Loyalty

Lord Caito growled quietly as another man, in a light jerkin and well worn clothes seated himself across from the Knight in the long dining hall that fed Knights, soldiers, and squires alike. “Gai! I though I awoke to your return this morning.”



“Charl, I hope it disrupted your beauty sleep greatly.”



“No, no, not at all. How much beauty sleep can I get? I’m a sparkling specimen of manhood born into perfection.”



“If only God had seen fit to appoint you with such a brain as well.”



“Ah! So you acknowledge it!”



“I acknowledge that you acknowledge it.”



“Well, I see you\'re just as chipper as always.”



“Trying to keep up my image.”



Despite his annoyed words, Gai was smiling ever so slightly. Satisfied, his fellow Knight leaned back and continued with the simple breakfast.



Being just a bit of oatmeal he finished quickly and returned to find Gai watching him expectantly. On cue, Charl proposed to him that they run exercises together. That was something that Gai missed from the Capitol, being able to duel off with other Knights in a friendly setting with no ulterior motives. When they arrived the fields were mostly empty as many of the trainees were still eating or cleaning and checking their equipment. Gladly taking the first empty ring Gai drew his simple broadsword from its sheath and faced his opponent.



The first clash of steel against steel sent shockwaves up his arm and a pleasing ache in his arm. They withdrew before charging at each other again. Both masters at their art and having years of training under the same king they were a perfect match. It was, however, Gai that ultimately took the match. Charl surrendered when he was pinned to the ground by one sword with another dagger dangerously placed against his side just at the point where the jerkin provided an opening.



Laughing slightly they separated and bowed to each other in the form of good sportsmanship. Their duel had attracted several of the emerging knights and trainees and soon the combatants became aware of an appreciative applause while some trainers were shouting at their charges about the tactics just employed by the knights.



Gai was in high spirits but for a group of four men in dark armor bearing a seal that did not belong to the King. They stood close together though none of them spoke and one glanced back towards the large stone building.



Following his gaze Gai saw nothing but a large window partially obscured by a heavy curtain. With a shrug, he left the ring and joined in a few more training exercises as well as assisting the stressed trainers in their attempt to make something of the hopeful young nobles that sought knighthood.





The Prince stood at the tall library window gazing down to the training fields. His personal knights were preparing a venture for him. All of his small personal guard would be dispersed across the country with no predetermined return date.



A book rested open at the table next to him and he carefully flipped the pages as the fight continued below him. Finally a well-worn page caught his fingers and he glanced down at the words that haunted his subconscious. The diary was one he had read constantly since taking his place as regent. Now that damning page was too dangerous. He tore it from the book and hid them neatly in the pocket of his jacket.



Out in the field the fight had come to a close and his first Knight looked up as though he knew the Prince would watch. With a set jaw he retreated from the window and continued deeper into the castle.



The young maid who helped him in dressing and kept his room clean and his necessities cared for appeared as he clicked the door to his private room shut. Handing her his light robe she retrieved a heavy black coat and white cotton gloves, both of which he put on quickly. Then came a large band of black cloth with four strings holding each corner. This he tied around his nose and mouth, cinching the strings behind his head.



Taking a quiet side hallway he made his way carefully to the large gold inlaid doors that marked the royal suit of his father. Inside was dark, the windows covered by heavy curtains and a simple lamp glowing fruitlessly in the corner. The noise of the door shutting behind himself alerted his presence to the man hunched near the light. He wore a heavy robe and the long black hair was knotted and tangled. Heavy smells of incense and burning oils thickened the air stinging the Prince’s exposed eyes. He spoke softly through the protective cotton over his mouth, “King, we have dispatched the riders as you asked. Your plans should be carried out shortly. Please rest assured. If you feel the need for assistance a servant is waiting at all hours of day and night, simply gesture and they will help you or retrieve myself.”



