by Mary Vee
A shooting star blazed across the sky. He wanted an adventure, where he could fight and protect the people of Aerlis, one that took him far away from boring kingly work. He sighed.
Tradition caused the village fires not to burn in memory of a beloved fallen king. Tomorrow the pots would blaze in honor of the new king, Gilbert. Shortly after the sun rose, Lord Chancellor Matthias would crown him king before the entire kingdom.
He raised his arms toward the sky. “How could you leave me, Father? I don’t know how to rule.” He waited a short time for the response that never came.
A mist blanketed the moon’s glow. Gilbert went back to bed and tugged the curtains closed. He slipped into a fitful dream where dragons the size of mosquitoes swarmed into his room and carried him off to a wide, open field. He reached for his bow and arrows. A lot of good his weapon did against those tiny creatures. The little monsters flew close to his ears with their annoying high-pitched hum. They swooped in to attack his face, arms, and neck with tiny bursts of fire. He smacked at them, hitting himself. Suddenly the noise stopped. The mini dragons disappeared like popped bubbles.
He sat up and found himself on a bed of prickly thistles. As he squirmed to get away from the tiny thorns, a shadow, the shape of a large dragon, crossed in front of the moon.
The beast hovered in the white moon’s beam and searched the ground like an eagle. It’s green, luminescent eyes clearly fixed on Gilbert, even from afar. “Young King,” it said. “We have great need of you. If you’ll help us, we’ll give you what you want. We can give you knighthood.”
How he heard the words from a creature so far away he had no idea. “Who are you?”
“We are not the dragons you fear. We are of another realm. Your grandfather’s empire is weakening. Help us reunite the land as it once was.”
“I don’t understand.”
“There isn’t time to explain all that is needed to know,” the dragon said. “Help us. Join our endeavor. You are the only one who can save the kingdom.” The dragon disappeared.
The sky remained dark except the moon’s glow and the star clusters to the east. Gilbert walked to a small patch of dirt and looked at the vast sky again. A large, emerald dragon flew in front of the constellations. The creature’s flight path wove behind the brightest one. On two occasions, the beast attempted to fly in front of that star only to be tossed aside as if swatted away. On the third attempt, a burst of radiance lit up the entire sky for several long blinks. When the light returned to normal, the creature had vanished.
Giant thistles sprang up on the horizon like the weeds they were, growing closer to him by the second. Little emerald creatures flittered above the field like fireflies. The plants grew tall, towering over trees and multiplying at an unbelievable speed.
Gilbert ran in the other direction, seeking refuge. In the near distance, he saw a small hill with a cave chiseled into the side. He ran toward the shelter, stopping for only an instant at the entrance. A green glow shone from deep inside and sweet music echoed. That voice and the gentle melody soothed him. He’d heard it somewhere in his past. Drawn to the song, he walked deeper into the cave.
Rugged walls reached to a high, dark ceiling. The glow from farther back in the cave illuminated colorful life-sized drawings, which appeared to tell a story. A black substance like paint or chalk had smudged them. He reached out to touch the pictures but stopped when a raspy voice called from deeper in the passage. “Gilbert,” the voice said. “We wish to save your grandfather’s empire. To do so, we need your alliance. The offer won’t last much longer.”
He followed the sound. “Who are you? Why would I join when I don’t know who you are?”
He walked farther into the vast cave until reaching a fork. The glow shined from the tunnel to the right. He followed it.
“Do you wish to be a knight?” The raspy voice echoed.
This creature failed to gain his trust. He reached for his weapon. Like many dreams in his past, what he needed most, like his weapon, had vanished. He answered the voice, “Yes, I want to be a knight. You seem to know this since you asked. Now, tell me who you are. Show yourself.”
“We are the Keepers of the Kingdom. Without your alliance, all will be lost forever.”
A swarm of tiny dragons flooded the tunnel and flew over his head like bats. He shielded himself with his arms, crouched, and ran back to the entrance.
