The Disinherited Prince

by Guy Antibes

  The disappointment that he felt continued to bother him, but now with the information that Kolli had just given him, he felt bad for his mother. He recognized that he often thought of his own survival without regarding hers. Would she be disappointed in him? He didn’t think so. He vowed to have another conversation with his mother when he returned to the castle.

  ‘Thank you for your frank answer,” Pol said. “It has helped me.”

  Kolli smiled at him, but he could see a touch of sorrow. “Don’t dwell on castle politics while you are out here. You are remarkably observant, so turn that skill to our present situation.”

  The compliment surprised Pol, and he really appreciated her words, because as far as he could tell, she meant it.

  The long column finally halted mid-afternoon for a break and to give the soldiers a chance to drill before entering into battle, which Kolli had heard they would encounter the next morning. Kolli, Paki, and Pol practiced in a little clearing out of sight of the soldiers.

  Kolli pulled a package out of her saddlebag and tossed it to Pol. “Something from Valiso Gasibli and Kelso Beastwell.”

  Pol untied the string and unrolled a set of ten throwing knives, each one having a thin sheath. A little note popped out.

  “What does it say?” Paki said.

  Pol read it first. “A little extra protection. Don’t hesitate to use them,” he said to Paki.

  “I also have a set for you, Paki.” She tossed a smaller bundle to Paki. “Valiso said that you haven’t mastered the throw since you’ve been injured.”

  Paki unrolled his and looked for a note, showing a bit of disappointment on his face. “No note?”

  “Be happy you got those.”

  Pol looked at Kolli. “Do you have any of these on you?”

  “A girl has to keep her secrets, My Prince,” Kolli said with a smirk on her face. “I can give you some idea where to put these. They are easy enough to hide.”

  Pol pulled one out. He noted the style of the knife. The knife was flat. The hilt fit his palm. The leaf-shaped blade was sharpened on both sides. He stood and threw it into the center of the bole of a nearby tree.

  “You’re accurate enough,” Kolli said, getting up to inspect his throw, “but make sure you aim for flesh. You don’t throw hard enough to get through metal, and against leather, it won’t penetrate deeply.”

  Pol nodded. “That’s what Val said.”

  Paki threw his knives at another tree. He missed the trunk with one of the knives and had some difficulty removing the blades. “I don’t have the same kind of problem.”

  “You certainly don’t,” Pol said, laughing.

  ~

  Pol could feel the tension in their air when he woke up. It seemed that half of the camp was already awake. He walked through the soldiers sharpening their weapons or writing final letters that would go into bags that one of the wagons would carry, to be sent if they died.

  He shared in their nervousness. Kolli had told him that in the fury of war, strange things happened. Pol’s grandfather had died in a flurry of arrows from an unexpected direction. Pol wondered if the arrows were from Taridans or North Salvan archers. Pol and Paki checked each other’s armor and re-cinched their saddles.

  Pol heard riders approaching him, and he turned to look up at General Wellgill and his staff.

  “Stay among the wagons, My Prince. It is not unknown for the enemy to attack the supply wagons; however, we are close to a town and a few villages, so their loss won’t be critical to us. I doubt if you will be attacked, but be prepared.” The General took a long look at Kolli and nodded to her. “Take good care of your charges,” he said before turning and riding back to the head of the column.

  “Mount up,” Kolli said.

  Pol wondered what the woman thought about playing nursemaid to two boys going into an actual battle. He closed his eyes and thought about patterns, and ended up concentrating on what kind of patterns would be a threat. He couldn’t predict what the Taridans would do, but he could picture what Earl Caster might attempt.

  He wished he knew what the battlefield ahead looked like. Pol hadn’t attended General Wellgill’s last meeting the previous night since his participation was limited to staying with the wagons. He mounted and moved his horse next to Kolli’s.

  “We should be looking in all directions,” he said to Kolli, who nodded. “I can concentrate to the right. You can look towards the left, and Paki can look behind. Does that sound right?”

  Kolli gave him the ghost of a smile. “That works for me.”

