by J. P. Sheen
“Oh, no,” he breathed.
A huge mob was streaming into the courtyard. They were gathering right underneath his window. Why his window? What would they do to him if they caught him?
Eselder had never seen a mob before. It was a terrifying sight. Hundreds of dirty, ragged peasants, men and women alike, were crowded together. Their faces looked possessed, lit by torchlight and hatred. In unison, they screamed, “Away with the monarchy! Away with the Crown! Away with the King!”
Eselder stared. He couldn’t believe he had actually wanted to know these animals.
I should go find my parents.
The thought occurred to him rather late.
Heavy footsteps thumped down the hallway outside. Eselder gasped, whirled about, and dove behind his curtains. The footsteps went by his door, but Eselder quickly realized his mistake.
“Royal filth!”
They could see him through the window!
“Pig! Dirty, stinkin’ pig!”
Eselder fled his hiding place. Rocks smashed through the glass, sending shards flying everywhere. Eselder fell onto his rear and stared stupidly at the sea of glittering fragments.
There was no barrier anymore between his ears and the mob’s frenzied howls.
“Liberty! Equality! Prosperity!”
Eselder trembled. Where were their soldiers? Why hadn’t they disbanded the mob yet?
“Death to Crown Heir! Death to the Queen! Death to the King!”
More footsteps pounded down the hallway.
If we have no guards…if the mob overcame them…or if they betrayed us…
He had to get out of here. He had to find his parents.
Eselder started for the door but froze when its handle began rattling. An angry fist pounded on the door, accompanied by muffled bellows. Slowly, Eselder backed away. What would they do to him if they broke in? The door had to hold.
But it did not.
A gun fired once, then twice. The door burst open, and four Liberteers stormed into the prince’s apartment, holding weapons and torches aloft. But it was their faces, red and sweaty and crazed, that terrified Eselder most.
The men squinted, their eyes adjusting to the dimness. There was nowhere to run. Eselder stood there dumbly as a pair of powerful arms seized him. He heard one of the Liberteers speaking from what seemed like a great distance away.
“’Urry up and do it, John! Then we’ll take the body to show the King! ‘Ee’ll know we mean business then!”
A squat man with overgrown sideburns stepped forward with an axe. Eselder finally understood what they intended to do. He thrashed wildly about as the axe lifted over his head to split open his brains.
“John, stop!”
The shout teemed with horror. The axe drew higher until it was poised to strike. Eselder froze, staring at the rusty blade.
“I said, stop!”
Down came the axe. It struck the ground right next to Eselder, who nearly swooned.
“Bring the light over, Tom!” The speaker was a lanky man with a thin, pitted face. “We migh’ve got the wrong boy!”
“And ‘ow can we be sure of that?” John demanded, his fingers twitching on his axe’s handle. Suddenly, the weapon swung back into the air. Eselder cried out, but his defender gave John a fierce shove. The axman fell back, nearly impaling himself.
“We can’t kill no one ‘til we know ‘oo we’re killin’!” insisted the thin-faced Liberteer, wrestling the axe from John’s beefy hands.
How reasonable, thought Eselder in a daze. Tom shone a lantern in his face.
“See?” demanded the lanky man, “Wha’ kind a’ prince dresses like that?”
“Shitfire, Richard, ‘oo gives a dem?” spat John, “Come on, let’s finish this!”
Ignoring him, Richard turned to Eselder, his scarred face disarmingly mild. “Come on, lad. Tell us ‘oo you are.”
Tell them who you are…
Eselder’s mind frantically whirled. He couldn’t think!
Who am I? Who am I?
“I’m a servant!” he blurted out.
“Bloody ‘ell, somebody finish this!” roared John.
“Shut yer mouth!” Richard roared back at him. Eselder quailed.
“It—the prince!” he squeaked.
Richard looked astonished. “Yer the prince?”
“No!” Eselder gasped, “I…the prince—”
“Calm down, lad. No need to be afraid,” Richard said soothingly. At those words, Eselder could have struck the man over the head with John’s axe.