“Thank you,” the voice was rumbling and hollow, garbled with the constant breathing of the thick, stale air, “My General, you have been good to me in these time where I cannot trust even my family. I have faith that you will fulfill my desires without question. You have had faith in me while other’s thought me crazy. Your loyalty will be rewarded greatly.”



The Prince bowed low, not trusting the painful lock in his throat. Exiting the rooms he carefully locked the doors, silently so his actions would not be noticed inside, and tucked the key into his coat pocket before stripping off his mask and taking a deep breath of clean air. Hurrying back to his room he executed another quick clothes change, his current ones carrying the sick room smell and needed to be cleaned thoroughly.



Finally outfitted in a costume of his stature he exited through the main entrance of his suites and made his way to the large council room just as the church tower chimed another hour into the morning. His palace guards flanked him on either side, taking up their positions again outside the council room.



At his entrance the gathered nobility turned and executed one smooth bow. In response the Prince delicately inclined his head before proceeding to sit at the head of the large rectangular table, designed for each speaker to be heard while curious spectators could sit in the gallery above the commotion.



“Ladies and Gentlemen, I realize we have a series of issues piled for today’s consideration but first I would like to inform you of some information that has come into full light recently and discuss some action.” His voice was perhaps a touch lighter than normal, but nonetheless powerful as it carried across the floor, “The Lord Caito, who was trained under my father and has served a number of loyal years, arrived with some disturbing conclusions to rumors I have feared for a time. Twice before in history, as can be found in the Criminal Speciality Reports by Sir Mayanthou and in the Cases of Interest in the Turmoil Years by Agir Farouth, such cases have taken place where a man, believing in the ghost stories of children, has stolen seven maidens and attempted to use their blood and hair and bone to form an entity of perfection that would connect the select male to powers unknown to this world.”



At this point several ladies had been forced to take their stools, designed to accommodate the stiff dressed, while their companions fanned them fervently. The Prince did not pause or offer leave to such delicate creatures but continues as though he did not notice, “In both occurrences of this the women were not returned and while the criminal was ultimately apprehended the case was never able to be fully closed due to loose strings. However, I am determined that this will not be the solution to this current barbaric situation.”



An older man with a stiff, slightly out-of-style suit, rose to be acknowledged. The Prince gave a slight nod.



“I suggest that we invoke the entirety of the military force and sweep the area being attacked in order to recover the girls and smoke out the beast himself.”



“Nay, with that kind of force he will surely murder them prematurely and our efforts will be in vain.” The person that spoke was a relatively young lord to the council, trained in Knighthood and a scholar of the highest order. To counter him was the General of the public army.



“I agree that such force will prove futile, but perhaps if we slowly leaked soldiers into the area and had them search out information and act as quickly as possible.”



“That will be anarchy! Orders cannot be relayed quickly enough and the soldier, told to act a quickly as possible, may prove too rash and cause more trouble than we are in.”



“Perhaps we should simply compensate the poor lords for their fate and go about finding this man. It simplifies the equation by seven.”



“Indeed, but that would instigate poor sentiments and if you are not aware our sons are having a hard enough time finding brides. Soon we will be marrying our first sons to foreign lords and who knows what beasts those men are? What would become of all our progress!?”



“You are ancient, Knight. Our relations with several other countries are good and the passage to foreign lands is a more luxurious adventure than ever. We are even hosting tours of our own.”



“Still, the more internalized we keep this problem the better. To revel our weakness to one man would be an invitation to a hostile land of the south for war. After so many years of peace, we should seek to keep it as long as possible.”



The banter between Lords and Ladies alike rang across the table. The Prince made no further comment and let his council voice all their concerns and suggestions. His recorders were stationed around the room and assigned to certain persons in order to acquire as much information about what was said as possible for future consideration.



Finally the commotion died down and the Prince rose from his seating, quieting the last of the debaters, “I have detained the Lord Caito in the city for now to be at our disposal, he will be a key part to solving this issue, we may now continue onto other matters and next week we shall reconvene on this topic with a solid opinion from the crown.”



