The Inner Realm

by Dale Furse

  “Hurry up, kid. We’ve got to find the king.”

  Terni came trundling out of the bathroom pulling up his new grey shorts. He also wore a white tunic similar to Mike’s shirt.

  “What is it?” Terni asked.

  “Ludo’s here.” Mike rushed through the door, but stopped dead in the wide hallway, unsure of which way to go. “We’ll head for the main dining room,” he said more to himself than to Terni. “They’re probably having breakfast.”

  Scampering in the direction, they trod the night before, Terni’s light footsteps pattered behind him. Ignoring the guards posted on either side of the double doors, Mike burst through and into the dining room, but no one was there.

  “Hey,” one of the guards said from behind. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m looking for the king or Derek or Noor,” Mike said, flustered. “Ludo and his men are here.”

  The guards looked at each other and then at Mike and Terni. Mike thought he saw a small look of suspicion on their faces, but one man pointed to a door on the left of the hall. “Go through there and down the stairs to the kitchen. The cook will know where to find them.”

  Mike didn’t wait for them to say anything else and ran down the hall, throwing open the door. A small landing led down a flight of stairs. He could smell bacon cooking below. Jumping down the stairs two at a time, he came face to face with a skinny, wrinkly, old woman.

  “Yes? Can I help you?” she said, and although she looked like a stern hospital matron or school principle, she sounded like anyone’s mother would when speaking to two boys.

  “We’re looking for the king,” Mike said.

  “He is breakfasting with his son in the courtyard. You must be the guests he spoke of.” She curtsied, which made Mike feel uncomfortable. “This way,” she said.

  They followed her through a side door and along an open walkway, which led to a well-kept courtyard. Passing a statue of a man sitting on a horse surrounded by spouting water, they rounded a garden of roses to a paved circle where the king sat with Derek, Noor and Cornel.

  “Ah, you found us,” Derek said as he rose from his chair. Noor and Cornel stood.

  “Thank you, Maise,” Cornel said to the woman.

  She curtsied and left without a word.

  “Sire, um, your majesty,” Mike began.

  Derek laughed. “I’m still Derek; please, call me by my name.”

  “Derek,” Mike said. “Ludo is here.”

  “We were just informed.” He nodded to Mike’s left.

  He hadn’t noticed the soldier standing at attention. “Of course,” Mike said.

  The breakfast table was abandoned and the four inhabitants followed by the guard. They were already on their way to the other end of the courtyard, and Mike had to hustle to keep up. Terni could go faster, but the little winged messenger kept pace with him all the way.

  They followed the group through garden beds full of flowers and herbs to another paved courtyard. It was cold and grey with stone stairs leading to a high, flat parapet above the palace’s buildings that surrounded the entire structure.

  The king must have been much fitter than Mike had given him credit for because he pushed past Derek and climbed the stairs at a fast rate.

  Mike caught up with the group on the eastern side of the bulwark. Because of the city’s buildings, he hadn’t seen the many riders camped a small way down the valley, not far from the city’s walls. The lower parapet surrounding the city held no guards. He thought the king silly for not ordering lookouts posted.

  Smoking campfires in clearings between the tents signaled breakfast for the troops. On the hill above, the full strength of Ludo’s army waited. Mike could not believe how many there were. He wondered if more men waited behind the hill, and if they did, how many men and women fighters King Horace had. Perhaps the king might have to consider conscription after all.

  “So,” the king said with sad eyes, “my son is here after all.”

  Mike felt sorry for the king. He hadn’t believed his youngest son would really march on him and his kingdom.

  Chapter 27

  “What would you have us do, Father,” Derek asked, placing his hand on the kings shoulder.

  The king was silent for what seemed like ages. Many emotions flitted across his face—sorrow, hurt, betrayal, and to Mike’s amazement, anger, just before he turned to his oldest son.

