The Prince of Warwood and The War of Kings

by Clinton, J. Noel

  “Well, I have to clean out Grant’s car, and I’m grounded. Oh, and I have to publicly apologize in church Sunday and swear in front of everyone that Grant isn’t a traitor. I’m a little worried about that part of the punishment. I mean, what if God strikes me dead for lying in a church?”

  The boys expelled a sympathetic groan.

  “Man, I’m so sorry, X. We’ll help you with the car,” Beck promised.

  “No. You can’t. If you do, Grant will know you were in on it,” he told him.

  “But, X, it’s not right that you’re taking the fall for us! Just let us…”

  “No, Garrett. Seriously, guys, it’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

  Begrudgingly, the boys agreed to stay away from Grant’s residence, and the group entered the school uncharacteristically quiet.

  After lunch, Xavier sat under a large tree in the courtyard with Robbie, holding her hand.

  “Awe, looky here, Bill. The Prince of Pipsqueaks has a girlfriend. How much did you have to pay her to be with you?”

  Jonas McKnight cackled, fist bumping his thuggish-looking friend, who commented, “Good one, Jonas.”

  Xavier rolled his eyes and stood. He was very nearly as tall as Jonas. He smiled placidly at the older boy.

  “I’m not a pipsqueak that you can torment anymore, Jonas. I don’t give a crap what you think or say. Everyone knows you’re nothing more than a thug and a bully,” he growled at Jonas before turning to Robbie and holding out his hand. “Come on Robbie. Let’s go.”

  Xavier pulled Robbie to her feet just as Jonas gave him a hard shove in the back. He slammed into Robbie and the couple fell. Xavier managed to twist Robbie in mid-fall so that he wouldn’t land on top of her. Then with inches between their bodies, he caught her with his telekinesis. As Robbie hovered above him, a collective moan of appreciation surrounded them, and Xavier gently lifted Robbie to her feet. Then he climbed to his feet, dusted himself off, and flashed Jonas a pompous grin.

  “Nice try, Joney.” Xavier turned and approached Robbie. “Are you all right?”

  Robbie nodded just as a warning flashed into his thoughts, and he spun just in time to block Jonas’s electro force. Jonas’s face was twisted and reddened with anger. Xavier stood at the ready, studying the older boy and waiting for another attack. The older boy’s obscene thoughts punched into his mind.

  “Jonas! You’re mental!” Drew called out from the crowd. “Prince Wells could turn you inside out! You should have seen…”

  Suddenly, Jonas attacked again. Xavier deflected it and with a wave of his hand, he slammed Jonas to the ground, pinning him there. Jonas struggled in vain to get loose.

  “I tried to warn you,” Drew stated. “You’re in completely over your head.”

  “All right, what’s going on?” Spencer shouted, pushing through the crowd that had formed around them.

  Xavier released Jonas, and the boy scrambled to his feet, jostling his way through the crowd.

  When Michael Spencer made his way out of the crowd, he could smell the charged air. His eyes fixed on Xavier. From what he gathered from the other students’ thoughts, there had been a confrontation between the prince and Jonas McKnight, but the prince had not been the instigator and had only protected himself.

  “All right. I want everyone to clear out and get to class. Prince Wells, isn’t the king expecting you?”

  “Yes, sir.” Xavier looked back at Robbie. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  Robbie nodded.

  “Well, I better get over to the Governing Hall. See you tomorrow,” he told her, kissing her quickly before teleporting out of the school courtyard to the Governing Hall.

  When Xavier entered his father’s office, he found him at a long table with both Loren and Ephraim studying papers skewed across the table. The three men looked up as Xavier approached them. His father beckoned him with a finger.

  “So there’s no evidence of the defenses being compromised?” the king asked the generals.

  “No, sir,” Loren stated perplexed. “The wall is intact. The gatehouse was not infiltrated this time. There’s absolutely no sign of where the dark soldiers gained access.”

