Green Moon, 5020 Avalonian Calendar
Sleep did not come easily to Shaundar that night. He tried several times to relax, but every time he started to drift, he would see Yathar’s frightened green eyes falling away from him, and start back to full consciousness.
Eventually he gave up. He took the wool blanket from his bed and pressed it against the bottom edge of the door to hide the light, lit a candle and gave himself over to reading. The first book he fished out of his school bag was Yathar’s copy of the Aerafaen, “The Song of Life,” which was the swordsinger’s code and training manual. He tossed it onto his bed with venom. It bounced against the wall with an audible thump and came to rest on its front cover.
He found the dog-eared copy of the Avalonian Imperial Navy Field Manual that he had borrowed from his father instead, opened it to the section on semaphore, and brought it and the candle to his desk so he could take notes. He dipped his quill and prepared to write.
He just about jumped out of his skin when a quiet knock sounded at his door.
Oh drat, the book! Someone had obviously heard the noise when it had hit the wall. Cursing himself for his idiocy, he opened the door. Then he smiled, relieved. It was his grandmother.
“Can I come in?” she asked as Shaundar stared at her. He already stood almost eye-to-eye.
“Oh, sorry.” He stood aside so she could enter.
She closed the door gently behind her and studied him with her intense blue eyes. “May I sit?” Shaundar nodded.
Grandmother Wintermist was nothing like the other adults in his life. She never forced anything upon him or demanded anything of him. She asked his opinion and honestly cared for the answer. She even asked his permission to enter his space and use his furniture or his time, just as if he were an adult and had a right to refuse.
“You never mind your father,” Grandmother said as she eased herself onto Shaundar’s daybed. “He just doesn’t understand you, that’s all. But he loves you.”
“I know.” He sighed.
Grandmother cast her gaze about Shaundar’s room and he followed it. There was the framed portrait of his mother and father; Ruavel in a Navy Lieutenant’s dress uniform, Selene in a flowing organza gown and tiara – their wedding portrait. There was a portrait of Selena as a baby sitting on their father’s dunnage. It always made him smile.
There was a small bookshelf stacked with neatly-organized books, and a map table laid out with an army of toy soldiers in mid-battle. His weapons rack displayed a wooden long sword, two short swords, and a bow. Maybe I ought to get rid of that long sword, he thought. His mouth flooded with the taste of something metallic and bitter.
Habitually he scrutinized the arrows in his quiver, but there was no sign of fraying on the fletching. He had already used his bow to hunt rabbits and the native oversized rodents that the elven colonists called niri, “little bears.” He had permission to hunt monkeys too, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Their little faces were just too expressive.
There were a few charcoal drawings of the family, Yathar, and Narissa fixed to the wall. He didn’t know if they were any good but he liked doing them.
Grandmother’s eyes came to rest on his model of the Telasian System dangling on strings from the ceiling. A full set of hand-built, hand-painted scale models of the ships of the Telasian Naval Fleet were interspersed among the smaller planets. The sun, called Lugh on star-charts, after the elven creator-god, was even enspelled to glow softly, though it did not provide good reading light.
“You know,” she said, “if you believe in yourself, then it doesn’t matter whether anyone else believes in you.”
Shaundar said nothing. He wished he could believe in himself, but he was far too aware of his failures. Especially today.
“Shaundar,” she insisted in a tone that commanded his full attention. He met her eyes, radiant with the power of her emotion. Their silver flecks flashed like stars on a cold night. “Listen to me. Your problem is that you’re trying too hard to be something you’re not. Be who you are! And never mind your father. He’ll come around, you’ll see.”
He nodded. Grandmother was probably right. She certainly seemed to know exactly who she was and made no apologies for it.
“Don’t blame yourself for what happened to Yathar,” she added, almost as an afterthought. “He’s just as responsible as you are. It takes two to monkey wrestle, I think.” She winked at him conspiratorially and patted his hand.
