Part Three
The Wells' Family Legacy
Thomas woke up early the next morning when the sun had just started to rise. The gray light of dawn was filtering through the drawn curtains hanging on the window of the bedroom Thomas had slept in. He hadn’t slept well the night before, the stimulation from meeting his father making it hard to settle down. Coupled with the sudden appearance of Hunter and the fact that it had been difficult to sleep without someone in the room with him--for years, he had slept at the orphanage, sleeping with all the other boys in the dormitory, and, since leaving Ridgecrest behind, he had either camped out under the stars with both Braya and Hunter near him or shared a room with Hunter--it had been near impossible for him to get a good night’s sleep.
Thomas got up, moving closer to the window. He opened the curtains and then the window itself, allowing the chill of the morning and the sounds of the chirping birds to make its way inside. Leaning against the windowsill, Thomas took in the view his window provided him with. He was on the third floor of the main part of the castle, right above the courtyard of the castle. His eyes moved past the people walking in the courtyard--even this early in the morning, it seemed that people were beginning their days--and he instead looked out to the castle walls, chuckling to himself as he remembered how Hunter had claimed to have climbed over them last night. Sometimes, he was surprised at the things his friend managed to accomplish, though he was beginning to learn that maybe he shouldn't be too surprised. He was starting to find out that Hunter was usually able to do anything that he set his mind to.
Thomas frowned as he thought about his friend, reflecting on their conversation last night. When he had told Hunter about what had happened so far, the reaction he got was the opposite of what he had been expecting. While Hunter had initially seemed very happy for him, that happiness had quickly disappeared and was replaced with emotions that Thomas struggled to identify. If he didn’t know any better, his friend looked regretful and mournful, two emotions that deeply confused him. What was there to be regretful of? What was there to be mournful of? Thomas had met his father and everything had gone well. So why had his friend looked so concerned about that? Was Hunter regretting bringing Thomas to the castle? Was he mournful over Thomas meeting Matheson?
Thomas shook his head. He was simply reading too far into things and Hunter truly was happy for him, like he had told him.
But that could just be another one of Hunter's lies, a voice in Thomas' head whispered. Abruptly, Thomas realized that the voice could be right. Hunter had already lied once about not knowing who his mother was. He could very well be lying about being happy for Thomas. But what was there to gain from lying?
"It almost sounds to me like you’re planning something."
Braya's words from their argument yesterday answered his question. Maybe Hunter really was planning something, something that kept causing him to lie to his friend. But what was that plan? How was Thomas supposed to act around Hunter if he kept lying to him as part of some ulterior motive? Yet again, Braya's words floated through his head.
"I would be careful if I were you, Thomas, careful of him and--"
“What’s wrong?” a voice from behind him asked.
Thomas spun around, finding his father standing in the doorway, a small frown on his face. Quickly relaxing, he said, “Nothing. I was just thinking.”
“About what?” Matheson’s voice sounded tired, almost as if he was exhausted from speaking with Thomas. Thomas shook that thought away almost as soon as it came to him. No, his father couldn’t be tired of him already--not when he hadn’t even been with him for a full day yet. More likely, he hadn’t slept well the night before or Thomas was imagining things.
“Random things, really,” he said, answering his father’s question.
Matheson didn’t say anything more, simply crossing the room to look out the window. Thomas watched him, not sure what else to say. After a couple seconds of silence, his father softly said, “I didn’t realize how much I missed this kingdom.”
Thomas looked out of the window as well. “I guess it makes sense why you would.” Matheson glanced over at him, prompting Thomas to continue talking. “Miss it, I mean. After all, this is where you lived most of your life, right?”
Matheson looked back outside. “Yes, but I haven’t been back here in well over a decade. After everything that’s happened here--failing my final exam to become a Tascelan Archer, my argument with Michael, my subsequent fall-out with your mother, leaving you--I would’ve thought it wouldn’t feel like home anymore. Now, though, when I return and I look out upon this land, it does. It feels like home, much more than I would’ve thought possible and much more than any other place I’ve been to.”
