Prince Eleron about mistakes in the drill performance?”

Hot fire coursed through Cailan at his honor and truthfulness once again being questioned.  He lifted his head, not hiding his scowl at the insinuation.  “I was asked to give an honest assessment, and I did.  If my truthfulness is in question, then I don’t know why Eleron would have requested my evaluation of the men to begin with.”

“Your honesty is not being questioned, Cailan,” Abed assured from where he sat.  “I attended a practice session with Eleron two days ago and pointed out some of the same men that you and Father noticed today, including the soldier who confronted you.  We’re just trying to get every aspect possible of what happened today so we can make a fair decision.”

Cailan knew that, but he was done with the interrogation and right then he just wished to be left alone.  “Have you spoken with the others involved yet?”

The king nodded.  “We have talked to your antagonist as well as Leader Jarek.  I wish yet to speak with some of the soldiers who witnessed what happened today, but I believe we’ve heard the full story.”

“Then, with your permission, I’d like to have some privacy for a time,” Cailan requested.

The whole group of them seemed slightly taken aback at the request, but Cailan knew he’d voiced his wish respectfully and without dishonoring anyone.

The king rose and everyone else followed his example and stood as well. 

“The rest of the afternoon is yours then.  Your mother and I will see you for the meal this evening though.”

“Yes, Father,” Cailan assented. 

He stood as well and courteously walked the group to the door.  When they were gone he settled down in a chair to look out his bedroom window.  He thought he’d have the rest of the afternoon to himself; and honestly, he rather wanted to just mope in peace for a while, but fifteen minutes after the group left, there was a knock on his door.

He sighed and didn’t even bother getting up.  “Enter!” he called.

The door opened and he turned his head enough to see Eleron come back into his room.  The man had an aura of purpose and hesitation surrounding him.  When he approached Cailan, he bobbed his head questioningly toward a chair instead of just sitting down. 

“May I sit, little brother?”

If was odd for any of his brothers to show such a lack of pretention to him, but Cailan nodded somewhat warily.  “I guess.  What do you want?”

Eleron sat, his posture a bit stiff as he looked to Cailan.  “I know you asked for some privacy, but I just wanted to say…that if you really want to be bonded to Leader Jarek, it’s alright with me.”

Cailan blinked in surprise.  “Really?  You’ve given me the impression you don’t approve.”

Eleron leaned back and crossed his arms.  “I don’t…like it…but that doesn’t mean that I don’t approve.”

Cailan shook his head.  “That doesn’t make any sense.”

Eleron let out an unexpected laugh that was clearly directed at himself.  “Yeah, I know.  Listen, little brother.  I don’t like a lot of things about this.  I don’t like you bonding to a man, or that he’s a foreigner, or that he can say he owned you, or a lot of other things; but I do respect a man who will defend your honor and the honor of our family.  He cares about you, and I approve of that.”

Cailan studied the other man.  “So you approve of him because he stood up for me today?”

Eleron nodded.  “That, and because Abed has been talking to me.  He’s told me the struggles you’ve been facing since you’ve been back.  I didn’t want to believe him until I saw what happened and heard what one of my own men was saying about you.”  He looked frustrated.  “My soldier still doesn’t seem to understand why what he did is so serious.”

Cailan huffed.  “I know exactly why he doesn’t think it’s serious.”

“You do?” Eleron questioned in surprise.

“Of course I do!  He doesn’t think it’s a big deal because he believes, just like everyone else in the land, that me being a silver-born means I am not strong, talented, or worthy of respect.  In his words, I am a blight.” 

Cailan leaned forward and looked seriously at his older brother.  “I have spent my whole life facing that attitude and hearing words like that.  Granted, they are usually said behind my back and not to my face, but I’ve still heard them.  I am tolerated in Arten because I was born to the king, but I have never been truly accepted, and now I have the stigma of being a concubine as well as a silver-born added to my name.”

Eleron looked bothered.  “I know it’s hard to be a silver-born, Cailan, but you’re accepted by your family.  We love you.”

Cailan shook his head.  “You can’t say truly that I am accepted, even among the family, Eleron.  You love me as a brother and our parents love me as a son, but how often have you treated me as an equal to any other Artenian man?  Why has the royal family disregarded the times I’ve been ridiculed for the way I was born unless it was too blatant to be ignored?  Why have our people not been taught to be accepting and encouraging to someone who is different, but just as good in his or her own way?”  Cailan choked up slightly as he asked his last question.  “Why, when King Alaric said his country would take me as a concubine, did no one—not my father, mother, or brothers—plead on my behalf as I did for Doron?”

