Rydan's Folly
Rydan gave a quick bow and straightened, hurrying away with his arms full. Carefully he juggled the multitude of jars and bottles Kyrr had told him to take from his workroom. He made it four steps when the first bottle fell. He heard the glass shatter upon the stone floor of the tower, and heard the soft tinkle as they fell against the stones and his leather boots.
�Boy!� The dreaded sound of Kyrr�s voice came from the far room.
Another jar shattered against the stones.
�Boy!� The voice came again, harsher and louder. �Rydan!� Loud footsteps echoed in from the far room as Kyrr made his way toward the door.
Sending a prayer upwards, Rydan shifted his arms, and ran to the sink. God must have been listening, as nothing more fell. He bent over, letting them gently tumble into towels on the sink bottom. He didn�t turn around to see whether Kyrr had followed him in or not. Trying to calm his shaking hands, he dampened another towel to clean up the glass with. He knew he would be punished, he deserved to be punished. He had been raised by Kyrr and knew folly deserved penalty.
That was the second most important lesson Kyrr had taught him: do things right the first time. The most important lesson he had been taught, was not to break. To keep control of himself, to take things with the thought that it couldn�t last forever, and there was always something worse.
Kyrr was a strict task manager and quick to find fault. Rydan was grateful to him though. Kyrr had taken him from the streets twelve years ago, rescuing him from poverty and homelessness. He didn�t remember any of that though, only his times with Kyrr. When he was younger, Kyrr had taught him his letters and numbers, how to ride a horse, and fight with a sword. They had even laughed together on occasion. When Rydan was sick, Kyrr took care of him, and when Kyrr was sick, Rydan took care of him. His life with Kyrr wasn�t to be complained about. If there was anything to find fault with, it was that Rydan did find himself lonely from time to time. Rydan thought of Kyrr like a son would a father, though he never called him anything other than �sir� or �milord�.
He bent down and began picking up the larger pieces. He clasped them in one hand, while smoothing the wet rag across the glittering stone. Most of the glass stuck to the wetness on the rag, and he rose to shake it out in the waste.
He turned, to see Kyrr standing in the doorway. Kyrr was tall, with hair that was black as night, streaked with white. He had pale skin and harsh blue eyes. His unlined, frowning face moved little when he spoke. �Did you do this?�
Rydan bowed his golden head, his hands clutching the rag. �Yessir.� He intoned softly. He could feel Kyrr�s icy gaze on the top of his head. �I did.�
�Finish cleaning it up, I will be waiting for you.� The man almost turned to go, and then paused as if waiting for something.
Rydan swallowed. �Thank you�� He said, straightening as the man left, his nearly black clothes blending in with the shadows in the opposite room.
Rydan did as he was instructed, swabbing up the little liquid that stained the stone a dark crimson color before washing out the rag and laying it to dry across the pump. He squared his shoulders and went to meet Kyrr outside.
Nearly two hours later, he lay bare-chested on his stomach, trying not to move. Settling his chin on his hands, he stared out the small window across from his cot. His green eyes stung from holding back tears, but Rydan didn�t cry. Never had he cried, not even when he had broken his arm years ago falling from a horse. His back stung and he tried not to move too much. He knew from experience that he wouldn�t sleep much. He could hear Kyrr�s footsteps from the floor above him, going first one way across the room, and then back. He had been at it for the past ten minutes and there was no sign of him stopping.
Rydan was thirsty, and he eyed the pitcher across the room but decided against getting up. Tomorrow would be bad enough; it wouldn�t do to start the painful experience of standing up and bending over early. He figured it could have been worse though, sometimes, he barely made it through his doorway before passing out. Those were the times Kyrr used magic instead of cured leather. Magic seemed to take something out of him both mentally and physically.
He let a heavy sigh go and wincing lay his cheek across his arm. He shut his eyes against the silver moonlight coming through his window and tried to sleep. Images flashed through his mind, of a gentle lady, and large man. Images of a bright palomino, and sturdy gray pony � those were Kyrr�s. When he asked Kyrr why he kept a pony in the stable, Kyrr had responded shortly, �Well, how do you think you got here?� More images came, but he drifted off before he could comprehend any of them.
�Ow!� He woke with a start, blinking groggily in the bright light that came from the lone window. �What?� He shifted, confused, and then winced as something on his back started to throb. His brows creased in bewilderment at the girl who knelt beside his cot.
�No- oh, please don�t move!� She must have been about ten. She held up her hands, one holding a red-stained rag, the other a bottle. Her wavy brown hair was tucked away behind a handkerchief and her hazel eyes wide and scared.
Rydan didn�t listen to her, instead he swung his legs over the side of his cot � somebody had taken his boots off � and bit the inside of his cheek against the pain his movement caused him. �Who�re you? What�re you doing?� He demanded.
The small girl hastily backed away, her eyes on the floor. Rydan realized he still wasn�t wearing a shirt.
�He-he told me to, to put this o-on you.� Her voice stuttered with nerves. Quickly, she set the bottle on the floor next to her knees, bowing her head. �I-I-�
�Kyrr told you?� Rydan asked her, a little astonished. Kyrr had never once in his memory helped him to heal from a punishment. The girl nodded, pulling a basin toward her and dipped the rag into it. �Why?� Rydan asked her, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He pushed his golden hair behind his ears as it fell forward.
�I-I don�t know sir, I th-think you�re g-going somewhere��
�Going somewhere? Where?� He said, attempting to stand up.
The girl squeaked and backed up again. �I-I don�t know! He didn�t tell me! Don�t hurt me!�
Something dawned on Rydan and he paused, sitting back down on the bed. �Where are you from?�
The girl�s hazel eyes got even bigger, and her lip trembled. She stared at him for a moment and then looked away. �Nowhere. I�m from nowhere.� Her words were afraid.
Rydan didn�t press her. Kyrr had brought enough random women in off the streets to steal a child from one. It was surprising that Rydan had never seen her before.
Slowly, he found his feet, and picked up the jar from the floor where the girl had left it. �Well, I guess finish what he told you to do then, it wouldn�t be good to disappoint him.� He held out the jar to the girl.
Like a scared dog, she slowly came forward and clutched the jar. Rydan sighed and turned around, now relieved at the stinging sensation that spread across his back from the ointment. Kyrr�s remedies worked wonders, and if this one were anything like his others, Rydan�s slashed back would be completely healed in less than five minutes.
Incomplete.
Copyright:
LaurenBlewett