King Edward, Part 3 : Différence entre versions

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{{Book |developpeur=  |sous titre=Lessons|auteur=Anonymous|titre auteur= |date= |source=[[TES 2 : Daggerfall]] |commentaire= |style=|langue=en}}
  
Edward woke to a red sky. The sun was just peeking over the western mountains. They were nearing a glittering tower, fire flashing from every facet. The dragon veered to fly nearer and shot a long blast of flame. A light flashed several times from the tower's top as they dropped suddenly. Edward's stomach felt very peculiar. He sighed and stirred and felt Moraelyn shift so that his right arm now held Edward. He stretched and yawned.
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The golden days passed swiftly. Edward spent most of his time in the company of his parents. He saw few other children. None at all lived in 'their' tree, only their wood elf host and Moraelyn's six Companions, an oddly assorted, cheerful lot. Disrespectful, Edward thought. None of the Daggerfall court or servants would dared have addressed his father as these did Moraelyn and Aliera with their constant raillery. But these weren't servants or courtiers. Just Companions. Only one was a Dark Elf. There were a Khajiit woman, two wood elves, brother and sister, a Nordic man, even bigger than Moraelyn and a strange looking lizardlike man, who spoke with such a hissing accent that Edward couldn't understand him at all. The Nord man was called "Slave of Moraelyn" or just "Slave" for short, although Moraelyn usually called him "Mats" of "My-slave." Mats tended the group's weapons and gathered wood for the evening fires. But it wasn't unusual for the others to bring wood; Moraelyn himself often borrowed Mats' axe and fetched and split wood if there was need, or if he just felt like it.
  
"Not much longer now. It's several days by horse from the Crystal Tower to Firsthold but I judge that Akatosh will have us there within the hour."
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They spent much of their time roaming the woods and fields, hunting and gathering produce, in twos and threes. Usually Moraelyn, Aliera and Edward and Shade went off together. They carried bows for hunting. When Edward asked Moraelyn to teach him to shoot better, he was told to ask his mother, as she was the better shot. And it was Aliera's arrow that brought down a handsome buck, although both arrows had struck, and they quarrelled over who's arrow had killed as they ran toward the buck.
  
"We're not stopping at the Tower? I'ric..."
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"Bah!" Moraelyn exclaimed as he pulled his black fletched arrow from the hindquarters. "I don't know how I managed to feed myself before I married you."
  
"Do not use that name so lightly, not even to me. The ArchMagister will not return for days yet. Unicorns are brothers to the wind and travel as fast, even burdened, but not as fast as dragons fly. You see the Elven homeland at dawn from the back of a dragon. Count yourself fortunate among men."
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"You had the Companions."
  
Edward's gaze roamed the deep green woods and rugged hills. There was no sign of habitation. "It's lovely," he said politely, "but not so beautiful as High Rock," he added out of loyalty and truth. "Are there no towns or villages or farms?"
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"Aye. Mats, Mith and I starved together, before we met Beech and Willow." Moraelyn pulled out his black dagger, Tooth, and began to skin the animal's body, calling Edward to come and watch. "You want to learn about animals, don't you?"
  
"The Firstborn live nestled deep in the trees. And they do not tear up the earth and plant anew, but take gladly what Auriel offers, and make return. Ahhh, the green smell of growing things."
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"Live ones." Edward said with distaste. His dainty mother was ripping the skin away with enthusiasm.
  
Indeed, the air was as heady as the wine Edward used to sip from his father's cup, before... "I'm hungry."
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"Such make tough eating," the dark elf said. "Give me your cloak; I'll make a package for you to carry."
  
"I expect so." A bit of shifting and Moraelyn's left hand produced a small leaf-wrapped package. The dusky hand was large and strong and looked neither human nor animal. Edward stared at it with revulsion, then took the package gingerly so as not to touch the hand. He felt Moraelyn stiffen and the hand that held Edward relaxed its grasp a bit. Edward felt ashamed of his reaction. It was neither kind nor wise to give offense in the circumstances. Moraelyn could quite easily drop him overboard. "I need to bathe, but so do you," he said stiffly. Moraelyn was deliberately misinterpreting the reaction, Edward knew. "Yes, I'm very dirty," Edward bit into the cake which proved much better than it looked. "My lady mother's used to seeing me like this, at least she used to be. But perhaps I should bathe first?"
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"I am a Prince, not a pack horse!"
  
"I think you will not be offered that choice. Ah, at last!" The dragon spread his wings, sent a huge gout of flame soaring skyward and dropped to earth in a large clearing. The landing was abrupt and jarring. Elves appeared quite suddenly and arms reached up to take him and Shag, who woke at last, ran frantically in circles, and then sat panting at Edward's feet.
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"You'll carry your share or you'll be a hungry prince this night." The elf had lost his good humor.
  
A tall elf with fiery hair like copper greeted them formally. "Greetings, my lord King. Your lady wife awaits you. Prince Edward, I welcome you to the land of the Firstborn on behalf of all its people. May your stay here prove pleasant and productive."
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"I won't. I don't want any. You can't make me."
  
Moraelyn nodded deferentially. "Thank you, my host. My Queen has waited long enough; we will go to her now." Moraelyn's hand on his shoulder steered Edward toward the largest tree he'd ever seen. The trunk was hollow; steps inside led up; openings gave out onto more steps and bridges along and among the mighty branches. They proceeded along these until they reached a large canopied platform, furnished with seats and chests as if it were a room. A golden skinned woman smiled at them and waved them in, then left. A tall slender, pale-skinned, dark-haired human woman paced toward them, her eyes on Edward. Only Edward.
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Moraelyn stood erect and appeared to think this over. "Can't I?" he taunted.
  
