I nodded my head, suddenly overcome with shame and struggling to hold back hot tears. Clodio continued to hold me. “Good,” he said. “Let’s hope I never have to do that. Now, it’s obvious that you’ve only recently found out about what happened to you as a babe in arms, and I suppose that could be seen as grounds for being angry. Before I put you down, however, I have one more thing to tell you. Are you listening?”
I was, but I was also beginning to grow astonished at the ease with which this man was holding me aloft. He showed no sign of strain at all. His breathing was easy and his voice relaxed. “Yes,” I said through the lump in my throat, while nodding for emphasis. “I’m listening.”
“Then listen well. I want to tell you something about your father. His soldiers and his people worshipped him. Do you know why? I do. I know why. Some people might give you a hundred other reasons, and they would all be true, to some extent … . He was tall and strong and good to look upon. He had a pleasant nature and laughed easily. He had a beautiful wife and generous, loving friends. But none of these things explain why he was so much loved. But this one reason that I know, this one thing alone, explains it, and the explanation is very simple, yet very profound: your father treated all people with dignity and truthfulness.
“That may not sound like much to you, at the age of ten, but it is an awe-inspiring thing, almost impossible for ordinary men to achieve. And yet your father lived his entire life behaving that way. He never lied; he never looked down on anyone as being lesser than himself; he never treated anyone badly, unless that person had behaved badly and merited punishment. Your father never had an unkind word or an insult for, or about, anyone who had not earned them. Childebertus of Ganis would never have spoken to me, or to anyone else, the way you did here today. Bear that in mind. If you are going to announce yourself to be your father’s son, then be true to his memory and to his honor. Be worthy of his name.
“Now, I am growing tired, so I am going to put you down, but when I do, you will stand there and wait until I have finished what I have to say to you. Are we agreed?”
I nodded, wordlessly this time, and he lowered me to the ground.
“So be it.” He stood squinting down at me now, plucking at his lower lip, his right elbow resting on his left fist. “Do you have any of that poison left in you? If you do, this is the place to spit it out, because I’ve heard it now and I won’t be too disgusted to hear more of the same … disappointed, perhaps, but not disgusted. Have you more to say?”
“No, sir.” The words emerged as a husky rasp.
“Good. Then we will treat this little episode as a bad dream, and neither one of us will mention it again, to anyone. Agreed?”
I cleared my throat. “Agreed.”
“Bene. I have been looking for you. That’s why I was in the stables. Chulderic asked me to keep an eye open for you and to send you to the old oak tree on the riverbank when I found you. That was about an hour ago, perhaps half an hour more than that, so he might be there now, waiting for you, or he might not. If he is not, then you are to wait for him. Why are you not in school today?”
I told him about my all-night session with King Ban, and he listened closely, nodding his head from time to time.
“Well,” he said when I had finished, “I can see now why you were so upset. Understandable, I suppose, that you would react badly to having your whole life exposed suddenly and unexpectedly as being different from what you had believed. But there’s no reason to flog yourself over it. You see that now, don’t you? Good. Now you’d better go and find Chulderic. You know he doesn’t like to be kept waiting, by anyone. And if you value your life, don’t use that tone of voice you used with me and don’t tell him you’re a king’s firstborn son and that he must now show you respect. He’ll puke all over you and then beat you senseless. Respect, you will soon learn, is something that has no price. You can’t buy it and it’s a thing you’ll never get by demanding it. You have to earn respect, boy, from one man at a time, and you can’t cheat in any way while you’re about it. You’ll see, someday, because you’ll earn it yourself and you’ll pay it willingly to others. Now go on, get out of here and find Chulderic.”
I had much to think about, although from an entirely different perspective now, as I made my way from the stables to the huge old oak that spread out over the placid, muddy waters of the deep stream that wound through the valley and formed part of the defenses in front of our castle. I set out still smarting from the shame that had swept over me as I caught the rough edge of Clodio’s tongue, but as I walked, my understanding of what had happened began to settle into a new appreciation, one that had been there all along but had been overwhelmed by my delayed reaction to all that I had learned the previous day and night, so that by the time I reached the riverside I felt far better than I had felt since wakening that morning.
Chulderic was not there when I arrived and so I made myself comfortable on the lowest bough of the great tree, my back braced firmly against its bole, then set myself again to reviewing the events and disclosures of the previous night.
“I saw your father sitting like that once.” I jumped, startled to hear Chulderic’s voice so close to me. I had been so deeply involved in my thoughts that I had not seen him approach. “But he was higher up, hidden among the leaves, waiting to jump down on a party of raiders as they rode underneath. He was sitting the same way, though, hands clasping his left knee, just like you now, and his right leg stretched out along the branch.”
I swung to face him, flushing guiltily as I prepared to scramble down from my perch, shamed to have been caught slacking when I should have been at my lessons.
“No, stay where you are.”
I froze, caught awkwardly in the act of turning my back to him, my belly against the tree limb as I spread my hands against the rough bark, ready to push myself out and away. Carefully, I eased my body around to where I could see him again, and he made a flapping motion with his upturned palm.
“Stay up there for now. Stay as you were, otherwise I’ll have to look down at you.”
Moving awkwardly and in danger of falling, I cautiously hoisted myself up to where I could regain my secure perch against the bole of the tree, and only after I was firmly seated did I dare to look over again to where he sat astride a tall, black horse, looking back at me. He had not sounded angry, and now it seemed to me he did not even look angry, and a sense of wonder began to stir in me. He had always been a stern, unsmiling, and demanding taskmaster, this dour old soldier, and I would never have suspected that he could be as soft-spoken as anyone else. And yet here he was, addressing me courteously without either scowling frown or rough-edged tongue.
“The King has told me that you knew my father, Magister.” The sense of the words was strange to my ears, and stranger still was my boldness in speaking to him directly without invitation. Magister was the term all of us boys used in addressing Chulderic, and it was a term of respect, as well as an accurate description of his rank. He was Master-at-Arms to King Ban and as such, in times of peace, his duties included acting as our instructor—we being the young men and boys who would eventually, God willing, become the commanders of the armies of Benwick. Chulderic was our tutor and our trainer in the crafts of war that we studied constantly. He knew everything concerning weapons and warfare and honor and the ways of officers and warriors, and we depended upon him entirely for enlightenment and guidance.