The Prince of Warwood and The War of Kings

by Clinton, J. Noel

  Lost in thought, Xavier jumped at the sound of the residence door slamming shut. He scrambled off the bed and raced to the closet. He hid in its depths, leaving the door open a crack so he could see what was going on.

  “Jeremy?” Lana’s desperate call nearly had Xavier stepping out of hiding, but he couldn’t. Lana had most likely come from the academy. How would he explain how he had gotten here so quickly?

  The bedroom door opened. “Jeremy? Are you here?”

  Not receiving an answer, Xavier listened as Lana shut the door and walked away. Releasing the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, he tried to relax and get comfortable for the wait. Then he remembered. He was going to be a big brother! Lana was going to have a baby—a girl! He wasn’t sure how he knew the baby was a girl, but he remembered hearing the fast pitter-patting of the baby’s heart. He grinned at the thought. He wondered if Dad knew about the baby.

  Suddenly a loud bang from the residence entrance stiffened Xavier’s spine, and when he heard Lana’s scream, a chill shivered down it. He jumped to his feet and sprinted to the door, but when he opened it, he saw a dozen or so dark soldiers trudging up the steps toward him. One carried Lana over his shoulder. She hung like a ragdoll, unconscious. She would be fine. She wasn’t killed, but if the Dark Army found him, his father would die! Xavier sprinted away from the door and dove under the bed, having no time to make it back to the closet. No sooner had he crawled to the center of the bed than the bedroom door banged open.

  “Put the queen on the bed,” an oily voice ordered. He recognized that voice. Danson! “Secure the area. The king will come for her, and when he does, he’s ours.”

  “Sir. What about the boy?”

  At first, Xavier thought they were referring to him.

  “He’s gone straight to the academy to find that murdering prince. Remember, we have our orders. We are not to kill the king until Master Fox returns with the prince. He wants the boy to experience the pain of losing a father as he did.”

  “Yes, sir,” the soldier responded.

  The group wasn’t in the residence for more than five minutes when a loud rumble and bang came from the floor below.

  “It appears the king is home,” Danson snickered and walked across the room to the door, peering out before returning to the soldiers under his command. “It won’t take the king long to get past the men posted downstairs. Be at the ready, men. Get to your positions.”

  The men around him scrambled, some going out onto the patio, one going into the bathroom, one standing guard next to the bed where Lana lay, and finally another going to the closet. Good thing he hadn’t had enough time to get to the closet, or he would be so busted now. The clanging of swords and crashing sounds echoed from the floor below. Lana stirred on the bed above him, and the king’s heavy footsteps could be heard on the staircase.

  “Jeremy! No, it’s a trap!” Lana screeched out before Danson scrambled toward the bed and punched her. Lana rolled onto the floor with a thud just as the bedroom door burst open.

  “Henrick, you take the ugly cuss on the right. This piece of crap is mine!”

  “Yes, sire,” Henrick responded and the two men raced into the room. Chaos erupted. Xavier watched the men’s feet as they did battle. His father’s footwork was light and quick. Danson’s heavy and slow. He was most definitely outmatched by the king. Xavier smiled. There was a bright flash of energy. Suddenly, Danson’s feet left the floor, and a crash at the far side of the room sounded where he landed. Another flash of light illuminated the room, and there was cry from where Henrick fought against the second man. There were at least two other men hidden in the room, and a dozen or more lying in wait on the patio. Xavier crawled to the end of the bed and peered up at the fighting men.

  Henrick was holding his own and had severely injured the dark soldier, who was bleeding profusely from the abdomen. Danson was scrambling to his feet as the king stomped toward him. Danson managed to conjure a blocking energy as the king sent an electro force at him. The force ricocheted off the block, and Jeremiah ducked just in time to avoid being hit by his own power.

  Danson’s eyes were wide with fear as the king continued toward him. As the king’s hands grabbed him roughly by the collar, Danson cried out, “Attack!”