"Why did you leave us!" The cry came from deep inside, ringing through him. It stopped her several paces from him. Now her eyes lifted to Moraelyn, who said in a harsher tone than Edward had yet heard from him. "Thou wilt address thy Mother with respect, cub!" A glancing blow made his eyes water.
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"Edward, please..." Aliera appealed to him.
  
Aliera crossed quickly to Moraelyn and placed her hands on his chest. "Greeting, my husband. All praise to Notorgo for bringing you and my son safely to me."
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"Tell me, Lord Prince, how then does one get the meat to one's table if one may not carry it. If Princes may not carry meat then certainly Kings and Queens may not, or do Princes grow out of the incapacity when they become Kings?"
  
"Thank also the Lord of the Dragons and the Bandit, who could not have lifted the boy more neatly himself. The ArchMagister had somewhat to do with it as well." Moraelyn's dusky hands came up to hold her bare arms lightly and tenderly. He laughed, looking relaxed and happy. But the hands against his chest formed a barrier as much as a caress.
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"They have servants!"
  
"I am blessed indeed. But it has been long since my son and I have spoken. We may find words more easily if we seek them alone together."
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"Serve ants? What a clever idea. Only a human could think of that! Ants are excellent at carrying, I have noted, although I have not the trick of commanding them. Perhaps you can teach me."
  
Moraelyn's smile vanished instantly. "Are words then a thing which two can find more easily than three? Well. Perhaps. At times. Wife." He turned on his heel and left. The bridge swung and creaked, but his feet made no sound at all.
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"Servants! Like Mats here," Edward shouted. He hated being teased. Mats and the other companions had come up, having heard their shouts over the kill.
  
Aliera watched after him, but he did not look back. Edward felt again the curious mix of satisfaction and regret that came with giving pain to his enemy. "Edward, my son, come and sit by me."
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"Mats? You think I cannot make you carry deer meat, yet I could command Mats to do so?" Moraelyn stared up at the blond giant. "Well, one never knows until one tries. Mats, carry the deer."
  
Edward stood where he was, "Madam mother, I have waited many years and travelled many leagues to have an answer. I will wait no longer, nor go one step further."
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The blond scratched his head and jaw thoughtfully. "Highness, nothing would please me more but it is a large deer and my old wound is troubling my back, perhaps if you kill a smaller one."
  
"What have you been told?"
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"Well, Prince, what now?"
  
"That you were most treacherously kidnapped by night with the aid of magic, while my father slept, trusting in the honor of his guest."
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"You beat him."
  
"Your father told you that. And Moraelyn?"
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"At what? I can outrun him. Mats, if I reach that oak first, will you carry the deer." Mats shook his head slowly.
  
"Said that you came full willing. I would hear what you say."
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"You beat him with a stick!" Edward yelled.
  
"Would you hear why I left your father or why I did not take you with me, having chosen to go."
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"What promise you show as a Healer, my Prince. You will forgive me if I refrain from consulting you until you have further training. It is my judgement that beating with a stick will not improve Mats' back. Of course, I may be in error.
  
Edward paused, thinking, "Madam, I would hear the truth, therefore I must give the truth. I would hear why you left me behind. The other, I think I know, as much as I can or would know, unless you wish to tell me more or other."
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"Silk, you carry the deer."
  
"The truth? Truth is not a single thing existing apart from those who apprehend it. But I will tell you my truth and perhaps then you may arrive at your truth.
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"Me, milord? I am sorry, but I have just remembered that I am fourth cousin to the fifth house of Dibella, Queen of Heaven. My dignity forbids that I carry anything at all."
  
Aliera walked back to a softly pillowed chair and composed herself. Nearby a small ruby colored bird settled on a branch and trilled an accompaniment to her soft voice.
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Willow and Beech claimed that a mage had forbidden either of them from carrying any part of an animal while the moon Jone was risen.
  
"My parents arranged my marriage as is the custom of our homeland. I did not love Corcyr, but in the beginning I respected him and tried to be a good wife. He did not care for me, nor did he take care. And so he lost my respect and I died a little each day, withering like an untended plant. I was happy only with you, but Corcyr thought I was making you too soft. "Womanish," he said, and so, after your third birthday I was allowed to spend only an hour each day with you. I listened to your cries and sat weeping, without heart for anything. Finally, you ceased crying and asking for me, and my heart was left empty. I formed the habit of walking and riding much of the time, alone save for a guard or two. Then Moraelyn came. He wanted to mine for ebony in the Wrothgarian Mountains. The land he wanted to use was part of my dowry. He was willing to train our people in the arts of its use and even to give them weapons of Dark Elf making. In return our people were to aid him in keeping the goblins away, and allow him to form a colony of his people in High Rock. Corcyr had no use for the land and he wanted the weapons very much indeed -- there are none better -- so he favored the proposal. There were many details to be discussed and arranged and it fell to me to conduct these negotiations. Corcyr despises Dark Elves and he was jealous of Moraelyn, who was already famed as the finest fighter in all Tamriel.
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"Prince, are you truly certain about this rule? It seems to make life most inconvenient. We could bring the wood to the deer, which will take many hours and leave us benighted here. We could consume the meat raw on the spot, but I own my belly is not yet empty enough to make that option attractive. Aliera, can you help us? How do the High Rock folk get meat to table?"
  
