The Prince Read online

  “There is no excuse for your bungling!”

  Cairmac bowed his head. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  Ergyfel shifted his eyes to the elderly lord, Finnalaghe, standing next to Earl Cairmac. “And you, what do you have to say for yourself? How can you defend this wretched weakling’s failure?”

  The white haired Earl of Hillshire stepped forward and bowed. “My lord,” he began in calming tones. “As you know, I have fought the Gwythies many times. From Earl Cairmac’s report, I can only believe that they have been planning this invasion for some time.”

  “What difference does that make?”

  “They have emptied the Saxon mercenary halls and brought their entire army to our shores.”

  “Again, what difference does that make?”

  “The difference, my lord, is that in both battles, at their sea-landing and outside Dyven, the Earl’s troops were so badly outnumbered that he could not possibly win.”

  The Earl of Wyneddham stepped forward. “Yes, Your Majesty, as I tried to explain—”

  “Shut up, Cairmac.” Ergyfel scowled.

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” The cowed earl bowed like a scolded chambermaid.

  The Earl of Hillshire stared at his compatriot, the Earl of Wyneddham. Despite the man’s loose morals, Finney had always held Cairmac with some regard and, at times, even respect—but now all he felt was pity. The man who governs all of Wyneddhamshire should not be such a coward that he could not confront his king with the truth. Ergyfel had reduced him to a frightened slave in fancy clothes.

  “What about your men, Finnalaghe? Are they ready to attack the enemy?”

  “Before you recalled me, my lord, I gave orders for my men to lay ambushes and set up other delays for the Gwythies, but I ordered them to retreat in the face of an all-out assault.”

  “Retreat?” Ergyfel’s face turned red. “You ordered them to retreat?”

  Earl Finnalaghe allowed the echo of Ergyfel’s voice to die before he resumed. “My lord, I do not have enough men to stop them, much less attack successfully.”

  “I do not want your excuses, Finnalaghe! I want results!” Ergyfel pounded the arm of his throne to punctuate his demands.

  “Yes, my lord.” The Earl of Hillshire inclined his head. “And I can give them to you if—”

  “If what?”

  “If you release half of the army you have here, to me, and grant me command of your knights.”

  “Half my army? And my knights?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Impossible!” Ergyfel wiped his lips. “We need those men here to defend us.”

  “The enemy landed his entire force in Wyneddham …”

  “We need them here!”

  Finnalaghe stepped forward. “My lord, the remainder of your army and the castle guard can hold off any secondary attacks to Orgulous and Nyraval, but unless I have more men to confront the Gwythies, the rest of Lyonesse will fall. Then the fate of Orgulous will be sealed.”

  “Enough!” Ergyfel rose to his feet. “You will not say such things again. Do you understand? I alone know what is best for the kingdom.”

  Silence filled the great hall as Ergyfel descended from the dais and looked at the faces of his lords. The more capable lords of the realm were in the field, preparing to battle the invaders. Most of the men present were young, foppish weaklings, inexperienced in the ways of war, but they had one quality that gave them standing here: they were loyal to Ergyfel and his new order.

  Billy is on his way. Ergyfel’s nightmares still plagued him. And I need my army to fend off his army. But I can’t tell them that. They must never know that he is alive, or I’m finished.

  King Ergyfel cleared his throat and, in an authoritative voice, announced, “There is another threat to Orgulous, on its way now …”

  A murmur rippled through the assembled lords and swelled into a panicked rumble.

  “Silence!” the Earl of Hillshire shouted.

  Ergyfel nodded to him and continued, “And we must be ready to defend against it.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Enemies, Finnalaghe. Enemies that would take advantage of our current state.”

  The earl frowned. “Who?”

  “Do you doubt me, Finnalaghe?” Yet more spittle flew from Ergyfel’s mouth, as he moved to within inches of the Earl’s face.

  “No, my lord.” The earl stood his ground. “I only wish to know from which direction this new threat will come.”

  Ergyfel frowned at the elderly lord and turned away. He rubbed his temples as he paced towards the dais. “Because of diplomacy, I cannot reveal to you who may be involved. However, my source tells me that they are massing as we speak. They will, of course, come by sea, but we know not where they will land. I only know that they plan to strike here, at Orgulous.”

