“Wow, thank you, but I’m not sure I deserve all of that! We have a lot to discuss, but first, let’s eat a good hot meal that, as I understand, Lieutenant Blake’s group has prepared,” Jeremiah announced, and again the crowd burst into cheers and applause.
Once the hall grew quiet again, he continued, “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s have a moment of silence and prayer before the meal is served.”
Everyone bowed their heads, many kneeling to the floor, including the king. Xavier quickly did the same. Then he said a quick prayer of thanks, crossed himself, and stood, eager to eat something hot for a change. His father was one of the last to finish praying, but he guessed that being king gave him a lot more to pray about. Finally, Jeremiah crossed himself, stood, and took his seat.
The first meal at King’s Mountain was a modest one: hot rolls and a vegetarian soup since Henrick’s group hadn’t arrived yet with meats and other supplies. At least, it was hot and filling. As the group finished their meals, kitchen volunteers began collecting the dishes.
“Did you get enough to eat, son?” Jeremiah asked, rubbing Xavier’s back.
“Yes, sir! The soup was great! I’m so sick of beef jerky! If I never eat it again, I’ll die happy,” he responded, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his stomach.
His father smiled. “I understand what you mean. A man can live only so long on leathery, dried out meat,” he remarked, still grinning. “Well, we better get on with the meeting so we can settle in and get a good night’s sleep. It will be nice to sleep on something other than the cold, hard ground for a change. Which, I must admit, I was getting pretty sick of,” he replied, winking at Xavier as he stood.
The crowd in the Hall grew quiet almost instantly.
“Ladies and gentlemen! I would like to extend another thanks to Lieutenant Blake and his group for choosing to be the first arrivals and preparing this magnificent meal.” The people erupted loudly, and it was several minutes before the king could continue. “Now, the mountain is very capable of housing and supporting our needs, but we must work together to keep it running smoothly. No one is excluded from contributing to the good of the group. At the back table, there are sheets to sign up for jobs and chores. We will need cooks, custodians, gardeners, laundresses, tailors, teachers, miners, and much, much more.” He smirked at the indignant expressions on the children’s faces and watched as a few mouthed “teachers” in disbelief. “Yes, children. I did say teachers. There will be schooling.”
There was a loud collective groan from the children followed by light laughter from their parents.
“Now, some jobs are very demanding, whereas others are not. If you choose a less demanding job from the yellow sign up lists, then I ask you to choose a chore from the white pages. I repeat, no citizen over the age of five is excluded from choosing a chore or job, your king least of all. Aside from overseeing and maintaining defenses and security, I will also instruct all men ages sixteen and older in military strategies in the Grand Hall from one to three. Also, I will be supervising the boys’ dormitory once a week and teaching a Latin class. Aside from your studies, children, you too will assist in the upkeep of this facility. For two hours every evening, every child over the age of five will complete a chore of their choosing from the list on the back table. Your prince has already been assigned his chore. Xavier will be helping to sweep and mop the Grand Hall after dinner. So, as you can see, no one is excluded, and everyone will pitch in to help.”
Xavier’s head whipped up, and he felt his temper rising. “Father? How come I don’t get to choose my own chore?” he asked heatedly, using his telepathic ability. He would have preferred something else, and from the looks of it, it would take him all evening to mop the Grand Hall. But the only indication he received that his father heard his grievance was a brief pause and a sideways glance at him.
He stared indignantly up at his father as he continued with the announcements. It appeared that he wasn’t going to answer him. “Geez!” Xavier grumbled, throwing himself back into his seat and muttering a string of curses. When a few citizens near the head table stared at him, he crossed his arms moodily and sulked.
Ephraim was at his side in an instant, firmly taking him by the arm. “Young sire, please stand and follow me,” he whispered.
“Why?” he hissed indignantly.
Ephraim squatted to eye level with the boy and pinned him with an angry glare. “Because I told you to, Prince Wells. Now get to your feet before I throw you over my shoulder and carry you out,” he growled quietly.
Huffing bitterly, he stood, shoved in his chair with a bang, and stomped out of the hall with his father’s general on his heels. Once outside the hall, Ephraim grabbed him and spun him around, his face unmasked with fury.
