horse, a little harder than he intended, feeling hurried.
Once he reached the gates, he reined the horse in. Two guards stepped in front of his path.
“What brings you here?” The first guard’s voice was harsh.
“I wish to see the king and queen.”
Both men were silent, and then burst into jagged laughter. “Do you now? Many wish to, but there is no reason for you to see them. Be on your way, and do not attempt to bother those who are in mourning.”
“For the Prince Casimir?”
“Indeed, yes. But it is no business of yours.”
“To the contrary. I do have business with the king and queen regarding their son. Take me to them now. This is not for discussion with any other.”
“Hark at the lordling!” Said the other man. “You have business with them, do you? Mayhap you will change your tune after speaking with the captain.”
Casimir could not contain his disbelief as the first guard reached for him and pulled him roughly from his horse. The second guard took the reins of the horse and led him from Casimir and the first guard.
“I demand to see the king! It is my right as a citizen of Ethion!” He yelled, attempting to get away from the first guard, who seemed to feel that collapsing on him was an effective method of containment.
Apparently more effective than he realized, because the second guard grabbed his arms and yanked them roughly behind his back, fastening manacles on each wrist. With the second click, the first guard let go and pushed Casimir away. Almost simultaneously, the second guard yanked him to his feet.
“You shall tell your tale to the captain, and woe to you if you are making a mockery,” said the first guard. They drew him along into the castle. Casimir looked around wildly. Where was his horse? This was not going as planned! He tamped down his panic. How could they not see him? A simple manservant had seen him. Why could these men, who should have known their prince, not see who he was?
He composed himself. He knew the captain—at least, he thought he did. He hadn’t been to this castle in some time, but if he recalled, his father liked to travel with the same set of men, leaving a garrison at each castle to be overseen by his personal guards when he was in residence. If he was remembering correctly, the captain of Markellus’s guard was Theobald.
As the name came to him, he was dragged roughly into a small chamber where Theobald sat at a wooden desk. He was writing, as the many pieces of parchment attested to. He looked up at Casimir and his two attendants.
“Yes?”
“This one claims to want to see the king and queen.” Casimir was pushed in front of the desk.
“Oh?” Theobald’s eyebrows rose. Casimir could tell he was very interested, but hid it well. “And what, pray tell, is it that you must tell their majesties? You do know they are in mourning?”
“That is for their ears alone.” Casimir kept his own voice calm. His heart was near to beating out of his chest, and he worried that Theobald could see it at the neck of his jerkin.
“I decide what and who goes before the king and queen,” said Theobald, calmly returning to the parchment, dipping his quill into an inkpot. “You may leave him here,” he said to the guards. “I’ll call you once we are done.” He gestured to Casimir to sit on one of the rude stools in front of the desk, which he did.
Though the words were placid, Casimir again felt a chill wash over him. He didn’t like to admit it, as he thought he was a fair man, good to those around him, but not being a prince really didn’t rate highly for him. He very much appreciated how much easier life was when one was a prince. This being a common man was rotten. He made a promise then and there that when he got through this, he would be a better steward to those under him. This level of uncertainty and fear stripped a lot of joy from life.
The two guards nodded, and as Casimir watched them go, the second one who had shackled him grinned
Once he reached the gates, he reined the horse in. Two guards stepped in front of his path.
“What brings you here?” The first guard’s voice was harsh.
“I wish to see the king and queen.”
Both men were silent, and then burst into jagged laughter. “Do you now? Many wish to, but there is no reason for you to see them. Be on your way, and do not attempt to bother those who are in mourning.”
“For the Prince Casimir?”
“Indeed, yes. But it is no business of yours.”
“To the contrary. I do have business with the king and queen regarding their son. Take me to them now. This is not for discussion with any other.”
“Hark at the lordling!” Said the other man. “You have business with them, do you? Mayhap you will change your tune after speaking with the captain.”
Casimir could not contain his disbelief as the first guard reached for him and pulled him roughly from his horse. The second guard took the reins of the horse and led him from Casimir and the first guard.
“I demand to see the king! It is my right as a citizen of Ethion!” He yelled, attempting to get away from the first guard, who seemed to feel that collapsing on him was an effective method of containment.
Apparently more effective than he realized, because the second guard grabbed his arms and yanked them roughly behind his back, fastening manacles on each wrist. With the second click, the first guard let go and pushed Casimir away. Almost simultaneously, the second guard yanked him to his feet.
“You shall tell your tale to the captain, and woe to you if you are making a mockery,” said the first guard. They drew him along into the castle. Casimir looked around wildly. Where was his horse? This was not going as planned! He tamped down his panic. How could they not see him? A simple manservant had seen him. Why could these men, who should have known their prince, not see who he was?
He composed himself. He knew the captain—at least, he thought he did. He hadn’t been to this castle in some time, but if he recalled, his father liked to travel with the same set of men, leaving a garrison at each castle to be overseen by his personal guards when he was in residence. If he was remembering correctly, the captain of Markellus’s guard was Theobald.
As the name came to him, he was dragged roughly into a small chamber where Theobald sat at a wooden desk. He was writing, as the many pieces of parchment attested to. He looked up at Casimir and his two attendants.
“Yes?”
“This one claims to want to see the king and queen.” Casimir was pushed in front of the desk.
“Oh?” Theobald’s eyebrows rose. Casimir could tell he was very interested, but hid it well. “And what, pray tell, is it that you must tell their majesties? You do know they are in mourning?”
“That is for their ears alone.” Casimir kept his own voice calm. His heart was near to beating out of his chest, and he worried that Theobald could see it at the neck of his jerkin.
“I decide what and who goes before the king and queen,” said Theobald, calmly returning to the parchment, dipping his quill into an inkpot. “You may leave him here,” he said to the guards. “I’ll call you once we are done.” He gestured to Casimir to sit on one of the rude stools in front of the desk, which he did.
Though the words were placid, Casimir again felt a chill wash over him. He didn’t like to admit it, as he thought he was a fair man, good to those around him, but not being a prince really didn’t rate highly for him. He very much appreciated how much easier life was when one was a prince. This being a common man was rotten. He made a promise then and there that when he got through this, he would be a better steward to those under him. This level of uncertainty and fear stripped a lot of joy from life.
The two guards nodded, and as Casimir watched them go, the second one who had shackled him grinned
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