  “My lord, give me the army now, before this new enemy strikes, and I will defeat the Gwythies. Then we can concentrate—”

  “Finnalaghe! Be silent. I warned you not to speak of this again.”

  “But it’s the only way.”

  “I said, be silent!” Ergyfel was fuming. “It is not the only way!”

  Earl Cairmac looked up from the floor. “I will do it, Your Majesty.”

  “What will you do, you simpering twit?”

  “I will take Finnalaghe’s men and attack the enemy.”

  Ergyfel and the Earl of Hillshire turned to view Cairmac. The king wore an expression of surprise and delight, but Finney only sneered.

  “Well, well, well. Cairmac.” Ergyfel grinned. “So, you’re not the coward I took you for.”

  “You fool!” Finnalaghe hissed. “What do you hope to prove?”

  Ergyfel strode directly to Finnalaghe and struck him with his fist. The old man fell to the floor.

  Ergyfel kicked the venerable old lord as he shouted, “Did you not see … the men outside … in the courtyard?”

  Finney got to his hands and knees. Pain was written on his face, but it was more than physical pain in his eyes: it was sorrow. All his life, he had faithfully defended the kingdom. Now, many of his fellow lords turned away while he was beaten, and Ergyfel’s zealous pets gorged their eyes on the spectacle.

  “I asked you a question!” Ergyfel gave the earl another kick. “Did you see the men?”

  “On the gallows?”

  “Yes, on the gallows, you feeble-minded fool! All of them failed me, and for their treachery, they have been properly rewarded.”

  “You’re mad,” Finnalaghe whispered.

  “You disappoint me. You fail me before you even try. In fact, you fail me because you refuse to try.”

  Ergyfel straightened and walked away from the earl. He motioned to two guards who stood near the dais, then pointed to Finney. “Take him away.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty. Where shall we take him?”

  King Ergyfel watched the guards pick up the aged lord; his dark eyes completely void of emotion. He then shoed them away with a wave of his hand. “Hang him with the others.”

  Ergyfel’s command caused the guards to drop their charge. They stood motionless in shock. The men Ergyfel had hanged, up until now, were nobodies—but this was Earl Finnalaghe, a celebrated hero of the people.

  “Are you deaf? Take him away!”

  The guards bowed and ushered the Earl of Hillshire from the great hall. The assembled lords watched, with eyes open and mouths shut, each one fearful that they could be next.

  That should keep them in line. Ergyfel watched the doors of the great hall close. He then returned his attention to the Earl of Wyneddham. “So, you will rid me of these invaders?”

  “Yes, Your Highness.” Cairmac nodded. “I pledge my life on it.”

  “Funny you should put it like that.” Ergyfel smiled at his little joke. “That is precisely what it will cost you to fail me again.”

  The King looked to the back of the hall and the lone figure lurking in the corner shadows. The man had been present throughout the assembly, but had
gone unnoticed to all but Ergyfel’s keen, sorcerous eyes.

  Ergyfel raised his voice and called out, “Hengest, please, come forward.”

  Several guards flinched as the thin, grey figure emerged from the darkness. Ergyfel held up his hand as a sign to let him pass, and the guards relaxed.

  Again, all eyes were to the back of the hall as the mysterious man strolled to the dais. He seemed quite ordinary as he passed into the light streaming from the high windows. He wore breeches, a tunic, and a hooded gorget that could be described as common or even low, and no visible jewelry or weapons. His face remained unseen, obscured by the hood’s recesses.

  The stranger bowed before the dais and pulled back his hood. Long hair, like fine brass wires, flowed over his head, terminating in a tidy warrior’s knot. A short, well-groomed beard with a narrow white streak adorned his chin.

  “Your Majesty,” the man murmured.

  “Hengest, stand up.” Ergyfel came down beside him.

  As the man stood and turned, he made eye contact with each of the assembled lords. His blue eyes froze their hearts with the chill of an unforgiving sea.