Eleron looked distressed.  “That’s not fair, Cailan.  We would have stopped it if we could?”

“I’m not saying you wouldn’t have or that you could have changed what happened, brother.  I am saying that no one stood up for me in that moment.  And,” he continued, “I’m fairly sure no one even considered another option that would have kept me from being taken.”

“What option?” Eleron asked reluctantly. 

Cailan deliberately met his gaze.  “Someone could have volunteered their servitude instead of letting me be the one taken.”

The shock on the elder brother’s face proved that alternative had never occurred to him.  He swallowed several times before he could speak, his eyes surprisingly moist, which was something Cailan couldn’t ever remember seeing on this particular brother. 

“I’m sorry, Cailan.  You’re right.  That choice never occurred to me.  We did bring you back though.”

Cailan nodded.  “I know, and it made me feel good that you loved me and could see past the color of my hair enough to want me back; but again, I think no one thought through what it would mean for me.  I am looked down on by my own people even more now, and no one will readily accept me as a soldier or a husband at this point.  I’m not just a silver-born anymore; now I’m a tainted one.”

Eleron sighed.  “But Jarek wants you.”

“Yes, he does.  Despite how awful it was to be handed over to the Cylandrean royal palace, I am glad now that I was the one taken.  Events that happened while I was there showed me that I was where I needed to be.  But more than that, Jarek cares about me.  He has never looked down on me.  While in Cylandrea he let me train with him and his soldiers.  I was able to show what I am capable of and I earned the respect of the military men who saw me.  He has treated me nobly, and because of that yes, I did come to love him…and he to love me.  Today Jarek defended me out of love and respect for me.  He didn’t ignore the insult.  He upheld my honor.”

Eleron’s expression was rueful.  “And you probably feel like all the rest of us have done today is question it?”

“That’s partly true,” Cailan admitted.  “I know how protocol requires a situation like this with your soldier handled, but it would have been nice to be believed immediately by you and father about what had occurred.”

“It’s not that we didn’t believe you, but we saw a foreigner attacking one of our own and we had to get to the bottom of it.”

“No, that’s what you assumed you saw.  What you were really seeing was a man we have an alliance with and who wishes to be betrothed to me proving how worthy he is and maintaining the respect due to our kingdom’s royal house.”

“I know that now!” Eleron insisted.

“Yes, but why do I feel that your mind was changed toward Jarek only after one of your other men approached you and confessed that it had not been the first time I was belittled by one of your soldiers?”

Clearly shocked, Eleron took a moment to respond.  “His confession helped,” he admitted, “but that should please you.”

“It does please me that there is a man with that integrity serving you and Father.  What discourages me is that I told you what happened on that field today and it took the words of someone who is a stranger to me, and an interrogation of the rest of us, for you to believe me.  The words of your soldier were more powerful than the words of your brother.  I have never lied to you, Eleron, but my integrity was still called into question, as was Jarek’s.  I can’t help but wonder what conclusion you and Father would have drawn if your soldier had not spoken in our defense.”

Eleron had gained the look of a man weighted down.  “What do you want of us, Cailan?”

“What I’ve always wanted…to be seen and treated as an equal; to not be looked down on or thought less simply because of how I was born.  But just as much, right now, I want my family’s blessing on my joining to Jarek, because he’s good for me and I think I’m good for him.”  He met Eleron’s eyes in a steady gaze.  “Thank you for coming in and telling me you approve, even if you don’t like it.”

Eleron sighed.  “I’ll try harder, ok?”

Cailan offered a small but sincere smile.  “Thank you.”

Neither man really knew what to say then, but after some consideration, Cailan made a request of his brother.  “Will you come to dinner tonight with our parents and Jarek and me?  I do want all of you to know him better and recognize that he’s a good man.”

Eleron look willing as well as thoughtful.  “I will, and I’ll do one better.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just what I said.  I’ll make it better.  I’ll be there tonight, I promise.”

The older brother stood then and motioned like he was about to ruffle Cailan’s hair, but at last second he appeared to change his mind, and instead let his hand drop to Cailan’s shoulder and squeeze it in a way Cailan had only ever seen him do with the oldest brother, Abed. 

          After that he left, leaving Cailan thoughtful, but appreciative to again have some privacy and time to contemplate things.