Sebastian Darke: Prince of Fools (16 page)

Sebastian felt an instant twinge of dislike. Perhaps it was his elf intuition working overtime, but he thought that King Septimus had one of the most untrustworthy faces he had ever seen.

Cornelius immediately dropped to one knee and slammed a chain-mail-clad elbow into Sebastian's leg, prompting him to do the same. The king seemed happier with this state of affairs. He gazed left and right, as though looking for somebody.

'Where is my niece?' he asked.

'Here, Uncle!' Princess Kerin appeared in the doorway of her carriage, and Sebastian saw that she had taken the opportunity to change her clothes. She wore a beautiful red velvet gown and a fine jewelled tiara that glittered in the sunlight. She stepped down from the carriage and walked across to climb the steps that led up to the courtyard. As she passed Sebastian, she glanced down at him and he could have sworn that she slipped him a sly wink, but it was so fleeting, he might simply have imagined it. She walked over to her uncle and gave him an elegant curtsy.

'Your majesty,' she said.

'My dear niece! How wonderful to see you safe and well on this most special of days.' The king came forward and embraced Princess Kerin, holding her to him for a moment and then releasing her. He turned to face the crowd that was gathering around the edges of the steps and raised his voice to speak to them.

'People of Keladon,' he cried. 'May providence be praised! Our much-loved princess has been safely returned to us on the very day that she reaches seventeen summers. Just one more year and she will be your queen!'

This announcement was met by a huge roar of approval from the rapidly expanding crowd. The king turned back to Princess Kerin and spoke in a quieter tone. 'After hearing of your misfortune, I have done nothing but chastise myself. How could I have been so stupid as to allow you to be placed in such a dangerous situation? Can you ever find it in your heart to forgive me?'

'Uncle, it wasn't your fault,' said Princess Kerin.

'Well, no, obviously!' snapped King Septimus. Then he laughed – rather nervously, Sebastian thought. 'Er . . . but that doesn't make me feel any better about the situation.' He did a double take and glanced back towards the few soldiers who had escorted the princess back into the city. 'Where is your Royal Guard?' he asked.

'All dead, sire,' said Cornelius. 'They died bravely to the last man, fighting to defend the princess.'

The king glared down at Cornelius, as though astounded that he had dared to speak without permission. 'Dead?' he cried.

'Yes, sire, they were badly outnumbered.'

'But . . . I sent a detachment of twenty men with her.'

'Many of them were unable to accompany us back,' explained Princess Kerin. 'We had but six with us, because—'

'– they were all taken ill,' said Septimus. T know.'

The princess looked puzzled. 'How did you know?' she asked.

'Hmm?' He gazed at her blankly for a moment. 'Well, because I am the king, it's my business to know.' He seemed to consider for a moment. 'That messenger from Captain Tench, he told me.'

'Really? I didn't realize he had that information.'

'Well, of course he did! He told me everything – the Brigands, the lupers . . . all in all it's a miracle you survived.'

Princess Kerin nodded. 'I wouldn't have,' she assured him, 'if it hadn't been for my two champions.'

'Ah yes, now I'm really looking forward to meeting
them
!' said King Septimus. 'Where are they?'

Princess Kerin stared at him. 'Why, they're right there in front of you,' she said.

King Septimus looked down at Sebastian and Cornelius and looked away again, as if expecting to see somebody else. But there was nobody else. 'These two?' he said in disbelief. 'These are your champions?'

'Actually, there's
three
of us,' said Max. 'I helped too!'

The king's eyes bulged in astonishment. He pointed at Max. 'It spoke!' he said. 'That great hairy brute just spoke!'

Princess Kerin smiled. 'Yes, I'm sorry – of course I should have said
three
champions, not two. So, Uncle . . . may I introduce to you . . . Sebastian Darke, from the town of Jerabim . . .'

Sebastian stood up and made a bow.

'Captain Cornelius Drummel from the great northern city of Golmira . . .'

Cornelius did likewise.

'And, er . . . Max, the talking buffalope, also from Jerabim.'

King Septimus seemed to be having trouble accepting what he had just been told. 'And these . . .
people
are the mighty warriors – the ones who fought off an army of Brigands . . . and a pack of lupers?'

'The very same,' Princess Kerin assured him. 'If it were not for them, I would almost certainly be dead by now.'

'Dead,' murmured King Septimus. There was a strangely unsettling tone in the way he said it, Sebastian thought. He sounded almost wistful. Then he seemed to recover himself. 'Well then, it would seem that I am in the debt of these, er . . . gentlemen.' He approached them. 'You must tell me, good sirs, how best I may reward you.'

There was a brief silence. Then Sebastian spoke.

'Your majesty . . . my intention in coming to Keladon was to seek employment as a jester to your court.'

'A jester?' King Septimus looked uncertain. 'It's some time since we had one of those,' he murmured. 'I'm not sure that I . . .'

