Prince on the Run

by Guy Antibes

  “How do I look?” Boxster said.

  “I would have liked to have said like a prince, but you chose plain clothes.”

  “Only because they fit. You did the same.”

  “Enough to look like a castle servant, but not a prince,” Trevor said. “Let’s find Win and Brother Yvan.”

  They left Trevor’s chambers and slipped down the stairs from his tower. They heard the sounds of fighting as they reached the bottom.

  “Try not to kill,” Trevor said. He felt tremendous guilt fighting men that had, at one time, sworn to protect him.

  The conflict reached them, and Trevor found himself fighting loyalists, much to his displeasure at having to fight at all. They made their way through the castle to the family dining room Trevor had been to many times.

  The door opened, and the officer that opened the door looked like the one who was with Win. Four guards emerged from the room and stood with swords drawn.

  The officer quickly walked down the corridor. Trevor didn’t waste any time and ran his lance through one of the men and began to fight with the other. Boxster threw his lance like a spear and hit the throat of one of his guards. The fighting was over in seconds. Trevor opened the door and stopped.

  Bering stood over Brother Yvan with a knife in his hand. The cleric was bound to the chair, unable to move. Bering turned.

  “I said I wasn’t to be disturbed!” the crown prince said. He almost dropped his knife as he stared at Trevor.

  “Trevor?”

  “Put your knives down,” Boxster said.

  “You’ll have to kill me first,” Owen said. He had already begun to do some carving on Win. The boy bled from each shoulder and from a slice to his chest.

  “Gladly.” Boxster advanced, using his wrist to twist the saber back and forth.

  The knife clattered to the floor. Owen backed into the wall. Boxster stooped to pick up the knife and cut Win’s bonds.

  Win removed his gag. “They caught us two days on the way to the monastery.”

  “What monastery?” Bering asked.

  “Would I tell you?” Win said with a great deal of unexpected venom.

  “You will, or sweet Brother Yvan will see Dryden in a moment or two.”

  “You wouldn’t dare kill a Dryden cleric,” Trevor said.

  “I would dare to do a lot of things for a kingdom, Brother,” Bering said. He snapped his head toward Win. “Which monastery?”

  “It is in the northwest mountains,” Win said, giving in.

  “More,” Bering said.

  His command was interrupted by the sounds of fighting.

  “You must protect Owen and me, Brother,” Bering said as he looked at Yvan.

  Suddenly, Bering’s eyes grew wide as he clutched the knife in his chest. He turned to Boxster. “You,” he said as the life left his eyes.

  Owen made a move to escape. “Be my guest,” Trevor said. “Without a weapon, you won’t last a heartbeat outside that door.

  Win had already removed the knife from Bering’s body and cut Brother Yvan’s bonds. He advanced on Owen. “I don’t regret this in the least,” Win said, as he thrust his knife into Owen.

  “That is my brother!” Trevor said.

  “Who was enjoying cutting me up a little too much when you walked in,” Win said.

  Trevor was overcome with emotions he couldn’t understand as he sat down.

  “Why don’t we just stay here for a while,” Brother Yvan said. He walked to the door and peeked out. “There are plenty of weapons out here, if you ignore the bodies, may Dryden bless them.”

  Trevor tossed the dull cavalry saber to the side as he selected an officer’s sword and collected more of the same, returning to the dining room. The weapons clattered when he tossed them on the table. Win found one quickly, but Boxster took a little more time. Brother Yvan was rummaging through the wine cabinet.

  He took out a goblet and poured a glass, taking it all down at once before he took two chairs and shoved them under the latches. “I hope those will hold for a while,” he said, sitting back down and taking a deep breath.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t run to administer to your wound’s, Win, but I’m afraid I must collect my wits.”

  ~

  Three shared bottles of wine later, Trevor rose with a sword in his hand. His head cleared in an instant as someone pounded on the door. The four of them stood staring at the door, waiting for it to be pounded to splinters. They were ready to fight to the end.

