The Waking Prince

The Waking Prince

By

Jesse Dixon

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2014 by Jesse Dixon

All Rights Reserved.

Chapter One

Ice gathered on the window of Victoria’s room as the winter wind sang its lonely song. This was the coldest season the Oakland Hills had seen in a century. Finally, Victoria’s waiting was at an end. A handful of women crowded the big room and a small group of men waited apprehensively outside the door. Her forth child was almost ready to enter the world outside of her protective womb. The men heard approaching footsteps on the other side and all jumped to their feet to receive the news. An older woman opened the door and exclaimed to the father, Congratulations Peter! You have another son, just as I said you would. All the men congratulated the father and shook his hand.

Let's see him then. He sternly and eagerly said, Relax. He isn’t going anywhere. the woman replied cheerfully. The father walked into the room, leaving the rest of the men to wait at the closed door. As he approached his wife, Victoria, he could see sweat dripping from her pale face, and a smile slowly coming into her expression. In her arms, she cradled their newest treasure. As he leaned over to kiss his son, she whispered.

You'd think I'd be used to this by now. But Marion here made me work just as hard as the others. She said referring to their newborn. Peter could not take his eyes off of his son whose face was radiating the serenity of being at his mother's side. When he opened his blue eyes, he seemed fascinated by the world around him, quietly observing all of the new sights and sounds. Peter noticed Marion was wearing one of his mother's favorite necklaces. It was an ordinary silver chain with a simple but marvelous blue stone the size of an almond as its ornament.

Your favorite piece. Peter observed, as he pointed to the necklace around Marion's neck. A bit young for jewelry, don't you think? He mentioned.

I know. I just felt like he should have it. She replied. Peter had found that stone when he was still a teenager and had given it to Victoria on a necklace as an engagement gift. It reminds me of how much you love me. Now I want it to remind Marion of how much I love him. She offered. Besides, I no longer need a reminder. She added. Peter reached over and took the stone in his hand, feeling its flawless, smooth surface with his fingers. He leaned over to Marion and whispered in his ear.

No one could love you more. Marion looked at Peter like he understood every word they had been saying. He then began making short cooing sounds as if he wanted something. Victoria instinctively held him close to her chest.

I think he's hungry. She told Peter.

Yet he doesn't cry. Peter casually said. Victoria sat up and began breastfeeding him.

Yes, he was definitely hungry. Victoria confirmed as Marion enthusiastically received his first meal.

Who would have thought that- Peter paused and motioned for the midwife and all the maids to leave the room. As soon as they were gone, he resumed.

We could still have a child after all this time.

I'm not that old. Victoria exclaimed with raised eyebrows.

You're not that young either. Peter commented with a light laugh.

I'm sure he's going to follow in your foot steps. After all, our other children have taken the wise choice and followed in mine. Victoria said sarcastically.

Bravo. Peter remarked. Peter and Victoria had already produced three other children before Marion. They were all responsible and well-developed children, however all of them had inherited their mother's love for artistic complexities rather than their father's passion for military work. Peter loved his children more than life but had always maintained the hope that one day he would bring a child into the world who would take after his own ambitions and study the ways of war and eventually seek a career in the royal forces. Such was Peter's hope, but only time could tell. Victoria spoke to him softly,

Do not worry, he will be what ever he was meant to be.

That's all I can ask for. Peter replied and then kissed her on the forehead.

Don't you think we should let the children see him? Victoria suggested.

Honestly, I almost forgot. Peter said,

Sarah, send for our children please. Victoria called to the midwife outside the door.

At once m’lady. Came the reply. A few minutes later, Marion’s older siblings walked into the room, all of them anxious to see their new brother. They all gazed at him in awe of something so innocent.

What is his name? Joseph asked.

His name is Marion. Victoria replied. Joseph was the youngest of Marion's siblings and had inherited his mother's amazing talent to translate feelings into something visual such as drawings and paintings. Being ten years old, he had not yet learned to control that talent, but it was becoming obvious that he would be a magnificent artist as he grew. Jarris was Marion's oldest brother. At only eleven years old, he was almost as big as Peter. It was sometimes hard for other people to tell, but Peter and Victoria could tell that Jarris was taking a profound interest in politics and government. Rachel was the oldest of the three. At seventeen she was easily just as; if not more beautiful than Victoria. She was just now beginning to enter into womanhood and Peter swore that if every young man who came to call on her were in his army, he could conquer the entire world in less than a month.

