The Serf and the Soldier

by Holly Law

  “And if it comes out tomorrow when the princess is here is it alright for me not to know who you are?”

  “That is the tricky part. Join me for a second,” Corden said and patted the couch beside him. Elara sat down grateful for the chance but noted Corden looked torn. He took her hand and seemed to almost play with it between his. He seemed very nervous, and she hadn't seen that side of Corden before. “What do you know about Corsca?”

  “Nothing really,” Elara confessed. “We only ever hear about the soldiers and then just enough for you to be frightening.”

  “Nothing about our culture then or how the country works?”

  “No, nothing. I know only what you've told me.”

  “Which has been very little.”

  “Yes, and that you are a bit odd. But that could just be you and not what makes you a Corscan.”

  Corden gave her a brief, amused smile. “Or a combination of both. Before I explain anything, I want your word you will not tell another in Brogden who I am. It would effect my safety.”

  “I won't tell anyone,” Elara promised.

  “Your country and many others have many princes beside their kings. They are connected to some older family they use to claim their right as king. Are you familiar with that?”

  “Only vaguely.”

  “As Brogden works whoever married this princess would be a prince, even if they inherited nothing and that title would stay in the family. So essentially two hundred years from now there could be someone claiming royal blood and is called a prince, but has no chance to inherit the throne. Are we still on familiar ground?”

  “Yes, I think the lord my family is bound to technically falls into that category.”

  “He does,” Corden agreed. “Corsca is a bit different. Those claiming royal blood have to be descended from a single man who lived well over a thousand years ago. Anyone with the family name of Daliscas is descended from him. Lady Elisa realized that and knew what family I belonged to quickly enough. Are you with me so far?”

  “So far it sounds the same, yes.”

  “Here is where it is different. Only one in the inheriting line for the throne of Corsca and his wife can claim the family name of Daliscas. My sister bares it at the moment, as do I. When my sister marries her last name will remain Daliscas until I have an heir and she is no longer in the line of succession. Any children I have will bear the name Daliscas until my official heir has his own heir. Does that make sense?”

  “So this means either, you have an older brother with no children, you're the crown prince, or a you're the king of Corsca?” Elara asked, feeling very numb. “But your father was killed so it is either the first or the last.”

  “Yes,” Corden said simply.

  “Do you have a brother?”

  “No, I do not. I have only my younger sister. I am the King of Corsca.” Elara could say nothing in response. If Corden had been the king of Brogden she would have been many times dead for how she had spoken to him and acted in his presence. It still did not fully feel possible. He acted as any other soldier she had met. He seemed such a simple ordinary man. “I get no reaction?”

  “I…you just seem so normal, Corden—am I still allowed to call you that?”

  “Yes, you most definitely are,” he replied at once. “And I am glad I seem so normal to you. Much of that has to do with the customs of Corsca. I have had far more training to be a common man than I have to be king. It has been nearly eight years since I received any training from my father to act as a king. I have spent the past eight years as a serf, tradesmen, merchant, and currently as a soldier. I have only been acting as both soldier and king for the past year. So for seven years I have had normal drilled into me. It hasn't worn off yet.”

  “And I don't offend you? I would never speak to the king of Brogden how I speak to you. I would never be allowed to speak to the king of Brogden.”

  Corden grinned. “Of course you have offended me on occasion. You offended me earlier when you called me both manipulative and selfish. Friends do that to each other—and there is no doubt in my mind we are at very least that. Someone needs to keep me in check with reality. Who better to do that than a close friend? Speak to me how you will. Nothing is different now than it was five minutes ago. I'm still the same Corden who has been giving you a difficult time for the past couple of hours by expecting you to live up to high standards no one has demanded of you before.”

  “Can we be done with that now? I'm tired of learning how to walk. I think I got the concept when I was one year old.”

  Corden laughed. “Yes, we can be done. How about this, we can sit and talk for a bit so I know everything is normal between us. Does that idea appeal to you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good, then I am going to get a hairbrush and take care of this mess your hair has become. That should keep us both occupied as we talk.” Corden disappeared into the other room briefly and reappeared with a hair brush. Instead of handing it to her he turned her slightly and carefully started brushing her hair.

  “I can brush my own hair,” Elara told him feeling awkward.

  “I like your hair, Elara, and this gives me the chance to touch it.”

  “I'm beginning to think your oddities are all your own.”

  “Most likely,” Corden agreed. “How was the harvest this year?”

  “Pretty average,” Elara said with a shrug.

  “Enough extra for the winter?”

  “It will be close, but it has been the past few years.”

  “Is the problem with soil or with weather?”

  “A bit of both. How were the harvests you went through when you were a serf?”

  “The first was horrible. Huge drought. I've never been so miserable. I begged my father to let me come home, but he wouldn't let me.”

  “And the second?”

  “The second was a very good harvest. I got to celebrate the Harvest Feast after that. Do they celebrate that in Brogden?”