The council seemed satisfied with that and an older gentleman, advisor to the king, read out the first concern to be addressed. As the Prince had hoped the rest of the meeting went without much argument, each issue shadowed by the much greater concern in the country and petty matters were settled rapidly.



When the meeting was over it was time for lunch the Prince invited the council and guests to reconvene in the adjacent sitting rooms to feast on the array of food that had been prepared. He did this every week since taking control of the station his father had abandoned.



The two rooms, one masculine in design, the other feminine, were packed as usual with people sectioned off in small groups discussion the meeting and gossip. The Prince ran a hand through his honey brown hair tiredly before entering the room containing most of the women and a few gentlemen with a smile gracing his features. Carrying a steaming cup of tea he seated himself in the proffered seat in a large group of girls with two gentlemen he recognized as third sons of neighboring counties. A dainty girl placed a tall platter of finger sandwiches on the table next to the prince.



“Prince Vos, how clever of you to conduct the council. Your judgment and trustworthy advice always eases the thorniest of conversations.”



“Oh, but what was that at the beginning? I am afraid now to leave the castle. I certainly do not want to be caught up by some barbarian!”



“My dear,” the Prince smiled at the young courtier, “I have no reason to suspect further maids will fall victim to such actions. At least not under this particular criminal. However, should you venture out, please take care to have a guard assist you.”



The gentlemen nodded silently and one assured her that he would be glad to accompany her should she desire to venture to the shops.



Some small conversation continued before the Prince dismissed himself and ventured to the other sitting room, ignoring the hushed words of “Prince” and “elegant” and “soft.” He had enough gossip from his friends to endure it from the rest of the court. The masculine room was done in shades of green and white. He was quickly invited into a group of older gentlemen, some retired Generals and some war councilmen that had been out of work for decades. “So Prince, what do you suppose should be done about the kidnappings.”



“That is a topic I will be sure to address in due time, councilman.”



“Ah, a diplomatic answer indeed.”



“Diplomacy is often used to disguise weakness or indecision.”



The Prince turned to the speaker, a lower commander in the army who had an uncle in court, “Sir, I prefer to think I am acting cautiously and not revel too much before I can be certain of fact and a proper course of action with the cumulative support of my advisors.”



“I think it should be simple,” the man was older and crusty, hardly coherent in the bustling room, “Such fuss over kidnappings. Perhaps the girls ran off like tramps. Sold themselves. Who knows?”



The Prince bowed gracefully and excused himself running straight into a girl a year or two over his own. She was dressed in men’s clothes, complete with leather tunic and flaring brown gloves. “Ah, Arti. I though I spotted you in the gallery.”



“Aye, Prince Vos. You get yourself in too much trouble when I don’t bail you out so I cut my safari short and returned in due hast.”



“Did something scare you back to my side so suddenly?”



“No, just a feeling. And I trust my feelings, Vos. Women’s instinct, much better than you men’s logic.”



“Indeed, it has saved me from my logic a number of times in our youth.”



The two walked together and soon were out of the bustle completely wandering the empty halls on the outside of the castle watching the landscape and city stretch before them.



Having grown up together the two were close as siblings, when Arti’s mother had cast her out for wearing boy’s clothes even after coming of age, the Prince had given her a room in the castle and made no regulations on her dress. Eventually she was accepted back into the family, but had lately been spending most of her time out of the country. Neither had before had a serious love life, though Arti had revealed to the Prince her childhood nightmare of when a far older cousin had stayed with them which had led to her forever forsaking the frumpy, sexual, women’s clothes. When the Prince had his first courtesan, on his 17th birthday and then a more private prostitute sometime later, he revealed both to her and she had lamented with him his unwanted future with a woman. It was men the Prince found he preferred.



“What a pair we make,” Arti said, “Brennus, you and I will marry some day, for neither of us are accepted. This way we will always be close and never can be forced into a loveless marriage.”



