The Reincarnated Prince (Thirty Years of Winter Book 1)

by Danny Macks

  *****

  Chad swayed in the saddle. It was well after dark and he was pretty sure that he'd passed into Thesscore, but he wasn’t too sure where he was any more. The horse had slowed to a walk and he didn’t have any more energy to ask more of it. This was his twentieth mount and none had the first roan's speed and endurance.

  As he rode over a low hill, he heard music in the distance and saw smoke rising from a farmhouse in the small valley below. The music stopped as he approached.

  “Hail the house,” he yelled from the gate. “May I enter?”

  “I’ve got a crossbow that can punch a hole straight through that armor at this range!” a voice yelled from the house.

  “I just need a few minutes rest for my mount,” Chad yelled back as he lifted the visor of his helmet. “Lend me your barn and I swear on the heart of my mother, I’ll be gone before morning.”

  The door opened and the farmer stepped out where Chad could see him, relaxing the string on his crossbow as he moved. “I’ve met your mother, saints bless her. Come into the house and have some supper.”

  Off the saddle, Chad had trouble standing and walking was only possible by leaning on something. He forced himself to move. Inside, Chad took off his helmet and collapsed in the offered chair. Kaleb’s eyes flew wide when he saw the sword at Chad’s hip.

  “You fought in the last war, didn’t you, Kaleb?”

  Kaleb smiled. “M’lord has a good memory. I heard you got promoted into a proper lord …” He gestured to the sword. “... and maybe more?”

  Chad grinned as he leaned back in the chair. “I’m just borrowing it. I’m nothing special.”

  When Chad sat, shades began to appear. The number was up to half a dozen since Chad had started telling bedtime stories and most of them had started copying Champ’s mastiff shape. They arranged themselves around Chad’s chair, expectant and listening.

  “Psh. Tell me another one.”

  “Would you happen to have a storybook I could borrow?”

  Kaleb nodded. "There's some good ones in the Holy Book. Would ya like some dinner? I got plenty of chicken."

  *****

  Midnight kicked at the door of the stall. It was time for his morning exercises.

  The barn man came to the gate and had something snake-like in his hand. The other horses sidled nervously but Midnight knew it was leather, not a real snake. Midnight bopped the man with his head when the man opened the gate but stood in the way, but the man held his ground.

  “Seems the new guy needs a lesson,” he said. He flicked the leather thing.

  Pain lanced across Midnight’s foreleg and he reared. The man backed up and swung the thing again. The leather snake cut his chest and he whinnied his pain and confusion.

  Mother kicked out and the man, again, backed up. Distance gave him more room to use the leather snake and he slashed Mother's rump. Midnight charged.

  The spin was good but the kick was low and caught the man on the hip. After, Midnight landed in a heap.

  “That kick could’ve killed me!” the man roared, dropping the whip and drawing his knife. “I'll geld you, right now!”

  Mother kicked him and the man went down. Leaping to his feet, Midnight made sure the man stayed down.

  He had an awesome mother.

  *****

  The clop of Lady Elena’s wooden pattons on the floor of the great hall woke Jeb before her kick.

  “You said you weren’t going to make things worse!” she hissed.

  “I have no clue what you are talking about.” Jeb sat up and rubbed his eyes. Sleeping in the great hall was supposed to have been an elevation over the barn, but Jeb had his doubts. The hall was warmer, but a thin pad and a blanket on stone was not a mattress of straw.

  Lady Elena grabbed Jeb’s ear and hauled him to his feet. Behind her, a ten year old girl giggled and put a hand over her mouth. Nonse smiled, but silently.

  “Hey! Ow! I’m not a little kid!”

  Elena hauled Jeb, by the ear, out of the hall and across the castle. “I’ve got a son about your age and I’ll grab his ear if he deserves it too.”

  If Jeb kept pace, the ear didn’t hurt that much, but he had to walk a bit sideways and his face burned with every smiling person he passed.

