Author: Sam

Story: The Butterfly Effect: 3 of 7

Series: One Little Change

Characters Intro'd: none

As Caspian looked at the small garden, he realized it was very well kept. Whatever work he would be required to do would most likely not be too hard. A slight frown crossed his face and he looked to Tril for guidance, biding his time but quite aware that something didn’t feel right about this situation. Killian and Tril both claimed there was no money to purchase a slave, yet for the reimbursement work he was given a chore that probably was easily handled by one of the inhabitants already.

Tril gestured towards the garden and knelt at its edge, waiting for Caspian to mimic him. Then he leaned forward and carefully placed his hands among the blossoming plants. “You are looking for weeds and pulling them, Lad. This is a weed,” and he demonstrated the differences between what was wanted in the small garden and what was not. “When you’ve determined it is a weed, you must be sure to get the roots as well or it’ll be more work later as they grow back.”

The young King moved his hand towards a likely looking plant and was stunned when he felt the strong grip of the other teen’s fingers over his own. In a low voice, almost unrecognizable, he whispered, “Gumpus gains from the slave trade and so has spies around. If you are come to stop it, Sire, you have picked a poor amount of men to support your position.” Louder he said, in a patient, but well-tried manner, “No, that is a carrot, Lad. You’ll starve us if you pluck that. Let me show you again.”

It had stunned Caspian to hear Tril’s softer words. Had he been recognized by this young man? Was that even possible? He had only been on the throne three years. As softly as Tril before him, Caspian asked, “You know me, Tril?” Likewise, he added, louder, “Forgive me, I fear I need more instruction.”

“We had heard King Miraz was defeated and Narnia once more has a King Caspian on the throne, Sire.” Again, Tril had all but thought the words, his voice was so soft. “Yes, yes, I can see you’ve not tended a garden before. Here, the stems are like so.”

Caspian nodded as if to the instructions, but his voice was still that of a conspirator. “And how is it you know that I am he?”

Green eyes widened slightly as Tril raised his head to give Caspian a quick look. Once more he lowered his eyes and head, whispering back, “Who else travels with a Talking Mouse who is said to have lead a part of the King’s army?” Glancing quickly at Caspian, Tril registered the surprise in his ruler’s eyes and a smile flickered across his face to be replaced once more with that patient, teaching attitude. “Killian is from Archenland, Sire, and knew King Caspian the Ninth before his death. As you and the Mouse are the first slaves he has ever been inclined to buy, it is obvious he is trying to help you.”

“How is buying me and putting me in a garden helping me, Tril?” Caspian could not avoid the slight humour in his voice. To find he was among friends helped his mood greatly.

Finally, Tril sat back on his feet and gestured for Caspian to demonstrate his new skills. With a tilt of his head, the young man practically breathed, “Why, slaves here are often sold to Calormen, Lad. If you wish to travel to those lands, we might arrange to return you for a different slave.”

Recognizing the speech as a warning that they might yet be overheard, Caspian shook his head then winced as his welts scraped his collar once more. “No, I find the Lone Islands more to my taste, if I’ve the choice. Have I got this right?” With that, Caspian gestured to the few weeds he had located and pulled.

Tril’s answer was a simple nod of the head. As the youth rose, however, the shrill voice of Reepicheep suddenly came to them from inside the kitchen windows under which they knelt.

“I do not wish freedom if I cannot take my companion with me, Sir. I would stay with him and work by his side.”

Killian’s voice rose up, loud but not angry. “Then if you wish it, you may work here and your wages will go towards his debt. Is that satisfactory?”

“Yes, but not entirely so. If you would but trust me in saying I can procure the funds to repay you, that you might purchase my other companions, I can heartily guarantee you just recompense.”

“There are more of you?” Tril hissed in surprise.

“Naturally,” Caspian replied in a low voice. “I was with Queen Lucy, King Edmund, and their royal cousin Eustace when Pug came upon us and deceived us with his tricks. We, too, have a ship sailing to the other side of the island and expecting to meet us.”

The young man would make an excellent courtier, Caspian felt. No emotion crossed his face as he puzzled through these new revelations. Finally, he bent close and whispered, “It is not enough, Sire. Pug has more friends and allies in the Lone Islands than the King, I fear. Most of what goes on here is lip-service to your good name and using your title as a way to cow the people. Not Killian,” he hurriedly added. “He is a free Archenlander and a supporter of Narnia. What to do…” and the teen fell silent once more, his brow creased in concentration.

“Perhaps,” Caspian’s words, however, were over-shadowed by Killian’s long-awaited response to Reepicheep’s suggestion.

“Thus far, Sir Mouse, I have paid three hundred crescents for the two of you, when a normal slave price is forty. Do you think I have funds enough to purchase the others as well, even if they were to work for their debt? I would be beggared before they could even start.” Killian sounded troubled, however.

“I tell you, within the day and night you would have your funds replaced, Sir, and our gratitude as well.” Reepicheep’s voice was indignant, and Caspian knew it must be hard for the good Mouse even then to not give away his King’s identity.

Caspian stood. “I need to see Lord Bern, Tril.”

The dark-haired youth stood as well and frowned severely. “I will tell Killian of your request, Lad, but you would be doing an injustice to him for revealing his purchase of a slave.” His voice was normal, and it was quite obvious to the King that their confidences were over for the time being. He wondered which of the four men rounding the far side of the house was the spy Tril feared.

“Now,” Tril continued, “as you are done your gardening for today, you will come into the kitchen and work there so I might keep an eye on you. You might yet be more trouble than Killian thought.”

Silently, with a slight bow of the head to play his un-looked for but current part of a purchased soul, Caspian let Tril guide him into the dwelling and past an intensely excited Reepicheep and a quietly troubled Killian. The large man took advantage of their entrance and turned, one hand raised to signal the Mouse their conversation would have to wait.

“Good, finished the gardening have you? Quick lad. Tril, bandage his neck and put him to the pantry work. We have need to move those wares or we’ll lose another fair share this season.” With that, Killian gave the King a nod, still apparently unaware that Caspian had been let in on their little game against Pug.

For his part, Caspian merely obeyed and let Tril lead him to a side door and into a darkened pantry. He would bide his time as Tril counselled, but he would make sure he arranged safety for his friends and notice for his ship before this night was out.