The False Prince (Fall Of A King Book 1)

by Fuller, James

  They followed Barnaby through the rotting double doors to the mansion, and Shania gasped when they were inside and the doors closed behind her. The interior of the mansion was nothing like the exterior - the outside was a ruse. Inside the walls were flawless, brown painted wood, no cracks, no rot, no aged twists, or bends. The floor, solid wooden planks with dark, but colorful carpeting placed with purpose throughout the rooms to accent the surrounding elegant furniture and wall hangings. Nothing about the inside indicated anything less than what you would expect the riches of a merchant's house to look like. Even the handful of the house's inhabitants that were about were far better dressed than the ruffians outside.

  "I can see by the look on your face that you are surprised by the difference of the house's structure on the inside." Barnaby said, hardly giving her a second glance.

  "Yes," Shania mumbled out, still not sure about the situation in which she had found herself.

  "Well, if the outside looked anywhere near like the inside, the cities governing officials would take less kindly to us ‘common thieves' than they already do. But, we are anything but common, as you can see. We are… quite established," Barnaby explained with a wink stopping in front of a large solid set of double doors. He grabbed both long, polished doorknobs and opened the grand doors into an exquisite sitting area. Marble tables and plush ivory chairs and chesterfields awaited them. "Please sit." He gestured for Shania to sit in one of the chairs as he closed the doors tightly.

  "By the Keeper's third testicle, Keisha, what were you thinking?" He barked out, throwing his arms up in the air and turning a glare on the young thief, who just rolled her eyes. "Do not take me lightly! No, no you do not dare roll your eyes at me! Are you trying to get us caught? Do you know what will happen to us if we are discovered?"

  "What was I to do?" Keisha replied, trying to keep her calm, "she saved my life and needed help."

  Barnaby stared hard at the young thief, his expression of utter disbelief. "And bringing her here was helping her? Has a crane beetle crawled into your ear and made a lunch of the grey matter in there?" Again, he threw his arms up in the air in frustration, turning around and pacing the room overly animated. "Oh yes, let us bring an outsider into a thief compound to help her out. Yes, ‘cause that sounds like a sound idea to me. Not to mention, adding that much more stress and attention on our own problem here!" He rolled out dramatically. "Damn it, Keisha!"

  Shania sat in the plush chair staring hard at the two thieves in complete disbelief. The firm, controlled Barnaby who she had met outside in her fight for Keisha's debt was not the Barnaby who paced around wildly in front of her now. She was truly lost and had no idea what was going on, and that made her nervous. "What is this?" she stuttered out, slowly rising to her feet, her right hand slipping beneath her grubby cloak to find the hilt of her weapon.

  Barnaby and Keisha stopped arguing and looked over to Shania. Barnaby's face twisted up in aggravated perplexity, again throwing his arms high in the air out of the simple need to do something physical. "Damn it all! I forgot about you for a moment." He ran his hands through his long obsidian hair. "Can she be trusted, Keisha?"

  "Of course she can, I would not have brought her here if she could not be."

  "No, you brought her here knowing she could be trusted to believe and keep the secret of a guild of thieves that would help her find her friends," he corrected. "This, well this goes a little further beyond that little secret do you not think!"

  Keisha turned to Shania, who had pulled her blade part way out of its sheath already. "Well, can you be trusted?"

  Shania licked her lips nervously, her eyes darting from one to the other. "I do not know what you mean - I do not know what going on here. You lied to me, Keisha!"

  "No," she stepped forward. "I did not lie - we will help you find your friends. I mean it. I just did not know all this was gonna come out."

  Barnaby sighed and stepped in front of Keisha. "As much as I would rather not get involved in anything else that is going to take up my time and require me to stretch my neck any further out there then I already have it, we will help you, but I require two small things from you, sort of a quid pro quo. First, I need your word you will speak not a word of what you have heard in this room." He looked at Shania and she nodded hesitantly. "Second, it is plain to see by the way you have been hiding your face since you entered this compound that your identity is of some pressing concern to stay concealed. If I am to involve myself in your venture of finding your friends then I require knowledge of who you are and why you feel the need to hide yourself so."

  Shania's heart jumped a beat. If the others saw her face then would have seen the blood drain from it. "I…I cannot - you would not understand. I am different…. You would not accept…. I cannot!"

  "We are all different - at this point I highly doubt your secret of identity outclasses mine, being the head of a highly organized thief guild. Whatever your identity hides, it is safe within these walls," Barnaby told her. "Let us face it, you're among a colony of cutthroats and thieves. We all have wished to hide our identities outside this compound, lest we find ourselves with our necks on the block or in a rope. Not to mention what you know of Keisha and I already is more than enough to jeopardize our plans severely …" Barnaby stopped; a pained look came across his face. "Why am I still telling you things, when I just need to keep my mouth shut?" He rubbed his eyes with his hands. "I do not want to sound cruel, but I need to know who you are and what you're about, and if you refuse…I would have to do something most unfortunate, and I really do not want to have to do that."