  “When the year has been good, yes. I haven't seen one in about four years.”

  “A pity this year wasn't a better harvest. I think I would have liked to see you all dressed up with ribbons in your hair and what remains of the fall flowers.”

  Elara let out a short laugh. “What high expectations you have. I don't know how it works in Corsca, but here only one girl dresses up like that and it most certainly wouldn't be me.”

  “I would imagine it is about the same. The unmarried men sit around the week before and discuss who they think is the best catch in the village. The girl they decide on is the lady of the day and all the unmarried men do whatever she asks. She wears every ribbon in town and a very nice dress reserved for the occasion.”

  “That sounds about the same.”

  “You don't think you would get the honor?”

  “I can guarantee I wouldn't. That would be Lessie.”

  “I don't know. I think this Lessie would have to be an exceptionally charming and pretty girl to beat you out for it.”

  “She is, yes. It helps that she's good at everything a good wife should be good at. Lairk has been mooning after her for the past two years, as have the rest of the men in the village for that matter.”

  “And you think she is better prepared to be a good wife than you?”

  “No one in the village would argue that.”

  “You're certain?”

  “Very. I'm generally considered ineligible.”

  The brush in Corden's hands paused for a moment before it continued its slow and steady work. “I have a difficult time believing that. I think you under estimate yourself.”

  “You can ask, Lairk. I'm the joke of the village.”

  “Calling yourself ineligible is a bit extreme. No one expects perfection.”

  “My cooking tastes horrible, a struggle to keep up with the house work, my vegetable garden dies every year, my cloth has holes in it, every time I spin yarn I cut myself, and somehow when I wash clothes they end up dirtier than
when I started. Does that sound eligible to you?”

  “Not particularly, no,” Corden confessed. “You're really that bad?”

  “Probably worse. I think I did you a favor by knocking you down that hill.”

  “Not necessarily. I do not require a wife that can cook. I have plenty of servants to keep the palace clean. I have gardeners to take care of my gardens. When I need cloth I buy it and the same can be said for yarn. Servants also take care of the wash. I'm surprised you would refuse me when your prospects seem so grim. I would think you would jump at the chance for a husband.”

  “Call it stubborn determination to not have a Corscan for a husband.” Elara wondered if she should have given a different response once the words were out of her mouth. She had just insulted all Corscans with the king of Corsca sitting beside her.

  But Corden didn't seem mad. He considered her for a long moment, clearly trying to understand her reaction. “What's wrong with a Corscan husband? Being a soldier's wife at the very least, is more comfortable than the life of a serf, married or not.”

  “I have no interest in having a Corscan husband.”

  “Why?” Corden demanded again. “What have we done that makes us so unappealing to you? This is not the first time you have expressed your distaste of Corscans.”

  Elara hesistated a moment, feeling embarrassed by the truth. “You'd laugh at me if I told you.”

  “Thank you for the warning, but I would like to know why you dislike Corscans so much.”

  “Have you ever had your fortune told by a Weseen woman?”

  “Yes,” Corden confessed. “They're unnervingly accurate, but rare in Corsca.”

  “When I was about six a band of travelling Weseen came through our village. We put an older woman up for the night in our home. In repayment, she told us our fortunes. And, of course, you laugh off whatever they tell you as superstition, but you think and worry anyway.”

  “Of course, because they are accurate.”

  “Yes, which I discovered as the things she told others started coming true. That scared me all the more.”

  “I trust whatever she had to tell you involved Corscans.”

  “Yes, you actually. She told me when I was older a Corscan would take me as a prisoner-bride during a battle. She didn't mention I would get away, but it's been enough to give me nightmares ever since.”

  Corden let out a short laugh. “I've never been called a nightmare before. Am I more terrifying in dreams or in reality?”

  “The day of or since then?”

  “How about both?”

  “The day of much more terrifying. Since then not as much.”

  “I'm glad I've improved since then. Did she tell you anything else?”

  “She tried, but I wasn't listening. I was too upset. I think she felt bad about it actually. I remember she tried to tell me there was more that was good, but I didn't really want to listen at that point.”

  “Perhaps she would have told you that it was the Corscan king pulling you onto his horse.”

  “Maybe, but I guess I will never know.”

  “I suppose it is difficult to get over childhood fears, but are the Corscans you've met really been so bad?”

  “That would be limited to you, Corden.”

  “I suppose it would. If I were to try to take you in a battle again would I find myself knocked off Scratch again?”

  “Yes,” Elara said, feeling a bit surprised by the question.

  “Having no husband is better than me?”

  “Well, no, but…”

  “Then I will still have some hope that you will not be completely miserable if I do take you again and you do not get away.”

  “Shouldn't you be finding some pretty Corscan noblewoman instead?”

  “I think my chances of being happier with you are far greater.”

  “You barely know me.”

