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

by J. Noel Clinton

  “Dear God! It’s a mutiny!” Ephraim gasped and turned to Jeremiah. “Sire, we need to sound the evacuation alarm, and you and Xavier must flee the kingdom immediately!”

  But, the king didn’t respond. He was fixated on the invasion and the slaughter of nearly half of his Royal Guard that had taken place in a matter of minutes.

  “Jeremiah!” Ephraim snapped. “Order the alarm!”

  The king was jolted into action and looked at Dublin. “Dub, can you sound the alarm?”

  “Yes, sire,” Dublin responded and turned to his wife. “See ya soon, my love,” he whispered, kissing her before sprinting toward the pandemonium at the gates. As he ran, Dublin transfigured into a dog.

  “Whoa! I didn’t know Mr. Minnows was a transfigurer!” Xavier exclaimed in awe.

  “Jer, we’ve got to keep going. Dub will be okay. You and Xavier cannot be caught! You know what LeMasters will do to you if he catches you,” Ephraim insisted.

  “Yes, you’re right. Let’s get going.”

  As the group moved forward, Xavier continued to watch the battles behind them. Another unit of the Royal Guard and a few loyal citizens had joined the fight against the intruders and the traitors. Dublin the dog weaved his way, unnoticed, through the fighting men toward the bell tower next to where the gatehouse used to stand.

  When the group finally reached the palace gates, an additional three-dozen Royal Guards were organizing and scrambling nervously to counter a defense.

  “King Wells! We understand that there’s been an invasion. We are nearly ready to join the others to defend Warwood, sire,” a young guard remarked unsteadily.

  “No corporal, you will not join the others. The evacuation alarm will sound at any moment. Your orders are to secure the palace, find your families, and evacuate the kingdom. Follow the refugee protocol, and I shall see you all soon,” Jeremiah ordered.

  This message seemed cryptic to Xavier, and he wasn’t sure he understood any of it. However, the guards seemed to understand it perfectly for they immediately sprang into action barricading the palace gates. Then, a high-pitched alarm blared from the bell tower.

  When the group entered the palace, Rebecca Hardcastle and the rest of the children stood in the foyer, with bags in their hands.

  “How did they know?” Xavier questioned as Ephraim slid him to the floor.

  “How do you think?” he asked, nodding toward Jeremiah.

  “Oh, yeah,” he muttered stupidly.

  Seconds later, Milton and Mrs. Sommers rushed out of the royal residence carrying two backpacks, a black duffle, and a first aid kit.

  “Here you are, Your Highness,” Mrs. Sommers called, handing Jeremiah a change of clothes. Milton dropped a backpack and the duffle next to him and instantly set to work on cleaning and dressing the wounds on his back and legs. Jeremiah hissed a string of curses as Milton hurriedly doused an antibiotic astringent over the lacerations on his backside before Loren closed the wounds with his rejuvenation abilities. Then, shielded by Milton and Loren, Jeremiah stripped the blood-soaked linen from his body and pulled on the clean dry clothes.

  “Xavier?” Mrs. Sommers called softly, handing him his own backpack. “There’s a change in clothes and some necessary items in your pack. We’ll see you soon.” She kissed him lightly on the cheek, and Xavier wrapped his arms around her.

  “Be careful,” Xavier mumbled into her shoulder.

  Once Jeremiah was dressed, he regarded the group in front of him. “Let’s get out of here. Milton, Emma, get yourselves and your families to safety and follow refugee protocol. We’ll see you soon.”

  “Yes, sire,” they responded and hurried from the palace.

  “Jer, we should use Loren’s passage. It leads directly to the woods. Then we can make our way from there to the Northern emergency escape route,” Ephraim suggested.

  Jeremiah nodded. “That sounds like the best route. Has anyone seen Mike? I can’t seem to connect with him.”

  “No, sir. He wasn’t at the administration of the sentence either,” Loren added.

  “He told me he couldn’t watch, Jer. So as far as I know, he stayed home,” Ephraim told him.

  Just then, an explosion rocked the palace, and the children screamed.

  “Sire, there’s no time! Mike will have to look after himself! We’ve got to get you and the prince out of here!” Ephraim yelled, pulling Jeremiah into the Jefferson residence.

