Chapter 10: A Seed is Planted
****
As an evening breeze blew gently across the field, Clarkent walked for a while, utterly lost in thought. His head was full almost to bursting, and he just wanted to give a primal scream and let everything out.
Finally, he stood in one place beneath a tree and looked up at the moon and the stars with a furrowed brow. A cloud was passing slowly over them, dimming their brightness. But his mind was not on the sky. He simply stared upward at it unseeingly.
He felt so much at that moment, but it was a bundle of feelings that were hard to fully pin down. He felt angry, confused, sad, hurt . . . . Why were his foster parents doomed to such a miserable life of poverty? Why were some people born with everything--and others with nothing? It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right.
His mind turned back once again to his recent revelation. They weren’t his real parents! How could he have never realized that? And why had they waited so long to tell him?
And what about his real parents? Why had they given him away? Had they simply not wanted him? Had he been born out of wedlock? Was he born out of the shame of others?
He had so many important questions, and his parents hadn’t wanted to answer any of them. One look at their faces, and he had known he would be getting nothing more out of them. He was stuck in a quagmire of confusion which no one could help remove him from. And it made him feel so very alone.
He fell to his knees on the ground and sat back on his legs. Tucking his chin into his chest, he fought to withhold a sob. He felt so helpless . . . and in a world where he never had much choice, that was devastating.
The whisper of grass on fabric reached his ears, and he looked up in surprise to see a black form coming forward in the darkness. The dark cloud above finished passing over the moon, and he was able to see by the white orb’s light that it was Peri moving toward him.
“Hello,” Clarkent greeted in a depressed tone, not bothering to stand. He wasn’t sure he could conjure up the energy to do so. He felt too drained for that.
“It is a pretty night,” the older man commented as he slowed to a stop and leaned his head back to look at the night sky. He held his staff in his right hand, leaning on it slightly, and there was a slight wistfulness in his look.
“Yes,” Clarkent agreed distractedly. In truth, he could care less about the sky’s beauty or lack thereof at that moment. He was too busy looking inward to be able to start looking outward.
“A lot of secrets are formed during the night,” Peri noted in a voice filled with mystery, “and a lot of secrets are revealed. There is something about the night which revels in secrecy.”
Clarkent stared down at the grass, plucking out a few blades. “I guess so.”
Peri came and sat on the ground across from him, drawing his attention toward him. “What is wrong, young Clarkent?”
Clarkent flushed. He hadn’t realized he was so transparent, and it was embarrassing that the older man had to sit on the ground in order to attract Clarkent’s notice. His chest tightening, Clarkent muttered, still picking at the grass, “Nothing is wrong.”
Peri tilted his head to the side, those wizened eyes of his searching Clarkent’s and making him extremely uncomfortable. Finally, the older man said, “You know, son, I once knew the king of Metropolita’s sister kingdom.”
Clarkent looked up sharply in surprise. Peri had to be talking about the Barbarian Kingdom. “You did?” Clarkent asked hesitantly. He was mystified that Peri had actually *known* someone from that place. In some ways, it seemed like the Barbarian Kingdom was simply a bundle of made-up tales. But in reality, things like what he and Gawain had acted out . . . well, they had really happened.
“Well,” Peri amended, “I’m talking about the *rightful* king--not that despot who overthrew him and who everyone began calling the ‘Barbarian King.’” He shook his head, looking disgusted. “Now, one day, the King--the *rightful* one--was looking a little down, and I asked him what was troubling him. But he just refused to talk about it, so I didn’t pry further. The weeks went by, and the King just got surlier and surlier. And then, finally, he blew up and yelled at the woman he loved.”
“Why did he do that?” Clarkent asked with a frown. It didn’t seem like the smartest thing to do.
Peri smiled. “You see--she didn’t know that he loved her. He had been burying all of his feelings deep down inside. And as a result, he almost lost her that day for good. Now, had he been honest and let his feelings out instead of keeping them inside, he wouldn’t have jeopardized the very relationship that was causing him so much turmoil.” He gave a short bob of his head for emphasis. “It’s bad to bottle things up, son. You have to let them out, or they’re just as liable to hurt you as help you.”
Clarkent swallowed, mulling over the older man’s wisdom. Maybe it really was bad to bottle things up--it could be nice to talk about things sometimes . . . .
He glanced over at Peri, who was staring at him, reading his face like a book. After Clarkent looked away in embarrassment, Peri commented, “You must have seen your parents today.”
Clarkent nodded, feeling a little resistant to this line of questioning. He said curtly, “Yes, I did.”
“How did that go?”
Clarkent hesitated. He wasn’t sure why, but he really liked this mysterious man. He even trusted him wholeheartedly. There was just something about Peri that screamed sincerity to him. And would it hurt to talk to him a little bit . . . as long as he didn’t give all the details?
Deciding to go for it, Clarkent told him quietly, “I learned something my parents have been keeping from me for a long time. And it . . . well, it hurts. And they’re not telling me everything.” In frustration, he flung the blades of grass into the air and watched as they fell to the ground.
