The Heir (14 page)

Servants brought course after course of
food, all while keeping the wine and ale flowing. Baylin nursed his
drink as day turned into night.
I must keep a clear head if I
wish to slip away quietly.
The moonlight shown bright through
the high windows, adding a cool cast to the candlelit room. Many of
the guests in the room, both townspeople and guards, were beginning
to feel the effects from drinking to excess.
Now is my chance. I
can make it appear the celebration has made me tired.

The Prince stood and addressed the King and
Queen. “I do beg your pardon, but I believe I am in need of rest. I
appreciate your hospitality and do regret leaving early.”

“Of course,” Gideon replied. “Allow me to
have someone show you to your room.”

“Oh… Not at all…” Baylin stumbled over his
words. “I will find it. Plus, a walk would do me some good.”

“Nonsense, I insist,” the King said, raising
a hand and motioning to a nearby steward. “Please see that Prince
Baylin finds his room, and make sure the guards are put on the door
as we discussed.”

Baylin’s forehead wrinkled as he raised his
eyebrows and tilted his head to one side. “I beg your pardon, Your
Grace, but what guards do you speak of?”

“It is nothing, my Prince,” replied Fia,
putting a gentle hand on his arm. “We have instructed our guards to
stand watch outside your door. A simple precaution to ensure your
safety while you are with us.”

Baylin swallowed hard. “I appreciate the
gesture, truly. However, you will find my own guards are perfectly
capable…”

“Capable of allowing you to leave the
Kingdom?” Cadman’s slick voice cut through the air.

Baylin turned and looked at his uncle. “My
comings and goings are my own business. Certainly none of
yours!”

“They are my business!” shouted the
Princess. “We are to be married. You cannot go to Grasmere.”

The Prince took in a deep breath and rolled
his eyes. “It is my duty to return to Grasmere while my father is
ill. It is not up for debate; I am returning home.” Baylin turned
and walked around the table in a huff. He bowed to King Gideon and
Queen Fia. “I cannot thank you enough for your hospitality, and I
do regret having to depart early.”

Gideon walked around the table and shook
Baylin’s hand with a tight grip. “I understand, son, truly I
do.”

Baylin sighed, his grip relaxing with
relief. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

“However,” the King kept his grip tight on
Baylin’s hand, “I’m afraid you will not be going anywhere.”

The Prince searched his eyes. He turned his
gaze to Fia then back to the King. “What… I don’t…”

The King, with a smile planted across his
face, said through gritted teeth, “Boy, do you think I’m going to
let your affections for some commoner bed wife ruin the fate of my
Kingdom?”

Baylin failed to hide the shock that shown
across his face. He looked at Isla, then Cadman and then to Queen
Fia. They were all smiling, as though they were in on a joke he had
not been aware of.

King Gideon continued to smile as he
whispered ever so quietly, so not to draw the attention of the
guests of the celebration. “Yes, I know of your whore and the
little brat she carries in her belly. I know of your constant
demands to your father to allow you to make her, some riffraff from
Open Shaw, the Queen of Grasmere. I even know your dear, sweet
mother is not against the idea.”

The young Prince searched the King’s face in
disbelief, certain this must be some dream.
This man who stands
before me cannot be the same man I have known all these
years.

“Do you want to know what else I know?” the
King continued. “The only thing keeping your little bed wife and
your bastard alive is your cooperation. So be a good lad and
sit.”

Anger boiled up inside Baylin.
How could
I have been so blind? They are all snakes, and I have been letting
them coil around me from the beginning. Luana saw them for what
they were; now my blindness could destroy us both.

Baylin sat down in the chair between
Princess Isla and Lord Cadman. He then turned to Cadman. “What
could you possibly gain from all this?”

Cadman gave a sly grin. “Baylin, will you
never learn? He who controls the heir controls the Kingdom.”

The words echoed to Baylin as he recalled
the dream from that morning.
It was not a dream. It was a
vision, a warning. I’m meant to protect the Kingdom from my own
flesh and blood.

“You do not control me,” Baylin spat.

“Do we not?” Princess Isla interrupted.
“Your love for that bed wife is your undoing. Love, Baylin. Love is
weakness.”