  Jeremiah nodded gravely and looked at Xavier. “Okay, son. Let’s see what you make of this. The dark soldiers who infiltrated the kingdom last night refused to be taken alive. Unfortunately, we cannot interrogate them or penetrate their minds to determine how they got in. So we are left with using our own detective work to determine the answer. What we know about the situation is this: the men quietly and without raising alarms gained access into Warwood; it wasn’t until they reached the palace gates that they met opposition, and there is absolutely no evidence that the men breached the palace wall or gatehouse.”

  Xavier frowned. “Maybe they flew over?”

  His father shook his head. “No. If they had, an alarm would have sounded. We have motion sensors to detect an aerial invasion such as that.”

  Xavier’s brow furrowed. “The tunnels?”

  “No. The tunnels are a well-kept secret. Only those of us that reside in the palace know about them,” Ephraim rebutted.

  The three men watched the prince as he worked through what they had already determined to be the case. Finally, Xavier’s face blanched and he looked up at his father, appalled. “Someone is helping them.”

  The king nodded. “It appears so.”

  “It could be Delegate Grant, Dad. He was so keen on overthrowing you…”

  “No, Xavier. It’s not Lucas.”

  “But, it could be!”

  “No, son. Lucas Grant wants the throne for himself. He wouldn’t support the Dark Army or LeMasters.”

  “Oh,” Xavier muttered. “Then I guess that means I still have to clean out his car and take back calling him a traitor, huh?”

  The king laughed. “Yes, son. That’s exactly what it means.”

  Both generals stifled smiles and snickers.

  Later that afternoon, Xavier entered the coliseum for his combat training and found that his cheering section had grown exponentially. There were twenty to thirty students sitting in the bleachers with drinks and popcorn that Beck was passing out from a large plastic bag. As soon as they saw Xavier, they erupted into cheers and chants, and he waved shyly at the group.

  “Keep your head in the exercise, son,” his father whispered.

  With a nod, he took his position in center field and busily tightened his protective gear. He was swinging his sword experimentally, loosening his arm and shoulder muscles when he saw his opponents and his jaw dropped. Standing across from him were about a dozen royal guards. His head jerked in alarm to his father, sending a panicked message.

  “I have to fight all of them? At once?”

  “Xavier, you need a challenge. Aside from Sir Blaire, the guards you’ve faced thus far haven’t been much of a challenge. The sheer number of opponents should prove to be a good exercise of your abilities.”

  “A good exercise of my abilities? You’ve got to be kidding me! There’s no way I’ll ever have to fight a mob of dark soldiers at once.”

  “Son, we don’t know that. I’d rather you be overly prepared than not prepared well enough,” his father scolded.

  With a bitter, indignant sigh, Xavier hissed, “Fine.”

  Scanning the group across from him, his mind raced with the best strategy. He needed to cut the number of men at least in half with his first attack to stand any chance of succeeding. To do that, he would have to send a powerful electro force down the center of the group. Then he’d simply deal with whoever was left standing. Simple. Yeah, right!

  Taking a deep breath, Xavier stood at the ready and waited for the exercise to begin.

  The king’s voice called out over the field, “Everyone ready? Gentlemen, don’t hesitate and don’t go easy on the prince. He won’t go easy on you. Most importantly, don’t make the assumption that since you outnumber the boy twelve to one that he will be an easy mark.” The king paused, glanced at his so
n and back to the group of soldiers. More than likely, Xavier would be overwhelmed by the sheer number of opponents and would fail in this exercise, but that would provide him something to strive to accomplish. He needed this challenge. The boy couldn’t become too complacent. Complacency was a sure path to carelessness and laziness. “All right, gentlemen. Begin the exercise.”

  Suddenly the group of men charged him, and Xavier felt a strong urge to flee. Instead, he lowered his sword a fraction, produced an electro force in the palm of his hand and propelled it toward the center of the group rushing him. The force hit dead center and took out nearly half the group. Cheers erupted loudly from the stands, and the chanting grew louder.

  “Prince Xavier! Prince Xavier!”

  But he had no time to bask in the cheers and celebration, for the men that remained were answering his attack with forces of their own. He barely managed to conjure a blocking force in time, and the guards’ electro forces bounced harmlessly away.

