Listen to the Wind- Part Three
Listen to the Wind
They had cooked all day Christmas Eve. Brendon, Jon and Tom all following Cassie’s directions more than anything. Once, when they took a break to let the yeast rise and the ham roast, Jon took a look at the bandages that Brendon had applied to Ryan’s feet.
“It looks as if he did a fine job,” Jon told Ryan with a cheerful smile. “Are they feeling any better than when he first did this?”
“A little, Sir,” Ryan had replied and Jon had had to lift Ryan’s head with gentle fingers.
“Brendon tells me,” Jon spoke in Spencer’s direction, “that you have scarring. I’m a doctor and when we get to Ashbourne, I’ll see what I can do about them. I have a number of lotions, ointments and exfoliates that may help to reduce their appearance. Ryan too.”
Spencer hadn‘t thought about going to Ashbourne until Jon said that, but the idea suddenly seemed a little intimidating. He wasn‘t going to Ashbourne as he‘d come to Wildelow. There would be no hiding by cover of forest and darkness. No sneaking past guards or soldiers. He could travel into Ashbourne just like any other person would- by horseback or by wagon and no one could stop him. Ryan however, Ryan they‘d have to hide. No one knew where he had come from and they wouldn‘t hesitate to take him right back to Caoldale should they recognize him.
“Thank you,” Spencer replied, distractedly. “May I ask you something, Doctor?”
“Anything you’d like,” Jon answered.
“Is there any chance you know if there is a Ryan missing from anywhere near where I’m from in Ashbourne?”
Jon sighed. “I’m afraid not. I’m afraid you’re the only person I’ve ever known of to have been in such a heartbreaking tale. Your family, you know, is wealthy. They’re good people, kind and honest. They help a lot of poorer people in the area, support the orphanage where Brendon and I grew up. When you disappeared, I’ve been told that they offered quite a steep reward for anyone who could return you home to them.”
“I don’t remember them,” Spencer said solemnly. “I have very few memories of my life before being a slave. I don’t even have many memories of that. You block out what you can.”
Jon nodded, “That’s normal. It’s a defense mechanism your mind creates to protect you, keep you from remembering and reliving things that have scared or hurt you.”
Ryan sighed sadly from next to Spencer. He’d remained quiet much of the day. It was almost as if he didn’t know his place now that he and Spencer were no longer equals. Spencer had kept their hands locked and kept Ryan by his side, but it didn’t change how Ryan felt about anything.
*==*==*==*
“You mean you can’t see anything?” little Willa asked as she stood directly in front of Spencer.
“No ma’am,” he replied. “Not anymore.”
“But your eyes are open,” she pointed out quickly. “They look like they can see me.”
“Willa, stop bothering Spencer. He’s our guest.” Cassie scolded.
Willa pouted. “But Muma, he said he can’t see me and he’s looking at me.” She sidled up closer to Spencer and bent down right in front of him. “You even can’t see me like this?”
“I even can’t see you like that, Miss Willa,” Spencer replied with a slight smile on his lips. “But I know you must be right in front of me because I can feel your breath on my face when you talk.”
“Willa!” Cassie called again, this time with Jon echoing her. “Leave Mr. Spencer alone.”
“She’s fine, Mrs. Walker,” Spencer assured warmly.
It was all Ryan could do not to push her away and demand that no, she was not “fine;” she was taunting. Spencer had to squeeze Ryan’s hand and assure him that she wasn’t like the children who had hurt him before. She hadn’t played any cruel tricks on him. She had simply never met someone who was blind before and was curious, as any child would be.
Suddenly, Tom swooped in and scooped her up and away from Spencer. “Why don’t you go tell Uncle Brendon about the things you’ve been learning with your letter blocks?” he asked before tickling her into giggling fits.
“Relax,” Spencer breathed into Ryan’s hair. “I’m fine.” Ryan just rested his head against Spencer’s shoulder and waited for dinner.
*==*==*==*
Christmas morning seemed to fly by. The tree was tied up with caramels and fruits and sugar plums and pecans, but soon enough, they’d eaten at least half of it. There were tiny wooden people Brendon had carved out in his spare time this past autumn and tiny furniture to go with them. Willa was delighted. She had thrust one of them into Tom’s hand and taken yet another over to Spencer and Ryan and demanded that they play with her.
“Can you play?” Willa had asked Spencer, concern in her voice at the prospect of someone not being able to play, but Spencer smiled back at her.
“I’ll try.”
Even Brendon had joined them at one point, trying to help guide Ryan and Spencer along in the ways of play. It was something Brendon had never considered someone wouldn’t know how to do, but he figured when the childishness was forced out of someone, it was hard to get it to return. Spencer and Ryan had given it there best shots though and Willa had been pleased. Spencer’s character had been the baby anyway so it hadn’t required him to do a lot. Ryan’s character had been named Angeline. Willa was quite convinced that Angeline was a fairy so Ryan had mostly spend time making her fly above the others and take care of the baby while it was sleeping as he assumed a fairy godmother would do. Tom and Brendon seemed to deem it appropriate as well because neither one said a word.
