The Son of a King (A Tale of Love): Of a King, #4
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An unthinkable request. An unwanted journey. An unlikely trio. Unseen battles. Unknown dangers. Unforgotten pain. Unforeseen loss. Unimagined joy. The Son of a King (A Tale of Love) by Candace Christine Little recounts the adventures of William, the son of the king of Windsal, as he returns to Morlestoph—and uncovers the unlimited power of an unceasing, unfailing love.
The Son of a King (A Tale of Love) is the fourth book in a set of four. The first three books tell the stories of two brothers, and the fourth book tells the story, set many years later, of two important characters from the third book. Each story is complete, however—no cliffhanger endings.
Though the books are appropriate for children, they are entertaining enough for adults to enjoy. All the stories involve battles between good and evil, but they are told with a light, family-friendly touch. Looking for a feel-good adventure? Want to escape for a while to an imaginary land? Experience the adventure and the hope in The Son of a King (A Tale of Love).
Candace Christine Little
Candace Christine Little has a B.A. from Dallas Christian College and a J.D. from Regent University School of Law. She has written six novels. Four are part of one series: The Pursuit of a King (A Tale of Wisdom), The Heart of a King (A Tale of Faith), The Honor of a King (A Tale of Mercy), and The Son of a King (A Tale of Love). Two are part of another: Where Dragons Dwell and Whom Dragons Rule. Candace believes in the power of stories to nourish, to teach, and to inspire, and she is wholeheartedly committed to endings that are happy.
Read more from Candace Christine Little
Of a King
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The Pursuit of a King (A Tale of Wisdom): Of a King, #1 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Honor of a King (A Tale of Mercy): Of a King, #3 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Heart of a King (A Tale of Faith): Of a King, #2 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Son of a King (A Tale of Love): Of a King, #4 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
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The Son of a King (A Tale of Love) - Candace Christine Little
The Son of a King
(A Tale of Love)
by
Candace Christine Little
Copyright 2012 Candace Christine Little. All rights reserved.
Dedication
May you know His love.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1: Sunflowers
Chapter 2: Advice
Chapter 3: Selia
Chapter 4: Peppermints
Chapter 5: Rowing
Chapter 6: An Arrow
Chapter 7: Silence
Chapter 8: A Perfect Gift
Chapter 9: Lady Sophia
Chapter 10: Lentello’s Islands
Chapter 11: The Same Disguise
Chapter 12: Crying
Chapter 13: Who He Was
Chapter 14: Flames
Chapter 15: Grunhy
Chapter 16: Stories
Chapter 17: Solt
Chapter 18: The Alliance
Chapter 19: At War
Chapter 20: A Commotion
Chapter 21: Ships
Chapter 22: A Powerful Grace
Chapter 23: The Blade
Chapter 24: The Water’s Edge
Chapter 25: Home
Chapter 1: Sunflowers
Captain William, you shall not prevail,
said the mysterious man dressed all in black as he pointed his fierce, fiery sword toward me. You are wounded. You are weary from our long battle. You cannot win. Surrender.
He smiled at me triumphantly.
And then I recognized him: he was King Lliod of Morlestoph. But in the next instant he was Dunley. And then almost immediately he was the mysterious man again.
A stabbing pain from a wound I could not see ached and burned with every breath I took, and the word weary did not go far enough in describing my exhaustion. But summoning all the strength I possessed for one final assault, I pointed my sword at the man in black and said, I most certainly shall prevail—in the name of the Great King. Withdraw now, sir, while you are able.
The mysterious man’s gaze moved from my face to something over my shoulder. He dropped his flaming sword and ran, his feet making a frantic pounding sound as he retreated from the clearing to the forest beyond. I spun around to see what had frightened him off, but I saw nothing that would explain his sudden flight.
The crackle and hiss of flames behind me caught my attention, and I turned again—to see that the fire from the flaming sword had ignited a patch of grass. I stamped at the flames and then tried to smother them with my cloak. But the struggle was short. The grass, still damp from a recent rain, was easily put out.
A moment or two of observation convinced me the flames would not spring back to life. But to my surprise, in those moments I heard the same frantic pounding sound I had heard as the man in black ran away. And then I realized that the sound had never stopped.
With a start, I awoke. The pounding continued. Someone was knocking, rather insistently, on the door of my grandfather’s house. I shook off the remnants of the dream and rose.
I met Grandfather Miltor in the hall as we both rushed to the door.
Expecting someone?
he asked me.
No. Perhaps one of us should...
I pointed toward a partial wall near the door, a perfect hiding spot from which to ambush any visitor with bad intentions.
Grandfather nodded. I hid behind the wall. And then I heard the door open.