  His cheering section released a loud collective moan.

  “Come on, mate! You can do it!” Court’s voice rang out above the others.

  “Yeah, X. Kick some butt!” Beck shouted.

  Xavier looked back at the remaining men. Seven men were still too many to fight at once. He needed to decrease their numbers again and fast because they were closing in on him. He noticed the group to his right had spread out strategically in their approach, but the left group remained close together, making them an easy target. With a swirling motion of his hand, a blazing ring of fire encircled the men, reaching at least ten feet into the sky, trapping them.

  Another loud burst of rambunctious support exploded from his cheering section, and Xavier smiled. Feeling confident and a bit cocky, he lifted his sword and faced the three remaining men. They attacked at once from different sides. Just as their swords were inches from him, Xavier teleported ten feet from his opponents and watched as they ran into each other before collapsing in a heap. Xavier grinned as the crowd roared with laughter and shouts.

  “Missed me!” Xavier boasted.

  The men scrambled to their feet and charged at the boy with swords raised. Again, Xavier teleported and stood behind the men, watching smugly as they swung at empty air.

  “Woohoo! Go Xavier!” a girl shouted, elated and laughing.

  This time he struck the men as they turned to face him with a force that sent them airborne thirty feet backwards before they fell hard to the ground. One man screamed out in pain as he awkwardly landed on his shoulder. He managed to climb to his feet and stagger to the sideline, where Loren stood mending injured guards from Xavier’s initial attack.

  Only two men remained.

  Ha! Easy! Xavier thought with a smirk as he raised his sword and cheekily beckoned the men with his hand.

  A groan of appreciation came from his friends.

  This time the guards didn’t openly attack. Instead, the men began circling the boy, looking for a weakness or an opening. The boy appeared overly confident and that could be used against him. The higher-ranking guard made eye contact with his subordinate and gave him a hand signal that only guards knew. The younger guard nodded his understanding and the pair continued to circle Xavier.

  Suddenly the younger man lunged at the prince, and Xavier turned to meet the attack. Then the hair on the back of his neck stood at attention as he felt a second attack coming from behind him. Xavier dropped to the ground and rolled, tripping and knocking the higher-ranking guard off his feet. The guard fell heavily on top of him, and he grunted as an elbow or knee, something hard and pointy jabbed painfully into his groin. Coughing and feeling close to vomiting, Xavier curled up into a fetal position, trying to remember how to breathe. Slowly the man stood and pressed his blade against his neck.

  “You are dead, your highness,” he whispered, panting.

  Xavier eyed the man resentfully. The guard had done it on purpose, he realized. He had intentionally hit him in the nuts to gain the upper hand. Xavier opened his mouth to tell the man off but only managed a wheezing sound followed by a bone-racking cough.

  “Well done, Sergeant Hensley, Private Jones,” the king praised as he brushed past them and knelt next to Xavier. “Are you all right, son?”

  Xavier hissed in a breath and shook his head. “N… no,” he managed before coughing.

  Without a word, the king nodded and held his hands over Xavier. A bright white light engulfed father and son, and when it disappeared, the pain was gone. Not quite trusting that the pain was truly gone, Xavier gingerly got to his feet. The king smiled and clamped him on the back.

  “Better?”

  Xavier nodded and glared up at Sergeant Hensley. “That was a low, rotten thing to do, man.”

  The sergeant shrugged indifferently. “Young sire, this is combat. There’s no such thing as a low or rotten strategy if it gets the job done.”

  Xavier stepped angrily toward the guard, but his father intervened.

  “Son, Sergeant Hensley is right. You do whatever you can to survive and win the fight. With that being said,” the king grinned, “you did a spectacular job! You took on a dozen soldiers and wiped out ten of them! I think you may have gotten a little cocky with Sergeant Hensley and Private Jones though. If you hadn’t toyed with them and simply gone for a kill strike, you wouldn’t have lost.”

  His father was right. He had allowed his success to go to his head and it had cost him. It wouldn’t happen again.

