The Reincarnated Prince

by Danny Macks

  “Good for him!” Thesscore’s smile became a grin and he slapped Lauren on the shoulder.

  “I’m doubling his fee. Call it wergild.”

  The smiles and laughter vanished.

  “Your pay's already ten times a reasonable price. Surely, a little roughhousing …”

  “No,” Lauren interrupted.

  The two men stared at each other and the crowd shifted nervously.

  “I’m not going to pay it.”

  “Then I’m keeping your son.”

  Thesscore’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “You keep my son from me and you'll never see another drop of silver from my coffers for as long as you live.”

  “Done,” Lauren replied instantly and held out his hand. Thesscore stared at the open palm.

  Lord Ravnos, the one man dressed in somber colors of the entire group, spoke up. “What exactly are you offering, Guild Lord Libros?”

  “In lieu of wergild for my injured man, I raise Chad as my own, see to his upkeep and education, life and death, and Baron Thesscore gives up all rights to the boy.”

  “Only a single man would even think of something like this, Libros, let alone call it fair,” Lord Ravnos pronounced. “Wulf, let's ask the king to adjudicate wergild.”

  Baron Thesscore counted on his fingers, adding up silver Chad guessed, then sighed. “I have more sons, and stronger.” He clapped Chad on the shoulder. “Congratulations, boy. You've just been adopted.”

  Chad had no illusions that his father considered his children a commodity as much as a horse or bag of grain. But there was a huge gap between knowing something could happen intellectually and seeing it happen.

  He was still standing stunned when Lauren said, “Resume your place on the list, Chad,” and marched away.

  “Guild Lord Libros,” Lord Ravnos said into the uncomfortable silence. “Why did Chad strike your man?”

  “Chad lost a battle of wits,” Lauren replied over his shoulder.

  “You. With me,” Ravnos ordered Chad as he chased after Lauren, his black robe flapping.

  Lauren didn’t stop until Ravnos grabbed his sleeve, just short of the main doors to the inner keep.

  “What was that about? You do not yank a young gloom away from his own father. You know where that can lead. You owe Chad -- and me -- an explanation.”

  “I forgot you have friends at the College and no doubt heard details of Chad’s test. Very well. King Oberon put all his hope on young Pious, but I've seen no signs that he will survive the coronation. Tomorrow is Chad’s sixteenth birthday. He’s an eclipse child, born on the first day of fall. You think Chad will grow to take your place at Thesscore’s side. I think he's destined for greater.”

  Both Lord Ravnos and Chad stopped in their tracks, stunned. Chad, king?

  “Chad, stop gaping like a fish and get back on the list field,” Lauren said. "You aren't the only boy I need to help today." He turned a corner inside the inner keep and stepped out of sight.

  *****

  Jeb woke on the library floor with a man leaning over him. Bleary and confused, Jeb yanked the man’s dagger out of his belt and stabbed. The dagger hit cloth-covered brigandine armor.

  “I’m trying to help you, dammit,” the stranger yelled as he grabbed Jeb’s wrist.

  “I’m fine,” Jeb lied. His face hurt and his vision was blurred in one eye.

  “Of course you are,” the stranger replied sarcastically as he put his dagger back in its sheath. He scooted back, giving Jeb some room, then ran his fingers through his long dirty-blonde hair. “Who struck you, milady?”

  “I’m not a girl,” Jeb growled, both angry and mortified. He grabbed a chair and pulled himself, swaying like a drunk, to his feet. “You don’t know me.”

  The blonde man scratched his short-cut beard, a few shades darker than the hair on top his head, with a sceptical expression on his face. “Very well. Sir."

  Jeb found a semblance of balance, but remained wary, ready to bolt. This whole trip had been a stupid, stupid idea.

  "My name's Master Hesser. I’m a chirurgeon. You've taken a rather nasty blow to the face. The cheekbone isn't broken, but it might not feel like it tomorrow. And you are?”