Meanwhile downstairs, Peter's small group of friends was waiting for him to return. They all sprang from their seats when they heard him coming down the stairs. General Dorian Nichola was the first to rush to Peter and ask about the child.

Marion is in fine health and Vic is recovering nicely. Peter declared. Dorian took Peter's hand in congratulations.

Well done my friend. I would say the real adventure of raising him is yet to come, but I believe you and Vic have this down to a science by now.

I’m sure Marion will find some way to keep things interesting. The others did. Peter replied.

They all made their way to the study to sit and talk for a while.

Tell me Peter, said General Ulias Dawz as he put his wine glass down. Do you and Vic think you’ll be having anymore little ones, or is Marion to be the last?

He is most likely the last one. But who am I to say?

I suppose you'll be telling us that about a year from now during the next delivery. Laughed General Anthony Gatewood.

Don’t blame me. Honestly, what can I say? Vic can be devilishly unpredictable at times. Some days she just wants to show affection. Others it seems like she's trying to conceive all of our future children at once. Peter answered slyly.

Just then Peter's oldest and most trusted maid, Sarah came downstairs and into the study.

Victoria has instructed me to remind you not to be making any lewd comments about her since it seems to be your habit when these gentlemen are over. Peter rolled his eyes and replied.

Real gentleman don’t make lewd comments, Sarah.

Quite right. Anthony chimed in. As military men, we simply tend to give more in depth explanations of things, you know.

As past evidence has overwhelmingly proven. Sarah retorted. Peter replied with a mischievous grin.

Don’t think I am unaware of some of the things the ladies jabber on about when they think the men fold aren’t listening. I’d say it all evens out. Sarah just shook her head suppressed a grin before turning to go back to Vic’s room.

"So who does he favor? Anthony wondered. Peter replied,

He’s right down the middle. He has Vic’s cheeks and my chin, my ears and her hair; but his eyes. Now there’s a marvel, for you. I’ve never seen anything quite like them.

Do tell. Dorian insisted.

Deeper than the ocean. Peter explained. He’s barely minutes old, and when he looks at me, I feel he’s reading me like a book.

Anyone could read you like a book. Anthony chided, producing laughter from everyone save for Dorian, who seemed more interested in Peter’s description of his son. Vic can read you like a book without even being in the room. He added.

Whose side on you on, anyway? Peter snapped.

If he takes after his mother it won't come as much of a surprise when he starts reciting poetry and making painting masterpieces before he’s five years old. Ulias Dawz mentioned.

And if he takes after you he'll be commanding divisions and liberating nations before he sees twenty. Anthony complimented.

As usual Antho, your flattery is just as well placed as it is accurate. Peter accepted.

Then again. Dorian put in getting everyone's attention.

There's the chance he may not take after either of you.

I guess we’ll have to wait and see. Anthony said solemnly.

I’m looking forward to it. Peter muttered to himself. It was one in the morning when most of the men had retired to their respective guest rooms for the night. The weather was too brutal to risk riding home during the dark hours. Dorian obliged himself to smoke his pipe for a bit outside their front door, before turning in. Peter joined him at length.

It’s not natural, you know; the way you and Vic so dearly love the cold. Peter mentioned, as he walked outside wearing the thickest coat he could find.

Nowhere near as unnatural as this. Dorian replied, staring out into the cold darkness of the night.

As what? Peter inquired.

Listen. Dorian told him. The first thing Peter noticed was that the wind has died down substantially; nothing too unusual there. But then he picked up what Dorian must have been talking about. The birds were awake and very softly singing. Even more noticeable was that their long and drawn out whistles seemed to be carrying some kind of tune…and it was as gorgeous as it was heartwarming. Starting and maintaining a high note, other birds would join in to harmonize with another lower note and a third would provide a third harmony to form a trio. This chorus played out for several repetitions. Had Dorian not mentioned it, Peter would likely have never noticed. But now that he knew what to listen for, it couldn’t be ignored.

What kind of phenomenon is this? Peter wondered out loud.

