Home - The Broken Crown

Victor's Diabolical Plan

To poison the king? Who does this fool think he is, and who is putting these unusual ideas in his youthful head? Indeed, he was blind with ambition as other young men his age are, but to think of soiling his hands in such a way is completely unacceptable. Even if the brotherhood wants the king dead, they definitely don’t want any form of complications that can place the existence of the order in jeopardy.

“It is against the law of our brotherhood to kill,” the elder called Zane said, with authority, “you know that very well, Victor.”

“I know,” Victor acknowledged in a mocking tone, “but think of the possibilities. Fathers, you could control the king himself, you would have the power to enthrone or dethrone a king.” His ambition was reflected on his face, and his eyes were gleaming with ambition.

“Victor, you stand beside the king, you have been trusted to safeguard the king’s life,” the Elder called Kummel roared. “It seems your ambition has blinded you to the moral implications of your proposed actions. If the king dies, those whose duty it is to safeguard the king’s safety will be the first to be executed.”

Victor silently growled in mortified rage. Kummel had always been a difficult man to manipulate. The man simply could see through every strategy, notice any manipulations and expose him to his hypocrisy. He must be careful when dealing with this man. His words, as few as they seem, can shatter mountains and expose hidden dangers within moments. He must do something to solve the situation before the elders decide to build on Kummel’s accusation.

“Elders, allow me to explain,” he began desperately, “the brotherhood can become a powerful force to be reckoned with if we…”

“Be silent, Victor!” the elder called Eden spoke, flashing a symbol that ordered respect. Victor bowed and looked back with defiance. “Lay not your hands on the king, do only what we tell you. We are the holy order, the only ones who have the right to pass a divine judgment on the king. You will return here four weeks from now, so that we may deliberate on your usefulness in this brotherhood. You may leave.”

“But elders,” Victor protested, trying to salvage the situation.

“Leave,” Eden commanded roughly, daring Victor with his eyes to challenge his holy decision.

“As you wish,” Victor replied. It would not be wise to vex the elders. Especially now that he still needs them to help in the execution of his ambitious plan, so he walked out rudely and closed the door behind him. “Let it be known, Victor is headstrong,” he said to himself, and his ego took over his countenance.

Road Leading to the Palace

Lord Joel and his two sons, Julian and Norman, rode through the crowded street. Most of the people paid respect to the three nobles; it was a well-known fact that it was because of this noble family that the town of EL-VON had flourished. The people owed a large debt to this family, but most of all the people had a very deep respect for Julian, Joel’s first son, not because of his wisdom in issues that led to the solution of most problems in the town, but because of his humanity. He had introduced many new events, laws and practices with the help of his best friend, that was well accepted by the people.

“So Julian, how does it feel to know that the king has developed an interest in you?” Joel asked, in a conversational tone.

“Foolish,” Julian snapped, “I don’t enjoy wearing this courtroom attire.” Julian’s sharp eyes exposed his building frustration.

“You will dress as I deem you should, boy!” Joel scolded. Julian gave his father one of his piercing looks, with mutiny written in his face.

“Don’t you dare look at me like that, little man,” his father growled in suppressed rage, “Obey your father.” Julian pretended to look away, but gave a slight grin as he rode ahead. It’s good to know that his sharp eyes still had the desired effect on his old man. After all, how else was he supposed to get even with his father?

“Father, why is Julian afraid to see the king?” Norman asked, to his brother’s annoyance.

“I don’t know, my son,” Joel replied, with a mocking chuckle, “we have our laws, and he has his. It seems like he’s been with that friend of his again.”

“Father, I've told you before,” Julian defended, “Steffen is a good man, he just enjoys making people laugh.”

“…Thus, a bad influence,” Joel chuckled.

Julian decided to remain silent; he knew that his brother and father were deliberately trying to provoke him, just for the fun of it.

