Prince on the Run
By
Guy Antibes
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Map of Presidon
Desolation Boxster Character List
Copyright Page
Author’s Note
A Bit About Guy
Books by Guy Antibes
Copyright ©2020 Guy Antibes. All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced without the permission of the author.
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This is a work of fiction. There are no real locations used in the book; the people, settings, and specific places are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblances to actual persons, locations, or places are purely coincidental.
Published by CasiePress LLC in Salt Lake City, UT, June 2020.
www.casiepress.com
Cover Design: www.ebooklaunch.com
Book Design: Kenneth Cassell
Editing: Amy Hoffman
Principal Reader: Bev Cassell
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Author’s Note
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For the Adventures of Desolation Boxster series, I took a slightly different turn with the hero. From the title, I won’t be giving anything away to say he is a prince. My past heroes have been smart and have developed into being more than competent with weapons. Trevor is more than qualified with weapons when we first meet him, but he woefully lacks worldly experience. If you read this before the book, I’ll tell you that I consider this like a pilot for a television series. I am setting things up for what comes in the future, not that there aren’t the adventures and betrayals that are typical in my writing.
— Guy Antibes
Map of Presidon
Chapter One
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T he sword descended almost splitting Prince Trevor Arcwin’s head. Luckily, Trevor wore a helmet, and his attacker’s sword was made out of wood, as was his own. Nevertheless, the blow sent Trevor onto his rear end.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Trevor said to the soldier.
Trevor’s opponent laughed. “Why not? You’ve done the same to me often enough.”
That brought a grin to Trevor’s face. He had beaten the man regularly, and if it wasn’t for his stumble… Trevor took the soldier’s outstretched hand and jumped to his feet. The blow had done a little more damage than Trevor thought, and he swooned a bit before the two men parted.
“Everyone laughed when your opponent got the better of you,” Windon Denton said, walking with Trevor off the practice field.
Win, as Trevor always called his commoner friend, leaned against the fence railing. The soldiers’ training field was next to the royal orchards right outside of Tarviston Castle, where Trevor’s father, King Henry, ruled. Trevor watched the soldiers leave for their barracks, but he and Win headed in the opposite direction to the king’s castle. Trevor followed Win into the castle’s kitchens where Win’s mother, Marin, held her own version of court.
“Don’t come in here asking for handouts,” Marin said, glaring at her son.
Trevor knew she also included him in the scolding, but she would never confront a prince of the realm directly. He flinched on purpose when she winked at him, and that was his confirmation that she would be feeding them. Her winks couldn’t help but bring a smile to his face. Win actually had a great relationship with his mother. Win’s father, a sergeant in the royal army, had died in a border skirmish with West Moreton long ago. She had taken her grief out on the kitchen staff instead of her only child, Win.
“You have a family dinner tonight,” Marin told Trevor. “You’ll be late if you stick around here.”
“I do?” Trevor asked.
The cook smiled. “I’m not cooking all this food for the king himself.”
“I need to get going then.” He turned to Win. “I’ll see you in training tomorrow.”
Trevor left mother and son and ran through the servant passages once out of Win’s sight. Trevor wouldn’t hear the end of it if Win saw him running to obey Marin Denton.
He stopped and took a few deep breaths just before exiting the passage and entering into the corridor that led to his room in the farthest tower from his parents and siblings. Trevor grinned while the guard to his quarters unlocked the door. He darted inside and washed up while he thought about what he would wear.
Family dinners were worse than the hardest fought duel on the practice field. Trevor was by far the tallest, strongest, and most capable in arms of any of his brothers, so much so that he had been moved to his present quarters since they were closer to the practice field than any other suitable accommodations. Trevor didn’t know if that was the reason or not, but he accepted that as the excuse.
He’d never been a scintillating conversationalist or as witty as his brothers, and that included his younger brother, Renald, who had the potential to be the best persuader of the bunch. Trevor’s sisters claimed he was “excessively uncouth” and often reminded him of the fact, but that happened less often after his move across the castle. Trevor had long thought that he always spoke his mind when asked a question. He could dissemble, but Trevor never liked acting phony.
At nineteen, Prince Trevor was not to run in the main corridors of Tarviston Castle. He had been told that so many times as he grew older that he had relented and stopped doing such a thing. His mind was on how he could have possibly stumbled during his practice session when he heard loud voices around the corner. Now that Trevor was in the family tower, any voices that he heard might be his family’s. Trevor edged to the corridor but didn’t go so far as to stick his head around the corner to see what was going on.
“You think ruling would be so much fun?” Lilith, Trevor’s half sister and the oldest of his siblings, said.
