“So… are you saying… what are you saying?”
“I’m saying I will know if my plan works when I return to my time. Time travel is messy and complicated, young sire.” Abe paused to study the boy. Xavier needed to know the rules that govern time bending and time changing. He must tell the boy and pray he was old enough to understand.
With a deep breath, Abe began carefully. “Remember what I told you at Mirror Lake? About the three types of destinies? I don’t think the survival of the king would create adverse effects, but I must be certain it won’t before I can follow through with my plan. At the same time, I must commit to the plan in order to see if it will work.”
“Uh, so… what you’re saying is you’ve got to decide to tell me to do something to change the future before you can tell if it’ll work?” Xavier surmised.
Abe raised a brow, impressed. The boy was bright, very bright. He chuckled at the irony in such a thought. “Yes, that’s exactly it.”
“But… you’ve decided, right? So why don’t you know if it will work out?”
“I won’t know until I return to my time, my world.”
Xavier frowned. “But… you knew at King’s Mountain… that time you disappeared,” Xavier shuddered at the memory of the prophet’s death, his slaughter.
The prophet nodded gravely. “Yes, well, that was a very different circumstance, young sire. What happened that day was a result of a very poor decision on your part. It nearly got you killed! If your father and his generals hadn’t seen my demise, they wouldn’t have taken such heed. If they hadn’t witnessed my death, they would have spent hours debating and determining where you’d gone. You and I both know that if they had been even one minute later, you would have been killed,” the prophet remarked in a rough voice.
Xavier looked up at the old man and was taken aback by the anger he saw in the man’s face. He quickly looked away from Abe’s intense gaze.
“That decision nearly got us both killed! You need to realize that a man’s actions don’t just affect him! His actions affect the people closest to him. This is exponentially true for you, sire. You are the Chosen! Your decisions affect all of mankind!”
Xavier’s shoulders dropped as guilt weighed heavier and heavier on him. Finally, he managed a soft, “Sorry.”
The prophet expelled a large sigh and stretched back in the chair, the spindles creaking in protest at the movement. “I know you are, Xavier,” he said softly. Leaning forward in the chair once more, the prophet returned the conversation back to time bending laws. “But as for time bending and changing, when I return to my time, having made the decision to intervene, I will be able to see the results of that intervention.” Abe saw the hope gush into the boy’s face, and he rushed to interrupt his excessive enthusiasm. “No, Xavier. He will not be alive. He won’t be alive until after the plan is implemented and completed. However, I have the ability to see alternate realities once I’ve committed to intervening. So I’ll be able to determine if the actions are successful and what it will do to the future of the kingdom.”
“Sir? You told me at Mirror Lake that you’d only interfere with destinies that must be changed. Why are you helping me now with Dad? Is he one of those destinies that have to be changed?” Xavier questioned.
The prophet seemed to shrink. He looked guiltily back at Xavier before responding. “No. His destiny does not adversely affect the future of the kingdom. There were a few issues early on, but it all worked out.”
“Then why are you doing all this? Why are you helping me?” Xavier asked.
At first, Xavier didn’t think he would answer. But finally, after a deep breath, Abe responded, “I guess I’m just as anxious as you to see that the stubborn, hard-headed git lives to torment us all for years to come.”
Xavier laughed. “Yeah, imagine being that git’s son. The tormenting is much worse!”
Abe’s smirk widened. “No imagining necessary, young sire.”
Xavier laughed and watched as the prophet stood and returned the chair to its rightful place.
“Well, you better get back to bed. You’ve got a lot of work to do,” he announced, winking at him.
Xavier grinned. “Yes, sir. Good night.”
“Good night, Xavier,” the prophet responded and then vanished with a soft pop. Xavier stared at the empty air where the prophet had stood just a heartbeat ago.
Chapter 4
The next morning, Xavier strolled into the dining hall with a large smile. “Morning, Dad!” he said cheerfully, kissing the king noisily on the cheek.