They went quiet, both drinking in the sight just outside of the window. Thomas tried to look in the distance, past the forest and out towards the road to Kathleen’s bakery and house. Mountains dominated the landscape, the same mountains that he, Hunter, and Braya had followed from Ridgecrest. He wondered suddenly how things were at the orphanage, if the twins and the other kids missed him just as much as he missed them. Perhaps they, too, were staring at the mountains like he was, thinking about him. He closed his eyes, trying to imagine what they were doing at that very moment.
In his mind, he could picture them clearly and vividly. He could see Charlie working on a new carving, a sunflower coming to his mind for some random reason. Myla was still reading the book on the fictional history of Eskil, her nose almost touching the page as she read, her eyes moving side-to-side as quickly as they could, drinking in the words of her book. Derrick and Erick were with Lila, running around the living area, waiting for breakfast to start. Levi was yelling at them, telling them to stop messing around, but they didn’t listen to him, their shrill laughter making him even angrier. Quinn and Jake looked on with a mixture of annoyance and amusement in their expressions. Ms. Jesse hadn’t come into the second building just yet, waiting in her office for a little longer than usual. In her office, Thomas could see her staring off into the distance, staring at the same mountains as he was at that moment, perhaps thinking about him at that very moment.
Thomas blinked, coming back to reality. He felt a pang of sadness and of longing, realizing suddenly that he was experiencing homesickness for the first time since leaving the orphanage and heading for Tascela. He quickly shook it away, telling himself that he didn’t live there anymore, it wasn’t his home anymore.
Then, he wondered what would be considered his home currently. With a start, he realized that, in a way, he was home. Home was where the heart was, after all, and for all his life, his heart had longed for a place with his family. He hadn't found that with his mother, but here with his father, he had. Here was his heart so here was his home. Then, he realized that he knew close to nothing about his home in Tascela nor his father’s role as the Aspayan Advisor in the Tascelan Court.
“Can you teach me about Tascela?” Thomas asked abruptly, causing his father to start and look over at him in confusion. “As you pointed out yesterday, I know nothing about Tascela, the kingdom that I was born in and the kingdom that means so much to you. I want to learn everything about it.”
Matheson nodded in understanding. “Certainly. I suppose I can start with the government." He frowned, appearing to think about what where to start. "The royal family oversees everything in the kingdom and they have the final say on everything. However, Tascela is a large kingdom with many people. Seventy years ago, Queen Marie, who had married into the Richter family and soon became the sole ruler of Tascela after the death of her husband, King Matthew, came up with the idea of splitting the kingdom into eight provinces, each with its own ruler called barons, who are appointed by the royal family. From there, she asked each baron to appoint a person called an advisor to sit on the Tascelan Court. An advisor’s first responsibility is to the people of their province. They speak on behalf of them and keep their best interests in mind when discussing matters in court. While the ruling family always makes the last decision, they rely heavily on the advisors’ advice.”
“So Tascela’s court is only made up of eight people?” Thomas asked. He thought back to the dining room, remembering that there were far more than just eight people and the royal family eating dinner in it.
Matheson shook his head. “The court also contains the Captain of the Guard and the Senior Knight. The Captain of the Guard is responsible for all the members of the Tascelan Army, minus the officers, and speaks up for them in the Tascelan Court. The Senior Knight is in charge of all the officers in the Tascelan Army and speaks on their behalf. Then, there is also me, the Aspayan Advisor. I am in charge of the transition of Tascela becoming part of the Aspayan Empire and I speak for Emperor Elliott, reminding the other advisors and the royal family of their loyalty to the Empire.”
“What about the Senior Archer?” Thomas asked, remembering Michael’s official title.
His father frowned. “The archers have been banned, so there is no place for them in Tascela’s court.”
“I know, but th--”
Matheson’s eyes flashed with anger. “I said that there is no place for them in court anymore,” he snapped. Thomas’ mouth closed quickly, his eyes staring up at his father. He had gotten angry quickly and seemingly without any reason. “They are all considered traitors now and the only place fit for them are the gallows.”