Eemedred,
Grandfather said. Come in! Come in! Is something the matter? You seem uneasy. I will send for—
No need,
said Eemedred. All is well. But I must speak to Captain William.
I came out from my hiding place.
Eemedred turned his head toward me. Ah—Captain William! I must speak with you. Miltor, sir, I beg your forgiveness for disturbing you at such a late hour.
I do not mind at all,
said Grandfather. This is the most excitement I have had in a very long time. Can I make you some tea? Here—come into the sitting room. Make yourself comfortable.
Eemedred followed Grandfather into the next room. I do not want to keep you awake, and—I do apologize—I must speak with Captain William alone.
Grandfather glanced at me curiously. If you will excuse me, then, I will return to my bed. Wake me if you need anything, of course,
he said. But I doubted that Grandfather Miltor would actually go back to sleep. He had as much of an appetite for adventure as either of his two sons—my uncle, Prince Barto, or my father, King Artemerio. I fully expected him to remain awake until I had given him a report on the reason for Eemedred’s visit.
How did you know I was here?
I asked Eemedred as soon as Grandfather had left us.
Eemedred did not answer. Instead, he peeked outside through each of the windows in the room.
My father? Prince Vestero? No one else knows of my return.
Eemedred looked up from where he had knelt down to peer under Grandfather’s couch. Lagalian warrior. In a dream. Said my finding you here would prove the truth of the other words he spoke.
He finished his search under the couch and stood. Then he moved on to a closet across the room. He insisted I speak with you tonight.
Are you in danger? And if so—if you are making sure no one is hiding in this room—who could possibly fit under the couch?
Eemedred held a finger to his lips to silence me. Then he whispered—rather loudly, We cannot be too careful, Captain William. A course of events has been set in motion that will—
He looked toward the door of the sitting room. Tiptoeing, he crossed to it. After cautiously peering behind it—as if he thought someone might be hiding in the space between the door and the wall—and glancing up and down the hall beyond the doorway, he closed the door. He turned quickly toward me, a wildly excited look in his eyes. So what he said was true! Here you are! How extraordinary!
He grasped the top of his head with one hand and dropped down suddenly onto the chair nearest to him.
Grandfather’s somewhat overfed cat had been reclining on the somewhat overstuffed cushion of that chair, unfortunately, and let out an angry yowl as she leapt to the floor. She sat down abruptly and began to bathe herself.
Oh! I did not see her. What is her name?
Eemedred smiled apologetically toward the cat.
Sunflowers. But—
Her name is Sunflowers?
Eemedred sounded amazed. His eyes were wide.
Yes, but—
But that is the second sign—angry Sunflowers! I thought he meant actual sunflowers, but this makes much more sense.
He clapped his hand to his forehead and shook his head. I should not be surprised, I suppose, but this is all so extraordinary.
He stared dazedly toward the cat. But then he laughed. Angry sunflowers. I wondered how I would be able to tell what the flowers were feeling, and I pictured tiny little—
I must interrupt you. I do not mean to be ungracious, but you mentioned something about a course of events being set in motion. What course of events?
Yes. My reason for coming to you.
He stood. Then he sat down and opened his mouth as if to speak. Then he closed his mouth and stood once more. I need you to captain a ship for me, Captain William.
He seemed about to go on, but I wanted to save him the trouble.
Impossible,
I said. The voyage I have just returned from was my last. I am going to marry Selia and resign my commission.
Oh, dear.
Eemedred sighed. He stooped down toward Sunflowers, one arm outstretched as if to pet her. But the cat eyed him warily and darted away before he could make peace. He sighed again and straightened up. I am afraid I have brought a great deal of unrest to this house tonight. And I am afraid I must bring more. Captain William, I must continue with my request. Please—hear me out. It is of the utmost urgency that you listen to all that I have to say.
I hesitated to agree to what I was certain would be a fruitless conversation. But Eemedred’s serious expression persuaded me to listen.
Very well. Continue,
I said.
Thank you. Here is what I have been sent to tell you: I am to return to Morlestoph. And you are to take me back.
Morlestoph!
I stumbled backward toward the chair nearest to me and sat down. But then I stood. What are you thinking? From all reports, King Lliod has proven to be a more heartless tyrant than—
Eemedred grimaced and seemed to be bracing himself for my next words.
Than even Queen Crainte,
I said, instantly regretting that in my distress I had nearly compared King Lliod to Eemedred—and regretting that Eemedred seemed to have anticipated my thoughtless reference to his past. I rushed on, hoping to keep us both from dwelling on memories best left unremembered. If you set one foot on those shores, your life will be over. And I will fare no better. This—this is— Forgive me, Eemedred, but you are speaking like a madman.