  “You can tell the lordling you salved his conscience for him. I’m nobody. A shade.” Jeb stumbled quickly out of the library and slammed the door behind him. At the boom, he heard footsteps on the stair at the end of the hall break into a run.

  He was trapped! Jeb yanked aside a tapestry and pressed a stone high on the wall. A crack opened in the wall and he slipped into a small closet-like room behind the tapestry.

  Outside the thin false wall, he heard the library door open, and footsteps rush out, followed by a pause. “How? … ” Then the speaker ran the length of the hall toward the stair and out of hearing.

  Only then did Jeb pause to wonder how he'd known about the secret door. The whole scene had been like something out of a dream. As a matter of fact, it was exactly like a dream. In the dream, there had been a staircase. Jeb felt along the wall of the small room in the darkness. Everything was covered in dust as if no one had been here in twelfty years or more. He gasped when his hand met air and his foot hit a stone step.

  At the top of the pitch black stair was another room and a glimmer of light: a tiny spyhole. After verifying no one was in the room, Jeb lifted the bar that blocked the door and stepped into an armory. Suits of armor and weaponry lined the walls, all of it of the highest quality and bearing the golden sun symbol of the king.

  He was fairly certain that simply being here was punishable by death. If he wasn't in trouble before, he was now. He didn't need to see a shade to know one was seeking out the king to report an intruder.

  Now what? Escape, obviously. But how? He was certainly on the seventh floor, between the king's bedrooms and the second floor of the library. The King's Armory was one of the few rooms of the castle without a window or even an arrow slit. Everyone he had to get past, even the squires, were armed today. He didn't trust stealth and his dreams to get him out of this unbloodied. And people attacking required armor.

  Digging through chests he found a few pieces of equipment that were closer to his size and old enough that they would likely not be missed: a quilted blue-grey jacket, a dark colored brigandine that should stop an arrow if the shooter wasn't too close and an antique bascinet helmet with a tattered black velvet cover, grey with age, and a chain drape. He cinched the loose equipment down with the plainest sword belt he could find then turned to head back the way he came.

  Nimbus floated up through the floor and Jeb sighed with relief.

  How do I get out of here? Jeb signed silently.

  You are injured. I should fetch a chirurgeon.

  No! Jeb signed emphatically. I need to escape! Lords don't believe in accidents and my parents were killed for a lot less than sneaking into the king's armory.

  Nimbus looked Jeb up and down. With all the visiting squires, you could be mistaken for a guard. Let the two people searching for you grow frustrated and give up, then leave with the crowd heading into town this evening. If you want to pass for a soldier, you will need a sword.

  Most of the swords in the room were heavily gilt in gold from scabbard to pommel, but one exception hung on the wall with no scabbard just below a shelf holding the king’s crown. It was double-edged, two score inches long with a quarter of that length taken up by a crossguard, handle and disk-shaped pommel. Black powder fell off the handle when Jeb grabbed it and the rest of the blade was coated with the stuff too. He slid the blade in his sword scabbard, surprised that it fit, hoped the long handle didn't look too odd and dusted off his hands. What is this stuff?

  Dead dust mites. Lock the door behind you, head back downstairs into the secret room below and try to get some sleep. I will scout out a safe path and come for you in a few hours.

  *****

  Chad couldn't really be king, could he? It was true succession followed the royal soul, not bloodlines, and Chad was the r
ight age, but so were lots of other boys. Would that make King Oberon his adopted father instead of Lauren? His thoughts were still whirling in stunned confusion when he received a summons, along with Lauren, to see the king.

  “It may be best for you to wait just inside the door,” Lauren said to Chad just outside the throne room’s double doors. “Seeing the throne for the first time can intimidate some people.”

  Chad scoffed. “I’ll be fine.”

  He had heard description of the throne room, of course, but the actual room was twice or three times bigger than he expected. Twin rows of marble columns split the cavernous throne room into thirds and a single strip of carpet, blue so dark that it was almost purple, ran up the center section of marble floor to face the Dragon Throne. Lauren walked up that carpet with easy familiarity while Chad decided to follow his teacher’s advice and hung back by the main door.

