The Prince of Warwood and the Fall of the King (Book 2)

by J. Noel Clinton

  “Dude! You didn’t just push me,” Xavier spat good-naturedly, pushing the smaller boy back.

  “Shut it, you two.” Beck hissed. “We don’t want to wake him up before we’re finished.”

  Nearly twenty minutes later, the boys had several complete sets of patio furniture, three erected street signs, several strings of Christmas lights, and four mailboxes strung across the lawn.

  “Do you think he’ll even notice?” Xavier blurted, stifling a chuckle.

  The boys burst into laughter, and Beck gestured wildly with his hands to quiet them down. “Hush! You’ll wake the dead.”

  “It’s not the dead I’m worried about,” Court retorted, before bursting into loud laughter with the rest of the boys.

  “Jeez! Shut it, you idiots! Come on! Let’s get out of here! I’ve got plans for the rectory.”

  The group tumbled into the sleigh, giggling. Garrett snapped the reins and began to bellow out “Silent Night.” For some reason, the group found the song hilarious beyond words and collapsed into hysterical laughter while Beck persistently shushed them.

  By the time the troupe arrived at the church’s rectory, they were all bellowing out the lyrics to “Silent Night.” Garrett pulled the sleigh to a stop and grinned at Beck, who was shaking his head.

  “You guys are thick! Now, will the lot of you respectfully shut it so we don’t get caught vandalizing sacred ground!”

  Again, everyone burst into barely contained laughter. Beck rolled his eyes and hopped out of the sleigh.

  “He’s right, guys. Settle down. Here, choose your weapons,” Court announced as he dumped the contents of a sack onto the bed of the sleigh.

  Court had come prepared! There were rolls of toilet paper, several bars of soap, bottles of food coloring, and four cartons of eggs. Each boy took his fair share of supplies and set to work “decorating” the rectory. Xavier and Garrett busied themselves stringing toilet paper over all the shrubs and trees in the front lawn, while the others soaped the windows and rectory walls and wrote crude messages in food coloring in the snow on the front lawn. When they were finished, they stepped back and admire their work.

  “It looks jolly good, mates,” Court grinned.

  “Ah, but, it’s missing something,” Beck announced, studying the rectory closer.

  Then, Xavier noticed the eggs on the front seat of the sleigh. “What are the eggs for?”

  Beck turned and smiled devilishly. “That’s it! That’s what’s missing!” He marched over to the sleigh and grabbed the eggs. “Okay everyone, load up on ammunition,” Beck called, holding out the cartons to the other boys. “This game is called Pelt the Priest. Now, everyone will need to find a good hiding place. I’ll ring the doorbell, and when Father O’Brien comes to the door, we’ll pelt him with eggs. Whoever gets him in the face wins!”

  The boys snickered and scrambled behind shrubs and trees as Beck marched up the sidewalk. Then, after glancing over his shoulder to see if everyone was hidden, he pressed the doorbell and raced off behind a bush. Several moments later, a yawning Father O’Brien came to the door. He opened his mouth to say something when an egg splattered on his chest. The priest blinked stupidly as two more eggs zipped past him and splattered on the rectory door. Xavier stood and threw his egg, hitting Father O’Brien squarely in the face just as three more eggs splattered across his chest. The other boys immediately raced away from the rectory, abandoning the horse and sleigh, but Xavier made the fatal error of hesitating to watch a yelling O’Brien tumble off the porch and into a shrub before finally sprinting off into the darkness.

  He didn’t get more than half a block from the church when he heard heavy footsteps behind him, running. Surely it couldn’t be the pudgy priest chasing after him! Without a hesitation in his pace, he turned and squinted into the darkness. Someone was indeed following him, but it was definitely not Father O’Brien. This man was athletic, fit, and very fast, and he was gaining on him with very little effort. Xavier sprinted as fast as his legs would carry him, but several strides later, he felt the man’s hands on him, pulling him to the ground.

  “Okay, you little delinquent, let’s find out who you are!” a deep voice growled as he flipped Xavier onto his back and tore the mask from his face. Xavier looked up into the steel eyes of his uncle, Michael Spencer.

  “Xavier? What the… You did this? You’re responsible for all this mayhem?” he spat out.

  “Yes, sir,” Xavier responded meekly.

  Although he could never be certain, Xavier thought he saw humor in the depths of his uncle’s eyes, but with a blink, all humor disappeared and a precarious chill took its place. Spencer stood and pulled him to his feet.