“And why do you think they might have hidden that from you?” Peri asked, his voice gentle.
Clarkent thought about it. Finally, he ventured, “Maybe they were scared of how I would react.” And maybe it had been hard figuring out the right time to tell him--after all, after he had been Assigned, he had only seen them once a year . . . and that day was so feeling and so precious that he could understand them not wanting to taint the day.
Peri nodded. “Could be. And maybe they were protecting you as well. And, you know, it could be that--by not telling you everything--they were trying to protect someone else. Or maybe it wasn’t their secret to tell.”
Clarkent frowned. “What would they be protecting us from?” Were they scared the person who had forged his name in the Birth Registry would find out?
“Does it really matter?” Peri asked him, pulling his staff across his lap. “Isn’t the important thing that they care enough to want to protect you?”
Clarkent stared down at his hands, considering what Peri had said. The fact that they had waited so long let him know that they believed telling him was important. And the fact that they had told him at all showed they had deemed him worthy of being entrusted with the secret. They had said he couldn’t tell anyone--so obviously it wouldn’t have been good for them to tell him when he was just a little kid. And how would he have ever mustered up the courage to tell someone something this big, only to also have to say that it had to be kept a secret from everybody else? Telling secrets wasn’t as easy as it seemed.
“You’re right,” he admitted. “What matters is that they care.”
It didn’t matter who his real parents were--not in the way that counted. He was truly lucky to have had the two parents he was given to. He could have ended up in the hands of a different set of foster parents--and if he had, he probably wouldn’t be the person he was today. No matter what happened to him while he was working in the Riding Stable, he could always take comfort in the fact that there were two people out there who loved him unconditionally.
Clarkent gave a crooked smile. “Even though they’re poor, my parents are happy with each other . . . and with me.” But then he sighed, his heart heavy once again. “The only change they would want in their lives would be to have me with them all the time--to be able to see me more than once a year . . . . ” It was a change he wanted, too. He wanted to be able to help them out--he wanted to take some of the burden from them. It would be so easy to talk away from work at the castle and never return. But they wouldn’t want that. They wanted him to see this through.
Peri gave him a sad smile. “Such is the wish of many parents in this day and time. But unfortunately, change is slow.” He rose to his feet, using his staff to help him up. “Still--never lose hope, Clarkent. What the people need right now is a beacon which will shine hope upon them and spread it throughout the kingdom. Maybe then, change will finally happen.”
Clarkent stood up himself, thinking about what the older man had said. There must have been countless other people who felt the way he did. Surely the Nobles were the only ones who supported the Assigning--what parent would wish for their children to be taken away just as soon as they were getting old enough to work and help with daily chores? And what child would wish to be wrenched from home and placed in unfamiliar surroundings, to work for unfamiliar people with no pay and no nearby family?
Maybe one day he could bring hope to the people himself. He wasn’t sure how--and he wasn’t sure when--but maybe in time all of that would come to him. For now, he was just a boy with big dreams. But maybe one day soon . . . he would be a man with big plans.
A fluttering noise caught Clarkent’s attention, and he looked upward to see a great Peregrine Falcon flying down from the sky. James landed on Peri’s outstretched arm, gently latching on with his talons. The bird looked at Clarkent intently for a few seconds, and Clarkent couldn’t help but think there was something very human-looking about that gaze.
“Good evening, James,” Peri greeted. “The moon is shining brightly tonight, isn’t she?”
The bird made the small “rep rep” noise Clarkent had come to associate with him, and Peri nodded, as if acknowledging what the falcon had said.
“I’m afraid I must be heading off,” the older man said with a smile. “But it was nice talking with you, Clarkent. I hope you think about what I said. Remember to keep your chin up. And I wouldn’t worry too much about whatever your parents told you. I’m sure you will learn the rest of the story one day. These things have a way of coming out eventually.” He lifted his arm into the air, and James flew upward, circling above his head. As Peri walked away, the bird continued using circles to keep close to him.
Clarkent watched them leave. With those two, there was a bond between bird and man which seemed to go beyond that of falcon and falconer, but Peri was a special and mysterious person, and his relationship with James was simply one natural part of his mystery. Maybe Clarkent would learn more about the bird at some point, but if he didn’t, then it really didn’t matter. He enjoyed talking to Peri. Peri might have had his quirks, but he was a kind old man. The fact that he hadn’t pried to learn the exact nature of Clarkent’s secret spoke volumes for his integrity.
As he began to walk to the stable to make one last check on the horses--knowing Dwayne probably had taken care of everything, but wanting to be certain--he felt the burden of worry settle once more on his shoulders.
Next year, if his parents looked more tired than they did now, he would leave his post. No matter the shame that came upon him, no matter the punishment the crown decided to bring on his head . . . he would find a way to help his parents. And maybe, somehow, he would find a way to help the common people. Maybe he could figure out how to give them hope.
