by David Noel
“Apparently, we have a dagger thief stealing daggers out of everyone’s trunk,” commented Clovis, looking around the room to see who he could blame this mess on.
“We should check everyone’s trunk,” said Camden. “Since I checked Brendan’s, it is only fair that I start by checking yours.”
Clovis was aghast at this suggestion. “Why? My dagger was the first one to go missing; somebody else must be doing it.”
“It is only fair that we check everyone’s, and I will begin with yours,” Camden repeated. The big man went over to Clovis’ bed and Clovis tried to get in between him and the trunk. Brendan found himself admiring Camden’s patient persistence.
“This is ridiculous! You have no right to search my trunk! I did nothing wrong,” Clovis growled.
“Brendan did nothing wrong either and we searched his trunk. It is only fair,” Camden repeated as he picked the smaller man up like he was a small child and moved him out of the way. He knelt down beside the bed and pulled the trunk out from underneath it. A faint metallic clink could be heard when he did so. He bent over and looked under the bed and then reached underneath and grabbed something. He came up with a dagger in his hand. Everyone looked at the hilt. It had a large ruby set in the hilt.
“I guess Brendan was right, it did fall out of your trunk when you were doing something.”
“You said you saw me steal it and put it in my trunk. I guess this means that you are a liar,” Brendan added.
Camden opened the trunk and began pulling things out.
“What are you doing? We have found my dagger, there’s no reason to search my trunk,” said Clovis through gritted teeth. He was seething but there was no one to take his anger out on and starting a fight with Camden would end in a humiliating beat down.
“We are still looking for Brendan’s weapon,” answered Camden, “we will keep searching until we find it.”
Halfway to the bottom of the trunk the big squire found a long-bladed weapon.
“Is this your long seax?” He asked lifting it up for Brendan to see.
“Yes! That’s my seax and Sir Gerard can verify it, if anyone doubts my word,” the young squire turned to look at Clovis. “So, you’re a liar AND a fool? I knew you had to be one or the other, but both? That surprises even me.”
All eyes were now locked on Clovis. In a typical barracks with typical squires a challenge would have been made or a fight would have broken out at this point but this was a Centurion barracks and such things were usually avoided. Clovis coolly met Brendan’s eye.
“I apologize for accusing you of stealing my dagger. I didn’t see you steal it; I jumped to a conclusion that was wrong. I am sorry for dishonoring you,” he said calmly. “I honestly don’t know how your dagger came to be in my trunk,” but I can make a guess seemed to be the unspoken end of that sentence.
“I accept your apology,” the younger squire answered quickly, “And I forgive you.”
Sharp looks from Clovis at the other squires sent the clear message, “The show is over, move on.” Most of the squires began drifting off to do other things. A couple hung around Clovis to discuss the theft with him while Camden discretely made his way back over to Brendan’s bunk.
“How did you know he put his dagger in your trunk?” Camden asked quietly. Brendan glanced at him sharply.
“You’re smarter than you let on,” he finally answered in a hushed voice.
“For some reason, people seem to assume that if you are big and muscular then you must be stupid,” replied Camden with a shrug. “Throw in my poor Latin and thick accent and it completes the picture. I don’t try to deceive people but if they choose to underestimate me that’s their problem.”
Brendan nodded approvingly. “He’s been watching me for some time. I’ve gotten into the habit of checking all my things just in case. I found the dagger, assumed it was his and pulled the switch.”
“He is clearly trying to get you kicked out of the Order. Do you think this is about Miss Portia?”
“Probably,” Brendan whispered. “She’s been avoiding me lately and I have no idea where I stand with her, but Sir Gerard likes me and she let me wash her feet so Clovis probably views me as his chief competitor for her hand in marriage.”
Camden chuckled, “I notice that you conveniently omit the balcony incident. Do not take it personally, Miss Portia has been avoiding all the young men lately. I have noticed that she looks at you when she thinks no one is looking. I’m sure that Clovis has noticed it too, he watches her like a hawk watches a newborn lamb.”
“Really? She watches me when she thinks no one else is looking?” Then Brendan shook his head, “The odd thing is, I don’t even want to be in the competition. I really like Portia, at least when she’s not in a huff about something, but I’m not ready to be the Count of Carinthia, I’m not even ready to be a husband. I’m still learning how to be a Centurion.”
“That’s probably one of the things that Sir Gerard likes about you, your ambition is simply to improve yourself and be the best Centurion you can be, not become the Count of Carinthia. That’s why you may be the best husband for Miss Portia and a good Count as well.”
Brendan glanced over at Clovis and saw that he was sneaking little glances over at the two of them. Doubtless he was trying to figure out what they were talking about. “You might want to watch your back too,” he said to Camden. “He probably thinks that you’re on my side now.”
“I am on your side,” Camden replied. “It is true that God can transform men’s hearts and hopefully someday he will transform Clovis, but right now I think that Clovis would be the worst possible husband for Miss Portia and a bad Count of Carinthia. I am on the side of every other potential suitor in this castle, especially you.”