  That wouldn’t hurt, since Pol felt an attack would likely come from a flanking position. He intended to use his magic to locate anyone lurking on either side.

  The column began to move forward, and soon Pol could see smoke up ahead above the trees. He hoped that the North Salvan units would still be functional by the time they arrived to close with the enemy. He had no idea what kind of information the General had received from his scouts.

  The road widened, and Kolli positioned them within four wagons driven in a diamond configuration, one in front, one in back and two on either side. Pol felt hemmed in, but there were openings between the wagons to exit if he needed to. He looked at Paki and nodded nervously. His friend looked as frightened as Pol felt.

  Why did his father insist on his going north? He had no function other than to be an impediment to the General, but then Wellgill had pretty much ignored him.

  A woman rider rode to the rear alongside the soldiers, and as she passed the pace increased. She arrived at the wagons.

  “Fighting up ahead. The forces we are to join are under duress, but mostly intact. We are to move forward with speed.” She passed the message to the very last wagon and turned to ride into the woods on the left.

  Pol asked Kolli, “Do you know her?”

  “I do. If I hadn’t been called to the castle it might have been me passing on the message. Now she’ll be ranging through the woods on that side, looking for the enemy.”

  “That won’t help us if the Earl’s men are waiting for us.”

  She nodded. “It won’t.” Kolli turned her horse around and rode alongside the last wagon and pulled out two small shields. She had them ride out of their protection and stopped on the side of the column.

  “Another surprise gift. This is from your Mistress Farthia. She didn’t want you burdened with them until you were in battle. The straps are adjustable so you can carry a shield with your arm or wear it on your back.”

  Pol took the thing from Kolli and could feel the weight of it on his arm. “I can’t hold this up for long.”

  “Then back it is. Wear it like a backpack.” She adjusted the straps and helped Pol put it on. The shield was short enough to just clear the saddle.

  Paki took his and threaded his arm through the strapping inside. “I’m good with it this way. Where is yours?” he asked Kolli.

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ve got extra armor on, just like you. Any more, and I won’t be able to fight.”

  Pol felt like a turtle with the shield on his back, but he lacked the strength to fight for long from his horse. He worked his arms and found the shield didn’t restrict his throwing arm very much.

  They caught up to the wagons and resumed riding within their diamond of rolling protection. The soldiers had begun to pull away, but the wagons only increased their speed just a bit. Kolli pulled out her sword and Paki did the same. Pol made sure to locate the easiest throwing knife that he had, one of the two at the top of his right boot.

  As they continued, Pol heard the roar of battle in front of him. The wagon drivers had taken out swords or strung bows that they made readily accessible. Pol began to monitor the woods on his side. He closed his eyes trying to figure out the pattern of the trees and began to focus on the trunks. He opened his eyes, still able to sense the trunks. He didn’t notice anyone within his range, which being in the center of the path of the army, didn’t extend too far into the woods.

  The
sounds of battle became louder, and the front wagon called a halt. Kolli told them the wagons wouldn’t advance until commanded. Pol could feel tension building inside. His palms began to dampen, and he felt exposed sitting on his horse beside Kolli and Paki.

  He looked around at the anxious faces of the drivers and the cooks and quartermasters who rode alongside. A few nervously held their weapons, while others paced alongside their wagons.

  “What do we do?” Paki said.

  “Point your shield towards the woods and try to be as patient as you can. I’m as nervous as you. I’ve never had to wait like this before,” she said. “It’s easier to ride through the woods than it is to sit exposed.”

  Pol could see a look of frustration, not fear, on her face. He concentrated on the woods again, and four spots of color appeared within range on Kolli’s side. Pol couldn’t detect anything on the right.

  “Possible invaders on the left,” he said. Now he wished he didn’t wear a shield on his back as his focus turned past Kolli to the woods.

  “Movement,” one of the men on the wagon said.

  “They are ours,” another driver said.

  “Be prepared,” Kolli said.