One I’ve never heard of before. Dorian answered. Once the birds finished their final round of the melody, the wind returned rather suddenly, once again bringing the bitter cold to bear. As the two men adjourned back inside again, they saw Sarah coming down the stairs.

What a lively one he is. Vic only just got him to sleep. She remarked with a grin.

Only just now? Peter confirmed offhandedly.

Yes. He’s just been looking all around and smiling this whole time. Then I guess his breakfast caught up with him and he drifted off to sleep rather quickly. The first day can be a tiring one. Sarah lectured, even though Peter knew full well the behavior of newborns. Dorian just gave Peter his usual inquisitive look which clearly meant there was something interesting going on here.

Looks like he’s not taking after either of you already. He casually assumed.

Peter and Victoria Kincaid lived in a heavily wooded area of the country Galdaria, called the Oakland Hills. It was a fairly large and scenically beautiful portion of land. It was made so appealing by the oak trees of all sizes and colors, which covered nearly every square mile of its rolling hills. Any decent rider on a fresh horse could go from one end to the other in a little over a two days. The striking beauty of the place was just perfect for Victoria and her deep seeded love of breathtaking sights. And since it was perfect for Victoria it was perfect for Peter.

Once a year all the commanding generals who served the king of Galdaria, were required to report to him on their military condition and provide any information that needed to be brought to light. During the next couple weeks, Peter, Dorian, and a handful of other generals across the country, were all very busy preparing for the journey to the capital. Peter would be making the journey for the eighteenth time in his career. He planned on making it only three more before his retirement from the military.

Dorian was also making the trip for the eighteenth time and as far as he was concerned, would continue making it until he was too old to mount a horse.

Peter was in his room packing up some of his belongings when Victoria came in and asked him, You still enjoy this life don't you?

How much I enjoy it is negated by how much I hate leaving you behind. And you know full well how fickle this life can be. What I enjoyed yesterday may not be so pleasant tomorrow. He replied with a heavy tone.

Do you enjoy it today?

I'll be glad to see Callahigh. Peter said, referring to his adjutant in training. But three more years is all I can handle. I have more pressing responsibilities here. He told her.

You're not obligated to give up what you love on my account. Vic reminded him. I know how much pleasure you take in your job.

What I truly love is right here. He promised, as he turned to face her.

I'm sorry I have to leave you so soon after Marion arrived. He offered. Victoria understood.

When will you be leaving? She asked.

Before dawn tomorrow. He told her. She came up to him and put her arms around his neck and looked into his eyes with a serious expression.

Promise me you'll be careful. She said almost pleadingly.

I've made that promise seventeen times now. It still stands for the next trip. He said.

That's right. She agreed. And you’re due for another one right about now. Not that it'll stop you from getting into trouble somehow, I'm sure.

I said I would be careful, I never said I wouldn't get into to trouble. Peter retorted.

Then promise me you'll be careful not to get into trouble. She responded with a sly grin on her face. Peter laughed and wrapped his arms around her once again slim waist, taking care not to squeeze her too firmly.

Perhaps you should be a politician Vic. He told her. Victoria hated politics with a passion, but before she could take offense, Peter pulled her close pressed his lips against hers. She glared at him when they came apart.

I promise. Peter said speaking the defusing words.

On the mountain range that marked the western border of the Oakland Hills, Dorian stood outside of the house he shared with his sister. The sun had almost gone down, and Dorian was mounting his horse, getting ready to ride off when his sister walked out to see him off.

Surely you weren't leaving without telling me goodbye. She said mockingly.

I haven’t left yet. He said confidently.

Do you ever plan on wearing that robe Victoria gave you? She asked, bringing up a seemingly irrelevant topic.

I’m sure I’ll find some use for it one day. Dorian answered.

She made Peter one to match, you know. She added.

Yes, I’m quite aware of that. Dorian replied, knowing where this was most likely going.

You tend to feel the cold a little more, the older you get. She casually suggested.

You don’t say. Dorian dryly came back. Peter could feel cold at high noon in the deserts of Belderan. He mentioned.

Eighteen years, it’s been. Peter is reaching the age where retiring seems fairly prudent. She mentioned as casually as possible. There is was. So I’ve heard, anyway. She threw in for added tact.

Don’t count on it. He replied.

