I've been around the world.
I've seen a million things.
I've fought in countless wars,
and dined with many kings.
I've seen the northern lights.
I've counted all the stars.
Been in 'n' out of Saturn's rings
and started life on Mars.
I'm fluent in every language.
I've tasted each cuisine.
I've stayed in every palace,
and lived what people dream.
I was there when it began,
and I know when it will end.
My only enemy is man,
yet you are still my dearest friend.
I invented evolution.
I gave you your first breath.
I was there at your conception
and I'll be there at the time of death.
"Marcus Pete Robert Welfare"
PREFACE
The castle was never completely quiet, of that nobody had any doubt. Her Majesty the Queen of Albion often catered to many guests from around the world, and most if not always they never had quite the right demeanor as a guest of Her Majesty should have. Some were fisher-folk from across the Sea, some were dark-skinned and muscular; others were cloaked in shadow. Jasper hadn't quite gotten used to the fact that Queen Illandere did not have the same expectations of courtesy in the halls as Lord Lucien had demanded, and he wasn't honestly sure which ruler he preferred when it came to common civility. At least when Lucien ruled, there was some expectation of quietness… when he was in the castle, anyway.
"Your Majesty, the mercenaries from Bowerstone have awoken half of the castle," Jasper said, straining as hard as he could to keep an edge of compliance within his tone. It was no good for a butler of the Queen to develop an attitude, no matter how many times she had told him herself how much she would appreciate it if he spoke his views. "Please, the ambassador is making a fuss."
Queen Illandere merely nodded once. She was leaning against the balcony dressed in nothing but her nightgown, her long brown locks of hair falling gracefully over her curvy, muscular features that seemed to glisten with Will. "I will be there soon," she said quietly, looking up towards the large, full moon and it's silvery light. "How are the children?"
Jasper sighed. "Logan is sound asleep, but Princess Darrina is up and about with your dog. The last I saw of them, Madame Loretta was hot in pursuit. Your Highness, I fear that your daughter may end up finding the mercenaries' rooms by herself if she's not careful."
Illandere turned away from the window at once and walked, barefoot, to her armoire. "I suppose we should rectify that matter," she said seriously. "And Logan is not awake, you say?"
"Not a peep," Jasper confirmed. "After spending the entire day playing with the other nobles' children, I suspect he must be exhausted."
"A boy only six years old, exhausted?" Illandere asked archly, raising one eyebrow. Jasper turned away politely, aware that the Queen was not wearing any of her underclothes and her nightgown was very see-through. He could hear her rustling around the armoire, bringing out clothes to wear. There was a soft rasp of metal on leather as she slid her katana into its sheath. "I am ready now," she announced with an edge of humor within her voice. "You may now look at me as you always do, Jasper."
Jasper merely led her to the door. "We must make haste," he urged her. Glancing back, he noticed that she had donned a large overcoat that covered her feminine features, and that her katana was placed on her back on its' customary sling.
Even the thought of what those mercenary misfits could do with the Queen's daughter was enough to make him nervous. He was not a fighter, more accustomed to wielding trays and teapots than something with a blade. If they took the Queen's daughter, or threatened her in any way, Jasper would be merely useless in that plight. "Perhaps we should call the guards," he suggested, hustling to keep up with Illandere's flowing gate.
"All we're doing is having a talk with the men making the noise, Jasper," Illandere reprimanded softly. "If we burst in with an honor guard in the dead of night, do you not think that would make a horrible impression? These are my friends and, as such, will not be difficult in dealing with."
"Then why are you carrying your sword?" he asked, dumbfounded.
"I will not go anywhere without it," she said simply, as if she were just talking about not eating bread without cheese. "I have been ambushed in the dead of night before. I was lucky, and though I do not hasten to think that we would be assaulted on this day, you can never be too careful. Hello, Lisella."
"My Queen," Lisella whispered reverently, curtsying as was her duty as Jasper and Her Majesty passed her.
Once they were out of earshot, Jasper started up again. "My Queen, I beg you to at least call upon one guard. Perhaps the head of the security. That Rowle. I cannot help you if those men become rowdy."
"Hold your peace, Jasper," Her Majesty reprimanded. "If you feel you must, go and find my daughter, though I have the strongest inkling that she is in the room with those mercenaries."
"Oh dear," Jasper whispered.
They continued through the warm, cozy halls, each on a totally different emotional mindset: where Illandere was calm and controlled, Jasper could feel his heartbeat continuing to race. The noises from the mercenaries' quarters were getting louder. They were laughing… that was odd. They hadn't been laughing when he'd last put his ear to the door.
Illandere knocked softly, but nobody seemed to have heard. She opened the door anyway, and Jasper felt as though maybe he should be in front, protecting the Queen from danger… but what kind of danger was he expecting? And she, after all, could take care of herself very well without a sword. The door swung open, revealing the long rows of beds that had been specifically laid out for the men. They were all, thankfully, dressed, though poor Jasper had no idea how long this would last—they were all imbibing tankards of beer and, when he squinted, it looked like they were using the castle's own finest!
"Excuse me," Illandere said softly. There was an unspoken power in her words that caught the attention of all in the room, and all of the noise abruptly stopped at once. Twenty large, muscular men placed their tankards on the nearest available surface (without coasters!) and bowed low to the Queen of Albion. The Queen, in turn, bowed to them. "I apologize for disrupting your night," she said with a smile, "but perhaps you could help me find my daughter? I believe she may have wandered over here."
There were hurried footsteps from behind them, and Jasper turned halfway to see. Madame Loretta and four of the Royal Guards were bustling over, and Madame Loretta looked like she was in a bit of a fluster. "Your Highness," she gasped, bowing. Her chubby cheeks were red with exertion.