  The double doors burst open. Lilith stepped into the room.

  “Somehow, I didn’t think you would die so easily,” she said, looking around the room. “Why don’t you kill me too?” she asked Trevor.

  “I don’t see it as necessary,” Trevor said. “You seem to be an expert at making deals. Let me go with my friends, and you’ll never see me again.”

  “Out of Tarviston or out of Presidon?”

  “Presidon. I have no desire to return. I didn’t want to come back to the castle, but Dryden had a different fate for me.”

  “Good for you to invoke his name,” Brother Yvan said behind Trevor.

  “I don’t want you killed. That is Mother’s doing. Leave now, and I will let you go. She won’t enter the city until King Henry is dead, and that is about to happen this evening. That will give you enough time to get well out of my city.”

  “Wynn and Renny?” Trevor asked.

  “They will never ascend to the Presidonian throne,” Lilith said. She looked around Trevor. “I see you did your part.”

  “Unwillingly,” Trevor said.

  “It was done nevertheless, and those bodies are your payment for the services I am about to render.” Lilith went to the sideboard and pulled out paper and pen. “This is your pass. What names should you choose?”

  “Karn Kissel,” Boxster said.

  Lilith burst into laughter. “I’ve read that book. I thought Karn to be especially sappy.”

  Boxster bowed to Lilith. “I did, as well.”

  “Fenton Denton,” Brother Yvan said.

  “He is my father since my name is Bill Denton.”

  “And Bill is my cousin,” Win said. “Just let me use my real name. I would ask you to keep my mother employed.”

  Lilith nodded. “Good cooks are hard to find. I can manage an extra favor.”

  She signed the document and poured a measure of ink on the table so she could dip the signet ring that once circled King Henry’s finger in the little puddle and pressed it to the document. “Two weeks to leave. After that, your life is forfeit to me. That will hopefully satisfy Mother.”

  Boxster grabbed the document. “Time to go,” he said.

  Trevor wanted to say more, but Boxster grabbed his wrist. “We leave now.”

  They walked down to the castle courtyard, passing a gibbet being prepared. King Henry would be swinging soon. On the other side of the platform were the bodies of Wynn and Renny. Bering and Owen would likely be joining them in minutes. Trevor’s eyes filled with tears as he walked past his siblings’ bodies. He paused, as it was tough for him to take it all in, but Boxster nudged him, and they walked out of the castle.

  Tarviston was a mess. Looters roamed the streets. The four picked up horses and a packhorse from the animals wandering around without riders.

  “We must hurry,” Brother Yvan said.

  They mounted their horses and reached the northwest gate in minutes as they rode with their swords bare to ward off any rioters. Trevor recognized two of the soldiers standing guard as draftees.

  “Your uniforms are off,” the soldier said.

  “Our mission was accomplished, wouldn’t you say?” Boxster said.

  “But what about your pay?”

  “I don’t care about it. I’ve made enough killing. We got to the castle and have been hired to escort these two loyalists out of the city.”

  “How do I know you aren’t deserting?”

  “Do you care?”

  One of the regular soldier
s walked up. “I do. As far as I’m concerned, three of you can rejoin the Ginster army.”

  “I am Ginsterian,” Brother Yvan said. “I have procured these men to protect me as we travel to Karton county.”

  Trevor hadn’t heard of Karton county, but the soldier had.

  “Do you have papers?”

  Brother Yvan smiled. “We do. The queen’s daughter signed them.”

  “Lilith of Dorwick?”

  “I am glad you know her name.” He unfolded their contract with Lilith so that her signature was the only thing showing. “We have safe passage.”

  The Ginsterian soldier pursed his lips.

  “It looks official to me,” one of the draftees said, looking over the Ginsterian’s shoulder.

  The line to get out was growing, and a few of those waiting began to complain. Few people wanted to stick around in a lawless city. The Ginsterian looked back at the line.