That lightened Shaundar’s mood. She knew just what was bothering him, didn’t she? “Did you ever monkey wrestle, Grandmother?”
“No, my friends and I used to chase each other through the woods with sticks. Monkey wrestling is much safer.” She shared a wry grin, and Shaundar laughed, though he stifled it quickly to avoid waking anyone. His mother often said he had the same wry smile as his grandmother.
“Get some sleep, Shaundar.” She stood up.
“Good night, Grandmother,” Shaundar wished her. She pressed her hand against the door jamb as she left. The door shut with a muffled snick.
Shaundar blew the candle out, grabbed hold of his blanket and threw himself onto his bed. That was when he realized he’d sat on Yathar’s book. To his dismay, he had already managed to bend one of the pages.
Well, nothing to be done about it now. He straightened it out as best as he could and tossed it into his school bag.
Shaundar had to admit, he was somewhat cheered by his grandmother’s kindred spirit. The cracked shutters creaked like the boards of a ship in the cool night breeze, while his winged ships swayed on their strings. He watched them until his eyelids were too heavy to keep open.
Morning came far too quickly. Shaundar dragged his weary bones from his bed. His shoulders and the muscles of his thighs ached.
He washed quickly in the basin because he was already running late. Taking another uniform from his closet, he switched the pin of his family crest, a stylized shooting star, over to the new collar. Rather than throwing the damaged uniform out, he stowed it away in a drawer. It would be good practice to try some charms on later. If only he could master some cleaning and mending charms!
He then attempted to tame his yellow hair into a semblance of order, and finally managed to smooth it all into a tight ponytail. Only then did he go downstairs for the morning meal.
Shaundar’s father was standing out on the balcony in a smoking jacket, puffing at his pipe, which Shaundar’s mother had banished from the house. He nodded at his son through the window but did not speak.
“Good morning, sir,” Shaundar answered hesitantly.
The Admiral turned back to watch the morning sunrise with another nod. Was he forgiven? He couldn’t tell.
He went to the kitchen where Lianna, the head cook from the Arianrhod’s Pride, the dreadnaught Admiral Sunfall commanded, was making a stir fry. It looked like hazelnuts and starberries in a honey-and-butter glaze, and it smelled like comfort.
Lianna cooked for the Sunfalls when she was on leave in return for her keep, since she had no family of her own. She was a commoner Sidhe from a world called Gorna, the primary world of a nearby system. Aside from their groundskeeper and their housekeeper, she was the only servant the Sunfalls employed.
“Morning to you, young sir!” she greeted him with a sunny smile.
As much as the Sunfalls were in disgrace, they were still part of the Seelie Court. Technically, Shaundar would be heir to the house, being the eldest, unless, of course, his father decided to name Selena as the heir instead. Not that he would blame his father if he chose to do that, all things considered.
But none of this was Lianna’s fault. He smiled back at her. “Good morning, Lianna.”
“Breakfast is ready. Have you washed up?”
He nodded as he automatically took the silverware and set the table. Selena had already laid out the plates and serving spoons. She remained quiet until Shaundar smiled at her. “Morning,” she said with a returning smile. Then steaming nuts and fruit were being spooned on to their plates.
They ate quickly. As they did so, their father came back into the house. He left the offending smoking jacket on a hook outside.
“Hurry up, children,” he admonished. “You’re going to be late.”
They finished their morning meal and put the plates in the wash water Lianna had drawn. Shaundar noticed that yet again, he had managed to dirty the cuff of his uniform sleeve. He groaned. Selena’s was still pristine, of course.
Well, there was no time to do anything about it now. Shaundar turned it around so that his father wouldn’t notice, retrieved his book bag, to which he hastily added the Navy field manual, and fled out the door.
Selena, who was much shorter than him, struggled to keep up. “Wait!” she called out at last. Shaundar slowed his breakneck pace and waited, taking her hand when she caught up. They ran together for the schoolhouse.