As they passed the market square, a woman screamed out in agony. Julian, being eager to know what was going on, jumped off his horse and ran towards the source. The moment he reached his destination, to his surprise, he found a boy lying on the ground unconscious, while the woman (his mother) cuddled the unconscious boy, looking expectantly at all the people, pleading with her eyes for help. Julian forced his way through the crowd of onlookers to reach the helpless mother. As soon as the woman laid her eyes on Julian, she instantly recognized him.

“My lord, the boy fell to the ground and fainted. Ido’horah (mercy),” she said in desperation, “please ibako (peaceful one) save my beloved son.”

Julian nodded in acceptance, barely understanding a thing that the woman had said; her accent made it difficult for him to grasp her words, yet he understood the plight of her heart.

“People don’t just fall and die without reason,” he said as he moved closer to the unconscious child. “Allow me to see the child.” Julian slightly pushed the mother’s hand aside and placed his hand on the boy’s head. Julian might not be a seasoned herbal doctor, but he had seen enough through his experience as a mercenary to know how to tend to most maladies.

“This boy is not dead, he is sick with a plague,” Julian said, as he drew his hands away from the sick child, “he can be cured. Take him to my home and ask the servants to summon our personal herbal healer.”

“But my lord,” the woman protested, “I am Horian.”

“…Now!” Julian commanded, giving her his most imposing gaze. So, she is one of the citizens of the felled country of Horia, which explains why most of the people in the market square were unwilling to assist her.

“Yes, my lord, Julian,” the woman replied in a panicked tone, then she picked up the sick child and hurried off towards Lord Joel’s mansion. Julian walked towards his horse and mounted it skilfully; the loyal beast had trotted in his wake knowing that its master had to attend to an urgent matter. He rejoined his father and brother moments later to explain what the commotion was all about.

“What was that, son?” Joel asked.

“Another child unfortunate to be touched by plague,” Julian replied, “I'm beginning to wonder if there is any hope for this kingdom.”

“The poor lad, I wonder why the accursed sickness preys on the innocent children,” Joel pointed. “O help those little ones.”

“The child and his mother are Horians,” Julian continued, “It seems like the racial prejudice against the tribe is still ongoing.”

“Yes,” Joel agreed, “Not many people are willing to forgive the crimes of the people of Horia. The memory still places a bitter aftertaste in my mouth, even though I wasn’t born during that age.”

“Father, you haven’t told me about the Horian war yet, and you promised me that you'd tell me the tale,” Norman grumbled.

Here is the clean, error-free plain text for the next part of your chapter, Mr Subfura. All the typos, stray symbols, and background formatting from Word have been completely cleared out:

The Tale of the Horian War

“We were at war with Horia once, the people were very stiff-necked,” Joel said. “Prideful and above all extremely religious.”

“Is that the reason they fear us now?” Norman inquired.

“No,” the lord replied. “They fear us because of the day of our glorious victory against Horia. We destroyed their social and political structure and even came close to committing genocide. Now they are minority denizens of this society, forced to endure a punishment that was brought upon them by their forefathers.”

“So we look down on them?” Julian observed.

“They are still human and our brothers, their belief system might have been twisted but every man deserves to be treated equally,” Joel replied.

“What about the rumour of their worshipping demons?” Norman inquired. “Is that report true or is it another lie?”

“In truth, the Horians are the ones who brought forth their own demise. About 200 years ago, there was a religion in Horia called Carusis. According to the Carusis belief, the very first man to walk on the surface of the earth was a Horian. It was from him that every generation of man was born. Then a time will come when the Horian Adam will be born again and a new improved race of man will be introduced,” Joel shook his head in dismay. “Then there will be a great war in which every other flawed race of man will be wiped out, then the world will be pure once more. The Horian Adam will bring forth a new world from his seed.”

“Sounds like a story written by a fool with a wild imagination,” Julian voiced. “Did they actually believe it?”

“Big lies, big rumours, it happens,” Joel replied. “Every country has its own culture, its own belief system, the purpose of its existence. The only time one questions the culture of another country is when that culture poses a direct threat to the existence of your race.”