Brendan smiled for the first time in a couple of weeks. “We’d better get some sleep; we’re back on the horses again tomorrow and I don’t get along with them nearly as well as you do.”
Chapter 24
“Raising a child from the age of twelve to the age of twenty is like riding a horse, that is, it is like riding a wild stallion that has accidentally eaten nettles and been attacked by a swarm of bees all at the same time. You hold on tight and hope that you both survive the ride.”
The Centurion Guide to Practical Advice – Chapter 11: Proverb 1
It had been several weeks since Portia and her father had talked about Brendan and her future and she had done her best to avoid the young squire since that conversation. Unfortunately, castles are fairly small places so she was not very successful, but she tried. Mealtimes were the worst, but Brendan had picked up on her awkwardness around him and didn’t force his presence on her. Her mother, on the other hand, had no problem trying to put them together and that was why mealtimes were so bad. She survived most meals by saying as little as possible and trying her best not to look miserable and then escaping as soon as she could get away.
The idea of getting married was incredibly scary to her and she didn’t want to deal with it. There were a variety of reasons but the one she couldn’t overcome was her belief, deep down inside, that if she got married her father would die in battle. It made sense to her, in a strange way, that if she just didn’t get to know Brendan better then she wouldn’t have to make a decision about him and she wouldn’t have to get married. If she didn’t get married her father couldn’t die yet, because she wasn’t taken care of. Her head told her this wasn’t true, that she was just putting off the inevitable and that her father living or dying had nothing to do with her marital status, but her heart kept clinging to the hope that the whole problem would somehow go away if she just avoided it long enough. Her recurring nightmares weren’t helping her mental condition either. Not enough sleep and concern for the lives of everyone in the castle was really wearing on her.
Portia couldn’t discuss her father’s plan, her feelings, or anything else with Brendan; she wouldn’t have known what to say even if she had tried. This left the young squire very confused
by it all but then, so was she. Lady Evelyn was also clearly frustrated by Portia’s actions. Her mom kept trying to talk to her about it, but Portia avoided all such discussions like the plague. Talking to her mom about boys and marriage was just too embarrassing, it was even worse than talking to her dad. It got so bad that Portia started hiding every time she saw her mother coming or heard her voice.
“I do NOT know what do with that girl,” she overheard her mother saying one day from her hiding place under the bed. “I came in here looking for her to talk about Brendan and she’s gone.” Portia heard the door of her armoire open and close as her mother looked inside for her. “I thought I saw her come in here but she probably jumped off the balcony and is running around on the ramparts right now while we’re standing here looking for her.”
“No doubt,” answered her father. “She’s scared. She’s scared about getting to know a young man. She has always felt uncomfortable dealing with boys, unless there was weapons training or horseback riding involved. She can fight side by side with Brendan against a thousand enemies, but it is scary to talk with him about personal things and perhaps develop romantic feelings for him.” Portia had to bite her tongue, she wasn’t afraid to talk with him and maybe get romantic with him! Okay, well, maybe she was a little bit afraid. The thought of being held and kissed was both exciting and terrifying at the same time.
“I know,” her mother said as she sat on the bed. The mattress sagged down onto Portia’s face and she had to breathe very carefully in order not to give her position away. “It just amazes me that a young woman who has the courage to face winter wolves in hand-to-hand combat would run from a boy like a scared baby chick.”
“I don’t think she would run from a boy and that’s the problem, Brendan’s not a boy, he’s a young man. The other thing that we need to remember is that when she faced the winter wolves all that she was risking was death, if she talks to Brendan and falls for him then she is risking a broken heart and public embarrassment. For a sixteen-year-old, those things are a lot scarier than death.” Portia heard her mother chuckle at this.
“Too true! So, what should we do?” Lady Evelyn asked. “Aurora is waiting her turn to snatch him up; I can see it in the way that she looks at him. If Portia takes too long, she’ll lose the opportunity and we can’t blame it on Aurora because she finally did what Portia was too afraid to do.”
“What do you mean by that? Brendan and Aurora wouldn’t get married anytime soon. It can’t be an immediate problem.”
The Grey Lady continued, “You don’t know Aurora the way that I do, she is a young woman of exceptional ability and determination. If Portia drags her feet too long Aurora will decide not to wait any longer and make her move on Brendan. Once she gains the inside track with our young squire she will not let go of it and they will end up married, and that would be Portia’s fault, not Aurora’s.”
Sir Gerard sat down next to Lady Evelyn on the bed and the mattress sagged down onto Portia’s stomach. Now she had to suck in as well as breathe carefully in order to stay hidden. At least there was nobody else in the room to sit on the bed.
“She’s scared of even the thought of marriage,” her father finally said. “She’s scared of the king’s political plans, she’s scared of the growing problems with the Hungarians, she’s scared of the future in general. Portia has a lot weighing on her mind and heart right now.”