Thomas’ breath caught in his throat. Fear for Hunter’s safety swooped through him, taking with it any other emotions he might have been experiencing. When his friend had talked about the Tascelan Archers being banned, he had only stated that he would be arrested if he was caught, not killed. He wondered if Hunter knew what he was risking by returning to Tascela and by sneaking into the castle. “The gallows?” he breathed out. “That seems rather harsh, especially for people who used to be officers in the Tascelan Army.”
Matheson’s face contorted in anger, seemingly upset at Thomas. “They’re traitors,” he insisted. “They deserve to die.”
Thomas looked away, remembering the unseeing eyes of Michael, the way the knife had plunged into his stomach, how the blood had poured out of his wound to form a puddle beneath him. Would his father still say that he had deserved it if Thomas told him that his former mentor had died, had been killed by the soldiers of the Empire he was representing in King Charles’ court?
And just as suddenly, he wondered if Matheson knew who Hunter was. If he found out about Hunter’s true title, what would he do? Would he have his friend killed? Or would he change his mind about the Tascelan Archers if he knew that his son was friends with one?
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Deciding that he didn’t want to know the answer to those questions and that he didn’t like the subject they were on nor the angry look on his father’s face, Thomas asked, “What are the advisors’ names?”
Matheson blinked, seemingly surprised by the sudden change in topic. The anger in his face soon faded, disappearing just as quickly as it had appeared. “Come with me. I can introduce you to them during breakfast.”
He turned around and walked out of the room before Thomas had time to comprehend what he had just said. Then, moving quickly, he shut the window, realizing that the chilly fall weather had started to make his room cold. He got dressed as fast as he could, heading out of his room and into the sitting area just outside. Thomas glanced around the empty room, trying to figure out where Matheson had gone. The only clue Thomas found was the open door leading out of the sitting area and out into the hallway. Thomas hurried out of it, closing it behind him. He glanced down both sides of the hallway, just in time to watch the stairwell door on his right closing shut. He all but ran to it, hurrying down the steps to catch up with his father.
“Sorry,” he said once he did so, meeting up with him on the landing leading to the second floor.
Ignoring his apology and seeming to not even acknowledge it, Matheson started to speak. “Before we go to breakfast, a few things first. The advisors are a part of a higher social class than you, so you must address them by their title and their last name.”
Thomas nodded in understanding, remembering how the guard from the day before and Hunter had used the name Advisor Wells to talk about his father. Then, he frowned, being reminded of how the guard had corrected Thomas’ term of address for Matheson. “Do I have to call you Advisor Wells as well?”
Matheson shook his head. “In public and talking with the other advisors, yes. In private conversations similar to this, you can call me by my first name.”
“What about ‘Father’?” Thomas asked before he could stop himself. When he saw the man stop in the middle of the steps, not looking at him, he hurried to take back his question. “I’m sorry, I did--”
Matheson shook his head quickly. “No, no, it’s quite alright. You can call me that if you want.”
Thomas beamed up at his father, beyond elated at having permission to call Matheson ‘father.’ When meeting her, the term ‘mother’ didn’t feel right with Kathleen. True, he had called her that when he had left the bakery, but he had also felt like he would never call her that again. At that moment, it had felt like he was saying goodbye to her and any chances of considering her family, saying farewell to ever calling her that again.
Now, though, smiling up at his father, who had a small smile on his face as well, calling Matheson ‘father’ didn’t feel like an ending or a closing of a door on a desire that would never be fulfilled. No, it felt like the start of something, like the opening of a door. Thomas didn’t know what kind of story was starting nor where that open door would lead to, but deep inside of him, he knew that what happened next with Matheson would be good, would be great.
“So what else do I need to know about the advisors, Father?” Thomas asked, beginning to walk down the stairs again.