  Chapter 15

  Weeks drifted by at a snail’s pace, and a couple of days before the royal wedding, Xavier’s grounding came to an end. The pending marriage had the entire kingdom alive with excitement and gossip. The academy closed early for the weekend so that every citizen could participate in the preparations.

  On the last day of school two days before the wedding, the king canceled Xavier’s training until after the wedding.

  “I don’t want you injured. How can you be my best man if you’re too hurt to attend?”

  “I can… what? Your best man? Me? What about Loren or Ephraim?”

  “They’ll be there as my groomsmen, of course, but my best man can only be you, son.”

  He stared at his father’s smiling face before smiling back shyly. “Thanks, Dad. That means a lot.”

  The king yanked him into a breath-smothering hug. Then, kissing the boy’s crown, he whispered, “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

  He smiled slyly at his father. “Why? What’s the matter, getting cold feet?”

  Jeremiah’s laugh boomed out, and he trapped his son in another bear hug. “No. No cold feet.”

  Xavier hugged his father tight and said in earnest, “Really, Dad. I’m okay with it. I’m more than okay with it. I’d give anything to have mom here with us, but… she can’t so…” His voice faded as his thoughts lingered on his mother. He still missed her—every day. When he first came to live with his father, he used to daydream what his life would have been like if his mother had lived. She would have come to live with them in Warwood. She was a common, but that wouldn’t have mattered. She was the Queen of Warwood, and the people would have loved her! Grudgingly, he pulled away from his father’s warmth.

  “Your mother was a beautiful bride,” Jeremiah whispered.

  “Did you love her?” Xavier blurted. Where had that come from? And why did he suddenly feel close to tears? Blinking rapidly, he turned away from his father and his all-knowing eyes and busily fidgeted with a vase of flowers on the long conference table.

  “Xavier, son, look at me,” the king ordered softly.

  Quickly wiping his eyes, he reluctantly faced the king. Jeremiah studied the boy’s face a moment before standing, approaching him, and placing his hands on the boy’s shoulders.

  “Xavier, I loved your mother very much; I still do. Nothing will ever change that. I am a very lucky man to have found that kind of love again. Lana is not your mother. The love I feel for her isn’t the same as what I felt for Julia, but it’s just as strong, just as
powerful. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  Xavier nodded and whispered, “Yes, Dad. I understand.”

  “And,” the king added, placing his hands on either side of the boy’s face to ensure he had his complete attention. “It’s okay for you to love Lana. It’s okay to feel happy to have a mother again. She’ll never take your mother’s place in your heart, but your heart is more than big enough to love two mothers.”

  Xavier couldn’t stop the tears from flooding his eyes this time. “Really? I… I’m not betraying mom?”

  The king’s grip tightened in earnest, and he said stoutly, “No, you are not betraying your mother’s memory at all.”

  The tears spilled down his cheeks, and he tried to speak, to thank his father for easing his guilty conscious for wanting Lana to be his new mother, for wanting his father to marry her, for wanting a complete family. He couldn’t speak, so he simply buried his face into his father chest and tried to stop the continuous stream of tears from flowing.

  The king’s arms wrapped around him, and he simply held him until the tears ended. Finally, Jeremiah held his son at arm’s length and wiped the tears from his cheeks.

  “Let’s take the rest of the day off. What do you think?”

  Xavier gave a watery grin. “That would be great.”

  * * * * *

  Xavier knocked on his father’s bedroom door. “Dad?”

  The door flew open suddenly, and Loren stood grinning broadly down at him. “Your father is having a bit of a panic attack,” he chuckled as he stepped aside to let Xavier into the room. “He swears I’ve hidden his royalty sash.” Loren rolled his eyes and leaned in to whisper, “It’s draped over the patio door, where he put it ten minutes ago. Henrick and I are holding a wager on how long it will take him to remember. Want in?”

  Xavier snickered, shaking his head as he entered the room.

  “Now where’s my goddamned tie?” Jeremiah spat, stomping out of the bathroom to where an amused Henrick and Ephraim stood.