“Come back. You must join us.” The voice called. “We can protect you and your kingdom.”
“Wake up.” The Chancellor’s voice sounded from the doorway.
Gilbert opened his eyes. The curtains snapped to the side. Rays of sun burst into his sleeping space. Matthias’s face wrinkled with a bright smile. “Congratulations. Today shall be your crowning day.”
Gilbert rubbed his eyes. “How can you be wide awake this early in the morning?”
“A good night’s rest I suppose.”
Gilbert opened his mouth wide and yawned. “Wish I had one.”
Matthias picked up a hunter-green tunic from the chair across the room. “Let’s not wallow our day away. There is much to be done. Here is your tunic. Do you want to eat here, in your chamber?”
“I’d rather return to knight training and have my parents back.” Gilbert slipped the tunic over his head and saw the chancellor’s frown.
“All right, Matthias. I’ll do my duty. What news do you have?”
Matthias sauntered across the room to the fireplace, rolled up his sleeves, and stirred the coals. “Don’t worry about the kingdom, yet. Focus on the coronation.”
“Stop protecting me. How can I do my kingly duty if you don’t tell me what’s happening?” He paced in the stillness of the room. “My life is a mess. I need to count on someone.”
The fire burned brightly again, warming the room. Matthias rubbed his knobby hands together over the flames. “Very well. I will tell you. The royal court discussed the fate of the kingdom early this morning.”
“Without me?”
“Hear me out. They’re convinced doom is imminent now that your father is dead.” He faced Gilbert. “They’re fully aware you’ve chosen to devote time to training as a knight over your studies.”
Gilbert plopped down on the window seat and stared at the village. Citizens poured into the streets, bustling about while opening shops. “Father was supposed to live another two hundred years. I might have been prepared by then. Do you think Aerlis will be destroyed?”
“Aerlis is in dire need. The situation is bad, but this is not your doing.” Matthias joined him at the window. He slid his sleeves back down. “The trouble has been coming for some time. Slowly. Deceptively. I have seen a gradual decline in the kingdom’s prosperity over many years. Proof that troubled times have crept into our land. I honestly have no idea what caused the change.
“Your job, sire, is to turn the course of destruction into one of revitalizing the kingdom. When you accomplish this task, you will win the favor of the people. Are you willing to do that?”
Chapter Five
The steward delivered a food tray and set it on a table.
Steam rose from freshly baked bread. Clusters of plump juicy grapes sprawled across the plate. Chunks of yellow and white cheese towered in a pile to the side. Gilbert’s stomach growled. He grabbed a hunk of bread and sank his teeth into the soft, delicious loaf. “This is so good. There’s plenty, Matthias. Please, have some.” He reached for a cube of cheese.
“No. No thanks, sire. Shall I brief you on the coronation while you eat?”
“Yes, that will be fine.” He gulped the drink already poured in his cup.
“Very well.” Matthias pulled a chair near the window. “The coronation time has been set. It will begin at noon followed by a grand celebration in which…”
Gilbert tuned out the boring details. Someone would guide him at the right time. He plucked grapes off a cluster and stuffed four into his mouth at once.
“You’ll be expected to dress in the royal…�
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An arrow soared past the window. Gilbert leaned against the ledge to see who practiced. Unfortunately, the archers were on the other side of the wall, hidden from view.
“Perhaps you prefer not to know what will take place this afternoon, sire?”
Gilbert sat back in his seat. “I’m sorry. Please continue.”
“As you wish, sire. When the crown is placed on your head you must…”
Gilbert stared out the window at the open spaces inside the castle called baileys. At the far bailey, Ben and Charles chased Sybil and Daniel in a game of tag. He smirked when Charles tripped and fell over Daniel’s leg. He wanted to be down there living his youth. His friends were the ones who would get the call to fight dragons. Not him. They’d have all the fun while he was stuck following royal protocols. If only mother’s baby had been born. He’d gladly give up the crown.
