The Prince of Aragon

CHAPTER THREE: THE UNDEAD

“Come on!” Isla urged when Prince Novak remained glued for a second longer than necessary with the sword still wedged deeply inside the King’s body. “We don’t have much time,” she whispered urgently, already starting to wipe the blood from the floor with an old cloth.

“Carter!” Cameron shook his brother violently, jerking him back to the present. “I need your help to lift him.”

That seemed to snap Prince Novak out of his stupor, and he shook his head in an attempt to clear his fogged mind. “Is he dead?” he asked hoarsely, blinking twice to peek down the body in front of him.

“He looks dead,” Connor infused with his usual sarcasm. “Let’s get to work,” he supplied and started to unwrap the new set of clothes that Alice had sent them.

After that, they all started to work on automaton. With the help of Connor, Isla cleaned the floor checking for the slightest drop of blood, changed the bedsheets, while Carter and Cameron undressed the emperor. When they checked, there was no trace of wound, and his icy body indicated one of a dead man.

One last glance to make sure that the tasks had been executed as planned, they left the room discretely to regain back their own sanctuaries quickly so as not to give rise to suspicions. They all agreed to have a talk in the morning, although they all knew that they won’t be getting one second of sleep.

Connor threw the bloodied clothes down the tower window where Alice Sommerville was waiting, and she picked up the bundle and scurried in the dark towards her home. Nobody noticed the petite woman lighting a fire in her yard at the late hour to burn the evidence.

Back in the castle, Prince Novak paced his room back and forth unable to rest. For the first time, disoriented in the heat of the moment, he’d lost his unwavering focus forgetting to check the most important thing. He hadn’t checked the number of lives gained.

How could he have foregone such a crucial point? In the frenzy of the moment, he’d been so taken up by his revenge that he’d completely missed that. Was it significant though? What was imperative was that the brute Emperor Salvatore was dead, wasn’t it? He wasn’t vested in gaining the man’s power of immortality, he was more interested in making that cruel man pay for his past deeds.

The murderer of his parents - King of Aragon, Juan IV, Sovereign Grand Master of the Celebrated Member of the Golden Sword and Queen Cristina of Aragon, Her Royal Princess of Ravenglass. With a constricted feeling in his chest, he closed his eyes and inexorably felt himself being taken back sixteen years ago.

“What is going on?” he’d asked in a terrified voice of a ten years old, as everybody seemed to be running around the castle corridors in sheer panic, nobody paying any regards to royalty protocol. Which was a first in the Kingdom of Aragon. He’d been on his way towards his parents’ room, to question the King about the unusual activities in the palace.

That was why he made his way towards the Palatial suite, with his wooden horse clenched tightly in his fist.

“Prince Novak!” Earl Allen cried upon seeing him coming from the opposite direction. “Wait up for me! Please wait!” the old man shouted loudly, running to the scared Prince to protectively embrace him.

“Where are my parents? Are they in their chambers? I want to go to them,” Prince Novak complained to the man with tears in his eyes. “What’s going on? I’m scared. Why is everybody running?”

“Come, my Prince,” Earl Allen said in an urgent tone, taking him by the shoulder and leading him towards a small passage. “Let me bring you to safety.”

Prince Novak had followed the man without protest, fear installed in his little heart as he watched the kingdom crumble around him. It was only when he realized that they were going out of the castle that he wrenched his hand free.

“Where are we going?! No!! I want to go to my parents. This is an order. Take me to my father the King right now!” he’d ordered in a regal voice, one that usually brooked no argument.

“Your Highness, please understand that the castle if not safe for you, right now. You cannot go in there.”

“I am not going anywhere unless you answer my questions,” the petulant child had protested in a recalcitrant manner.

The Earl of Preston had sighed defeatedly but been unable to refuse the child. There had been no reasoning the Prince anyway for the latter had not been aware of the stakes. Not surprising since nobody wanted to scare the Prince. How to tell the truth to the little boy without terrifying him even further?

“Your parents are in danger. A powerful enemy is coming to kill everyone in the castle, and the only way to save you is to run from here.”

Prince Novak had started shaking, not with fear but with rage before the Earl had even completed his sentence. “Why can’t we defeat that so-called powerful enemy? Let me join my father on the battlefield and together we will defeat anyone who dares cross the Aragons. How about my Uncles from Ravenglass? Have they been apprised of the enemy’s arrival? If we forge an alliance, I’m quite certain that we will emerge victorious.”