Count on what? She asked innocently.

On me joining him. Dorian clarified.

I never said that. She defended.

You didn’t have to. Dorian assured her with an incredibly rare smile. You’re about as good of a liar as Mother was. He added.

And you’re about as tactful as Father was. She retorted. You simply must find yourself a woman to teach you these things and convince you to get out of the military life before it kills you. She lectured him.

This coming from someone just as unmarried as I am. Dorian countered. Besides, we all have to die of something. He added.

Which is likely to be my hands around your throat, one of these days. Eniya shot back. Dorian laughed, something even more rare than his smile.

That’s no way to get a point across. You simply must find yourself a man to teach you these things. He came back. Eniya rolled her eyes and gave his horse a firm slap on the backside causing him to take off down the road. She heard Dorian’s laughter as he sped away into the twilight. Such was their brother to sister affection, just as it had been since they were children.

Dorian rode hard all night long and stopped just before dawn to set up camp and rest himself and his horse. He was on his way to meet Peter and a few other friends so they could make the journey together. Each man was more than capable of taking care of themselves, but saw no reason to take unnecessary chances. The next night Dorian set out again. He paused periodically to rest, since he would most likely be riding all day tomorrow. Finally, all of them met less than a day later on the northern border of the Oakland Hills. Dorian was then joined by Peter, Anthony Gatewood, and Ulias Dawz.

General Anthony Gatewood was certainly the main source of quick wit and humor. In a situation that demanded negotiation, Anthony was the first choice to do the talking. He could take the most complex notion and twist it around in all directions until it sounded logical, or vice versa. Deadly in an argument, cunning in a fight, Anthony's best weapon was words. Not so much his own, but the words of his enemy. His riposte with conversation was unmatched by any of the finest speakers in the courts or the brightest poets of the age.

General Ulias Dawz could be described as a jolly sort of man. He never liked to start fights but wouldn't hesitate to finish one. He sincerely enjoyed parties, food, music and dancing and never missed the opportunity for a friendly competition.

Peter and Dorian had been the best of friends since they were teenagers. When they were both fifteen, they went to the same military school in the Kinglands of Vilisar. At first they were vicious rivals. Neither one of them would shy away from the opportunity to gain the upper hand or get higher marks than the other. But eventually, the two young men found respect for each other when they realized that as long as they worked together, they were unbeatable. Once they had built a friendship, they both decided to remain on good terms after they graduated. This was in rough times however, considering that General Donriose Phillian, one of the most gifted tacticians of his time, had begun a bloody campaign against the king of Soloria. At the time the Solorian King, Victor Collendale's, army was well supplied, but unorganized and all attempts to fight back were unsuccessful. Eventually, Collendale, his army, and all of his people surrendered to Phillian’s overpowering brilliance in tactics, and his numerical superiority.

It was not until a month later when Dorian and Peter graduated, that Collendale would regain his lost lands. For as soon as they received their commission, they were given an assignment from Jairathyn Lorec, the king of Galdaria, to drive Phillian out of Soloria. Being young and naïve to just how sinister a Phillian could be, neither of them understood what a daunting task lied ahead of them. Peter and Dorian had access to all the troops and supplies Galdaria had to offer. But this meant nothing against a strategic genius like Phillian. But contrary to the expectations of all looking on, Peter and Dorian did not shy away from their duty in the slightest. Instead, they challenged Phillian head on and eventually gained a foothold in the capital city. Within six months, Phillian’s Beldan troops had been driven so far back, the Solorians were able to start providing assistance and by the end of the year, Phillian had been expelled from the nation entirely.

Collendale offered them anything he could give them in return for their help. They requested only that the he learn from his past mistakes and remember how easily Phillian had overrun him. Touched by their unselfish requests, Collendale pledged that he was Galdaria’s debt and would someday repay them by any means he could. Ever since those days, Peter and Dorian had found themselves commanding and sometimes fighting side by side in over three-dozen wars and conflicts, each one bringing them a bit closer together.