Matthias groaned as he stood. “That about wraps it up. Are you ready?”
“Ready?” Gilbert faced his father’s devoted chancellor. “Of course.” He waited to be told what to do.
“I’ll return in an hour.” Matthias walked a slow, stately gait out of the room. Gilbert stood, sensing the chancellor’s many years of high position in the kingdom. “Do try to be here when I return. Your attendants will prepare you for the ceremony. I suggest you remain close by if you must venture.”
“I’ll be here.” Gilbert turned back to the window and leaned on the sill. The squires had left. Usually, they practiced their archery in the bailey on the other side of the castle at this time. It wouldn’t take long to dash down there and shoot a few arrows with his friends before the ceremony.
He walked to the door and looked right, down the main corridor. Two guards stood there. They’d tell Matthias if he went that way. He tiptoed to the left toward the wing his parents kept off limits. Family and other trusted guests stayed in those rooms.
Last week, the servant Katia darted by his chamber in that direction. Servants frequently came to answer a call from one of the royals, so her presence wasn’t suspicious. Still, he was curious where she went. He’d followed her into the west wing through the corridor, around curves, and through connecting chambers. Her near silent feet and quick steps caused him to lose sight of her.
That night, he searched for hours and concluded she must have slipped away in a hidden passage because she never returned. Neither was there a staircase down that wing. If he hadn’t been busy with the tournament, he would have looked again these last few days. The information would not only be a great tool for him in the future as king but also now to sneak down to the bailey without a guard.
He walked deeper into the once forbidden wing to the place she’d disappeared. Two doors stood on the left side of the corridor and none on the right. He lifted the bolt and pushed the door. The hinge screeched a high-pitched warning. He quickly shut it. The second one was locked.
Across the corridor was a wood-paneled wall. Two of Angelico’s less famous paintings hung about three feet apart. A small wooden table stood between the canvases. Gilbert pressed his hands on the wall and searched for signs of a secret passage. A seam in the wall perhaps. There was nothing. He turned back to the locked door. She couldn’t have gone in there. He would have heard her use a key.
Again, he slid his hands along the wall around the paintings, tipping the masterpiece. There he discovered a small, round metal disc painted the same shade as the wood and hidden behind the picture frame.
In his excitement, he cheered out loud.
Double-timed footfalls echoed from down the corridor. “Who’s there?” The voice of a guard boomed.
There was no place to hide. Gilbert silently ran farther down the corridor, turned the corner then peeked back at his pursuers.
Two guards came into view with swords raised. “Who’s there?” They opened the squeaky door and stormed inside. “Clear,” one guard said. “Check farther down there.” The door screeched as it closed. He tested the locked door and left it. Their footfalls clomped closer to Gilbert then suddenly stopped. “Did you notice the canvas back there?” the guard said. “It was tipped.”
“Nope,” the other one answered. “Don’t worry. Probably sloppy servants not tending to their duty.” They walked back to the painting. “Nothing out of the ordinary about this. Just knocked to the side a bit.”
They opened other doors. “All right, let’s check up ahead then go back and give our report.” Their steps echoed closer to Gilbert.
Hiding from them brought the same thrill he’d experienced in squire training. If they found him, the worst they could do was force him to return to his chamber for his safety. Gilbert's heart raced for adventure. He slid along the wall to the next doorway and wedged himself into the recessed space, pressing his back hard against the wood. He barely fit into the tiny alcove. A knob brushed against his hand. For a blink, he considered turning it before changing his mind. With his luck, the hinge would squeak.
The footfalls stopped. “I don’t see anyone down there. Let’s go back.”
“Right,” the other replied.
Their steps faded down the hall.
Gilbert waited a moment before peering around the corner. He didn’t see them.
He’d done it. He’d successfully hidden from the guards for the first time. Gilbert bolted back to the painting, tipped it to the left, and pressed the metal disc.