The Prince was not bragging, the two Kingdoms had indeed joined forces in the past to overpower various Kings and Sultans. It was not the first time that Aragon had been facing danger.

“Not this time, my Prince,” Earl Allen had replied ominously, but firmly. “The King returned back to the castle yesterday. In all the years that I’ve been in the service of his Majesty, I’ve never seen him acknowledge defeat, not once. But today, there’s not one single drop of hope left. Not one single. Most of our army is dead, not one soldier remained on the battlefield. The Emperor Salvatore is marching to the castle right now to finish his conquering.”

“But, my Lord, you’re asking me to leave my parents at the mercy of such a ruthless usurper? You want me to flee during this time of affliction? How will I be remembered in the history of Aragon? A bloody coward?”

The Earl had stared at him with great respect and summoned another boy from the running crowd. “Aye, boy! Come here,” he shouted to the dirty lad who looked at both well-groomed with curiosity.

“Aye, Sir,” he replied coarsely. “What can I do for you?” The boy who approached them as if his bones were made of jelly with eyes darkened with fatigue and hunger.

“How old are you, boy?”

“Eleven, milord.”

“Good,” the Earl beamed. “Would you like to earn some coins? Golden ones?” and the boy nodded avidly as Earl Allen fished some coins from his pocket. “Here’s some for now, but we will keep it with the Prince. Let’s play a game, shall we?”

Although not fully aware of the Earl’s plan, Prince Novak had followed through without protest, his only concern for the moment was his parents. In no time, he was dressed as the dirty lad, while the pauper looked immensely pleased at his new attire.

“Look at this fine silk, my Lord. Can I take this with me?” the boy asked enthusiastically. “Boy, don’t I look fine with my hair styled as such?”

“Come, both of you,” the earl ordered harshly refusing to reply, taking both by the arms, thrusting them forward towards the palace entrance. Within miles, he froze in shock. Prince Novak could see why – the enemies were marching inside the castle.

“What’s your name?” the lord asked the little boy in emergency.

“Name’s Carter, milord. Carter Smith.”

To which the Earl nodded with a crisp nod and looked conspiratorially towards the Prince who gulped down the sense of unease with difficulty. As a fair Prince, he was questioning the old man’s actions, but the situation was dire enough for him to comprehend that it was their only way out.

“Come on, Carter,” the Earl urged him, and the pauper dressed as a Prince looked on in surprise.

“But, Sir. That’s my name,” he objected.

“Not anymore. You’re the crown prince for the moment, remember?” the gentleman told him with the most severe frown of his thick eyebrows. “Come, now. Let’s bring you to the King and Queen.”

Carter Smith had no idea what was awaiting him, and neither of them had the time to question their conscience for a dark gloomy figure surged behind them at that precise moment, followed by a trail of soldiers.

“My, my,” the foreboding shadow drawled in a brittle voice. “What do we have here? The prince?” Carter Smith gasped in shock when the horrible face came to light, a prominent scar marking the right side of his entire face.

Prince Novak took a few steps back in the corridor while Earl Allen watched him out of the corner of his eyes.

“Trying to make a heroic escape, aren’t we?” the brute asked with disdain, and a curt nod towards his soldiers snapped them into action where they grabbed both the Earl and the boy whom they believed was the Prince of Aragon.

The real Prince shrunk in fear leaning against a wall, all trace of bravado vanishing in front of such a formidable enemy. He was merely ten years old, barely capable of standing against such a tall man when his own valiant father had already conceded defeat.

Nobody noticed him shivering in a corner as the palatial door opened to a surprised Queen as she spotted another boy dressed as the Prince.

“Sir William, what on earth…?” she’d exclaimed and stopped right in time when the horrible man barged inside with the ease of a dangerous predator. Mama, he’d wanted to cry out, but fear had him paralyzed as he snuggled into a tight corner with a full view of the room.

Watching with apprehension, Prince Novak heard his father’s voice resonate through the palatial suite, although the evil king’s soldiers were blocking his sight.

Queen Cristina spotted him behind the guards, and she moved stealthily to be in his line of vision. Locking eyes with Prince Novak, her ladyship nodded subtly to her son, expressing her approval over the subterfuge.

“What will take to spare the life of my Queen and Prince?” the King begged, and repeated the same question with more humility, addressing them as his wife and son instead. There was a hustle during which Prince Novak couldn’t really see, and he approached furtively only to gag in horror at the horrendous sight.