“Master Wells, this isn’t an easy situation for any of us…leaving our homes…our city…we must ALL make sacrifices. But most of all, this has been phenomenally difficult for your father! As king, he is responsible for Warwood and its people, and the taking of his city and the lives lost as a result has taken a piece of him. He is responsible and therefore his guilt is beyond anything I could imagine, and I hope beyond anything you’ll ever endure. Now, stop acting like a spoiled brat and making things tougher than they need to be, or I’ll bare your bottom and spank you myself!”
Xavier ducked his head against Ephraim’s onslaught of reprimands. Finally, he whispered, “I…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…make things worse and act like…I…I’m sorry, sir. I just wanted the chance to choose my chore like everyone else, that’s all.”
Ephraim’s face relaxed. “I’m sure your dad has a good reason for choosing it for you. So, instead of throwing a tantrum, maybe you should ask him about it when the time is right.”
“Yes, sir,” he muttered, not meeting the general’s eyes.
“Now, I think your dad deserves to hear an apology. Why don’t we go back in and you tell him?”
“Yes, sir,” he responded.
When they entered the Grand Hall, Jeremiah was wrapping up the last of the announcements. “Now, I think it’s time for the adults to have a more detailed, serious discussion. Would the children please go with the adults standing at the back of the hall? They’ll show you the classrooms, gymnasium, and game room.”
“Xavier? Come here,” his father’s voice thronged firmly into his thoughts.
He tore his eyes away from the streams of children following Loren, Rebecca, and half a dozen other adults and looked instead at his father’s displeased, hard face.
“Father…I…I’m sorry. Ephraim’s already talked with me. Can’t I go with the kids?” he questioned silently.
“No, do as you’re told and come here,” he responded.
“Come on, X!” Court hollered, waving at him.
“Xavier, now!” the king warned aloud, his voice impatient.
“I’ll catch up,” he told Court and slumped over to his father.
The moment Xavier was within his reach, Jeremiah grabbed him and pulled him to stand in front of him. The king stood with his back to the crowd, but Xavier wasn’t spared from the crowd’s prying eyes. Many were watching as much as they could of the exchange between their king and prince.
“I do not appreciate your pompous, indignant attitude, young man. Your chore is necessary to ensure that our citizens view you as a humble, hard-working prince. They must see that even their king and prince are willing to pull their own weight without favoritism. That is why your chore was chosen for you. Now, I need to start this meeting. We’ll finish this discussion later. Please go with Loren and join the other children while I finish up here,” Jeremiah ordered, sending Xavier towards the door with a sharp smack to his bottom. To the casual observer, the act looked like nothing more than a fatherly playful smack, but to Xavier, it stung like a warning. He rubbed his backside, listening to the light snickers from the group in the hall as he approached Loren, waiting in the doorway.
When he stepped into stride with Loren, he held up his hand
to block yet another round of reprimands. “Please, Loren, don’t lecture me too. I’ve had an earful already.”
Loren smiled as he led him down the hall toward the gymnasium. “Yeah, I imagine so. Things will be a little different here, little sire. With everyone in such close quarters, every adult will be watching out for you kids and disciplining you as well.”
Xavier muttered, “Yeah, I’m figuring that out.”
Chapter 3
King’s Mountain
Xavier followed Loren into a busy corridor. Sir Blaire stood rigidly in the middle of the walkway, supervising the hall between the library and the gymnasium. A group of boys ran out of the gym and nearly collided with him.
“Oi! No running in the corridors! If you want to run around like ninnies, stay in the gym,” he chastised. One of the boys shot Blaire a dirty look, and he nearly came unglued. “Are you eyeballing me, boy? Don’t test me, or you’ll find your backside sore!”
“Xavier! Come on! You’re missing all the fun!” Beck called, grabbing his arm and hauling him into the games room where his friends surrounded a foosball table watching Court and Garrett’s heated game.
“Bloody hell!” Court shouted when Garrett scored and took the lead.
“Courtney Aaron!” his mother snapped. “Watch your language! There are small children present!”