Baylin glared at Isla. “You mean like the
love you professed for me?”

“Oh my goodness, you really believed that?”
The Princess threw her head back and laughed. “I must be better
than I thought!” She laughed again, joined by her family. “The only
thing I love is power, and I will have that in abundance once I’m
Queen of Grasmere.”

Cadman leaned in close to Baylin’s ear.
“Make yourself comfortable, nephew, you’re going to be with us for
quite some time. Unless, of course, you want to see your precious
Luana dead, which I can happily arrange.”

The Prince felt like a piece of rope,
unraveling and coming loose.
Is everything around me a
facade?
He looked at the smiling faces, the villagers as they
danced to the music. The soldiers, laughing and eating as they told
stories of the war.
Is the whole room filled with people who are
against me, or are they as unsuspecting as I have been?
His
heart pounded in his chest as the panic set in.

He searched the room, praying to the gods
for help. Most of his men were in control of their senses. Men of
Grasmere were commanded to avoid drinking to excess when outside of
the safety of the Kingdom. It was a practice meant to prevent them
from being taken unaware while incapacitated. The Prince never
dreamed it would be used in a situation like this. He continued
searching the room and spotted his loyal friend Ferric standing
motionless in the sea of people, with his eyes set on Baylin. He
appeared as though he had seen the whole exchange take place.
Perhaps he did see it. Maybe there is hope.

Ferric had been Baylin’s friend since they
were boys. They had played together, practiced fighting together
and, as the Prince’s right hand, they had developed a way of
communicating through simple gestures that others might overlook.
Of course, this had only been a game they had played as young boys;
there was no guarantee Ferric would even recognize the subtle
gesture.

Baylin glanced around at Lord Cadman and the
rest of the royal family. They were all so perfect in their manner
of interaction; as though they were a happy family, enjoying the
party before them. He looked back to Ferric.
Here’s hoping you
remember, old friend.
The Prince slid a finger across his
forehead, as though he were wiping his brow. He then turned his
head to the right and tucked a strand of his long black hair behind
his exposed ear.
A sign of distress
. He only hoped his
friend remembered it from so long ago. As boys, it had been an
innocent way to relay to one another that one of them had gotten
into trouble, or was not allowed to play.
I never dreamed I
would be using it to signal that I was being held captive in front
of a room of people.
He stared at Ferric, waiting for any sign
that he had been understood. His friend gave the slightest nod and
pushed a strand of his own hair behind his ear.

He remembers.
Relief washed over
Baylin as he watched Ferric filter through the crowd and one by
one, subtlety interact with men from Grasmere. With the room as
full as it was, a person wouldn’t notice it unless they were
looking for it.
Now that they know, what do we do? There is no
way to relay any type of orders or strategy to Ferric without
someone finding out.

Princess Isla interrupted Baylin’s thoughts.
“Baylin, I think it best you write to your mother, the Queen. You
will tell her you plan to stay here with me to make wedding
preparations.”

“She’ll never believe that, you stupid cow,”
Baylin spat.

Princess Isla gasped and raised her hand to
strike Baylin but her mother, the Queen, reached out a hand and
stopped her. “Now, Isla, my dear, you do not want your subjects
seeing you act in such a matter. You are the future Queen of
Grasmere. You must reflect elegance and poise. Remember, the
easiest way to hurt him is to hurt his bed wife.”

“I wonder how long that little bed wife of
yours can last without you there to protect her?” Isla smiled at
Baylin. “Now you will write your mother and tell her you are
staying here.”

“She knows I worry for my father, and I have
already sent a bird to inform her of my return,” Baylin said. “If I
do not arrive within the next few days she will know something has
happened.”

King Gideon glared at Lord Cadman. “Is this
true?”

Cadman looked nervous, as though Baylin had
caused a hitch in his plan. “It is possible, I suppose. The Queen
is close with the Prince. I believe she may suspect. However, if we
relay that the Prince is ill, it will be plausible.”