When the Christmas festivities were over that evening, the family didn’t wait around a few days at Brendon’s house like they usually did. Instead, they packed up their things and loaded them back onto the wagon. It had been decided that Brendon would go with them to Ashbourne to return Spencer to his family. Spencer had vowed that he would go nowhere without Ryan. Brendon had suspected as much, but he hadn’t expected that they would care if he came along or not. However, the two boys had been adamant Brendon went with them.
Brendon bundled them up in extra blankets of his and everyone except Tom and Jon settled into the back of the covered wagon. Spencer was still holding onto an orange he had received that morning and Ryan still clung to an apple. They had both squirreled away walnuts and chestnuts in their pockets. No one had said anything about the fruits and if anyone had noticed the nuts, they hadn’t said anything about those either.
As they traveled down the bumpy roads, Willa grew tired. “Tell me a story, Muma,” she’d asked.
“You tell me a story, Willa,” Cassie had replied, but Willa had only whined a sleepy response.
“You know what I can do without seeing?” Spencer asked Willa and she looked at him expectantly.
“I can tell a story,” he assured. “Would you like that?”
Willa nodded and squealed with delight as Ryan leaned into Spencer and closed his eyes. He loved hearing Spencer tell stories. It’s one of the only things he remembers about Spencer being young. Spencer used to read to him. It should have been a hint all along that Spencer came from an intelligent background, but until now, it hadn’t crossed Ryan’s mind.
He listened to Spencer’s soothing voice until he fell asleep, and by the time he was asleep so was Willa. Brendon helped Spencer to rearrange things until they could comfortably place Ryan so that he was lying down and then Spencer lay down next to him, curling in close to keep them both warm under their blankets. Brendon tucked the blankets around them tightly and sat back. It would take three days to reach their destination. They had to sleep sometime.
Brendon hadn’t even noticed he’d drifted off until he was awoken by some loud unfamiliar voices. They must have been at the Wildelow-Ashbourne border because the patrol house was not far from them and giving off a warm glow through the windows, lighting up the snow outside them on the ground. Even in the dim lights, Brendon could see there was less snow there than there had been at his home.
“What’s in the back, gentlemen?” a voice asked and Brendon’s heart started racing. Spencer started to stir, but Brendon leaned down to whisper between them, “Stay asleep. Don’t move.” Cassie smiled at Brendon and placed Willa down in between the two. When Willa slept, she usually slept through earthquakes and tidal waves so it was no surprise that she didn’t so much as stir when Cassie placed her down between Spencer and Ryan. Brendon gave her a questioning look, but she shrugged it off.
Suddenly, there was a man climbing onto the back of the wagon and peering in with a lantern held out. Brendon held his breath and tried his best to remain calm.
“Merry Christmas, Sir,” Brendon greeted when the man surveyed the back. The patrolman held the lantern out over Spencer, Ryan and Willa, but when he noticed the sleeping child, he pulled it away quickly so as to not wake her. He looked once more at Cassie and Brendon before jumping down from the wagon edge.
“Happy Christmas,” the patrolman told them as he stepped aside. “Carry on safely. Stay warm.”
Jon and Tom both nodded at him as they spurred the horses back into action.
*==*==*==*
The trip after that was easy. Jon looked in a few of the obvious places: centers of villages, trading posts, general stores, but he didn’t see any signs for Spencer or Ryan. A few times, he even tried small talk with the store employees asking if they’d heard about that market that had burned down in Caoldale, but most of them only shook their heads or commented on how unfortunate it must be for them. No one seemed to know anything about runaway slaves.
Spencer and Ryan didn’t leave the wagon unless they were near the forest and it was after nightfall. Despite the lack of posters, no one seemed to think walking around and making a show of themselves was the best idea either- not that anyone thought Ryan and Spencer were the types to make shows of themselves.
“We’ll be there by daybreak,” Tom told little Willa one night when she was snuggled down next to a sleeping Cassie. “Try to get some sleep, okay?”
“Will you tell me a story?” she asked, but Tom shook his head.
“I have to drive us there. But I bet someone else will be happy to tell you a story.” Tom smirked at Brendon and turned back around toward the horses.
“Ryan’s turn,” Willa decided, pointing right at the boy. “You tell me a story!”
“I uh,” Ryan started and shook his head. “I’m horrible at stories.” He glanced down at Spencer who was sleeping soundly next to him and frowned.
Brendon said, “Here,” and rummaged around in his bag before pulling out a book containing a collection of fairy tales and moving the lantern closer to Ryan. “Just read one of these. They’re short.”