“You mean they believed that their race was the only one that deserves to exist in this world?” Norman voiced.

“They believed that the very existence of any other race is a desecration of the Holy Scriptures,” Joel said. “They had names they used to call the men of other races then, they called us 'the rejected.' They spat whenever they spoke about us and other races, such was their deep hatred for any man who wasn’t a part of their race, those were troubled times.”

“Then what happened father?” Norman inquired eagerly.

“A new king was crowned over Horia, an ambitious young man, who believed that he was the one who would fulfil the prophecy of his people. Khan the conqueror, a bloody tyrant who believed that he could overcome every nation through pure military strength,” Joel said, frowning at the story. “The king who reigned over El-von at that time was diplomatic, he always believed in peaceful measures to solve conflicts among nations and tried six times to negotiate a peace treaty. Then Khan the conqueror attacked, he started his campaign with El-von, he destroyed all our temples and levelled everything that didn’t please him. Because of the warning, the king was able to evacuate the city before Khan was able to destroy the people.”

“Did he chase those that escaped?” Norman asked.

“Pride didn’t allow him,” Joel replied. “He simply decided that there was no need to finish off the refugees of El-von. Instead, he occupied the El-vonian capital and renamed it as New-Horia, then he waged war on all the neighbouring countries, hoping to expand his territory. The El-vonians were able to find sanctuary with the dwarfs of the Trigon mountains, they stayed there for more than forty years developing a good relationship with the dwarfs; it also gave the El-vonians time to plot their revenge.

Then the El-vonian king was toppled from his throne by his own son, who believed his father was too weak to save the El-vonian Empire. The boy by the name Prince Alexander placed his peace-loving father under house arrest and then initiated a policy that would deal such a blow that the Horians will find it difficult to recover any time soon.”

“What did he do father?” Norman was fully occupied by the story.

“He initiated a policy of forceful expansion, all young men starting from the age of 25 all the way up to 50, he forced into marriage,” Joel said, “then with the help of the dwarfs he had every man spend the very first years of his life working in the forges of the mountains strengthening their muscles and their bones.”

“He was building an army,” Norman observed.

“Not just an army, he was building an unbeatable army,” Joel added with a smile. “Men with a stern countenance, proud horses that do not fear the chaos of battle and powerful weapons designed to put fear in the hearts of all the enemies of El-von.”

“Did he succeed father?” Norman asked.

“Yes and No, twenty years into the campaign the Prince realised that wars are not based solely on military strength. He needed a strategy, one that would end the Horians without causing him too many casualties, thus he asked the only person that he believed was wiser than him, his father.

Thus, father and son were reunited. Alexander was convinced by his father to read books on the various strategies of warfare, to figure out exactly why the Horians act the way they do. With such knowledge, the prince formulated a plan that would end the Horian menace forever.”

“What did he do father?” Norman cried with eagerness to listen to the end of the story.

“He developed a strategy to vanquish the Horian Empire, once and for all; first he numbered his men to be about 100,000 strong. Then he sent a peace treaty to all the neighbouring kingdoms surrounding New-Horia, begging their assistance in the upcoming war,” Joel smiled, “all the surrounding nations happily agreed, they had missed their former neighbour and sorely desired the days of old, when peace bound them together.”

“And then what happened?” Norman inquired, full of excitement.

“He convinced the kings to sacrifice a thousand men each, the same way a lamb is sent to a slaughterhouse, advising them to use the worst criminals as scapegoats. All eight kings agreed to the suggestion and provided the men. The kings ensured that the criminals stood at the front lines and though they didn’t possess the patriotic spirit, the promise of freedom and magical seals kept them in their best behaviour.”

alienation“Did the kings win the war?” Norman egged.

“No my son, the idea was not to boost the enemy’s strength; it was to boost the enemy’s ego. You see all the other eight kingdoms had been at war with Horia since the tragic defeat of El-von. The military strength of the eight kings had been weakened. The idea was to make the king of Horia believe that they had finally crushed their enemies, and in the process, they would let their guard down for a moment, and thus, be opened to attack.”

