The Prince Commands: Being Sundry Adventures of Michael Karl, Sometime Crown Prince & Pretender to the Thrown of Morvania by Andre Norton
Authors: Andre Norton
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packed by the simple method of tossing all his clothes into two grips and pressing them down until the lids snapped together. An untidy but very swift method it proved. He pulled on a faded trench coat and a weather-beaten hat. Grab- bing up both bags he started out the door.
“I'm going to bring the car around,” he told Michael Karl, “and then Hans and I will be up to get you.”
Michael Karl heard the exhaust of a car below and then some one clumped up the stairs. He hadn't had long to wait. Hans proved to be the stable boy, a bashfully grinning, tow-head youngster of about Michael Karl's age. He ducked his head in Michael Karl's general direction and stood waiting for orders.
The American came in like a whirlwind, and Michael Karl had the breathless feeling of one caught in such a storm. Hans under a volley of orders succeeded in aiding Michael Karl to his feet and partly leading, partly carrying him out of the door, across the landing and down the stairs.
The landlord, the “jelly” of the wolfman's disrespectful comment, stood smiling to bow them out, his pudgy hands playing with his none too clean apron. His smile was a little strained, and Michael Karl knew that for all the American's fine story, the landlord suspected who his sudden guest was and just who wanted him very badly.
They were out of the door into the Inn courtyard, and Michael Karl was carefully placed on the seat of a light gray roadster. Hans went away grinning bashfully still and fingering the first piece of silver he had seen in a long day. Wealthy travelers like this American were very few and far between at the Inn of the Crown.
The Inn sign, a warped and badly painted crown, creaked farewell and they were off with the American at the wheel. Michael Karl glanced back over his shoulder. He never expected to see the Inn of the Crown again.
“These roads,” said his companion suddenly, “are preposterous. Near Rein there are none better even in America, but once you get ten miles beyond a city they're simply horrible.”
He skillfully swerved to avoid a couple of large stones lying carelessly in the middle of the right of way.
“It wouldn't take one man ten minutes to cart those away, but no one has, and I'll bet they've been there more than a year. You'd think that the government would do something about it. They do have some sort of a road inspector but the job has a fat salary attached so it goes to some fool at court who's a friend of the higher ups. It's the same way with everything; that Werewolf for instance, if they really wanted to get rid of him they could, but there's too much graft.”
The American's words set Michael Karl thinking. If he had ruled, how much could he have done towards straightening out the muddled affairs of the kingdom hampered by such aides as the Count and the General?
“Tell me about Rein,” he commanded suddenly.
Chpater V
Michael Karl Enters His Capital
The American was only too eager to describe Michael Karl's capital.
“It's a wonderful place. The upper town hasn't been touched since the middle of the eighteenth century. Historians and such go quite wild about it. You know its history of course—”
“No,” said Michael Karl, “I don't know any more about it than it's called Rein and is on the Laub river.”
The American glanced at him sharply.
“Well, it was the ducal city when Morvania was a duchy instead of a kingdom. The Castle Fortress was built before and during the Crusades and the Cathedral in 1234. Morvania was a duchy until 1810 when the reining duke got the favor of Napoleon and had two large slices from neighboring stales added to his duchy and the whole made a kingdom.
“It caused a lot of trouble because Innesberg was one of the small towns the Duke seized, and Innesberg is now almost as large as Rein and the leading commercial and manufacturing city in the kingdom. The place is a hotbed of Communism and the Council is going to have a lot of trouble with it before
“I'm going to bring the car around,” he told Michael Karl, “and then Hans and I will be up to get you.”
Michael Karl heard the exhaust of a car below and then some one clumped up the stairs. He hadn't had long to wait. Hans proved to be the stable boy, a bashfully grinning, tow-head youngster of about Michael Karl's age. He ducked his head in Michael Karl's general direction and stood waiting for orders.
The American came in like a whirlwind, and Michael Karl had the breathless feeling of one caught in such a storm. Hans under a volley of orders succeeded in aiding Michael Karl to his feet and partly leading, partly carrying him out of the door, across the landing and down the stairs.
The landlord, the “jelly” of the wolfman's disrespectful comment, stood smiling to bow them out, his pudgy hands playing with his none too clean apron. His smile was a little strained, and Michael Karl knew that for all the American's fine story, the landlord suspected who his sudden guest was and just who wanted him very badly.
They were out of the door into the Inn courtyard, and Michael Karl was carefully placed on the seat of a light gray roadster. Hans went away grinning bashfully still and fingering the first piece of silver he had seen in a long day. Wealthy travelers like this American were very few and far between at the Inn of the Crown.
The Inn sign, a warped and badly painted crown, creaked farewell and they were off with the American at the wheel. Michael Karl glanced back over his shoulder. He never expected to see the Inn of the Crown again.
“These roads,” said his companion suddenly, “are preposterous. Near Rein there are none better even in America, but once you get ten miles beyond a city they're simply horrible.”
He skillfully swerved to avoid a couple of large stones lying carelessly in the middle of the right of way.
“It wouldn't take one man ten minutes to cart those away, but no one has, and I'll bet they've been there more than a year. You'd think that the government would do something about it. They do have some sort of a road inspector but the job has a fat salary attached so it goes to some fool at court who's a friend of the higher ups. It's the same way with everything; that Werewolf for instance, if they really wanted to get rid of him they could, but there's too much graft.”
The American's words set Michael Karl thinking. If he had ruled, how much could he have done towards straightening out the muddled affairs of the kingdom hampered by such aides as the Count and the General?
“Tell me about Rein,” he commanded suddenly.
Chpater V
Michael Karl Enters His Capital
The American was only too eager to describe Michael Karl's capital.
“It's a wonderful place. The upper town hasn't been touched since the middle of the eighteenth century. Historians and such go quite wild about it. You know its history of course—”
“No,” said Michael Karl, “I don't know any more about it than it's called Rein and is on the Laub river.”
The American glanced at him sharply.
“Well, it was the ducal city when Morvania was a duchy instead of a kingdom. The Castle Fortress was built before and during the Crusades and the Cathedral in 1234. Morvania was a duchy until 1810 when the reining duke got the favor of Napoleon and had two large slices from neighboring stales added to his duchy and the whole made a kingdom.
“It caused a lot of trouble because Innesberg was one of the small towns the Duke seized, and Innesberg is now almost as large as Rein and the leading commercial and manufacturing city in the kingdom. The place is a hotbed of Communism and the Council is going to have a lot of trouble with it before
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