Ryan didn’t even reach to take it. He looked at Brendon, then back at the book and then back to Spencer. “I- I-” Ryan shook his head at Brendon. He paused a moment and took a deep breath. “I can’t use that,” he finally told his lap.
“The book’s easy. It’s for children,” Brendon told him, well aware he read better than many people did.
Ryan still didn‘t take it. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t-” He shook his head and didn’t finish his statement.
It was the first time Brendon noticed that the air was milder where they were. He suddenly felt hot and pushed his covers side. Suddenly the wagon was too small and cramped. Brendon needed out.
“You can’t read at all?” he managed to ask.
Ryan shook his head tightly. He wasn’t sure why he was embarrassed. Most slaves had never been taught to read, many were even prohibited from learning by law. Still, he could feel his cheeks getting warmer.
Brendon placed the book down and reached in his bag again. He scrambled around a bit before he pulled out what he’d been searching for and then placed a small writing booklet and a steel nib pen on his lap. He retrieved a small glass jar of ink and asked Ryan to hold it carefully as he dipped his pen tip into it and began to write on the first empty page of the booklet.
Ryan thought that if Brendon were about to show off his intellect he was going to be pissed, but instead Brendon wrote down four letters side-by-side and turned the booklet around to Ryan.
“Do you know what this says?”
Ryan looked at it for a moment, but shook his head no.
“That’s your name,” Brendon told him. Ryan’s finger reached out to touch the word, but his fingertip smeared the still-wet ink. “Careful,” Brendon warned. “Here, try this.” He held out the pen to Ryan and said only, “You try to write it underneath there.”
Something in Ryan’s mind felt a sense of pride just in picking up the pen. He held it a little funny, but Brendon didn’t think it was a big enough deal to try to correct. Willa peered over at Ryan slowly copying the strokes onto the paper and then looked to Brendon and asked, “Are you going to teach Ryan like he goes to your school?”
“I can teach him if he wants,” Brendon answered readily. “You know I can.”
Ryan stopped the pen and looked up at Brendon questioningly.
“I’m a schoolmaster,” Brendon supplied. “At least, I am when it’s not winter holidays. This is what I teach everyday.” Ryan’s eyes widened and Brendon laughed. “Did you think most grown men carried around a collection of children’s fairytales in their bags?”
Honestly, Ryan didn’t know what men read. All he knew was that he’d never been given the education or permission to do so himself.
“I’ll teach you, if you want,” Brendon offered and he took the booklet back to admire Ryan’s first try at writing his name. “We can start right now.”
Ryan was nodding rapidly and moving to sit closer to Brendon in the small wagon before Brendon had even comprehended his answer and could make room for him.
*==*==*==*
The Smiths didn’t believe what Jon was telling them until he brought Spencer, flanked by Ryan, Brendon, and Jon’s whole family, right into the foyer of the Smith manor. Ginger Smith didn’t have to look twice to know the boy who entered her front door was her son.
Spencer was mostly silent, allowing his mother and sisters to hold onto and cry over him. He didn’t let go of Ryan’s hand the whole time. It didn’t seem real. They were all so happy, yet still to him, they were strangers.
What time had allowed him to remember of his childhood was minimal. He had a few memories, but nothing that brought to mind any of his family’s faces. Now they were nothing but faceless voices weeping over him. Spencer wasn’t sure anyone had ever been so happy to see him before except Ryan when one of them had been hurt or taken away for too long. Nothing like this- with delighted voices and joyful tears and the multitude of hugs.
Spencer wondered what Jon had told them of his past, if he’d told them where he’d been all these years, if it would cause them to act differently toward him.
“In my mind you’re still nine years old,” Mrs. Smith told him as she brushed hair back from his face. “You’re still supposed to fit in my arms and not reach my shoulder and instead you’re now taller than I am,” she sniffed as she tried to wipe her eyes on a handkerchief. “And you look so beautiful, Spencer. I didn’t think this day would ever come.”
Ryan, who stood only a step behind the ordeal, squeezed Spencer’s hand. Even Ryan, who’d seen Spencer at some indefinitely lower points in his life, wouldn’t have said Spencer was looking particularly “beautiful” at that moment. In fact, he was looking rather pitiful after traveling those weeks in the snow and ice and not having fully recovered yet. But Ryan wasn’t about to contradict a mother during a reunion with her long-lost son. Ryan was content to stand there and let Spencer’s family have all the time they needed to get their feelings out.
At least, he was until Mrs. Smith looked over Spencer’s shoulder and asked hesitantly, “Ryan?”
*==*==*==*
Brendon outright refused to take the reward money.
“Young man, I don’t think you understand what you’ve done for this family,” Mr. Smith had said to him after dinner.
“Sir, I-” Brendon shook his head, “I didn’t do anything heroic. I just found someone out in the cold and brought him inside. You would have done the same.”
