"When did I have the chance to explain it?" Edmar shot back at his father, becoming indignant. "You never listen to me, or take my ideas, and you've been unconscious for over a week! Was I to consult your silent form for instructions? Explain to you my reasoning as you lay there? I did what I had to! I took charge, kept the men alive as best I could, and brought home a bounty of wealth a king could be proud of!"
He pulled out a small stack of papers from his shirt pocket and tossed them onto the bed between his father and mother. Raising his hand in a gesture of indignant futility, he continued his rant.
"An inventory of all that was caught and gathered there to benefit our people. Medicines, materials, food, and all manner of useful things. Wealth, for us. I know my contributions here aren't what you think they should be, Father, but I have my uses."
Without waiting for further comment, Edmar stood and stormed out of the room, leaving everyone else in stunned silence.
Caspian had no idea his brother harbored those sorts of feelings toward their parents. The man had been the older, taller, stronger, perfect brother for most of their lives.
"Don't say it," Haf sighed at Cora. Her answering smile was a sad one.
"He craves your approval," She put her hand on his arm gently.
"And I give it, when he does something to approve of," Haf grumbled. "But the man doesn't listen well, and always wants to do what he thinks is best."
"I wonder where those traits come from," Cora pondered aloud, but gathered the papers Edmar had scattered and arranged them on the bedside table for Haf to peruse at his convenience. "At least we know now all that happened."
"Do we?" Caspian hated to be the voice of doubt against his older brother, but felt he had to speak. "Ishmael was convinced that the oil Father slipped on had been placed there intentionally."
"He was a paranoid man by nature," Haf sighed. "It made him a good assistant to never trust most people to do anything without seeing to it himself. I wish he were still with us so we could speak to him directly."
"Let us put the matter to rest," said Cora anxiously, "I had been wondering why Edmar's behavior had changed of late, and now we know why. He did not feel he had been listened to, which I cannot say is an unfair impression for him to have."
"But shouldn't we consider–" Caspian was cut off.
"Do you have any concrete reason to believe ill of your brother, other than what we have already heard?" Cora asked, a little sharply. The guilt for having thought badly of her older son was obviously a tender point.
"He was so secretive about it. I asked many times while in the other world, and he gave no hint as to anything he just revealed today. He seemed happy to be in charge instead of concerned about Father." The younger man felt the conversation was getting away from him, but he wasn't sure what else to do.
"A leader must project confidence," Haf said tiredly. "It would not have done for him to constantly act worried about me in front of the men. Are you sure your views were not colored by some resentment at the way he took charge, instead of you?"
The question was sincere, and not accusatory, so Caspian answered it calmly. To take offense would be to lend credence to the thought that he was jealous of his older brother. He wasn't.
"I'm sure."
"There is no action needed at this time, I think," Haf said. "It seems I will yet live a while longer. We will watch Edmar and guide him into being a better leader. Of course we trust that you will act impartially and bring us information you feel is important, but I hope you love your brother and will treat him accordingly."
Caspian sighed and nodded, knowing this was the best he could get from his parents today. After all, Haf had just woken from a very long, unnatural sleep, and would take time to heal. Not everything had to be done at once.
He knew his parents' discussion on the topic was likely to continue outside of his hearing, and left them to it.
Leaving his parents' hut, he went to complete the chores necessary around his own home. His life was now much as it had been before; he did all the work himself, alone. Except now, he had to take care of Naomi until she was better.
She didn't try to do too much, but clearly she chafed at her inability to be as useful as she would like. As Caspian walked, he saw Edmar pausing to talk to one of the Rhone girls. He couldn't tell through the veil, but he thought it might be the same one that had healed Father.
It was unlike Ed to be grateful. Maybe he was turning a corner for the better.
Arriving back, he observed with a frown that the garden Naomi had tended had grown weeds again. Quickly, he pulled the new ones, and retrieved water to nourish the thirsty plants. He would hate for her hard work to come to naught just because she was unable to tend it for a while.
_____
"Where are you going now?" Peter jogged to catch up with Mayra, who had stormed out of the hut.
"That blasted girl has gone missing," Mayra muttered at him.
"Which one? Brenna?" He asked.
"The same. She was supposed to stay put while I went out and found her somewhere new to stay."
"Maybe we should send her back?" Peter didn't like the whole concept of this girl, though he didn't know why. She seemed like trouble. Mayra sighed.
"She did seem to have a hand in healing the Commodore. In view of that, it might not improve our relations with the Cetoans to make that call. I'm a mediator, not a decision-maker, really."
"While that's true, I hate to see your time wasted on one girl when there are over 100 others needing husbands." Peter looked around to see if he could spot the wayward girl.
"Ninety-four. Several have already accepted proposals and will be married tonight in a joint ceremony." Mayra chewed the inside of her cheek. She hoped they knew what they were doing, but she had no grounds to stop it.
The grooms had all passed her preliminary inspections for being relatively eligible. None seemed from the few moments that she talked to each of them to be either elderly or unreasonable. Beyond that, she knew little of each of them except that they had been confirmed by the Cetoans as not already married.
She had passed the word that if anyone had objections to an announced marriage, they should let her know as soon as possible. Hopefully that system would hold, despite the relative chaos of so many couples finding each other in so short a time.
"Maybe we should switch over to having one large ceremony once a week. That would give a little more time to get things done, and keep it a little less chaotic." She murmured to herself.
"But weddings are such fun!" Peter teased.
"They are, but they're more fun when I have confidence that the people are correctly matched," Mayra's brow furrowed. The most enjoyable wedding she'd attended had been her brother's.
Ashley and Riley had joined in an elaborate ceremony thrown by Dierdre, with no expense spared. There had been the best music, fantastic food, and marvelous decorations. Mayra had her portion of being involved in the planning process and had been a bridesmaid for Ashley.
She sighed, happy at the memory. She still had the beautiful dress that had been made especially for the occasion.
"Planning your own wedding now? I hear that's something women do when their minds wander," Peter nudged her as they continued walking.
"Decidedly not," Mayra eyed him. "I haven't given the idea any thought at all."
That wasn't entirely true. She had many ideas for her own wedding, especially after seeing how amazing Ashley's plans had turned out. Unfortunately, she still balked at the idea that anyone in his right mind would want to tie himself to her forever.
"That can't be true. You've thought of everything. Every possible contingency for every possible scenario runs through your brain. It's how you're so quick-witted; you've already thought it all out before. At least, that's how I imagine your mind works," Peter replied.
"Interesting theory. Too bad you'll never be able to prove or disprove it," Mayra smirked.
"Oh, I have my ways." He took on a superior look, "but for now, I think I've found your wayward ward," Peter nodded ahead of them.
"Brenna!" Mayra called out in irritation as she jogged up to the woman, who seemed to be casually chatting with Edmar. "Where have you been?"
Where have you been? Have you been behaving lately? Don't think you'll get away with it, Reader.