Tales of Tibercon: The Princess and the Pirate

by Monica Hahn

  “Which was your favorite place to visit?” Arati asked, as she passed the last cookie to Catarina.

  “Everywhere,” Catarina said. “There’s always so much to do and see in any new place. Or, as my mother would say, plenty of new ways for me to get into trouble.” She laughed.

  “And what do you think of Tibercon so far?” Arati asked.

  Catarina hesitated, and Arati smiled and shook her head. “You don’t have to answer that.”

  “It’s just different than I expected,” Catarina said.

  “In what way?”

  “I had just always heard that it was so clean and polite and safe, but…” She paused again.

  Arati sighed. “It was that way once,” she said. “Not so long ago, in fact. But, we’ve had some trouble recently.”

  “The king getting ill and it being perceived as a sign of weakness, especially with no named heir,” Catarina said. “It’s a shame.”

  Arati looked at her narrowly, and Catarina just smiled. “My father is here with a rather unusual message from Gilden,” she said. “But I’m not supposed to talk about it.”

  “Then you shouldn’t,” Arati said, making a mental note to be present when the new Gilden ambassador was received. She was curious. But it really wouldn’t be proper to question Catarina about it, so instead she asked Catarina to read her palm.

  “As long as you won’t take it seriously,” Catarina said. “It’s just for entertainment, especially when I do it.” She took Arati’s hand between both of hers and held it for a moment as she made a low humming sound. Then Catarina turned Arati’s hand palm up and traced the lines quickly with the tip of her right forefinger.

  Arati fought back the urge to giggle as it tickled, but Catarina was obviously concentrating, so she tried to remain still.

  Catarina began tracing the lines again, slowly this time. “Your love line is broken,” Catarina said. “It looks like you had a great love and then lost it.” She frowned a little, then traced her hand further. “It looks like you should have another chance,” she said. “That’s odd. Most people don’t.”

  Arati felt no urge to giggle now. Her hand trembled slightly.

  “Your life line is nice and strong. You’ve been through hardships but remained unbroken. Your familial lines are interesting—usually they start out stronger, but yours end that way.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It usually indicates that you will have more strong relationships later in your life instead of earlier, as most people do.” Catarina stopped and turned her own hand over, tracing the same line for herself. “It almost matches mine,” she said. “I haven’t seen one on anyone else.”

  There was a knock on the door that shattered the spell that Catarina’s words were weaving in the stillness. The two broke apart, almost guiltily. Duncan poked his head in, and deferentially suggested that it was time to return Catarina to her father.

  Arati agreed, but insisted that Catarina feel free to visit anytime she would like to, which Catarina happily agreed to do. Arati spent some time after Catarina had left, staring at her palms, hoping for answers, but seeing nothing decipherable.

  *****

  Arati was seated beside her father in the throne room when the ambassador from Gilden was announced. This would have just been a lucky coincidence, if Arati hadn’t made certain that she had accompanied her father practically everywhere for the last day and a half. She had missed the original introduction, but that was always just a formal presentment in any case. Arati wasn’t sure what she had expected Catarina’s father to look like, but this wasn’t it. He was slim and well-dressed and handsome enough, although he was blond instead of dark, but his expression was crafty and his words were calculated. His name was Tuder, and he expressed to the king that he had something very sensitive to discuss. The king ordered the room cleared, but after everyone else had left and Saras turned to Arati, Tuder explained that it might be of interest to the princess also. Saras relented, and she stayed.

  Tuder self-importantly cleared his throat. “What would your Royal Majesty say if I were to tell you that the kingdom of Gilden has recently come into possession of a nineteen-year-old young man who might possibly be the missing crown prince Horatio?”

  The room swayed a little, or maybe Arati did. The air felt suddenly heavy and she struggled to breathe. Was it true? Had Mikel finally been found? She turned to look at her father, who looked as stunned as she felt. But then he recovered and began to rattle off questions.