“Sorry, Mum,” he groaned, rolling his eyes.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me, young man!” she bellowed, grabbing him by the ear and hauling him away from the game.
“Ow! Mum, I’m in the middle of …Ow…a game. Ow!” he protested.
“Hardcastle forfeits! I won! Who’s next?” Garrett bellowed.
“Me!” Beck announced. “Come on, little man. Let’s see what you’ve got!”
As his friends exploded with laughter and banters, Xavier saw Mackenzie Clarke standing off to the side and watching them. Mac’s father had aided Governor Yaman in his conspiracy and unwittingly helped William LeMasters invade and capture the kingdom. As a result, Timmins Clarke had fallen from grace and had been caned and demoted for his crimes. He was no longer an elite member of the prestigious Premier Royal Guard. Now, he held the rank of private in the regular Royal Guard. Even Mac’s best friend, Ken Calhoun, was gone. Ken and his family were traitors and had remained behind in the kingdom with LeMasters. Mac was alone. He couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. So, he approached the other boy.
“Hey, Mac,” he greeted quietly.
Mac went rigid as though he expected Xavier to thrash him.
“Relax, mate,” he soothed. “I just came over to see if you wanted to hang out with us.”
“I…I don’t think…they want me to,” he replied, nodding towards Beck and Garrett, who had paused in their game to glare at him.
“Yo! X! What’cha doing?” Beck asked.
Xavier didn’t answer, but turned back to Mackenzie. “Naw, if you’re with me, they’ll be okay with it. Come on.”
Slowly, Mac nodded and followed him back to the group.
“What do you think you’re doing, Clarke?” Beck challenged, stepping toward the other boy.
“Back off, Beck. I invited him,” Xavier interrupted.
“What? Why would you do something like that? Mac and Ken did nothing but make your life miserable!”
“That may be true, but he’s one of us now, an exile. He’s loyal to my dad and for that, I’m willing to give him another chance!”
Beck glared at Mac as though he could think of several other things he would rather do, but finally he nodded.
“Hey, you guys! Did you know they actually have a rugby pitch in this place?” Court announced, returning from his mother’s lecture.
“No way!” Garrett gasped with disbelief. “A rugby pitch? In here? You’re mental, Hardcastle. How is that even possible?”
“I’m serious! I heard Dad and Sir Blaire talking about it. It’s located on the garden level. Sir Blaire said that the facility custodian…Oi, did you know that four families have been living in this mountain for the past ten years taking care of the crops and keeping things in order just in case we’d ever need to live here? How weird is that? Can you imagine living your entire life in a mountain?”
“Court!” Beck spat. “The rugby pitch?”
“Oh, yeah. Right. The rugby pitch. Well, I guess it was supposed to be another garden, but the head custodian discovered that he didn’t need it. So he planted grass and made it into a rugby pitch,” he told them.
“Whoa! Let’s go see it!” Beck exclaimed, and the mob of boys raced out into the corridor.
“Ah, guys. How do we get to the garden level?” Garrett asked.
“Maybe there’s a stairwell or something,” Xavier suggested.
“Oi! What are you ankle biters up to?” Loren called.
“We were going to go and check out the rugby pitch on the garden level,” Court answered.
“Sorry, boys. Not tonight. The meeting should be over any minute, and then …” Loren stopped mid-sentence when the Grand Hall doors banged open and throngs of adults spilled out into the corridor.
“Okay, boys, into the gym,” he ordered, shooing them toward the door and following them inside.
“Okay, listen up, boys and girls,” Loren called over the laughter and ruckus. “First, you’ll need to put away the equipment you’ve dragged out. Then, I need all of you to find a seat on the gym floor. Girls on the left. Boys on the right. King Wells will be here shortly to speak with you.”
The children immediately swept into action. Xavier made his way with his friends toward the right side of the gymnasium. Robbie was several feet from him, sitting between Erica and a curly, blonde-headed girl. She sat silently, staring off at nothing in particular. She looked so sad. Her large, dark eyes mirrored the grief in her soul. Guilt swept through him like a frigid wind, and he struggled to push back the strong impulse to cry. As he rubbed his eyes irritably, he collided with a hard, unforgiving barrier and fell to the floor. An explosion of laughter surrounded him, and he looked up into Drew Hardcastle’s smirking face.
