Chapter 36 Identity
It’s all because of the magi. All of it. They — Wait. Who’d they call? Humility? I’m Humility! I’m next. Okay. Deep breath. Deep breath. Here goes. For God, the Kingdom, and our Holy Prince Harrison. — Prince Eater #34
Twenty Years Earlier, year 364 – Castle in Hilltown
Holding up his hand to keep Prince Harrison from speaking, King Tiernan added, “It’s a figgict good thing for you that you’re the Last Prince.”
Prince Harrison understood that his father’s sarcasm was acceptance of his fealty, so he rose to his feet and looked around the Courtyard. Magi were wrapping the body of the late Most Revered. Two of the Kings Guard were restraining Novitiate Ava O’Connor as two others conversed directly with Mentoring Priest, Nell. As Prince Harrison watched two of the Kings Guards hold Ava between them, her wrists tied with a small length of rope, Nell nodded in agreement to whatever was being said.
Prince Harrison bit his lower lip in anger, turned completely in a circle, and then faced his father, “What are they doing to Ava? And where is Gil?”
King Tiernan sighed and said softly, “The Late Most Revered added their names to the Writ of Execution she issued for Ciaran and your sister. It’s too late.”
“You can withdraw it,” Harrison objected.
Defeat marred the king’s aging face. “I am helpless to override anything the Most Revered orders.”
“Useless old man,” Prince Harrison snapped. “You’re the king. Act like it.” The prince clenched his fists at his side, and the Kings Guards promptly surrounded him with their halberds ready and their swords drawn.
“Leave Harrison alone,” the king demanded.
“Your Majesty, begging your pardon, but he’s insulting you and threatening your safety,” one of the Kings Guards said respectfully.
“The figg’t he is,” King Tiernan corrected. “He’s angry because the magi ordered that young lady to be punished in some unspeakable manner than executed.”
“There isn’t a Most Revered,” Prince Harrison objected. “You had her executed. Are you saying that you can kill the top mage in all of Midhe Nuae without repercussions, but you can’t overrule her commands? That you don’t outrank a dead body? All she was trying to do was help Princess Mackenzie. Who wouldn’t have been moved by what happened? Ciaran’s dead, bloody body trapping Mackenzie like that.”
“And besides that, you’ve been overly friendly with the novitiate,” King Tiernan added. He paused, gazed into his son’s eyes, and continued, “Harry’s right. Half of you go to her and bring her back here. Guarantee her safety. I don’t give a figg’t what the magi say, or what anyone else says. Anyone who tries to stop you is to be summarily executed, regardless of that person’s rank.” The king held the palm of his hand to his son and curled his fingers several times. “Her name?”
“Ava O’Connor,” Prince Harrison supplied.
“Bring Ava O’Connor to the royal residences in the castle and be certain she is comfortable until I can give her an audience. Find two or three lady’s maids to attend to her.”
The Kings Guards dropped their weapons, bowed deeply to the king, and then just as deeply to Prince Harrison, and then a detail raced off to rescue Ava.
“Harry, you need to go after your friend,” the king continued. “I ordered nothing beyond removing him from my presence. Unfortunately, Tatiana’s soldier did not have his captain’s permission to be with her or to leave Hilltown. Aiding him would be seen as a criminal action by the Kings Soldiers. My guess is that your friend will be flogged, and maybe much worse. Although it is against my orders, soldiers enjoy torturing prisoners when they know that the prisoners will never be able to complain afterward. Take four of the Kings Guards, and run. If they have hurt him in any way, arrest them.”
Prince Harrison spun to race in the direction King Tiernan indicated, but the king stopped him. “One more thing, Harrison. He isn’t simply your friend. His actual name is Gilbert Braeford Raedwald. He’s your cousin. My brother Marston’s son. My brother and I drew lots to determine which of us would go free and which of us would suffer the Ritual. My brother made his escape in a night soil wagon. Although he’s reticent about it, Gil Braeford is a Prince of the Realm. Anyone harming him harms the Crown. Be sure the Kings Soldiers understand that. Now, go. Two of you go with him.”
Harrison and the guards raced from the Courtyard, along the paved walkways, and banged into the Headquarters of the Kings Soldiers. The commander was sitting behind his desk, accepting a glass of wine from an officer with a sharp aquiline nose.
“Your Royal Highness,” the officer greeted, bowing slightly.
The Commander of the Kings Soldiers stood slowly, dipped his head rather than bowing, and asked, knowingly, “What can we do for you, Prince Harrison?”