  Although small lamps littered the outer walls and columns, the room was too large to illuminate fully, even in the daytime and the bulk of the light in the room came from stained glass windows that ran just below the arched ceiling on both sides of the long room. Atop stairs that ran across the width of the room, the gold and silver encrusted two-headed dragon sculpture that made up the throne itself was also larger than Chad expected and both sets of eyes seemed to follow Lauren as he approached.

  At a day shy of seventy-six years old, the king was dwarfed by the Dragon Throne and Chad saw more robes than man, but Chad knew -- no matter how he failed to look imposing physically -- this was the man that had sundered the kingdom upon his coronation and put his own council -- including Chad's great-grandfather -- to death with his own hands. Hidden inside those voluminous robes, he might have the body of a kindly grandfather, but the entire kingdom knew otherwise.

  “Lauren, my friend, why is it that every time you decide to be clever, I end up getting a headache?” the king said with half a smile, then looked past Lauren to Chad. “Come on in out of the doorway, lad. Let me see what all the fuss is about.”

  Chad walked into the large room, until he was half a step behind his teacher, and bowed.

  The king hmmed softly and looked Chad over like a buyer inspecting a horse. Chad expected to be told to show his teeth next.

  “So what's the real game you're playing?” The king said, turning his attention back to Lauren. “Thesscore asked for the return of the lad’s armor, weapons, and even clothes until Lord Ravnos stepped in and stopped him. Now the rumor is going around that the lad’s the next Pious. Should I put both boys to the test?”

  King Oberon fingered the jeweled sword clutched pommel up in the space built for it in the throne’s claw and Chad smiled at the lie. He had seen the real King's Sword, in all of its plain, terrible power.

  “That won’t be necessary, your majesty. I may have hinted that Chad had an immanent soul, but I believe he is the Winter Champion, not the Winter King. He needs training, as your Champion, my father, once trained me.” Both men shared a sad smile at the memory of Lord Erroll and his death at Midnight's hooves.

  “Wouldn’t it be better for both you and his father to train him together?”

  Lauren shook his head. “As of earlier today, I’m his father, your majesty. I’ll gladly duel Thesscore if he gets it in his head to change his mind.” Lauren took a deep shuddering breath, as if the Rage Song was already dancing at the edge of his mind, then added after he calmed, “Thesscore and I have strongly differing opinions on military ethics. Chad needs one teacher, not two.”

  “So be it,” King Oberon said with a nod. “I’ll publicly approve your adoption of him and have the boy tested as Champion when you think he's ready.

  “On to the other reason I called you here." The king glanced toward an empty chair an the edge of the dias where Lord Erroll used to sit. "While you were away from the capital there have been nimbi and shade sightings. Hardly a single group sighting in sixteen years and suddenly every black colt birthed in the last month from Ravnos to Bauren has been visited by one or two of the buggers. Baron Thesscore even claims to have seen the Grey near a particularly fine specimen in his lands."

  “I think the Grey is trying to cover up the real birth,” the king added after a thoughtful pause. “Acquire the oldest stallion and ignore the rest. If we get the wrong one, let the bastard horse go hang for a generation. Let him pull a farmer’s cart for the next sixteen years until he dies of old age.”

  Lauren nodded. “Traditionally, the Winter King is known for his way with horses, it is the one trait that has never changed with every reincarnation.”

  “Good. That was my thinking as well. I've already instructed Lord Equus to give the candidates at least four months to be weaned and the excitement to die down. I'll let him know when to round them up, and let Pious decide. He should recognize Midnight when he sees him and no lord will contest it.”

  *****

  Jeb dreamed he was fighting a war. Brigands had banded together to form armies and were raiding towns and cities for food, from people who were already near to starving. All of the soldiers under Jeb’s command were fighting to stay warm, and most didn’t have the warm fur cloaks of Jeb’s closest men. He was discussing the weather with his lords when an icy shiver bit into his leg. He tried to ignore it for his men’s sake, but the cold jabbed him again.