  Outside, Jeb saw Midnight and Mother grazing, alone, in the field that bordered the stable. The sun had risen but had yet to clear the castle wall and a crowd had gathered at the stable. Inside, Jeb recognized the whip before he identified the mangled body next to it with the pulped head. Lady Elena finally let go of his ear.

  Jeb whistled and Mother and Midnight came running back into the barn. The crowd parted and backed more than ten feet away from the blood splattered horses. Jeb patted them both and checked their hooves and the small cuts on their bodies.

  “I’m sorry,” he told the little colt. “I should have been here. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

  “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

  “Yep.” Jeb grabbed a small cup off a hook and led both horses out to a trough.

  “They should be put down.”

  Jeb froze. “No.”

  “They are a dan--”

  “I said, no. You want to punish someone, you punish me instead. They are my horses and I am responsible for their behavior.”

  Lord Ravnos walked across the lawn, dressed in full armor. At his approach, Lady Elena looked stung. He took one look at the body inside and said, “Did he accept responsibility or say it wasn't his fault?”

  “She said to punish her, instead of the horses.”

  “Good. I taught him to be a groomsman, so I accept that punishment in his place. If you wish, I will also take him to Ravnos when I leave.”

  Elena sighed, but said softly. “No, this is my barony, and my responsibility. Don’t get all noble on me now. It makes your bottom lip stick out and your thinking entirely impractical.”

  Elena turned to the gathered groomsmen. “Sen, what’s your opinion on what happened here today?”

  Sen looked to the horses, who were calmly letting Jeb wash them, then back to Lady Elena. “Sarin was a groomsman, m’lady. He cared for warhorses and shoulda known better. He got himself killed.”

  Lady Elena looked to the crowd. “Do you all agree?” Most looked at the ground or to the side, but there were a few nods and no one objected. “Then someone summon the undertaker and let him know he has work to do. Sarin may not have had any friends, but he will get a proper burial. Let the other horses out and get this cleaned up.”

  The crowd moved and she turned back to Lord Ravnos. “Inius,” she said so softly that Jeb barely heard her. “Why are you here, in armor?”

  “The weather is changing, m’lady, and a little caution seemed in order. It's getting hard to know who your friends are.” At Inius’ words, Jeb hesitated. He hated seeing his lady sad.

  “Don’t pretend I don’t know you're listening,” she said at normal volume. “Lord Ravnos may have your back, but I still blame you for this mess.”

  “And I still accept full responsibility, m’lady.” Jeb bowed deeply and Midnight bowed as well, one foreleg stretched forward and one bent underneath his body as he bent his head to the ground.

  Lady Elena’s hand covered her mouth. “Did you teach him that trick?”

  Jeb grinned. “Maybe.” Just then, a shade appeared and signed at Jeb.

  Arriving today. Champion. King's Sword.

  “Momma says the Winter Champion is coming. And he’s bringing the King’s Sword.”

  Chapter Nineteen – The Reincarnated King

  Chad didn’t remember dozing off, but woke with sunlight streaming through the window in the same chair where he had been reading to the shades. He stretched quickly and his muscles screamed in protest.

  Looking around, he saw Champ sleeping next to his chair and one other shade, in humanoid form, floating in a corner. The other shades had departed.

  “Good morning,” he said, signing as he spoke. “Or is it noon?
”

  Hello. Help, the humanoid shade signed.

  “How can I help you? I’m a little busy right now.”

  No. Help.

  “Oh! You want to help me. Can you get a message to Thesscore castle?”

  Done. No understand.

  “You tried to deliver a message and they didn’t understand?”

  Yes. No Nimbus.

  Chad didn’t have a clue what that meant, but it sounded like his first idea of having the shade fetch Nimbus or another shade who knew better sign language wouldn’t work. He had to use what he had in front of him. “If I taught you some signs, could you repeat them?”

  *****

  While the staff prepared the castle befitting the arrival of a royal herald, Jeb tried to make the stable presentable. The stable staff were jittery -- dog shaped shades had been spotted all over the castle -- and having clear work to do was a relief for most of them. Nonse still followed Jeb around, lacking other orders, and when anyone objected to being told what to do by a stranger, Nonse loomed over them.

