Late Winter 1205 AL

“Well, are you coming?”

Removing his cloak, the newly arrived Adonis Santinetta lifted a dark eyebrow and shook his head, stifling a sigh. “I cannot very well refuse, can I?” he said, draping the cloak over the back of a chair. “You are the Crown Prince of Margonne. I cannot very well tell you ‘no.’”

The prince, Lorens, grinned, letting all his gleaming white, perfectly straight teeth show. To Adon, the smile suddenly seemed predatory, a side of Lorens he had rarely seen. “Truly, you can, Adon, but being the future king—as you so observantly point out—I can simply command you to come. I could drag you behind me in chains if it were necessary! But perhaps I don’t want a flagrantly disagreeable companion on this trip. I must reconsider.”

“Perhaps that is exactly what you need,” Adon rejoined, pouring himself a glass of wine at the sideboard. He and the prince had agreed to meet in King Aldons’ underground study after his father’s exit from the night’s dinner with visiting dignitaries from the western duchies. The king rarely used it, while Lorens often spent hours there every day. “You are always surrounded by sycophants here in the palace,” Adon continued, “so someone who will challenge you from time to time may be just the thing to hone your skills as a just and winsome future ruler of your people.”

“You take liberties with your speech before the Crown Prince,” Lorens said lightly, though Adon heard a touch of pique. He crossed his legs and stared at Adon with his piercing blue eyes. “Courtiers must take care not to offend the future monarch.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not a courtier, isn’t it?” Adon said with a grin of his own. “We are not really conversing as prince and subject, are we? Your casual invitation gave me the impression we were meeting as two cousins considering a trip to Delphino.”

“A state visit,” the prince corrected, sipping from his wineglass, half-filled with a light white vintage. “It has everything to do with the royal representative’s official duties. Father is not as strong as he once was, and Satele—as usual—is in turmoil. I must demonstrate solidarity with King Mirando, a longtime friend of Margonne. Not to mention that a frank discussion of the trade situation is vital to both nations.”

“So you want me to help you with trade negotiations?” Adon asked, aghast. “I can captain a ship and get goods to the proper port, but I have never been a master of trade.”

“No, Uncle,” Lorens said, a corner of his mouth upturned, calling Adon a nickname he had used since his youth, when Adon had seemed so much older than he. “I don’t want you anywhere near the negotiating table. Give me credit for a little more intelligence than that! No, my reasons for wanting you to accompany me are purely to give you some experience in your new position.”

Adon nearly spat out the drink he had just taken. “My, you worded that diplomatically! Let me interpret: You wish me to learn the ropes of spycraft in the capital of a friendly kingdom where my untested skills—what few I have—will not plunge us into war should they cause a problem.”

The prince shrugged. “Well, there is that.” He drained his glass and set it on the low table before him. “Seriously, Adon, I just want you there to observe what you can, to start feeling comfortable in aristocratic circles, to learn the protocols, and be an adviser and an extra sword if the situation should devolve. You can call it a low-danger training mission if you like.”

“You’re right, of course,” Adon growled. “I’ve spent most of my life on a ship, not at court. But, in a way, they are not so different. The captain is king of his ship. His word is the law. The crew obeys his every command, and he decides the course they take. The traditions of the two differ, but their command structures are similar enough. I just have to learn to take commands and defer to authority.”

“Not something you do well,” the prince said, a smile touching his lips.

“I’ll admit to trusting my own counsel first,” Adon said. “Guilty as charged! It is something one learns to do as a sea captain. But I know when to comply—or at least appear to comply. I can play the game.”

“You come well-recommended by one who could also play the game,” Lorens said.

The prince spoke of Adon’s father. Mardans Santinetta had served the last two kings of Margonne, Alfons and Aldons, as those monarchs’ personal agent, handling delicate internal matters and the occasional foreign intrigue. As his official cover, he had held the rank of lieutenant and then captain in the Palace Guard but only rarely took part in the Guard’s activities. But time had caught up with Mardans, and he had recently chosen to retire to desk duty, overseeing his family’s intelligence-gathering business. He suggested to the prince that his only son was the obvious choice to take his place.

When his father had expressed his desire to retire, the younger Santinetta, now in his early forties and graying at his temples and beard, had been ready to come home from the sea. Likewise, his oldest son, Persis, had been eager to replace his father on the family’s flagship, and his second son, Cassis, was already clamoring for his own ship. But mostly, Adon wanted to spend more time with his wife Cassindra, whom he felt he had neglected for too long. Living year-round in Palisade would allow him to make it up to her.

“So, when do we leave?” Adon asked. “I assume this trip is in the early planning stages.”

The prince barked a laugh. “You assume wrongly! We leave at dawn on Starday, the day after tomorrow! While it is a state visit, which would usually be a complicated affair, I am trying to keep it simple. You and me, an adviser or two, a squad or two of Palace Guard soldiers, and Carena and a maid or two.”

The Jester is a clean YA fantasy novella about a young man, Mardans, with many interests and skills, who yearns to discover what he does best. First, however, he must figure out who stole the king’s dagger, and along the way, he experiences adventure, entertainment, and perhaps a wee bit of romance! Click here for the first episode!

“Carena?” Adon repeated, his eyes wide. “Why are you bringing your sister?”

Lorens crossed his arms as he leaned back in his chair. “Just yesterday, my father insisted I take her with me. She is nearly twenty, and she has got it into her head that she will never marry because none of the noblemen here catches her fancy. According to the king, she wants to see if the Satelen royal court has more interesting suitors for her hand.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Adon asked. “Pardon my saying so, but I hear your sister is a handful.”