  Suddenly, the hidden men in the room and three additional men from the patio sprang into action. The soldier hiding in the bathroom immediately hit Henrick with a force that sent him to the ground twitching in agony. Xavier recognized the empowerment. Dr. Angelo had used it against him while he was held captive at the Institute. It was a torturous, painful power that contracted muscles until they tore or snapped bones.

  As Henrick lay helpless and twitching, the soldier, cocky and confident he had the upper hand, withdrew his sword and approached the lieutenant. This is where Henrick would die, Xavier realized. Taking a deep breath, Xavier reached out toward the dark soldier, who now stood over Henrick with his sword raised, ready to impale him. Closing his eyes, Xavier twisted his hand. Even from across the room, he could hear the man’s neck crack and a thud as the man dropped dead to the floor. Xavier opened his eyes and met Henrick’s staring back at him. Gesturing for Henrick to remain silent of his presence, the guard nodded weakly before passing out.

  Xavier looked toward the patio doorway. His father had taken the battle outside. Fearful that his father was outnumbered, Xavier squirmed out from under the bed and crept to the doorway. His father wielded his sword expertly with jaw-dropping finesse. Six dark soldiers and Danson had the king surrounded, but his father didn’t look at all worried. Holding his sword in one hand, he extended the other toward an attacking solider, making a twisting motion. The man dropped to the ground like a stone just as the king parried a complex move from another soldier while Danson stood back and observed. In no time at all, the king countered the attack with a feint to the abdomen before slashing the man’s head clean off. Xavier took a step back at the brutality of the action, but quickly dismissed it. After all, this army under William LeMasters’ command did the same to Dublin Minnows. Satisfaction filled him as he continued to watch his father take out one soldier after another until only Danson and one soldier remained.

  Danson suddenly looked in his direction, and Xavier quickly ducked behind his father’s lounge chair next to the patio door. Downstairs, Xavier heard the door shut. It could only be one person. He was about to see himself racing into the room. Suddenly, Danson raced into the room and quickly clambered into the closet. Damn! He was sure glad he didn’t hide there. Moments later, past Xavier entered the room.

  “Lana? Lana? Are you okay?” he heard himself whisper as he knelt next to Lana.

  A few moments past before Lana answered, “Xavier? What… where’s your father? There’re dark soldiers in the castle!”

  As his past self talked Lana into going to safety without him, Xavier peered out onto the patio where his father had disarmed the dark soldier.

  “Come with me, honey,” Lana was pleading.

  Xavier tuned out the remainder of the conversation as his mind reeled to come up with a plan to save the king.

  “Surrender or die!” his father ordered.

  Past Xavier crept to the double glass door and peered out onto the large patio.

  “Never!” dark soldier responded.

  “So be it,” his father responded, killing the man.

  The events that followed happened quickly. Danson, hiding in the closet, opened the door and crept up behind past Xavier.

  “Xavier!” his father shouted.

  He watched himself drop to the floor, roll to his back, and lift a sword just in time to block Danson’s strike.

  “So glad you could finally join us, Prince Wells. We didn’t want to start this party without you!”

  “If you hurt a single hair on his body, you will pay,” his father warned as he approached them.

  “Hurt him? Of course not, sire. I wouldn’t dream of it. I plan to kill him.”

  “Good luck with
that. Maybe I should close my eyes so you’ll have at least half a chance at it. It wouldn’t seem fair otherwise,” past Xavier responded confidently.

  Suddenly, Danson flew out the door and crashed into a birdbath. His father turned to deal with Danson while past Xavier faced Fox LeMasters. Xavier remained hidden behind the chair, his mind analyzing when he could get to his father to save him. Then he realized he didn’t need to save the king, he needed to kill Fox. But that still didn’t prevent the wound Danson inflicted with the aid of Fox’s bodyguard. Past Xavier’s fight with Fox was pushed to the background as Xavier contemplated his options. He didn’t have much time to work something out.