  “Send word to lock all the gates to the kingdom except the east, and then amass our armies along the eastern wall. Put the best archers along the parapets. Send word to the houses outside the walls requesting any able men to join our troops. Women and children, and any unable or unwilling to fight, are to seek refuge in the city.”

  Derek nodded and left. Cornel turned to follow the prince. “No, take some men and request the same of our city dwellers.”

  “Aye, Sire.” Cornel’s wound, not fully healed, caused him to flinch slightly as he saluted his king and started on his way.

  The king faced Noor. “Post lookouts on all sides of the bulwark and make it clear, I want to know the minute my youngest son makes a move on the city.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” said Noor with a respectful nod.

  The king watched Noor depart and absently placed his hand on Mike’s shoulder. Once she had gone, he returned his attention to his son’s armed multitude. And when he spoke he wasn’t really addressing Mike or Terni. “I doubt he will attack at the moment. He is just showing his strength for now, but I am sure he has a plan. We must also have a plan.” With that, the king strode to the other end of the battlement.

  Unsure of whether to follow, Mike gave a small cough to remind the king he and Terni were still there.

  King Horace turned, his expression left no doubt he had forgotten. He sighed and tried to smile, but it was more of a wince. “Nothing is to happen for a while, boys, you go and eat breakfast. I’ll summon you when I need you.” He faced the east, held his hands behind his back and gazed out over the city to the masses on the hill.

  Tugging on Mike’s shirt, Terni asked, “It really is going to be war, isn’t it?”

  “Maybe not,” Mike said. “The king still has to talk to Ludo and anyway, I can’t believe a son would go to war with his father.” He added silently, especially, to win would probably mean killing off his entire family.

  Mike threw a smile at Terni, but as they walked back to the courtyard, he remembered all the wars and horrible things royals on earth had done over the centuries. They killed their brothers, sisters, mothers and fathers, just to get thrones for themselves. No wonder he hated ancient history.

  Mike sat at the courtyard table. He figured somebody had to turn up to clear away the table.

  “I’m hungry,” Terni said, eyeing the king’s leftovers.

  As if waiting for their return, the woman from the kitchen entered the courtyard with two laden platters. “Ah, there you are,” she said. Her smile produced even more wrinkles in her cheeks. She placed the platters on the table. One of the plates held smoked bacon, eggs, and potatoes, sliced thin like chips. Cubes of colorful fruits filled the other. As she cleared the other plates, she said, “I’m the head cook and anytime you need some sustenance, you come and see me.”

  “I will,” said Terni, beaming.

  “Thank you, Maise,” Mike said, hoping he remembered her name correctly. He must have because she smiled a wide, wrinkly smile and left.

  After they had eaten, Maise cleared the table. Mike, unsure of where to go, stayed with Terni in the courtyard. By mid morning, he had explored every inch of the gardens. Terni sat amongst the daisies making a long, daisy chain.

  Sitting again at the table, watching Terni’s handiwork, Mike sighed. It might not be so bad having a little brother.

  He leapt to his feet when he saw Noor approach.

  “It’s time for you to tell the king your plan.”

  Mike nodded and with Terni, followed Noor to the king’s private rooms. He was sure Ludo didn’t have enough balls
to keep reloading the rifles. If he did, the bandits wouldn’t have been so angry when someone fired one lousy bullet. He searched his memory for any of the stores he had seen in the labyrinth of caves and tunnels. The only crates that held the balls were in the tunnel at the entrance of the caves and he hadn’t seen many. No, he was sure.

  The king’s private room was more like an office. A low, round table large enough to sit six people sat a little to the left, but in the centre and near the back wall, stood a large desk piled high with rolled, paper parchments. Mike and Terni sat on the two spare chairs around the table. In the other chairs—King Horace, Derek, Noor and Cornel.

  A nod from the king and Mike said, “I’m certain Ludo… um… Prince Ludo, doesn’t have much ammunition, ah, bullets. I didn’t see many stacked up and one of the bandits got angry at another one for wasting a single bullet on me. If I am right, Sire, only some of the rifles can shoot and my guess is not for very long. The rest of the bandits will have empty guns.”