“I…I h-heard…”
“’Erd what?” demanded Tom. He sounded exasperated. Eselder tried not to look at the man’s teeth, which were black.
“I heard...”
Eselder looked down at his patched breeches, his bare feet. It came to him.
“I w-was there…in the s-stables…the other boys were t-talking…”
“That’d be me boy Dick,” said Richard, Sr. sheepishly, “I’ll be ‘avin’ a word with ‘im.”
“Yes! Dick!” Eselder’s yelp was rather hysterical. “I kn-know Dick! We’re…friends! He t-told us about the Liberteers, s-so…”
His mind went blank.
“So?” Richard supplied.
“Um…I w-was in the s-stables, and Dick t-told us…h-he…”
“Spit it out, boy!” John screamed.
“So I tried to l-leave the p-palace, but the prince w-wouldn’t let me! I h-had to stay; I didn’t know what else to d-do…I didn’t w-want him to s-suspect anything…s-so I stayed for…f-for the cause. Then you came, and he b-bolted; I couldn’t s-stop him…”
Eselder made a last-ditch effort to save his life.
“I’m just a s-servant!” he howled. His wretched sobs sounded very convincing. The Liberteers exchanged glances.
“See?” Richard said to John, “We migh’ve killed our own.”
“I dunnow,” growled John. He stared at Eselder, bloodlust in his eyes. “What about ‘is accent, eh? Lemme see yer ‘ands, then, boy!”
Eselder cringed back. His faceless captor released him, but he did not move.
“Show me your bleedin’ ‘ands!” John screamed, hitting Eselder hard across the face. Richard shoved himself between them.
“If ‘ee’s the prince’s manservant, ‘ee ain’t workin’ in the kitchens or stable, clotpole!” he shouted.
“I am the prince’s manservant!” Eselder cried desperately, his tears streaming across a fiery red welt, “I s-swear it…please let me go!”
But John was still after his blood.
“So what?” the madman shrieked, “So ‘ee ain’t the prince? One body’s good as another! We’ll show it to ‘Is Majesty from a distance! ‘Ee won’t know the difference! I came ‘ere fer a body, demmit, and I ain’t leavin’ without one!”
“Tha’s enough, John,” said Tom firmly, still holding John’s axe, “Rich, we’ve got to leave.”
“’Ee’s got to prove ‘is innocence!” John insisted. His fingers scrabbled down Eselder’s arm, making the boy shiver.
“Enough!” Richard aimed his musket at John. The axman backed away from Eselder, hissing like a snake.
“Yer right, Tom,” said Richard, “Let’s get out of ‘ere.”
A wave of relief broke over Eselder. He couldn’t believe it. He was saved.
Then Richard addressed him kindly. “You can’t stay ‘ere, boy. You’ll just be mistaken fer the prince again.”
“’Oo ‘ee might well be,” spat John.
“You’ll ‘ave to come with us fer now,” Richard continued, ignoring John, “It ain’t safe to walk the streets alone neither…you can stay with me and me boy tonight.”
Eselder’s jaw plummeted in horror.
“No one’ll do you ‘arm, don’t you worry,” Richard hastened to reassure him. He turned to his fellow Liberteers. “But the guards promised an hour, no more. Besides, I think we’ve made our point to the King.”
His captor pushed him roughly forw
ard, speaking for the first time.
“Get goin’, boy!”
Eselder accompanied the Liberteers out of his apartment, feeling certain he was about to vomit. Had the Liberteers found his parents? Or had they gotten out in time? Were they safe? Were they even alive?
No! I must stay here!
But Eselder could think of no convincing reason why, especially with his mind spinning like a top. He was too frightened to argue with Richard, lest his would-be assassins start suspecting him again…though, sooner or later, they would see through his deception.
Eselder walked with his abductors through the palace corridors. John growled threats and curses the entire way, such that Eselder didn’t dare leave Richard’s side. They marched through the front doors and past the butchered stone remains of King Eselder the First on horseback, heading straight for the howling mob.