“Father, you forgot to tell him that the battle took place on the eve of a famous Horian festival,” Julian added.

“Yes, you're right. The festival of rebirth, pilgrims from all over the continent would come to worship at the El-vonian capital, which was called New-Horia at the time. The king at that period had become an idol, they worshipped him the same way the ants worship their queen. In light of their recent victory and with the festival upon them the Horians carelessly opened their borders for attack without knowing it.”

“How?” Norman inquired.

“Most of the pilgrims were actually El-vonians disguised as worshippers. Each one armed with weapons and orders. That night, the Horians celebrated carelessly, every man got drunk and by midnight, King Alexander and his entire host arrived. The spies within opened the gate and thus admitted them into the city. They gained access to the palace via the secret entryway. In less than two hours, Horia was nothing but a pool of blood. Every male’s throat was slit open, every religious book was burnt and the confidence of Horia simply vanished from the map.”

“That’s not how to fight a war,” Norman argued.

“There are many sides to warfare, my son,” Joel defended, “the king simply used a method that best suited him, one in which he wins, without losing too much of his precious men. The proud Horian king slept soundly in his palace, oblivious to the destruction of his so-called divine empire.”

“And then what happened?” Norman voiced in excitement.

“He woke up, and found his bed surrounded by the race he once called an abomination.”

“They could have just killed him in his sleep,” Julian suggested.

“Alexander was a man of war and he was also a child filled with pure desire for vengeance. Killing a king in his sleep was never part of his agenda; first, he challenged Khan the conqueror in a one-on-one trial by combat. Khan had no choice; he was forced to accept the challenge. The difference in their skills was obvious. Alexander had spent his entire life preparing for this fight, and the Khan of Horia, despite being old, had spent his last few years whoring and drinking. Alexander defeated the khan of Horia but, spared his life. The El-vonian prince had all the Horian males killed, and the sons of Khan the conqueror, he killed before their father. Then he locked up the khan in the dungeon and chased away the mothers and daughters of Horia from the El-vonian province. He did not leave a single male alive to that race.”

“Thus, the capital was recaptured, then Alexander turned his rage towards the Horian religion. He burnt down every temple and killed every priest of the accursed belief,” Julian added, “the only way to judge a man is to understand what he believes in, crush that belief and you crush the man.”

“So that’s why Horia does not exist today,” Norman observed.

“One of the reasons,” Joel pointed out, “most of the widows returned to the land they once occupied, but the neighbouring kings had absorbed the territory, so the women scattered, some worked in brothels and others as labourers and their children were born from the blood of the very people they sought to destroy. Safe to say Horia is no longer a threat.”

“They might be,” Julian interrupted, “Some of the women who were spared were pregnant.”

“So they can give birth to male children?” Norman said.

“How many hundreds of years have passed and nothing. No, the Horian threat is over and the religion that once made them a threat has been destroyed,” Joel countered.

“If you say so, father,” Julian said reluctantly.

The Poisoned Wine Glass

The king sat upon his royal throne with gladness, smiling at his daughter. Princess Amina, who sat next to the king in the richness of her beauty, was robed in pink silk and a diamond tiara on her head. The princess had her virtuous body covered in yellow embroidered material, which goes well with the pink silk, well-arranged dark hair, red lips, green eyes and a beautiful smile. The king was dressed in royal robes consisting of a white shirt, black trousers, his royal golden crown, and a long red cape. He also had on his right hand a golden sceptre and a diamond ring, the symbol of his reign. Never had father and daughter looked so grand, most of the male servants would have had eyes for the princess but for her shrewish nature, which happens to be the only “but” in her beauty. Fortunately, the man her father was marrying her off to is up to the task.

The royal announcer, who happens to be wearing the bright colours of the royal guards, walks into the throne room with the gong, and bangs the gong three times. “Lord Joel, and his sons Julian the hunter, and Norman the archer, approach the presence of his highness, King Felton of El-von.” Then, the announcer bows gracefully before the king, and leaves.