  “Xavier, follow your father,” Loren called, nudging him through the door behind Ephraim and Jeremiah.

  They followed Ephraim through the residence and into Loren and Lucy’s bedroom. Loren shoved the bed to the side just as another rumbling blast shook the palace. With a sense of urgency, Loren pulled a large D-ring fastened to a hatch on the floor, revealing the ladder and passageway below. Jeremiah was the first to clamber down.

  “Give Xavier to me,” he called from below.

  Loren grabbed Xavier abruptly and lowered him down into the dark opening. Xavier felt his father’s hands grab him and lower him to the floor of the tunnel.

  The rest of the group followed quickly behind them, and they made their way down the passage using small, controlled electro forces for light. They walked in silence for several minutes, hearing and feeling the earth above them grumble. Finally, they came to an opening covered by a thick, ivy curtain. Xavier was just about to exit the passageway with his father when a thought stopped him dead in his tracks. Oh, God! He had to go back to the palace!

  “Wait,” Xavier muttered as the ramification of what had to be done sunk into him. “Dad, I have to go back.”

  “What? There’s no way you’re going back there,” Jeremiah ordered.

  “I have to! I have to get the King’s Key! I can’t leave without it! The prophet told me this would happen! He told me there would be a mutiny and that I wasn’t to leave the kingdom without the key!”

  Jeremiah’s face grew white, and he gasped. “Dear Lord! But, son, LeMasters’ army has already seized the palace. There’s no…”

  Xavier didn’t wait for his father to finish. He shoved his way through the group and raced back toward the palace.

  “Xavier, no!” his father yelled after him.

  The passage was pitch-black, and just as Xavier thought of conjuring a light, he stumbled and banged his head on the side of the passage. He sat for a moment gasping for breath and rubbing the dizziness from his head. Slowly, he stood and continued down the passage using a small electro force for light. When he reached the Jefferson’s residence, he extinguished the force and looked up. A thin strip of light outlined the trapdoor above him. Carefully, he climbed the ladder and listened for signs of movement. Hearing only silence, he slowly opened the door and peered out into the bedroom. Suddenly, a pair of large hands yanked him roughly back down into the passage, and the trapdoor smacked back into place above his head. An electro force spun above his father’s fiery face.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed. “Xavier, you can’t go back in there!”

  “Haven’t you been listening, Dad? I have to! It’s not just what Abraham Vincent said; I have this gut feeling that the key must be with us! It's like our lives depend on it!” Xavier whispered fiercely.

  Jeremiah studied him a moment, at a loss for words.

  “Please, Dad. I’m telling you it’s important!”

  “Okay, but let me go up instead. If I don’t make it, maybe I can distract them long enough for you to…”

  “No!” Xavier yelped. “No, Dad. We do this together!” Xavier finished firmly and climbed the ladder again. Slowly, he opened the trapdoor and found that the room was still empty. They quickly clambered up and out of the passage. Jeremiah, resigned to the task at hand, grabbed Xavier’s arm, pulled the boy behind him, and took the lead.

  “Follow me,” he told him telepathically. They crept across the bedroom to the door and hesitated a moment before slipping through the Jefferson residence. After checking the foyer for enemy soldiers, Jeremi
ah stealthily crept toward the royal staircase and twisted the end post before motioning his son to the sliding door hidden underneath the staircase. Xavier moved quickly and slipped through the hidden door with his father close behind him.

  “This way,” Jeremiah ordered, leading him down a narrow staircase.

  They approached a large, steel-enforced door; Xavier watched as Jeremiah placed his hand on the crystal panel next to it. The panel lit up, and the door moaned softly as it opened. They stepped inside a very bright room; when suddenly, his father grabbed him and pulled him roughly behind his body. Someone else was in the room, but Xavier couldn’t believe his eyes! The man standing in the room smiling at them was his father!

  Chapter 23

  The Sacrifice

  “I figured you’d eventually turn up here,” the imposter stated his voice identical to his father’s. “You know, sire, if you were this slow on the rugby pitch, even I would be able to run circles around you.”

  Xavier felt the tension leave his father as he released him and smiled.

