The Four Tales Page 14

  King Tritium nodded and patted his son’s shoulder. Sitting straighter, he filled in the blanks, “Alasdair had a daughter. You cared for her, didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” Simon admitted, “We became friends. She—Cassie was sweet and funny. It was hard, when I heard about her house being burnt. She and her family were inside.”

  “Oh, Simon,” the king sighed. “I am so sorry. I will have Atkins look into it and ensure their family is buried properly.”

  Simon nodded and whispered, “Thanks.”

  “There is one nice outcome about these events,” King Tritium revealed.

  “What?” Simon couldn’t ascertain what it could be.

  “You’ve come home after years away, and we’ve fallen into our normal routine. You sigh and pout, I wiggle the truth out of you, and afterward we’re on equal footing again.”

  “Did you just call my loss of friends, pouting?” Simon reared his head up and glared.

  “No,” his father shook his head. “I didn’t mean it that way at all. I guess I was thinking of you being a headstrong pre-teen again. I wasn’t making light of your loss. Those people you lost are also my people. The only thing I meant was it’s nice we can still talk like we used to.”

  Simon chuckled. “You’re right. I didn’t think of it in those terms. I’m glad you always take time to listen to me. Even if I am pigheaded and selfish.”

  “Throwing my words back at me, are you, my boy?”

  “If the shoe fits,” Simon spouted.

  “Ah-ha, I see. Well, I’m glad we were able to talk this out. I don’t want you going off like you did again, though. Do you understand?”

  “I do, Father. However, don’t you think I’m a little old for mandates on where I can or can’t go?”

  “Simon, the only thing I’m wanting out of you is the common curtesy of telling me where you’re going and when. You might not realize it, but you’re still a prince. Your actions reflect on us all. Not to mention your safety, that’s a priority even in times of peace.”

  “I understand.”

  “Good! Now, we can at least be on the same page. We’re taking up Captain Kincaid’s story. You were on a secret mission to ferret out any spies and learn more about Ammandon’s connections. Clear?”

  “Absolutely,” Simon concurred.

  “Excellent. I’ll tell Rupert to have the men return. You’ll need to hear what they have to say. If we can’t come up with an idea or other avenues to gain information, we’ll have to settle with being reactive instead of proactive,” the king told him while walking to the door.

  Simon rested against the back of his chair and waited for the councilmen and scholars to enter the room. They greeted him again as they shuffled to their seats. Folders and books open on the table before several of them, they glanced through them before turning their attention to the king.

  Nodding at his advisor, King Tritium regained his seat and waited for Atkins to continue where they had left off.

  “Sire, can the prince tell us what he saw during his own reconnaissance?” Atkins requested.

  “Simon?” the king invited him.

  Clearing his throat, Simon glimpsed around the table at the eyes now pinned on him. Swallowing, he focused on Atkins and began to recite what he’d seen the night of the bright light attack.

  “It was over in seconds,” Simon finished

  “Extraordinary,” Scholar Kennedy announced.

  Simon often wondered how he and their stable master could be related. Kennedy was one of the nicest men Simon had ever met while his cousin Scholar Kennedy was one of the most cantankerous. Ignoring his inner thoughts, Simon nodded at the man.

  “Indeed, it was. I didn’t see where it originated from or who could have started it. However, it got me thinking about what I’d heard earlier that night.”

  “About what?” Scholar Kennedy butted in again.

  Simon met Atkins eyes before proceeding, “Well, Delano was one of the men in my unit. He was the grandson of the man who saw the first bright light. He told us the story of what happened. So, I pondered what he said and came up with my own question.”

  “What?” Scholar Kennedy took over again.

  Atkins lifted a shoulder when Simon looked at him again. “Have you talked to the blacksmith who saw the light?” he asked.

  “No,” Adviser Atkins sounded surprised as he answered. “What could the man tell us beyond what we've already seen and heard? We have the accounts of those who were at the ball that night as well. It would be repetitive information.”

