Locmire's Quest: Book One A Tales from Calencia Novel

by Brian Hutchinson

  It was his tenth birthday and young Prince Thaddeus sat patiently at the foot of his father’s throne, awaiting his arrival. The King was on his way to the throne room to hold court. Today, the King was to settle a disagreement between a poor farmer and one of the royal guards. There were many more matters to be dealt with, but the King only had a limited amount of time today.

  After the proceedings, the King had promised young Thaddeus that he would take him into the city to celebrate his birthday. Thaddeus was never content on spending his birthday in the castle. He spent every day of his life there and did not wish to stay, confined to its stone walls, on his special day. Besides, the city was a very interesting place for a boy of his age. He loved to see the merchants' wares, often finding items that would never be allowed in the castle. The local merchants looked forward to the Prince’s birthday almost as much as he did. Last year, he found a very rare and costly set of throwing knives that was later stripped from him after every door in the castle had to be replaced.

  The King finally arrived at his throne and took his seat. He looked down at his young son and said, “I want you to pay very close attention. Someday it will be your job to decide these matters. It will be best if you have some experience dealing with these mundane, but important, tasks.”

  “I will never have to do these things,” Thaddeus replied.

  “And what makes you think that?” asked the King.

  “Because you will never die,” said Thaddeus.

  The King smiled heartily at his son.

  “Well it is true,” Thaddeus said as he took to his feet. “I hear the stories about you. Everyone says that you cannot be killed. They say you are invincible.”

  “Thaddeus, everyone dies eventually. I have been very lucky in battle. Warriors far greater than me have met their fate at a much younger age,” he said with a smile. “But I do not plan on dying anytime soon.”

  “One day, the people of our kingdom will say the same about me,” replied the Prince.

  “I am sure they will, my son. I am sure they will,” said the King as he patted Thaddeus on the head.

  A middle aged man opened the doors to the throne room and said, “My King, are you ready?”

  “Yes. Send them in,” he replied.

  The King sat upright on his throne and motioned for his son to stand beside him. An old farmer hobbled into the throne room. Following closely behind him was a young guard with a smirk on his face. Both men stood in front of the throne with their hands behind their backs. The man who announced their arrival stood between them.

  “My King, today you are to settle an argument between Domur, a local farmer, and Perry, one of your royal guards,” the mediator said as he unrolled a length of parchment. “Domur claims that Perry slaughtered one of his prized cows and urinated on his lettuce patch,” a grin grew on Perry’s face. “When Domur approached Perry and told him to leave his property, the guard responded with physical violence, severely injuring Domur and his wife.”

  “Is this correct, Domur?” King Graystone asked.

  “Yes, my King,” Domur replied as his face turned red.

  “Perry claims that the farmer assaulted him first, and he used only the force necessary to restrain the farmer. He claims he has no idea how the cow died, but he does admit to urinating on Domur’s lettuce patch after Domur struck him once again.”

  “Is this information accurate, Perry?”

  “Yes, my King,” Perry answered cockily.

  The King left his throne and stood in front of the men. He looked at both men inquisitively.

  “Why did Domur attack you?” the King asked.

  “I have no idea, my King,” Perry replied.

  “Domur,” said the King. “Why did Perry perform such vile acts toward you?”

  “He was drunk, my King. That is the only reason that I can think of,” replied Domur.

  “When did these events take place?” the King asked as he looked toward the mediator.

  “Yesterday, my King,” replied the mediator.

  He had heard enough. As soon as the men had walked into the throne room, he knew instantly who was guilty. Two days ago, the King had passed Domur on the outskirts of Ravendale and purchased a rather large quantity of produce from him. Although the farmer was old, he was quite able. He helped load every last crate of the vegetables into the carriage. Today he could barely stand. He had taken more than a few defensive strikes. He had been beaten. The King rounded on Perry and slapped him to the ground. Thaddeus gasped in shock.

  “On your feet,” the King demanded of Perry.

  The guard rose to his feet with his head hung low.

  “Perry, I find you guilty of these accusations. You are a royal guard to Galdarath. A guard who swore an oath to protect and serve the King, as well as the citizens. You dishonor not only the kingdom, but your King as well. For your act of stupidity I have decided to give you a promotion,” the King said.

  With a look of surprise, Perry asked, “A promotion?”

  “Yes, a promotion. From this point forward you will no longer be a guard to Galdarath. I now bestow upon you the title of royal farmer. You will now begin your apprenticeship under Domur. If you give him any grief,” the King paused for a long moment. “You will be put to death. Understood?”

  “Yes, my King,” Perry said shamefully.

  “Do you agree to these terms, Domur?” the King asked.

  “Yes, my King. You are most just,” Domur said.

  “Very well then. Perry, there is no need to pack your belongings. You will leave at once and begin your new career. Be gone with you,” said the King.

  The mediator outstretched his arm and escorted Perry and Domur out of the throne room.