Lorens sighed, sitting forward and placing his elbows on his knees, grasping his head between his hands. “More than two hands full, I daresay! I fear we’ll spend more time looking after her than completing our mission. I tried to argue that with my father, but he was adamant. He says if we can marry her to a Satelen nobleman, especially one of high rank, or perhaps even a royal cousin or nephew, the marriage could tighten our ties with Satele.”

“Again, pardon my frankness, but that sounds a bit too coldly dynastic for my taste. Almost like selling her to the highest bidder, no matter how headstrong she is.”

The prince rubbed his face. “I know. I made the same comment to my father, but he just shrugged and said, ‘A king must pounce upon such opportunities when they arise.’ I’m sure my grandfather would not have agreed, but I dare not bring that up to my father. Uncle, pull me aside if I ever begin to think so callously about my children.”

After a long minute of silence, Adon said, “Are we floating down the White to Kingsport and catching a ship there?”

Lorens nodded, happy the subject had changed. “We’ll take the smallest of the royal vessels, the Kestrel.”

Adon smiled, sipping the last of his wine. “I know it well! A fast, nimble ship! I will enjoy being aboard her.”

A loud rap on the door startled them both, and Adon rose to answer it. A member of the Palace Guard stood at attention outside and saluted as soon as the door swung open. “Excuse me, Prince Lorens, but the king has fainted and fallen. Guardsmen have carried him to his room. The physician has been called.”

“I will be there momentarily,” the prince said, dismissing the soldier. He rose from his chair as his cousin shut the door. “Adon, come with me. I have a secret to show you that may prove useful in times to come.”

He strode to the other end of the room, where another door, which Adon had always assumed was a closet, stood in the far wall. Opening it, the prince revealed a tightly curving iron staircase that spiraled upward into the darkness. He immediately began to climb, his rapid footfalls clanging on the metal treads, and Adon followed, adding to the din. They ascended what seemed like three or four stories before topping out in a narrow room, into which speared two thin rays of light from tiny holes in the right-hand wall. It was enough to make out the outline of a door before them.

Try The Beacon, the heroic story of a crew of adventurers who have never faced a crisis quite like this. What people see as massive “waves,” “bubbles,” or “distortions” are traveling across the land, inciting acts of foolishness, selfishness, and pure evil. The king calls on his problem-solver, Adonis Santinetta, to investigate the phenomenon and restore tranquility to Margonne. Meanwhile, signs of rebellion begin to trouble the kingdom, raising the specter of civil war. Click here for the first episode!

“Behind this door is a closet in the king’s study in the royal suite,” Lorens explained, whispering. “We should be able to arrive unseen.” Once in the closet, the prince put his eye to a peephole, confirming the study was empty before entering. The study door hung open, and once through it, they stood in the suite’s foyer, appearing as though they had quietly arrived from the outside hallway. The few who were attending the king noticed nothing of their entrance until Lorens entered the king’s bedchamber.

Aldons lay awake, propped up by a few pillows, looking more embarrassed than ill. Lorens hurried to his bedside and knelt down. “You gave us a scare, Father,” he said, his voice calm and quiet. “What happened?”

The king flashed a tired smile. “I’m afraid I don’t know,” he said with an apology in his eyes. “I was walking here from dinner. One second, I was upright, and the next, I was looking up into a guard’s worried face, as he was shaking me, saying, ‘Sire, sire!’ Perhaps it was something I ate, or I was overheated.”

Lorens patted his father’s hand. “Well, whatever it was, you seem no worse for it now.” He stood and turned to the Court Physician, who watched from the foot of the bed. “What have you found, Doctor Gensarus?”

The doctor, an older man who had been in his post for nearly forty years, looked grave. “In my experience, these fainting spells, especially in the elderly, often have to do with sluggish blood flow. I took his pulse as soon as I arrived, and it was slower than normal. I thought it weaker, too. Both have returned to normal as of a few minutes ago. Sometimes, that happens with older individuals about an hour after eating, but the king is only fifty-one. It could be a sign of a more serious heart issue, but I cannot make a diagnosis from a single fainting spell—and certainly not without a more thorough examination.”

The prince nodded. “Of course. Do you believe tonight’s fall is connected to his recent general weakness?”

“I would be a fool not to suspect a link,” the doctor answered.

“Well, do what you think best to return the king to good health. I was planning a visit to Satele, but I will postpone it until he recovers fully.”

His father’s face darkened as he shook his head. “There’s no need to delay the trip, son. I’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep. You heard Gensarus—things are already back to normal. I just need to rest. Check on me tomorrow and then decide.”

Adon could tell that the prince wanted to argue further, but thought better of it. He bowed to Aldons. “All right, I will continue to plan. I will see you tomorrow. Sleep well, Father. Good night.”

Buy me a coffee?

Share

Please like and leave a comment

A note:

The hill-city of Palisade, the capital of the Kingdom of Margonne, lay in the center of the country. The White River flowed by on its west side, and a vibrant river trade existed between it and the coastal city of Kingsport, about 180 miles almost directly south. Kingsport, strategically located on Osegra’s southern coastline, traded goods with merchants from as far away as Khostan Najid in the east and Aertellan Marchester in the west. It rivaled Satele’s capital, Delphino, as the busiest port city on the continent. In addition, Margonne’s navy called Kingsport its home, patrolling the Great Southern Ocean to keep it clear of pirates and privateers, a traditional responsibility initiated by the kingdom’s first monarch, Margonne Ankara, even before he took the throne in 1014 AL. The royal family kept three vessels docked at Kingsport, Kestrel, and its two larger sisters, Osprey and Seahawk.

Next Episode

If you enjoy what you read on this Substack, please consider buying me a cup of coffee!