  “What exactly do you mean that he might possibly be? Does he have any proof? What’s his explanation for being absent so long? And what do you mean by possession of?” Then Saras looked around the throne room and frowned. “Let’s not discuss this here.”

  Arati and Tuder followed the king to his cabinet room. The guardians at the throne room back exit showed a flicker of surprise at the unexpectedness of their little group, but they stood to attention and then fell in behind to take up their posts at the entrance to the much more private room. Saras sat at the desk, and impatiently gestured to his daughter and the ambassador to sit opposite him, which they did. Then he leaned forward and fixed intent eyes on Tuder.

  “I understand that this must raise a lot of questions,” Tuder said.

  “Is he safe? Is he well and healthy?” Arati burst out, dying to know the important things.

  Saras flickered his gaze over to her, and she impatiently bit her lip, knowing that her father’s questions were more important to him.

  “You asked about the possibility,” Tuder said, his words as precise as that of an attorney as opposed to a diplomat. “Gilden is not making a claim either way. We are simply offering you the opportunity to decide for yourself. There is enough evidence to suspect that it is worth bringing to your attention.” Tuder paused to clear his throat again. “As for the young man’s explanation, his story is this: at age twelve he had spent a considerable amount of time down at the docks. In so doing he had associated with a number of rather disreputable characters. Although he attempted to conceal his identity, one of these characters had realized who he was and then proceeded to take him for ransom. Before even a demand could be conveyed, however, the enterprising young man managed to escape. It was during this endeavor, however, that the next misadventure occurred. He sustained a blow to the head and fell into the sea. Luckily, his consciousness was restored in time to escape the peril of drowning, but the trauma of that event apparently caused memory loss, and he awoke with only the thought of being his alter ego, or that of a common dockrat. He joined a ship’s crew as a cabin boy, and sailed away. He remained in this state of amnesia until twenty-six days ago, when he was injured again in much the same way, as he attempted to escape custody in Gilden for a trifling crime. At that point, his true memory returned and he proclaimed his identity to the magistrate. Because of his striking resemblance to the last known likeness of Prince Horatio, his claim was deemed possible if unlikely and it eventually made its way to the king of Gilden. After some deliberation, my king determined that you should be the judge of the young man’s veracity, and I was given the honor of conveying the message to you.”

  “That is certainly quite a tale,” Saras said, his tone neutral.

  “That poor boy!” Arati said. She didn’t know what to think. It was almost too unbelievable to be true, but she couldn’t deny the hope that sprung up when she considered the possibility that she might have her son again.

  “Did he offer any specific proof?” Saras asked.

  “He did not,” Tuder said. “He, naturally enough, knew quite a bit about Tibercon in general and, it seems, castle life in particular, but it would be quite remiss of him to not have studied up on such things when embarking on such a claim. He did say that he was willing and eager to answer any questions that either of you might have for him.”

  “Can’t we just meet with him?” Arati asked. “That seems the simplest way to resolve the question indisputably.”

  “As to
that,” Tuder said, clearing his throat. “The young man is currently being held to answer for his—.” He paused here, and trailed off delicately.

  “His trifling crime,” Saras said. “Am I to understand, then, that my possible grandson is in a common prison?”

  “Oh, no!” Tuder exclaimed, his horror at the thought genuine. “As soon as his possible connection to you was discovered, he was moved at once to a more elegant accommodation. Naturally, since his identity has yet to be confirmed, he is still being protected by the government. Which is another reason that we would very much appreciate this matter being resolved, since if he is not who he claims to be, then we would prefer to treat him in a less accommodating manner.”

  “I can imagine,” Saras said. “I think it is in the best interest of both of our kingdoms, however, to do as my daughter suggested. Let’s get this young man here where we can evaluate him. He can be transported and secured by your government. Whether or not he is who he claims to be, though, he should be spending the rest of his life in Tibercon, either as the king, or as a criminal for impersonating royalty.”

