Swan Knight's Son Page 2

  He sat down on the tiny wooden landing before the door. There was a happy barking, and a dog that was half Border Collie and half who-knew-what came bounding up the stairs. He had a white muzzle and chest, black ears, black flanks, white stockings, and bright eyes with a black mask around them. However, he lacked any collar, dog tags, or fixed place of residence. He was Gil’s dog in every way but legally. Gil did not know where he went during the day or where he slept, and he thought it too nosy to ask.

  Gil rubbed the dog affectionately under the chin and behind both ears. “How you doing, Ruff? How is my boy? You are a good dog!”

  The dog jumped and slobbered and barked happily. He licked Gil’s face but then drew back, his eyes liquid and dark. The dog said sadly, “Eh! Eh! You were wounded in battle.”

  Gil scowled. “You know that by tasting my face?”

  “Yup! Yup! And there is also the fact that there are a big bandage around your head, skinned knuckles on your forepaws, and contusions all over your hide. You were expelled this time, weren’t you? Not just suspended?”

  “How did you know?”

  Ruff cocked his head to one side and made a chuffing noise through his nose, half snort and half sneeze. “Ha! I can smell defeat. And there is also the fact that you are here too soon in the day. You want I should lick your wounds?”

  “I’d get dog germs.”

  “Ha! Ha! That’s a myth. Dog spit is the best thing for abrasions, contusions, lacerations, and scrapes. A dog’s mouth is a wonder of all-natural medicinal drool!”

  So, when Gil shrugged, Ruff licked his knuckles assiduously. Gil said, “That does make them feel a little better, now that you mention it. Good grief, it is hot today. There is a pitcher of sweet tea there in the kitchen window, just sitting on the sill. You know any way I could get in and get it?”

  “Ah! Ha! You mean like a secret doggy path we can find beneath the mountains to the buried kingdoms of the hidden folk? Uh! Oh! No, there is nothing like that here. There is a puddle in the culvert outside town I can show you. And I found a raccoon who’d been killed by a car! I can bark and scare off the crows. Some of his guts had fluid in them, or his heart maybe. That will quell any thirst! What about these dogwood fruits?”

  “That is called a Cornelian Cherry. It is not a dogwood.”

  “Ha! Ha! Don’t argue. I know trees. Here, lie down, and I will lick your head. Make you feel better!”

  Gil, eyes closed and covered with sweat, was supine on the landing with his feet dangling down the steps. His shirt was unbuttoned in the hope that a breeze might wander by, exposing the ruddy, purple, blue and sooty hues of the bruises covering him. And a black and white dog was busily licking his silvery hair with its leaking red stains.

  Ruff said, “Oh, you gotta tell me. I am naturally curious. I am a naturally curious dog.”

  “Anything, Ruff,” said Gil lazily.

  “Why do you get in fights so much? Why not just, you know, flop on your back and expose your throat? It is what I do when I am outmatched. Saves on stress.”

  2. The Once and Future King

  “Let me tell you the story. Once upon a time–”

  “Good! Good! I love stories. Especially the once-upon-a-time kind. Those stories are true!”

  “Actually, it was six years ago to the day on my tenth birthday. I came home sporting a black eye and bawling like a baby. I started a fight, but I could not finish it. Well, my Mom quizzed me, and I handed her half-truths and lame excuses. She was too wise to believe me but too softhearted to punish me, not on a day when she had baked me a cake. That cake was shaped like an Eskimo hut, complete with an Eskimo made of icing crawling out the door, and coconut shavings were the snow.

  “And I got a present, a telescope with a tripod, from my cousin Tom. We had a flat roof because we lived in California in those days, and it never rained or snowed, and from the first time I saw it when we moved there, I wanted to camp out on that roof. That night I got my wish. I slept on the roof in a sleeping bag under the stars and was allowed that night to stay up as late as I liked, looking at the beautiful stars through my new telescope. It was an 80-millimeter refractor on a two-axis mount. I had duct-taped red plastic over my flashlight. I saw the Orion Nebula and the three stars of Polaris. Along the arch of the Milky Way, I saw a white swan flying at night, something I have never seen since.

