Chapter VI
Rule #6: Slavery is forbidden in the Crooked Court
Prince Kaine sat on his bed, staring at the note in his hand. It had been slipped between his towels by one of the slaves that morning. At first, he had thought that they had dropped it by mistake, but when he picked it up, he saw it had his name on it. Or, rather, he thought it was his name. The handwriting was so cramped together it was hard to tell. What was written inside was just as hard to decipher, and even harder to believe.
“Crown Prince Kaine,
For many years, our country has toiled under the harsh rule of your father. My only goal is to correct the injustices done to the good people of Intyal. My only request is your help. If you are willing to simply hear me out, I would like to meet with you. Three days from when you receive this note, I will post one of my messengers outside the East Palace Gate. They will lead you to my meeting house. If you do not show up, I will understand."
It wasn’t signed.
Kaine wasn’t a fool. He knew that this was probably some sort of trick, maybe to kidnap him for ransom or use him as an excuse to start a civil war. He knew that many nobles were unhappy with how the country was being run, and her would be surprised if one—or more—of them were interested in putting him on the throne as their royal puppet. But his note didn’t seem like it would be from one of them. For one thing, the handwriting was atrocious. Any noble would have much more legible handwriting. For another, the note was straight-forward enough, without any of the dancing-around he came across when a noble wanted something from him. This writer was clearly stated that he wanted something—help—from Kaine. Still, going to meet this person would undoubtedly be dangerous…
Kaine sighed, crumpling the note in his hand. At least he had three days to think on it.
~*~
Bryant kicked back in his chair, surveying his people with a smile. Things were getting started, and he was pleased with how smoothly they had. The hardest part was still to come—and it would be hard—but he was well prepared. He had planned for everything.
Just as Bry watched his subjects, Susan and Ati watched Bry. Ati had shared her concerns with Susan earlier. Both agreed that whatever Bry was planning wasn’t going to make life easier, and they certainly didn’t want life harder.
“…He’s looking awfully smug,” Susan commented, trying to sound casual.
Ati nodded. “That’s what has me worried. All I can hope is that his plan won’t be so drastically big.”
Lan glanced over at the Crooked King. “Bry always plans big,” He reminded them. “Always.”
~*~
Kaine discovered, as he stood at the East Palace Gate three days later, that three days wasn’t very long to make a decision to possibly walk into the hands of someone who might want to kill him. He had finally decided to wear a disguise, in hopes that if he saw his guide first, he would be able to escape if it was someone he knew harbored a grudge against his father. Then he realized that few people didn’t harbor a grudge against his father. He decided to keep his disguise anyway, figuring it wouldn’t be good to be recognized outside the palace by himself.
It wasn’t much of a disguise, though. He didn’t have any plain clothes, so he had to borrow a plain, loose shirt and rough breeches from the washroom. Figuring that wouldn’t be enough, he pulled his hair back into a simple, low ponytail that the citymen favored, rather than the elaborate waves worn at the royal court. As he couldn’t think of anything else without being obvious, he had to hope that this would be enough.
Kaine took a deep breath and strode towards the gate, fully intending to order his way through if he had to. It turned out that he didn’t have to, as he got swept up into a group of servants leaving the palace. Stuck in their midst, the gatekeeper didn’t even notice him and ushered them all through.
It took Kaine a bit of effort to free himself from the group, but he managed it, only to get caught up in the crowds of people bustling up and down the street. The crowd pulled him one way and pushed him another as people shoved past him, yelling and cursing him for being in the way. Kaine spun around, confused and more than a little disoriented. He had never been in the middle of so many people, and he had gotten so turned around he couldn’t figure out where the palace wall was. Then he spun around, bumping into a woman with a basket. She shouted something angry at him—the exact words were lost in the noise of the street—and walloped him with her basket. The blow sent him stumbling out the other side of the crowd and into the wall of a near by building. Kaine took a relieved breath as he looked across the street, then groaned. He was clear across the street from the palace. What if his guide couldn’t find him?
He certainly didn’t want to enter that chaos again, so he had to hope that whoever his guide was would find him. Though he had noticed that no one in the crowd had recognized him, so it seemed his disguise worked. Which brought a new fear: Would his guide even recognize him?
Then, a young boy with dark hair and dark eyes slipped over to him. The boy looked so solemn that Kaine wasn’t sure what he wanted. When he reached Kaine, the boy touched his forelock in recognition and respect. It appeared that this boy was his guide.
Just as Kaine was deciding whether to be insulted or not, the boy turned and trotted off down a narrow side street, and Kaine had to hurry not to be left behind. There would be time to be insulted later.
