Chapter 18.5: We’ll Go Together

Cedoric had decided that if Father meant to send him away, he would have done it by now. He had not announced this decision to anyone. Announcing things gave people the opportunity to tell you that you were wrong. Instead, he had simply begun living as though it were true. 

Three weeks had passed since the Qarthosi delegation left Korvethis. Then four. Then…enough that Cedoric stopped counting. No one had summoned him to Father’s study. No tutor had appeared with books on Qarthosi history or customs. No tailor had been instructed to measure him for clothes suitable for another court. No one had asked which belongings he would want packed. Nothing had changed, and so, eventually, Cedoric decided that nothing would. 

“You’re doing it wrong.” 

Tom looked up from the piece of charcoal in his hand. “I haven’t done anything yet.” 

“Exactly.” Cedoric leaned across the stone between them and snatched the charcoal away. They had taken over one of the low walls at the edge of the old training yard, where the stones were warm from the afternoon sun and no one particularly cared what two boys were doing so long as neither of them fell off. Ash grazed several yards away, occasionally lifting his head to make certain Cedoric had not vanished. Cedoric flattened the paper against his knee. “You have to start with the road.” 

“We don’t know where the road goes.” Tom argued. 

“That’s why we’re making a map.” 

Tom stared at him. “That’s not how maps work.” 

“It is if you’re making one for somewhere you haven’t been yet.” 

“Then it’s not a map.” 

Cedoric drew a thick line down the center of the page. “There. Road.” Tom sighed. Cedoric grinned. They had been planning the journey for most of the afternoon. Not a real journey, obviously. Father would have them both dragged back by the ears if they disappeared beyond the boundaries of the castle now…but someday. That was the important part. Someday. “When I’m sixteen,” Cedoric said, “he’ll have to let me go farther away.” 

Tom snorted. “Why?” 

“Because I’ll be sixteen.” Cedoric said completely logical. 

“A strong argument.” Tom joked. 

“I’ll be nearly a man.” 

“You’ll still only be sixteen.” 

Cedoric shoved him with his shoulder. Tom laughed and nearly slid from the wall. “Fine,” Tom said, catching himself, “when you’re a great and ancient sixteen year old prince, where exactly are we going?” 

“North first.” It was probably the quickest answer he had given all day. 

“Why?” Tom was curious. 

Cedoric paused. He had no idea. “Because everyone always goes south.” 

Tom looked around. “Who?” 

“People.” 

“What people?” 

Cedoric was growing more annoyed with Tom’s questions. “Traveling people.” 

Tom stared at him. “You’re unbearable.”

Cedoric shrugged. “You’re coming anyway.” That ended the argument. It usually did. Cedoric bent over the page again. The road curved north now, and around a mountain Cedoric invented mostly because the page looked empty there. He added a forest beside it. 

Tom leaned closer. “That’s a terrible place for a forest.” 

“Why?” 

His friend put his dirty finger on top of the drawn trees. “Because you put it on the mountain.” 

“Forests can be on mountains.” Cedoric rebutted. 

“Not like that.” Tom said. Cedoric decided to add more trees. Tom groaned. 

They spend the next several minutes ruining the map together. There would be mountains in the north, apparently, and a forest that Tom insisted would kill them. There was a village beside a river where Cedoric decided they would stay for three nights because the innkeeper would have a beautiful daughter. 

Tom informed him that at sixteen, Cedoric would still have no idea what to say to a beautiful girl. Cedoric informed Tom that this was why he was bringing him. 

“For what?” Tom asked, eyebrows raised. 

“To talk to her?” Cedoric smiled cheekily. 

“So I can marry her?” Tom folded his arms. 

“No. So I can.” 

Tom considered this. “That seems unfair.”

Cedoric lifted his chin. “To you?” 

“No, to her.” Tom stuck his tongue out. Cedoric hit him with the map. 

Ash startled at the noise and trotted several paces away. “Look what you’ve done.” Cedoric groaned. 

“What I’ve done?” Tom asked, confused. 

“You frightened him.” 

Tom took a beat. “You hit me!” 

Cedoric looked at him annoyed. “With paper.” 

“...Violently.” Tom’s argument was falling through. 

Cedoric slid down from the wall. Ash watched him approach, ears forward, then allowed Cedoric to rub a hand along his nose. “He’ll come too.” 

Tom looked toward the horse. “On our imaginary journey?” 

“It won’t be imaginary then.” Cedoric ran his fingers through Ash’s forelock. 

“He’ll be old.” Tom reminded his princely friend. “He isn’t that much younger than you.” 

Cedoric frowned. He didn’t like thinking about Ash getting old. “Fine. Then I’ll get another horse.” 

“Ash will be devastated.” Tom told him. 

Cedoric was tired of no answer being good enough. “He can come too.” 

“So now we’re taking two horses?” Tom folded his arms. 

“We’ll need them.” 

“Why?” 

“For our things.” 

“What things?” 

Cedoric finally turned around. “You ask too many questions.” 

Tom shrugged. “One of us has to.” 

Cedoric smiled. Tom was still sitting on the wall, the ruined map beside him, his hair falling into his eyes. It occurred to Cedoric that he couldn’t remember when he’d first started saying we. He supposed there must have been a time before it. When he’d imagined himself older without automatically putting Tom beside him. He couldn’t remember it. “Maybe we’ll go farther than north.” 

Tom picked up the charcoal. “How much farther?”