After a belated second, Matheson followed him. “Like I said earlier, eight of them are from the provinces. Some are loyal to the emperor while others would love to see Tascela rise once more as an independent kingdom, free from the control of the Aspayan Empire. The majority of them do not care who is in charge, as long as their people are happy and their families are alive. My job as Aspaya’s advisor is to find out where the advisors’ true loyalties lie. If they are neutral, I must find a way to sway them onto Emperor Elliott’s side.”
“And if they are against the Empire?” Thomas asked, jumping the last step of the stairs to land on the ground floor. When his father didn’t answer and instead began to stride down the hallway, he called after him. “Father?”
“I do not know what the emperor plans on doing with the advisors against him.” His words sounded pointed, almost as he was being careful with each individual syllable, like there was a hidden meaning underneath them that he thought Thomas should be able to decipher.
With a flash, thinking about everything he knew about the Aspayan Empire, about the boys around the Empire being drafted into the Aspayan Army in order to give their lives for the emperor’s quest of world domination, about the royal family of Malin being killed once they lost and Malin became Aspaya’s first tributary, about the soldier who had smacked him in the face for the sole reason of him being too slow to take him to his room in the Ridgecrest Inn, about how his father had told him that the Tascelan Archers were going to be killed, Thomas understood the hidden meaning behind his father’s words.
Emperor Elliott was planning on killing the advisors on the Tascelan Court that wanted to see him fall from grace. He was planning on murdering them for wanting to be rid of the Aspayan Empire.
Thomas shivered, his mind filled with the images from the people he had spotted in the dining room the night before. He hadn’t taken the time to truly look at them, but he couldn’t help but to wonder which ones of them were devising ways for Tascela to become free again. Which ones of them would die? Which ones were the emperor planning on killing?
His father continued speaking like he didn’t notice Thomas’ internal thoughts. “Emperor Elliott only asked me to investigate the advisors.” He spared a glance over at the boy. “And that’s where you come in.”
Thomas balked. “Me? Why me?”
“I need your help in understanding the true intentions of the advisors. With my history as a failed archer’s apprentice and as the Aspayan Hero, people are loath to tell me their true selves. The ones loyal to the Empire seem to only remember how I was once an officer of the Tascelan Army. And the advisors seeking Aspaya’s destruction can only think about the fact that I was instrumental in the rise of the Empire. You, though, no one knows. You’re young and seemingly have no ties to the Aspayan Empire.”
Thomas frowned. “But they know you’re my father. That must make me have connections that they don’t want to deal with.”
But even before he had finished speaking, Matheson was shaking his head. “You didn’t grow up with me. I didn’t raise you. That scores you a point with the advisors who are against the Empire. And you weren’t raised in Tascela. And that fact makes you even more favorable in the eyes of the advisors who are happy to see the emperor in power.”
Thomas nodded, though he didn’t quite understand how he was supposed to help his father with discovering the advisors’ attitude towards the Empire. They continued walking down the hallway in silence, Thomas’ mind filled with questions that he didn’t know how to bring into existence and his father seemingly content to exist in the quiet. Then, one of Thomas’ questions came to fruition and, before he could stop it, it came tumbling out of his mouth.
“What is the emperor planning to do with the royal family?” Matheson was silent, making Thomas uncomfortable. In the awkward silence that his question had created, he started to ramble. “The guard yesterday said their family has ruled Tascela for five generations now, meaning that they have ruled before becoming a tributary to the Aspayan Empire. If that’s true, don’t their real loyalties lie first and foremost to the kingdom of their ancestors and not Emperor Elliott?” Thomas paused and when his father still stayed quiet, he began to talk about the kingdom where he was raised. “After losing the war to Aspaya, Malin’s royal family was killed. Why didn’t the same thing happen to the Richters?”
Matheson slowed to a stop, not looking at Thomas as he finally spoke, his words spoken with the utmost care and caution. “Again, I do not know what the plans of the emperor entail, but I know enough to not question him and to trust that he is doing the right thing.” He turned to face Thomas, a serious look on his face, seemingly imploring Thomas to follow his next set of instructions. “I do not want to hear you ask any more questions about what our leader is planning. You cast doubt on him, doubt that could lead to people wondering where your loyalties lie. And I do not want my son to appear suspicious nor for anyone to question his loyalties. You are the son of the Aspayan Hero, a citizen of the Aspayan Empire. Be proud of that fact and do not let anyone begin to think otherwise. Do you understand me?”