  It helped that most of Jeb’s orders involved maintenance that should've been done anyway, like repairing worn straps and fresh pine shavings for the floors. He also didn’t stand around, but assigned himself the dirtiest tasks. He was mucking out a stall with Nonse's help when Momma found him.

  The signs that Momma conveyed were painfully slow. She used the eight-part sign for ‘bringing’ instead of the much shorter sign, for example, but the message was clear.

  Wulf is raging. Lock the gates. I’m bringing the King’s Sword.

  Nonse bolted for the keep, while Jeb was still formulating a plan.

  “Momma, if you can find the baroness’ husband, can you spook his horses? Your touch won’t hurt them, but it could startle them enough to slow him down.”

  Yes.

  “No,” Lady Elena interrupted from the stable entrance. “I know my husband’s moods. He will respond to an attack with more violence, not less.”

  “How do you suggest we deal with his Rage, then?”

  “Open the gates, clear the main street and let him into the castle where I can deal with him.”

  The plan was insane. There was no way he could put the love of his life in that kind of danger! But a tiny voice in the back of his head reminded Jeb that Elena wasn’t the love of this life. For the last score of years she had known Baron Thesscore, birthed children with him and dealt with all his moods.

  This was the reason he had avoided the crown for so long, as much as his concerns about how people would react to his body. He was tired of sending good people toward death.

  “You know I’m right.”

  He did. Damn them both, he did. Jeb forced a smile. “Shall we prepare to meet your husband then?”

  Elena smiled and the knot of pain forming in Jeb’s chest eased a little. “Not before you clean up. You smell like horse shit.”

  *****

  The rest had done Chad good, but sixty miles and four changes of mounts later, his muscles were again screaming in protest. King’s Sword or no, he wouldn’t be in fighting condition when he arrived. He would need to rely on his Song.

  Hope filled Chad’s heart as he saw the castle in the distance. His mother had dedicated troops. Well trained and at least six of them were deaf. Thesscore’s men were well trained too, but Deen had said most of them were dead. Thesscore City could withstand a siege against one man.

  Chad cantered past a building and got his first look at the city gates. They were wide open.

  The shade had betrayed him. Was he too late? The main thoroughfare inside the gates was empty. No angry mobs, but no corpses either.

  In the distance, he saw a lone man on a bay charger leading a line of wagons up the hill to Thesscore Castle. A cloud in front of the sun moved and the man gleamed gold. Thesscore. Tears blurred Chad’s vision as he spurred his horse to a gallop.

  *****

  Jeb was in the crowd in the main room when Lady Elena received her husband. She rose from her chair when he stepped, fully armored, into the room.

  “Welcome home, husband!” she called out gaily. “We've missed you.”

  Thesscore's face was glowering when Lady Elena raised his visor and pulled his head down for a kiss. “What do you think of me?”

  “You are the master of five baronies and the most powerful knight in the known world. I respect, admire and love you.”

  Thesscore growled and sang a short tune that reminded Jeb of the casual, vicious sadism that little boys metted out on bugs. A shock flew through every hearing person in the room and hands flew to weapons. “What do you really think?”

  The calm concern on Elena’s face melted away. “Where are my sons, Wulf? Where’s Deen? Where’s Chad? Where’s Wolfey? Every day I wake up and look out the window at Wolfey’s grave. You put him there! What do you think I really think?”

  “Leave her alone,” Inius growled, his hand on his sword. “You are the only enemy here.”

  “Ravnos! This is all your fault. All of the Happiness that kept my lands running is now gone, and it's your fault.” Thesscore looked to Elena and the assembled guardsmen. “The peasants acting up during the harvest, my lost men, even Deen getting hurt, it's all due to him.”

  Elena whirled on Inius. “What did you do to my son?”

  “Elena, I have no cl--”

  Thesscore drew breath to start singing, again.

  “No!” Jeb’s yell silenced the room and turned every head, if only for a moment. “Inius acted under my orders. If you should be mad at anyone, it should be me.”