  Suddenly, Fox and his past self slammed into the bureau near him and he hunkered down out of sight. How was he going to get out onto the patio with his former self and Fox fighting in plain sight? The solution suddenly came to him, and he was tempted to slap himself in the head. His abilities! Why did he forget about how powerful he was? He had the ability of invisibility! Xavier was no longer surprised by how easily his abilities came to him, and with the mere thought of being invisible, Xavier looked down at his missing body. The only drawback with this ability was that he would have to remove all his clothing in order to sneak out. He would be naked. Not liking the idea but with no other option, he quickly stripped and slowly stood from his hiding spot.

  Fox had his past self pinned against the wall.

  “Why would they believe that you would ever stand a chance against me? You’re just a little boy,” Fox hissed.

  “You know?” past Xavier wheezed, “I might consider surrendering if you’d just stop giving me a shower with your spit.”

  The comment earned a punch to his already bruised ribs and he fell to the floor. Fox swept the sword in a wide arc, his intentions obvious to Xavier as he watched, invisible from his vantage point. It occurred to him then that the sword hadn’t stopped on its own accord. Thrusting his hand toward the Sword of the Chosen, he locked it in his telekinesis power just inches from his past self’s head. Fox fought against the force, trying in vain to use brute force to continue the kill strike.

  “Wh… what’s going on?” he exclaimed.

  “What do you think, numb nuts? It’s my sword. It won’t harm me!”

  Then Fox and his past self began to fight until Danson’s cry sent all eyes to the fighting on the patio.

  “Help him!” Fox ordered his bodyguard.

  Leaving his past self to continue the fight with Fox, Xavier quickly slipped out onto the patio ahead of the burly bodyguard. He slipped behind some shrubbery as the bodyguard approached the king, who had a hand wrapped around Danson’s neck. It appeared that the king had settled for killing Danson the old-fashioned way. The guard withdrew his sword and had every intention of stabbing the king in the back. With a quick flick of his finger, Xavier tripped the large man. However, he unexpectedly stumbled directly into the king, and the men fell in a heap onto the ground.

  The king let out a grunt as the large guard fell on top of him. The men fought and wrestled around the ground for several minutes until finally his father punched the guard, pinned him to the ground, rolled free, and sprang to his feet. Danson and the guard scrambled to their feet and faced down the king, who smiled cockily at the pair.

  “So? Who’s going to make the first move? The second best brother or the substandard guard who could only successfully attack me with my back turned?”

  Both men attacked at once. The guard lunged at the king while Danson swung his sword. The result was catastrophic for the guard. Danson’s sword caught the larger man across the chest, and the man jerked backwards with a yelp. The king looked somewhat shocked by the turn of events before a booming laugh exploded from him. Xavier couldn’t stop the snicker at the sight. The pair of dark men looked like bumbling idiots. With a quick twist of the king’s hand, Danson dropped to the ground. The bodyguard lunged at the king but never made contact as Xavier instinctively sent a force at the man and sent him flying over the patio wall, plummeting to his death.

  The king’s gaze jerked in Xavier’s direction, and he ducked, forgetting he was invisible.

  “Dad!” past Xavier gasped, running to his father and hugging him.

  “I’m okay,” his father responded. “Lana…”

  “She’s okay. I sent her to Loren and Ephraim so they could keep her safe.”

  “Good. Good.”

  Fox suddenly appeared behind past Xavier, his sword raised at the ready.

  “Xavier! NO!” his father yelled, shoving him aside.

  Hidden and invisible Xavier watched the entire episode unfold, again! He couldn’t let his dad die! He couldn’t!

  “NOOO!” he screamed, thrusting his hand toward the Dark King. Just before Fox plunged the sword into the king, a gravitational force slammed the older boy to the ground with such force that Fox was crushed on impact.