  “The only way I’d ever be that slow is if I were unconscious. Hello, Dub! I figured you would have caught up with everyone in the woods by now.”

  The man leaning casually against the pale wall laughed as he straightened and approached the king and prince. As he drew closer, the king’s image melted away and left a grinning Dublin Minnows in its place.

  “I intend to do just that after I help you get the key safely out of the palace. You’re going to need it to make your stand against LeMasters,” Dublin announced, looking at Xavier.

  “Yeah, I know,” he muttered.

  “Yes, and we need to get the damn thing and get going Dub. LeMasters has already infiltrated the palace,” the king remarked, as he stepped past Dublin, opened the large, golden door, and entered the vault.

  “Holy cow!” Xavier gasped as he looked around the small room. The long cherry altar that held the vessels for the King’s Key and the Chronicles was exactly how he had dreamt of it three months ago. Only the small black capsule was absent, but of course, it had been used during his divination. The wall behind the altar was even more magnificent than a dream could ever do justice. It seemed brighter, more radiant; it appeared as though the wall itself emitted the light for the entire vault.

  “What is it, son?” Jeremiah asked.

  “This room, I’ve been here,” he whispered, unable to take his eyes off the kingdom’s emblem and the dancing light it cast around the room. It was mesmerizing.

  The king cast his son a bewildered look. “You’ve been here? How could you?”

  “I’ve been here in my dreams, Dad,” he answered, turning and looking at his father’s paling face. “It’s exactly how I dreamt of it … only better.”

  “That’s not possible. It’s sealed in lead. You couldn’t have had a monition of it,” Jeremiah muttered, staring at him.

  “Yes, sire. It is possible,” Dublin whispered.

  Father and son spun to look at Dublin, who stood just inside the doorway staring down at Xavier with reverence. It was the same look Xavier had received from the group who attended his divination, everyone except Dublin, who had separated himself from the group and wept. Suddenly, it occurred to Xavier to ask why. Why had Dublin removed himself from the group? Why had he sat in the last pew of the church by himself and cried? Had he learned of a different destiny, a different truth?

  “He’s telling you the truth, Jer. There are truths here that have not yet been revealed. You are only just now beginning to see the extent of the powers the boy will possess as a man.” He smiled at Xavier, but there was sadness in the way he smiled. “The key must be with the boy, always. It’s not just the King’s Key, Jer. It’s this king’s key,” he finished, nodding at the boy.

  Suddenly, a loud boom shook the room and vibrated through their very souls. Jeremiah and Dublin looked back into the other room.

  “Dear God! They’re trying to breach the outer entrance!” Jeremiah gasped. “We’re trapped.”

  Xavier raced to the old derelict box, grabbed the key, and tucked it in his waistband. “Well, let’s get out of here, then! Dad, teleport us to the woods.”

  “I can’t, son. This vault, the entire palace for that matter, is lined in lead. It wouldn’t be a very secure place if people could easily teleport in and out of it,” he noted, sounding defeated.

  Another loud explosion rocked the room, and Xavier fell to the floor.

  “Xavier, we need to get you to safety,” his father declared, pulling him to his feet. “So, I… I’m going to turn myself in as a diversion. Maybe it will distract William’s men long enough to give you and Dublin time to escape…”

  “NO!” Xavier screamed, wrapping himself around his father’s body. “No, Father. You can’t! They’ll kill you! They’ll kill you!”

  “Better me than you, son,” he told him as he peeled him from his body.

  “No! You don’t understand! If you die, I might as well too! The prophet told me! He said you would try this, and you would die!” he yelled, panic creeping into his voice.

  The king looked down at the frantic boy. “Son, I don’t want to die, but if it means that you would be safe, then I’d die eagerly, willingly.”

  “NO! NO YOU CAN’T!” Xavier screeched hysterically. “He said that my life would be full of darkness and pain if you sacrificed yourself. Don’t you see? If you die, the kingdom, my kingship will die with you! I need you, Dad!” Xavier sobbed uncontrollably, clutching desperately to his father’s waist.

  “Son,” Jeremiah began shakily, his resolve melting away.

  “No! NOOO,” Xavier wailed, tightening his hold on his father.

