by Fiona Wilde
"That's it," Kier said. "All of you! To your quarters! Now!"
But the girls just resumed eating, and as their laughter died away the only sound that could be heard was the tinkering of silver on plates.
Even Kier seemed at a loss for words now as his brothers looked at him for some clue as to what to do next.
He ran his hand through his hair nervously, trying to decide. He got the obvious feeling that Lenora - like him - was the leader. Should he take her from her chair and spank her bottom as he had done the night before?
Even as he considered it, he realized that would not be fair. After all, it had been Luna who had ignored a direct order, and he had no proof that she had tossed the banana peel in Ivan's path.
But something must be done, and quickly, if he and his brothers were not to completely lose face with the women they sought to command.
"Stop eating," he ordered again. "Stop eating at once and go to your quarters. Now. All of you."
The women didn't even look up.
"You!" Kier snapped his fingers towards a servant standing nearby. "Come at once and take everything from the table. Including the princesses' plates."
"Beg pardon, sir," the man said, staying where he was. "King Elgar gives the commands in this castle. I will only take food from his daughters' mouths on his direct orders."
"Well then go get him, then!" Kier boomed.
"My orders are to stay here during breakfast," the servant said, unmoved still. "If you seek the king, then have one of your brothers fetch him."
"These bananas are delicious, sisters. Try them!" Lenora's voice floated to him from across the room.
When Kier shot her an angry look, Lenora picked up a banana slice and popped into her mouth, smiling innocently as she did.
Kier groaned in frustration. "You, Quentin. Go fetch the king."
"Certainly brother," Quentin said, rising quickly from the table to the disappointment of his siblings, each of whom had hoped to be chosen to leave what was beginning to look like a losing battle.
As he left, Kier turned back to the princesses. "When your father hears of this you'll find the tables turned. Don't think that my brothers and I are so easily outwitted."
"Oh no," Lenora said. "We'd never think that."
Then she and the others burst into laughter again.
"Stop it!" Kier commanded. "Stop or I'll..."
"You'll what?" Lenora asked. "Beat us. For laughing? I can only imagine how much fun life will be with you once you've banished mirth from the castle. Or is it simply forbidden when you are its target."
She turned to Luna. "You get the clumsy one. I get the insecure one."
Kier felt his fists clenched. His hands itched to grab Lenora form her chair and haul her across the room, to throw her over his lap and bare her bottom - modesty be damned! - and spank her until her perfect posterior was a deep cherry red and she was begging him for mercy.
But she'd succeeded in making him look petty, and if he spanked her now he would only look more petty.
And she knew it. He could tell by the way she looked at him with this satisfied, victorious expression on her beautiful face. And he was going to marry this woman? Did he want to?
Then he reminded himself of the king's promise of lands and titles and riches, of honor restored to the sons of Salazar. And Kier knew he had a duty to forge ahead and tame this woman and - if possible - try to love her.
"Where in the world was that king?" he wondered and finally, when he was nearly at his wits end, the doors opened and King Elgar walked slowly and stiffly into the room with Quentin by his side.
But it was too late.
The sisters had all risen from the table, their plates now cleared of food.
"I was told I was needed?" he said, looking from his daughters to the princesses.
"Yes, papa. We summoned you," lied Angelica. "For we wanted to thank you for the lovely breakfast and tell you how much we love you. The girls circled their father then and smothered his old face with kisses as he sighed with happiness."
Kier moved over to Quentin. "You didn't tell him," he observed. "You didn't tell him why he'd been summoned."
"I thought it was best if you did," Quentin said defensively.
"My daughters tell me the food is not to your liking?" The king stepped forward now and looked at the table where the princes' plates sat nearly full across from the princess' cleared ones.
"No, there is nothing wrong with the food."
"But your plates are still full!" the King observed.
"We were....distracted," Kier said.
"By the good conversation," Angelica offered.
"Yes," Fiona said. "The princes were just telling us how they enjoy jousting, and how they are extremely adept at it, and how they regularly practice jousting with one another in a most aggressive fashion. They think you might like to watch a match!"
The brothers looked at one another in confusion. They'd said nothing of the sort, and what's more while they knew how to joust none of them were particularly adept.
"Splendid!" the king replied before Kier could explain. "It's been years since I've seen a good jousting match. We'll arrange one for later today, and I'll even put up one of my jewels as a prize to the prince who wins!"
"Lovely!" Lark replied. "I do like a man with jewels. I home my betrothed wins it, so he can make a gift of it to me!"
Then the girls left the room with their father, leaving the princes standing there looking confused.
"Let's hope the jousting match goes better than this morning," Leo drily observed.
"We were trounced," admitted Quentin.
"Badly," agreed Ivan, rubbing the knot on the back of his head.
"They're having a good laugh at our expense, I'd wager," Justin added.
The princes stood there, considering this.
"It's not over yet," Kier said resolutely. "Let them think they've won."
"They have," Justin replied.
"It's a temporary setback, Kier insisted. "Nothing more. We'll bring to heel. But it will take strength. What do you say we finish breakfast and regroup. We'll need our strength if we're going to battle those women. And each other."