  Shania fought with her inner self, knowing she should just run away. Just try to find Ursa and the others on her own. She was crafty and smart, she could do it. No, she knew she would not be able to find them by herself, she would not even know where to begin, and even if she did, it would not take long for someone to glimpse her heritage. She found her hands on the edges of her hood slowly pulling it back until it fell from her head. She kept her eyes closed tightly, not sure of what she should be expecting.

  "Well, you are not disfigured or hideous to look at - actually you are quite beautiful, really. The state of your hair and skin shows you are not from money or power," Barnaby said, his fingers rubbing his smooth chin. "I have not the slightest idea as to why you were so worried about your identity."

  Shania's eyes were wide, "I… I am a savage…" she mumbled.

  "A half breed at best, but I already knew that," he replied, "I could tell your heritage when first I saw you by the skin tone of your hands dear girl. Is that the big secret?" he laughed. "Here I was thinking… well I do not even know what I was thinking. Rest assured if that is the biggest secret you were hiding you have no fear of that here."

  "You do not care?"

  "Of course not, why would I?" Barnaby replied. "You have not done any harm to me, and you have saved my sister's life. Just because you have the misfortune of being born a half-breed, really does not seem like a good enough reason to hate you. I was born a peasant and a con artist - we all have to play with the cards we are dealt."

  Shania sank back into the plush chair, finally feeling more relaxed than she had in the last several hours. "Thank you."

  Barnaby held up his hand, "Do not thank me yet, I have not done anything. Now, tell me about your friends."

  Dahak walked through the rows of tents, his eyes staying in one spot only long enough to read the painted numbers on the outside of each tent. The sun was already fading in the sky and within the hour, all would be dark, aside from the main cooking fires littering the refugee grounds. The first day of training had been how he had remembered from several years before. Hard physical drills repeatedly until you could not do them any more and then short breaks to drink and eat, as well as being questioned on offensive and defensive strategies. He had stood out from the others, almost too well - he had to remind himself on several occasions to slow down and to answer wrong, lest his commander would begin to get suspicious
of him. Still, he had shone out, and had gotten several words of praise from his superiors, words he had wished he would have heard the first time round.

  Finally, he came to the number he had been looking for; he pulled the door flap aside and walked in.

  "Dahak!" Nicolette cried out, being the first to see him.

  He smiled wide, glad to see his friends again. "Are you guys a sight for sore eyes."

  "By the Creator's grace lad, you got us in!" Ursa greeted him with an unusually wide smile.

  "Well, you know you told me to find a way in, so I did." He boosted proudly, "Nothing to it ya know, just had to find a feel for what was going on and the rest just fell into place."

  "Where is Shania?" Zehava asked, his tone boarding fearful.

  The blood in Dahak's face drained, his boyish grin of pride was replaced with fear and guilt. "She should be with you… I told her to come back to the… I left her at the…" He sank down into one of the wooden chairs. "I am an idiot…" he muttered to himself."I left her all alone at the tavern, and expected her to find her way back on her own…"

  Ursa cleared the room and lifted his face up. "Tell us what happened from the beginning."

  Dahak quickly told them everything that happened from the time they left the others to the time he was drafted himself into Dragon's Cove's refugee army. "I am a damn fool - I should have known better than to leave her on her own."

  "She is a smart girl and crafty enough to manage the streets of Dragon's Cove for a while; I have no doubt of that," Ursa stated, hoping to ease his guilt a little. "But there is nothing we can do about that right now - she will have to hold on out there a little longer. Right now we need to get into the castle and find Lord Marcus and Lady Jewel."

  "We…we cannot just leave her out there!" Dahak bellowed. "We have to go and find her."

  "It is unfortunate, but we have not the time for that now." Ursa snapped back, his tone firm and unyielding. "We have a more dire matter at hand to deal with."

  "But we just…" Dahak started, but a sharp look from Ursa silenced him before he went any further.

  "How are we going to get into the castle?" Zehava asked, patting Dahak on the back in reassurance.

  Ursa grinned slightly. "I am not the one who knows how to best answer that." He looked to the Princess and Dahak.

  11

  As the moon reached its apex in the clear, star-littered night sky, five forms darted from shadow to shadow, slowly nearing the back courtyard near the stables. Nicolette had spent the better half of her life in Dragon's Cove and knew the castle grounds well - she also knew the guards changed shift shortly after the moon had risen to the highest point in the night sky, meaning the guards would be tired and unfocused.

  The group moved as fast as they dared through the wagons and supply crates riddling the courtyard. Normally, the grounds around the castle were never this crowded or disorganized, but this was an unusual circumstance and time. It served the group well, - there would have been no way to get this far had it been under normal circumstances. They were careful to watch the guards on the wall and only moved when they knew their attention was elsewhere.

  Three armed soldiers stood around a side entrance near the stable yard talking about something that had their interest peeked and so they paid little heed to anything else.

  "We will need a distraction to get them away from the door and closer to us," Ursa whispered, looking up to see the guard on the wall walk from view and he knew they would only have a few moments for this to work. "Meath, Dahak stumble out past the wagon and pretend to be drunk and fighting."

  "Are you serious?" Dahak demanded, but the stern look from Ursa answered the question.

  Ursa glanced up at the wall again, making sure the guard had not returned early. "Quickly now - get them as close to the wagons as you can!"