  “That’s still many potential deaths,” the king said.

  “Yes, Sire, but if our,” the king’s eyebrows rose and Mike rephrased his words. “But if your army stands their ground, maybe with shields, when Ludo first attacks, we might outlast the bullets. Once they’re spent, it may give your troops a chance to gain the upper hand.” Mike made a mental note to check how the shields would stand up to bullets.

  “That makes sense,” the king agreed, and fell silent for a few minutes. He scratched his beard thoughtfully. “If Ludo doesn’t desist with this lunacy, we will have no choice but to do as you say.” He scraped his chair back as he stood. “However, I hope it won’t come to that. I will go now and talk with my son. Mike, Cornel and Derek, explain to the men what you want them to do if Ludo wages battle.”

  “Yes, Sire,” Mike said.

  ***

  Thousands of men and women armed with shields and swords stood ready along the eastern wall of the city. Mike hoped the shields were thick enough. They should be. They were made to protect archers in the field, and they would only be needed if the bullets made the distance.

  Mike regarded the scene. More soldiers took their positions in two rows along the wall’s bulwark. Swords adorned their sides and they held bows. Full quivers hung on their backs. Archers. He hoped Ludo’s men did not get that close.

  All kingdom adults not able to fight and children were in the walled city where more soldiers waited to fight the final battle if it came down to that.

  The king rode out toward the grassy knolls. A lone horseman emerged from the enemies ranks. Ludo. The traitorous prince didn’t ride out very far. He made the king go to him.

  Father and son only spoke for a moment before Ludo waved his arm. A rider burst forward and shot into the king’s army. A woman’s cry rang out from the line to Mike’s right. The mongrel shot someone.

  Mike ran towards the sound of the cry and found a young woman on the ground. He pushed the soldier next to her out of the way and checked where the bullet had penetrated her body. Relief and giddiness flowed through him. The bullet had lodged in her upper arm.

  “It’s all right,” he said to her. “You’ll live.” For some reason, he didn’t know why, a strange giggle threatened to gurgle from his throat. He said, “You’re only winged.” He turned away. What a stupid thing to say, only winged. How could he be so flippant? What was wrong with him? It was not funny.

  He had managed to pull himself together long enough to tell the men next to her to take her to a physician.

  Back with Derek and Noor, the silly giggle escaped as he came to a stop in front of Noor. “I’m sorry,” he said to everyone around him.

  “It’s all right,” Derek said, squeezing Mike’s shoulder. “It is nervous laughter. All of us have felt it.”

  Everyone within hearing distance nodded agreement and Mike felt a little better, although he still couldn’t believe he’d actually said she’d been winged. Bloody old westerns.

  The king galloped back to his line.

  “Is the army ready?” the king bellowed at Derek with wild, wet eyes.

  Mike wasn’t sure if they were wet from tears of sadness or fury.

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” Derek answered.

  “Mount your horses and remind the men what they have to do. I will not give up the crown.” The king gazed down at Mike. “I hope you’re correct in your theory, young man. I’ve never seen such weapons.”

  “I’m sure.” Mike hoped with all his might he was right too, because if he weren’t, they would all be slaughtered.

  Mike rode with the king and Derek along the front line. Zandell’s already massive army had trebled in size with the inclusion of Derek’s men and the enlistment of every available Zandellian adult. All volunteered. Proud of his people though the king may have been, he also worried for them. Every causality would take a piece of him with them. Mike was sure of it. He was the real deal—the King of Zandell. Mike would never want the responsibility, whether he had walked the streets of heaven or not.

  Having already spoken to the men about how they should fight the rifles, Mike stayed silent while the king talked to the men and women lined in three rows in front of their horses. Their shields stacked in front; the first row would squat, the second, bend, and the third, stand erect.

