Tales of Tibercon: The Princess and the Pirate

by Monica Hahn

  It took a few minutes to explain why Mikel was actually Arati’s son instead of her nephew, but Catarina accepted this with the quick grace of someone that had already reached their limit of discoveries recently.

  “Oh, the impostor!” Catarina said, on to the next issue. “What do we do with him when he arrives?”

  It took Arati a moment to register who Catarina was talking about. She was a little ashamed of herself that she had forgotten Rayan already. “He already arrived,” she said. “We knew he wasn’t really Mikel. And then Zanth stabbed him to death.” She shuddered. “It was horrible.”

  “You saw?” Tarik asked.

  Arati nodded.

  Tarik uttered an oath. “I wish Zanth was alive so I could shoot him again,” he said.

  “Wait, Zanth is dead? You killed him?” Catarina asked Tarik.

  “I shot him,” Tarik said.

  “I killed him,” Arati said.

  “You have been busy,” Mikel said, who had been listening to all this, fascinated. “I remember Zanth, but he was a guardian when I left, and particularly hard to slip away from.”

  “He became the Minister of Defense, and then plotted against us,” Arati said. “He was behind all the recent turmoil and decline. A truly despicable person.”

  “But he’s no longer a concern if he’s dead,” Catarina said.

  “True. What do we do now?” Arati asked Tarik.

  They all turned to look at him. Tarik was frowning slightly, in concentration, his booted foot resting on the lower rung of his desk chair. He smiled at them, and Mikel quickly identified it as his going into battle grin. “Let’s get this kingdom back into order,” he said. “I don’t want anything to disturb our wedding.”

  Arati went over and tucked herself against his side. “I’d like that,” she said. “And let’s do it quickly.”

  Catarina looked at the two of them and pursed her lips. “Mikel, I’m confused,” she said. “I thought that the princess was here because she’s your mother.”

  “She is,” Mikel said, his voice filled with laughter. “Apparently Tarik is my father.”

  Catarina stared at the older couple open-mouthed, then broke into unsteady laughter. She finally took a deep breath and recovered some control. “I told you that you two were a lot alike!”

  Mikel quirked a brow. “You said that we had obviously spent too much time together, we seemed so similar,” he corrected.

  Catarina shrugged. “That too.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The first step in their plan was for Mikel to reveal himself to his grandfather. He’d been reluctant to do this, which was more about interrupting his honeymoon than anything else, although he wasn’t particularly looking forward to a reunion with his grandfather. But, it needed done, so he had his wife and mother find him some appropriate finery and he paid a visit to the local barber, after which he looked much more respectable.

  Catarina couldn’t stop staring at her husband. She loved his dashing, slightly disreputable seaman look, but there was something to be said for having his strong jawline exposed, and his hair trimmed and styled.

  Tarik laughed at Mikel when he found him frowning at himself in the mirror as he carefully adjusted a lock of hair.

  Mikel threw the comb at him. “You won’t find it so amusing when it happens to you!” he said.

  Tarik stopped laughing and snorted. “What makes you think that—”

  “My mother,” Mikel interrupted. “She bought more than one size of these uncomfortable clothes.”

  Tarik looked more anxious than Mikel had ever seen him before and began to edge out of the room. Mikel laughed once he was gone. Catarina shook her head at him. “You shouldn’t have warned him,” she said.

  “Oh, it’ll happen whether he’s prepared or not,” Mikel said. “My mother will make sure of it. He may protest, but I think he would do anything for the woman he loves, eventually. After all, I would.”

  Catarina clapped her hands. “I would hope not,” she said.

  Mikel finished fidgeting with the jeweled clasps on his short cape and stood straight, spreading his arms out. “What do you think?”

  “Very princely,” Catarina said, approvingly. “The king will be impressed.”

  It was Mikel’s turn to snort in disbelief. “I think it will take more than dressing me up like a peacock to impress that cantankerous old man,” he said. “Is it time?”