“I know,” her mother replied, “but things will not be better in another three months and they may actually get worse. She is the daughter of the Count of Carinthia and will be the future Countess of Carinthia. The time has come for her to step up and act like a young noble woman and not a child. You’re doing your very best as her father to take care of her now and in the future and she’s going to throw all that away simply because she’s afraid. She can step up, take the initiative, and choose who she will marry now, or she can wait, and have it forced upon her against her will if you die.”
“She hopes that I’ll stay alive so she can put off choosing.”
“We all hope for that,” Lady Evelyn interrupted, “that’s not the problem, the problem is, what if you are killed? In a battle you would gladly lay down your life to save your troops or save our people, and that’s the way that it should be. You cannot lead your men or protect your people if you are distracted, worrying about yourself and what will happen to Portia if you die. At best it will be an extra burden on your mind at a critical moment in the battle, at worst you may be tempted to sacrifice your men or your people in order to save your own life so that you can protect her. In the end, you can't even protect Portia that way. If you are so busy trying to stay alive that you lose the battle then the Hungarians will overrun the castle and Portia would end up dead anyway; or worse, captured by some Hungarian warlord and sold into slavery.”
Her father sighed, “She must at least start talking to the young men someplace other than the stables or training fields.”
“Yes, she has developed quite a vocabulary from talking to the grooms,” her mother said archly. “It might be best if she stopped talking to the boys in the stables entirely.”
Her father chuckled at this before continuing in a more somber tone, “If Brendan is not acceptable to her then there are several other young squires who might be. If none of those will do then I will find someone else. Even if she doesn’t get married yet she must at least start thinking about it now.”
Her parents got up and left her bedroom and Portia lay underneath her bed crying silently to herself. She bit her lip and forced herself to stop crying. It took a bit longer but she was even able to get her breathing under control and crawl out from under the bed. She was not going to be a distraction to her father and get him killed. She wiped her tears away and set her jaw. It was time to start acting like a young woman and not like a frightened child. She would do what needed to be done.
◆◆◆
Making her decision was one thing, putting it into action was another. She forced herself to walk past Brendan and say hello in the hallways instead of turning around and heading the other direction when she saw him coming. There were occasionally opportunities at dinner for her to serve him without making it too apparent that she was going out of her way to do so and he usually made it a point to return the favor. But as for actually talking to him and getting to know him? That was still an impossible task to her, and their training schedules did not give them very many opportunities to talk even when she tried.
Brendan had been training hard with the squires while Portia had been working hard with the handmaidens, so they were naturally separated, but squires and handmaidens trained on the same equipment and saw each other frequently in passing. Portia tried to watch Brendan as much as she could from a distance without making it obvious that she was doing so, but the other handmaidens were watching her every moment, so she didn’t get away with much. She caught Aurora watching him too and found herself feeling a little pang of jealousy. Then Aurora caught Portia watching her watch Brendan and everything became really awkward. Finally, Portia excused herself to go to the privy.
The next day it happened again except that it was Portia who caught Aurora watching her watch Brendan. Again, things were awkward until Aurora laughed, “I guess it’s my turn to go to the privy this time.” Portia laughed as well and the tension between them was broken.
“Why do you like him?” Portia asked finally.
Aurora thought for a long moment before she answered. “I like his humility…”
Portia interrupted, “Humility? Arrogance oozes out of him.” She paused thoughtfully for a moment, “though I will give him some credit, at least he knows that he has a problem with pride and he’s trying to get it under control.”
“That is exactly my point, we all have a problem with pride and most of us can’t even see it in ourselves. How many people from outside of the Order would wash someone else’s feet?” Portia’s back and neck tingled at the memory. She felt herself blushing and Aurora looked
at her suspiciously before continuing.
“Even more, he did it without even being asked. Pride is when we focus on ourselves and act as if we are the most important person in the universe. Even the person who mopes around talking about how sinful and incompetent they are is still focused obsessively on themselves and their own shortcomings. They may not have a high opinion of themselves, but they can’t get their mind off themselves. True humility is when you are not even thinking about yourself at all, you are only thinking of others and meeting their needs, or you are thinking of God and serving him. Brendan understands that and, while he still struggles a lot with pride, as we all do, there are moments when he sets himself aside completely, and serves others without concern for himself. I find that very attractive.” Aurora thought for another moment,
“I like that he respects women. Those squires who are raised within the order also respect women but many of the young men who join the Order from outside will say that they respect women when they really don’t.” She paused again, deep in thought, “I like his intelligence and his sense of humor,” she continued.
“Whoa!” Portia held up her hands, “his sense of humor? He has a good sense of humor I’ll admit, though sometimes he tells jokes that nobody else understands, but why would you care about that? You almost never smile or laugh; you’re the most serious person I’ve ever known.”
“I am NOT serious,” Aurora objected, “I have a great sense of humor, it’s just that most of the people around here don’t know how to tell a funny joke.”
“Like Brendan’s joke about the pheasant?” Portia asked, nodding her head as if she understood what Aurora meant.
“That joke was hilarious! I laughed and laughed!” Aurora exclaimed.