  Meath grabbed Dahak and pushed him out into open view of the guards. "You… you… cheating bastard!" he slurred out, as he wobbled into view, pushing Dahak sluggishly again.

  "I did… did not cheat you… you just… do not know how to throw the die," Dahak stammered back, pretending that he could barely hold himself up.

  "Hey, what are you to doing around here? This area is restricted!" one of the soldiers barked out and the three turned their attentions to the two drunks.

  Meath ignored the soldiers and stumbled forward swinging a sloppy punch at Dahak, who easily sidestepped the feeble attack and tripped Meath to the ground, slurring something incoherent down at him. As Meath slowly pulled himself to his feet, he noticed that none of the three guards that walked toward them had their hands near their weapons, meaning they had fallen for the ruse and believed there to be no threat at all with the two drunks.

  "Yous… yous guys should help me," Meath bellowed out to the approaching soldiers. "This guy… no…this… this cheat stole my coin!"

  "How did you two get in here?" one of the soldiers asked, his voice showed he was annoyed at being disrupted so close to the end of his shift.

  Dahak charged Meath and tackled him through the soldiers and to the ground.

  "You dirty whoresons! Stop your damn fighting!"

  All three of the soldiers reached down to pull the two drunks apart, cursing as they did. "You know, if the jails were not already full you two would be spending a few days in there for…" The soldier in the middle started to say, but he voice stopped short as he fell over Meath and Dahak, face first into the ground, not moving.

  "What the?" both soldiers blurted out in union at seeing their comrade fall to the ground limp.

  The soldier on the right turned to look behind him just in time to see Zehava's sword pommel crack into the side of his head, dropping him next to the other fallen soldier.

  The last standing soldier took a step back getting his attackers into view, his hand dropping to his sword hilt and he tried to pull it free. Meath's hand shot up and gripped the soldier's wrist, halting the blades release before it had gotten more than a handspan from its sheath.

  The soldier turned to look down at what had stopped him. "What are you doing?" he bellowed in terror, but said nothing else as a solid sphere of ice connected with his skull. He wavered on his feet for several heartbeats before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he joined the others on the ground.

  "Quickly, we do not have much time!" Ursa urged running over the soldiers towards the door.

  "What about them?" Meath asked.

  "We do not have time for that," Ursa replied, his eyes darting up to the wall to where he knew the guard would be coming back shortly. "Come now!" He waved them to the doorway.

  They entered the stable's large equipment room. It smelled heavily of raw leather, lard and metal. The worktables were covered with thick elk hides that were being cut and shaped into saddles, bridles and other riding equipment. The craftsmen had long retired for the night and now the room was still.

  They moved through the rows of worktables and stacks of finished and unfinished gear to the rear of the room, where the only other door was. This would lead them into the castle's servant hallways that rimmed the whole castle-these made it easier for the servants to go about their chores without disturbing the nobles and their guests.

  Ursa put his ear to the wooden door and listened intently for any sounds coming from the other side that would alert them of people in the hallway. After several long moments, he decided it was safe and hoped that at this late hour no one would be about. He pushed the door open slowly and peered out the crack, again listening for any indication of movement.

  "I think someone found the soldiers outside!" Zehava stammered, looking back the way they had come and hearing shouts from beyond the doorway.

  "Princess, you know the castle far better than I," Ursa whispered. "What is the quickest way to Lord Marcus' and Lady Jewel's chambers?"

  "I have never been in the servant's hallway before," Nicolette replied, anxiety creeping into her words. She watched Ursa's eyes glance at the back door where the shouts we
re getting louder and saw the worry in his eyes. "But… but I think if we go left that will lead us in the right direction."

  "Good enough!" Ursa pushed the door open fully and began a fast-paced jog down the hallway.

  The thick candles were burning low in the iron wall brackets. Many had already burned out, leaving dark sections down the long, empty, stone hallway. Ursa stopped them when they reached the first junction and looked down the dimly lit hallway. He saw movement near the far end and decided against going down this one. Before moving along, he glanced back the way they had come and knew guards would be filling the hallway any moment now.

  The next junction was better lit with newer candles, and no movement could be seen down its length. Behind them, much noise could be heard, as the several guards began their search of the hallways.

  "This one should lead to the western wing's main staircase of the castle to my aunt and uncle's room," Nicolette said, panic rising in her chest, "at least I think it does… I do not know for sure," she cried out.

  They quickly went down the hallways not having any choice in the matter now.

  "Stop where you are!" two soldiers yelled out stepping in front of the opening.

  Ursa cursed, but did not slow his pace. He lifted his hands and called on his Gift - a forceful current of air pulsed down the hallway and slammed into the soldiers, knocking the wind from their lungs and hurling them to the ground.

  Ursa stopped just before the hallway opening and peered out to make sure all was clear. The two guards on the floor were curled up in a fetal position still trying to draw breath. He looked back at the others. "Whatever happens, do not draw your weapons! We are not assassins, the enemy, nor should we give them any reason to believe that we are."

  "We got trouble coming up our flank!" Meath called ahead, fighting all urges to draw his sword at the sound of armed men coming toward them.