by Linda McNabb
“And don’t think I’m going to help you neither,” Max sneered sourly and he leaned against the wall to watch. “My little brother was supposed to get Rane’s job.”
Toby cleared the table as quickly as he could, carrying it all down to the kitchens by himself while Max followed empty-handed. Eventually Toby was allowed a break. He had an hour before he had to be back to help prepare lunch for the dozens of guests in the castle and he took some food to Marc.
He and Marc wandered into the more used parts of the castle. He knew how to keep to the shadows and duck out of the way when he came across the guards. After a few minutes of wandering the corridors they found themselves outside the court room. This was one of the few places that townspeople could go in the castle and Toby knew they wouldn’t look out of place in here. Normally the chief clerk stood at the door but today the large doors were unguarded and they went in and sat on one of the many empty pews.
King Herat sat at the far end of the room with a thoroughly miserable looking Prince Rory next to him. A man stood before them in torn and ill-fitting clothes. His head hung so low that his chin rested on his chest and his shoulders drooped in defeat.
“For stealing a chicken from the castle farmyard I sentence you to three months in the cells,” King Herat boomed. His voice could be heard all the way to the back of the court but there was only a handful of people in the whole room to listen. Most townspeople avoided the court for it only brought bad news, never good.
“Three months!” The man jerked his head up at what he seemed to think an unjust sentence. “I didn’t take the chicken, just two eggs.”
“My judgement is final.” King Herat didn’t even raise his voice as he signalled two guards to take him away. “Next case!”
The king frowned as he looked for the chief clerk who brought forward the guilty to be sentenced.
“Maybe there are no more?” Prince Rory suggested hopefully.
“Nonsense! Guard go and see what is going on,” the king ordered.
As the guard walked down towards the main doors they burst open and a tall man with a flowing cape strode into the court. He carried himself with the air of high ranking gentry and he ignored the guard who attempted to stop him. He was closely followed by Vern who was trying to overtake him before he reached the king.
The man’s shocking red hair stood out against his black cape as he strode on with his back to Toby. From the dusting of un-melted snow on his cloak he must have only just arrived at the castle.
“Sir Sir… This isn’t allowed,” Vern insisted but the man took no notice.
“What is all this about?” the king demanded loudly and glared at his chief clerk.
“Your Majesty, I apologise. I tried to tell the gentleman that he could make an appointment to see you next week.” Vern reached the front of the room at the same time as the stranger and bowed.
“Bow before your king!” King Herat looked furious that the stranger had not given the customary bow. “Bow or I’ll have you thrown in the cells!”
For several seconds the man stared at the king and then a thin smile curved his lips.
“I’m glad to see you do not tolerate disobedience,” the man said as he gave a sweeping and graceful bow. “I wish a private audience with you immediately.”
“Impossible.” The king shook his head.
“I will not wait a week to say my piece.” He didn’t seem bothered by the king’s refusal.
“Then you will not have an audience with me at all,” the king returned evenly.
“Very well, I do believe you may have preferred to see me in private…” He paused for effect and probably to make sure everyone was listening. “…father.”
CHAPTER FOUR
THE NEW PRINCE
Several seconds of silence followed the stranger’s claim. Instead of the rage that Toby expected, the king went white and his mouth sagged open in surprise.
“Morgain?” he asked in a whisper.
“I have not seen my mother for some time but she told me of my birthright.” He smiled briefly at Prince Rory before adding. “Which I have come to claim.”
“Surely you’re not going to believe this madman, father?” Prince Rory jumped to his feet.
Toby leaned forward in his seat. He had heard tales, stories of a long lost son. It was said that a woman had lived at the castle before Queen Lisan and that she and the king had a son. She disappeared one day, along with the king’s first-born, never to be seen again.
“Blaise?” The king seemed to have lost his wits as he just looked at the man, completely ignoring Prince Rory.
“Correct,” he replied and bowed low again.
Vern edged forward and coughed loudly.
“Your Majesty!” Vern spoke loudly when he was ignored.
“Yes, what is it?” King Herat looked annoyed at the interruption.
“Don’t you think we should clear the court?” Vern indicated the rapt audience who had seen far more than they ever expected to.
It was done immediately. Toby and Marc paused outside the door to see if they could hear anything more, but it was too thick to allow sound to travel through so they wandered off.
As they walked back to their room a portrait on the wall caught Toby’s eye. He moved closer and let out a gasp of surprise. The portrait was of the king in his youth and it was as if he were looking at a picture of Blaise. Prince Blaise, he corrected himself. No wonder the king didn’t hesitate to believe his claim. This could stir up all sorts of trouble, especially with the queen!
By the time Toby got back to the kitchen the only subject being discussed was the new prince. Having been present during the whole thing made Toby very popular with everyone, except Max.
**
Toby strained under the weight of the heavy tray as he climbed the steps to the king’s eating room a short time later. Normally the king shared the main dining room with his guests for the noon meal but with Prince Blaise’s unexpected arrival things had changed.
Queen Lisan looked decidedly upset. The king was looking very pleased and smiled broadly at his eldest son who sat next to him. Prince Rory had moved further down the table and was sitting as far away from his half-brother as he could. Prince Blaise grabbed hold of the bowls of food as quickly as Toby put them on the table. His plate was already heaped dangerously high but more was added from every new dish.