Jeremiah choked on his tea. “Morning, son. What’s put you in such a good mood?” he asked, eyeing the boy with amused suspicion.
“What can I say? Home life agrees with me!” Xavier beamed.
Jeremiah laughed. “Yeah, I can see that,” he commented, glancing at his watch. “But since when did you get up before the crack of eight without a cattle prod?” he joked.
“Well… never, but I wanted to ask you something before you left for work.”
The king laid down his fork and wiped his mouth with his napkin before giving Xavier his full attention. “All right. What is it, son?”
“Can the guys and I have a campout by the lake tonight?”
With a grin, the king answered, “I don’t see why not.” Seeing the boy’s eager expression, he probed, “Is there something more you wish to discuss?”
“Well, yeah. I was wondering if… sometime today… if you had time in your schedule, could we do a bit of training? I’d like to start working on my telepathy and blocking capabilities.”
Jeremiah looked at his son, dumbfounded. The boy had always fought him on working on his telepathic abilities. “You’re asking me to work with you on your blocking power?”
“Yes, sir. I…” Xavier’s mind raced for a reason. “I don’t want Fox to be able to get into my head and use Robbie and how I feel about her against me.”
Jeremiah nodded. “No, neither do I. It’s a hard thing to live with when it happens,” he told him roughly.
Xavier realized his father wasn’t speaking hypothetically. He had experienced it first-hand with Xavier’s mother. A hard lump constricted his throat. Xavier had always felt responsible for how his mother had been taken, tortured, and killed by William LeMasters. He never told anyone that he had witnessed what had been done to her before and during her slaughter. He knew she had been beaten, tortured, abused, and raped. He had seen it all unfold in his dreams—his visions. But he had never considered the guilt his father carried over her death. Suddenly his father made a lot of sense to him. He couldn’t help but feel his sadness and loneliness. Xavier sank into the chair next to his father.
“That’s why you pushed Lana away at the mountain, isn’t it?” Xavier whispered.
The king stared at him for a moment before answering. “Yes. All the memories and feelings I felt when I found your mother came rushing back when I saw what William was doing to those he captured who had remained loyal to me. I couldn’t allow Lana to suffer for loving me the way your mother had.”
Xavier stared unseeingly at his feet for a moment. He shuddered at the thought of those things happening to Robbie. He looked up at his father.
“I saw what happened to her, to mom, in that nightmare I had at my grandparents when you went after her. I… I saw everything they did to her. How they tied her down and sent electro forces into her body; how that… that witch Dr. Angelo sent pain into her over and over again until Mom just… passed out. But they wouldn’t let her stay unconscious. They’d bring her back and do it all over again. And,” Xavier took a shaky breath, trying to calm the emotions rippling through him. “Both Danson and William… they… they raped her.”
Pain and devastation flashed across the king’s features. “Yes, they did,” he remarked, his voice breaking. After a deep breath, the king continued, “Dub told me he believed that you had a post-monition that night. And, from what little I got from you, I knew you’d seen the worst.”
Xavier rushed to continue. “I had always thought it would have never happened if I hadn’t run away, if she hadn’t been out looking for me. I blamed myself for her death for the longest time.”
“Xavier, it was never…”
“Dad, let me finish, please!” Xavier urged, and the king nodded. “I had always thought I was at fault for her death, and that they killed her because of me. Then Maggie and Dublin were both killed too. That’s why I ran off to face LeMasters on my own. I didn’t want anyone else dying for me, sacrificing themselves to protect me. But I now realize that none of that was my fault. William would have taken Mom no matter what I did. So I guess what I’m trying to say is that it wasn’t me… and it wasn’t you either, Dad. It was that evil, sick man who was responsible. I’m not completely sure that he wasn’t truly the Dark King. I mean, everything he touched turned evil or was destroyed. But it was never our fault,” Xavier finished, his voice wavering.
Tears had filled the king’s eyes, and he stared at his son with awe and admiration. “When did you get so smart?” he ribbed with a watery smile. “Come here and give your dad a hug.”