Chapter Six
From behind the wall, a faint mechanical whirring sounded ever so faint, that had Gilbert not listened closely and had his hand pressed on the wall, nothing would have been heard.
The entire panel slid to the left with a gentle swoosh, exposing a dark space containing a spiral staircase that led down to what, he didn’t know. His jaw dropped. He looked from the hidden panel to the dark space then back at the door. All his life he’d guessed, he’d even hoped a secret passageway existed somewhere in the castle. And there it was.
Katia had disappeared that night when he followed her. It only seemed logical she slipped into here. Where or why she went, he didn’t know. But if this passage really led her outside, then why hadn’t Father told him about it? This wing hid many secrets.
He stepped onto the landing, excited to meet with his friends and shoot a few arrows before the coronation. Wanting to remain hidden, he reached to close the door, but the wood had disappeared inside the wall, and there wasn’t a button or metal disc in the landing to press.
Down the stair hung an unlit torch. He grabbed it out of the holder and carried it back up, intending to light it with the torch in the corridor. The whirring sound echoed through the wall as his left foot touched the top step. The panel slid across the opening, closing off the space.
“Wait.” He lunged for the door, turned sideways, and still didn’t fit through the escape that lessened by the second. He clawed at the moving panel only to have the suction pinch his fingers. The exit shut like a coffin lid.
Light vanished from the hidden space. His fear of utter darkness rose within as if trapped in a deep cave where boulders blocked the entrance.
He groped the emptiness until bumping into a wall. His fingers slid up and down the surface until sensing a rectangular flap near the opening. Ah, the button was hidden in there. He peeled open the flap and fingered the inside space, finding nothing but a rectangular hole. He pushed and pulled, searching for a trigger. There was nothing.
Adjusting to the lack of light was impossible. The space had become unbearably dark. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He could be trapped for a long time. Matthias would kill him when he found out.
Gilbert ran his hand along the wall and followed it to the banister. A sticky, wet substance latched onto his face. He swiped his cheeks and spit out the nasty taste. He stretched his tunic sleeve over his hand and wiped his face and tongue, hoping the substance didn’t belong to a poisonous spider.
His foot dropped down when he stretched his right foot forward. Down twenty more steps, the handrail guided him until he touched a fl
at surface. He raised his arms in front of him, like a blind person might, took three steps then touched a wall.
Gilbert slid his hand up and down and side to side over the surface. There wasn’t a seam for a door, but the wall led him to the right where it turned ninety degrees. He’d pay a great reward for a lit torch about now, even give up shooting arrows with his friends to learn the way of escape.
The attendants would be in his room by now. The guards alerted to search for him. The staff ordered to help. His heart pumped faster and faster as he groped the surface for a door.
Had this stairwell been designed as a means of torture? A guard ordered to stuff offenders in here then not let them out until the bones piled too high? He inched forward until touching the banister framing what seemed to be an extension of the landing and half expected to find bodies.
The training he’d received as a knight taught him to never give up. Always explore in search of a solution. He tightened his grip and stepped on what should have been more landing, but his shoe never made contact.
The floor vanished beneath him.
He floundered for something to grab hold of or break his fall only to touch more empty darkness. Down, down he tumbled farther and around the next flight of stairs, bumping into the rail and banging his arms, legs, and back. It seemed to never end. Down. Down. Crashing and banging uncontrollably until at last, he smacked into a solid mass that stopped the fall.
Fire blazed through his left arm and right ankle. He tried to move them but couldn’t. He lifted his head and heaved a deep breath to stop the pulsing headache. In the stillness of the moment, he closed his eyes and lay where he fell, unable to wiggle free from the bottom step pressing into his back. “Can anyone hear me? Hello? I need help.”
How long he’d lain there dozing and waking he didn’t know.
Squeak. Squeak.
High pitched noises from below woke him.
Hiss. Hiss.