Out of the edge of his peripheral vision, Shaundar saw movement, and recognized dark hair and a pale moon elven face.
He managed to dodge the outstretched foot. “Run to school, Selena,” Shaundar said to her, and he spun around and raised his book bag to confront his attacker.
Laeroth Oakheart and two of his minions emerged from the starberry bushes where they had laid their ambush. “You’re dead, Sunfall!” Laeroth pronounced with an evil gleam in his eye.
“We’ll see,” Shaundar growled.
Confident in his superiority, especially since they did have him outnumbered this time, Laeroth closed in for the attack. Shaundar stepped to the side and let him have it in the face with the book bag. Of course, it was at that exact moment that Professor Goldenbough emerged from the schoolhouse.
“SUNFALL!” he roared.
Everyone froze where they were, except Laeroth, who was the one picking himself up off the ground with a bleeding lip this time.
The Professor closed the distance impossibly fast and took one of Shaundar’s pointed ears between his fingers. He yelped in surprise and pain.
Delighted by this turn of events, Laeroth immediately poured out tears. “Professor,” he sniffled, “he just smacked me in the face! My ears are still ringing! I wasn’t doing anything, just walking!”
“You lie!” bellowed Shaundar.
“Enough!” Lord Goldenbough barked. “I think it would be just like you, Sunfall, to lay an ambush for the boy, low-minded as you are.”
Shaundar could not believe the injustice! Tears of rage and frustration began to run down his face.
“Get inside,” the Captain commanded, pulling on Shaundar’s ear until he had no choice but to follow.
He dragged Shaundar up in front of the class. Yathar was in his seat in the front row, Shaundar saw with relief. He started getting to his feet before he realized he still had a splint on his leg, and was forced by necessity to sit back down. Laeroth was still smirking.
“Elan Sunfall has attacked another student,” the Professor announced. “Since he has no discipline, and his father the Admiral has forbidden me from striking him, let’s see if we can’t teach him some. Hold out your arms, Sunfall. Out to the sides, palms up.”
Shaundar lay down his book bag, which had torn at the strap, and obeyed. His heart was pounding. Where was the Professor going with this?
From a cupboard, Lord Goldenbough excavated two of their thick textbooks on elven history. He balanced one each on the palms of Shaundar’s hands. “Hold those up,” the Seelie lord said with a sneer, “until I tell you to stop.” With that, he turned to the class and began the day’s lesson.
His father’s admonishment, to submit to whatever punishment Professor Goldenbough saw fit to demand, echoed back in Shaundar’s thoughts. So be it, then. He braced his shoulders and determined to hold the books aloft.
After a few minutes, his shoulders and arms began to ache with the effort, but Lord Goldenbough carried blithely on with the lesson, sparing no more thought for Shaundar Sunfall. Soon his shoulders and arms were burning.
After a few more minutes had passed, during which Shaundar had begun to grit his teeth, he realized with a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach that the Professor did not intend for him to succeed. Shaundar saw the lord cast him a look out of the corner of an ametrine eye, which then widened in surprise and returned to the other students.
Yathar was beginning to fidget in his chair. Narissa and Selena were not concentrating on the lesson anymore. They all watched Shaundar with wide, horrified eyes.
Several more minutes passed. The Professor stole another glance in Shaundar’s direction. Shaundar’s arms began to tremble and sweat beaded on his brow.
Stubbornly he continued to stand as ordered. He locked his shoulders and elbows into place, even though by now all his muscles were screaming in agony. He was not going to allow the Professor to get the better of him! And he was not going to disappoint his father!
He risked a glance at the brass timepiece on Captain Goldenbough’s desk. More than half an hour had gone by! He had never heard of anyone being required to do this for so long.
The girls were beginning to look upset, and even Laeroth’s self-satisfied expression had shifted into a scowl that might have been irritation or concern. Yathar, unable to contain himself anymore, waved his hand to be heard.