The mob was as diverse as it was terrifying. Eselder saw an old man brandishing a pitchfork, teenage girls with wild eyes and kitchen knives, and a pregnant woman shaking a firebrand. There was no mercy here to appeal to, should he be recognized.
Tom and the other Liberteers dispersed, but Richard grabbed Eselder’s arm and towed him along. Beads of sweat poured down the prince’s face. He looked around, terrified that he would catch sight of a familiar face…or rather, that they would catch sight of him and reveal to everyone just who was in their midst.
“Mrs. Sedgewick!” Richard shouted, waving.
A large woman squeezed through the crowd, snarling a warning at the men who laid their hands on her. On any another night, she would have looked motherly, like Eselder’s old nursemaid. Tonight, however, she looked ghastly, with her lacy cap askew and her meaty fist clutching a butcher’s knife.
“Found this lad in the prince’s room,” Richard explained, “’Ee’s a bit confused, ‘ad a rough time of it. Fer now, take ‘im back to yer place. I’ll come fer ‘im when our work ‘ere’s finished.”
Mrs. Sedgewick nodded, and Richard disappeared into the mob, leaving Eselder sick at the thought of meeting Richard, Jr. later on. The stable boy would not hesitate to identify Eselder; of that, he was certain.
The mob stirred. A moment later, furious peasants hurled stones and abuses at the red-coated soldiers racing into the courtyard.
I am saved, thought Eselder.
The redcoats formed a long line and knelt down. Then they aimed their long muskets at the mob. Eselder’s heart skipped a beat.
The soldiers fired.
Chaos ensued. People screamed as bodies slumped to the ground. A few furious Liberteers charged the soldiers, but most of them began fleeing toward the gates. Eselder ran toward the palace, but Mrs. Sedgewick dragged him back.
“No, ya don’t! Yer comin’ with me, boy! Our brothers will take care of them red devils!”
The brawny woman shepherded Eselder toward the palace gates. The very thing that had symbolized his imprisonment this morning now represented safety and security, and Eselder would have given anything to remain behind their bars.
But that was not to be.
A woman behind him shrieked. Eselder looked over his shoulder and saw redcoats advancing with guns uplifted. His heart knocked frenziedly against his ribcage, and he found himself pushing and shoving along with the crowd to get through the gates, anything to get away from those gleaming silver muskets. In the confusion, he managed to wrench his arm free from Mrs. Sedgewick’s grasp.
He ran.
With the panicked mob, Eselder rushed through the gates and down the street. When he got the chance, he broke free of the crowd and sprinted down a narrow alleyway. He ran, and ran, and didn’t stop running until he had put a great distance between himself, the soldiers, and the Liberteers.
Then Eselder halted, and found himself alone in the shadowy alleys of Kingston-town.
6
Lost In Kingston
Eselder stared down the dark street.
He had ventured into Kingston with his parents often enough, but he had always done so within a curtained carriage that kept to the main roads. He didn’t know his way around, and he certainly didn’t recognize this alleyway, which no horse drawn carriage could ever hope to squeeze down.
Rickety houses slanted so close together that barely any moonlight shone through. Their upper stories were later additions that threatened to collapse onto their foundations. It seemed a wonder they didn’t tip over altogether. Fortunately, every one of them looked forsaken. No doubt their inhabitants were out raising hell on the streets.
Eselder shivered. He was freezing. He had no shoes on his feet. His wet stockings reeked of feces, and his toes were numb.
These people are disgusting.
He wrinkled his nose, staring around helplessly.
I must find my way back to Kingston Court.
He couldn’t be very far. He hadn’t run such a long way.
If I can just get back to Kingston Palace, this nightmare will end.
He would simply retrace his steps. That’s what he would do.
What if I run into the mob?
Don’t think about it! No. If he kept his head and carefully retraced his path, it would take no time at all to reach Kingston Palace…no time at all.
With that thought firmly in mind, Eselder began picking his way back down the alley, agonizingly aware of every noise he made. He had no means of defending himself. What if he encountered pickpockets? Or hungry stray dogs?