Prince Kaine sat on his bed, staring at the note in his hand. It had been slipped between his towels by one of the slaves that morning. At first, he had thought that they had dropped it by mistake, but when he picked it up, he saw it had his name on it. Or, rather, he thought it was his name. The handwriting was so cramped together it was hard to tell. What was written inside was just as hard to decipher, and even harder to believe.
“Crown Prince Kaine,
For many years, our country has toiled under the harsh rule of your father. My only goal is to correct the injustices done to the good people of Intyal. My only request is your help. If you are willing to simply hear me out, I would like to meet with you. Three days from when you receive this note, I will post one of my messengers outside the East Palace Gate. They will lead you to my meeting house. If you do not show up, I will understand."
It wasn’t signed.
Kaine wasn’t a fool. He knew that this was probably some sort of trick, maybe to kidnap him for ransom or use him as an excuse to start a civil war. He knew that many nobles were unhappy with how the country was being run, and her would be surprised if one—or more—of them were interested in putting him on the throne as their royal puppet. But his note didn’t seem like it would be from one of them. For one thing, the handwriting was atrocious. Any noble would have much more legible handwriting. For another, the note was straight-forward enough, without any of the dancing-around he came across when a noble wanted something from him. This writer was clearly stated that he wanted something—help—from Kaine. Still, going to meet this person would undoubtedly be dangerous…
Kaine sighed, crumpling the note in his hand. At least he had three days to think on it.
~*~
Bryant kicked back in his chair, surveying his people with a smile. Things were getting started, and he was pleased with how smoothly they had. The hardest part was still to come—and it would be hard—but he was well prepared. He had planned for everything.
Just as Bry watched his subjects, Susan and Ati watched Bry. Ati had shared her concerns with Susan earlier. Both agreed that whatever Bry was planning wasn’t going to make life easier, and they certainly didn’t want life harder.
“…He’s looking awfully smug,” Susan commented, trying to sound casual.
Ati nodded. “That’s what has me worried. All I can hope is that his plan won’t be so drastically big.”
Lan glanced over at the Crooked King. “Bry always plans big,” He reminded them. “Always.”
~*~
Kaine discovered, as he stood at the East Palace Gate three days later, that three days wasn’t very long to make a decision to possibly walk into the hands of someone who might want to kill him. He had finally decided to wear a disguise, in hopes that if he saw his guide first, he would be able to escape if it was someone he knew harbored a grudge against his father. Then he realized that few people didn’t harbor a grudge against his father. He decided to keep his disguise anyway, figuring it wouldn’t be good to be recognized outside the palace by himself.
It wasn’t much of a disguise, though. He didn’t have any plain clothes, so he had to borrow a plain, loose shirt and rough breeches from the washroom. Figuring that wouldn’t be enough, he pulled his hair back into a simple, low ponytail that the citymen favored, rather than the elaborate waves worn at the royal court. As he couldn’t think of anything else without being obvious, he had to hope that this would be enough.
Kaine took a deep breath and strode towards the gate, fully intending to order his way through if he had to. It turned out that he didn’t have to, as he got swept up into a group of servants leaving the palace. Stuck in their midst, the gatekeeper didn’t even notice him and ushered them all through.
It took Kaine a bit of effort to free himself from the group, but he managed it, only to get caught up in the crowds of people bustling up and down the street. The crowd pulled him one way and pushed him another as people shoved past him, yelling and cursing him for being in the way. Kaine spun around, confused and more than a little disoriented. He had never been in the middle of so many people, and he had gotten so turned around he couldn’t figure out where the palace wall was. Then he spun around, bumping into a woman with a basket. She shouted something angry at him—the exact words were lost in the noise of the street—and walloped him with her basket. The blow sent him stumbling out the other side of the crowd and into the wall of a near by building. Kaine took a relieved breath as he looked across the street, then groaned. He was clear across the street from the palace. What if his guide couldn’t find him?
He certainly didn’t want to enter that chaos again, so he had to hope that whoever his guide was would find him. Though he had noticed that no one in the crowd had recognized him, so it seemed his disguise worked. Which brought a new fear: Would his guide even recognize him?
Then, a young boy with dark hair and dark eyes slipped over to him. The boy looked so solemn that Kaine wasn’t sure what he wanted. When he reached Kaine, the boy touched his forelock in recognition and respect. It appeared that this boy was his guide.
Just as Kaine was deciding whether to be insulted or not, the boy turned and trotted off down a narrow side street, and Kaine had to hurry not to be left behind. There would be time to be insulted later.