The Wayward Prince - Chapter 1 The Prince

In the mids of the prairies where war over territory was prevalent, a general named Tegra built the greatest city in the world and became its first king. Where Tegra maintained order and discipline, his son Rafel was the best diplomat and nourished the city with wealth, markets, diverse inhabitants, schools and whatever advancements scholars and designers proposed.

People here know me as a troublesome vagabond. I am not a vagabond and I don’t cause trouble.

I just duel with newcomers a lot and then make them fulfil a promise they made because of their pride.

Boys and young men show off their fighting skills with wooden swords. I talk with them. My beautiful magnetic presence for a 17-year-old boy provokes a comment or two and I provoke back. We start duelling.

How fun surprising people is.

I dance with my opponent, striking left and right, not letting him react properly. He is full of opening he does not see. He gets furious. His fellows are screaming for blood. He attacks recklessly. While he lunges at me barbarically, I finish the game by striking the toy off his hands.

“So,” I say, cheerfully locking his neck with my arm. “About this beautiful girl you promised a sneak on.”

The area is new and the buildings are fresh out of oven. Ready to house new residents. Perhaps a new group already settled in.

This city is growing so fast.

“There, through that wall,” my new victim directs. “Climb up there. The girl goes to the courtyard to dry after bath. Right about this time.”

I let him go before threatening him not to come here again. My little game lets me know what the youngsters are upto.

Curious, I do climb up the back wall. Low and convenient for sneakers and thieves. And just in time when the girl appears.

She is pretty? For a girl about 12. Her silver-ish hair fall around her pale face and arms. She is busy looking at a hand mirror and doesn’t spot me. This side is well camouflaged by a tree in the courtyard. What in the Traitor’s name? I was expecting someone older and curvaceous who likes to walk around naked. That group sneaked on a little girl in a white underdress.

“Hey!” a voice make me jump.

My eyes frantically look around and stop on a young man standing on the road. Tall and muscled. One look at that violent glare, the silver hair and his sword, I jump down right in the courtyard.

The girl screams as I dash for an exit through the house.

“He’s gone inside.”

“Catch him! He’s that pervert.”

Shouts rise around. Blessedly the kitchen has a door to outside. I come out but more men spot me. I take the opposite turn. This is bad. They are fit and working in an order. Panic rise in me as I predict getting captured soon.

More block all the paths at the intersection. I have stop. Some fifty men surround me. They all are in a uniform clothing. Beige long shirts with brown belt and pants underneath. The silver haired youngster emerges from them. He is dressed in blue and grey, and keeps a better appearance.

“Hold on. It’s a misunderstanding,” I try to explain.

“How dare you look at my sister,” he snaps. “Bastard, I’m going to make an example by castrating you.”

“No need to go that far,” I say.

“Hah! Do you realize what you have done?” a giant man next to him says. He stands out with his darker looks and his leather vest and boots. “This man is Bavin, leader of the famous Steel Brotherhood.”

My heart almost stops. Steel Brotherhood. They are the deadliest band of mercenaries made of youth orphaned by wars. He is no ordinary person, to form such a skilled devoted group within a couple of years.

I stare right at the leader, calculating my situation. Good thing my eyes are big and largely inexpressive, unless I will myself to smile charmingly. I don’t want to look weak. Bavin is powerful and important.

How do I show him?

“And I am Nikelas,” I say, bowing courteously. “My regrets on chancing on your sister like that. It was a misfortunate accident. As I was just inspecting the streets of potential crimes and heard of the mischiefs of some boys sneaking up the wall.”

The band take in my appearance. While my clothes are simple, but to the latest city fashion. With the crisp white shirt tugged inside the black pants. And a red cloth belting the waist. My dark olive hair is well maintained so they fall in smooth waves around my face. Delicate features that come from rich families.

They exchange looks. I can be working for the king.

Bavin snorts. “Your little acts are worthless. Grab a sword and defend yourself.”