  Jeremiah looked down at the puddled mess that was once Fox LeMasters before jerking his eyes in invisible Xavier’s direction again. With a sigh of relief that the job was done, Xavier released his hold on the past and found himself in the exact spot he had been in when he bent time. Still naked, but no longer invisible Xavier scrambled to find his clothes. They were exactly where he had left them, behind the chair. Grabbing his pants, he pulled them on and looked around the room. His father sat on the bed, looking at him.

  “Dad,” he whispered, relief pouring into his voice as he raced to him and launched himself into his arms.

  “It’s okay, Xavier. I’m okay.” He pulled him to arm’s length and studied Xavier’s face. Then he stroked the boy’s face and smiled. “You are extraordinary. The prophet… he’s you, isn’t he?”

  Xavier was taken aback. No one was supposed to remember Abraham Vincent. How did his father remember? He started to answer but found himself speechless.

  “I remember because I have omniscience. I see all truths. I always have. Whenever Abraham intervened in our time stream, I could see the results of what would have happened if he hadn’t. I remember him because there’s a trace of time-bending in me, but I’m surprised at myself for not figuring out who he was sooner.” The king shook his head with a dry smile.

  “Did you like him… me?” he wanted to know. For the few interactions between his father and the prophet, Xavier had the impression the pair didn’t get along. “I mean, you both seemed to fight a lot.”

  Jeremiah paused in thought before answering. “Xavier, I liked the prophet, but you must understand, there were ways he handled things I felt were a bit… ruthless.”

  Xavier felt disappointed. He didn’t quite understand why, but it felt as if his father was criticizing him. Well, he was, kind of. “What do you mean?”

  “I disliked how he handled you. He was too abrupt, too harsh.”

  Xavier thought back to his first encounter with the prophet. He could see what his father meant. Even he hadn’t liked the prophet much then, but there were other times he had been more comforting and helpful. However, the king wasn’t aware of those moments. They had been just between the two of them.

  “Now that I know his identity, I understand him and his actions better. I still don’t agree, but he didn’t have my guidance as he grew into a man. It is, however, comforting to know that you grew into a strong, just ruler without me.”

  “I won’t have to now,” Xavier whispered. “Abraham didn’t want me to. Even though your death wasn’t a catastrophic event, he knew I needed you. I’ll be a better king because of it. You’ll see. I’ll be even better.”

  The king squeezed him tightly in a bear hug just as the door sprang open and Loren and Ephraim raced into the room.

  “All right?” Ephraim asked the pair.

  “Yes. We’re unharmed, and the Dark King is dead. It’s over.”

  The generals visibly relaxed and sighed out the tension they had penned up in their taunt bodies. Loren stepped forward and ruffled Xavier’s hair.

  “Well done, little king.”


  Xavier smiled up at Loren.

  “Is the Key still safe, Loren?” the king asked.

  “Yes, not sure why, but those idiots thought we’d place the Key back into the vault. Of course, they found nothing when they broke in.”

  “Where is the Key,” Xavier asked, curious.

  Loren grinned. “On my mantle, in plain sight, but now that the war is over, I suspect the Key should be returned to its owner.”

  “Who’s that?” Xavier asked.

  Loren looked at the king with a knowing grin before looking back at the boy. “You, young sire. The Key is yours.”

  “Mine? Wait. Do you mean because it’s the King’s Key, it goes to me because I will be king someday?”

  “No, young sire,” Loren answered. “It’s your Key. You created it… or at least you will create it.”

  Xavier looked between the men. Both the king and Ephraim seemed to be just as confused as Xavier, which was some relief. He looked back at the tall general. “Loren, you’re not making sense. What do you mean?”

  With a sigh, he asked, “Do you know who the prophet truly was?”

  “The prophet?” Ephraim asked. “What in the hell are you talking about, mate? What prophet?”

  Xavier was shocked to see that Loren knew of the prophet. Ignoring Ephraim, he looked at Loren. “Yes. I do. Do you?”