  “It should have been the best night of my life. It was the worst.

  “It was the worst night of my life,” he continued. “I was a total crybaby, and a total liar, and a total coward, and my Mom just… coddled me. I needed a Dad. Someone to beat some sense into me.”

  Gil raised his hand and wiped his eyes.

  Ruff said, “You weeping? Dogs don’t weep.”

  Gil said, “Must be dog slobber in my eyes.”

  Ruff said, “Must have come from some other dog then because I have been extra careful. Dogs are careful, careful creatures. What happened next? In your story?”

  “So I picked one.”

  “One what?”

  “A Dad! I picked a dad for me.”

  “Can you do that?”

  “I did. I picked a Dad whose son was the worst son in history, a son named Mordred. He ended up killing his Dad, or almost. I promised to live up to the ideals of this great king even if he never knew. Some say he never lived, but I say he never died. Do you know who I mean?”

  “Um. I am not good at riddle games. Foxes are good with riddles.”

  “I read a book about him. It was called The Once and Future King. He said, ‘I don’t think things ought to be done because you are able to do them. I think they should be done because you ought to do them. Not might makes right, but might for right. After all, a penny is a penny in any case, however much might is exerted on either side, to prove that it is or is not.’ He said that as a kid, and he grew up and lived it. The forces of evil destroyed him for that.”

  “Darn those forces of evil! I’d bite them. I’d bite them hard!”

  “Good dog.”

  “Where is he now? This guy?”

  “Buried under a mountain in England, but some say three fair queens carried him to Avalon to be healed of his great wound.”

  “Hmm. No. England is your better bet. Avalon? Nope. No one there.”

  “So, anyway, that became my lesson. But you see the problem. I had to know what I ought to do! I had to pick my own oughts. I needed oughts that would make him proud.”

  The dog stopped licking. Gil looked at the reddish glow of sunlight seen through closed lids. The warmth made him feel drowsy.

  “Aha! So now you are curious, aren’t you? I made myself a promise then. A solemn and sacred vow. This is what I swore: Never curse and never cry! Never cower and never lie! Do what’s right and never shirk! Be polite and not a jerk!

  “And after that, I added another line, to bring my number of commandments up to ten. No blaming another and no shaming your mother! Okay, it is not Shakespeare, but I was a little kid, and the rhyme was good enough. I never forget those vows.”

  Gil lay in comfort, exhausted and aching and half-asleep, lulled by the heat, lounging on the stairs. He was beginning to realize how wonderful it would be not to have to deal with the gangs of kids at school, or the maddening teachers, or the cowardly principal any more.

  But he sighed, “I just hope Mom does not get shamed by this! Maybe I should just not tell her.”

  That was when he heard his mother’s voice.

  “Those had better be berry stains and not bloodstains, young man,” she said. She was standing over him. How she had come up the rickety stairs without any noise of footfall, he did not know.

  He opened his eyes, hoping to see anger in her face. He did not. There was nothing but a deep and abiding sorrow there, and beneath that, fear.

  3. Ygraine

  Mrs. Moth had one of those unwrinkled and tranquil faces which betrays no sign of age. She might have been anywhere between fourteen and forty. Gil’s craggy and hawklike
features must have come from his father, for her face was oval, smooth, strong, and sharp-chinned. But his gray eyes, long and narrow, and touched with hints of green, he had from her.

  She was in her dull beige uniform of the coffee house and winebar. Her silver hair was carefully hidden in a long scarf that trailed down her back, and the lacy waitress cap was pinned atop it. The tag on her chest said IRENE since no one in this town could pronounce her real name.

  Ruff said, “Hi! Hi! Hello there, Ma’am! Hi, Gil’s Mom! Gil was expelled yesterday! Kicked out of school for good! You smell nice!”

  She said, “What did he just say?”