“Spencer’s been missing for ten years, Mr. Urie,” Spencer’s father said. “Every night for ten years, my wife and I have gone to bed wondering where our son is, if he’s safe, if he’s even alive. Tonight is the first time since he was taken that we can sleep knowing he’s safe in his room.”
“He’s not the same person you knew,” Brendon warned. “I didn’t know him then, but I can assure you, Sir, that he’s changed dramatically. Some really bad things have happened to him. Some people-” Brendon shook his head, “I wish I could have brought him back to you a little more whole.”
“The reward money isn’t for bringing him back ‘whole;’ it‘s just for bringing him back at all.”
Brendon still shook his head slowly. “I still can’t take it. If you want to repay me, give Spencer and Ryan plenty of space and let them feel safe here.” Brendon made sure he made his point very clear, his voice very emphatic, “Let them be themselves before you try to make them into your ideal family members. They have to be allowed to remember who they are. Let them do that.”
*==*==*==*
Brendon was allowed to go up to Spencer’s room later that evening. The house was mostly dark and only the warm glow of candles around the room lit it up. The thick curtains were pulled closed and Ryan lie curled up into Spencer’s side on the bed, but when Brendon knocked both boys sat up almost instantly, Ryan moving to get off the bed, but Spencer held him back with a strong hand around his wrist.
“It’s just me,” Brendon spoke through the door and they breathed easier.
“It’s unlocked,” Spencer called back as he settled back down against the pillows.
Brendon closed the door behind him and walked over toward the bed. The room was still set up like that of a child, but Brendon guessed he should have figured as much.
The full story had come out just before dinner. Spencer and Ryan had been kidnapped as children, stolen by a poorer servant’s family and were only supposed to have been held for ransom, but once the ransom was paid they were sold to a slave caravan traveling east. The servant, his family, and anyone who had helped had been found out and rounded up, locked away in a prison where many still were, but none of it had brought the boys home.
Ryan hadn’t been a part of Spencer’s family exactly. His father had been a servant in the household temporarily and when Ryan’s mother, a young slave girl, became pregnant, he found new work before anyone discovered the child was his. He’d never acknowledged Ryan, but Ryan’s mother had loved her son dearly and had done all that she could for him. Because of how well she did being a mother, Mrs. Smith had allowed her to help in the nursery when Spencer was young. She’d brought Ryan along to the playroom each day and the two boys had subsequently grown up close to one another. It explained why both Spencer and Ryan couldn’t remember a time far enough back in their lives that the other wasn’t there. It also confirmed what Ryan feared - Spencer may have been free, but Ryan had only traded one master for another.
“I just wanted to check on you both. Find out how you were settling in on your first night.” Brendon smiled warmly.
After meeting so many new people, Brendon’s voice was a welcomed familiarity. Ryan curled back into Spencer’s side carefully and motioned for Brendon to sit down on the foot of the bed. Spencer wanted Brendon to get comfortable before he spoke.
“They made Ryan a place in-” he pointed off in the direction of where he was speaking, but Spencer was loathe to say, “slave quarters.”
“Spence-“ Ryan started, but Brendon understood.
“Just tell them you’d rather have him with you,” Brendon explained easily. “I’m sure they’d understand. They’re good people, Spencer. I’ve never heard Jon say a single negative word about them and on top of that, they dearly love you. You just have to give them a chance. Just say you want Ryan to stay with you and don‘t worry about it.”
Spencer and Ryan both nodded, but neither said a word. Brendon was trying to help, but he didn’t understand the way their minds worked- how nothing could be that simple to them. Both were sure they couldn’t remember the last time one of them had asked for something and they weren’t going to start asking for things tonight.
*==*==*==*
Nothing was broken, except maybe Spencer’s ribs. He wasn’t sure how many stairs there had been, but he was positive he’d missed every last one of them.
He lie there a minute, on polished wood, wondering where he’d landed before the unmistakable noise of footsteps began to be heard. He scrambled up and held onto the wall, trying to regain his bearings. His head felt somehow disconnected. He must have been so busy focusing on the pain thrumming through him that he forgot to pay attention to how close the footsteps were coming until someone reached out and placed a hand gentle on his face. Spencer flinched away instinctively.
“Are you okay?” a soft voice asked. “Your lip is bleeding.”
Spencer couldn’t help the way his whole body shook. He’d seen slaves awaken masters before, had seen how they were punished. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew this situation was different, but for the most part it felt all the same.
Someone else joined the girl, asking, “Everything alright, Jacqueline?” This time Spencer heard the approaching footsteps.
“Oh, come. Sit down,” the other voice said and Spencer was fairly positive these were his younger sisters. They lead him over to a chair, soft and upholstered.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Spencer said quietly.
