Page 56 of A Brat's Tale
“I wasn’t planning on it. I just don’t want him hunting down Aldrien Elves and murdering them.”
“If he wants to, there will be no stopping him. Not to worry, the king will calm him down. Your father does get a bit unreasonablewhen it’s you, but he’s always respected Vilsarion and Vilsarion has always respected Arcade.”
Papa helps me dress into clothes that are more my style and we visit, until Father storms in. “Tristan, a word somewhere private,” he demands, with only Corrik trailing behind him. Corrik looks worse for wear.
“This way, sir,” I say leading him to the library.
I’m only just setting foot in the library when I hear the ring of steel. It’s a sound I’d know anywhere, and I don’t have to think about my next move, only to jump into action. Father taught me that any situation can turn into a battle, that I have to be prepared. If there’s time to map out a room as to how I’d defend myself in it, then I should be going over multiple scenarios while I can. Father would often quiz me on such things and the penalty for missing anything was severe, since failing to do so could mean my life.
This is no more than another test and I am prepared.
I dive for the table and slide underneath coming out the other side with the long curtain rod stashed there. They are made of Elven steel, which makes for far better weapons than curtain hangers anyway. I round on Father to block his sword coming down at me and push him back. I use the dance Bayaden taught me, and my speed has improved trying to keep up with Elves. All my practice with a bow has improved my sight and therefore the sensory input to my brain, which results in better sensory output. I’m quick like lightning and disarm him with nothing but my curtain rod.
It does take some time, we destroy the desk and a lamp, but I do. I reach down to help him up; he, naturally, refuses. When he stands, he’s beaming and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Father beam so widely at me. At Papa, loads of times, but not at me. “You are my son and you are not hexed. That was incredible. Markaytia lost itself a formidable Warlord.” Pride shines out of every part of him, he doesn’t even have to say it and I know.
This might be the best moment of my life.
“Does that mean I get to stay, Father?”
“Much to my dismay. Tristan, are you sure you’re all right? You tellme now. I want the truth now.”
I may have just kicked his arse in combat, but I do not doubt he’ll kick mine if he even suspects I’m lying. “I don’t like the part where I’m being held prisoner in a place that’s meant to be my home, but other than that I am fine, sir.”
He’s at war with himself about something and then he makes a decision. When he does, he pulls me to him. “You became an excellent warrior, despite Papa’s blatant coddling of you, I suppose it’s all right I do this.”
I try to hold back tears, but I can’t. “It’s more than all right, Father.” I squeeze him tight. I remember the times in the Aldrien dungeon—they were terrifying. I could have been left there to rot for all I knew at the time and had Bayaden not taken to me, I might have been rotting there still. Father’s ways prepared me for that. I am grateful.
But my sons and daughters will always get lots of hugs.
I’m also reminded of whatthisfeels like and how it’s lacking with me and Corrik at the moment. Yes, he won’t hesitate to spank me, but it’s not the same asthis. The thing I have in me is more than just spanking, it’s a whole system. A circle. I need the soothing hugs and cuddles as much as I need to be turned over Corrik’s knee. I need his solid form and to know that he’s got me. I feel all of this from Father in one embrace.
When we part, he sets a hand on my shoulder. “Now that I am calm, I see that you are more than all right, you look healthy, bigger. You don’t look like you’ve been a prisoner for a year.”
“I wasn’t, not really. I was treated well. I was given to the Warlord.”
He’s angry. “Markaytia has already declared war with Aldrien alongside Mortouge as per the marriage contract.”
So, Andothair has his war then.
“Father, please. Call it off. It was all a huge batch of idiocy that was truly Andothair’s fault. If anything, blame him and only him.” I’m fine throwing him under the cart. Andothair deserves it.
“It’s not that simple Tristan. They have committed a grave crime by abducting a member of royalty, punishable by Markaytian andMortougian law. The perpetrators must be found and executed. If we do not, we will appear weak.”
By the Gods, this is a mess. “Father, please. I don’t want them dying on my account.”
“I’m sorry, my son. In time, you will see why we must do these things.”
Good Gods, between him and Corrik with that line.“And the Elven king agrees?”
“Yes.”
Ugh.
That is a problem for another day. “What about my confinement?”
“Corrik has given me a more detailed picture of what they face and why he made the decisions he has.” This is not looking good for me. “I’m sorry, but he is right, and I would feel better about it too, with you under full protection. However, he has sworn that when you are Elf, you will be free again. There is no such thing as completely safe, but you are human in a land of Elves, you don’t have equal footing. Once you do, I will feel better considering all factors at play.”
I don’t mean to cross my arms at Father, but I do. I had been hoping something could be done about this situation, and my hopes had ratcheted up a few notches. I can’t help my glowering.