  Just then Pol sensed faster moving dots in his mind on his right. “Invaders on the right! They are closing quickly.”

  Pol kept his back to the right, using his shield to protect Kolli as well as himself. He heard a thunk at the same time that something pushed him forward. He was sure an arrow had struck his shield. Another whizzed past his helmet.

  “We’re under attack!” Kolli said.

  “No, we’re not,” a driver said. That’s our men.” He gagged as an arrow caught him in the throat, throwing him from the wagon.

  “Down, all of you!” Kolli said. “They are after Prince Poldon.” An arrow clipped her arm, but it didn’t penetrate. “Off your horses,” she said.

  Pol frantically tried to locate the invaders in the woods, but fear had gripped him, and his ability to locate anything faded as his anxiety grew. Another arrow buried itself in the side of his shield. He could feel a splinter strike his neck.

  He drew his sword as nine men emerged from the woods. The four men on the left were unmounted, but the faster moving dots proved to be mounted men. Pol recognized Sir Northbell.

  Pol pulled out a throwing knife, and as the knight began to close on the wagon, he threw the knife into his neck. The knife buried itself underneath the knight’s chin. Sir Northbell gurgled, clutching his neck, and fell off his horse.

  Pol drew another knife and found the neck of one of the soldiers on the left, running through the opening made by the first wagon. He didn’t have time to check on his friends as he kept drawing knives and accurately threw the first four.

  His breathing began to labor, and he began to hear his heart in his ears again. Pol could sense himself losing strength. He turned to see a soldier raise his sword to strike Paki. Pol quickly found the pattern and tweaked. The soldier jerked backwards and up, as if a giant hand had grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and tossed him towards the wood.

  Pol felt himself begin to black out. He had a knife in his hand and threw it feebly at an attacker. Through hazy vision he saw that he had distracted the man enough for Kolli to run him through. Pol lost all strength and dropped to the ground. He struggled to roll off his back, impeded by the shield and scuttled underneath a wagon, where he struggled to stay conscious amidst the battle.

  A new fighter entered the fray, and the attacking soldiers began to thin. He vaguely heard the cheers of the drivers as the battle ended.

  Pol shook his head as he was dragged by the feet inside of the diamond. Someone had led the horses out, but one seemed to have been killed. He tried to focus on the bodies, hoping that Paki and Kolli weren’t among the dead.

  The spout of a wineskin was thrust in his mouth, and Pol fought to clear his vision. His gasping had begun to slow, and his heart finally stopped filling his head with sound of pumping. He closed his eyes to concentrate on calming down.

  “Are you all right?”

  Where had Pol heard that voice before? His mind began to clear. Valiso!

  He blinked his eyes open. “I am very, very tired, but you should be at the castle.”

  “Do you want me to return?” his former bodyguard said.

  “No. We won, didn’t we?”

  “I’m sorry I was a little late. I was unavoidably detained by fighting more of these soldiers before they reached you. It looks like I arrived in time to keep them from accomplishing their mission.”

  Pol struggled to stand. “Sir Northbell?”

  “Dead,” Kolli said. A driver was winding a bandage on her upper arm. She had blood running down her face, but her voice seemed normal.

  “Paki?”

  He heard his friend’s voice from the other side of the wagon. Pol knelt down and looked underneath. Another person was bandaging his leg. “I took an arrow in my leg. It didn’t go deep since it bounced off of my shield. Don’t look at me like that. You’re bleeding, too.”

  Pol put his hand to his neck and felt the stickiness of blood. “A splinter from my shield. Help me get this off.”

  Val pulled Pol to his feet and loosened the straps. Three arrows had struck his shield from the back. Only the stubs remained. The one that hit the side still stuck out. “Mistress Farthia saved my life,” he said, more to himself than to anyone.

  “All of you were lucky. After the shock, the soldiers on the wagons fought, once they realized that they were targets of their own people. Two of them died,” Kolli said. “Just rest a bit.”

  Pol sat back down and leaned against a wheel. “When will this end?” he said.

