Chapter 25 Park

My great-grandmother was the last one of our family to be honored. My father and his mother were nearly given to the Archery Master but my own mother fought the magi to save him and killed two priests. The Most Revered was impressed and decided that since he was only part Reback he could stay with us, although his mother was sent away. — Prince Eater #34

Over the next few dimmings, no one approached Seán or Jon threateningly and no dangerous overtures came from any direction so Jon and Erienne began to feel that it would be safe to walk with Seán through the city. One bright morning they decided to stroll several blocks to one of the small parks nestled in a shopping district. Before he left to go to his job for the day, Alec expressed his misgivings.

“The procurers are dead,” Erienne grumbled. “No one else is after Seán.”

“Many of the people in the crowd were brothel owners and could be biding their time,” Alec retorted. “Besides, Holy King Harrison and Ava Most Revered are bound to be searching for him.”

“You worry too much,” Erienne replied.

“Alec’s right,” Jon said, rethinking their plans. “There have to be agents from Hilltown searching for us.”

“Alec’s-right-Alec’s-right-Alec’s-right,” Erienne parroted. “Don’t you ever think for yourself, Jon? You’re the prince, not him.”

“No one’s a prince in SnakeIn,” Seán commented.

“Watch your tongue, young man,” Erienne said. “I’m about to take a switch to you.”

Alec stomped between Seán and Erienne and said menacingly, “If you touch him at all, even so much as one hair on his head, I will break every finger on both your hands.”

“Alec!” Jon shouted as Erienne stepped back uneasily.

“You won’t have to,” Seán said with youthful bravado from the safety behind Alec. “I’ll do it myself.”

“Seán!” Jon yelled as Erienne stepped back farther. “No one is going to switch anyone! No one is going to break anyone’s fingers either. I’m ashamed of you, Alec. How could you even say such a thing?” Jon hobbled over to the hooks on the wall near the door, took down his jacket, and said, “We’ll stay nearby. There’s that little park only just down the way. I need fresh air.”

“I want to do some shopping while we’re out,” Erienne said. “Maybe we can take a hackney carriage to the shopping district, and then walk from there.”

“Figgict,” Alec said vehemently. He stomped over to his duffel bag, dug into the depths of it, and then surfaced with a leather sheath containing a long dagger.

“Jon doesn’t need that,” Erienne refused as Alec turned with the weapon in his hand.

“I do,” Seán spoke up.

“You have the one Craig gave you,” Alec commented. “Get that out and wear it. Jon, this is for you.”

“Will you help me put it on?” Jon asked him. “I can’t bend my arm around my back easily.”

As Alec assisted Jon to position the knife so he could quickly reach it, Erienne lifted one finger at Seán and squinted as if in a warning. Jon put a hand on her forearm and forced it down, saying, “Don’t, Erienne. No one here can stop Alec if he makes good on his warning.”

“I’ll call the Watch —” She protested.

“Padraig will agree with Alec,” Jon said. “He won’t intervene because you threatened to hurt a child.”

“Let me make it perfectly clear, Erienne,” Alec said with a scowl. “You have no authority over anything Seán says or does. None whatsoever and you are not to speak like that to him again.”

“You don’t own me,” Erienne huffed. “I’ll say and do whatever I want.”

“Stop, Erienne,” Jon said, placing himself in front of her. “You have no authority over Seán, and you are not to talk to him that way.” When she opened her mouth to object, he put the palm of his hand directly in front of her face. “This is your last warning, Erienne. Don’t.”

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“I have to leave. It’s a long walk to the wharves and I don’t want to be late,” Alec said as he moved toward the door. “Please, Jon. Use the knife if you have to. Please.”

“I will and we’ll be careful,” Jon reassured him. “And we’ll have Fia with us.”

Alec sighed and said, “Seán, as soon as I have a chance, we’ll go to the armorer and get you weapons. More than just one knife.”

“Thank you,” Seán acknowledged. “I like the one Mr. Docherty gave me, but having more choices makes sense.”

“Please stay together and watch out for each other.”

Three-quarters of an hour later Erienne settled Jon and Seán comfortably on a wood and gurygum bench, and then hurried off to explore the shops ringing the park. Jon and Seán watched children play and passersby go about their errands, commenting casually from time to time when something caught their eye, but otherwise simply enjoying being out in the suns. The wide playing fields of green and blue grass that stretched out in front of them hosted teams of youths playing various sports. Children splashed and swam in a wading pond ringed with Saint Edmunds’ Willows. Several Broad-Leaved Rain trees offered plentiful shade for those seeking respite from the glare of the suns.