"But Moraelyn is more than a skilled fighter; he's well-read and interested in everything under the sun. He sang and played as if taught by Jeh Free and Jhim Sei both. He was a companion such as I'd only dreamed of...that and no more, I swear. We both love to be outside, so our discussions took place while riding and walking, but always accompanied by his men and Corcyr's. When all was arranged, Corcyr gave a great feast to celebrate the treaty. All of High Rock nobility came and many from other provinces. At the end Corcyr was deep in his cups and let fall an insult that could only be washed out in blood. I had long since retired with the other ladies so I know not what it was, but I'd heard enough in private to know that Corcyr had a store of such to choose from. Moraelyn gave the challenge and gave Corcyr until noon, that he might recover such wits as he had.
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"Milord, when I lived there it was my firm belief that it appeared by magic. There were servants, but they were an irritating, lazy lot, more trouble than they were worth. Edward, my son, is it possible that this rule applies only in High Rock?"
  
"Then Moraelyn came to me, alone in my chamber, and told me what had befallen. 'Milady, I think he will choose your brother as his champion; in any case there will be a river of blood between us that may not be crossed in this life or any other. I can live without your love, but I would not have your enmity. Come with me now, as wife or honored guest, as you choose. And you shall serve as blood price in stead of your kith or kin.'
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"I suppose so..."
  
"And there, in the moonlight, in my terror, with my ladies sleeping about me, I knew I loved him. Doubted that I could live without him. And yet, I loved you more! 'My son,' I whispered. 'I can't'. 'Milady, you must choose. I am sorry.' You see, don't you, Edward? If I stayed, it meant my brother's death his innocent young blood. Or your father's! Or possibly that of the man I loved, though I counted that most unlikely. Moraelyn's fighting skills alone were supreme, and in an affair of this sort he would be entitled to call on magic aid as well. 'We could take him with us.' But Moraelyn shook his head sadly, 'That I will not do. It would go against my honor to part father and son.'"
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Edward carried a share of meat that bent his back, but he did not complain. And so it was settled, and the meal that night was a merry one. But for several days after, if the Companions caught him carrying anything at all they would inquire anxiously as to whether a High Rock Prince might do so.
  
"Leaving love alone, I am trained to duty", Aliera said proudly. "Should I have robbed you of your father or your loving uncle? And I thought it likely that Corcyr, should he survive, would somehow blame me for the affair and use it as an excuse to put me away. I thought that Corcyr would be pleased to have me gone. I knew he wanted the weapons very much. I could trade them for time with you, I thought." All this passed through my mind while Moraelyn stood waiting, not looking at me.
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"If Mats is not a servant, then why do they call him 'Moraelyn's Slave'?" Edward asked one drowsy afternoon.
  
"Lady Mara, help me to choose wisely, I prayed. 'You truly want me as wife? I could bring you nothing but trouble.'"
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"Well, he is my slave. I paid gold for him, all that Mith and I had. We came on a man beating him near Reich Parthkeep. He looked near death; when Mith and I tried to stop the beating, the man said Mats was a runaway slave, and he'd do as he liked with him. So I threw down the gold and told him he could take it and leave, else I would kill him out of hand. He chose the latter, so I told Mats to take the gold as his master's heir and go where he would. He chose to come with us, so we buried the gold with his master and Mats has been with us since."
  
"'Aliera, I would have you to wife. And I want nothing but yourself.' He shed his cloak and wrapped it round my body, pulling the bedclothes away."
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"Could he leave if he wanted to?"
  
"'Moraelyn, wait is this right, what I do?'"
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"Of course."
  
"'Milady, if I thought this wrong, I should not be standing here! Of the choices you are given, this one seems to me most right.' He swung me up in his arms and carried me to his horse. And so I left your father's house, clad only in his cloak and riding before him. And wild joy mixed with my sorrow, so that I scarce knew how I felt. That is my truth."
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"May I go pick some of those berries over there?" Edward asked, and Moraelyn nodded.
  
Edward said quietly, "But he has parted my father and me in the end."
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Aliera was sleeping curled on her side. Moraelyn sat next to her, leaning back against a tree, his hand playing with her long dark curls. His eyes and skin were sensitive to the bright sun. Shade slept stretched in the sun nearby, his dark fur glinting with silver in the light. Edward wandered over to the bushes and picked the bright glowberries, so called because they glowed at night, although right now they were a rather dull gray. But they tasted very good. If he ate enough, would he glow at night, he wondered. Or if he smashed them and collected the juice, the bushes caught at him, then he found a sort of tunnel through them and trotted along it, wondering where it led.
  
"With great reluctance. And only because the dragon says that you and your father were in truth already parted in heart. It is only a matter of more leagues. Which provide a measure of safety for you. Moraelyn insisted that you should freely consent to come. You are as free to return any time you wish."
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It ended in a small clearing before a pile of rocks. There was a hole and something in it. Edward stepped back, making a small noise in his throat. The something heaved and presented a tusky snarling face and hooves that pawed at the earth.
  
"Moraelyn would have just taken me! It was I'r...I mean, the ArchMagister, who insisted that I must consent."
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The boy backed away slowly. The beast's head went down, the shoulders heaved and the immense bulk lumbered into a charge. Edward tried to throw himself into the bushes - there was no room - and then, incredibly, Moraelyn was in front of him, between him and the beast. There was a flash and a crash, and the elf seemed to leap backwards for several feet, landing crouched just in front of Edward's face. The air whistled as his blade seemed to jump out of the sheath of its own accord. There was a sparkle in the air around him, and a burnt smell. Silence.
  
"He's not a patient man by nature. And he is anxious to do Corcyr no harm. Doubtless he felt the discussion could be carried on as well elsewhere."
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"Get out of here, boy! Now!"
  