  Ergyfel placed his arm around the stranger and said, “This is Hengest, my half-brother. After Sygeon died, I realized how important it was to have family around, so I asked Hengest to come. I am naming him as my First Counselor, and you are to address him as such. Hengest will know my thoughts on most matters, and will at times be my eyes and voice. I want you to look upon him as an extension of me.”

  The lords bowed to Hengest.

  “Good. I believe you understand me perfectly. Now, Cairmac, you will return to the field. Collect what’s left of your men and take control of Finnalaghe’s army. Levy every able boy and man between here and there to fill your ranks, and attack. I want you to destroy the army of Gwythia. Crush them and drive them into the sea. Make them wish they never set foot on our soil.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” The earl bowed. “It shall be done.”

  “Yes, Cairmac, because I order it. And to see that it is done, Hengest shall accompany you. Now leave us.”

  Earl Cairmac chewed his lip and eyed Hengest. “Yes, Your Majesty.” He turned to leave, but his master’s voice stopped him.

  “Remember, Cairmac,” Ergyfel said in warning tones. “Hengest will be my eyes and my voice.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  As soon as the Earl of Wyneddhamshire had left, the remaining lords surrounded Hengest. Each one engaged in degrading and more than obvious ploys to ingratiate himself to the new First Counselor.

  “Leave us,” Ergyfel said over the din. “Leave us. I know you are all anxious to meet my brother, but you will have to wait. I have important things to discuss with him … alone.”

  Ergyfel dismissed his guards as the young lords bowed and scraped their way from the great hall.

  Ergyfel called, “Gullinburst.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” The house servant bowed his way to the throne.

  “Prepare a room for my brother; something near my own.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “And, Gullinburst?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty?”

  “Have you found my crown yet?”

  “Well I-I don’t have the, uhm, that is the exact, but I. ... No, Your Majesty.”

  Ergyfel coaxed Gullinburst close with his finger and whispered, “If you don’t find my crown in a fortnight, I’ll cut off your fingers one joint at a time. Now, find my crown!”

  Gullinburst fled from the great hall, slamming the doors behind him. When they were alone, Hengest let out a guffaw that reverberated in the rafters.

  “My, my, my, Brother, what an odd flock you have there.”

  Ergyfel chuckled. “Yes, but their combined influence and affluence are enough to keep me in power.”

  “Brother!” Hengest threw wide his arms.

  “Brother!” Ergyfel answered in kind.

  The two half-brothers embraced, then turned and, arm in arm, climbed up the dais. Ergyfel took his seat on the throne while Hengest sat on a bench beside him.

  “If Mother could only see you now.”

  “And how is Mother?” Ergyfel’s face scrunched in distaste.

  “She’s dead, Brother.”

  “Oh, what a shame.” Irony dripped from his tongue. “And how did the dear old witch die?”

  “She was killed.”

  “Oh?”

  “Beheaded by angry villagers, who claimed she put a hex on their cattle.”

  Ergyfel chuckled and placed his hand on Hengest’s shoulder. “You wouldn’t be telling a tale just to cheer me up now, would you?”

  “No, no. Every word of it truth.”

  Ergyfel arched his eyebrows and sighed. “And I was so looking forward to choking her with my own hands ...”

  “Ergyfel!” Hengest’s mouth dropped open. “She was our mother!”

  The king looked at his brother. “She may have bore me, but from that day forward, she gave me nothing!”

  The reunited brothers stared at each other in silence.

  Suddenly, Ergyfel became quite animated. “Well … enough reminiscing for now. I have a mission for you.”

  “Yes, Brother.”

  Ergyfel reached into the folds of his robe and pulled out a round copper disk, held up by its chain. “Take this.”

  “What is it?” Hengest examined the spinning necklace.

  “It’s a gift, Brother. With it, I will see what you see and hear what you hear.”

  Hengest gazed warily at the amulet. As its spinning slowed, he could see that upon one side there was a gem very much like a cat’s eye, and indeed, it was set in-between two copper eyelids. On the reverse, there were strange inscriptions about the circumference, spiraling into an intricate knotted symbol in the center.