“And I do love you, Arti. Perhaps, when things are not so tumultuous, we can pursue those childhood dreams of ours. Though I don’t want to compromise your own romantic future. You may one day find someone you truly care for.”



“Well, should we marry, it would be an open marriage anyway. And I would go through great things to save you, My Prince.”



“Please, enough with the title. Lord Caito came in last night and it was all ‘highness’ for him.”



“Oh! Your dear Dark Knight has returned? How does he fare?”



“He fare’s fine. No worse for wear that I can see.”



“And how does he think of you?”



“He still hates me. No wonder either. I have not allowed any to visit the King in over a year. He is not my knight. He is my father’s, will always be my father’s.”



“What about when you ascend the throne.”



“I don’t know. Typically the knights would pledge a new allegiance to the freshly coroneted king. But he is so strong-willed. He may choose to remain my father’s knight nonetheless or retire from service all together. I will not try to force his hand.”



Art did not speak for a time and eventually Brennus turned to her with wariness in his eyes.



“You don’t have to force his hand…”



“But…”



“But, you could give him the chance to have a fair choice.”



A boy, perhaps twelve, rushed down the hall, only stopping to kneel when he recognized his mistress’s companion, “M’lady. Please come with me. A knight has requested your company.”



Taking the escape, Arti left the Prince staring over the wall and considering his next move. The Knight Caito had pledged with his father at the age of eighteen when Brennus was but thirteen. After ten years of service to the King the King took ill and his son stepped up to the place of Regent. The newly risen Prince stopped all visits to his father, messages were relayed solely through himself and soon even the healers were turned away. The Knight had once tried to infiltrate the King’s chambers in order to see him, but he found the Prince, in full gear, standing guard outside the door. They had fought briefly, but unable to completely abandon his subservience to the royal family the Knight relinquished and prepared to leave the castle.





Lord Caito stood outside the King’s chambers. He did not attempt to go in, nor did he make any move to spy. He recalled his one and only incident of insubordination. The Prince had been a better swordsman than he would have reckoned and the determined set of his jaw and the glint in his eye promised the fight would not end until he was unable to hold his sword. That, as much as his own exhaustion from worry and anger and days on the field caused the Knight to acquiesce the fight. He did not, however, face the burning humiliation of trying to charge his own King’s quarters or crossing blades with the Prince only to withdraw. It seemed that the Prince had not mentioned their meeting to anyone and had never brought it up again with the seething Knight.



Now, standing at the spot of their one duel he wondered at the nature of the Prince he had never bothered to know. A soft voice behind him jerked his attention back to present and he turned sharply to face the lavishly dressed Prince, “Lord Caito. Do you come here for a purpose?”



“No, Highness. I was merely wandering the halls.”



“Hm. Could you not find yourself a suitable distraction in these stone walls?”



The Knight wondered briefly if the Prince was digging at something and his eyes narrowed with the suspicion but his voice was calm and even toned, “Highness. I am unused to this luxury. I suppose I do not know what to do with myself. I have been in active field duty for so long.”



“Indeed.” The Prince cast him a long sidelong glance before turning his attention to the grand doors before him, “I wonder, then, if you would be opposed to accompanying me tomorrow.”



“Highness, where would you be traveling?”



“I’m sorry, it will just be into the city, but I am afraid I cannot risk traveling farther than that and I would…I would very much enjoy your company.” A slight blush burned the Prince’s face but the Knight gave not indication that he recognized it.



“Very well then, Highness. If you require it of me, I will be ready in the morning to accompany you.”



The Prince turned and gave a short bow a brilliant smile decorating his features, “Thank you. Please dress in something casual. However you may bring your weapons should you see fit.”



The Knight stood rigid as shock raced through his body, both at the social gesture of subservience and the smile that accompanied it. Before he could return the bow or speak another word the Prince was gone, disappeared down some hidden hallway and the Knight was left with his thoughts and the eminent morning engagement.