A broadsword is tossed in my may.

I pick it up. Stunned.

Bavin charges right in. My hands move instinctively to shield my face. The blades clash. This is no game. I steady myself just when Bavin comes for my right. I see the trick on his heel and raise the blade to left. They clash again. The crowd cheer for their leader.

He is quick for someone wielding an old fashioned broadsword.

After a couple of exchanging blows, I engage him to talk.

“You’re really skilled. This is the first time someone is pushing me back without giving chance.”

“You pay for underestimating me and my group.”

I make myself laugh after barely dodging his attack. I am already exhausting. “You go this far just because I was peeping. Is your ego that big or you’re show no mercy to whoever offends you in the slightest?”

Bavin strikes before standing back. Then says, “I protect the ones I care for. If you’ve tried to harm my men, I’d do the same.”

“I like you, Bavin,” I say. Then the clashing return. “Let’s be good friends. We will be good for each other.”

“Not interested.”

“Well, I don’t intend on dying right now either.” I pull out my short sword from underneath my pant pocket, thinner and sharper, and charge with both blade. Surprised, Bavin goes to defend himself. His band disturb their formation on seeing my trick. I take the advantage for slipping out, threatening with both blades.

“Rod!” Bavin shouts.

The soldiers do not take patrol duties to new areas right away. I turn around to see the giant member, Rod and a few men following me.

I turn to the market-side.

The crowd thickens on the street. The space gets wider. They have to give up now or the guards won’t take it well. But no, I spot them slipping through the crowd. Nearing me.

I slip away to another turn of street. “Stop there!” Rod growls from behind and grabs my arm. A voice stops everyone on their spot.

“Prince Nikelas?”

Before me stands King Tegra’s Minister, Gavon. He is with his attendants and guards. Looking confounded by my situation. On the other hand, Rod and his fellow are standing behind me, pale and dumbfounded. Around people freeze to look at me. Rod looks at the minister then me. Raises a hand and open his mouth wordlessly.

Gavon’s guard spot unshielded swords on their hands and begin to take out their own.

I give the spectators my charming smile and bow my head respectfully at Gavon. “At your service, Minister of the Great Middle. Please excuse our game.”

Gavon relaxes visibly. Both side quickly cover their blades. “You ought to be studying at this hour, my prince. Also, your father is looking for you everywhere. I remember you promised to go survey outland with him.”

“You are kind to remind me.” A thought occurs to me. “Actually, Gavon, I have an idea.”

I turn with a smile and say, “So Rod, I can tell you’re close to Bavin. I have a request for you.”

Despite his initial stupor, Rod raises an eyebrow at me. “I only met him two months ago when he freed my captors. I am no part of the mercenary, I’m a blacksmith. Don’t involve me if you are planning to put him in a difficult situation,” he adds, “prince.”

Gavon is probably frowning at that tone.

“Only two months but you care about him a lot,” I note. “Steel Brotherhood will make appearance before the king soon. Just tell him he is summoned today. Second bell. Don’t tell him of my secret.”

“I don’t understand what is going on,” Gavon says, dismissing his attendants to resume inspection. “Another of your street games, prince? Targeting the strongest mercenary group this time?”

“Come on, you sound like I’m planning something evil.”

Gavon laughs. “May God have mercy on whoever you set your eyes on. Last time you convinced that poor Dewarii general that he is being framed for a serious crime. His reaction was a sight. Best part, he was hiding some slipped gold.”

“Nothing extreme this time, Gavon.”

“You are strange for a prince,” Rod comments, crossing his arm.

“And he is the only son of prince Rafel, an heir to kingship,” Gavon says.

Rod frowns. “Why does your father let you this free?”

“Story for another day,” I reply. Waving a dismissive hand.

Rod doesn’t say anything, but his eyes linger like he senses something wrong. He is the caring type alright.