"He called him King of the Small Cock. And laughed. Why? Are Daggerfall cockerels smaller than Ebonheart birds? And what does it matter, anyway? My father was very angry; I think he would have liked to fight. But it's true he hates me. I knew that, but I didn't want to know, so I pretended not to. I don't suppose Moraelyn would do that."
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Edward fled, yelling for his mother, who was running toward the bushes and calling him. She clasped him to her, and began shouting for Moraelyn instead. There was no answer, then, somehow the elf was there, unharmed, his blade sheathed again. But he was breathing hard.
  
"No."
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"Did you kill it? Are you hurt?"
  
"He'd lie, though. He thought about telling me he was my father. I could see it."
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"No and no. I was shielded. Barely. You disturbed a sow in her den with her litter. Fortunately, she thought she'd had enough after the first impact. I daresay she's unaccustomed to finding her enemies still standing afterwards."
  
Aliera threw back her head and laughed her pretty rippling laugh; he remembered it from long ago, and it sent shivers down his back. "He must have wanted to claim it very badly indeed if he let you see it; he's usually quicker than that. And he does not lie under oath, or to hurt those he loves."
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"Why didn't you kill her?" Edward demanded, feeling bloodthirsty after his fright.
  
"He doesn't love me; he doesn't even like me."
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"A katana, even the Ebony Blade, is not the weapon I'd choose against a mother sow. A spear, maybe. The longer the better. Besides, if we leave her be, there'll be six pigs here next year, with luck."
  
"But I do, my dear son. You..." Edward thought she was going to say he'd grown; adults always remarked on his growth, even if he'd just seen them a week ago. Very strange, since he was small for his age. Instead she said, "You're just as I thought you'd be," with deep maternal satisfaction.
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"You made a magic shield," Edward said, wide-eyed.
  
"And he loves you. But he said he was no one's errand boy. Yet you dismissed him as if he were."
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"Aye, barring the shield, she'd have left a few marks even on a tough old dark elf."
  
Aliera's face and neck burned a deep crimson.
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"Edward, it would be gracious to thank your rescuer." His mother prompted.
  
"Nay, though I am reduced to serving man, it seems." Moraelyn had entered silently, bearing a huge tray piled high with food. "Get me a stool, boy, you can play page if I can play server. You must be famished and I thought I'd best return before my wife gets round to the rest of my faults. Could take her most of the day listing them." He'd shed the mail and bathed and dressed in fresh black jerkin and hose with a silvery sash tied round his narrow waist. But the black sword still swung by his side.
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"Thank you," Edward said automatically, his mind busy with more questions. How had the elf known of his danger? How did he get there so quickly?
  
"Mara help us, you've enough food for a small army. And I've broken my fast." Aliera's small hand reached for the elf's arm, slid down it caressingly, then clasped his hand and squeezed it, lifting it to her still hot cheek, brushing it with her lips. Edward looked away quickly, discomforted by the sight of his dusky skin against her fairness.
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"There is scarcely need to thank me for saving my son's life. Thank Shade," Moraelyn said. "The cat told me there was trouble."
  
"This's for me, and a bit for the boy. But pray join us, my dear. You've grown thin. Pining for me, no doubt." He wrapped a lock of her dark curly hair around a finger and tugged at it, grinning, then fell on the food like a starving wolf, attacking it with small silvery weapons instead of eating with his fingers as humans did. The food was wonderful. Edward ate until he could eat no more.
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Edward knelt and hugged the smug purring cat. "Good old Shade. I can always count on him."
  
"Eavesdropping," he murmured thoughtfully. He'd been mulling over a list of Moraelyn's faults while he ate, and realized too late that he'd spoken aloud.
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"My son". "Our son". The words rang proudly out at the least excuse. Edward puzzled over this for awhile; it wanted an explanation. The one he favored was that Moraelyn simply didn't know him very well yet, and was prone to give the benefit of the doubt to strangers. Eventually, but in the meantime he might as well enjoy it. It was nice. Having a father that was proud of you, that liked being with you, took you places, talked to you, listened to you. And most remarkably of all, let you alone when you needed to be. Moraelyn only really liked being alone when he was composing a ballad.
  
"By Zenithar, boy, if you humans will shout your privy conversation all over the tree, d'ye
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Edward told Beech and Willow about the mother pig. "I ran when he told me to. Would you? Because he said to. I couldn't think of any way to help, but..." Willow and Beech listened carefully, exchanged glances, and said they'd think about the problem.
  
expect me to shut my ears with wool?" He tapped one of his large pointed ears. Edward hurriedly tried to remember what they'd said. What he'd said. Lying. Oh dear. Maybe he hadn't heard.
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After supper around the evening fire, Willow took up her small harp and began to sing about the joys of an autumn afternoon and berries...except that Moraelyn sent the boy off to pick berries. They'd got that part wrong. Moraelyn sat up sharply and looked around, but the others had slipped away into the darkness and Willow wasn't looking at him.
  
"So I'm a liar, am I, boy?" Vir Gil help him, Edward felt he was drowning. Could the Elf read minds? He hoped that wasn't the insult his father had used! "I...I meant I thought that you were thinking about it. You did hesitate," Edward gulped. He was making matters worse.
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Mith strolled into the firelight, taking mincing steps, picking pantomime berries and eating them noisily. Moraelyn put his head down and groaned. Mith pantomimed finding something then skipped along in delight. Mats' head and shoulders lurched into the firelight. Mith reached a hand to pat him, then leapt back with a squeal as Mats tried to rip him with a tusk. Huge tusks and a pig nose adorned his face. Mith crouched, hands to his face in exaggerated horror. And Silk, clad in black, leaped between Mith and Mats with a shower of sparks, jerkin backwards, hose about its knees, shoeless. It reached for its sword, but Mats charged and knocked it flying; it spun out of sight. Mats, scrambling on all fours, missed Mith, but tore his hose. Mith scampered around the fire with Mats after him. Silk, sword in one hand, the other tugging at the hose chased after Mats, beating him with the sword.
  