  Gil sighed and winced in pain. “He said hi. That I am expelled.”

  She took out her latchkey and unlocked the door. “The stray dog must stay outside our home. He is most likely a spy for the elfs.”

  “He also said you smell nice.”

  She smiled sadly. “He still may not cross the threshold, but for his flattery, you may give him the rib bone I saved from the restaurant garbage. Say your farewells to him swiftly, clean yourself up, and go to your room to pack. Whatever we cannot carry, you must burn, and leave no trace.”

  “Mom! We’re not moving again! Please!”

  Her smile did not waver, nor did the sorrow in her eyes grow less. “I will decide this once I have heard the details of your adventures yesterday.”

  “Can we take Ruff?” he said in a very small voice.

  But she had turned away and stepped inside.

  4. Questioning

  Gil took as long as he dared showering and cleaning himself. He rubbed the condensation from the bathroom mirror and put his hands to his head to part the hair. It did not look like he would need stitches. Some of the bruises had already faded. Maybe the dog spit had helped. He looked doubtfully at the slight shadow of fuzz on his jawline. He had never yet needed a razor, and he wondered who could teach him how to shave.

  He dressed and came shuffling out into the corridor. His bedroom door was to the right. There were two doors to the left, one leading to his mother’s room, and one to the bathroom. His fingers touched the blank patch of wall between the two. As he always did, he rapped the panel there to see if it were hollow, containing a secret passage. The wall felt solid. There was an empty light socket near the ceiling above where he rapped. As he always did, he took a moment to pull, twist, and push on the light socket to see if there were a switch or latch hidden there. As ever, there was not.

  He walked slowly to the front room. The kitchen counter and sink were to one side. The swaybacked couch where his mother sat was to the other. The card table on which they ate their meals was folded carefully into the corner. There was no television set. A tall radio box whose front was carved with grinning cherub faces stood in the corner, a lace doily on its head. He took one of the folding metal chairs from the wall and sat down. He stared diligently at his bare feet.

  His mother had unbraided her long hair. Had she been standing, it would have fallen past her hips. Seated, the long, shimmering, shining locks hung over one shoulder down past her knees. It looked like a waterfall of bright moonlight. She had drawn the window blinds as she always did when she combed her hair, so the light was dim. In the gloom, Gil thought he saw little sparks like fireflies following her comb as she stroked.

  He said nothing but simply sat there for a very long time, staring at his feet. Finally, he raised his eyes. “You could yell at me, you know.”

  She said, “What have you done wrong?”

  He pursed his lips. “Nothing. I was in the right. I fought bravely, I stopped some kids from committing a crime. Heck, I even put two of them into the emergency room! Four against one!”

  “Did you win?”

  “Not really.”

  “Tell me the tale from start to finish.”

  “The PA system is broken, so every day after homeroom we all go to the cafeteria to hear whatever the principal wants to say. Announcements and stuff. I went to the other building to my locker to put my jacket away because it was hot. As I was cutting back between the two buildings to get to morning assembly, a little wren popped out of the bushes and told me a gang of boys were breaking into the locker in the principal’s office where they keep the phones and stuff kids aren’t supposed to bring to school. But yesterday one of the teachers found a stash of drugs. I don’t know what kind.”

  She said, “They kept it overnight at the school rather than turning it over to the County Police?”

  Gil shrugged. “I guess. Anyway, it was like the wren said. The kids were in the principal’s office, working the combination lock. I climbed in the window, surprised them, and told them to kneel and surrender.”

  “You were polite?”

  “Yes.”

  “The window was open?”

  “No. I smashed it with my bookbag and worked the latch. It was on the first floor. I held the bag by the straps and used my Algebra book like a hammer throw.”

  “What was the species of wren?”

  He said, “Sylvia ludoviciana.”

  “Male or female?”

  “Female. The males will sing about their territory, but the females only give warning cries. This was a warning cry.”

  “Tell me the rest.”

