Chapter One: In which a king makes his final request
A tall man slunk down an unlighted castle corridor. The walls were dank and smelled faintly of moss., but that had to be expected when traveling in an old unused passage in an ancient castle. Attempting not to be seen, Admiral Damian tried not to remind himself of the dangers that troubled this secret excursion, refusing to dwell on the fact that he could be executed right then and there for being out this far past the curfew. Some things were more important than that. He instead tried to formulate an excuse for being up this late for a simple ‘I’m going to see the King on urgent business’ just would not work. That was the catch. Nobody was allowed to see the King, especially at 5 in the morning. If he were to be caught or if Her people were to find out… He must not think that! He could not let it happen! The consequences would be dire.
Finally, he came to a door. He knocked and a voice emerged from within.
“ Damian? Be that you?” asked a deep, familiar voice, which, in Damian’s opinion was far too calm for the situation.
He entered the room, which was decorated sparsely. The stonewalls were draped in a vibrant red-orange colour that, in Damian’s opinion were mockingly cheery. On the floor was tattered oriental rug of a blue-ish gray colour that complimented the drapery nicely. A mellifluous scent wafted from a window that opened to the dreary purple-tinted sky. He recalled hours standing in that very position gazing upon the rolling hills from that window. Those carefree days seemed to him but a reflection, a dream from a happier time. Now he wondered if he ever would be happy again.
“Yes, it is I. What is your plan?” inquired the grim Admiral.
“You know me so well, you would of course. That’s why I chose you.” He paused and Damian could not identify the emotion that flickered across his brother’s face.” Yes, I do have a plan. As you know, our time here is limited. Please do not question what I say. I have arranged for Niccolette to live in, where was it? Ah yes, Russia. I would like for Pim to become your apprentice if you consent, “ he glanced questioningly at Damian who nodded his agreement.” Good. Then all that there is to settle is the twins. You will need provisions for a journey to Lydney, England. It’s just beyond the Forest of Dean. You will take the twins and hide them there. They will be safe. You will do that for us, won’t you?”
“ You seem to be neglecting yourself and the Queen in your plans. Are you suggesting that you GIVE YOURSELF TO THEM! THEY WILL KILL YOU!” Damian shouted, unable to control himself any longer.
“ Ah but that is exactly what I plan to do. We can’t hold out much longer. I am getting old and we are loosing men left and right. I am not prepared to change my mind. Please, just do as I say.” And the old king turned his back on his brother in dismissal.
As Damian left, he thought of the children. Niccolette only 8 and Pim scarcely 4. And the twins! They were barely a year old! Admiral Damian cursed under his breath as he packed for the long journey ahead of him.
~•••••••••••~
“ Ash dear? Would you go and fetch the paper?” Mrs. Silvan, A tall pretty woman with wavy blond hair and green eyes was the mother of two sets of twin boys. Ash and his twin Aspen were 4 and were identical. Rowan and Mahogany, or Momo, were barely 2 but hardly looked alike in any way. Mrs. Silvan and her husband were botanists and named their boys after trees. She always thought that if she had any girls she would name them for flowers.
‘ Ok Mommy! C’mon Aspen! Let’s go! “ Ash and Aspen trotted over to the big mansion doors and worked together to heave them open. They found not a newspaper on the eves but a baby boy in a wooden basket with intricate carvings.
The boy had dark, scruffy, thick black hair and was staring up at them curiously with big gray eyes without making a sound. His tiny fist gently clutched a piece of tightly furled paper tied with hazel green silk ribbon. “ Mommy? Come here! There is a baby outside!” Mrs. Silvan was a ‘no nonsense’ kind of person, walked skeptically over to the boys, clutching a cup of coffee. When she saw the child, she screamed and dropped her mug. The baby started crying into the still morning chill of late January.
Regaining her senses, she scooped the boy into her arms and soothed him. She noticed the scroll of the thin yellowish parchment and read it.
To whom it concerns,
This child is in danger. His parents were the King and Queen of a far off land. They were murdered by a usurping villain. Her followers are after all links to the throne, thus endangering his life. Bringing here into hiding is the safest option. The less he knows of his situation the better he will be.
Please bring him up as your own, not telling anybody of his background. I will return for him on December 18th in 13 years, his 15th birthday. Take care of him ~ Friend of the Crown~
Mrs. Silvan looked at the child. It was astounding, and she could not doubt the sincerity. She noticed that the boy was wearing a black leather cord with a silver leaf pendant inlaid with intricate blue sapphires that sparkled in the morning light. She gasped. Nobody, she concluded other than a prince would afford such an ornate ornament. She slipped the note into her pocket and recounted the story to her husband who had just come downstairs from his laboratory, the morning paper completely forgotten.
How could they know a very similar scene was happening just around the corner to the boy’ s sister?
(To be continued)
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