  “Let’s go. We’re going back to the rectory for Father O’Brien. Then the two of us will take you home,” he announced, grabbing him by the collar and steering him back toward the church. “Do you mind telling me who the horse and sleigh belong to? I’m certain the owner will want them back.”

  “They’re Governor Yaman’s,” Xavier muttered.

  “Ah, yes. I thought I recognized the horse.”

  Father O’Brien was not a very forgiving man. If Spencer hadn’t been there, he would have beaten Xavier to a pulp. As the men escorted him back to the castle, O’Brien tried to pressure him into revealing his accomplices, but he stubbornly refused to talk. He knew his loyalty was useless because once his father and Ephraim found out what happened they’d know that the others had been involved as well. No, he wouldn’t need to say a word. The others were just as busted as he was. He sighed dejectedly as they entered the palace.

  Spencer and O’Brien followed Xavier into the antechamber. Ephraim went rigid at the sight of them, and his eyes narrowed knowingly at the sight of Father O’Brien’s egged robe and face.

  “Where’s Courtney, Xavier?” he asked stiffly, as the trio climbed the steps to the royal residence.

  “In your residence, I think,” Xavier muttered.

  “We need to speak to the king, Ephraim,” Spencer announced calmly.

  Ephraim led them into the receiving room and then climbed the stairs to Jeremiah’s room. Moments later, Jeremiah appeared in his pajamas, looking sleepy-eyed and very grumpy. Xavier tried to blink back the tears already forming at the edges of his eyes.

  “Your Highness!” bellowed Father O’Brien, not even waiting for Jeremiah to finish climbing down the steps. “This boy has been out vandalizing the kingdom! He and his cohorts soaped and toilet papered the church’s property! They wrote crude messages on the lawn and on the rectory walls! Not to mention the personal assault they directed toward me! Just look at me! One little deviant even hit me in the face!”

  Xavier had been staring at the floor throughout O’Brien’s tyrant, but at the priest’s last words, his head and shoulders sank. He felt a light, reassuring squeeze on his shoulder and looked up at Spencer’s softening expression.

  “There were others there, but the boy will not divulge their identities! I want you to invade the boy’s mind and tell me who the other boys are,” Father O’Brien demanded.

  “There’s no need to do that, Father O’Brien,” Ephraim answered.

  “Then you know who the other culprits are?” Father O’Brien asked.

  Ephraim sighed and nodded. “I’m afraid we have a bloody good idea.”

  “It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out,” Jeremiah added gruffly. “Mike, why are you here?”

  “Well, it seems the boys left me a front yard full of presents that I’m fairly certain weren’t theirs to give,” he explained, trying not to smile. “And the boys seem to have borrowed Governor Yaman’s horse and sleigh as well, but I’ll make sure they get back to the stables when we’re done here.”

  Jeremiah nodded. “Ephraim, would you round up Xavier’s conspirators and bring them here.”

  “Yes, sire,” Ephraim muttered, leaving the residence.

  Jeremiah looked at the downcast head of his son. “Xavier? What do you have to say for yourself?”<
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  Xavier looked briefly into the stern eyes of his father and shrugged. “I guess nothing, sir. I was just celebrating Mummering.”

  “Well, that’s the understatement of the year! It’s quite obvious you were celebrating Mummering, but did your friends tell you that Mummering is frowned upon by the community, not to mention illegal?” Jeremiah asked.

  “No, but didn’t you do it when you were a kid?” Xavier muttered.

  “Yes, I did, but if you had asked me that beforehand, I would have also told you that my father reddened my backside for it,” Jeremiah responded roughly.

  “Yes! A worthy punishment if you ask me! One that I want to administer myself!” Father O’Brien spat.

  Jeremiah stiffened noticeably. “I don’t think that’s necessary, Father. I will punish the boy appropriately.”

  “I think not, Jeremiah! You’re too soft on the boy! That boy,” he spat, jabbing a finger at Xavier, “needs a good old-fashioned spanking that will make him think twice before he does something like this again,” Father O’Brien demanded, stepping toward Xavier.

  “I can guarantee he’ll think twice before doing something like this again,” Jeremiah spat back, moving aggressively toward the priest and blocking him from Xavier. “But you’re not touching my son, O’Brien!”