I know how this must sound. Trust me—I know. A madman? Yes. Yes, I would have to be quite mad to suggest such a thing on my own. But, you see, that is what I am trying to tell you—this is not my own idea. The Lagalian warrior told me to come here and present this request to you. It is the Great King who wants to send us to Morlestoph.
I studied Eemedred’s face carefully. Despite all he had said and done, he did not have the look of a madman. Nor did he carry himself with an air of deceit or treachery.
I will listen to what you want to tell me,
I said. But I warn you—I am not persuaded at all to do as you have asked. I want no part in taking you to your death—or in sailing off to my own.
Very well. But before I begin the story, I should tell you that there is a third sign. I do not understand what they mean, the words I am to say, but I trust they will have some meaning for you.
Eemedred paused. You shall, indeed, prevail. And your wound shall be healed.
He stared at me. He seemed curious to see my reaction to the words.
I sighed as I sat down. The dream I had woken from came to my mind immediately, and a quiet whisper in my heart confirmed the truth of all Eemedred had said. More than anything, I did not want to go to Morlestoph. But I knew that going to Morlestoph was exactly what I was to do.
When do we leave?
I said quietly.
***
I attended a luncheon at the palace the next day, and there I requested a private meeting with the king and queen, which they very obligingly agreed to grant.
Which disguise was Prince Vestero to wear today?
King Artemerio looked questioningly at various people in the dining hall. I will tell him at once of this change in our plans for the afternoon.
Prince Barto and Princess Celisse should join us—and Prince Vestero and Lady Mercy. And we should meet in the secret room,
I said.
I will see to it,
said the king. He waved toward a hunchbacked man at the far end of the table.
The hunchbacked man smiled confusedly and waved back.
Not Vestero,
said the king with a frown. Oh—that one.
He waved to a bald man wearing a perfectly tailored suit of clothes.
The man’s countenance brightened, and he stood, looking eagerly toward us.
No, not Vestero. Oh, no—how could I forget?
The king smiled, raised his goblet toward the man, and looked away quickly. He isn’t coming over here, is he? What is he doing?
he whispered to me.
He returned to his seat,
I said. He looks disappointed—oh, the woman next to him looked at you and asked him a question. He is answering, and he looks quite pleased with himself. And now the woman looks startled...and now she is looking down at her plate. And he is still speaking—and trying to catch her gaze, which she is carefully averting. Who is that man?
The king glanced in the direction of the bald man, who was still speaking to the woman, who was still avoiding his gaze. The mayor of Clifton. I am to meet with him later today. It looks to be a rather long meeting, I fear. By all accounts, he is a man particularly pleased with the sound of his own voice.
He turned his attention to the other guests and studied them one by one. But where is Prince Vestero?
A servant took our plates, and another delivered bowls of soup. The king took up his freshly filled goblet—and underneath it was a note that said the following:
Will notify the requested parties of the meeting with C.W. and make all arrangements.
-V.
How does Vestero do that?
said the king. Well, Captain William, I look forward to learning the reason for this meeting.
He looked at me as if he hoped I might give him some hint.
But I could do nothing more than thank him for accommodating my request. Eemedred had insisted that the details of the journey were to be shrouded in the strictest secrecy, and, given my growing dread at the thought of mentioning a return to Morlestoph to the king and queen, I was happy to comply.
***
Protocol forbade that Eemedred be admitted to—or even know the location of—the secret room, but Eemedred had insisted I take the precaution of discussing the journey there. I could not convince him that any other meeting place would do, so it fell to me alone to present the request to sail.
All at the meeting had many questions, and all voiced concern regarding the tremendous risks involved in a return to Morlestoph.
If you are captured,
the king said, the Morlestophians will make you a slave—at best. At worst, they will kill you. The same is true for Eemedred. Are you absolutely certain you are to go?
I am certain. To set out on such a journey if it is not from the Great King would be reckless and futile. You are right to ask the questions you have. But I am convinced this is from the Great King. Under no other circumstances would I entertain such a plan. I have no desire of my own to make this journey. But I leave it in your hands to consult the Great King and gain your own clarity regarding the matter.
After I answered their final questions, I left. Two days passed before I was summoned to the secret room to receive the king’s answer.
The same who had convened before convened again, and all were silent as I joined them. The king appeared troubled, and I thought perhaps he meant to refuse the request. The expressions of the others revealed nothing.
I will not keep you waiting for your answer, Captain William,
said the king. The Great King has made clear his will for you to sail.
He frowned. I trust that even in this the Great King will prove himself to be good. I have every confidence you will accomplish all you are meant to accomplish. Go—in the name of the Great King.
In the Name of the Great King,
I said. "Let me assure you that, unless the Great King tells me otherwise, I will do all in my power to return to Windsal as speedily as I am able. Everyone and everything I love are all here. I cannot imagine a kingdom