'He's a very good one,' said Princess Kerin. 'In fact, on our journey here, Mr Darke has kept me entertained with many excellent jokes and stories and I can vouch for the fact that he is quite hilarious.'

King Septimus considered for a moment. Then he smiled. 'If he is to your taste, Princess, then he is to mine also. Of course I shall employ him! Shall we say . . . three golden crowns a month?'

Sebastian almost shouted with delight. This was more money than he had ever dreamed of. But Princess Kerin hadn't finished yet.

'Uncle, I think a man of his experience is worth five crowns,' she said. 'That's certainly what he was used to receiving in the royal court of Jerabim.'

Sebastian stared at her. He had never been anywhere near the court of Jerabim and she knew it. But she had said it with such absolute conviction, nobody would have suspected the invention for a moment.

'Well, then we must go one better!' announced Septimus. 'We'll call it six crowns. And of course you will receive board and lodging here at the palace. Well, what do you say, Mr Darke? Do we have an agreement?'

'We certainly do, your majesty.' Sebastian tried and failed to wipe the grin off his face. He looked down at Cornelius, who was smiling up at him, as if to say, 'See, I said you could do it!'

'And we will sample your talents after Princess Kerin's birthday feast tonight,' added King Septimus, which got rid of the grin in an instant. The king turned his attention to Cornelius. 'Now, little man, what can I do for you?' he asked.

Cornelius bowed again. 'Your majesty, I came to Keladon with but one purpose in mind. To join the Crimson Cloak.'

King Septimus stared at Cornelius for a moment. Then he laughed. 'The Crimson Cloak!' he said. 'You? Forgive me, Captain, but . . . you are such a little fellow, I hardly think the position would suit you.'

'On the contrary, your majesty, I believe it would suit me down to the ground. I only ask an opportunity to prove my worth to you.'

King Septimus smiled, but there was no real mirth in his eyes. Sebastian, who now had every excuse in the world to like the man, still found that something in the king's demeanour troubled him.

'Well, Captain Drummel, I must tell you that any man in the land is free to apply for a position in the Crimson Cloak. And to gain entry, he has only to achieve one thing. He must first beat my champion in unarmed combat.'

Cornelius rubbed his hands together. 'I would be more than happy to undertake such a contest,' he said.

King Septimus looked decidedly smug. 'Perhaps you should wait until you've actually
seen
my champion,' he said. He lifted a hand and clicked his fingers. 'Send out Klart,' he shouted. There was a long pause and they could dimly hear a series of people shouting out the name somewhere in the depths of the palace.

'Klart is a native of the island of Mavelia,' said the king, inspecting the perfectly manicured fingernails of one hand. 'I don't suppose either of you have visited it?'

Sebastian and Cornelius shook their heads.

The king smiled sweetly. 'Let's just say that they are a . . . rugged people,' he said. 'And I will quite understand if you wish to reconsider facing him in a fight.'

After what seemed an age, a figure came shambling out from the open doorway of the palace. Sebastian took a sharp breath. The man was so big, he had to stoop to avoid bashing his shaggy head against the arch of stone above him. He was a veritable giant, a. great big muscular brute, with dirty shoulder-length red hair and a wild beard. He was dressed in what looked like the furry hide of a buffalope, and as he came striding forward across the courtyard, the ground seemed to shake under the impact of his heavily booted feet. He raised his mighty arms to wave to the crowd and they cheered him gleefully. Obviously this was not the first time they had seen him fight.

'Cornelius, this is ridiculous!' said Sebastian. 'You can't fight
him,
he's as big as a house.'

The little warrior shrugged and cracked his knuckles together. 'There's a very old saying around Golmira,' he said. 'One that I have lived by for years. "The bigger they come, the harder they fall."'

King Septimus chuckled at that. 'Bravely spoken, little man!' he said. 'Well then, if you're intent on doing this, step up here and try your luck. But I can take no responsibility for the outcome. Klart tends to play rough.'

'So do I,' said Cornelius quietly. He unbuckled his sword and knife and dropped them to the ground. Then he climbed the steps to the courtyard. The king gestured to the others present and they all moved back to give the two warriors space to fight.

'Now,' said the king, 'let's have a good clean fight, boys. No biting, no gouging – and, Klart, this time, absolutely no eating your opponent.' He stepped back to give them more room.

The two men stared at each other in silence for a few moments and then began to circle, both of them crouched in fighting stances. Sebastian didn't know what to think. With his own eyes he had seen Cornelius defeat powerful foes, but Klart was so big and so strong, it seemed an impossible contest.

It was Klart who made the first move, swinging down with a right fist, but Cornelius simply dodged the blow and danced back again. He resumed his fighter's stance and went back to his circling. The crowd cheered appreciatively. Klart tried several more times to hit his little opponent but to no