  “Probably never,” Val said. “Malden and I thought it would be better for me to track you rather than ride with you. I’m glad I did. You detected the attackers soon enough not to be overwhelmed.”

  “We were overwhelmed, anyway,” Kolli said. “Or didn’t you notice?” She kicked the leg of her dead horse after she got up and walked outside inspecting the damage. She shortly returned and presented Pol with six knives. “You were accurate with five,” she said.

  “I don’t know if I was even conscious with one of them. I lost my energy.”

  “Not before saving me from a deep, deep cut,” Kolli said.

  Pol sat for a bit, and then Val helped him up and assisted him as he walked around the wagons, inspecting the carnage. “I counted nine.” Pol said, looking down at six bodies. One of the attackers was still alive after being slammed into the trees by the force of Pol’s magic. No one mentioned his act, and Pol didn’t bring it up. “Two got away?”

  Val nodded. “Two of the mounted men. All those on foot were killed except for the one that we found at the tree line. The three dead mounted men were all part of Earl Caster’s officer corps. I can’t see how General Wellgill can ignore this.”

  “Grostin won’t be caught,” Pol said. He felt hollow inside for he knew that his brother would not face the justice he deserved. Three nobles had died this time. Two, it appeared, by Pol’s knives. All he remembered was throwing his knives at exposed flesh. His mind cleared a bit. “What of the battle?”

  Val looked down the road. “It’s over. I’m pretty sure the General prevailed. Perhaps you’d like to visit him?”

  Pol put on hand on his hip and another on his forehead. “I just don’t have the energy.”

  ~~~

  Chapter Thirty

  ~

  AFTER PERSUADING GENERAL WELLGILL that Pol had seen the campaign closely enough, Val and Kolli took Pol and Paki back to Borstall. Kolli hired a wagon to transport Paki, whose leg wound didn’t allow him to ride a horse very well.

  At least they were able to stay at inns every night on their way back to the castle. Pol had another nice scab on his neck to show his mother. Kolli felt best with her arm immobile, and Paki’s leg had improved to the point that he was able to ride the last day. His friend boasted about his prowess in battle, but Kolli ha
d said that Paki had gone down with the arrow in his thigh shortly after Pol had blown the soldier away with his magic and had spent the rest of the battle poking at the feet of the attackers.

  Val hadn’t taken Pol aside to ask him about his magic, so he thought that Val didn’t know he used magic and he felt ashamed that the act had incapacitated him, just like every other time when he tried to do too much.

  Pol looked upon Borstall Castle with trepidation. If Grostin had so aggressively tried to assassinate Pol in the North, then what would stay his hand when Pol was so close?

  “You don’t look very happy to return to Borstall,” Kolli said.

  Pol couldn’t help but sigh. “I’m afraid I’ll only be fighting off another assassination attempt. Perhaps I should just give up and let them kill me.” Pol really didn’t feel that way, but he wanted a bit of sympathy, and Kolli would be more likely to give him some than Val.

  “You can always go on the offensive,” she said.

  “No, he can’t,” Val said from behind them. Had he been enhancing his hearing? “King Colvin tolerates the siblings’ misbehavior, but he looks at Pol as a temporary fixture, and if Pol strikes back too hard, he’ll have Pol quietly put away.”

  “He wouldn’t!” Kolli said.

  Val nodded with his eyebrows raised. “Think about what has happened so far. Did the General execute Earl Caster? No, he took away his command, but the Earl still lives for leading an assassination attempt against a member of the royal family. Events are stacked against Prince Poldon.”

  “What if I abdicated my rights to either throne?” Pol said. “Then my siblings wouldn’t have any reason to attack me.”

  “Talk to Malden about that,” Val said. “I’ve already said too much.” He didn’t respond to any more of Pol’s questions on the subject all the way to the castle gate.

  Pol said goodbye to Paki at the stables, and both Kolli and Val helped carry his armor to the classroom where Pol had learned all about knives. He had regained his strength, so he felt that he could carry the rest of his things to his rooms, but the pair of bodyguards insisted on helping.