  Spencer pulled Xavier away and protecting him from the sparring men as their argument escalated.

  “Now, look here, Jeremiah! I have the right to…”

  “No! You have no rights where my son is concerned! You will not touch him! I am not my father!” Jeremiah countered.

  “I’m painfully aware of that, Boy,” O’Brien hissed.

  Jeremiah’s entire body seemed to swell at the word “Boy”, and he stepped aggressively forward, towering above the older man.

  “Oi!” Ephraim called, stomping into the room with a timid troupe of boys behind him. He pushed between the two angry men. “Your Highness, Father O’Brien, this isn’t going to help. I think both of you need to take a step back and calm down!” he interrupted firmly.

  “Ephraim’s right! This isn’t solving anything,” Spencer added. “Surely we can come up with a punishment you both can agree upon.”

  Jeremiah sighed raggedly, visibly reigning in his fury. “Father,” Jeremiah began with forced calmness, “I will punish the boy, but you can gain retribution by bearing witness if you’d like, and all six boys will report for clean up duty tomorrow morning at seven.”

  “Seven? Ah, man!” Garrett whined.

  Jeremiah turned on the boys. “Yes! At seven, Garrett Bracus!”

  Garrett immediately cowered and muttered meekly, “Yes, Your Highness.”

  “Rebecca is calling their parents,” Ephraim murmured to the men before turning to the boys. “Of all the stupid, idiotic ideas…whose idea was this?” Ephraim demanded, glaring at his own son. When the boys didn’t respond right away, Ephraim repeated more harshly, “Whose idea was it?”

  “Mine, sir,” Xavier murmured softly. All four men spun toward him.

  “Your idea?” Jeremiah repeated, clearly unconvinced.

  “Yes, sir. It was my idea to put all that stuff in Headmaster Spencer’s yard, and I was the one who hit Father O’Brien in the face with an egg. It was me.”

  Jeremiah and Spencer looked at one another and shook their heads.

  “No, it wasn’t,” Jeremiah retorted. “It may have been your idea to decorate Mike’s front lawn, and you may have thrown an egg at Father O’Brien, but this entire escapade wasn’t your idea, was it, Beckley?” Jeremiah turned to the red-haired boy.

  “No, sire,” Beck agreed resigned. “It was mine.”

  “Okay, have a seat, boys. Your parents will be here shortly,” Jeremiah insisted firmly, gesturing to the sofa and armchairs next to the glowing ash in the hearth. The boys obediently did as they were told.

  “Geez, X! How did you get caught?” Garrett hissed once they were all seated next to the fireplace.

  “We must’ve woken up Spencer when we did his lawn. You know, he’s a lot faster than he looks,” he muttered. “You don’t think we’ll be grounded for the Old Christmas Celebrations, do you?”

  “Don’t even think of that, Xavier! Crikey! I’d rather be caned within an inch of my life than for that to happen!” Court gasped, horrified.

  The boys fell into a strained silence, contemplating their fates and the repercussions they would undoubtedly face.

  When the doorbell chimed several minutes later, all six boys went rigid as two men stomped into the palace.

  “Oh, no! We’re dead men, Bracus!” Beckley whispered, punching Garrett beside him. Both boys peered over the back of the sofa as their fathers shook hands with Jeremiah before listening intently to Spencer and Father O’Brien. The tall redheaded man was obviously Beck’s father, and the shorter, burly man with a thick beard had to be Garrett’s dad.

  “Beckley Adam Wilcox!” Beck’s father barked. “Get over here, boy!”

  “Garrett, you too, son,” Mr. Bracus called, more calmly.

  Garrett and Beck stood and went to the men, and Xavier couldn’t help but watch the exchange. Although he couldn’t hear what was being said, Father O’Brien seemed to be monopolizing the conversation, and Beck and Garrett looked to be on the verge of tears. After a moment, Father O’Brien led the group into the library and closed the door behind them.

  Xavier turned and stared into Court’s pale, terrified face.

  “What do you imagine will happen to them now?” Frankie asked in a quiet, shaky voice.

  “I don’t have to imagine,” Court croaked. “I know what’s happening, and you will too when your mum gets here!”

  But Frankie didn’t have to wait for his answer. A moment later, muffled thuds and whimpers seeped from the library. Frankie’s face went crimson and his eyes widened.

  “Surely… they’re not…Father O’Brien wouldn’t dare touch me! Mom wouldn’t let him!” Frankie declared with shaken confidence.

