I Will Be King
“You could not find her, or you would not? Which was it?” raged Prince Suel, and another elegant bowl of sea crystal shattered on the rough stone behind Harlan. He did not flinch, he did not blink, as it flew past. Suel had been shouting curses and abusing him since an hour after dawn, when they returned empty-handed.
One day, he thought. One day, and not too far away, if the God who loves me will permit it.
“Convince him to try harder,” snarled the Prince, shoving open the doors and stalking out.
A moment of silence. Harlan looked around at the burly men on either side.
“Shall we?” asked the Captain. Harlan sighed. They led him across to the same doors, but turned left and marched down pitted stairs into a gloomy hallway. At the end, those in front stepped aside and he ducked into a wide, low room with iron rings cemented into the stones on the opposite wall. Stripping off his leather tunic and undershirt, he stepped up to the wall and held his wrists out to be chained. Red welts crossed his back, not yet healed from a prior visit.
“Ready?” asked the Captain.
“Never, for this,” grunted Harlan. “Do your job.”
A bit of cotton yarn brushed against his shoulders. He looked down to see the red string fall softly to the floor.
“You are strong, Harlan. I shall report honestly that you endured it all with not a cry, not a sound.”
Harlan turned and lowered his arms, not yet tied to the torture rings. The men stood in a half-circle, smiling.
“Sorry,” muttered the Captain, restraining a grin. “All of our best whips are in the laundry.”
Harlan relaxed, and laughed, but silently — sound would carry.
“Thank you, brother,” he whispered. “I will not forget. When he realizes I am gone, say that I crawled from my punishment into the forest, searching desperately for the one he seeks.”
The Captain nodded. Harlan dropped to his knees, crawled a few feet, and was suddenly alone with his thoughts. Quickly dressing, he slipped quietly into his quarters, gathered what he needed, and disappeared from Reton Castle.
“They’re whipping him now.”
“Again, Father? How many times do you think he will endure that?”
“As many as I say.” Suel stared at his son.
Ruen looked away. “Don’t look at me like that, Father. I do not challenge you.” Ruen stood, towering over the Prince, and moved to the broad windowsill to look out at the wide green meadows, flowers sparkling in the bright sun of a chill springtime.
“I love her, Father.”
“Ha!”
“I do. I have always …”
“She’s yours,” interrupted Suel. “I give her to you!” He took another bite of the barley biscuit and stared into the yellow and orange flames in the fireplace. “Yes,” he continued in a whisper, “I give her to you, that will serve her well.”
He turned quickly. “Do you mean it? She serves Mother. How can you give her to me?”
“I give what I want, to whom I want, whenever I want. I am the … the Prince.”
The unspoken word hung in the air. “Will you ever be King, Father?”
Suel scowled. “Time, Ruen. A little more time. The people need to forget, and they will be ready for a new king. I will be … King.” He licked his lips as he said it, and Ruen thought his father was tasting the word, savoring it. He did not understand such things.
“Will I marry her, Father?”
“Of course! As soon as we get her back, she’s yours. The wretch! Running away …”
“Why did she go, Father?”
“Why does any woman do anything?” Suel flung the biscuit into the fire. “Marissa treated her well, as well as any servant deserves to be treated. She’s cold, though, be warned. She will not be the wife you imagine!
“What do you mean, Father?”
He looked at his son for a long moment.
“Never mind, Ruen.”
He could not read his father’s thoughts, but he never could. He thought of Lia again, and imagined her in the deep forest. By now she must be hungry. And cold. Maybe lost.
“Will they find her?”
“They’ll find her,” muttered Suel. “Or Harlan will wish they had.”
Yes, thought Ruen, her father will find her. He loves her. He will do whatever he has to, and find her and bring her … back? Will he? Back here?
Ruen stared at the forest. Would Harlan bring her back? A thought formed in his mind, and he decided not to put it into words. He would bring her back himself.
Father will be proud.