Blood of Quartz

Chapter 18

Erik found his father at the stables after they were dismissed, and they stood apart, silent. Paulin had taken Firestorm, nodding towards his father and patting him on the back as he passed.

"I'm sorry son," his father said quietly. "I did not know he would—"

Erik waved his hands. "What's done is done. I can't refuse, it would be akin to deserting. I also can't deny my ancestry likely is to blame."

His father paced back and forth a few times, the leathers under his braces creaking as he folded his arms on themselves. His father was holding in a large amount of frustration, much like he was, still reeling from the knowledge he was never going to be a farmer ever again. What would happen to his mother? Ylaine? He stopped and let out a frustrated curse as he kicked at a post.

"The earl seemed as upset with the news as I was," Erik added. "This seems impetuous and not well thought. I'm not a soldier."

His father grunted at that and twisted his lips. "No, son, you will be quite an adept soldier, in time."

"But this has nothing to do with my ability. The Duke is playing some strange game."

"Maybe. It likely has to do with my actions, I'm afraid," his father replied.

"No, Father. How—"

"The Duke can be a vindictive, mean bastard, son. He comes across as a harmless oaf, full of pudding and joviality. But if you cross him, you will regret it. He is cunning, and a schemer. I was relieved when he publicly forgave what happened with your mother all those years ago, but knew it would rebound on me in some other measurable way, veiled as a favour. I did not anticipate you being the one he would bestow it upon," his father said, cutting Erik off.

"Oh," Erik breathed.

"He knows that being commissioned into the King's Guard is a life sentence. He is well aware that I had hoped for you to be the head of my household, as we made it clear in the tent that we were hoping to return to see your mother and Ylaine. What better way to punish than to remove that security?" His father spat.

They moved away from the stable, out into the yard, the afternoon sun slowly sinking, creating shadows across the cobblestones. Erik watched a cat slink by, listened to the noises as the horses were untacked and settled. All things that were now familiar. Erik suddenly missed the warmth of the byre at home, the sound of the hogs as they dove into the slops, the chickens cooing in their roost up above. He even missed the smell, strangely. He did not want to forget them, and have them replaced.

"What of home?" Erik asked, looking across at his father, still cross-armed and looking away, down the row towards the outer gates. "How will we keep mother and Ylaine from poverty now?"

"I have asked again to ride out tomorrow for River Bend. I am to take Cerrin home, the healer has said his lungs are too weak, he would not survive the journey to Varaa by ship. I am to go with minimal guard, you are to stay behind and prepare to leave for Bethune with the Duke. I don't know what to do about our home yet, son."

"We'll figure something out," he added after a moment, and let out a frustrated sigh. "as long as I do so before we leave. I'm not certain, but likely all these boys will be sent to Darine, so there are many other families dealing with what we will."

Erik swallowed yet another lump in his throat. They were conscripted to fight a war for the King that was for what? More land? More wealth? It seemed pointless. Emotion burst forth, tightening his chest, vibrating out of him. He took his hand off the pommel of his sword and let the calm leave him.

"Gahh!" he yelled. "What is this for? What are we to do?"

Tears sprang into his eyes as his father pulled him into a hug, their armour clinking together. His father put a hand on the back of his head, holding him close, cheek to his temple.