The Bastard Prince

2 Making a deal with the devil.

"He told me no again, my King," Derrick, King Stefan's messenger and adviser said. He paced over to the king's throne until they were close enough the court couldn't hear them. King Stefan loved his court full of all the nobles that lived in Kantarina, especially the rich ones. He wanted them there in his court so he could manipulate them easily. King Stefan thrived on power. And he loved watching them huddling in corners trying by all means to please him. But Derrick didn't like it. He hated that there were many ears listening, and many of them didn't keep the things they heard to themselves.

For instance, many knew of the bastard prince the King insisted on keeping in the army. The boy has survived many things - hunger, beatings, even the grueling training King Stefan's soldiers went through. Derrick even heard them say that he was the best. The soldiers loved him.

And that worried Derrick, because a beloved bastard prince was more powerful than a feared king. But Derrick hadn't brought the matter to King Stefan. If the king did not mind his bastard son climbing up the ranks, who was he to touch the hornet's nest?

He will let sleeping dogs lie for now. He'll wait until it served him to speak.

"Marinne, said no again?" the King asked, his eyes going to the ever-present eyes and ears of the court. Derrick gave himself a pat on the back. He was right to step closer. The king clearly didn't want anyone to know about this business. It was embarrassing that the Duke of Marinne had rejected the King's proposal yet again.

“He thinks his daughter being married to my son, my heir, is something to sneeze at?" the King asked, his face turning red.

"Apparently, his daughter is already betrothed. She is promised to another," Derrick whispered.

"Who?"

"Another prince. He's from the Killengly Isles."

"Betrothed, huh?"

"Yes, your majesty. The duke is holding a banquet in three days to celebrate the union. Your invitation arrived today."

King Stefan turned to Derrick thoughtfully.

"The insult," he sneered, getting to his feet. "He thinks to insult me by inviting me to his daughter's betrothal while he knows I want his daughter for my son, Phillip," the King asked as the sneer on his face turned into a wicked smile. "Bring me my dog of a son. I want to speak with him." King Stefan said, walking away.

.......................................................................................................................................................

"You bring her food every time and I told you not to," the Dungeon Master said, looking distraught. Karic knew he wasn't a cruel man, but his job forced him to be.

"She is my mother and I want to be a good son to her. I want her to be healthy and live a better life."

"Oh my boy," the Dungeon Master clicked his tongue, his face pulling into a mask of sympathy, "you are killing her. She is a slave, and not your mother. Don't give her hope it will kill her."

Karic stared at the food in his hands. It wasn't much - just a few slices of bread and cheese and some meat. Tears filled his eyes because he couldn't provide his mother with the simplest things. He wanted to offer her the world. But if you couldn't do this, how was he going to give her everything.

Karic nodded to the Dungeon Master and turned to leave.

"Leave the food there," he said in a sad tone. "Don't do it again."

Karic swallowed the smile that immediately bloomed on his face.

She will know that I was here, he thought.

"I won't," he said, dropping the food on the table the Dungeon Master indicated. Even though he promised not to do it again, he knew that the next day he would bring some more food. He couldn't help it. She was his mother. And not a slave. She was the only parent who cared about him. Karic left the dungeons feeling pleased.

He hoped that the feeling would last for a while. But it diminished as soon as he stepped towards the soldiers' training area. There, next to the gate stood the weasel the King called messenger and adviser.

Karic ignored him and walked through the gate that only allowed soldiers to pass.

"High and Mighty you are, bastard," Derrick said, stopping Karic with his hateful words.

Karic stopped, pain lashing through him. He didn't know why he cared what people or his half brothers thought of him. He was the King's bastard. It was no secret. But still it hurt him to be called that name.

"The king wants to see you, don't keep him waiting," Derrick said, spitting on the ground. "I wonder why he wants to see the likes of you. I am disgusted just staring at you.”

Derek walked away, leaving Karic to stew in his anger.

Karic clenched his jaw, praying for the day he could kill him.

He knew that day will come. It was only a matter of time.

He turned away from the gate and made his way to the castle to see the King.

Karic found the King in his chambers. Heavy drapes were drawn over the windows, making the room darker than it should be. The room was decorated with the best furniture and the most expensive silks. A gold inlaid chair sat in front of the fireplace. It resembled the one the King sat on in the throne room. Karic stared at it, wondering why he would need something like that in his room. The King walked to the chair and sat down. He looked as foreboding as he did when he sat on his throne.

“Tell me, what do you want most in life,” the King asked.

“My mother,” the words tumbled out of Karic's mouth before he could stop them. He remembered the stable Master's words too late. King Stefan stared at him making him uncomfortable.

"You will do anything for her?”

“No... I ... I don't care about her," Karic said, trying to deflect. " I thought you meant the things that are around me. She's nothing."

"Don't lie to your king. You don't know if he will grant you your deepest wish. I have the power to grant your wish. For a price, of course."

Karic stared at the King, not sure what to believe. But the thought of having his mother was too enticing.

"What do you mean?"

“I mean I have a preposition for you," the king said, standing up. "The Commander told me you have talent. And I want to use that talent. "

Karic didn't know what the King was talking about. Yes, he had the ability to sneak on people without them being aware and find ways into places he shouldn't be. But he wouldn't call it a talent.

He was just sneaky, and loved to learn about people - especially learn about the things they hide away from others.

He even found a way into the King's chambers. He thought about killing him while he slept, but the thought of Philip becoming the next King scared him. Phillip was meaner than his father. And he hated him far more than his father did.

"What is the preposition?" Karic asked cautiously.

"I need you to kill a prince who is betrothed to the daughter of the Duke of Marinne. You do that... And I'll free your mother."

Karic's heart thudded in his chest as hopes surged to life within him.

"When?"

"There is going to be a banquet in three days. I am invited, but I will be sending Phillip and his brothers. Derrick we'll go too. He will point out the prince to you." the King stepped closer to him. His voice was low and menacing. "You make it clean, no one must suspect anything. And when you return, I will give you your mother."

"Just like that?" Karic asked, not sure he could trust him.

"I am many things, but a liar is not one of them. Do we have a deal?"

Karic chewed on his bottom lip thinking. She was dead either way, he thought. But maybe he could save her by making a deal with the devil.

"Deal," he said.