  “It’s time, so quit stalling,” Catarina said, checking the grandfather clock. “Go.”

  He strode toward the door of the castle guest bedroom that he had been using as a makeshift dressing room, then looked back at his wife who hadn’t moved. “Aren’t you coming?” he asked.

  Catarina bit her lip. “Are you sure you want me to?”

  “I want you by my side for every moment of my life,” Mikel said. “And this is going to be an important one.”

  Catarina went to him and took his arm, speechless, and with her eyes suspiciously glistening.

  *****

  King Saras didn’t know why his daughter wanted to see him, but figured it was probably about the wedding, which he was as anxious to have settled as she was. They had been arguing a bit over how soon was seemly, however, as Saras wanted a huge celebration to make certain that all the surrounding kingdoms, and Tiberon itself, were aware that the kingship was passing from his feeble hands. Although he would deny it to his dying day, which probably wasn’t that far off, having a son-in-law would be a huge relief. He would never have thought to choose a former pirate, but he trusted that Tarik would be able to restore the former glory to his beloved kingdom, especially after witnessing his efficiency when dealing with Zanth. And Arati had actually agreed to marry him, so there was that. Maybe she had never outgrown her youthful fondness for pirates. He smiled sourly at the thought.

  He commanded Arati to enter at the knock heralding her arrival, but stopped in the middle of his curt greeting when he saw that she was escorted by a couple. He recognized the female first, the daughter of the Gilden ambassador that had been running loose in the castle as Arati’s companion until she had mysteriously disappeared from the marketplace. Arati had to be relieved to have her back. He thought of asking what had happened to her, but when he looked at her dapper companion, all thoughts of the troublesome female instantly vanished. He looked exactly as Horatio must as a grown man, and Saras felt his hand tremble, especially when the young man stepped forward with a firm tread and said, “Greetings, Grandfather.”

  Saras stood up suddenly from behind his desk, and then felt blackness overtake him. When he came to he was lying on the settee by the door, with his head pillowed in his daughter’s lap.

  “That didn’t go as I had planned,” he heard his grandson say, in a much deeper voice than he remembered.

  Saras opened his eyes and allowed himself to be gradually helped to a sitting position. He had no desire to show weakness, but he feared fainting again. “Horatio?” he asked to confirm.

  The dark head shook. “I answer to Mikel now,” his grandson said. “It’s my pirate name.” There was a slight hint of laughter as an undercurrent.

  Saras threw a side glance at his daughter and saw that she was smiling.

  “Well, whatever you call yourself, you’re a pirate?”

  “He’s reformed,” Catarina said. “Just an honest seaman now.”

  “And why are you here for this family reunion?” Saras asked.

  Mikel put an arm around Catarina’s waist. “Because she’s my wife,” he said. “So she’s family.”

  “Did you come with Tarik?” Saras asked Mikel, ignoring Catarina now.

  “I did.”

  “And why did you only show yourself now?” Saras meant to sound accusatory, but there was enough genuine longing in his voice that he could see Mikel soften involuntarily.

  “I’m sorry, grandfather. I didn’t know if I’d be welcome.”

  “Of course you’re welcome in your home,” Saras said, and he mean
t it. He couldn’t recall exactly everything with the circumstances of Horatio leaving, but it was possible that he was partly at fault. “Your mother was worried sick.”

  Arati looked surprised at this. Whether it was because she hadn’t thought that he had noticed or cared about her feelings when Horatio left, or because of his casual mention of her as Horatio’s mother, he didn’t know. But Saras was feeling too old to play games anymore, and he doubted that the news of the relationship would be a shock to Horatio, and it wasn’t.

  “I’m sorry to have worried anyone,” Mikel said. “That was never my intention. But, when you threatened me and my mother, it became an impossible choice with no good options.”

  Saras waved a hand. “There will be no more talk of it,” he said. “I’m just relieved to have my heir back where he belongs. Are you in league with the pirate, then?”