Two heads rolled across the room, with blood splattered everywhere and the evil emperor looking on with a sycophantic pleasure, as he gazed at his bloodied sword after the double assassination.

Nooo!!! Prince Novak’s stomach churned with a nauseous feeling as he wretched some of his breakfast beside him. His mother’s chopped head with glazed eyes stared at him on the floor, and he whimpered in misery at the helpless feeling which overpowered him. Intervening would only mean getting himself murdered just like his mother and Carter Smith.

That would have been him only seconds ago had Earl Allen not been witty enough for that clever little maneuver.

Tears formed in his eyes when he heard his father cry out in total misery. “What have you done?! What have you done, you monster?”

Uncaring of his own safety, Prince Novak picked up a discarded sword from the ground and was about to intervene when the emperor of nine realms proceeded to cut off his father’s head without even blinking. Shocked and aggrieved, Prince Novak wallowed in trepidation as his father’s head also stumbled across the room, lifeless and speechless.

Traumatized, the sword slipped from his hand as he helplessly watched within seconds as Aldo Salvatore stabbed Earl Allen as well without even flinching. What could he – a boy of ten years old do against such a man? Alone? He despised the feeling of impotence he felt right now, but at the back of his mind, he also registered that his parents had sacrificed their lives right in front of him to give him a new beginning.

Destiny had given him a getaway, an opportunity for revenge, and he had to be strong to combat the need to salvage the impossible.

He never remembered for how long he wandered in the corridors, with no soldiers paying attention to a destitute dirty boy in peasant’s attire. There was bodies and blood everywhere, and Prince Novak felt himself being flung from one place to another without being aware of his surroundings.

Somebody grabbed him, and he faintly registered being among some peasants and farmers whose lives the emperor was sparing because he needed them for building the empire back to its glory.

That was how Prince Novak became a mere peasant. It took him a while to adapt to poor life, but no one suspected that he was the surviving heir of the Kingdom of Aragon. It took great sustenance to pretend to be an ardent follower of the Emperor Salvatore, while deep inside, he buried his desire for vengeance and waited until he had enough ammunition to fight back.

He’d nurtured that feeling of hatred inside him for sixteen long years but had never let that k****e sparkle into anything more. In fear that it might consume him totally. Nightmares had plagued his nights, as he’d relived that dreadful moment that his parents had been assassinated, and never once had he allowed emotions to get the better of him.

Until now. Killing the ruthless emperor had been too fulfilling for his soul, a moment of pure bliss which had assuaged his thirst for revenge. He was prepared for what was coming – after defeating the King, he would conquer back his Kingdom. Although he didn’t have an army, he doubted that his Majesty’s soldiers would remain loyal to him after the latter’s demise.

It had been so easy defeating that tyrant – too easy, he reckoned by staring at the numerous stars in the sky. He’d heard so much about his prowess, about how Aldo Salvatore the son of a mediocre swordsmith had acquired so much power and riches that he was now considered the richest man in the Ohana. An invincible enemy for many believed him to be undead.

Prince Aragon had looked for the key instead of listening to gossips – the source of his power would also be his downfall. So caught up by his victory, he remained fixed in that position until dawn, the first light of sunlight alerting him to the role that he should be emulating.

There would be a shocked discovery, all pretense of course, he rationalized with perverse satisfaction. Even a bit of mourning from his side to keep up the appearances. Nobody would know what was going on, and that would be where he stepped in as the right-hand man. That had been the plan all along, to win that royal competition to replace Shi ni.

Fate had it that his revenge had been accomplished in the very same suite that his parents had been brutally murdered. What a delicious hand that destiny had played. The only way to have managed such a poetic justice was of course to ally himself with the emperor’s common enemies – those who would not hesitate in plotting a murder for that despot.

He even dressed for the occasion and met his conspirators on the way towards the Palatial suite. Isla and the boys glanced at him with a serious expression, acknowledging his achievement with a mere nod. They had been unconvinced that he would manage to defeat their common enemy, and now he could note the respect shining in their eyes.

“We’ve done it, Carter,” Isla smiled at him, her beautiful blue cyan eyes sparkling with hero-worship towards him. “We’ve finally done it.”

Prince Novak felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders, as they marched purposefully towards the main entrance, with new strategies and plans in mind.

Their shock was immeasurable when they came face-to-face with Emperor Salvatore at an intersection of the corridors. The two groups, one side was Prince Novak with his comrades, and the other was Emperor Salvatore and his guards, collided as they reached the same spot, but in opposite directions.