Just as he was about to despair of ever finding his way out of Kingston’s back alleys, Eselder turned a corner and stumbled upon a street with several glowing windows. Light, and life! Gradually, the street widened, and the roads grew less pockmarked. Eselder hoped that that meant he was heading toward a wealthier district…
Which surely meant he was also heading toward the palace?
The street opened onto a large square with a running fountain. Eselder spotted many candlelit windows, and relief washed over him. See! It would all work out. Civilized folk lived here, lovely decent people who were sitting peacefully at home, not running around Kingston brandishing weapons and screaming for blood. Perhaps somebody here could help him.
Eselder stole quietly across the square, past millinery shop and then a chinaware shop. No commoner could afford these things. Eselder grew more hopeful by the second. He was in a respectable part of Kingston! Now he just needed to knock on a door and enlist the help of one of his father’s loyal subjects. Surely there would be many people eager to shelter the Crown Heir. He could stay here until tomorrow morning. Then, with an escort (or three or four), he would return to Kingston Palace. Perhaps he would send for the carriage.
But Eselder wasn’t the only one roaming the streets.
His ears barely picked up the Liberteers’ frenzied shouts before a band of them descended on the square like wildfire. Some of them started smashing up the well-to-do storefronts while their comrades looked on and roared approvingly. Men and women stormed into the shops and started looting the wares. Eselder caught sight of a raggedy woman tearing out of the millinery, loaded down with at least a dozen hats. Then he spotted several men disappearing into the china shop only to reappear a minute later, dragging along a portly fellow dressed in his nightgown. Eselder started and hurried forward. A second later, he froze in his tracks as the Liberteers threw the shopkeeper to the cobblestones and proceeded to ruthlessly beat him with their clubs and shovels.
Help him! They will kill him!
Fear rooted Eselder to the spot. At long last, the mob marched away to ransack another part of Kingston. The band of Liberteers abandoned their victim, leaving the poor crumpled form lying on the street amidst slivers of glass and china.
When he thought it safe, Eselder hurried forward and knelt down beside the shopkeeper. He grabbed the man’s wrist and felt for his pulse. Yes, he was alive!
Firelight spilled from the china shop’s doorframe.
“Get back, devil!”
Eselder scrambled back. A plump woman ran out of the
store and threw herself down beside her husband, shooting Eselder an ugly glare. A boy and a little girl appeared in the doorway, looking frightened.
They think I’m one of the mob.
Staggered, Eselder backed away as the woman helped her husband onto his feet. He would get no help from these people, and he didn’t deserve it after what he had done…or rather, what he had failed to do.
“Get away from here, or I’ll shoot!”
A young man appeared the doorframe, aiming a musket right at him.
Eselder fled the square.
Kingston was a wretched city. Jewel of Elioth indeed.
Eselder roamed the streets, exhausted, frightened, and freezing. Everywhere he stepped laid a puddle of filth. The stench of burning coal and human waste hung stagnant in the air. He would probably catch a fatal disease from this horrible excursion and die.
Yes, tonight had been an excruciating punch to the gut, a painful slap across the face. But at least it had effectively woken him up from his ridiculous daydreams! If he made it back to Kingston Court alive, he would never complain about his lot in life again!
If he made it back…
Eselder shivered. He was beginning to fear that he might not find his way back tonight at all.
He tripped over a furry lump, then gasped and jumped back when he realized what it was. A dog’s corpse. Eselder shuddered and, hearing the Liberteers in the distance, hid himself under a crumbling stairway. Listening fearfully, he backed into the shadows…and bumped into something soft and warm.
“Welcome, lad,” hissed a soft voice. Eselder whipped around with a startled cry. A scabby hand reached out of the darkness and into a sliver of moonlight.
“Got anythin’ on ye, boy?”
The hand made a sudden grab for him. Eselder dodged it and collided with another body.
“’elp us out, lad…”
Groping arms emerged from the shadows. Eselder squeaked, recoiling from the slew of wriggling fingers. He saw a metallic flash and lashed out blindly. A howl disrupted the night silence, and metal clattered against stone.