Under the seriousness of his father’s gaze, Thomas found it hard to speak. Matheson’s eyes had turned hard, their icy blue color turning cold and sharp. Looking into them, he discovered that it was close to impossible to disagree with him, almost like there was only one correct answer to his question.
“Do you understand me?” Matheson repeated, taking a step closer. Abruptly, Thomas was reminded of the Aspayan soldier from days ago, six days before he had found out who his father was.
“You sure about that, boy?” the soldier asked, stepping closer towards Thomas.
The boy clenched his hands, lifting his chin as he looked the man straight in the eye, knowing that there was a defiant glint in his eyes. “Yes, sir,” he said, surprised to find that his voice was even, wasn’t cracking as waves of fear rolled over him. “I am.”
Oddly, the way Matheson was acting instilled in him the same fear that the soldier had put in him. That realization made his fear increase tenfold.
This was his father, a man he knew loved him, a person he knew did everything in his power to see him again. Why would he be scared of him? Why would fear be rolling inside of him? And why did he find it impossible to say anything? Why did it feel like any words he tried to say would just die away the instant he opened his mouth?
With the soldier, he had been able to push through his fear, to stare defiantly at the soldier and refuse to back down. Now, though, all he wanted to do was sink lower into himself, to get away from the hard look in his father’s eyes, to stay quiet. He didn’t understand the sudden change in character for him, didn’t understand why he never found it hard to tell Levi to stop terrorizing the younger kids, why he had been able to stand up to the soldier in the inn, yet found it impossible to even say a single word to his father or stand up tall. Then, it hit him.
He knew that, when it really came down to it, Levi would never do anything violent against Thomas. He was all bark and no bite, a person who loved to trade verbal sallies with other people, but unable to back them up. He got tired easily, backing away the instant Thomas told him to. If he was that way, then why should Thomas be scared of him? Of course he could face him and do so easily.
The soldier had been slightly different from Levi. At his core, they were the same: a person who reveled in making other people squirm--whether it be younger kids in Levi’s case or simple townsfolk for the soldier--but the soldier had one aspect to him that made him ten times scarier than Levi: he had the ability to back up his claims. He wore the red Aspayan uniform and he had a sword by his side. With those two items, he was nearly untouchable to the people of Ridgecrest. But Thomas had found himself able to face him, to not let himself be put down by the soldier. He understood the danger the soldier had posed to him, but he didn’t really care about that, not when he was surrounded by people who were frozen in fear. If standing up to the soldier meant him being hurt by the soldier for it, then so be it, if it protected the people around him. Besides, the soldier was a stranger and he didn’t care for his opinion. He didn’t want his approval nor his attention.
Matheson, though, was a different matter altogether. Thomas yearned for his approval, for his attention, for his love. If backing down and agreeing to his demand got him those three things, then that would be what he would do. Besides, there was no one around for him to protect, for him to defend. What would be the point of facing off with Matheson, then? There was no reason to antagonize Matheson. There was no point for Thomas to force his way through his fear, to clench his fists, to lift his chin defiantly.
So Thomas let his fear dictate his next moves, still not understanding why he would be scared of his father, letting himself shrink down, making himself as small as he could. He nodded dumbly, reminding himself of Lily, Myla’s friend and the girl from the inn that had been scared to death of the soldier.
“Use your words, Thomas,” Matheson ordered. His voice was harsh, so extremely different from what he had sounded like in their previous conversations.
Thomas licked his lips, trying to speak past the lump in his throat. “Yes, sir, I understand.” Even to him, his voice could hardly be heard, just barely above a whisper. They sounded meek, a quality to them that Thomas had never heard in his words before.
“Good.” With that, Matheson turned on his heel, pushing open the set of double doors leading into the dining room. “Now, come. It’s time for breakfast.”