  Tuder tapped a long finger against his chair arm. “I don’t believe that Gilden is prepared to consent to extradition at this point.”

  “What do you suggest, then?” Saras asked. “We use you as an intermediary and ask specific questions?”

  “Exactly,” Tuder said.

  “That doesn’t sound like it’s the most efficient method possible to resolve the matter,” Arati said, demurely.

  “Nevertheless, I believe that is what Gilden is prepared to offer at this moment.”

  “Is there anything that might improve that offer?” Arati asked. “Any inducement Tibercon could make? After all, Gilden, for all of its natural advantages, lacks the superior coastline that enables Tibercon to enjoy the bulk of the island trade.”

  “Gilden has recently discovered something that it would be interested in being able to distribute to the world market,” Tuder said. “Xanuite crystals.”

  “Is that so?” Saras asked, with real interest. “A fresh find?”

  “We began mining two months ago.” Tuder looked proud of his kingdom, and no wonder. Xanuite was incredibly rare, and it was thought that the last of it had been mined centuries ago. A crystal that was highly prized for its suspected protective and magical qualities, it had verifiable medicinal uses and had always commanded a high price. Even a small amount of newly discovered xanuite could elevate the wealth of a kingdom exponentially.

  “And Gilden would like to offer it at Port Sinbad’s market.” Saras didn’t even make this a question.

  “It would,” Tuder said.

  “That is something that we would certainly consider,” Saras said. “Why don’t you plan on extending our extradition request to your king with the understanding that in so doing we would be happy to facilitate your export, and along with that we can also send some questions to your princely prisoner to help ascertain his identity. Would tomorrow suit you?”

  Tuder stood and bowed. “I will be back then,” he said.

  “And please also extend our deepest appreciation for the delicate manner in which this matter is being handled,” Arati said.

  Tuder bowed again, and left the room.

  Arati turned to her father as soon as the door shut behind the ambassador. “Do you think it could be true?” she asked.

  “I was much more inclined to believe in the slight possibility before Tuder presented Gilden’s self-serving case,” he said. “However, selling xanuite here is beneficial to both of us, so that’s not an impediment at all. The whole tale sounds far-fetched, which might mean that it’s more likely to be true. I would like it to be true.”

  Arati had seldom heard her father speak with such simple fervor as he uttered this last sentence. She smiled sadly. “As would I.”

  “It will be interesting to hear what Minister Zanth thinks about it,” Saras said.

  Arati knew that she shouldn’t say it, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. “Are you sure you should tell him about it?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just that the kingdom seems unrestful lately. Do you know who to trust?”

  Saras stared at her in disbelief. “I certainly know that my Minister of Defense, who has served and advised me loyally for years along with his father before him, is someone that I trust,” he said.

  “Of course,” Arati said. “I apologize. I wasn’t questioning your judgment.”

  “Just my powers of discrimination!”

  Arati curtseyed and left, knowing that saying anything else would make things worse. Her father wasn’t about to hear anything she had to say about Zanth, and she had no real proof to offer. Until she did, she had best say nothing at all, or she’d lose all the traction that she’d been so carefully gaining all these years.

  Chapter Eight

  Saras requested his Minister of Defense as soon as Arati left. Although his daughter had shown some semblance of intelligence lately, he was still reluctant to discuss strategy with her, especially on a matter this personal to both of them. She was already too emotional about it, and perhaps he was also. Zanth wouldn’t be emotionally invested at all, and he did have some connection to Gilden, as his mother came from there, so he might be able to offer extra insight. As for Zanth being disloyal, well, Saras never expected loyalty from anyone, although he preferred to keep that a secret.

  Since Arati had mentioned it, though, he would make some discreet inquiries. Zanth and his father before him had served Saras well, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. And Saras had never forgotten that Zanth had subtly brought up his care of Arati while she was unwed and pregnant when he was angling for a promotion. Zanth had received the promotion, because it was deserved, but Saras remembered. Sometimes these days it was easier to remember the late past than the immediate past. It was all too easy to pretend to be as mentally incapacitated as he was expected to be.