Grinning sheepishly, Xavier stood and stepped toward Jeremiah. Jeremiah yanked him into his lap and kissed him on the forehead before nearly squeezing the life out of him.
“Ah, Dad,” Xavier squeaked. “I can’t breathe!”
The king released him with a good-natured smack to the butt before standing, clearing his throat, and returning to the subject. “I have meetings all morning, but I should be free for a couple of hours after lunch. I can be home by one, and we can work on your telepathy for an hour and follow with an hour of combat training. I’d like Sir Blair to come so we can expand your combat techniques. I think you’ve grown too familiar with Loren and Ephraim’s fighting styles.”
Xavier grimaced in response. He never got along with Sir Blair. He was quite certain the professor didn’t like him much.
“Plus, at nine this morning, you’ll accompany Ephraim and his family to Nottingham’s to be fitted for new school uniforms.”
“But there’s only a couple months left of school. What’s the point?” Xavier whined.
“Son, your old uniforms will no longer fit you, and you need to go to school,” Jeremiah said with barely contained patience. “Besides, while you were at the mountain, the legislature voted to extend schooling to a year-round schedule with a two-week break at the end of each term. We felt it best in order to prepare students for war. When the war comes, the enemy won’t just attack and kill adults. Everyone needs to be able to defend themselves and their kingdom.”
Xavier nodded.
“While I’m on the topic of school, I’m working with Michael to make some necessary changes to your schedule.”
Xavier felt the blood leave his face. “Changes? Like what?”
“You will go to school in the morning for your core classes, but your empowerment classes are no longer challenging enough. So after lunch you will report to the Governing Hall. We will work for an hour on telepathy. Then for a couple of hours, you will shadow me so that you can learn the duties of a king.”
Xavier snickered. “Will there be quizzes?”
“Son, your crown, your rule will be your quiz,” his father remarked, raising a brow. “And the last hour and a half, you will work on your combat training. Your empowerments will be worked into that training.”
“Wait! So… I’m only going to school half the day, but I still end up working for over an hour longer than I would have if I’d just stayed in school all day?” Xavier frowned. “Dad, with at least an hour of homework each night from my core classes, I won’t have any time to hang out with my friends or Robbie!”
Jeremiah sighed. He could feel a teenage temper tantrum building in the boy. “Xavier, there’s a war coming! You must be prepared to fight and succeed. You must learn how to take over my rule if something were to happen to me.”
Xavier froze. An intense sinking feeling left him reeling and depressed. Then he remembered the prophet’s plans, and he shook away the negative feelings. “Yeah. Okay. You’re right.”
Jeremiah’s brow rose with surprise, and he shook his head. “All right then. Be back at the palace at one, and we’ll practice telepathy before working on your combat training. Then you’re a free man to spend the rest of your day as you wish.”
Xavier grinned and saluted his father mockingly. “Yes, sire!”
Jeremiah rolled his eyes as he kissed Xavier’s head. “Cheeky prince. I’ll see you later.”
At a quarter till nine, Xavier followed the Hardcastles out of the palace and into a waiting limo. Henrick drove the group the short distance to Nottingham’s.
“Okay, boys. Xavier, Court, and Dennis need to be fitted for uniforms. I’ll take you three. Caleb, your mom will take you to get your new tennis shoes. Drew, you can handle your errands on your own. Don’t lollygag! Get what you need and meet us back here. Be on your best behavior, boys, or I’ll bust your backsides! Clear?”
“Yes, sir,” the boys mumbled together.
The group split into their separate ways as Xavier followed Ephraim, Dennis and Court into the shop. The shop was void of customers, but almost immediately, Mr. Nottingham hurried toward them with an enormous smile.
“Ephraim! It’s good to see you! I’m sure you’re happy to be back with your family full-time,” he bellowed, shaking the general’s hand.