  “Jer,” Dublin called softly, holding out a tattered envelope to the king, who took it and looked bewilderedly at his friend. Tears fell onto Dublin’s cheeks as he looked determinedly back at him. “Give that to Tamarah, and promise me something. Promise me you’ll watch out for h…her and… my girls.”

  “Dub…”

  “Promise me, damn it!” he barked, his tears running freely now.

  “Okay I will, but, Dub, I can’t let…”

  “There’s nothing you can do about this, Jer,” he hissed, embracing his friend. “It’s destined to be this way, just as it is destined that you be there to take care of your boy. It’s been an honor serving you, King Wells.”

  Slowly, Xavier began shaking his head as he realized who would die in his father’s place, and he wasn’t sure he could endure such an enormous penance.

  “Mr. Minnows, n…no,” he groaned.

  Dublin looked down at him with a sad smile. “Xavier, it has to be this way. This is my destiny; I foresaw it at the divination. But to be honest, I hadn’t expected it to occur this soon.” Dublin gave a dry, feeble laugh.

  Xavier began sobbing. “It’s my fault. All of this is my fault. If it hadn’t been for me, Dad wouldn’t have been caned, and you wouldn’t be doing this!”

  “No!” Dublin barked, shaking Xavier. “This is not your fault! It’s not! It’s not your fault.” He looked meaningfully up at his unsteady friend. “And, it’s not your dad’s fault. This is my choice. Do you understand me? It’s my choice.”

  Sobbing beyond words, Xavier could only nod.

  With a deep sigh, Dublin stood and embraced Jeremiah. “You are twice the king your father ever thought about becoming. Don’t doubt your instincts. They’ve always been uncannily accurate. Teach him well, sire. He is the hope, the future. I love you, my friend,” he whispered and then stepped back.

  With one last look at his kings, Dublin’s face hardened with determination. He turned and transfigured back into Jeremiah’s image before racing from the vault. Father and son stood a moment, shell-shocked. Then, Jeremiah pulled his son into a bone-crushing hug.

  “Xavier, we’ve got to get moving or…Dublin’s sacrifice…will have been for nothing,” he whispered, his voice breaking, overwhelmed with emotion.

  Xavier wiped at the tears on his fa
ce and nodded.

  The king led the way out of the vault to the slightly ajar, charred outer door. The smell of melting metal filled the foyer, but other than the thinning smoke, it was empty. Quickly, he pulled the boy across the empty space and into the Jefferson’s residence. They no sooner made it through the door when a group of dark soldiers stormed into the foyer with Dublin, who was no longer in a transfigured state. Jeremiah pulled Xavier into the shadows of the doorway and peered back out into the foyer. He looked desperately around, trying to find some way to save his friend. But before Jeremiah could formulate a plan, the lead soldier grabbed Dublin roughly by the throat and drove him to his knees at the foot of the royal stairs. The soldier turned, and he saw Danson LeMasters’ elated face.

  “Master! Master, my brother! I have something for you!” he called up the royal stairs.

  A moment later, William LeMasters appeared from the royal residence, and when his eyes settled on Dublin, a wide sneer unfurled across his face.

  “Well, well, well. What do we have here? Isn’t it Dublin Minnows, the prince’s keeper? If I’m remembering correctly, you didn’t do a very good job of it at those filthy commons’ home.”

  Dublin didn’t respond, but his shoulders dropped marginally.

  “So, tell me, did Jeremiah punish you for your negligence in allowing me to take the boy? If it had been me, you would have been executed.”

  Slowly, Dublin’s shoulders straightened. His head lifted proudly as he met William LeMasters’ leering eyes with calmness, and he smiled. “Well, you see, Billy, that’s the difference between you and Jeremiah. He is a great and honorable king, whereas you, you’re…nothing but a second-class king wannabe!”

  “SHUT UP!” LeMasters yelled, storming down the steps.

  “Ouch,” Dublin taunted. “Did I touch on a sore spot, Billy?”

  “I said, shut up!” he spat. “I don’t think you appreciate the dire situation you’ve gotten yourself into, Minnows.” LeMasters glared down at Dublin’s ever-widening smile. “What are you grinning at, you fool? Don’t you realize what I have in store for you?”