“You really should watch where you’re going, Your Highness. You could get hurt,” he teased.
He scrambled to his feet and glared at the older boy while rubbing his backside.
“Lay off, Drew!” Court growled, grabbing Xavier and pulling him away. “Forget him, Xavier. He’s a complete waste of space. He always does that to me, usually in front of Erica so that I look like a complete git,” he said quietly as they found seats next to Beck and Garrett.
When King Wells entered the room, there was a brief rustling as every child in the gym sat up taller and straighter. He whispered briefly to Mrs. Applegate before approaching the silently waiting children.
“Hello, children. I hear you’ve been enjoying the games room and gymnasium. I’m glad that it meets with your approval. However, it’s been a very long day, and it’s now time for bed. In order to maximize space in King’s Mountain, all children above the age of five will share common sleeping quarters or dormitories. There will always be an adult supervising the area; so if you need something in the middle of the night, the grown up on duty can help you. Now, the living situation in the mountain will be very different than what you were accustomed to in Warwood. Besides the obvious, one major difference is that if you choose to misbehave or cause mayhem…” the king emphasized the last word and looked pointedly at his son, “you could find yourself being punished by someone other than your parents. There’s a popular saying that it takes a village to raise a child. This will be our motto during our stay at the mountain. Every adult is responsible for you, therefore, every adult is to be obeyed and respected. If you do not do this, you will face my wrath. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sire,” the children chanted together.
“Good. Now, I will be in charge of the boys’ dormitory tonight, and Mrs. Applegate will be in charge of the girls. Would the girls please rise and follow Mrs. Applegate? She will show you to your d
ormitory so that you can prepare for bed.”
As the girls got to their feet and followed Lana, Loren shuffled up next to the king, whispered something in his ear, and nodded toward the exiting group. Voices gushed out around Xavier as the boys shifted in their seats on the floor and waited for further instructions from the king.
“It’ll be really weird living here, huh, Xavier?” Frankie whispered from behind him.
“Yeah. It’ll definitely be different.”
“Well, I think it’ll be awesome!” Garrett announced. “Like a permanent sleep over.”
“Yeah, right, Bracus. As long as you don’t mind having an extra two hundred boys in that sleep over,” Beck muttered. “There won’t be any privacy. Sounds like a nightmare to me.”
Sleeping in a dormitory didn’t bother Xavier. He agreed with Garrett. It would be a blast hanging out with his friends and being just one of the guys.
His father’s laugh drew his attention back to where he stood with Loren. From the looks of things, Loren was ribbing the king mercilessly, and Xavier found himself smiling along with the men. Then, his father laughed again, shook his head, and approached the waiting boys.
“Think that all you want, Jer, but I know what those looks mean! Besides, I think you’re glowing just a bit,” Loren called after him.
The king’s step hesitated, and his face reddened as he turned back to his general. “Glowing?” he choked out.
He nodded, his smile widening into an enormous smirk. “Yep. Glowing.”
“Don’t you have somewhere to be, Jefferson?” he spat playfully.
Loren’s laughter echoed off the gym walls. “Yep. Bed. Goodnight, sire,” he responded.
“Night, Loren,” he called, as his general exited the gymnasium.
King Wells turned back to the group of boys now chattering excitedly.
“All right, gentlemen. Let’s get you settled. Come with me,” he announced, waving the boys to follow him as he led them out of the gym and down the hall to a wide stairwell. “The level we’re on now is known as the hall level or level two. The level above us is the garden level. Vegetables of every imaginable variety can be found growing there, not to mention a full-sized rugby pitch,” Jeremiah announced, grinning at the sudden outburst of excited whispers. “The children’s dormitories can be found one level down on level three, and below that on the fourth and fifth levels are the adult chambers and residences. The infirmary and laundry facility can be found on level six, and all the levels below that are strictly off limits. You are not to venture anywhere near the lower levels. Understand?”
The Prince of Warwood and The Sword of the Chosen (Book 3) Page 2