“It is my duty,” said the voice of Bering, the crown prince. “You are the one who is seeking to rule. I’m sure you aren’t looking for fun but for power.”
Lilith laughed, but it was not a pleasant one. “One day you will see precisely what power means—”
“Of course I will,” Bering said. “I will be king, and I will be forced to watch my back when you are around.”
“Just don’t watch mine,” Lilith said. “Do you really think that Presidon won’t accept me since I don’t have your father’s blood flowing in my veins?”
“Of course. Everyone loves their king.”
Lilith grunted loudly enough for Trevor to hear it from his listening post around the corner. “That is what you think.”
“Poor Lilith. You and Mother will be so disappointed when Father dies.”
Trevor could hear the heels of Bering’s boots click on the stone floor as his older brother left Lilith by herself. Trevor tiptoed halfway back down the corridor and t
urned, making his boots loud enough to warn Lilith that someone approached.
He turned the corner and feigned surprise as Lilith faced him with fists on her hips.
“Did you hear anything?” Lilith said. Anxiety mixed with anger filled her voice as only she could pull off.
“No. Should I have?” Trevor said. “Why are you looking at me with so much anger in your eyes?”
“The anger isn’t for you, little brother.”
Trevor smiled. She had to bend her head back to look up into his eyes. “I’m glad for that. We will be late if we don’t hurry,” Trevor said.
Lilith pursed her lips. “You go ahead. It wouldn’t be good for me to enter with you,” she said.
Trevor bowed slightly to her and backed up a couple of steps so he could pass her as she stood planted to the floor.
“Wait,” Lilith said quietly as Trevor passed her. “If something happened to the king, would you support me as the new queen?”
Trevor smiled at her. “If Father died, I would support Mother as queen and Bering as crown prince.”
“Not Bering as king?” Lilith asked.
Trevor pressed his lips together. She had asked him a very sensitive question. Trevor may have been judged as slow, but he knew that that wasn’t the case. He had been preoccupied for most of his nineteen years with gaining proficiency in arms. “Who am I to get involved in matters of succession? I am fifth in line for the throne of Presidon, and what I say doesn’t matter to anyone.” And that was the unvarnished truth.
The comment brought the glimmer of a smile. “So, you do consider me as being part of the royal line?”
“I suppose so.” Trevor had gotten the response he expected, but he wouldn’t commit to more than he just had.
“Mother will be happy to hear that,” Lilith said. “There is hope for you yet.”
“There is hope for everyone, given enough time,” Trevor said. His archery instructor had used that line on him when he first started his formal lessons. It seemed to mollify his sister.
“Then go. I will follow in a moment.” She made a show of straightening her dress.
Trevor didn’t need to see her fuss, so he scurried down the corridor without looking back. He had a staircase to negotiate, down to the family dining hall that was used for his father’s private meals and the odd family dinner that occurred every month or two.
Prince Owen, the second son and third child of the queen, came from the opposite direction arriving at almost the same time. Trevor waited for him to join him. They gave each other a customary bow and let the guard at the door announce them.
Trevor let Owen precede him as protocol demanded.
“And how are you, Brother?” Owen asked. “I heard you had your head handed to you on the practice field this afternoon.”
“Word travels fast,” Trevor said. “I made the mistake of stumbling and was taught an important lesson.”
“What was that?”
“Make sure you take proper precautions, for you never know when fortunes will suddenly change. I wore a helmet today, even though we were using practice swords. Without it, I would be in a bed in the infirmary right now or worse yet, dead.”
Owen nodded his head. “Such a thing has been known to happen to members of a royal family.”
Trevor was aware of that, but since he wasn’t a threat to anyone, he rarely thought of being assassinated. Lilith finally arrived and talked to her halfsister, Wynn.
“King Henry and Queen Hyra,” the guard announced.
Trevor turned to see his father and mother enter the room. Her hand rested on the king’s outstretched arm.
“Sit,” King Henry said.
No one ever dared to sit before the king entered, and it was bad form to be late enough for the king to arrive before you did. Trevor had learned that the hard way. The king sat at the head of the table with the queen on the other end facing him. The king and queen’s children sat in their birth order with Owen and Bering seated to the king’s left and right. Trevor sat next to Owen and looked across the table at Wynn. Then Lilith always sat at her mother’s right with an empty set of chairs between Lilith and Renny. The queen insisted that Lilith sit next to her since Lilith’s father was the long-dead Duke Martin Crandyl of Dorwick, the country to the east of Presidon. King Henry married the widow almost as soon as Duke Martin’s grave had turned cold.