Cedoric shrugged. “As far as we want.” Tom added something to the map that made Cedoric curious enough to walk back over. “What is that?” 

“The sea.” Tom explained. 

“The sea isn’t there.” 

“Neither is your mountain.” 

“But my mountain could be there.” 

“So could my sea!” Tom shouted. 

Cedoric studied it. “All right.” 

Tom looked suspicious. “All right?”

“We’ll cross it.” 

Tom chuckled. “With what money?” 

“I’ll be a prince.” 

“You’re already a prince.” 

Cedoric paused. That was true. “Then we’ll get one now.” 

Tom laughed. It was loud enough that Ash flicked his tail at them. Cedoric climbed back onto the wall. For the first time in weeks, the future felt enormous, not frightening. Not something decided in a council room while he crouched unseen on the other side of a door. Just enormous. 

He could ride north. He could see the sea. He could find out whether forests really grew on mountains and whether innkeepers actually had beautiful daughters. Perhaps when he was older, Father would send him somewhere as an ambassador. Perhaps one of his brothers would need him as his second. Perhaps no one would need him at all, and he could simply go because he wanted to. There were, after all, eight older siblings. 

That thought had bothered him once, no one needed him. Now it felt oddly different. Maybe being unnecessary could be its own kind of freedom. Cedoric took the charcoal form Tom and drew another road. There one went east. 

“Where’s that one going?” Tom asked. 

“I don’t know yet.” Cedoric admitted. 

“Excellent mapmaking.” Tom joked. 

“Thank you.” Cedoric joked back. 

Tom leaned back on his hands. “You know your father is never going to let you wander around the world doing whatever you want.” 

“He might.” 

“He won’t.” 

Cedoric bit the inside of his cheek to stop from showing how much that annoyed him. “Then I’ll ask Walric.” 

“When he’s king?” Tom asked, Cedoric nodded. “He’ll say no.” 

“Then I’ll ask Wrena.” Cedoric sighed. 

“She’ll tell Walric.” 

“Leonah.” 

“She’s been planning on leaving for a while.” 

Cedoric hesitated. “Then…Elmara.” 

Tom chuckled. “She’ll pray for you.”

“That’s useful.” 

“Very.”

Cedoric thought about the two brothers he skipped over. “Nokon?”

Tom chucked. “He’ll come with us.” 

Cedoric laughed. That was probably true. “Orther?” 

Tom thought about it longer than the rest. “He might actually help.” 

“Orther, then.” Cedoric nodded. 

“There, we solved it.” Tom laughed. 

Cedoric nodded solemnly. “At sixteen, we ask Orther.” 

Tom was quiet for a moment. “And what if he says no?” 

“Then we ask at seventeen.” Cedoric replied. 

“And if he still says no?” Tom asked. 

“Eighteen.” 

Tom smiled. “And if everyone says no?”

Cedoric looked down at the ridiculous map spread between them; the mountains and forests and the impossible sea. Then he looked towards Ash. Beyond the training yard, the palace rose above them, it’s towers catching the late afternoon light. 

Home. The place he had been born. The place where his brothers and sisters shouted across corridors and stole one another’s food and argued over horses and books and who had taken whose coat. The place where Elmara had found him sitting alone weeks ago and stayed without asking him to explain. The place where, for several terrible days, Cedoric had thought everyone might be preparing to give him away. 

But they hadn’t. The Qarthosi had left and his rooms were untouched. His lessons continued and tomorrow morning he was expected at breakfast. Tomorrow afternoon he was expected in the training yard. Next week his tutor had threatened an examination. Life had gone on, Cedoric looked back at Tom. “Then we go anyway.” 

Tom’s eyebrows rose. “Do we?” He watched the prince nod. “That’s treason.” 

“It isn’t reason if I’m a prince.” Cedoric told him. 

“I…don’t think that’s true…” Tom thought out loud. 

“You don’t know.” 

“Neither do you.” Tom argued, but then stopped as Cedoric held out his hand. Tom looked at it. “What?” 

“Promise.” Cedoric told him seriously. 

“Promise what?” 

“That when we’re old enough, we go.” 

Tom’s expression changed, only slightly. The teasing disappeared. He looked down at Cedoric’s hand, then back at him. “Anywhere?” 

“Anywhere.” Cedoric promised. 

Tom took it. “All right.” 

Cedoric squeezed his hand once. “We’ll go together.” 

Tom squeezed back. “Together.” 

Neither of them noticed the servant standing beneath the archway until she called Cedoric’s name. He turned. “Your Highness. Your mother is looking for you.” 

Cedoric groaned. “Did she say why?” 

“No, Your Highness.” 

That usually meant she knew he’d skipped something. He hopped from the wall and shoved the map at Tom. “Keep that.” 

“Why?” Tom asked. 

“So you don’t lose it.” 

“You’re giving it to me.” 

“Exactly.” 

Tom folded it carefully despite everything he’d said about its accuracy. Cedoric whistled for Ash. He had made it halfway across the yard before Tom called after him. “Cedoric!” 

He turned. 

Tom held up the folded map. “Sixteen?” 

Cedoric walked backward toward the palace and smiled at his friend. “Sixteen!” 

Tom grinned, then Cedoric turned and ran. There would be time. That was what he believed now. Time to grow older, time to make plans. Time to see where every road went. And somewhere inside the palace, tucked among treaties and promises made long before Cedoric was old enough to understand them, another road had already been drawn for him.