"Possibly, I was trying to remember." the sardonic tone was back.
+
Another figure appeared, clad in Aliera's blue gown with Beech's head sticking out above wearing a long dark wig. Mith cowered behind her skirts. She glared at Mats and he froze. Silk tripped and sprawled behind him. Beech tossed his hair back, patted Mith reassuringly on the head, wet one finger and smoothed an eyebrow, then leisurely picked up his bow, aimed and twanged.
  
"You don't even like me!" Edward burst out.
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Mats leaped backwards, collapsing on top of Silk with a very realistic death rattle. Beech and Mith embraced, ignoring Silk, still flat beneath Mats.
  
"That doesn't seem to have stopped your true father from claiming you."
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Moraelyn had begun laughing when Silk first leaped out. Aliera had waited for Beech's appearance. Now tears were running down her cheeks. Moraelyn was doubled over, pounding his fist against a tree. Ripples and giggles of silvery laughter sounded all around and showers of gold coins fell into the circle. The Companions gathered themselves together and bowed, as humans did.
  
"Moraelyn! Don't!" Aliera interrupted, but the Elf held up his hand to quiet her.
+
"Again, do it again!"
  
"I'm not so sure." Edward flashed.
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"Nooooo!" Moraelyn gasped, still laughing. "Ah, you came nearer killing me than the sow did! I beg mercy!"
  
"Why do you say that?"
+
"Another night, gentle persons...our king has had a very long day. We thank you all."
  
"I don't know...Roane says...things...and I'm not at all like him. Everyone remarks on it. And then stops talking."
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"Gods, had the entire town seen?" Edward stared behind him, but they were all melting away into the dark. "That's not what happened." he yelled. "You were a hero. They made fun of you."
  
"What things? Speak, boy!"
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"Yes, yes and yes. Especially the last. By Jephre himself, that was funny!"
  
"About how fond Mother was of her brother when they were young. How sad and angry he was when she was carried off. More like a lover, she said, than a brother. She says it very sweetly, but like she means something by it. Something too dirty to say. Other times she talks about how elfin I look. And how quickly after marriage I came. Not as quickly as her first son, though."
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"They all saw that! And you're going to let them do it again?" Edward was scandalized. They had all looked ridiculous.
  
Moraelyn leaped up. "By the Avenger, I will go back and wring the vixen's neck! The human", he bit off the insult, but his red eyes flamed rage; his muscles swelled and his hair stood on end. "You do not look half-elven. I never met your mother until four years after your conception. Roane, it seems, cannot decide which lie she wishes to use. But incest! May Kel strike her down if I may not." The tall elf paced furiously about the room, lithe as a Khajiit, hand fondling his sword hilt. The platform swayed and dipped.
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"Let them? It'll be done all over Tamriel for centuries to come, I doubt not. But never again so well."
  
"She's ambitious for her sons, at Edward's expense. The question is, how many will believe her. Not enough if she was planning to have him killed instead." Aliera's smooth brow wrinkled a bit.
+
"But it didn't happen like that at all."
  
"I never disliked her, you know. Nor she me. She wanted my place and I was glad enough to let her have it save for Edward."
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"It would have if Mats...I mean the sow had charged again. Ariana's bow would have been far more effective than my poor blade. And she'd have seen Moraelyn leap like a khajiit!" His finger smoothed an eyebrow in a gesture typical of Aliera and he went off again into a long laugh. "Aye, she'd have slain the beast with a look, if she couldn't find an arrow. Mats, you were more like the sow than she like herself. Bigger, too, I swear! Mith, you old rogue, only you could look so innocent."
  
"You want me to be king so I'll let you have the ebon mines." Edward had just worked out the puzzle.
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"Buuut, it's not true!" Edward protested.
  
"Oh, devil take the ebon, which he probably will. I've a better chance of getting co-operation from Roane's boys once your father's dead. They'd have reason for gratitude and the bargain's a good one. Although the chances they could keep a civil tongue long enough to sign a contract seem poor, given their parentage."
+
"Boy, you think there's only one truth? Was what you saw today truth? Did you see all the truth? Even of what did happen? What you saw here tonight will light up truths unseen, if you allow it, you could spend a lifetime reflecting on it and yet not see it whole, for it goes ever further and deeper, spreading like ripples in a pool, beyond us all and out into the deep stillness of forever. What happens is only a tiny part of truth...maybe the least part. And what you see is smaller yet."
  
"Then why? You don't even like me."
+
Edward still thought that a king really ought to have more dignity. But he didn't say so.
 
 
"Mara, help me! 'Liking' a person is a human concept. One day they like you, the next day they don't. On Tirdas they're back to liking you again. My own wife does this to me, but claims to love me even when she doesn't like me. Except of course on the days when she doesn't do either, and talks about joining the Order of Riana. Fortunately that only happens once a year or so. I go hunting until she comes to her senses."
 
 
 
"You exaggerate; that only happened once, and well you know it."
 
 
 
"I remember enjoying the recovery period. Maybe it should happen more often." They grinned at each other.
 
 
 
"But why do you want me to be King?" Edward persisted.
 
 
 
"I told you; it's Akatosh's notion. And the ArchMagister's. I just came along for the ride. Ask them."
 
 
 
"I shall ask the ArchMagister when I see him."
 