“Gil Braeford,” Harrison said urgently. “Release him to me immediately.”
The commander and officer glanced at each other, and then the commander replied, “I’m afraid that isn’t possible. He abetted a soldier’s desertion, and as such, is being punished.”
“King Tiernan has ordered that he not be harmed. Belay that punishment,” Prince Harrison ordered.
“Sir,” the commander began condescendingly. “Of course, you would try to use your father’s name to intervene. I mean no disrespect. You’re young, and don’t understand the ways of the world yet. He has to be punished. Otherwise, everyone would be helping anyone who doesn’t want to follow orders.”
“His Majesty commands you to release my cousin, Gil Braeford, to me immediately,” Prince Harrison bellowed.
“Your cousin?” The commander questioned, a smirk teasing his lips.
“My cousin. A Prince of the Realm.” Harrison repeated, signaling for the Kings Guards to draw their weapons. “Son of my father’s brother.”
“Your uncle ran from the Ritual,” The commander argued. “Surely he was executed.”
“The first thing my father did as king was to nullify the Writ of Execution and extend the Crown’s Eternal Forgiveness,” Harrison said. “My Uncle is alive and well, and you are about to torture a Prince of the Realm.”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
The officer’s glass of wine slipped from his hand and shattered.
“Commander, sir,” one of the Kings Guard offered. He gestured to the three other guards, carefully omitting Prince Harrison so it would seem as if the prince had known all along. “King Tiernan revealed it to us today when he learned of the situation here and sent us to offer support to His Royal Highness. I am sure that if either of you had known of it, none of this would be happening.”
The commander glanced at one of the interior doors self-consciously. Instantly, Harrison and the Kings Guards slammed through the door and barreled down the hall.
The Officer and the Commander of the Soldiers raced after them, shouting at the top of their lungs every few meters, “Stop the punishment. There’s been a mistake. Stop the punishment.”
They traveled down worn stone steps to a set of heavy doors with two armed sentries on either side of it. Seeing the prince, officers, and guards racing toward them, the sentries pulled the heavy doors open and bowed their heads as the prince and his retinue ran by.
To Prince Harrison’s dismay, the Kings Guards pressed ahead of him and held him back from entering the room. When Harrison tried to push the Kings Guards aside, the Officer and the Commander helped restrain him.
“This isn’t a place for you, Your Royal Highness,” the officer said as he forced Harrison’s sword from his grip. “There’s no need for you to see this. Let us handle it from here.”
Over their shoulders, Harrison could see inside the room. Gil Braeford was tied face down, naked, and spreadeagled on a wide table. A soldier with his pants pulled down straddled the prisoner. The look of satisfaction spread across his face was shared on the faces of all the other soldiers, and the soldier mocked loudly, “By the look of your back, Traitor, you’ve run up against the law before this. Who’d you piss off that time?”
When the disturbance at the door interrupted his taunting, the soldier leaped from the table and promptly pulled up his pants. Prince Harrison struggled to get past the Kings Guards and opened his mouth to shout, but before any words could come out, the sound of a whip cracked in the air. Two soldiers flanking Gil took turns lashing the prisoner so that only brief seconds passed between lashes.
The commander bellowed, “Hold. Stand down.”
Whether the executioners could not hear or chose not to, the whips continued to strike. Livid, Prince Harrison planted a powerful fist on the commander’s jaw, sending the man unconscious to the floor. Before he could swing a second time to take down the officer, the two guards released their hold on Prince Harrison and heaved themselves at the officer, taking him to the floor. Freed, Harrison roared into the room, dodging, and ducking around the soldiers who tried to prevent his interference. Realizing belatedly that he had no weapon, Harrison threw himself across the table. The first two lashes cut deeply into Prince Harrison’s face and then bit across his neck and shoulders. The prince took half a dozen rounds of flagellation before the Kings Guards made it into the room and dispatched the executioners.
The soldiers in the room collectively realized for the first time that they had taken part in injuring the Last Prince. Aware of the harsh punishment the king would mete out, they backed away hoping to escape while the Kings Guards helped Prince Harrison to his feet and then freed Gil Braeford.
Harrison gasped, rolled his shoulders gingerly, and then as one of his hands went to the deep cut on his face, announced regally, “All of you are under arrest for attacking and abusing a Prince of the Realm, Gil Braeford Raedwald. In addition, the two wielding the whips are under arrest for striking Princes of the Realm.”
