Ruben rushed back to the castle. He passed the servants that’d usually collect from the carrier, but had no time to explain himself to them. He’d been waiting for the carrier at the gated outskirts so it took several minutes to reach the castle, and several more to make it to the music room.
His father was sat by the piano and beamed a wide grin when Ruben entered.
“Father! Father!” Ruben heaved for breath, “Something terrible happened you must run,”
“Surely running can wait? I’ve waited months to hear you play, are you going to keep a Duke, your father, waiting?” Ruben’s father chuckled.
“No father, it’s important, the king… the king’s going to… he wants you at King’s Cord,” Ruben struggled for words. He was panicking. Why would the king do a court summon for his father? What treason could his father possibly be capable of?
“Calm down son. What’s in your hand there?” Ruben’s father looked caringly to him.
As if just remembering, Ruben thrust the mail to his father. The paper’s ink was much clearer than he.
“Ah, is that your Wander acceptance letter?” his father winked.
Ruben was shocked, but his father was a duke after all.
“No, father read it quick, please!”
Ruben’s father casted Ruben a concerned look. Ruben rarely showed this much emotion.
He slowly opened up the letter. The hiss of rough hands on a rough sheet, the crackle of un-crinkling.
The king never done court summons to dukes, they were like family, all matters settled behind closed doors. At best this was a public humiliation, at worst… Ruben didn’t want to think of that.
His father’s hands started to quiver and his eyes went wide.
Ruben had only ever seen his father worried once, and that was when his mother had died. He looked just like that now.
He wanted to reach out to him, to comfort him. But even though their relationship was nurturing, they rarely spent any time together. Ruben didn’t know how to be intimate. He reached out awkwardly to give his father a hug.
“This…” His father faltered.
Ruben stopped with his arms extended. Was he overstepping his boundaries? Yes, it was his father, but he was a duke after all.
“Is just one of Jesp pranks.” Ruben’s father laughed. He looked Ruben up and down, “And he and I seem to have got you fooled completely boy,”
Ruben stuttered, he hadn’t realised how tense his body was. He must have looked like a mess to his father. He wasn’t convinced yet.
“But father it has the royal stamp.”
“Ah that’s not too hard for someone like Jesp to forge. Aaah,”
What did that mean, Ruben thought. Believed Jesp to be a wanderer, but he never managed to ask. He didn’t want to risk any of the castle staff overhearing his interest in such ‘crude’ endeavours. Jesp talked about a full life lived, he’d played his fiddle all over the kingdom. To think a man like that studied at Wander too…
“Was there more mail?” His father asked, eyeing his bulging pocket.
Ruben had slowly been calming down, but was still shaken by the question. It was hard to accept it was just a prank, the stamp looked exactly how he remembered it from whenever he’d seen the king’s banners. What if the Wander letter was fake too? Would Jesp really do that? Ruben’s heart started to race.
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He took the second letter out of his pocket and handed it to his father.
Ruben’s father’s eyes lit up as soon as he saw the green of the page. He handled the paper much more delicate this time and scanned the paper quickly.
“Yes, my boy! You’ll be a great man now. Follow your own path, I say.” Ruben’s father chuckled loudly. This was not the reaction Ruben expected.
Ruben’s father saw the shock clear on Ruben’s face. Embarrassed he coughed once and sorted his clothes that had become befuddled in his jest.
“You see boy, all dukes are obliged to steer their young in service of the kingdom, I had to make you study as my father did I. And with your mother around, she’d have nothing less than you getting the best of educations.” The duke sighed once more. “But life in castles isn’t as golden as it looks, something I’m sure you’ve come to know.”
Ruben couldn’t remember the last time he done something because he wanted to. Sure, he would never starve, but would he ever live either?
“But with Wander? Only the king himself can order you, you’ll be a free man, just like Jesp.”
With the look in his father’s eyes, this was the first time Ruben questioned how his father knew Jesp before he started learning music.
But it didn’t matter too much. His father was safe. Jesp was missing and he was going Wander, today was almost like the rest, but much better. And he had a feeling he’d see many more interesting days as a Wanderer.
Ruben avoided telling his mother until the last moment that he was leaving for wander. He didn’t avoid her, he just didn’t have the time to find her, and he was busy avoiding her.
Packing took very long. His father joined him in his room as he was finishing off.
“Here.” Ruben’s father said. He handed Ruben three rings. One gold, one emerald with a deep blue dot at the centre of its face, and one pure black.
“This is a sort of a new family tradition, my father did it to my when I became duke.”
Ruben knew his grandfather was a great warrior that aided the king well. He gained the duchy as a reward when they were splitting the land after conquest. He’d heard legendary stories about his grandfather, but mainly as tales his true mother would say to sooth him before she died.
“Each ring matters, each one much more than the previous. Never openly wear the first two,” He said.
It sounded odd that the most important was the one that people could steal. Ruben put the black ring on his finger. It was oddly cold, like it’s temperature was absolute and any ambient heat was irrelevant. He marvelled at it’s purity, it looked truly black and he couldn’t quite work out its material.
His father had always shielded him from being spoilt, and Ruben grew up never asking for much.
The king favoured dutchys with fewer wanderers. And in Ruben’s father’s dutchy there were virtually none. The king’s favoured would be like walking with wads of cash through the courts, getting the best seats at dinners, having more say on any issues. Honor was one of the most powerful men in the kingdom. Yet, the spoilt behaviour of other rulers and youth sickened both Ruben and his father.
Ruben hated even more the women of the court. They’d approached him, expecting lavish dates and gifts. He avoided the courts at all cost, but it meant he lacked friends there too.
Ruben thought to reject the gifts as he would gifts from other nobles when they tried to curry favour, but thought better of it. This was a father’s honour in a way. His father wouldn’t do this unless it was important. “Father, what if I lose them?”
“You won’t.” He replied immediately. Whether it was a declaration or good faith Ruben did not know. It didn’t matter then. He would not lose them.
“The gold is a gift of wealth; you may sell it. The emerald is gift of status. At the academy you may not share your identity with anyone. If anyone finds out your identity and you do not know theirs, you are both expelled.” His father said sternly. Then he mused wistfully, “But sometimes royal blood is useful,”
This was too much news at once for Ruben. If there was any time to ignore propriety it was now. He had many questions but he chose to start at the root of it. “How do you know so much about the Wanderers father?” His father never ventured outside the dutchy. Why would he know so much about wanderers customs?
His father gave a reproachful look. “They travel my land freely,” he said, “ As a duke, it is my responsibility to know everything going on in my land.”
Ruben didn’t like that answer. It was the kind of minced words he knew him and his father hated equally. Something felt off but his father already didn’t like the questioning. He tried once more, he liked to follow his gut on these things. “Have you met many wanderers father…” he paused for a second, “Is jesp a wanderer?”
Ruben could have sworn he saw his father twitch. It took a moment for his father to respond.
“He’s travelled all the land with that fiddle of his. I’m sure he has stories he hasn’t told you,” a forced chuckle came a moment late, an attempt to ease some tension. Why was this such a awkward topic?
He should have been excited, Jesp, one of the greatest men he’d ever met, might be a wanderer. And now he was becoming one too. But all Ruben could feel was a concerned knot tie up in his stomach. Something wasn’t right.
“Anyway, you can ask him yourself tomorrow. I’ll have him take you to Wander himself.”
It took Ruben hours more to finish packing. Obviously, they couldn’t catch game tomorrow, he’d only have seven days left to reach Wander. As he tried to sleep that night, excitement and worry fought to keep him awake in equal measures.