  Hengest reached out to take the amulet. At that moment, Ergyfel mumbled something incomprehensible, and a small spark leapt from the amulet to Hengest’s fingers. He jumped back with an oath. Still holding his hands close to his chest, he stared at his brother.

  Ergyfel smiled. “If I had told you it was going to do that, you wouldn’t have touched it, would you?”

  Hengest relaxed, but still refused to come closer or take the amulet.

  Ergyfel betrayed some frustration. “Oh, please.” He tossed the necklace at his brother, who caught it with a delayed flinch as if expecting another jolt, but none came.

  Ergyfel watched as Hengest put the amulet around his neck and slipped it inside his tunic. “Very good. Now, for your mission …”

  “Yes, tell me, Brother.” Hengest slid back to his former position beside Ergyfel.

  “As you know, I want you to go with Cairmac to take charge of Finnalaghe’s men. He will try to levy the troops we need, but he is soft. See to it that he is not. Use press-gangs where necessary. This is the first part of your mission.”

  “Yes, Brother.”

  “For the second part, you must keep order amongst the troops and ensure their bravery by executing all deserters and cowards; preferably by hanging.”

  “Yes, Brother.”

  “Despite what you may have heard, Gwythia’s army is as well-equipped and organized as the former legions of Rome. We will need all our cunning and discipline to defeat them. That is why Cairmac failed: not because he was outnumbered, but because he was weak-willed.”

  “I will be as steel.”

  “Good.” Ergyfel patted him on the arm. “The final part of your mission is to kill Cairmac.” Ergyfel paused a moment to observe his brother’s reaction. He smiled at Hengest’s unchanging features. “If he falters in any way, kill him and take command. When the battle’s over, Cairmac will be counted among the dead.”

  “If we should win, Cairmac would be a hero.”

  “When you win.” Ergyfel frowned. “Cairmac shall be a dead hero.”

  “I understand, Brother.”

  “Good, there’s nothing like the understanding that comes with family. Now, come with
me. I have an urge to see how long Finnalaghe’s neck has become. Oh, and I want you to meet Maeven.”

  King Ergyfel rose and descended from the dais, accompanied by his brother. As they approached the dimly lit rear of the great hall, a figure lunged from behind a column. There was a flash of steel as Hengest pushed Ergyfel back. The long blade of the assailant slashed the king’s robe, just missing the royal face.

  Hengest grabbed the man’s sword arm and kicked his midriff. The would-be assassin let out an explosive grunt and dropped his weapon. Hengest whirled around, with the newly acquired sword flashing in his hand.

  “Stop!” Ergyfel yelled, but it was too late. Even had he wanted to, Hengest could not pull back the strike that removed his target’s head.

  Hengest finished his follow-through with a flourish. Abruptly, his head jerked to the side to look at Ergyfel. “Stop?” He noticed a few flecks of blood on his brother’s face and glanced back to the decapitated body at his feet. “Very well. If you insist.”

  Ergyfel chortled. “Hengest, you always make me laugh.”

  Hengest placed the sword next to the body, eyeing the king like a reluctant child returning some forbidden treat. Ergyfel laughed again and examined the dead assassin.

  “Now, how am I supposed to question him?”

  Hengest scratched his chin. “I don’t know. Know any good doctors?”

  The two brothers laughed and playfully pushed each other. Then Ergyfel noticed that the head was missing. “Where’s the head?”

  “Oh no!” Hengest put his hands to his mouth in mock terror. “Now he’s really lost his head.”

  Both Ergyfel and Hengest searched the area. The King’s First Counselor found the missing gourd behind the same column that had hidden the assassin before the attack.

  “Now, where do you think you’re heading?” Hengest reached down and grabbed the head. “Chin up, old bean ... the king wants to talk to you.” He then held it up for Ergyfel’s inspection. “Know him?”

  “Aye. Lord Angall.”

  “Well, milord …” Hengest held out the head so he could bow to it. “… You really shouldn’t have tried such a heady deed. You just don’t have the stomach for it. Now, don’t get a-head of me. Just tell us, who put you up to this, eh? Did you put your head together with someone? Come now, who heads the organization? Humph. The strong, silent type.”