Lord Joel walks in with his two sons. Princess Amina observed as Julian walked in, his heavily built body, well dressed, and his ever-focused eyes looking sharply towards the king. It is no rumour why the people of El-von loved Julian more than they loved his father, not only because of his handsomeness, but also because of his sound wisdom, which seems to overshadow that of his father.

As Joel walked in with his two sons, Princess Amina found it difficult to take her eyes off Julian, the man her father favours; it had been a long time since she had last laid eyes on him. As the years go by, Julian has lost his taste for the splendour the palace had to offer; instead, he desires the violence of the wild; to hunt with the hunters of the forest and to train in the ways of the sword with her father’s best knights, to go out on rescue missions with the mercenaries. Now look at him, all grown, and stern with the eyes of a cat, ready to pounce. Why men are prone to violent behaviour she will never understand.

As Julian walked in, the king nodded with approval. He was definitely a fine young man; he had a heavily built body and was well dressed with ever-focused eyes. Looking sharply towards the king, Julian wondered why he’d been summoned to such a noble gathering. The king and the princess arose to greet their guests. Joel was the first to step forward and kiss the ring of the king, then the ring of the princess. Then it was Julian's turn. He kissed the king's ring but hesitated when the ring of the princess was presented. Joel was the first to realise this, and he quickly spanked his son gently on the back. The king smiled and looked upon Julian approvingly.

“Father,” Julian whispered in protest, “She is just a proud, spoiled child in desperate need of discipline. Look as she rallies herself with the best of perfumes and clothes, I wonder what kind of queen she will be?”

“Be quiet my son,” the Noble growled, “That is the princess of El-von you are talking about, brat or not you owe your allegiance to her.”

“No, I owe my allegiance to EL-VON,” Julian retorted with a sly grin.

“Foolish boy,” Joel cursed beneath his tone. “You will not be the death of me.”

The company of five walked towards the royal banquet table, which was loaded with a rich array of delicacies, ranging from roasted pork to vegetarian dishes. Julian couldn’t help but wonder what was on the king's mind as they reached the table. Norman stood transfixed with a gluttonous nature written on his face, while Julian walked over to a quiet corner, feeling awkwardly uncomfortable. The moment they were all seated, the king and Lord Joel started a discussion on matters about the kingdom, while Norman feasted on anything he could find. Julian stood afar off, leaning on one of the pillars, watching his father and the king chat; often he wondered what the topic of their discussion was, but chose not to get involved; soon it would be his duty to share in the king's secrets.

“Tell me, Julian, do you love your father?” the princess asked. “I can tell that he loves you; he’s always talking about you.” She was trying to start up a conversation with him.

“Why ask such a foolish question?” Julian replied, realising that the princess was trying to pry out information from him just like the old days when they were young, looking straight into Amina’s eyes. Her beauty might have captivated Julian, but he was well aware of her nature—Amina, the princess with a short temper.

“Just curious,” Amina replied with a sarcastic smile. This girl was up to something, Julian thought, but what can a princess who owns everything possibly want? The crown? Definitely not. She might be many things, but she cannot be corrupted by vain ambition.

“He’s my father,” Julian heard himself reply.

“He’s my father too,” Amina countered.

“So I noticed,” he snorted.

“He brings a lot of tributes to my father and gifts for me,” the princess smiled, displaying the ruby ring on her right hand for Julian’s scrutiny. Julian ignored her lavish gesture and gave her a very cynical look. What is wrong with this girl? He wondered, does she only care for material things and nothing else?

“It seems like the only thing you are good at is receiving. When will the greedy princess learn the beauty of giving?” Julian growled. “If you desire a gift from me then forget it.” Then, to add insult to injury, Julian walked away from her with the hope of placing as much distance between them as possible.

Princess Amina observed as Julian walked away. No one had ever insulted her to her face before. The man seeking her hand in marriage spoke all too freely in anger, and then he walked away from the princess of the great kingdom of El-von.