Trevor always thought of it as odd, but Bering long ago claimed that Queen Hyra loved Lilith as a mother truly should, something Bering detested since that love never seemed to be shared with any of Henry Arcwin’s children. As Trevor grew, he had to agree with his oldest brother’s assessment, and unfortunately, that lack of love included Wynn, Trevor’s sister, who was less than two years older than he. No mother-daughter relationship there, he thought, and Wynn could use an interested mother.
Dinner was served within minutes of the king’s arrival. Trevor was always happy about that. Cook Marin Denton’s food was superb, at least to Trevor’s palate. No one was permitted to speak while the king ate, and they couldn’t eat their dinner until the king finished his meal. Trevor always thought it an awkward situation. Renny, the baby of the family, had the hardest time keeping still and keeping from sneaking morsels off his plate when he was younger, but time and intense glares from his father had finally cured him of his misbehavior.
The king put down his dining tools and quietly said, “Begin.”
Speaking might have been forbidden while the king ate, but the king liked to converse and ask questions while everyone else ate. He always had a question, as inane as they often were, for each of his children and, lastly, Lilith.
“What have you been learning from my chamberlain, Bering?”
“Surely, you already know the answer, Father. We met with you this morning.”
King Henry cleared his throat. Everyone cringed since that meant he was unhappy with Bering’s answer.
Bering blinked at the rebuke. “We talked about the increased incidents of unrest on the West Moreton border.”
“I thought we put those bandits down seventeen years ago,” King Henry said. Trevor wondered why his father was almost smiling. It seemed his discussion with Bering amused him. It was as if he played to a different crowd than his family.
“The bandits’ children who you orphaned have finally grown up,” Queen Hyra said with indignation.
King Henry’s face turned red with anger, but Trevor had never seen his father argue with his mother at dinner. What they did elsewhere wasn’t known among the children, but Trevor was sure there were differences discussed between the two very strong willed people.
“The chamberlain is meeting with Virtue Underton, the war minister, tomorrow after lunch,” Bering said.
King Henry nodded. “I have thought about that meeting, and I believe I will join them, but you are not to tell them that I will be dropping in. I had an important meeting with Underton this morning.”
Bering lowered his head. “I won’t, Father.”
The king nodded his head. “Owen, how are your ecclesiastical studies?”
“Should I recite the passages in the Trials of Dryden that I learned today?”
“That shouldn’t be necessary,” King Henry said. “What about your preparation to attend the university in Ginster?”
“Brother Yvan has not yet received an answer from the dean. He hopes for a positive answer, but I am a little old to be attending the university.”
King Henry frowned. “You are only twenty-six.”
“Brother Yvan said that Trevor would be a better candidate,” Owen said.
Trevor just about coughed up what he was swallowing. Mention of his name was sure to earn a rebuke from his father, but Owen implicated Brother Yvan as well, and that was almost a malicious act.
“Trevor’s education is limited to knowing which part of a sword has the sharp end,” the king said. He turned to Wynn. “Have you picked out an appropriate dress for the Summer Tourney?”
Sh
e batted her eyelashes at her father and enchanted him with a shy smile. Wynn basked in her father’s love, while she was frozen out by her mother. “I have, Father. You will love it.”
“It is time for someone else to love it, my sweet. I intend to have you accept a suitor during the Tourney. Nobles from our neighbors, as well as Presidon nobility, will be there. They will revel in your beauty.”
Trevor never thought of Wynn as particularly pretty or very smart, for that matter. She took too much after the king. That was why she hadn’t been married off yet, but the king’s flattery always raised her spirits.
“And you, Trevor? I heard you were soundly defeated by a common soldier today.”
“He wasn’t particularly common, Father, but I was defeated.” The less Trevor said, the better.
“What events are you going to ask to participate in during this year’s Summer Tourney?”
“Sword, archery, and jousting,” Trevor said. He always mentioned those three.
“No jousting,” the king said. It was his annual rejection, and Trevor was prepared for it.
“Then the mounted melee instead?”
The king put his elbow on the table and rested his chin on his fist. “That would be interesting. Full armor, Trevor. I’m sure the tournament will have special meaning this time around.”
Most participants did not wear all their armor so they could be nimbler in the competition. The combatants used wooden weapons to minimize the injuries, but King Henry’s condition was more than acceptable to Trevor if he could compete in the field.
“I won’t disappoint you.”
The king nodded and straightened up. “In matters of arms, you rarely do.”
Trevor was used to the qualification. His father never asked about his mental accomplishments, not that there were many, but Trevor knew his letters and his numbers as well as any of his siblings and had written scholarly arms manuals that he had given to his father to prove that he could learn. King Henry had never mentioned them.
“And what has Prince Renald been up to?” King Henry said with a grin.