  At Thesscore’s first note, every expression in the room hardened.

  Lady Elena spoke first. “Wulf, hurt her.”

  Thesscore slammed down his visor with a jerk of his head, casually slapped aside Jeb’s knife, grabbed Jeb’s throat one-handed, and lifted Jeb off the floor.

  Jeb looked about wildly for an ally and saw Ravnos and Elena turning weapons toward each other, her deaf guards ready to leap to her aide. Only Nonse was looking his direction. If Nonse tried to save him, Lady Elena would see that as betrayal and order the other elite guards to kill him.

  Save her, Jeb signed as his body twitched in pain. Save her from herself.

  Nonse nodded but Thesscore slammed Jeb against a wall and he didn’t see anything else.

  “I’m not going to kill you yet,” Thesscore growled softly in Jeb’s ear, ignoring the kicks to his steel breastplate and codpiece. “You, my little warhorse, need breaking first.”

  *****

  Chad charged up the steps, singing echoing in his ears from somewhere inside the main keep, slicing attackers as he ran. This was all his fault, and not just falling asleep in Kaleb’s chair. If he had said something back at the capitol and exposed Thesscore for the abuser he was. If he had stood up to King Oberon over the fire. If he had just said anything when Pious turned into a selfish brat more interested in his warped idea of fun than being a good prince. Over and over and over again, it was he who failed, simply by doing nothing.

  He was only mad at himself, but he was furious. Rage had finally overcome regret and had somehow overcome the Song of Mourning, or blended with it. He needed to die, he deserved to die, but everyone around him, who had also done nothing when they should, deserved to die first.

  In the great hall at the top of the stairs, Chad found five guardsmen sitting on Lord Ravnos, pinning the struggling and cursing armored man to the ground. Another, larger man, was sitting with both legs wrapped around his mother’s waist and his arms around her chest, struggling to pin her arms down. Her favorite knife was stuck in the guard’s thigh. Neither of them was harmed.

  “Haave the pinse!” the big man yelled, pointing in the direction of Thesscore’s rooms.

  *****

  Thesscore closed the metal-reinforced, heavy oaken door, easily sturdy enough to withstand a battering ram and tossed Jeb in the general direction of the room’s bed. Jeb bounced off a bookshelf and landed on the carpeted stone, ga
sping for breath.

  “One thing I have learned, thanks to you,” Thesscore said mildly as he dropped a bar as thick as Jeb’s leg in front of the door, “is that Rage reveals the truth. It strips away the lies and really shows the kind of worthless skum that people really are. So who are you, really?”

  As Thesscore pulled off his gauntlets and helmet, Jeb struggled to his feet.

  “I’m the reincarnated Winter King.”

  Thesscore’s backhand sent Jeb to the floor again. “A king is the most powerful of the lords. Best of the best. He’s the strongest, fastest, has the best armor, has the best horses, the best allies. You aren’t even a real man.”

  “No,” Jeb said as he grabbed a curtain against the bed and pulled. “A king is just someone who sees something wrong and leads those who want to fix it.” Jeb wobbled on his feet and the curtain tore.

  Sounds of activity outside the door turned into a fight when Thesscore sang again. “The only thing I need to be king, myself, is the King’s Sword.”

  As if on command, the King’s Sword thrust through the door and sliced down into the heavy bar holding the door closed. Thesscore yanked the door open and the Sword twisted out of its owner’s hands. He kicked and the sword’s owner, a knight in expensive but plain armor, flew backward, tripping on a charred dead body.

  Thesscore pulled the sword out of the open door and stepped back out of the way.

  "You were born on the New Year," Jeb said, shocked.

  "Exactly twenty years before the eclipse." He glanced at the sword in his bare hand. "Guess that makes me king."

  Armed with the King's Sword, Thesscore resumed singing.

  *****

  Rising to his feet, Rage clouding his vision from within and without, Chad’s eyes fell on the last person he expected to see. The boy from the library. The boy was struggling to stand, as if he had just been hit, was wearing no armor, no weapons, but determination on every inch of his face.