  “Perhaps not,” Simon countered. “I think we should ask him to come here. We need to know anything and everything he saw. His knowledge may be firsthand since his lodging is on the outskirts of the kingdom. It wouldn't hurt to get information from him.”

  Atkins looked around the table and then to King Tritium for his decision. After a few seconds, King Tritium nodded.

  “I will see to it this minute,” Atkins stood and left the room.

  Scholar Kennedy grunted. “This will be another waste of time. We’ve already looked through all the old accounts. We need action.”

  “That’s what we’re trying to have, Scholar Kennedy,” the king spoke up. “We need to be thorough. There’s always a chance some piece of the account was overlooked. It never hurts to try. Do we have any other ideas, gentlemen?”

  Thinking, Simon turned to his father and asked another question.

  “Father, do you recall anything about that night? Do you recall the exact words of the witch when she visited you to tell you of the curse?”

  King Tritium stared at his son for a few minutes without speaking. “I do. How will that help? Her words were a bunch of nonsense.”

  “I don't know yet, but there may be a clue to her defeat tucked inside the gibberish. Do you think you could write down what you remember?”

  A nod followed a pause. Paper was found and as the king wrote, Simon asked, “Will the Stay of Arms continue through the end of this ball or will it be rescinded afterward?”

  “Immediately afterward if no truce is enacted,” Councilman Jacobs answered. Spokesman after Adviser Atkins, he took over the conversation. “The whole plan is based on King Ammandon’s terms of peace. If he can’t be persuaded to end the war, we will be reacting to his decision.”

  “Will he be permitted to leave then? If he’s here, can’t we detain him if he chooses to disagree with us?”

  “We could,” Jacobs answered. “However, it isn’t part of our Code of Conduct during the act of a truce. The Code specifies he would be able to leave under his own volition and without retribution from us. The truce would be held by us until he is back on his own land.”

  “That sounds ridiculous. What would happen if we refused to let him go?”

  “It’s not a sound practice,” Jacobs announced, “We’d be violating the truce treaty. He is here to hear our terms and agree or disagree to them. The truce remains in effect until after he returns home. If we were to revoke those terms and keep him here against his will, it would still mean all out war. His army would come against us without mercy in an attempt to free him.”

  “I see,” Simon said. “So, would it change the terms of the truce if a cottage was burnt down, killing four people two days before the truce was enacted?”

  “What?” Scholar Kennedy roared.

  “He was already that far past our borders?”

  “What do you mean two days before the truce was enacted?”

  “Where was this cottage located? How far has he trespassed into our lands?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He burned a cottage?”

  “What's this?”

  “Impossible!”

  The outburst was significant and immediate. Simon listened for a moment and noted his father’s eyes on him. They seemed to be calculating what purpose this question held.

  Adviser Atkins walked in at that moment and took over at once. He calmed the men and asked what had h
appened.

  “Prince Simon has informed us of a cottage burning on the southwest, which happened two days before the Stay of Arms.”

  “Impossible,” Atkins stated firmly. “There's no way he could have done so. We received word the day a few days after Timmon’s men were killed. We sent out word to King Ammandon for a call to truce, and the Stay of Arms went out the same day. Riders were exhausted by the passing of messages.”

  “He got one last house,” Simon replied, “I want to know how his men snuck in?”

  “A good question,” Scholar Kennedy complained. “Where were our men?”

  “Was the home burnt by fire or the bright light?” Councilman Jacobs inquired.

  “It must be a mistake,” Atkins tried to calm the men.

  “No one know how the fire was started. None of the neighbors claim to have seen the bright light in the area. However, they did see the smoke and came running to assist the family. It was too late.”

  Members shook their heads, grumbles were heard, but Adviser Atkins stayed calm.