 
 
"An excellent plan. You'll spend a few weeks at the Tower before heading north with us."
 
 
 
"Only that?"
 
 
 
"Does the prospect of spending the winter with your mother and me displease you so much?"
 
 
 
"No...no, sir. But I agreed to go with I'ric." Not you. The words hung unsaid between them.
 
 
 
"You will, in time. A few weeks there now will fit you to begin your training in magic; I can teach you spells. But you need hardening; your body must catch up to your mind. It is the ArchMagister's will."
 
 
 
"Fighting magic? I want to learn other things. How to call beasts. How to heal. And float..."
 
 
 
"You'll learn that, I doubt not. And d'ye think a fighter can't Heal? It's the first spell you'll learn. But a King must know how to fight."
 
 
 
"I'm not good at it."
 
 
 
"Dragon's Teeth, boy! Exactly why you must learn!"
 
 
 
"If I cannot?"
 
 
 
"You've courage and a clear head and the potential to learn magic; that's more than most people ever have. I can teach you the rest."
 
 
 
Edward's head whirled with the unaccustomed praise. "I do? I have? You can?"
 
 
 
"D'ye think any of your father's fool court would stand naked before a dragon, a unicorn, the ArchMagister, and the Champion of Tamriel and demand justice of them? Justice! Faced with such, they might have managed to beg for mercy, if they could speak at all, which is doubtful."
 
 
 
"I did that? I did, didn't I?" Edward was astonished; he wanted to add that he hadn't known, hadn't thought about it.
 
 
 
"Aye, you did. And it's a deed that shall be sung from here to Morrowwind; I'll compose the ballad myself--as soon as I have a nap. I don't sleep as sound as some on dragon's backs."
 
 
 
"You enchanted me and Shag asleep!"
 
 
 
"And the rest of the castle, with the help of my friends."
 
 
 
"Ooooohhhh. Can you levitate? Will you show me?"
 
 
 
"Not so fast. I kept a holding spell on us all night to keep us on the dragon's back. Until I'm rested I couldn't light a candle with the aid of a match."
 
 
 
"Oh. Well, I'd still rather be like the ArchMagister than be a fighter."
 
 
 
"Hah! It'll be news to the ArchMagister that he cannot fight! I hope he'll find time to show you how to wield a staff. No better weapon for early training. And no better trainer. Now, of the four you saw before you, which would you say could best the others?"
 
 
 
Edward thought carefully for several minutes. "Sir, my judgement is poor indeed, but if you would still have my answer, it would seem that the one who claims the title Champion of Tamriel must be the best. Yet must not the ArchMagister be your master in magic? And trained to arms as well, it seems. So which should prevail? Could any mortal stand against the dragon's fire and claws and teeth? And I know naught of the unicorn, save that it is fleet and has a very sharp horn, and hooves as well. So I will guess the unicorn; it had the mildest manner. And since you asked the question it seems the unlikely answer may be correct."
 
 
 
"Well answered, youngling! The unicorn would win easily in any single close combat. No mortal or even dragon can move quickly enough to land a blow and it cannot be burned or touched by any magic or elemental power. It's hooves are deadly and a single touch of its horn will kill any enemy, although the horn itself will burn away. The most powerful can regenerate it within moments, however."
 
 
 
"And of the four the Champion of Tamriel would probably be the loser against any of the others, although the title is no idle boast!" Moraelyn is not accustomed to being so outclassed. "My manners may have suffered in consequence."
 
 
 
"Milord King, I am most deeply in your debt. You have done me great honor and service. If ever
 
 
 
I can repay you, I will. Forgive my brash words and ill manners. I have dwelt among the rude and boorish. And it seems I have no father, unless I may call you so?" The elf held his hands out to the boy, who placed his own in them. Edward's feeling of distaste was quite gone as if by magic the thought drifted through his mind and then he released his hands and clasped Moraelyn about his waist. The elf's hands stroked the dark hair and clasped the thin shoulders.
 
 
 
"I thank you, my wife. After only five years of marriage, you have presented me with a fine son, nine years of age. Remarkable. In fact...magical."
 
  
 
[[fr:Le Roi Edward, 3e Partie]]
 
[[fr:Le Roi Edward, 3e Partie]]
  
 
{{LivreSerieBarre | precedent=King Edward, Part 2{{!}}Part 2|titre=King Edward | suivant=King Edward, Part 4{{!}}Part 4 }}
 
{{LivreSerieBarre | precedent=King Edward, Part 2{{!}}Part 2|titre=King Edward | suivant=King Edward, Part 4{{!}}Part 4 }}

Version actuelle datée du 29 mai 2014 à 13:44

Original media : TES 2 : Daggerfall

Lessons
By Anonymous


The golden days passed swiftly. Edward spent most of his time in the company of his parents. He saw few other children. None at all lived in 'their' tree, only their wood elf host and Moraelyn's six Companions, an oddly assorted, cheerful lot. Disrespectful, Edward thought. None of the Daggerfall court or servants would dared have addressed his father as these did Moraelyn and Aliera with their constant raillery. But these weren't servants or courtiers. Just Companions. Only one was a Dark Elf. There were a Khajiit woman, two wood elves, brother and sister, a Nordic man, even bigger than Moraelyn and a strange looking lizardlike man, who spoke with such a hissing accent that Edward couldn't understand him at all. The Nord man was called "Slave of Moraelyn" or just "Slave" for short, although Moraelyn usually called him "Mats" of "My-slave." Mats tended the group's weapons and gathered wood for the evening fires. But it wasn't unusual for the others to bring wood; Moraelyn himself often borrowed Mats' axe and fetched and split wood if there was need, or if he just felt like it.