  5. After

  She had many more questions. He spoke for a long time. After he was done speaking, she said nothing, but continued to comb her hair. She braided it, wrapped it in a scarf, and only then opened the blinds. The sunlight was shockingly bright. Gil was surprised that it was not sunset yet. It had seemed like many slow and grinding hours had gone by, but from the position of the sun, he saw that it had been less than one.

  Ygraine said, “Who knows, or knows enough to guess, that you can understand the speech of birds and beasts?”

  “I told Jeery.”

  “Did he believe you?”

  “He punched me in the face. I got ten dollars in quarters from him. He was using a roll of quarters as brass knuckles.”

  “Did you take it, or did he yield it as a forfeit?”

  “I took it.”

  “You must return it to him and apologize for this fault.”

  “A– agh– apologize! To him?”

  “For the wrongs he did you. Did you not beat him? But he cannot beat you for this wrong you did him. He lacks the strength. Is justice due only to the strong or to all?”

  “To all.” Gil looked at his bare feet again. He heaved yet another sigh. “If I—if he accepts my apology—can we stay?”

  She stood. “I will go with you to his house, and see his eyes, and guess at his heart. If he suspects nothing, we can stay.”

  He said, “But I told the truth. I did hear it from a little bird. You do not want me to lie, do you?”

  “No, but telling the truth is expensive,” she said in a soft, distant voice. “And no man builds a tower without he first counts out the price, lest haply he must cease work halfway and be a laughingstock. What worth is a tower half-built and without height? And if it rest on a hilltop, who can hide it?”

  Gil looked at his mother’s kind and serene face. “What do we do if they set the police on us? Mr. Wartworth said he was sending the deputies to search my locker.”

  She said, “He will make no complaint to the police.”

  Gil said, “Why not?”

  Ygraine said, “Mr. Wartworth was the one behind the crime. He hoped to sell the package of drugs to his profit.”

  Gil did not know how she had come to that conclusion, but he had never known her to be wrong before.

  She peered at him closely. “What else have you seen?”

  Gil had a strange, strong intuition. He said, “I saw a dark boat on the river. Like a week ago.”

  She said, “Was there music of fife, with veiled maidens mourning and lamenting?”

  “Yes to the lamenting, no to the fife. Who was on that boat?”

  “The mementos of someone taken. A lord or lady of this area was slain. It portends that there will
be a battle here over the measures and times and seasons. It means you and I must be apart for a time.”

  She said, “Come! We have a long way. It is an hour’s walk to the bus stop, and from the Food Lion to Mr. Wartworth’s house is another mile. You will not return with me on the bus.”

  “What? What will I do?”

  “If your schooling days are done, as it seems they are, then you must find work.”

  “Where? How?”

  “Start searching the shops in town until you find a job. I do not mean mere chores or yardwork, but a steady and honest trade. You will not be welcome here over my threshold until then.”

  “You’re kicking me out?”

  She shook her head. Her voice was serene. “No. I am showing my faith in you.”

  “What if I don’t find a job in one day? The sun will be setting by the time we even get there. Where will I sleep?”

  “You may ask the sheriff to put you in a cell overnight. He seems a kindly man.”

  6. Embering

  Gil packed a knapsack, into which he put two changes of clothing, his knife and flashlight and a few other things he thought he might need, such as a ball of string, a roll of tinfoil, a shaker of salt, and a bar of soap.

  He went into the kitchen to get a few cans of beans or a loaf of bread and maybe an empty bottle to fill with water, when he came across his birthday cake. It was coated with blue frosting sculpted into waves and decorated with images of the Monitor and the Merrimack, with cannonballs made of sugar-paste. He wondered how old the sailors had been aboard those two Civil War riverboats. A weird twinge of pride ran through him then, and he decided not to eat any of his mother’s food, not even a morsel, until he had earned his own bread himself. He left the cake untouched, the candles unlit, and no wishes made.

  Gil did not speak again until they were out of the house and had been trudging down the hot road for a long while. Gil squinted up at the sun and pulled his baseball cap low over his head.