  “Prince Simon, I do not mean to contradict you, but we weren't alerted to any of King Ammandon's men getting through our southwest border. Captain Everett reported all was clear. He would have let us know if a troop of King Ammandon's men got through and burned a home. Was it only one?”

  “Yes,” Simon replied.

  Atkins paused a moment. His head tilted to the left, thinking over the problem. Light dawned in his eyes as he thought about what Simon had told him.

  “I think I actually remember this cottage. Yes, King, don't you recall? It came to our ears after the truce had been sent out. I think it had been done before word reached the troops ears. I will send a man there immediately to check and have him see about this burning. If King Ammandon did allow this to happen after or in spite of our Stay of Arms, then he will be confronted.”

  “I want more of a confrontation,” Simon muttered.

  The reaction of those around the table included cleared throats and shifted eyes.

  “Is there some reason King Ammandon might have wanted this particular cottage burned?” Atkins asked, with narrowed eyes on Simon's face.

  “Not of what I know,” Simon told them.

  “How do you know of this burning?”

  “I heard it from Captain Kincaid’s men,” Simon responded.

  Atkins nodded and took him at his word.

  “Father, do you have what the witch said written down?”

  “Yes. Would you like me to read it now?”

  “The witch told you something, King Tritium?” Atkins looked confused.

  “No, Atkins. This was long ago when my engagement was announced. The witch sent a letter to the castle to tell me of the curse. Simon wanted me to write it down. He thinks there might be something to her words.”

  “The words of a witch are useless,” Councilman Jacobs muttered.

  Atkins, however, nodded. “That may be helpful. A stable boy has gone to ask the blacksmith to come. I will send out another to get information on this cottage. We'll talk more later, Prince Simon.”

  Simon nodded, but was aware of Atkins’s scrutiny.

  “Here is what I recall of her words,” King Tritium began. “'You have become engaged, Tritium, to the Princess, I hear. I warned you of my fury if you were to take this step. You have promised your love to me, and you have gone against your word. Liars must pay a steep price.’”

  The king paused. “She goes on, ‘Did you notice the light last night? You should know it was me. I was not joking when I told you I would have my vengeance if you went through with this engagement. Now, you will have the consequences. My curse will reign down as if fire has conquered the Heavens.’”

  “’Your kingdom will breathe the smoke of death and burn. No one will stop my fury. When all aligns and the death of one becomes the death of many, he will arise from the ashes and destroy you and all you hold dear. These are my words, and so shall it be.'”

  Everyone listened intently with the hope of finding an answer in the insane woman's words. Unfortunately, no one could understand her ramblings. Even the Scholars sat with narrowed eyes, furrowed brows, and pinched lips.

  Simon took the paper from his father's grasp and looked over the words.

  “Well, if we just concentrate on the last part, we might have a breakthrough. Scholar James, do you think you and your men could try to interpret any secret meaning in these words? Any clue which might lead us to her ultimate method? She mentions fire, so perhaps she means to burn us all? Like, with the bright light?”

  “It is highly likely she means it since her words indicate so,” Scholar James said with a nod.

  “Then maybe you and your team could help us figure out how she will use this fire. Does she create it herself? Is it the light I have seen? The light that burnt the forest and Timmon's men?”

  They all looked at each other as if they wanted to ask Simon more questions about his knowledge of the light, burnt forest, and Timmon's men, but they held their tongues.

  “Our research leads us to believe that may be possible.” Scholar Jacobs agreed.

  “What about this 'reign down as if fire has conquered the Heavens'? Do you suppose that might indicate some form of a fire storm? Could she do that?”

  “The elements of the world are susceptible to dark powers. I am sure she could construct some type of fire storm. If we knew exactly how she means to strike, then we could make a sound defense.” Scholar James shook his head. “Until we know more, we are only shooting in the dark.”

  Simon nodded. He could understand. If only they did know and could act now.

  “King Ammandon is coming tonight?”