They spent much of their time roaming the woods and fields, hunting and gathering produce, in twos and threes. Usually Moraelyn, Aliera and Edward and Shade went off together. They carried bows for hunting. When Edward asked Moraelyn to teach him to shoot better, he was told to ask his mother, as she was the better shot. And it was Aliera's arrow that brought down a handsome buck, although both arrows had struck, and they quarrelled over who's arrow had killed as they ran toward the buck.

"Bah!" Moraelyn exclaimed as he pulled his black fletched arrow from the hindquarters. "I don't know how I managed to feed myself before I married you."

"You had the Companions."

"Aye. Mats, Mith and I starved together, before we met Beech and Willow." Moraelyn pulled out his black dagger, Tooth, and began to skin the animal's body, calling Edward to come and watch. "You want to learn about animals, don't you?"

"Live ones." Edward said with distaste. His dainty mother was ripping the skin away with enthusiasm.

"Such make tough eating," the dark elf said. "Give me your cloak; I'll make a package for you to carry."

"I am a Prince, not a pack horse!"

"You'll carry your share or you'll be a hungry prince this night." The elf had lost his good humor.

"I won't. I don't want any. You can't make me."

Moraelyn stood erect and appeared to think this over. "Can't I?" he taunted.

"Edward, please..." Aliera appealed to him.

"Tell me, Lord Prince, how then does one get the meat to one's table if one may not carry it. If Princes may not carry meat then certainly Kings and Queens may not, or do Princes grow out of the incapacity when they become Kings?"

"They have servants!"

"Serve ants? What a clever idea. Only a human could think of that! Ants are excellent at carrying, I have noted, although I have not the trick of commanding them. Perhaps you can teach me."

"Servants! Like Mats here," Edward shouted. He hated being teased. Mats and the other companions had come up, having heard their shouts over the kill.

"Mats? You think I cannot make you carry deer meat, yet I could command Mats to do so?" Moraelyn stared up at the blond giant. "Well, one never knows until one tries. Mats, carry the deer."

The blond scratched his head and jaw thoughtfully. "Highness, nothing would please me more but it is a large deer and my old wound is troubling my back, perhaps if you kill a smaller one."

"Well, Prince, what now?"

"You beat him."

"At what? I can outrun him. Mats, if I reach that oak first, will you carry the deer." Mats shook his head slowly.

"You beat him with a stick!" Edward yelled.

"What promise you show as a Healer, my Prince. You will forgive me if I refrain from consulting you until you have further training. It is my judgement that beating with a stick will not improve Mats' back. Of course, I may be in error.

"Silk, you carry the deer."

"Me, milord? I am sorry, but I have just remembered that I am fourth cousin to the fifth house of Dibella, Queen of Heaven. My dignity forbids that I carry anything at all."

Willow and Beech claimed that a mage had forbidden either of them from carrying any part of an animal while the moon Jone was risen.

"Prince, are you truly certain about this rule? It seems to make life most inconvenient. We could bring the wood to the deer, which will take many hours and leave us benighted here. We could consume the meat raw on the spot, but I own my belly is not yet empty enough to make that option attractive. Aliera, can you help us? How do the High Rock folk get meat to table?"

"Milord, when I lived there it was my firm belief that it appeared by magic. There were servants, but they were an irritating, lazy lot, more trouble than they were worth. Edward, my son, is it possible that this rule applies only in High Rock?"

"I suppose so..."

Edward carried a share of meat that bent his back, but he did not complain. And so it was settled, and the meal that night was a merry one. But for several days after, if the Companions caught him carrying anything at all they would inquire anxiously as to whether a High Rock Prince might do so.

"If Mats is not a servant, then why do they call him 'Moraelyn's Slave'?" Edward asked one drowsy afternoon.

"Well, he is my slave. I paid gold for him, all that Mith and I had. We came on a man beating him near Reich Parthkeep. He looked near death; when Mith and I tried to stop the beating, the man said Mats was a runaway slave, and he'd do as he liked with him. So I threw down the gold and told him he could take it and leave, else I would kill him out of hand. He chose the latter, so I told Mats to take the gold as his master's heir and go where he would. He chose to come with us, so we buried the gold with his master and Mats has been with us since."

"Could he leave if he wanted to?"

"Of course."

"May I go pick some of those berries over there?" Edward asked, and Moraelyn nodded.

Aliera was sleeping curled on her side. Moraelyn sat next to her, leaning back against a tree, his hand playing with her long dark curls. His eyes and skin were sensitive to the bright sun. Shade slept stretched in the sun nearby, his dark fur glinting with silver in the light. Edward wandered over to the bushes and picked the bright glowberries, so called because they glowed at night, although right now they were a rather dull gray. But they tasted very good. If he ate enough, would he glow at night, he wondered. Or if he smashed them and collected the juice, the bushes caught at him, then he found a sort of tunnel through them and trotted along it, wondering where it led.

It ended in a small clearing before a pile of rocks. There was a hole and something in it. Edward stepped back, making a small noise in his throat. The something heaved and presented a tusky snarling face and hooves that pawed at the earth.

The boy backed away slowly. The beast's head went down, the shoulders heaved and the immense bulk lumbered into a charge. Edward tried to throw himself into the bushes - there was no room - and then, incredibly, Moraelyn was in front of him, between him and the beast. There was a flash and a crash, and the elf seemed to leap backwards for several feet, landing crouched just in front of Edward's face. The air whistled as his blade seemed to jump out of the sheath of its own accord. There was a sparkle in the air around him, and a burnt smell. Silence.