But when they turned, it was to see the last of the breakfast plates being taken away by the servants.
"Our food!" Leo cried.
"Beg pardon," the servant said. "But the princesses told the king you were finished, and he ordered the food taken and fed to the pigs."
And at this final slap the brothers stood there, fuming, each one now vowing a silent revenge as their stomachs rumbled with unsatisfied hunger.
* * *
"That was brilliant!" Lenora beamed with appreciation at her sisters as the entered the room.
"I agree. We put them right in their places, the whole smug lot of them."
"True," said Lenora. "But we mustn't get smug ourselves. They're pride has been stung and they'll look to sting us in return. We must be prepared for whatever it is they do."
"Do you think they'll spank us?" Lark's face was distressed and Lenora went to her and placed her arm around her youngest sibling's shoulders.
"For this, no," she said. "I think they know it would make them look like bullies and while they may be exiled princes they are still princes and therefore work from a higher ethical code than most men."
"So what do you think they'll do?" asked Angelica.
"I suspect they will try to restrict us or punish us in some other way." Lenora said, pacing the floor as she thought. "Perhaps they'll confine us to our quarters, or make us skip lunch."
"They mustn't!" Luna cried. "T'isn't fair!"
"You're right," Lenora agreed. "But your reaction is exactly the opposite of what we should provide."
"We aren't supposed to be angry?" Fiona asked indignantly.
"No, we can be angry," Lenora counseled. "We just cannot show it. Don't let them appear to faze us. Dismiss them just as we did this morning. Did you not see how it put them all
at a disadvantage? It gives us the upper hand."
The other sisters nodded and smiled at this. Lenora was indeed wise.
"Besides," Lenora continued. "Thanks to Fiona's quick thinking, by this afternoon they'll be too busy fighting with themselves to even think of taming us, sisters. There's a joust scheduled, remember?"
"Yes," Angelica said, looking out the window to the green fields below, where the brothers were already practicing. "But they are close, and will likely see it as anything more than a friendly competition."
Lenora walked over and put her hands on her sister's shoulder. "That's before we raise the stakes, my dear."
"Raise the stakes?" Angelica asked. "How?"
"Divide and conquer, ladies," Lenora said. "It will be easy enough. They're just men, after all."
'So what's the plan?" asked Fiona excitedly.
"Gather round," Lenora said and the princesses huddled together and fomented a scheme to set the Princes of Randor against one another.
Chapter Three
Princess Lenora stood with her sisters looking down at the field, where the five princes sent to woo and win them sat astride five powerful and restless jousting mounts.
"Behold," she said to her siblings, a confident smile playing on her lips.
"Divide and conquer," she said, reminding them of their new strategy and the others returned her smile before turning their attention back to the field.
It was easy to feel self-assured, especially when Kier and his brothers looked so terribly uncomfortable with their situation. Their plans to unite in their efforts to tame the fiery princesses had not only failed miserably at breakfast, but now the little hellions had succeeded in convincing their father to pit them one against another in a joust.
This was particularly problematic because the brothers, while united on a common quest, were - as all brothers tend to be - terribly competitive in competition. And now even as they reminded themselves they were working together, they could not help but cast tense glances at one another as King Elgar stepped forward with a silver bowl containing slips of parchment bearing the princes' names.
"My oldest and youngest shall draw first," he announced.
Lenora reached into the bowl and withdrew the first name. "Why it's my own betrothed," she said, smiling sweetly down at the man who'd soundly spanked her the day before. "Kier."
If her father heard the edge of sarcasm in her voice, he ignored it as he passed the bowl to his youngest daughter, Lark.
"What a coincidence," she announced. "I, too have drawn the name of my betrothed. Leo!"
Of course their father had no way of knowing that they were lying and did not read the slips of paper. Had he done so he would have seen that the first drawing would have pitted the middle sons - Justin and Quentin - together in a more fair match.
Perhaps he even suspected his daughters had a hand in this unlikely first match up. Perhaps he did not to risk their ire by checking to see if they were being honest. Or, perhaps, King Elgar knew exactly what his daughters were doing an allowed it. After all, did he not tell the princes that the road to winning his daughter would be fraught with unforeseen challenges?
And now the eldest son of Randor stood across the field facing his youngest brother while from the side the other three watch with concern. Leo was - as all youngest siblings are - precious to his brothers. They tended to protect him, even when he did not want to be protected. This made Leo eager to prove himself. Kier knew his little brother would come at him hard, which meant he would have to ride hard at him if he were to prevail. If he hurt Leo he risked angering the middle brothers. If he lost, he risked losing respect.
"Lenora," he thought to himself, as he glanced up and saw her smirking down at him. When all was said and done he would add this to the list of sins for which he planned to spank her most soundly.
A bugle sounded and Kier dropped his shield and spurred his horse, barreling down the field towards Leo, who was coming fast down the opposite side of the fence between them. His little brother's sword was at the ready, his eyes narrowed and determined through the slit in his own shield.