  “I wouldn’t count on that,” Court muttered.

  Finally, Garrett and Beck exited the library with runny noses, red eyes, and moist, flushed faces. Garrett glanced over at Xavier with an embarrassed, meek smile. Beckley, on the other hand, stomped out of the palace without a glance at the other boys.

  After Mr. Wilcox and Mr. Bracus left the residence, Ephraim looked at his son. “Courtney? You’re up.”

  “Dad…don’t…uh…just don’t let Father O’Brien do it. Please?” Court whispered.

  “He’s not administering the punishment. The king is,” Ephraim replied.

  “Oh, Crikey!” Court muttered and followed his father into the library.

  “The king? Oh God, oh God, oh God!” Frankie cried.

  Frankie’s mother finally arrived, and soon, only Xavier was left. He wasn’t sure which was worse, listening to his friends being punished or waiting for his turn.

  Finally, his father came to him and knelt in front of him. Xavier’s stomach lurched with anxiety. “Son, you know what you did was wrong. I’d dare to say it crossed your mind while you were playing your part in this evening’s pranks. Am I right?”

  Xavier nodded, reluctant to meet his father’s eyes.

  “When you victimize others, they have a right to decide and witness your punishment,” Jeremiah explained softly. “Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir,” he croaked as tears finally spilled over his cheeks.

  “Even though I’ve asked Father O’Brien not to spank you, it doesn’t mean that you don’t deserve it and won’t be getting it. I will spank you, son, and Father O’Brien and Headmaster Spencer will bear witness,” he concluded and stood. “It’s been a very long night, and I’m just as anxious as you to get this over with so we can both go to bed.”

  “Remember our agreement, sire,” Father O’Brien reminded him testily.

  “I remember, Father,” Jeremiah grumbled, bitterly.

  “If I feel you’re being too lenient…”

  “Yes, Fat
her! I know! I remember our agreement!” Jeremiah barked, glaring at the priest as though he would rather pummel him.

  After another heavy sigh, Jeremiah turned back to Xavier. “Stand up, son,” he sighed, grasping Xavier’s arm and pulling him to his feet.

  With a shuddering moan, Xavier found himself pinned against his father’s left hip, and suddenly, Xavier wanted to bawl.

  Maybe it was because Father O’Brien was watching with a critical eye, or maybe it was the fact that it had been months since his father truly gave him a spanking, but when his father struck him, Xavier realized that Father O’Brien needn’t have worried about his father being too lenient for this punishment would be quite the contrary. The priest must have been satisfied because he didn’t say a word as Jeremiah finally released Xavier and straightened.

  After a moment of uncomfortable silence, O’Brien’s announced smugly from behind Xavier, “I’m sorry it came to this, young sire,”–though, he didn’t sound at all sorry–”but will this punishment help you to reject obviously poor schemes your friends dream up? Will it help you think for yourself?”

  Seething, he didn’t trust himself to speak.

  “Xavier?” Jeremiah questioned, gently grasping his chin and lifting the boy’s gaze to his. “Father O’Brien asked you a question.”

  Xavier hastily wiped the tears from his face and turned to face the priest. “Yes, sir,” he muttered.

  “Good,” O’Brien announced with a satisfied smile.

  “Son, you and your partners in crime will spend tomorrow morning taking everything you stole and left in the Headmaster’s yard back to their rightful owners, and you will clean up the mess at the rectory.”

  “Yes, sir,” he answered quietly.

  Jeremiah rubbed his face and raked his fingers through his pale hair. “Okay, it’s late, son. Go on up to bed.”

  Xavier left without looking back and a moment later, the door to his room slammed shut.

  Chapter 10

  First Love

  The boys were lucky in that they had not been grounded from the Old Christmas Celebrations. So the next morning, “the morning of restoration” as they came to call it, they spent cleaning the exterior of the church and its grounds. In order to get things done quickly, they divided themselves up into task groups. Garrett and Frankie used the king’s sleigh and horses to return the stolen lawn furniture, Christmas lights, decorations, and street signs they had used to decorate Headmaster Spencer’s front lawn. Courtney and Harry busily raked snow so that the words written in food coloring were erased. Xavier was paired with Beck to clean the rectory windows and door. The bar soap was caked heavily on the door and windows and it took a good bit of scrubbing to get it all off.