Jacqueline hushed him. “It’s nothing.” Then, “Crystal, wet a cloth for his lip, please.”
Spencer refrained from clutching his side. He’d been in worse pain before. Another person found them, wherever they were, and Spencer heard a sizzling sound as someone poked at a fire and it came to life, larger than it had been just moments before. The person was probably a slave, tending to the fires at such a late hour with no qualms about it, but Spencer would have felt more comfortable knowing for sure. He would have felt more comfortable being able to see how the slaves were treated in the house. His house, his mind kept saying. His home. After all, that’s what they’d all told him, “Welcome home.”
“We’ll have to teach you your way around before you go wondering about on your own,” one of his sisters said as she sat down next to him and began dabbing his lip with a cool, wet cloth. Spencer reached out and took it from her. “I’ll take you on a tour through the place tomorrow if you’d like. We can do that until you learn your way around it.”
“Then you won’t have to worry about those wretched stairs,” the other sister added as she came closer. “Did you hurt yourself anywhere else? We can call Dr. Walker.”
Spencer considered lying. Slaves never told anyone when they were hurt. But Spencer wasn’t a slave here and he knew that, although changing his way of thinking was going to take much longer than a few hours. Still, the idea of Jon, someone he knew slightly better, was more comforting.
Spencer said, “Yes, if you don’t mind,” and whoever had been in the room attending silently to the fire left just as quickly to fetch Jon.
“What were you even doing out of bed?” Jon asked as he pressed his stethoscope to Spencer’s chest.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Spencer replied, rubbing his eyes and slumping a little. Jon push a little on Spencer’s shoulder and Spencer corrected his posture.
“Is that a euphemism for ‘Going to check on Ryan’?” Jon asked. He moved his stethoscope to Spencer’s back and listened again. Spencer didn’t say anything.
A frown formed on the doctor’s face. “Your breathing sounds horrible in here,” Jon told him. “Have you been sick?”
Spencer laughed and Jon clearly heard the wheezing sound in it. Jon wasn’t sure if he should be more surprised that Spencer actually laughed or that he hadn’t caught that Spencer was sick before. Spencer had traveled in the wilderness for at least three weeks in the dead of winter. He most likely hadn’t been well enough to make the trip to Ashbourne even if it had been by covered wagon.
“Brendon was treating it,” Spencer replied. “It’s much better than it was. It just sort of came back with the travel from Wildelow.”
“It’s not better,” Jon mumbled, seemingly more to himself than to Spencer.
“It’s better than it was,” Spencer repeated softly. He felt he had to stick up for Brendon after all Brendon had done for him. “It doesn’t hurt to speak anymore.” Jon seemed satisfied with that. Instead of arguing that Brendon wasn’t exactly a doctor Jon switched topics.
“Want me to take you to Ryan?”
Spencer shook his head. “No, no. I wasn’t thinking. We shouldn’t wake him.”
Jon laughed lowly to himself, but said nothing other than, “Your room then?”
Spencer nodded eagerly. “Please.”
*==*==*==*
The next day, Spencer had to wait until Brendon visited to even feel somewhat at ease. No one had brought up Spencer’s mishap from the night before and everyone mostly catered to him, but he still felt so out of place. He couldn’t remember ever being in a manor of that size without having been there to be locked away in some room out of sight until use. And it wasn’t that he minded the people catering to him, it was just that he’d rather them simply guide him a bit so he could do things himself. On top of that, he still hadn’t met back with Ryan since they’d been parted the night before and now it was nearing noon.
“Brendon,” Spencer had said a little desperately when he finally came over to the Smith’s manor. He surprised even himself when he reached out and gripped at Brendon’s forearm. He’d been aiming for Brendon’s shoulder, but he’d take what he could get. “Have you seen Ryan?”
“What do you mean?” Brendon asked as he helped take Spencer’s arm and gently steered him into a room away from the main part of the house and potentially eavesdropping family members.
“They took him to-” Spencer bit him tongue. They were slaves. Or well, he had been and Ryan still was. It’s what they were and Spencer was sure it hadn’t always been that hard to say before. For some reason now it just seemed so much more degrading to say it without referring to himself with Ryan. Spencer changed his words to, “I should be with him.”
“He’s resting,” Brendon told Spencer softly. “Jon’s supposed to go by after lunch and remove his bandages. He should be mostly better, we think. You want me to take you to him?”
“Please,” Spencer said and it sounded like more of Spencer’s heart was in that one word than anything Brendon had heard him say before.
“Come with me,“ Brendon directed as he placed a hand lightly on Spencer’s bicep and guided him toward the side door of the house.
When they were rejoined, Ryan and Spencer embraced as if one of them had returned from war. Brendon turned away at first, but after a second or two, he couldn’t keep his eyes from watching them in his periphery.
Ryan and Spencer held each other while Spencer apologized for something that was mostly out of his control.