And Kier knew what he had to do. These five princesses were more formidable than he'd ever anticipated, and with so much at stake he could not risk being undermined on the jousting field. If he was going to guide his brothers to victory in their quest to bring these feisty women to the altar, then he'd have to begin with victory on the jousting field. Once they had prevailed, they would see the wisdom in his judgment.
Kier aimed for his brother's right side and his lance hit Leo with a glancing blow that easily unhorsed him without doing any real damage. Kier managed to move slightly to the right and down, resulting in a blow that glanced off the shoulder plate of his armor.
Kier heard his brother hit the ground as he charged past and immediately pulled up his mount and wheeled around to see if his younger sibling was all right.
Leo was stumbling to his feet and removing his helmet, his face contorted in anger.
"Coward," the younger man hissed. "The least you could have done was take the full brunt of the blow. Like a man."
Kier felt his face grow hot with anger. "Only a fool refuses to take evasive action," he said. "I minimized the damage you did by moving a bit. As you can see, my strategy worked as you are the one picking yourself up from the ground."
His eldest brother's cool and somewhat patronizing response only served to infuriate Leo more. He rushed at Kier, only to be clasped about the soldier and hugged tightly.
"Remember our purpose, brother," Kier said into his ear, squeezing Leo so tight the youngest prince could feel it through the armor. "Remember what is at stake."
And Leo, taking heed, lifted his brother's arm in a sign of victory. But irritation marked his face just the same and the princesses, being female and therefore experts at these subtle nuances, exchanged small smiles.
"Good match!" the king boomed, and offered the bowl to his daughters again.
This time they chose Ivan and Justin.
It was hardly a match. Second-born Justin easily routed his younger brother with a direct blow to the midsection that sent Ivan sliding across the field on his back. Like Kier, Justin went back to check on his vanquished sibling, who was already on his feet and walking back to his horse, which grazed nearby. Taking the animals' reins, Justin gave them a jerk.
"Lazy beast," he said. "If he's been going faster I could have easily bested you. Next time I shall request a better stallion, such as the one you were given."
Justin started to say that the horses were more than equally matched, for they were, but thought the better of it. Better to allow Ivan to soothe his injured pride with a bit of fiction than correct him and risk hard feelings. Like Kier, Justin understood the importance of solidarity. Like Kier, he was wise to the princesses' scheme to pit them against one another.
There was one brother now who'd not fought - Quentin. His intended, Angelica, drew from the two names who had already won. She looked at the slip, which read Justin, and announced - in her typical dishonest fashion - that it said Kier.
Kier mounted his horse and waited for the third-born to do the same. When the bugle sounded they charged at one another and Quentin landed ungracefully in the hoof-churned soil just as Ivan had done moments before.
Unlike his predecessors, he did not complain or make excuses and simply bowed towards the grandstand and walked back with his horse obediently behind him. Kier breathed a sigh of relief. There was only one left to fight now - his brother Justin.
And that is exactly the competition the sisters had been waiting for. In any family of princes, the greatest rivalry exists between the first and second-born, as it should, for the second-born is ever-mindful that should the first meet with a tragic fate it is he who will be in line for kingship. So the pressure exists from childhood for a second-born to prove that he is as capable as the eldest.
And now Kier and Justin were, facing one another with shields down and lances
drawn, each prince telling himself that he must win this match.
The bugle sounded and the brothers raced across the field, neither prepared to give a quarter. Each moved to evade, but neither could and both toppled from their horses and landed on the hard ground with a clanking thud.
The princesses pretended to be alarmed, but over hands clasped over mouths the eyes that darted from one to another were brimming with amusement.
The princes were on their feet now and walking purposefully to their horses to retrieve the swords that hung from the scabbards attached to each saddle. For when both jousters are unhorsed, rules dictate that the competitors settle the matter by hand-to-hand combat.
Kier and Justin had sparred before, but never for real, and as they faced each other now it was with grim determination. The swords they wielded were large and heavy and their three brothers watched with tightened throats as the blades clashed with ringing blows.
Kier was stronger and slightly more experienced. But Justin was younger and faster and soon the eldest was grunting with exertion each time he lifted his sword. He began to feel anger at Justin's persistence. The second-born was coming at him with a persistence he'd never seen and when he lobbed a blow at Justin that hit the ground instead Kier wield, fury in his eyes and drew back his sword with the intention of striking Justin's blade so hard that it would be driven from his hands.
But that did not happen. Justin moved again with lightning speed and this time Kier found himself so unbalanced that he fell. His sword flew from his hand and when he rolled over onto his back and looked up, it was at the point of a blade.
"Yield?" Justin asked, triumph in his eyes.
Kier could not speak. He'd never been beaten at anything and yet here he was, bested by Justin - the younger brother who'd always almost been as good as he was. His eyes moved to the side and up to the grandstand where Lenora looked down. And the mockery in her eyes was even harder to take than the victory in Justin's.
"Yield, brother!" Justin's tone was firm. "You know you've been beaten."
And what could Kier say? To refuse would prolong the battle and make him look churlish.