“Thanks, Jon. I sure am,” Ephraim answered before nodding to the boys. “Two of mine need re-fitting. They’ve outgrown their uniforms.”
Mr. Nottingham’s eyes smiled down at the boys. As his eyes fell on Xavier, his grin broadened. “Hello, young sire! It’s so good to have you home!” he commented, shaking Xavier’s hand enthusiastically.
“Thank you, Mr. Nottingham. It’s great to be home!”
Jon Nottingham’s eyes raked down the prince’s body before commenting, “No need to tell me why you’re here, Prince Wells. It looks as if you’ve grown half a foot since I saw you last. You’re going to need a complete set of new uniforms.”
Xavier smiled. “Yes, sir.”
“Right this way then, sire,” he ordered, bowing and gesturing toward the back of the room.
Xavier led the group into the measurement room. Both Court and Dennis flopped into chairs against the wall while Mr. Nottingham led Xavier to a stool. Xavier stepped onto the stool while Mr. Nottingham collected a tablet and a measuring tape. He whistled softly as he set to work measuring every inch of Xavier’s body.
For no other reason than to take his mind off of the intrusive task, Xavier asked his friend, “Hey, Court. Dad says I have tonight free. What do you think about having a campout at the lake with the guys?”
Court’s face lit up. “That would be sweet.” Court looked up expectantly at his father. “Can I go, Dad?”
Ephraim smiled. “As long as you and Caleb finish cleaning up that pigsty you call a room, and you do what your mother asked you to do this morning without giving her cheek.”
“Yes, sir,” Court answered dutifully, but the moment his father’s back was turned he made a face and mimicked him.
Dennis stared at his younger brother before rolling his eyes and returning back to the book he was reading.
“You want to come, Dennis?” Xavier asked suddenly.
Court’s jaw dropped. Dennis looked just as surprised as his brother, his gaze jumping between Court and Xavier. Finally, he answered, “Um… no, thank you, Prince Wells. I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
Xavier saw Court exhale visibly, but he ignored it. “I think it is. Look, if you want to come, you should come. It’ll be fun.”
Again, Dennis’s eyes darted between Xavier and his brother. “I don’t know…”
“Hey, Dennis,” Xavier probed gently, “do you want to go with us to the lake?”
Dennis’s eyes fixed on Xavier as he considered the question. “Well, kinda, yeah. Can I invite Terry?”
“Sure
. Why not?”
Dennis grinned. “Great! Okay. What time?”
Court groaned and rolled his eyes.
Again, Xavier ignored him. “I’ll come get you and Court at say… 6:30. Okay?”
“All right. I’m all done, sire. You can step down, now,” Mr. Nottingham announced, patting Xavier’s shoulder. Xavier stepped down and turned and shook the man’s hand. “Thank you, Mr. Nottingham.”
The man grinned broadly. “Any time, sire.”
“Courtney? Dennis? Who’s next?” Ephraim questioned.
“Dennis can go,” Court grumbled, eyeing Xavier grumpily.
Dennis stood and went to where Jon Nottingham stood waiting. Xavier slouched into the chair next to Court.
“Why in the hell did you do that?” he hissed quietly.
“What?” Xavier whispered.
“Invite the king of geeks, you git!”
“Because he wanted to come,” Xavier answered.
“No, he didn’t, not until you asked him anyways,” Court spat.
Xavier glared at his friend. “I’m soooo sorry,” he sang condescendingly. “When did you become telepathic?”
“I don’t have to be to know that he and Terry will be dead weight! He’ll probably tell Dad and Mum everything we do! He’s the world’s biggest wanker!”
“He won’t tell on you. He feels left out, Court. Come on, mate. Don’t be like this.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re an only child. You have no idea what it’s like to have someone always ratting on you. God! Why don’t you just invite Caleb while you’re at it?” Court complained, sulking.
“Okay, Courtney. You’re up,” Ephraim’s voice called him over to the stool as Dennis moved to sit next to Xavier.
The Prince of Warwood and The War of Kings Page 4