Those were days of youthful energy and action, when nothing could stand in their way and the world seemed to be theirs for the taking. But much had changed since the two of them had increased in age and rank. As the size of Peter's family continued to grow, his eagerness to jump head first, into every fight he could find, had lessened significantly. He performed only the minimally required duties until it was time to retire. Dorian on the other hand would probably never retire, at least, not until that appointed day on the battlefield when his time finally came. The two of them always joked that Peter would meet his end while playing outdoor games with his grandchildren and that Dorian would meet his while fighting someone else's grandchildren.

The four men greatly enjoyed each other's company and though they had little to catch up on, it made the ride ahead of them a little easier to deal with. None of them had anything of great importance to bring up at the meeting and they all hoped the other would have something interesting to talk about.

It wasn’t until their tenth day of travel when something out of the ordinary snagged their attention. While passing by an opening in the woods, which permitted a grand view to the west, their observation was quickly diverted to a large formation of people. Any man with a good eye could see for at least two or three miles from this vantage point. Just on the edge of the horizon they could see a huge cloud of fog stretching all the way up to the sky. It was coming from the western plains, which connected Galdaria to their neighbor, Belderan.

What do you make of it? Asked Anthony It’s nearly midday and that looks like a cloud of morning mist. Could be the remnants of a rainstorm. Minutes of silence passed by until Dorian Spoke up.

I suppose it could be a storm but I've never seen one that size around this time of year. Looking closer, I swear I see a light infantry at the edge. Dorian declared.

Quite right. Peter agreed as he too squinted his eyes, trying to get a better look into the distance.

I wouldn’t call that a friendly gesture? Anthony exclaimed.

No doubt. Dorian Replied.

I can see no banners or colors. Explained Peter. Maybe they’re a group of refugees retreating from some conflict. Perhaps a tribe of Bedouins. They’re quite common in Belderan.

I doubt it. Dorian replied skeptically. Refugees and Bedouins don’t travel in military formation. There are about five thousand men down there and they’re all organized into rows and columns. Dorian pointed out.

What makes you think so? Asked Anthony. Dorian replied,

After seeing so many armies and measuring them from a distance, you begin to remember how many men it would take to make such a mass depending on how far away you are. Dorian clarified.

Belderan invading, and with only one division? Peter deduced.

Right. It makes about as much sense as the cloud of fog they’ve got following them. Dorian added.

The fog is perfectly understandable. Antho insisted. Dorian and peter both looked at him for an explanation. Dramatic effect. It’s very menacing, don’t you agree. He explained. Dorian and Peter rolled their eyes and resumed peering into the distance. Well it is. Antho remarked.

Belderan has always been locked in a state of war and tribal conflicts. Their leaders and kings come and go as often as the evening sun. But they’ve never tried to lash out at any of their neighbors like this. Peter considered.

So much for a calm annual assembly. This will have us all suited up and ready to march before the end of the month, mark my words. Peter groaned.

You’re getting old. Dorian mocked.

So are you. I just chose to embrace it. Peter came back.

The Beldans have never had any real quarrel with us. And now they march to war for no reason? Antho puzzled. Who’s in charge of Belderan right now, anyway. Antho wondered, as if planning to give them a proper scolding.

I can’t even remember. Their king’s are so often ascending and getting cast down. Peter admitted.

"At the speed they’re moving, they’ll be in Millrock by the time we reach the capital. Antho put in.

I’m sure Jairathyn already knows about it. Scout Company must have spotted them and reported in by now. Dorian reckoned. Unable to discern anything else from the situation, they all turned their horses back north, and hastened their pace. If Jairathyn already knew about this, he would be very anxious to see them.

The sun was beginning to set when Claria was in sight of the four travelers. It was one of the most beautiful cities in the world and close to the busiest. Claria was the center of all business, trade, and activity in Galdaria, and since Galdaria was on decent trading terms with almost every other country in the world, there was never a dull moment in the city streets. In most cities, streets and alleyways often bring about thoughts of clutter and dank corridors. Claria however, took great pride in neatness and appearance; therefore it looked as if the place had never seen a dirty day in its life. It made the citizens proud to know their city would be remembered as the perfect example of cleanliness, so they strived to keep it that way. The grand palace only enhanced the dazzling splendor of the place, with its bright white walls shining brighter still in the fading sunlight. The massive marble plated gates had the look of both beauty and solid security in one. The people of Claria usually welcomed all the generals of Galdaria. Every time they showed up for the yearly meeting, it gave the people a better feeling of protection.