“He is a good man,” Felton observed with a proud smile, “and far more confident than when I last laid eyes on him.”

“He's the best of men, your highness,” Lord Joel added with pride. “I believe he will make her very happy.” The king chuckled at those words; even now, he could see the disappointment in his daughter’s face. Julian must have offended her; the thought made Felton tremble with suppressed excitement. How he will enjoy the complicated relationship that will occur between the two lovebirds.

The royal wine was brought in a moment later. Victor himself had hand-picked the best vintage to serve both the king and his guests. The one thing that Victor failed to take into account was the ever-cautious eyes of Julian. Julian had seen the royal taster hover around the banquet table, testing every meal for any signs of poisoning. Now, on the other hand, the royal taster was nowhere to be found by his sharp eyes, at the same convenient time that the royal wine was about to be served. Someone must have sent the royal taster away on a fruitless venture with the sole intention of murdering the king or his guests, Julian mused.

“I demand an apology,” Amina growled as she walked up to the difficult man. Julian was so startled by the princess’s sudden outburst that he flinched; he almost drew his sword.

“Now you intend to slay me in front of my father?” the ignorant princess continued. Julian cursed beneath his breath; now was not the time for the princess to be throwing one of her tantrums. He took a moment to think of how to defuse the situation.

“My apologies,” he mumbled without any sign of remorse. Amina, being ignorant of the nature of human psychology, failed to see the hidden message behind the apology; she simply smiled with the exhilaration of triumph and started chatting like a wild parakeet.

“That is nice to hear,” Julian said at intervals, then dismissed Amina sharply. He had just seen the king extend his hand towards the wine glass. If his suspicion turns out to be true, then the king would soon be a dead man, along with the members of his family.

“Julian, come back here...!” Amina exclaimed in disgust. What did her father see in this man anyway?

Julian charged towards the king with as much dignity as he could muster. He was able to intercept the glass before it reached the king's lips, to his relief and to Victor’s frustration. “You are not the wine taster,” he said with an accusing tone.

“This is the royal wine,” Victor retorted. “It was taken from the royal vault, no man has access to it, and no taster must touch it.”

“I don’t remember such laws being written,” Julian replied. “The El-vonian law states that the meal of the king must be tasted before it is presented to the king. With the absence of the royal taster, I will do the honours of tasting it.”

The king and Lord Joel silently waited, observing how Julian handled the situation. The king nodded in approval at intervals, impressed by Julian’s actions. The king also made up his mind to have the royal taster publicly whipped for abandoning his post; after all, this entire squabble started because of his negligence.

“No, I,” Victor stuttered, as he tried to prevent Julian from testing the wine. To Victor's dismay, Julian held the wine glass firmly in his right hand and placed it out of the nobles' reach, so Victor found it difficult to spill the wine with the excuse of an accident.

“Now listen,” Julian continued, “you are still my father’s assistant, yet you are unschooled in the ways of the palace. Step aside while I conduct my inspection.”

“Do as he says, Victor,” the king commanded reluctantly. Victor stepped aside, allowing Julian access to the bottle of wine.

Julian grabbed the bottle and called a servant with two glasses, then he filled one of the glasses with royal brew. He ordered a small stick taken from a young Iguana palm. They summoned the royal herbal master, and he was able to provide the rather unusual object that the noble requested. Julian placed it into the glass of wine and waited for seven seconds. Then, he drew it out again and examined the result. The part of the stick that was dipped into the wine was once white, but had now become coated with black fibre. Julian’s eyes gained full focus as he looked at Victor sharply.

“It’s poisoned,” he said to the astonishment of all. To prove his point, he poured some of the offensive liquid on the table for all to see. The acid within burnt up the solid mahogany. “And you said no one touches the royal wine? Throw this wine away and get the king yet another bottle. This time ensure that the wine is properly tasted,” Julian barked the orders and observed as the servants stumbled upon each other as they hurried to carry out his orders.