“It can’t be anything too serious,” the King
interjected. “We don’t want the Queen sending…”

Cadman and the King spoke across Baylin as
though he were not there. The Prince scanned the room and could see
the crowd had become considerably thinner of blue tunics. Most of
the men from Grasmere were nowhere to be seen.
Ferric, I hope
you know what you are doing.

“Baylin!” Cadman barked. “Did you hear what
I said?”

The Prince turned his head slowly, glaring
at his uncle. “What?”

“You will write to your mother and relay
that you are ill. We will get the Master of Mirstone to give you a
diagnosis, an ailment that is believable but not too serious. You
will inform her that you plan to send the men from Grasmere back to
guard the Kingdom but will remain here for a week or so, to
recover.” Cadman prattled on his orders as though he expected no
resistance.

Before the Prince had time to respond, a
guard of Grasmere approached the royal table with a bow.
“Apologies, Your Graces. I must speak with Lord Cadman.”

Oh no! Is he a plant of Cadman’s? Is he
going to warn him about Ferric’s plan?
Fear was bubbling in
Baylin’s stomach. He made eye contact with the man as Cadman stood
to walk around the table and the guard slipped a strand of hair
behind his ear.
He’s one of Ferric’s.

Baylin braced himself, ready to move if a
plan was executed. He did not like being unaware of what was to
come, but he knew he could trust his friend.

He watched the guard and Cadman carefully as
they spoke, waiting for a sign. The man and Lord Cadman finished
their conversation and the guard turned to Baylin and bowed. “My
Prince Baylin, are you enjoying the festivities?”

Never allowing his eyes to leave the guard,
Baylin replied, “Sadly, I’m not in a celebratory mood.”

The guard raised an eyebrow, as though he
were amused by the statement. He placed his hand on the hilt of his
sword. “Then perhaps we should return to Grasmere.”

Princess Isla started to interrupt, but the
guard had already given the signal Baylin needed. He quickly rose
from his seat and rolled over the table as the guard unsheathed his
sword.

Both the Princess and Queen screamed out in
terror as the King and Cadman rose to their feet, drawing their own
swords. The commotion gained the attention of the nearby Mirstone
guards, who ran to the aid of their King, and drew their swords on
Prince Baylin and his fellow guard.

“What are you going to do, Baylin? You have
nowhere to run,” Cadman hissed, pointing his sword at the
Prince.

The room erupted with the sound of screams
and the deafening clamor of thousands of feet as Grasmere guards
flooded the room. Their blue cloaks flowed as they stormed the
room, maneuvering through the villagers and Mirstone guards like a
river swirling around pebbles in a stream. The soldiers tore
through the room, squaring off with King Gideon’s disoriented
guards. The men from Grasmere outnumbered the Mirstone guards three
to one.

Ferric shoved through the crowd until he was
at Prince Baylin’s side. “We are with you, my Prince.”

Princess Isla looked from Ferric to Baylin
and back again, anger mixed with terror written all over her face.
“No!” She scrambled forward, reaching out for the Prince. Queen Fia
wrapped a hand around her daughter’s wrist, pulling her back behind
the guards.

The King’s guards were fidgety. The day was
supposed to be filled with merriment and celebration. Instead they
were preparing to defend their King from the Prince of
Grasmere.

“Your Grace, King Gideon!” shouted a guard
standing between the King and Baylin. “What is this?”

“He has threatened the crown!” cried King
Gideon. “Baylin is a traitor to the Kingdom! Seize him!”

The guards looked at one another, wary and
bewildered. No one wanted to be the first man to move on the Prince
of Grasmere. He was, after all, the hero of the Kingdom. The day
was to be a celebration of his victory, yet now they were commanded
to apprehend him.

“This is a lie!” Ferric shouted. “If you
move on him you will be struck down where you stand!”

“Peace, please!” called out Baylin. He did
not want any innocents to get hurt. “These men are only obeying
their liege, they are loyal and devoted and should not be punished
for doing so. Men of Mirstone, hear me! Lord Cadman has conspired
with Gideon...”

“These are not your men to command,”
interjected the King. “I am the King, not you, boy!”

“You’re outnumbered, Gideon,” Baylin said.
“Give up this madness and I will petition my father to be
merciful.”