"Get out of here, boy! Now!"

Edward fled, yelling for his mother, who was running toward the bushes and calling him. She clasped him to her, and began shouting for Moraelyn instead. There was no answer, then, somehow the elf was there, unharmed, his blade sheathed again. But he was breathing hard.

"Did you kill it? Are you hurt?"

"No and no. I was shielded. Barely. You disturbed a sow in her den with her litter. Fortunately, she thought she'd had enough after the first impact. I daresay she's unaccustomed to finding her enemies still standing afterwards."

"Why didn't you kill her?" Edward demanded, feeling bloodthirsty after his fright.

"A katana, even the Ebony Blade, is not the weapon I'd choose against a mother sow. A spear, maybe. The longer the better. Besides, if we leave her be, there'll be six pigs here next year, with luck."

"You made a magic shield," Edward said, wide-eyed.

"Aye, barring the shield, she'd have left a few marks even on a tough old dark elf."

"Edward, it would be gracious to thank your rescuer." His mother prompted.

"Thank you," Edward said automatically, his mind busy with more questions. How had the elf known of his danger? How did he get there so quickly?

"There is scarcely need to thank me for saving my son's life. Thank Shade," Moraelyn said. "The cat told me there was trouble."

Edward knelt and hugged the smug purring cat. "Good old Shade. I can always count on him."

"My son". "Our son". The words rang proudly out at the least excuse. Edward puzzled over this for awhile; it wanted an explanation. The one he favored was that Moraelyn simply didn't know him very well yet, and was prone to give the benefit of the doubt to strangers. Eventually, but in the meantime he might as well enjoy it. It was nice. Having a father that was proud of you, that liked being with you, took you places, talked to you, listened to you. And most remarkably of all, let you alone when you needed to be. Moraelyn only really liked being alone when he was composing a ballad.

Edward told Beech and Willow about the mother pig. "I ran when he told me to. Would you? Because he said to. I couldn't think of any way to help, but..." Willow and Beech listened carefully, exchanged glances, and said they'd think about the problem.

After supper around the evening fire, Willow took up her small harp and began to sing about the joys of an autumn afternoon and berries...except that Moraelyn sent the boy off to pick berries. They'd got that part wrong. Moraelyn sat up sharply and looked around, but the others had slipped away into the darkness and Willow wasn't looking at him.

Mith strolled into the firelight, taking mincing steps, picking pantomime berries and eating them noisily. Moraelyn put his head down and groaned. Mith pantomimed finding something then skipped along in delight. Mats' head and shoulders lurched into the firelight. Mith reached a hand to pat him, then leapt back with a squeal as Mats tried to rip him with a tusk. Huge tusks and a pig nose adorned his face. Mith crouched, hands to his face in exaggerated horror. And Silk, clad in black, leaped between Mith and Mats with a shower of sparks, jerkin backwards, hose about its knees, shoeless. It reached for its sword, but Mats charged and knocked it flying; it spun out of sight. Mats, scrambling on all fours, missed Mith, but tore his hose. Mith scampered around the fire with Mats after him. Silk, sword in one hand, the other tugging at the hose chased after Mats, beating him with the sword.

Another figure appeared, clad in Aliera's blue gown with Beech's head sticking out above wearing a long dark wig. Mith cowered behind her skirts. She glared at Mats and he froze. Silk tripped and sprawled behind him. Beech tossed his hair back, patted Mith reassuringly on the head, wet one finger and smoothed an eyebrow, then leisurely picked up his bow, aimed and twanged.

Mats leaped backwards, collapsing on top of Silk with a very realistic death rattle. Beech and Mith embraced, ignoring Silk, still flat beneath Mats.

Moraelyn had begun laughing when Silk first leaped out. Aliera had waited for Beech's appearance. Now tears were running down her cheeks. Moraelyn was doubled over, pounding his fist against a tree. Ripples and giggles of silvery laughter sounded all around and showers of gold coins fell into the circle. The Companions gathered themselves together and bowed, as humans did.

"Again, do it again!"

"Nooooo!" Moraelyn gasped, still laughing. "Ah, you came nearer killing me than the sow did! I beg mercy!"

"Another night, gentle persons...our king has had a very long day. We thank you all."

"Gods, had the entire town seen?" Edward stared behind him, but they were all melting away into the dark. "That's not what happened." he yelled. "You were a hero. They made fun of you."

"Yes, yes and yes. Especially the last. By Jephre himself, that was funny!"

"They all saw that! And you're going to let them do it again?" Edward was scandalized. They had all looked ridiculous.

"Let them? It'll be done all over Tamriel for centuries to come, I doubt not. But never again so well."

"But it didn't happen like that at all."

"It would have if Mats...I mean the sow had charged again. Ariana's bow would have been far more effective than my poor blade. And she'd have seen Moraelyn leap like a khajiit!" His finger smoothed an eyebrow in a gesture typical of Aliera and he went off again into a long laugh. "Aye, she'd have slain the beast with a look, if she couldn't find an arrow. Mats, you were more like the sow than she like herself. Bigger, too, I swear! Mith, you old rogue, only you could look so innocent."

"Buuut, it's not true!" Edward protested.

"Boy, you think there's only one truth? Was what you saw today truth? Did you see all the truth? Even of what did happen? What you saw here tonight will light up truths unseen, if you allow it, you could spend a lifetime reflecting on it and yet not see it whole, for it goes ever further and deeper, spreading like ripples in a pool, beyond us all and out into the deep stillness of forever. What happens is only a tiny part of truth...maybe the least part. And what you see is smaller yet."

Edward still thought that a king really ought to have more dignity. But he didn't say so.