  The thick shields should protect them and the horses behind them. Had Ludo’s men had any target practice? Mike doubted it. They wouldn’t have had enough bullets to become proficient. They wouldn’t know to sight the rifles high over such a distance. He wagered with the kingdom army’s lives. The bullets, if any found a mark, would be ineffective by the time they found the shields.

  “You’re my people,” King Horace roared. “We are the people of Zandell. We will prevail. There will be no slavery. There will be no thralldom. We will be TRIUMPHANT!”

  The whole army cheered as one. In the distance, Ludo’s army formed two lines of attack, waving their guns above their heads.

  Oafs, even trained sharpshooters with modern rifles would find it hard to shoot accurately over that distance. The flintlock musket was only true at about eight hundred paces. They were at least twelve hundred or more away.

  A lone horseman rode forward. Mike couldn’t see his face, but he knew from his white Roman dress, it was Ludo with a Roman emperor’s head piece resting his head. He thought he was Nero or something. Rome fell and so will he and his army.

  Ludo shot his gun in the air.

  Mike snorted. A wasted bullet, the prince’s confidence would be short lived.

  The king’s army made noises. Some determined—others fearful.

  Ludo took his time reloading his weapon, but once done, he howled the battle cry.

  Mike was right. “Just remember what I told you,” Mike bellowed at the troops. “Use your shields until they run out of bullets, and be careful, who knows where the bullets will land.” He looked at each in turn, the king, Derek, Noor and Cornel.

  A line of Ludo’s men began to advance, Ludo in the lead with his horse prancing as if it could feel the excitement and madness in his rider.

  Mike held his breath.

  His spent breath gushed out. The enemy only closed the gap by twenty or so meters. They stopped at the bottom of the rise. Dumbos. They were better off at the top.

  The first shot rang out from Ludo’s gun.

  Zandell’s forces held the layered shields before them. Mike squatted, the king above him and Cornel standing tall over both. Their three shields were top to toe in front of them.

  Beside Mike, Noor fell on one knee below Derek. A huge man had to bend a little so his shield met Derek’s armor. Mike had wanted to suggest to the king to make shields large enough for both horse and man, but there wasn’t enough time. Instead, they positioned the horses as far behind the line as possible. King Horace kept his mount close. At least with Ludo’s army below the hill, the rest of the horses had some cover.

  Ludo must have practiced because his first shot bit into the king’s shi
eld and had him falling back into a horse. It whinnied its resentment.

  Mike clutched the king’s trousers. Within seconds, King Horace regained his balance and reorganized his shield.

  Murmuring from the men rose.

  “Stay calm,” the king bellowed. Soldiers echoed his command down the lines.

  The clouds grew black as ebony, slicing open every now and then with bright lightning.

  Ludo’s men fired. The thunder cracked closely, followed by the striking of bullets hitting metal-faced wood. Right and left, men and women were caught off balance and fought to regain their equilibrium.

  Bullets struck Mike’s shield with such force the metal vibrated almost continuously, but none got through. The violent tremors coupled with the tightness of his grip, numbed his sweaty hands. His shield slipped out from under the king’s shield. Mike tightened his grip and reset his safeguard in place.

  Thankfully, most of the balls of metal fell well short of the king’s line.

  The heavens roared, first from the east, then as if answering the challenge, from the west. Mike frowned. Were the gods at it again?

  Mike peeked through a slither of space between his shield and the king’s

  The enemy mounted their horses and the second and third lines advanced with saddled horses in tow. The halted behind the riflemen, who stood and fired, walked forward as they reloaded.

  A horse cried out, heralding a stray bullet had penetrated the king’s ranks. Mike did not dare look. He used every atom of his concentration to keep his shield in place. The shield, seemingly a reasonable weight when he first held it, grew heaver by the breath.

  The gap between them and their attackers began to close and Mike started to worry if he was right about the number of bullets the evil prince had.

  One of the riflemen finished reloading and he fired. His rifle misfired and blasted back into his face. He cried out and fell back but not one of Ludo’s men seemed to notice or if they did, they didn’t care.