  “I’ve been serving with Captain Tarik as his first mate,” Mikel said.

  “And now you’ll be his king and his stepson,” mused Saras. “I imagine that will require some adjustment.”

  “It probably will,” Mikel said, flashing a broad smile. Saras shook his head, to clear the image of Tarik’s same smile from earlier. All pirates must look alike.

  “I’m tired now,” Saras said, surprising himself by admitting it. “But I should like to talk again soon.”

  Mikel came forward and knelt in front of Saras, lowering his head. Saras put out his hand briefly and touched the thick dark hair, then groaned and leaned back.

  Mikel rose to his feet, the fleeting moment gone. Arati looked worried. “I’m going to have a doctor check on you,” she told her father. Then she quickly ushered them all out.

  Saras sat there, and he could feel tears start to course down his cheeks. Horatio, or Mikel, was alive—and here!

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Later that week, Tarik and Arati were sitting together on a settee in the drawing room, ostensibly to go over the plans for the royal ball the next night that King Saras was insisting on hosting as an event to enthrone Mikel as the new king. Mostly, though, they were just cuddling.

  “It’s so strange to have you here with me again,” Arati said. “I keep thinking that you’re just another daydream.”

  “Did you dream of me often?” Tarik asked, pulling Arati closer to his side. “Because I did of you.”

  “Did you?”

  “Every day. I always thought that your memory would fade eventually, but it never did. Although it pales in comparison to the real thing.” He tucked her head against his neck and leaned his chin on the top of her head. “And to think that we had a son this whole time.”

  “Who you probably have spent more time with than I did,” Arati said. “Thank you for taking such great care of him, by the way. Although,” this was tinged with a bit of asperity, “you whipped him?”

  “It was a deserved punishment,” Tarik said. “I can’t believe he told you!”

  “It was a passing comment,” Arati said. “Apparently it wasn’t a matter of great importance to him. Which only makes me wonder what else happened,” she said, darkly.

  He took her finger and guided it across a groove right over his heart. “Do you feel that?” he asked.

  “Yes. What is it?”

  “A scar from the closest I ever got to dying,” he said. “It was a sword strike meant for our son.”

  Arati turned and hugged him, and he smiled when he heard her sniffle. “It’s fine,” he said. “It missed my heart and we won that skirmish. And Mikel has saved my life countless times, too. We made a very good team,” he said.

  “Will you miss it?” she asked. “All the adventure and danger?”

  He held her tighter. “I have the feeling that there will be plenty of danger and adventure here. Although, I’m wondering if I’ll be useful now that Mikel will be king.”

  “I’m sure you’ll think of something,” Arati said, looking worried. “You aren’t thinking of leaving, are you?”

  He laughed. “You? Never!” He changed the subject. “Your father looks very unwell.”

  “He is,” she said. “He’s been hanging on from sheer stubbornness. I think he’s secretly relieved to have you and Mikel here to help.”

  “It’s a well-kept secret if he is,” Tarik agreed, thinking of several discussions that he’d had with the old man in the last few days. He kissed the top of her head.

  “Are you excited about the ball?” she asked.

  “I’m thrilled at the opportunity to dance with you,” he said. “We’ve never danced.”

  She got up and held out her hand. “Let’s not wait. Dance with me now,” she said, starting to hum a tune.

  And he laughed and did, although their serious waltz soon turned into a bit more of a lively jig. He was just dipping her at the end of their impromptu exercise, when Catarina came upon them.

  She clapped her hands. “That’s the happiest I’ve ever seen you!” she said to Arati.

  Arati was breathless and flushed and beaming. “Tarik returned the piece of my heart he left with,” she said. “I was missing it.”

  “Speaking of your romantic love story,” Catarina said, “When is the wedding? My husband is a bit anxious about you two being married.”

  Arati smiled a bit at Catarina, once again, talking about her husband. That did seem to be her favorite topic. “The king wants a huge ceremony,” Arati said. “We’re trying to negotiate it to something simpler and sooner.”