“What happened to your lip?” Ryan asked as Spencer settled back on Ryan’s small bed. Ryan’s bed was considerably less comfortable than his own, Spencer noted with a small grimace, but he considered that it was promising that Ryan had his own bed.
“I don’t know my way around the house,” Spencer admitted.
“Oh,” Ryan replied and placed his finger lightly below the cut on Spencer’s lip. He moved forward a bit, but then seemed to think better of it. He glanced at Brendon in the doorway nervously.
“I uh-,” Brendon waved his hands down at his sides as if he weren’t sure what to do with them and then turned away. Over his shoulder he said, “I won’t watch.”
Ryan took a breath to seemingly gather his courage before he pressed a quick kiss to Spencer’s lips. Almost as soon as he pulled back, Ryan considered how strange it was to not feel uncomfortable kissing Spencer now that Spencer was a free man, but it wasn’t. When he turned back around, Brendon noted that neither boy seemed out of the ordinary after the kiss so it was most likely not the first time it had happened.
“I have to find a way to keep you with me,” Spencer said softly and Ryan only made a soft humming noise in agreement.
*==*==*==*
That night, Spencer didn’t fall down the stairs, but he didn’t expect anyone to be awake to catch him either.
“Can I do anything for you, Sir?” a voice spoke and Spencer froze. “I’m Patrick,” the voice said, getting closer. “I um, I work for your family. I’ve been here most of my life. I can probably help you with anything you need.”
At first, Spencer didn’t respond. He gently put his hands down from the lock he’d been trying to figure out on the side door.
“I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”
“Not tonight,” Patrick laughed cordially. “Tonight, I was awake already.”
“Oh, you were- last night?” Spencer make a face.
“I went and retrieved Dr. Walker for you, yes,” Patrick confirmed. Spencer nodded. Spencer heard what sounded like a ceramic mug being set aside before Patrick said, “I’ll show you how the door works if you’d like. It has three locks on it. Rather complicated ones. They aren’t- They’re not meant to bar anyone out. Don’t think that. It’s quite the opposite actually. Your family had complicated locks placed on all the doors after you were taken. I think they just felt safer that way.”
Spencer moved his hands back up to the lock with which he’d been toying around. “You’re a slave?” he asked cautiously.
Spencer wouldn’t ever know how much Patrick wished in that moment that Spencer could see him. Patrick grinned at him a second before replying.
“I live here by a contract that I have no control over. I oversee some of the work that gets done here. I don’t receive a salary for it.” He didn’t sound upset, just honest.
Spencer’s face looked clouded and troubled, but Patrick continued.
“However, I have been here since I was young and not once have I been ‘punished’ or ‘reprimanded’ in any way that you seem to have been in your lifetime.”
Suddenly Spencer was acutely aware of the amount of skin that showed from his short sleeved pajamas and collarless neckline.
“Your family aren‘t those kind of slave owners. And they will take care of your friend you’re so worried about too,” Patrick added. Spencer shook his head immediately, wanting to keep Ryan out of the equation, but Patrick just laughed kindly again. “That’s where you’re going, isn’t it?
Spencer shook his head quickly. “I just can’t sleep so-”
“So you’re going to the slave quarters?” Patrick asked. Spencer looked guilty. “Stay here. I’ll go get him for you. I’m dressed warmer than you are.”
Patrick didn’t tell Spencer that when he found him Ryan had been sleeping under his bed rather than on it. He supposed there were some things to which they would have to adjust. It wasn’t his place to tell anyway. Spencer just thanked him and allowed Ryan to lead them back upstairs.
Once in bed next to one another, it didn’t take either of them very long to fall asleep.
*==*==*==*
“Help me out with something,” Jon told Spencer and Ryan the next evening. “Help me convince Brendon to take the money your family is offering him and to move out here to Ashbourne with us.”
Spencer and Ryan both looked surprised, but Jon noted they looked excited as well.
“That would be wonderful,” Spencer remarked and Ryan nodded next to him.
“He told me he couldn’t leave the schoolhouse in Wildelow, but I have a feeling he’ll have a harder time telling you no,” Jon admitted with a sly grin and the boys only nodded more.
Convincing Brendon turned out not to be so hard after all. Spencer and Ryan merely had to request it with small pouts on their faces. If Spencer perhaps said once that they felt more comfortable with Brendon around, well, no one was going to repeat it. Brendon was a soft-hearted person and always had been so he promised possibly just to see the smiles that lit up Ryan and Spencer’s faces.
“But you’ll have to let me finish the school year,” Brendon commented before anyone could celebrate. “I can’t abandon my students halfway through the year. They‘ll be expecting me back after winter break.”
“You’ll be back soon then at least?” Spencer asked.