All in the hall had paid attention to Julian the moment he spoke about poison, and the king, being grateful for Julian’s service, embraced Julian like a son.

He Does Not Desire Me

The rest of the banquet was quite boring for Julian’s taste, apart from the constant selfish chattering of the princess, which he tried to ignore throughout the evening. The king and his father seemed to be too occupied with royal issues to even give the true meaning of the banquet its purpose; it was obvious that the two had something planned. Julian had spent most of the evening spying on the king, searching for signs, and found nothing. In the end, he had to give up; the two old men were schooled in the act of distracting the younger, more impatient breed of men. It would have helped if he had realised that they were congratulating themselves for a job well done in bringing the boy and his brother to the palace. Norman spent the rest of the evening oblivious to the events around him, stuffing his face with the royal dishes presented by the palace cook.

They finally left the palace after a few hours. The king, being in good humour, walked towards his daughter’s chambers. He wanted to have a word with his daughter, to ask her why she left the banquet so early. On reaching her room, he heard the muffling sounds of her crying beyond the doors. This was surprising to him; he had not seen his daughter cry in a long time. The king gently knocked on Amina’s door, hoping that she would let him in to comfort her.

“Tell me, Amina, what is wrong?” Felton said. “Let your father dry your eyes; this is the voice of your father.”

“He doesn’t like me,” Amina wailed. “He called me greedy. Father, am I greedy?” she said as she opened the door to let her father into the room.

“No,” the king replied, “there resides in you the heart of a true princess, selfless and brave. That is the girl I am proud of.” Once again, the king cursed himself. “I am so good at the game of politics, it is easy to make my enemies do battle against each other, but in raising a child, I believe I am a failure.”

“Father, he’s headstrong and stiff-necked,” Amina continued. “I know it, he does not desire me. This should not be, this should not be!”

“Just like his father,” Felton mused. “Remember, he just saved my life, no one could have known that the wine was poisoned. Tell me Amina, don’t you desire him?”

“I do father,” Amina responded with a slight blush, “but he is the one who has no desire for me.”

“You are my daughter and the princess of El-von, whatever it is you want you will obtain,” the king pointed out. “Or have you been so discouraged that you would give up?”

“No,” Amina declared. “Father, if it will cost me my life I will win his heart.”

“That’s my girl,” the king encouraged, “it would do me great honour to see Julian as my son-in-law.” Then, the king placed his finger beneath Amina’s chin. “Smile, a princess must never appear weak in the eyes of her subjects, this is the voice of the king.”

The Gossiper

The evening period, as the three rode home after a whole day with the king. Lord Joel seems surprisingly happy, considering the fact that Julian had made a scene during the banquet, and Norman had a shade of green on his face. Julian chuckled inwardly; his little brother must have stuffed in far more than his small stomach could carry. It would be a miracle if he were able to hold all that food inside by the time they reached home.

“Tell me, Julian,” Lord Joel said suddenly, “What did you tell the princess when she stood by your side?” Julian smiled; finally, he was beginning to see through the schemes of the king and his father. It seems like they wanted him to have a chat with the princess, but why; they might want him to instruct her against her upcoming ascension as queen.

“I told her how greedy she was, Father,” Julian replied, with a hint of mockery in his voice. “The only thing she cares about are the gifts, tithes and tributes that come into the royal treasury.”

“That was how she was brought up, Julian...” Joel defended. Then Norman groaned in discomfort. “It seems like your brother overdid it at the palace.”

“With a silver spoon in her mouth,” Julian continued, “She is just a spoiled child. If only she had waited, I would tell worse things.”

“You know, the king would hang you for those abominable words,” Joel scolded. “The field mouse that plays on the lion’s mane while it sleeps would become food when the lion wakes.”

“For some reason, the king's life, which I saved today, would give me a chance to live, though I sense my presence in the palace was all the plan of the king,” Julian observed with a mischievous grain.

“For a young man, Julian, you have so much potent wisdom,” Joel admitted. “One has to be on guard when dealing with you.”