As they all rode through the city, they were joined by General Brin Callahigh. Brin had just recently been promoted to the rank of general after fifteen years of service in the Galdarian military, the last five of which he had spent as a regimental commander for Anthony. He was now in training to take over Peter’s infantry division once he retired.

The closer they came to the palace the wearier Dorian became. He began glancing thoroughly into all the alleyways they passed by, staring at the corners and looking suspiciously upon anyone who came too close.

Looks like you might have dodged him this time. Anthony said to Dorian with the hint of a grin.

I'll believe that when I'm in the palace behind closed doors. Dorian replied cautiously.

Hail Nichola. Dorian heard another general call to him. General Callahigh veered his horse over, to ride along side him. Word has reached me that you boys saw a sizable force on the move, coming from the western plains.

That’s the sum of it. Who they are and what they're doing is completely undetermined as of yet. Dorian replied.

Indeed. Callahigh commented. He and Dorian continued engaging in idle conversation, all the while, unknown to Dorian, Anthony was communicating with a young boy lurking in the shadows, following them ever so discretely. The shabby looking kid with wild brown hair had been tracking them since they crossed the border of Claria. Jossel was his name. And every year the general's meeting took place, he would try to corner Dorian and sell him some of his wares. Pipes were his specialty. And some fine ones they were at that. All of them, hand crafted with exquisite detail, were quite unique. Dorian had made the mistake of buying one from him several years ago. It had been a justified purchase. The bowl had been made from hard oak and a marble pipe with an impression of the Ravarian broadsword carved on the sides, a special touch to make it a collectable for military men, and very reasonably priced. Of course Dorian may have changed his mind if he had known that he was also purchasing a lifetime of being singled out for new sales every time he came to Claria...for the rest of eternity.

Very carefully and quietly, Jossel moved through the corridors staying parallel with the generals on horseback.

Now? He silently mouthed to Anthony. Anthony shook his head and made a motion for him to wait a little longer. They continued riding for little more than five minutes and Callahigh seemed to have Dorian pretty well distracted. Just as they were fifty feet from the palace gates, Anthony gave Jossel the signal to move in.

Why anyone would want to live there is beyond me. Callahigh said in passing as he and Dorian conversed.

It depends on what suits you. Some people admire the excruciating redundancy of the landscape. Personally—

General Nichola! Jossel called out with a smile as he walked out to meet him. Dorian rolled his eyes and cursed himself for letting his guard down. Before the kid got any closer Dorian inconspicuously took the pouch of coins he always carried with him and tossed it to Anthony behind him.

I'm so glad I caught you before you went inside. Jossel greeted cheerfully.

Believe me, no one is more relieved than I am. Dorian replied with overdone politeness.

I wonder if you would care to take a look at a new piece I've been working on. I had you in mind when I came up with the design.

That's very touching but we've got a schedule to keep and places to be. Isn't that right Brin? He asked his comrade for confirmation.

Not entirely. We've got at least an hour before Jairathyn is expecting us. We always get here early so I'm sure we can spare a few minutes. Brin replied innocently.

Thanks a lot. Dorian said with fake politeness.

Take a look General. Jossel said as he offered to let Dorian see his finished product. Dorian leaned over and inspected the pipe. Indeed it was a work of art. The bowl had been carved from honey cedar, the sweetest smelling wood in the Valentera. On the sides of the bowl was an inscription of the actual red cedar tree whose shape was unmistakable. The stem itself was made of smooth white onyx with hundreds of incredibly tiny shards of gold melted into the side and arranged in the basic form of the Galdarian royal seal.

Amazing. Dorian muttered.

What was that general? Jossel prodded.

Uh, not bad. Dorian said after clearing his throat. Where did you get the materials for this? He asked Jossel suspiciously.

You'd be amazed at some of the things the fine hotels will discard just because they’re flawed. Jossel answered. And I made it with you in mind. Notice the military seal on the sides.

I know kid, you told me once already. Dorian replied annoyed. It's certainly a masterpiece. But regrettably I don't have any funds on my person at the moment. Maybe another time.

Oh come now Dorian. If it's really that tempting I could loan you the coin for now. Anthony chimed in as he tossed back the coin purse that Dorian had passed off to him earlier in order to