“The year ends early so the students can help their families on their farms during most of Spring. We never have classes once the ground begins to thaw so really, it will only be a few weeks that I’m gone- ten or twelve maybe. You won’t miss me too much, right?”
Spencer and Ryan imagined they’d actually miss Brendon a great deal, but they shook their heads and kept a positive attitude.
“It doesn’t take a letter too terribly long to reach me in Wildelow. You should uh,” he hesitated, “have Jon write to me for you. Let me know how things fare while I’m away.”
“Write us too,” Spencer insisted. Ryan made eye contact with Brendon and nodded his head just a little toward the door. Brendon seemed to understand that Ryan wanted to speak to him privately and nodded back. They’d get a chance to speak later. Right now, Brendon thought they should probably all go and tell the Smiths the news.
*==*==*==*
The day after the new year, Brendon took one of the Smiths’ horses and tied his belongings onto its back.
He hugged Jon tightly and then Cassie, Willa and Tom before walking over closely to Spencer and Ryan. He didn’t want to leave them even for a short season, but he knew there wasn’t much else he could do in their given situation. The Smiths would certainly not want Spencer to go back with Brendon and leave them again just yet, even if they knew he was safe, and everyone knew Ryan intended to stay by Spencer’s side no matter where he went.
Ryan had barely left Spencer’s side since the night Patrick had intervened and brought Ryan into the manor. The next morning, Mrs. Smith had gone in to wake Spencer and found Ryan sleeping next to him. She had only smiled sadly before asking a sleepy Spencer if he would be in favor of moving Ryan’s quarters into the house. Spencer wasn’t fully awake yet so he wasn’t even sure how he managed to reply, “Couldn’t Ryan just stay in this room with me?”
They’d given Ryan his own room across the hallway from Spencer’s but, for the most part, Ryan had done just as everyone suspected he would and stayed in Spencer’s room far more than his own. Spencer laughed at the thought of Ryan having a room of his own for the first time in his life and essentially opting out of it, but Spencer knew he couldn’t blame him. After so long together they weren’t meant to be separated.
“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” he asked with a small smile and Ryan and Spencer returned it. He held out his arms and was surprised when Ryan fell into them so easily. Brendon hugged onto his tiny frame tight enough that Ryan could feel secure, but loose enough that he didn’t feel trapped.
“Thank you,” Ryan whispered.
Brendon got the feeling that Ryan didn’t say thank you very easily or often and immediately Brendon hugged him a little tighter, but Ryan seemed okay with it.
When he pulled back, Spencer stood there hesitantly. Ryan nudged him forward just a little and Spencer and Brendon met in a gentle, soft hug. It was nothing like the one Brendon had gotten from Ryan only a moment before. Still, this one felt just as honest. Spencer had been roughly handled before and this hug was sensitive and tender. Spencer had been locked in before and the hug didn’t make Brendon feel confined. Brendon patted gently on Spencer’s back and he hoped it showed Spencer the difference between himself and the way he’d been treated by others before because, if nothing else, Brendon figured it took a lot of trust for someone who couldn’t see you to allow himself to be surrounded in your arms.
Brendon knelt down to Bogart who sat patiently between Ryan and Spencer. “I’ll see you in Spring too,” he told the terrier. “Take care of these boys.” Bogart jumped up so that his forepaws were on Brendon’s knees and tried to lick at Brendon’s face. “And watch that tongue. If I find out you’ve licked my friends away while I was in Wildelow, I’m not going to be impressed.” Bogart kept right on reaching to lick Brendon and finally Brendon bent his head down just a little so Bogart could reach his face.
“Spencer and Ryan will look after him. Spoil him most likely,” Jon commented and Brendon knew that as well. Spencer just picked up Bogart and started scratching a little at his stomach.
“Do me a favor, Jon,” Brendon replied, standing up with a grin. “Make sure Spencer and Ryan get spoiled enough as well until I get back to do it myself.”
They all looked around with bittersweet smiles as Brendon turned and mounted the horse. He only looked back once to wave fondly and everyone watched as he rode down the long driveway. The Smiths’ house was going to feel like a foreign place for a while, but Spencer and Ryan were sure that once Brendon got back they could all settle in properly. They were sure that somehow the three of them could make it feel right. And when Brendon was out of sight, Ryan grabbed Spencer’s hand and led him back inside.
Epilogue
Brendon kept an eye on Ryan as he searched through the Smith’s family library. It wasn’t that Ryan wasn’t allowed free rein of the library. Brendon just enjoyed watching what he did when we was given the opportunity to pick up any book, to learn anything therein, nothing withheld from him.
Ryan had been searching through the titles for the past fifteen minutes or so, occasionally pulling one out from the shelf and searching through the pages for illustrations.