“Yes, Yathar?” the Professor drawled.
“Sir,” he began, “it’s been thirty-four minutes…”
Yathar’s father cut him off with a snarl. “You leave Sunfall’s discipline to me, boy, and mind your own business!”
“But sir!” Yathar burst out. He clenched his fists where his father couldn’t see.
The Professor slammed his book down on the edge of Yathar’s desk. He recoiled. “Protest any further, Goldenbough, and you will join him.”
Yathar slumped back, defeated.
More time passed. Shaundar lost track of how long. He was dimly aware that at some point, Narissa excused herself to use the privy because she brushed past him, but the whole universe had degenerated into white-hot pain. His vision blurred, his whole body trembled, and it felt like every part of him from the base of his skull to his waist was on fire.
The door of the schoolhouse opened and Narissa’s father, Admiral Lord Elkshorn, walked into the schoolroom.
“Numilor,” he began, addressing Lord Goldenbough, “might I have a word…” He trailed off as his eyes met Shaundar’s.
“What did he do?” Admiral Elkshorn asked.
Professor Goldenbough waved a dismissive hand in Shaundar’s direction. “He struck another student with his pack full of books.”
Lord Elkshorn’s eyes, sea-foam green like his daughter’s, narrowed. “How long has he been like this?”
“A while, sir,” answered the Professor.
But Yathar spoke up immediately. “Almost an hour, sir.” The reproach in his voice was unmistakable.
Lord Admiral Elkshorn pursed his lips. “Well then, I think that is probably sufficient, don’t you? He’s not in the Navy yet, after all.”
Lord Goldenbough frowned but smothered it quickly. “Must have lost track of time,” he mumbled. “Sunfall, you may stand down.”
Shaundar gasped with relief and lowered his arms. The books fell from his hands, which no longer had the strength to carry anything. They turned immediately from an unnatural white to a hideous purple as the blood rushed back into them. He bit back a cry as fiery nerve pain raced along the same path. His muscles spasmed.
Shaundar slowly bent to pick up the textbooks, but he realized that Narissa had beaten him to it. She was standing up and offering the books to the Professor. She said nothing. Her oceanic eyes were glistening.
He reached for his pack instead, and found himself unable to close his fingers around it. They were numb. He tried a couple of times but simply could not force his hand to curl properly.
Lord Goldenbough took the textbooks from Narissa and observed Shaundar with detachment, making no move to assist.
After watching him make a few more attempts, the Professor’s lip curled into a snarl, but before he could say anything, Lord Elkshorn had the pack in his hand. “Where’s your seat, son?”
“Next to Yathar, sir.”
The Admiral carried the book bag over to Shaundar’s desk and asked the Professor, “What’s the subject today?”
“The history of Evergleam, sir,” Lord Goldenbough replied through gritted teeth.
Narissa’s father took the history textbook out of Shaundar’s bag and laid it on his deck. “I don’t suppose you know what page they’re on?”
“Page forty-two, sir,” Yathar answered.
Shaundar was amazed when Lord Admiral Elkshorn opened the textbook to the required page. “I imagine you’ll have to get Yathar to help you turn the pages until the feeling comes back to your fingers,” he told Shaundar in a mild tone. “If it hasn’t fixed itself by the end of the day, I’m sure your mother’s prayers will take care of it well enough.”
Shaundar thanked Narissa’s father meekly. He fought back his tears.
“Now,” said the Admiral, “if I might speak with you, Captain…”
“Av, elan,” replied Lord Goldenbough, and he followed Lord Elkshorn out.
“Thank you,” Shaundar said in a thin voice to Narissa.
“I had to do something,” she sniffled.
Laeroth and his friends said nothing, but their expressions were troubled. From that point on, though they might bully Shaundar if they caught him by himself in town or in the woods, they never did so again at school.