  Today he was feeling sharp, or at least as much as he did now. Which was good, because he would need all his faculties with this new development. It would be interesting to see what Zanth said, even if he wasn’t completely loyal. At times the advice of those who might be working against one was as useful as the advice of those who only had one’s best interests at heart.

  Zanth came promptly and stood at attention until Saras indicated a seat. Saras scanned his face sharply, but found nothing other than serene competence.

  “I’ve just had an interesting discussion with the new Gilden ambassador,” Saras began, and then proceeded to minutely detail the previous conversation, skipping only the end part of Arati’s accusations.

  Zanth sat there in silence after Saras finished. “Unbelievable!” he finally said.

  “Exactly!”

  “And yet…”

  “Exactly.”

  “It’s not as though a simpler story wouldn’t have been easier to invent.” Zanth shrugged. “What do you think, Your Royal Highness?”

  “I think that we wait and see if our questions are answered satisfactorily. It does seem like an elaborate and unnecessary hoax for Gilden to invent just to broker an export deal that we would have been eager to make in any case. If Gilden is behind it, what would the motive be?”

  This didn’t seem to require an answer, so Zanth gave none. “Would you like me to travel to Gilden to take a look at him?” he asked. “I well remember young Horatio.”

  “You would,” Saras said. “You dealt with his antics often enough. But, no, I need you here.” He wasn’t certain, but he thought Zanth seemed relieved at this, which was strange as he’d been the one to suggest it.

  “He was an impressive boy,” Zanth said. “I can’t imagine that he wouldn’t have been ingenious enough to survive anything, even an adventure such as that.” Then he frowned slightly. “Perhaps I could ask some additional questions,” he said.

  “That’s a good idea,” Saras said, approvingly. “Why don’t you plan on adding yo
ur letter to ours?”

  “Certainly. Do you think that Gilden will extradite him for you if you do decide you’d like to see him?”

  “I imagine they will eventually,” Saras said.

  “I suppose it would be quite premature to make an announcement at this stage.”

  “Definitely. Although it would certainly be advantageous to be able to ease everyone’s mind about having an heir again. It might be worth it just for that.”

  “But if you decide that he’s a fraud then everything goes back to being uncertain,” Zanth said.

  “Even worse than before after raising hopes,” Saras said. “Of course, that’s if I do decide he’s a fraud…”

  “Having an heir would settle the kingdom.”

  “I am curious to meet the boy,” Saras said. “Grandson or not, we might have something to discuss.”

  *****

  Zanth left this meeting with a sense of relief. It would be advantageous for Tibercon to have an heir that was present. And it seemed that Saras was considering the possibility. He might decide that this young man in Gilden was the next king, whether or not he truly was Horatio. Or Princess Arati might marry someone, even Zanth. And there was always the possibility of a military coup brought about by civil unrest, if it came to that. . . One way or another, Tibercon deserved to have a capable hand at the leadership helm, and Zanth was willing to do whatever it took to ensure that outcome.

  To that end, the next day he wrote a letter to the young man that was claiming to be Horatio, after reading the questions written by Saras and Arati. He included in his a warning to the possible impostor, that he was to answer every question correctly, or he would absolutely be exposed as a fraud and have to deal with the consequences. Then Zanth wrote a quick note to his aunt in Gilden and asked Tuder to see that it was delivered also, which the ambassador agreed to do.

  *****

  Two months later, the ship to Gilden returned, bearing the all-important answers. Every personal memory and detail that was asked for was answered correctly. Saras and Arati went through them together and neither could find anything to suggest that the writer of the reply wasn’t Horatio. The only odd thing was that they were transcribed, as apparently the man going by Horatio had recently injured his right wrist. So, there was no use in comparing the hand writing sample with anything from earlier. They were convinced enough, however, to continue negotiating with Gilden for his release.