“Brendon,” Ryan called softly, holding out a book he’d found. Brendon hadn’t realized that Ryan even knew he was standing there so he was a little surprised, but he shouldn’t have been. Even Spencer could usually tell when someone was nearby. Brendon figured the heightened sense of awareness was residual from years where alertness had been a necessity.
“Yes, Ryan?” he asked back just as calmly.
“Does this book have a dragon in it?”
Brendon didn’t expect them to, but as soon as the words reach him, they sent a pang through his heart. Ryan sounded so hopeful; he sounded so young, so innocent.
The book Ryan held out read “The Epic of Cadmus” in gold lettering across its otherwise dark green cover.
Brendon smiled, “You want a dragon book?”
Ryan shrugged, but kept the book held up a little. “When Spencer and I were little, our favourite story was one about a princess and she went missing and so her family tries to find her and one brother has to fight a dragon…” Ryan trailed off.
Brendon walked a few paces over and took the book from Ryan. He pursed his lips a little and opened it to the middle.
“And they built some houses,” Ryan kept on, as if the more he told, the better the chances were that Brendon would recognize the story.
“I don’t know this one,” Brendon said after a second. He flipped to another section and smiled, “But there is a part about a dragon here.” Ryan’s face lit up. It wasn’t like when Brendon smiled, but it was a lot for Ryan.
“Does it eat any travelers?” Ryan asked, craning his neck to look up at Brendon, but Brendon snapped the book closed.
“I don’t know if it eats any delicious travelers, but I bet it will be exciting to find out,” Brendon declared before extending his hand down to Ryan. Ryan took it and Brendon helped him stand back up. “We’ll read it and see. And if it’s not the one you’re thinking of, I’m sure there are plenty more books with dragons in them in this library and we can surely find it.”
Ryan just blinked at him a little and Brendon extended his arm out a bit. “Shall we take this outdoors then, Mr. Ryan?”
Ryan nodded and gently reached out to take Brendon’s arm and allow him to lead the way.
“I found one!” Ryan called out when they were only halfway through the golden field that separated the orchard from the house.
Bogart barked excitedly, but Spencer called out instead, “Did you get Brendon?”
“You think I’d let you two enjoy a day like this without me?” Brendon called back, spreading his arms out and enjoying the gentle breeze. The summer was coming to an end, but the days were still long and warm and for much of the time that Brendon had been back with them in Ashbourne, the three of them had spent time out in the fields or in the orchard or even by the river as opposed to spending it cooped up inside. Spencer and Ryan had lived enough of their lives inside and, with such balmy weather, it was hard to give up the freedoms of the outdoors now that they’d gotten them.
“It doesn’t have any pictures so I’m not exactly sure,” Ryan told Spencer once he reached him. “Something about it just looked familiar and Brendon said it did have a dragon in it so we can always hope it‘s the right one.” Ryan settled himself down on the blanket next to Spencer and reached for the tea pitcher they‘d brought out with them earlier.
“Are you going to help me read it, Ryan?” Brendon asked as he settled down next to them. Ryan swallowed and looked wide-eyed at Brendon.
“I uh,” Ryan began and then looked at Spencer for a bit. He’d never read in front of Spencer, only in front of Brendon and usually when Spencer was taking a nap or spending time with his family. Ryan was still fairly new to reading and Brendon should know he wasn’t ready to read anything of this measure, but when he looked at Brendon, Brendon looked expectant and when he looked at Spencer, Spencer looked excited. “Maybe a little,” he decided.
“You start it,” Spencer encouraged. “I want to hear what you‘ve learned.”
Ryan placed the book in his crossed-legs and opened it to the first chapter. The page looked a little daunting with all of its words and no illustrations besides a fancy versal letter beginning the first paragraph. Ryan reached out with his hands on both sides and soon, one of his hands was on the knee of both Spencer and Brendon.
That was new too. Ryan and Spencer had begun initiating contact with Brendon that he was sure they didn’t do with other people. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it yet, but it wasn’t negatively, he was positive of that.
Added: Ryan pulled his hands back just a second later and held the book with his fingertips pressed to the edges to keep the pages from fluttering in the breeze. He took a deep breath. Spencer reached over and placed his hand on the small of Ryan’s back and Brendon placed his on Ryan’s knee in case Ryan should need a little extra moral support.
Ryan began decently. Occasionally, he paused and softly sounded out a word or had to ask Brendon for help, but for the most part, he did well. He read about a lovely cliff by the edge of the sea where there were beautiful children playing and vibrant wildflowers growing everywhere. He read about a princess with golden hair and rosy cheeks and her brothers who chased after butterflies.
Ryan handed the book to Brendon when he reached a good stopping point.
“I like it when you read,” Spencer told Ryan pulling him closer. “You read all the descriptions and it’s like I can see it. I see where you’re talking about, imagined in the same way you have to.”
Brendon began the next part and Ryan rested his head against Spencer’s shoulder and closed his eyes.
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