“We’ll present you to the kingdom on my return from the North Kingdom. Unfortunately I must leave this afternoon.” King Herat didn’t stop eating while he talked and food dribbled from his mouth. “We’ll hold a banquet in your honour and invite everyone.”
Everyone? Toby wondered if he meant the townspeople. Probably not, it would just be for the gentry and land owners.
“You have business there father?” Prince Blaise had obviously become comfortable calling him father very quickly.
“It is the yearly meeting of the Council of the Kingdoms. Rory should have become a member last year but he refuses to attend.” King Herat pointed down the table with the blade of his knife to where Prince Rory sat playing with his food.
“Really, brother.” Prince Blaise turned and raised an eyebrow in Prince Rory’s direction. “You must have strong reasons to refuse such an honour.”
“They speak only of things which are unimportant.” Prince Rory did not raise his eyes from his meal and so missed the furious stare of his father.
Toby darted in to remove some empty dishes and raced back down to the kitchen to refill them. If knives started flying he did not want to be in the way.
“More food?” Claris asked bluntly as Toby refilled the bowls and then struggled to pick up the tray. “Max, help him.”
Toby moved half the dishes to another tray for Max and headed for the door. He would rather have taken two trips himself than have Max helping him. Max caught up to Toby just as he entered the eating room and they both started unloading the fresh dishes of food.
“What about those two?” Prince B
laise was pointing at Toby and Max.
“I don’t see why not,” the king agreed good-naturedly.
What had he missed? Why was Prince Blaise so interested in Max and himself? Toby quickly finished unloading the dishes and started collecting up some empty ones. Just as he and Max were about to leave, the king called over to them.
“You two lads… When you’ve finished that report to Prince Blaise. You’re his new pages.” The king beamed at them as if he had just given them a handful of gold.
Toby bowed as he backed out of the room. He knew better than to speak without being asked to.
Claris wasn’t happy to lose two of her staff at the same time.
“Right now?” Claris threw her wooden spoon across the room and narrowly missed several people. “But what about the evening meal?”
Toby and Max stood silently, unsure what they were supposed to do.
“What’s the problem in here?” Aggie swept into the room and shot a hard look at the two of them. “Have they been causing trouble?”
“The king wants them as pages for the new prince!” Claris exploded and threw her hands up in despair. “And he wants them now!”
Aggie’s hard look disappeared, in fact she smiled. Toby guessed that she hoped it meant he wouldn’t leave when spring came.
“Well we can’t argue with the king now can we?” she said pleasantly to Claris. “Who could we replace them with by this evening?”
“My brother Tomas can come today,” Max offered quickly before Claris had a chance to speak.
“And I know a boy who would be a really hard worker,” Toby added as he thought of Marc sitting in a dark room all day to keep out of sight.
“So that’s settled,” Aggie beamed at everyone. “You two go and fetch your replacements and then report to Prince Blaise.”
Toby immediately raced for the door not waiting to see if Claris was going to object. Max hurried off as well, for once too busy to have a go at Toby.
**
By the time Toby and Max arrived at the suite assigned to the new prince he was already there.
“Ah, at last. Where have you been?” He didn’t pause long enough for an answer and from the tone of his voice he didn’t really expect one. He waved his hands around the expensively appointed rooms that boasted almost as much velvet curtaining as the king’s suite. “These rooms are far too plain for the heir to the throne.”
Toby wondered if he had missed something. Had there been a ceremony to officially announce this stranger as the new heir to the throne? He didn’t think so but he wasn’t going to bring it up.
“What would you like, Sir?” Max asked with a bow of his head.
“Sir?”
Toby could see the colour building up under Prince Blaise’s skin. His eyes, the most unattractive shade of brown Toby had ever seen, fixed on poor Max who was trying hard not to bolt from the room. A second later Max was on the ground, struck with a blow so fast that Toby didn’t even see it.
“Is that how you address your future king?”
“No… Your Highness,” Max stuttered as he scrambled to his feet and held his hand to his chin.
“Follow me and I’ll show you what I want.” Prince Blaise strode off with a relaxed smile as if he hadn’t even raised his voice, no matter his hand.
Toby followed as quickly as Max did, knowing that their new master wasn’t one to cross, ever. Their first stop surprised them both but they did not let it show. Prince Blaise walked straight into his step-brother’s suite as if he owned it. He immediately started pointing out ornaments and wall-hangings that he wanted. Toby briefly wondered what would have happened if Prince Rory had been in his suite. Nothing, Prince Rory never raised his voice and definitely not his fist. He would have stood aside and allowed his most treasured possessions to be taken. Strength was not one of the younger prince’s qualities.
The only room they didn’t go to was the king and queen’s suite, but from the lengthy time Prince Blaise paused outside the door it was clear he wanted to. The prince left them to collect the items he wanted while he skipped lightly down the stone steps that lead to the main doors, whistling off-key and smiling broadly.