  “The ball sounds like a lot of pomp and circumstance,” Catarina said. “Perfect for a wedding!”

  “That’s not a bad idea,” Tarik said. “After all, I imagine a very similar guest list. Of course, the announcement was going to be made then about Mikel’s miraculous return, so we could be taking his spotlight.”

  “Please do,” Mikel said from the doorway. “You’re welcome to it.”

  Catarina ran to him and smiled. “Where have you been?” she asked.

  “Meeting with my grandfather about who to appoint as the new Minister of Defense,” he said. “There doesn’t seem to be any viable candidates. Either they’re appointees of Zanth, and therefore we’re not sure they can be trusted, or they’re too inexperienced to lead. If only I knew of someone that I could trust implicitly, that had a history of leadership, preferably with potentially volatile men.” He winked at his mother.

  “Pirates have always seemed like the very definition of volatile to me,” she volunteered, smoothly.

  Catarina caught on. “Tarik the Terror never had any trouble leading them that I know of,” she said. “I guess there was that one time, with the storm, but I’m sure that could be considered an extenuating circumstance.”

  Tarik narrowed his eyes at her. “Barring any troublesome lasses upsetting everything,” he said, turning to Mikel, “I feel I would have the qualifications you’re looking for.”

  Normally Mikel would have taken umbrage at this unflattering reference to his wife, but not only had Catarina instigated it in this case, but he was too genuinely excited at his father’s offer to worry about the slight it came with. “You’ll be my Minister of Defense?” he asked.

  “If you truly want me,” Tarik said. “I always meant to be respectable again someday.”

  The men shared a handclasp over it.

  “I can’t imagine the king will be pleased, though,” Tarik said.

  Mikel snorted. “He’s who suggested it,” he said. “I was too stupid to even consider it, assuming that you’d have better things to do, but my grandfather insisted that I ask. I think he’s afraid you might leave, and he doesn’t want that.”

  “He wants me under his thumb,” Tarik said, not sounding very concerned about it.

  “He wants you helping to protect his kingdom,” Arati corrected. “And he’s right. Tarik the Terror seems more terrifying when he’s actually in residence. With you as the Minister of Defense, any foreign threat will be nullified, and any domestic uprising will never materialize. My father’s good at chess.
”

  “He is,” Mikel said. “Someday I hope to be as good a player as he is. While still retaining my soul, preferably.”

  They all laughed.

  Mikel turned to his uncharacteristically silent wife. “The new ambassador from Gilden arrives today to take your father’s place.”

  “I heard,” Catarina said. “Good riddance!”

  “Catarina!” Arati frowned at her.

  “Well, he did disown me.”

  Arati nodded. “He did. But, he’s still your father. And what about your mother? You don’t want to lose her, do you?”

  “No,” Catarina said. She looked at Mikel, who nodded.

  “I’ll fix it,” he said.

  She smiled at him, then made a slight pouting expression of distaste. “But, I don’t want him to know that I had anything to do with it!”

  “Your name will never be mentioned, my sweet wife,” he promised, kissing her hand, and looking at her adoringly.

  Tarik cleared his throat. “On the subject of wives,” he said, turning to Arati. “Are you serious about getting married at the ball?”

  “Absolutely!” Arati answered. “Surely the king will have no objections?”

  “Well, if the current king does, the future king doesn’t, so you could do it at the end instead of the beginning in that case,” Mikel said, grinning.

  *****

  Tarik wasn’t accustomed to waiting when there was action to be taken, so he went straight to King Saras after this conversation. Arati had offered to accompany him, but there was something he would like to ask the king about that he didn’t want his fiancée to be there for, so he declined her offer. It wasn’t difficult for him to get an audience with Saras these days, as the king was being very accommodating. For all of the king’s faults, nobody could ever accuse him of not loving his kingdom, and that was something that Tarik grudgingly admired.

  “What is it?” Saras asked, looking up as Tarik entered.