  “Part of my education as a boy was how to read people and what they are like. What I could expect from them and what I could not. I am very rarely wrong about a person and when I am wrong, I am not off by much. I know a great deal about you and most of it I learned within a few seconds of simply observing you. You have yet to prove me wrong.”

  “And what do you think I am like?” Elara asked curiously.

  “I think you are a very pretty girl who is very loyal to her family and to whoever else she decides is worthy of that loyalty. I don't think you give that loyalty easily, but once given you hold to it. When you feel something is your duty, you stick to it. You are kind and compassionate. You are a great deal smarter and quicker of thought than you let most people know. Unless provoked you are a very mild natured and would prefer to go unnoticed. Any attention you are given that is positive you shy away from which would also lead me to believe you undervalue yourself and someone encourages that in you. You are also very stubborn.”

  Elara laughed at the last one. “No one certainly argue that last one.”

  “You also like to be pampered, but that's a recent observation.”

  “Who doesn't?”

  “Some people like a simpler life. You will take what you are given and strive for no more, but you enjoy the finer things when they present themselves to you. And how do you think I have read you?”

  “Fairly well,” Elara confessed.

  “I knew all of that within a few minutes of knowing you. Most within a few seconds.”

  “You really read people that well?'

  “I have to. I also think you're tired and probably ready for bed.”

  “Very true.”

  “Go get some sleep. I will see you in the morning.”

  Treason

  Elara found the bed was still comfortable but she did not sleep well. Her mind was full of thoughts of the previous day. Too much of what was going on was outside of what she was familiar with. Corden being an ordinary soldier she could accept. Corden being a king was something else entirely. She had nothing but his word on it, but Corden had always been honest with her—even when it might have been better if he had not been. Every time she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep she had dreams of Corden dressed in grand robes telling her she was walking or eating wrong. She disliked those dreams and would wake with a start.

  “Do you really think this plan tomorrow wise, Corden?” a man's voice asked in the other room. The tones were soft and did not carry well. If Elara had not been having a difficult time sleeping she never would have heard it.

  “I have few choices, Rushal,” Elara heard Corden reply in the same soft voice. “Do you wish me to end up with that…” Corden's language at that point caused Elara to blush. She had never heard him use that kind of language. She realized he disliked the princess, but his opinion of her was very low.

  “No, I do not, but you are endangering the girl.”

  “Endangering? Elara will be fine. What can the princess do to her here?”

  “Here, nothing at all. But what about when Elara leaves and goes home? She agreed to help you with very little thought on the matter. Her actions tomorrow could be considered treasonous. The princess could very well retaliate against her for it.”

  “Viora will have no reason to suspect our relationship of being false. Elara is in no danger.”

  “I know you dislike the princess, but she is still intelligent. If she hasn't heard the rumors about your escaped bride, she is deaf. It is a common topic of late. I think you ask too much of Elara when she doesn't know what she agreed to.”

  “Elara returned to me yesterday. I can easily claim she changed her mind. Her prospects of marriage in her village were poor. She would have reason enough to come back to me.”

  “I'm not convinced and you should at very least warn your girl what danger she could be in. I don't think she realizes this is treason.”

  “No, I don't think she does. She thinks she is helping a friend nothing more.”

  “I can see why you like her, my king, but take care that you don't focus on her to the point of closin
g all other doors for yourself. She would not be a willing bride, even if you have friendship. If you do not take her in battle I don't think she would ever come to you willingly.”

  “I know. I'm going to hate letting her go tomorrow.”

  “But you will do it?”

  “Yes, I know which lines to never cross. If I forced her to stay, she would hate me and everything I love about her would be turned against me. I need a loyal, devoted wife, not an angry and bitter one.”

  “I think your father would be proud of you. Do you require anything else tonight?”

  “No, thank you for the updates and for being so patient about giving them.” She heard the door open and close gently.

  Elara's sleep was even more troubled after that. Never had the thought of treason entered her mind.

  Elara felt as though she had just fallen asleep when she was shaken awake by an unfamiliar woman. The woman gave her a friendly smile. “Good morning, Elara. Lord Daliscas wished for me to get you ready for the day.”

  Elara sat up with a yawn and noted that there was not even the slightest hint of light coming in through the curtains. It was not even dawn yet. “Before sunrise?” Elara asked sleepily.

  “Yes, remember you are meeting the princess for breakfast,” the woman reminded her. The woman went over to a lamp and lit it. The woman proved to be just a few years older than Elara. She was a very tall, blond woman who moved with the same thoughtless grace Corden had tried to get her to imitate the day before. Elara thought she was even more beautiful than Lessie. She wore a fine, pale blue dress. She looked a lady. The woman smiled at her. “I'm Justi.”

  “Elara,” she said with a yawn.

  “Yes, I know. You've been the talk of the army ever since Lord Daliscas brought you home.”

  Elara made a face. “I wish they had something better to talk about.”