Bavin walks with his sister, Rod and a few band men to the market. They take their time to move, eyeing the diverse big shops. His sister seems to be fond of clothes. While she is in a simple travel dress and scarf, her looks longingly at what the citizen girls are wearing. Wanting to stop at a dress shop several times.

I appear, waving a hand.

“You again,” Bavin says, glaring as I walk to him.

“You are the peeper!” his sister says. Bavin pulls her back with a hand.

I kneel before her. “Apologies dear lady, such was never my intention. Please allow me to be your guide to this city as a recompense.”

I smile my charming smile. Her eyes sparkles and she giggles. “Alright.”

“Versia,” Bavin says in a warning tone.

“Oh enough, brother,” Versia replies. “You say to follow the prophets’ example then can’t even led slide such a small mistake.”

I chuckle when her brother pouts in defeat.

We resume walking while the group joins me. I ask where they were headed to, although I knew. I want to make a strong impression to the end of their journey.

“King Tegra is not just a general come from Dewarii, he is an architect by heart. A staunch follower of our prophets. The tribes and clans in this part of land shed blood everyday. But when he came here to aid some people, he decided to raise a city like no other before,” I narrate. The whiteness of the buildings, the roads, the castle in distance relaying the story.

“He made his impossible dream come true. And only because all his men have the best discipline. The builders made the city in two decades and the soldiers protected it actively against all attacks.”

“He is very fond of his only Rafel, who joined in his father’s dream. Prince Rafel excels in diplomacy and business. He managed to make friendly ties from the warring people in prairies to the old cities in distant south. He is the reason people from all parts of the world can live here without conflict.”

I turn to face my company. “Do you know this city is designed to house fifteen million people?”

“Fifteen million?” They murmur astonished. The old cities inhabit two million each.

“I know, Great Middle also administers various sectors within and outside,” Versia says. “Like production, trading, knowledge, religion and law. The king has designed the city so one day it will maintain connection to the whole world.”

“That” I stare at her, stunned. “How do you know that?”

“I like to read whenever I get the chance.”

“In that warzone? With a lifestyle like yours?”

She shrugs, but smile proudly.

“One would think you are a scholar from Kitaba,” I say and turn to Bavin. “You should establish her as a scholar. She has a gift for knowing.”

“You know a lot too, for a rogue. Why don’t you follow your own advice and utilize yourself?” He replies.

Rod winces.

“Your grumpiness and anger don’t suit a model figure your men see you as,” I retort back. “One would think you are wrinkly old man chasing out kids from his garden.”

Versia giggles.

We reach the castle outer walls as Bavin and I go on a verbal bout. The castle is beautiful and white. Made on the north-western side of the city. To keep my secret a little longer I lead them to the side borders.

“You should leave now. Or they’ll throw you out,” Bavin says.

“Don’t worry about me.” We ascend the stairs.

Explosion rings in the air.

Chaos of soldier follow. They are running around. Bavin and his men are on alert. He shields Versia behind him. I run further, ignoring him calling me back.

“Prince Nikelas!” Gavon finds me through his men. “Go inside!”

“What’s is going on, Gavon?” I demand, my voice completely changed from before. The Iron Brotherhood stops behind me, gawking at me.

“It’s an attack. Prince Rafel’s is outside countering them when he heard news of an army advancing. We are using canons on the walls.” He explains.

I run further.

Father is out there. The attack is bad enough to shoot canon. More exploding sound follow. I stumble to stop against the wall where the conflict broke out. I see him. Father on his horse. There are not many of the enemy. Then why the canons.

“Prince Nikelas!” Gavon shouts as he catches up.

I see it. At first I mistake it as a shadow of a human. Then a large beasty creature with long black claws rise high and roars. It moves slicing through men like hot iron.

Father does not back away. A canon is shot in the beast’s direction. My ears ring. The two clash. The beast cuts my father’s chest and the horse. He drops down.

I scream.