“They’re dead, Your Royal Highness,” one of the Kings Guards testified.
“You, soldiers at the door, come here immediately,” Prince Harrison demanded.
The two sentries edged into the room and bowed to the prince. He looked them over slowly, allowing the blood to run unchecked from his cheeks and nose until their fear was palpable in the air, and then he said, “Collect the rest of the regiment and bring them to this room as quickly as their feet will move. Go.”
One of the Kings Guards sorted through the stack of Gil’s ripped clothing that had been tossed into one corner of the room. Although the shirt and other clothing were too damaged to be worn, the guard managed to salvage Gil’s trousers.
“Don’t hurt him further,” Harrison said kindly as the guard assisted Gil to dress. “Let’s carry him to my own apartments.”
“I can walk, I think,” Gil said bravely, but collapsed when he tried.
“Get the royal family’s personal healer, right away,” Harrison ordered.
The first group of soldiers who responded to Prince Harrison’s summons, helped one of the Kings Guards lift Gil so they could transport him face down on their clasped arms. As they carried the youth past Prince Harrison, the prince saw the reason for the soldier’s earlier derision: underneath the fresh, bloody whip marks on Gil’s back was a carpet of scars from an earlier flogging. Gil had been nowhere but his home and here, so Prince Harrison wondered who had punished him.
Once they left the room, the remaining Kings Guards asked, tentatively, “Your Royal Highness, shouldn’t you also see a healer for your face?”
“In good time,” Prince Harrison assured the guard. He strode purposefully to the door of the torture chamber, and shouted loudly, “Hang on, Gil. I’ll be right behind you, and I’ll see that you are taken care of. I just need to retrieve the key to these doors. These soldiers are not going to see sunslight anytime soon.”
The soldiers gathered at Harrison’s summons stood by helplessly as he locked their fellow soldiers inside the room where the torture had taken place. Prince Harrison cautioned them with an ominous voice, “They’re to stay right here until His Majesty sentences them.”
The next morning as the rays from First Sun scattered across the horizon, Prince Harrison checked on Gil’s healing and then joined the king, all the magi, and residents of Hilltown at the Tara Citadel for the Investiture elevating Mentoring Priest Nell to Nell Most Revered.
“Walk beside me, Harry,” the king said to his son as they headed toward the castle after the ceremony. They had strolled only a few meters when King Tiernan paled, clutched at his chest, and collapsed. Healers struggled to repair Tiernan’s heart, but he died that same evening with Prince Harrison beside him, holding his hand.
Proclamations of condolences poured in from around Midhe Nuae, as, holding to tradition, the funeral was held the following morning.
The day after that was Prince Harrison’s Ritual. Like every Chosen before him, Harrison was sick from the ordeal afterward so governing the country fell to Nell Most Revered. The moment he recovered, however, Holy King Harrison sent the Kings Guards to retrieve the prisoners locked in the torture chamber so they could be sentenced. The guards quickly returned with the report that no one in the room was still alive.
“I didn’t say to not give them food and water,” Holy King Harrison objected when he heard the report. “Only detained. They would have been uncomfortable by this time, but not dead. Anyone of authority could have come to me to get the key. I wanted them punished, but I also understand that, although illegal, their actions were in keeping with what they were expected to do. I would have ordered the execution of the commander and that officer, but not other soldiers.”
“They did not starve to death, Your Majesty. Someone broke the lock. The doors were wide open,” the Kings Guards clarified.
Determined to investigate for himself, but unaccustomed to walking with so many horns already deforming his body, Holy King Harrison obtained the help of servants and a sling chair to make the arduous trip to where he had sequestered the soldiers. Most of the soldiers had been killed by crossbow bolts that had been left in their bodies or hacked to death with a battle axe. The commander and the officer had been garroted.
King Tiernan had come to Harrison’s apartments and as soon as the healer had treated Gil, the king apologized personally for the mistreatment and established a stipend for Gil, saying that was one of the few ways available to make amends for an unforgivable situation.
When Harrison became king a day later, one of his first acts was to present Gil with the Medal of the King’s Honor for Heroism. At the time Harrison said, “The soldiers responsible for harming you are dead. If that were not the case, you would be able to witness their floggings and executions.”
Gil bowed as he accepted the honor, and as he straightened and their eyes met, Gil understood that Harrison had figured out he had killed the soldiers. He also saw in Harry’s eyes that he would never be betrayed.
©2022 Vera S. Scott