  “Yes,” King Tritium answered, “I am hoping if I ply him with enough of our kingdom's finest wines, food, and beautiful company that he will consider dropping the matter. Perhaps an alliance with one of our daughters will help appease him. The councilmen have all agreed to such an alliance if it will help us avert war. However, since we suspect his involvement with the witch, a union with our country may not succeed.”

  “Do you really think allowing him to marry one of our own will make matters easier? King Ammandon strikes me as a man who likes to have his cake and eat it too,” Simon argued. “After what the King's men did to that cottage, I am not certain this will be a sound plan. I will not put any of our people at risk from him.”

  “Your concerns are noted, but we must do what is necessary to establish peace once again between our two kingdoms. I hope his willingness to call a Stay of Arms and attend the ball is an indication that peace is still attainable. There might be something we can give to him that the witch cannot.”

  “Or it might be a trap,” Simon countered.

  This had everyone protesting within seconds. No one wanted to even consider it as a possibility. However, after a few initial objections, everyone fell into a contemplative silence. Turning the prospect over in their minds gave it new life, and they each had the uncomfortable feeling it could be true.

  “We will double the guards and send a messenger to the front lines to ensure they are prepared for any tricks,” Atkins responded.

  “I will give you leave to study these words and see what you may discover,” King Tritium passed the note to the Scholars, who took his words as dismissal, and stood to continue their own work.

  “We shall be on our guard tonight. We will mingle with King Ammandon's men and see what we may learn of the bent of their leader's mind.”

  The council members bowed at Councilman Kennedy's words and prepared to leave.

  King Tritium dismissed them with a nod, and Adviser Atkins bowed out as well.

  “I hadn’t thought about it being a trap,” King Tritium muttered, “Although, now you bring up the idea, I’m surprised it hadn’t occurred to me before now. King Ammandon would pull something like that. Do you think the witch will come with him?”

  Before Simon could reply, Queen Arlyn stuck her head in the door after a short
knock.

  “Simon!” she cried. “I heard you had returned. Finally!”

  She rushed forward to embrace her son. After seven years of only letters, Simon closed his eyes, and the last few months disappeared. It had been a long time since he’d been hugged by his mother. Her arms were tight around him, making him feel like a little boy all over again. His arms tightened around her, and he smelled the honeysuckle scent of childhood.

  “My baby boy,” she whispered, stepping back and taking his face in her hands. Kissing his cheek, she smiled with tears in her eyes. “You aren't a baby any longer. Look how tall and handsome you are!”

  Simon's cheeks felt hot, and he shrugged.

  “Shall I leave you two to talk then?” Queen Arlyn dropped her hands and looked around Simon to her husband.

  “No, stay. I am sure you are eager to hear about Simon's adventures. We’ve already had a short chat.”

  “Really? I will ring for some refreshments. You both must be starved.”

  A few minutes later, a tray was brought to the library, and they had moved to the chairs around King's desk.

  Seated, with a plate of biscuits and tea, Simon told his mother his story. A half hour later with several questions asked and answered, Simon and his parents sat in reflective silence.

  “Delano spoke of his grandfather making a sword the evening the illumination glowed?” the king asked.

  “Yes,” Simon answered.

  “I remember that sword,” King Tritium pondered. “Adrian Delano made it on the eve of our engagement ball. Do you remember it, Arlyn?”

  Eyes squished in thought, Queen Arlyn slowly nodded. “Yes, I do. It was beautiful. It's hung up in the castle's armory.”

  “I’ll have to look it over,” King Tritium murmured. “There are a few things I will need to ponder. For now, we should retire to prepare for the ball, love.” The king stood and extended a hand to his wife.

  Queen Arlyn hugged her son once more, and his father put his hand on Simon’s shoulder.

  “I'm sorry about the loss of your friends, Simon, but I am glad you are alive. It was a blessing you heard whatever noise it was and followed it. It sounds as if the curse visited those men.” Sighing, King Tritium squeezed Simon's shoulder and exited behind his wife.