  “Go on. I suppose this is valid.”

  “Oh, it is. We performed a necessary service for her today.”

  “I don’t know what a local would do, but that has got to be her stamp. Get going before I change my mind.”

  The guards parted, and Trevor and his group didn’t hesitate to move on out. Evacuees filled the roads when they first left Tarviston, but as they proceeded toward the mountain monastery, travelers thinned out. Brother Yvan turned into the stable yard of an inn at the end of the second day of hard riding.

  “We were captured here. I don’t think we’ve been gone long enough for the innkeeper to take possession of my things,” Brother Yvan said.

  When they stepped inside, the innkeeper’s mouth dropped open. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

  “My possessions are still intact?”

  “They are, and so are the boy’s.” The innkeeper nodded to Win and looked from Trevor to Boxster. “I see you recruited some muscle. Were they enough? I suppose they had to be.”

  “Our circumstances were exciting. This boy took the brunt,” Yvan nodded to Win, who still had his bloody clothes on.

  “I already paid for my rooms when soldiers so rudely captured me, but as you can see, I am back.”

  “I’ll honor your payment since my inn is almost empty.”

  “It should fill up tomorrow. We passed many on the road.”

  The innkeeper nodded. “Then tomorrow night, if you are still here, won’t be free.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  ~

  T he night air turned chilly when they turned down the track to the mountain monastery.

  “This has a totally different feel,” Trevor said.

  “That is what people living in a monastery do to the place. There won’t be more than ten, but even the four of us made the place more habitable,” Yvan said.

  The monks welcomed them in. Nine men greeted them in the refectory. It had seemed like it was such a lonely place when they had used it, Trevor thought, but it felt more welcoming now.

  “Been watching the mushrooms?” Brother Yvan asked.

  The monk introduced as the prior nodded. “We have two experts amongst us, and they do all the picking,” he said. “Let us go into the next room and chat. I’d like to know why your return was delayed. We expected you a few days ago.”

  “The royal family of Arcwin is no more,” Brother Yvan said. “Lilith, daughter of the queen and a high-ranking Dorwickian noble—”

  “I know who Lilith is,” the prior said. “Does she rule or her mother?”

  “Mother for now, but I don’t expect that to last any longer than it takes Tarviston to settle down. We passed the noose that has probably caused King Henry’s death on our way out of the castle.”

  “You were in the castle?”

  Yvan nodded and handed over the pass. “The royal family is dead.”

  “The prince, who was the soldier, returned?”

  Brother Yvan nodded. “Burned to a crisp on the road to Dorwick. Trevor tried to talk his mother out of rebelling, but she thought it better to cut all ties to King Henry.”

  “Signed by Lilith, herself. Well, you were the spiritual advisor to the royal family,” the prior said. “It says here that you are banished as are your three friends.”

  “We are traveling under assumed names. I am Fenton Denton.”

  “I didn’t think that was real. Well, we have almost finished our dinner, but we can warm up enough to fill your stomachs tonight. I am guessing you won’t stay here past morning?”

  Brother Yvan nodded. “The queen would not have been as charitable as her daughter, so there might be people after us.”

  “You are in luck. We found a trail that should take you to a village that is not directly on the way to Ginster.”

  “To Viksar?” Trevor asked.

  “To Viksar. If you wish to flee there, I would suggest taking it. It is overgrown as far as we got, so you will have to walk your horses,” the prior said.

  “Walking is something I do every day,” Yvan said.

  “I’ll have one of our monks take you to the trailhead after breakfast. Let us return to the refectory and get some food in your stomachs. Mind your tongues, all of you. It’s not that I don’t trust all of my monks, but I don’t. Most have only been here for a few days.”

  Trevor had to keep from joining in on the conversation about other monasteries since most of the monks stayed to talk after their dinner. Still, the monks were, by and large, genial men who probably would enjoy the valley as much as their devotions to Dryden.