  Jeb woke and rubbed his leg. Although his leg was cold inside, it felt warm to his hands. He nodded to Nimbus and stretched quickly. “What next?”

  Are you certain you want to leave? I can talk to the king for you.

  “They don't see the way you do. To them, I’m a peasant that broke into the king’s armory. If they find me, I’ll be killed.”

  I could speak at the trial.

  “There won’t be a trial. I’ll be killed, instantly, by the first lord I meet.”

  If you insist. Get to the main door of the inner keep as quickly as possible. Some friends will create a distraction that will get you across the lawn to the outer gate. Join the crowd and keep your helmet on. Your bruised face is purpling.

  *****

  The king wanted Chad to meet Pious to see how the pair interacted. He led Lauren, Chad and several other members of the king’s staff to where Pious and several other children his age were playing tag on the bailey lawn. Adults reached for children to stop the game at the king’s approach, but he yelled “Play!” and gestured for them to continue.

  Chad wasn't sure what to do. He was almost sixteen and the kid was nine. Other parents weren't so hesitant. As servants brought the king a chair, they sent their own older children in to join. The game quickly grew too fast and too rough for most of the little children and they left to find better things to do. Soon Pious was the smallest child on the field, running about with no child willing to tag him.

  Abruptly, two nimbi rose through the ground, shining brightly in the dusk, on either side of Pious. Children scattered, howling with more surprise than pain at the chilling touch when the nimbi brushed them. Although just as surprised, Chad charged forward. The nimbi couldn't hurt a human, but Pious -- between the two brightly glowing forms -- wouldn’t know that. One nimbus moved to block Chad’s charge, but he just ran through it.

  Once past the nimbus, Chad dropped to one knee and Pious wrapped his arms around Chad’s neck. He lifted Pious up and turned back toward the king. The nimbi moved out of his way, but a third ethereal rose from the ground. Where the nimbi were bright as daylight, this ethereal had a soft greyish glow that would have been invisible if the sun hadn't recently set. The Grey bowed to Pious and Chad, then turned to King Oberon and bowed again.

  “Please …” Pious said softly into Chad’s shoulder before letting out a small sob.

  “Please what?” Chad asked, turning his attention to the boy in his arms with a comforting hug.

  “Midnight saved me. Please don’t kill them too.”

  *****

  Jeb didn't see what the bright lights were on the far side of the crowd covering his escape. As attentive as the
guards had been when people were entering the castle, Jeb barely rated a glance upon exiting. His sword hung at an odd angle in the scabbard, but Jeb kept a hand on the pommel. Better to not draw attention to himself by bumping into anyone.

  Soon, he was out of the castle and could breathe a sigh of relief. The armor he stole was ancient and should not be missed by anyone. The sword was stored in a more obvious place but he was sure he could find some way to anonymously deliver it back to the castle. As poorly cared for as it was, covered in black stuff, it likely wasn't important to anyone.

  Chapter Five – Needs of a Siege

  When Jeb's parents died during the peasant's revolt when he was six, he had become obsessed with the idea of surviving a siege for thirty years. He climbed the cliff that ran between the western outer wall of the castle and the ocean, found a small hole in the cliffside, and expanded it into a little hovel.

  Climbing down that same cliff, in the dark, ten years later, with a swollen face and a sword at his side, was harder than he remembered.

  Jeb wasn't surprised to find that his childhood supplies from nine years ago were long since plundered, but the little hole in the cliff side was dry, hard to find, and at least temporarily safe. In the intervening years, some type of bramble had even grown over the entrance. Pushing aside the bramble with the quilted sleeve of his gambeson, he wiggled inside the tiny cave, then took off his helmet, pulled his borrowed sword from its sheath and placed it next to his head where he could quickly grab it, and fell to sleep.

  *****

  The royal library after dark contained a hidden, ancient quality quite different than the bustling center of activity Chad had seen by light of day. Expecting the room to be empty in the middle of the night, Chad was surprised to see Lauren with several books spread out at his usual place in the center of the tables. A single yawning apprentice awaited the guildmaster's needs.