It took several hours to collect all the items for the prince and it was an hour before dark when they were carrying the last item, a rolled up rug, down the hallway
“Do you believe he’s the king’s son?” Max muttered. His jaw was bruising already and would not be pretty by morning.
“It doesn’t really matter what we think,” Toby commented. A piercing scream, not a human one by the pitch, filled Toby’s head with an almost shattering pain. He dropped his end of the rug, earning him a glare from Max.
“What’ya doing?” Max demanded.
“Can’t you hear it?” Toby tried to shake the noise from his head but couldn’t.
“I can hear that dragon whimpering in the courtyard,” Max muttered sourly.
Klel! Toby jumped over the rug that Max still held one end of and dashed for the steps.
“Toby! Come back!” Max yelled after him but Toby didn’t wasn’t listening.
Klel was in pain and he had to get to him. What could have caused such pain and why was he the only one hearing it.
He reached the courtyard just as the king, mounted on a huge horse, went out the main gate. The royal carriage followed at the rear of a dozen guards. Toby knew the king would sleep away most of the trip north in the carriage, which was why they were leaving so late in the day.
Both princes and the queen stood dutifully by the left of the gate as the king left the courtyard. Toby took the chance that nobody would be looking his way and he dashed across the courtyard to Klel’s shelter. He didn’t even take the time to cover his footprints in the light dusting of snow on the ground. What he saw made him feel sick and had Klel not been so dear to him he would have turned and run.
Klel lay half curled up in the corner of his shelter with his eyes shut, whimpering and thumping his strong tail against the wall. The king, or someone ordered by him, had removed three scales from the soft underbelly of the poor creature. Toby knelt down next to his friend, unsure what he could do for him.
“Klel,” he whispered softly as he stroked the dragon’s head. “Why did he do it? Is there an illness in another kingdom?”
Unlikely. Klel wriggled, trying to find a more comfortable position and opened his eyes to look at Toby. The pain in them was horrible but Toby didn’t look away. Show off more likely.
Toby nodded in agreement. King Herat loved nothing better than to show off the golden scales. He rarely offered to heal anyone with them, which made it even worse. The scales would slowly lose their powers and Klel’s pain would have been for nothing.
“Will it take long for them to heal?” Toby looked at the open wounds on Klel’s chest, then took his shirt off and covered them with it. At least it would keep the cold air off the sensitive skin underneath.
One, not long. Two, longer. Three, much time. Klel sighed as he closed his eyes again. Thank you, Toby.
Toby looked at his friend and brushed a tear from his cheek. He could easily see where scales were removed in the past and had re-grown over the years. They were lighter in colour than the rest of his scales, and thinner too. His hatred for his king began to grow stronger.
Realising there was nothing more he could do for Klel, Toby slipped out of the shelter and ran back to the castle just as the last of the procession passed through the gates.
He stopped in his room, put on his only other shirt, and ran back up to Prince Blaise’s suite. Max was still dragging the rug across the floor and Toby picked up the other end and helped to spread it in place.
“I won’t forget this. If you get us into trouble with the prince I’ll make you sorry,” Max promised and glared at Toby.
A guard appeared at the door and waited for them to notice him.
“You’re to report to the prince in the practice yard,” he said and then rushed off back down the steps
Max pushed past Toby with a sour look. “He probably wants to use us as target practice.”
The practice yard? He must have gone there straight from seeing the king off. It seemed a strange choice for the first place to visit but Toby was fast realising that Prince Blaise was unusual.
When they arrived at the practice yard Prince Blaise was standing in the middle of the yard juggling stones as if waiting for someone. Toby and Max walked quietly up and stood several feet behind him but did not interrupt his juggling. Prince Rory was also just arriving by another archway. All practice had been suspended as everyone watched to see why the two princes were here.
“We could have met in more civilised surroundings.” Prince Rory shifted from foot to foot, looking very uncomfortable being so near weapons of war.
“Two swords, lads.” Prince Blaise spoke to Toby and Max without turning to see if they stood behind him. He obviously saw more than they thought.
Toby looked around for a familiar face and saw Nathan. Nathan tossed his sword to him and he caught it deftly by the handle then approached his new master hesitantly. Max had been given one too and he looked just as nervous. Was Prince Blaise expecting them to fight?
CHAPTER FIVE
THE PRIDE OF THE WEST
“I thought we might have a friendly bout, brother,” Prince Blaise said as he took the sword from Toby, ignoring Max.
Toby and Max moved back out of the way, relieved they weren’t going to be fighting. Prince Rory didn’t like to fight and by the look in Prince Blaise’s eyes he knew it. Why had the new prince needed anther sword though? He was wearing one that looked expensive enough to feed a family for several years.
“I don’t believe in fighting.” Prince Rory drew himself up and delivered the words with a truly prince-like command.
“Nonsense,” Prince Blaise retorted as he tossed the sword, hilt first, straight at Prince Rory and then drew his own. “Every man must be able to fight to defend his kingdom, especially the second in line for the throne.”
Prince Rory had no choice but to catch the sword. Prince Blaise gave no warning of his intent as he suddenly lunged at his unwilling opponent. Perhaps by more good luck than skill Prince Rory managed to step aside and block the attack but he was clearly unsettled by it.