  In the morning, after a large breakfast, the prior thrust three large bags of provisions at them.

  “This looks like a week’s worth of food,” Yvan said.

  “It takes two days to get to Bumblebee Ford. The place will be on your map. From then on, it is another two days to the border with Viksar.”

  The guiding monk rode with Win as they crossed the valley.

  “Here,” the monk said, jumping off the back of the horse. "Through there. I’ve never been all the way using this trail, but I’m sure you’ll be in Bumblebee Ford before you know it.”

  “I suppose you’ve been there?” Brother Yvan said.

  “Me?” the young monk shook his head. “I’ve been there once, but before I became a monk. We found the trail on an old map, and that helped us discover the trailhead. When I visited Bumblebee Ford before, I found it a fun place. You should too.”

  Trevor heard traces of regret in the youth’s voice.

  “But Dryden called, and here I am. I couldn’t ignore my god.”

  “You did the right thing,” Brother Yvan said.

  “I’d better get going. Good luck!” the young monk said as he started walking back to the monastery. He turned and waved before the four travelers took a trail that might not even get them to where they wanted to be.

  They didn’t go far before the trail became overgrown. Trevor and Win took out swords and began hacking their way through the underbrush and removed fallen trees and other debris. After a mile or two of slow, grueling work, the trail exited on a vast meadow. The path could still be seen in the soft turf, and they made better time until they came to the washed-out creek on the far side.

  “We will have to go upstream or downstream to find a place to cross,” Boxster said.

  “Why don’t we do both?” Win said. “Brother Yvan and I can take the packhorse. We meet back here before an hour has passed?”

  “Sounds reasonable to me,” Boxster said. He looked at Trevor. “Prince Arcwin the Last, let’s find a ford before the others.”

  Boxster and Trevor headed southwest since the creek headed out of the mountains. They traveled for about twenty minutes and couldn’t find a way across the stream for the horses on the meadow. They headed into the forest and eventually stopped at a cliff and watched the creek turn into a waterfall that fell a hundred feet or so. The cliff extended to their right and left. The top of the forest was lower as far as they could see.

  “We won’t win the prize for the best f
ord to cross,” Boxster said as he mounted his horse after gazing at the landscape. When they were retracing their way back to the meadow, Boxster narrowed his eyes as if he were contemplating something. “Remember our conversation about my amulet?”

  “And your true identity?”

  “And that too. If something happens to me, eventually find your way to Brachia. Do you remember where to go?”

  “The Black Swan in Bassington and ask for the owner, who should be the former owner’s son.”

  Boxster gave Trevor a sad smile. “You do remember. You don’t have to go there immediately after my demise, but I wouldn’t wait too many years before you redeem this. I want you to have what this amulet will provide.”

  “I promise, again,” Trevor said.

  Boxster’s facade broke down again. The enduring competence crumbled before Trevor’s eyes and was built up again as they proceeded. Boxster was back to his usual self when they entered the meadow.

  Win rode along the edge of the forest. “Brigands! They have taken Brother Yvan. I was able to escape, but he held onto the packhorse and wouldn’t let go.”

  “Lead on,” Trevor said.

  They galloped, churning up the turf in huge clods, past their meeting spot and on toward the other end of the meadow. Win stopped when a cabin came into sight with a thin trail of smoke climbing up into a windless sky.

  “How many?” Boxster asked.

  “Five, I think.”

  “Let’s see if they will listen to reason. The robbers might have no cause to be worried about the three of us,” Boxster said.

  They approached the cabin. One man walked out.

  “How are you this fine day?” Boxster said.

  “Cut the chatter. What will you give us to let your friend free?”

  “It seems you have our packhorse and our supplies. Isn’t that enough?” Boxster asked.

  “I don’t think so,” the brigand said.

  “Is Fenton even alive?”

  “Bring him out!” the brigand said.

  Two men dragged Brother Yvan out. His face showed that the brigands had had some fun with him.