“I inherited my intelligence from you, father,” Julian admitted, “and it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Tell me, Father, when next do we see the king?” Norman groaned. “I'm not sure that my stomach will survive the next ordeal.” Julian and Joel chuckled at those words.

“When next he summons us, my son,” Joel replied. “And I am very sure that today’s experience will keep you from the gates of gluttony at the next banquet.”

“Father, three nights from now is the free moon night, you must be present,” Julian said, changing the topic of the discussion.

“Sorry, Julian, the king...” Joel began to say.

“...Father, this is our family tradition. One in which our family started some 150 years ago, and you, the head of our family, must be present,” Norman protested.

“I know,” Joel defended. “These are times of hard decisions, my son, priorities, and sometimes a man must choose a course of action that will lead to painful sacrifices. One day you will have to make such decisions and...”

“Be sure that I will make the right decision, father,” Julian growled to Joel’s dismay; he could hear the disappointment in Julian’s voice.

“Father, please come to the night festival,” Norman persisted, “it will not be the same without you, it has not been the same in your absence.”

“I will try, but I make no promises.”

Julian was close to forcing his father to make a promise when he noticed someone looking at them from a far distance. He focused his eyes to know who it was, then a furious look came over his face, a look that made his eyes sharper and his mood darker.

“Eliza! Save us from that cursed gossip,” he grumbled.

“Calm down my son,” Joel voiced beneath his breath. “Our family has put up with her and her mother since the time of my great-grandfather, we can still endure a little more. The greatest ability of the Heron is patience; let the fish come to you.”

“All that no-good female does is talk about our family, exposing all our secrets and spreading lies,” Norman groaned, and this time it was not because of the stomach ache.

“Peace, my sons,” Joel pleaded. He knew that the act of the youthful female was born from the desire to become a part of the family, but they chose a twisted method to win their favour.

“One day father, my blade shall bite its way into her neck,” Julian declared with suppressed rage.

“Julian,” Joel said in a firmer tone, “not all problems are solved by bloodshed.”

“Then tell me, why are they spreading false rumours about our family?” Julian demanded.

“I will tell you much later, Julian, I promise,” Joel said in a tone that says, ‘I have something to hide.’

“Too much too soon, but not soon enough, when will time tell its way?” Julian said philosophically, using his own father’s words against him.

“When time has time to tell the way, for time knows the time for speech, and the time for silence. Wait for time patiently, and time will lead you the right way,” Joel concluded in a sarcastic tone.

Julian smiled at his father; the old man definitely knew how to escape the very traps that he designed with his own hands. He should not have engaged his father in his own game; his loss was evident from the very beginning.

The Ruined Plan

“Damn you, Joel’s son, damn you, Julian. Why don’t you just mind your own business?” Victor growled. He looked down towards the ground in anger and uttered curses against Julian for ruining his plan in attempting to kill the king. He was so close; the cup was just a few inches from the king’s lips. Then Julian had to make a show of his position. One of these days, he was going to kill the meddling fool, but for now, he needed to cover his tracks. The thought that a plant ruined his plan suddenly flashed before his eyes, then he cursed Julian again out of pure hatred.

To cover his actions, Victor would be forced to execute the royal taster before the palace guards would be able to question him, and then he would need to kill the herbal mage who concocted the poison for him. Felton is no fool; he will ensure that the palace wizard uses the mystic arts to trace the poison to its source, and then the foolish mage would give up his name in order to save his own skin. These precautions wouldn’t have been necessary if the king were dead, Victor thought with a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Curse you Joel’s son, curse his meddling and curse his ways. I, Victor, have served the king for 15 years. What is my reward? Nothing. He refuses to give me the position of the most noble of men; his reward to me is just second best. How shall I be king in the eyes of the king? I will kill you your highness, and then I will force Amina to be my queen,” Victor growled in frustration. “If you wish to kill a crab, first destroy the shell, then destroy the crab that hides within the shell.”

⏪Chapter 2

Chapter 4⏩