On the next bench, a girl only a little younger than Seán sat with tears in her eyes and a slate in her lap. She studied the arithmetic problems written on the slate, scribbled answers with chalk, and then puzzled over it all again with her bottom lip sucked between her teeth. After a moment she sighed and rubbed out her calculations. This happened several times before her mother appeared from one of the shops. The mother set her packages on the bench next to the child, snatched the slate from her, and examined it. The girl’s face brightened with hope and then crashed when her mother shook her head and charged, “You can’t play with your friends until you get all of these problems done and done correctly. Do you understand me?”

“But Liam…” the little girl began, and then let her voice trail off.

“Liam did all of his arithmetic problems and got all of them correct. He can do what he wants.”

“But I’m hungry! ”

“No,” the mother snapped. “You won’t get anywhere in life without knowing math. Watch these packages. I’ve got more shopping to get done.”

The mother walked to one of the stores without a backward glance at the little girl, who sat overwhelmed with defeat. Two girls playing nearby hurried over to the discouraged prisoner of math as soon as they judged that her mother was far enough away.

“You’re so stupid,” one of them said. “You should have done this at home. Well, we’re not waiting around for you any longer. We’re going to get candy from the little shop on the corner, and you can’t come.”

The two locked arms and skipped off together.

The abandoned girl sank lower on the bench with the slate dangling from her fingers. After a moment she sniffed, set the slate beside her on top of her mother’s packages, leaned an arm against the back of the bench, dipped her head so that masses of red curls buried her face, and sobbed.

Seán raised one hand questioningly at Jon for his opinion. The older brother smiled and tipped his head in approval. Seán rose and strolled over to the bench nonchalantly. The girl didn’t acknowledge him when he stopped beside her, so he leaned over and scanned the slate. Picking it up, he said sagely, “Hmmmm. Yes. I see. Yes. No wonder you’re having trouble. These are jumping all over the place. That makes it hard to build on what you already know.”

The girl sniffed, lifted her head, and blinked her emerald eyes. Seán beamed a disarming smile at her. She sighed and said sadly, “My mother wrote them out for me to learn. I can’t do anything else until I finish them all. I couldn’t have anything to eat for breakfast and now I won’t get dinner this evening.” She dropped her head and muttered, “I’m so hungry and they’re so confusing. I’ll never figure them out.”

“My name is Seán.”

“I’m Grace.”

“I believe that you are,” Seán responded, agreeing with her name mostly to himself. He shifted a bag tied to his belt and rummaged through it as he asked, “Would you like me to help?”

“Do you understand arithmetic?”

“Yes, I do. Most of it anyway.” He produced a small bag of nutritious beet nut seeds and offered them to her. She stared as if wary of his intention, so he said, “Go ahead. I’m sorry I don’t have more. I’ll ask my brother if he has enough money on him so that we can get some citrus-ade.”

Seán trotted back to Jon, obtained the coins, and then dashed to a street vendor. When he returned with a stick of cheese and citrus-ade for her, Grace pushed her mother’s packages over and scooched after them to make room for Seán. He settled next to her, took the chalk, and started to use his sleeve to erase the slate chalkboard.

“No!” Grace cried in alarm. “If I rub them out, Mama will beat me.”

“We certainly don’t want that to happen,” Seán responded. He looked around and then suggested, “Why don’t we sit on the ground and use that wide, flat stone to write on? That way you can ask questions and I can point things out, and when you’re ready, we can come back and work on these.” She cast a doubtful eye at her mother’s packages, so he added, “We can watch them, too.”

Once Seán and Grace settled cross-legged on the ground in front of the bench, he started with the easiest math problems he could think of, and explained the concepts behind them slowly, using simple terms. The two of them passed her only piece of chalk back and forth as he wrote out examples and then she answered the problems he gave her.

Seeing that Seán would be occupied for a while, Jon rose to his feet, hobbled with Fia onto the wide grass lawn, and produced a small ball from the bag at his waist. Fia barked happily and bounced in circles around Jon until he threw the ball for her to chase. She ran, leaped up, and snatched the ball from the air. She pranced back to where Jon waited and placed it at his feet without needing encouragement. They played this way until Fia tired and Jon noticed a tall, athletic youth with the same red curls and emerald eyes listening to Seán and Grace. He had two new, unused quarterstaffs in his hands.

©2022 Vera S. Scott