"I'm right here, Mommy," a clear, high voice spoke up from the back. The mercenaries parted to allow the young Princess through, followed by the Queen's faithful hound Marcus. Princess Darrina raised her hands expectantly towards her mother, who knelt down and picked her up as easily as she would a small bag, her arms fitting protectively around her child. "I was 'sploring!" she said happily.
Curiosity killed the cat, or so they say, Jasper thought darkly.
Neither he nor Madame Loretta dared to reproof her in front of the mercenaries, however. Illandere merely smiled and kissed her brow. "Exploring?" she asked quietly. "Did you have fun down here?"
The three-year-old nodded enthusiastically. "It was fun! We played games!"
Illandere laughed. "That's wonderful, but it's past your bed time, young lady. Did Logan notice it when you left?"
"Nope!" Darrina exclaimed happily. "He's sweeping."
"As you should be, as well," Illandere said with a wan smile. "You go with Madame Loretta now and fall asleep, okay?"
"Okay," she said with a nod and a yawn. Madame Loretta took the sleepy child from Illandere's arms and retreated away quickly, followed by two of the Royal Guards. "Bye bye, Mommy!" Darrina called.
"Goodnight." Illandere and Jasper both waved to the departing Princess, and then the Queen turned to the two remaining Royal Guards and said, "You may return to your posts now, men. I thank you for assisting Madame Loretta."
"Yes, Your Majesty," they mumbled, and, shooting off a crisp salute, they turned on the spot and disappeared down a hallway.
"My daughter did not bother you, did she?" Illandere asked, turning to the assembled mercenaries. "That little one is always out exploring the new guests' quarters. She scared the ambassador just two days ago when she popped out of his closet."
"Oh, please, Your Worship, that little 'un is fine," one of the men said. He sported a rather impressive yellow beard. "Cute, too, 'specially that dog. He yours?"
"Yes," Illandere said with a brilliant smile. "Marcus has been with me for years."
"Right smart doggy, that is," another man reported.
"Yeah, took me 'at right off me 'ead!"
"I was very lucky to find Marcus," said the Queen with a nod. Nobody could be more courteous than her, Jasper thought. She truly was magnificent. "I apologize for not meeting with you today, I've had quite a bit on my plate. However, tonight is not the night for it—perhaps tomorrow afternoon?"
"Whatever time suits you, Your Highness." Their leader, a broad-shouldered man with a rather large mustache, came to the front of the group and bowed low. "Lionheart. Sparrow."
For the first time, Jasper saw a trace amount of surprise flicker over the Queen's face. "It can't be Walter Beck!" she exclaimed with a delighted smile. "Oh, but it is! I had no idea that you would be coming!"
And, to Jasper's shock, she embraced the man as if he were a part of her own family. He clapped her enthusiastically on the back. "It's been a while," he said gruffly. "Life in Bowerstone was too boring without you. Decided to come and see if you needed some help around the castle."
"Of course," she said, "always. You're volunteering?"
"Yeah, why not?" he asked with a chuckle. "Might as well, considering you saved my ass more than once during the fighting."
"I seem to remember you saving mine an equal amount of times," she pointed out.
"The dog remembered me," Walter said with a smile, looking down at the large, graying hound. He panted happily and allowed the older man to stroke his head. "Marcus is getting on in age, but he sure isn't senile yet."
"I'd hope not!" Illandere said, patting Marcus on the back. "Jasper, you may go if you wish," she said, as if suddenly remembering that he was there. "I will see you tomorrow."
"And what about your husband?" Jasper asked pointedly. "I'm sure he will be wondering where you are tonight."
"This man is a friend, and he's saved my life on more than one occasion," she said. "Now, I will come to bed shortly, but there's much for us to discuss."
"I was under the impression that you all would be meeting for the afternoon…?" Jasper asked, torn. "Should I cancel those arrangements?"
"No, keep them," said the Queen. "But I would catch up with my own friends tonight. Business tomorrow. Is that fair?"
"I… suppose so, Your Majesty," Jasper said with a bow, though he didn't want to have his Queen in a room alone with mercenaries. Don't be rash. It's her choice. And the dog is with her. "I shall go check on your children."
"Thank you."
Illandere turned about and Walter led her over to a bed for her to sit down. The other mercenaries crowded around in a circle around them, and Jasper was torn. He bit his lip, took one last look at them, and closed the door behind him as he exited.
But what was he to tell the ambassador? The raucous laughter began again, twice as loud as before, and Jasper had the feeling that he was not going to have a pleasant night until he was sure his queen was away from them for once and all. He dithered on the spot, and then made for the ambassador's quarters.
He'd have to have picked up something from Queen Illandere over the years. Hopefully he could placate a well-off man and be done with it.
Lucien was no good, he thought, but he would have put the fear into them, all right! Darn it, why do I get the feeling that being this woman's butler is going to involve many more things that were not in the job description?
Thankfully, however, getting that ambassador calmed down proved easy enough. Actually, Jasper didn't have to do a single thing. Apparently Lisella had brought him one of her 'special' drinks that sent him into a deep sleep, so Jasper sincerely doubted that he would be able to hear the loud yells of laughter from across the way.
Jasper wasn't exactly sure if he agreed with Lisella's answer to the problem, but he let it slide for the night—the man got his sleep, and that had been what he was complaining about. He even wondered if Queen Illandere had put her up to it.
He hesitated before knocking softly on the door leading to her quarters that she shared with her husband. "Come in," Byron called. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, reading a small book by candlelight. He wasn't wearing a shirt. "Ah, Jasper! What do you need?"
"It's not me, My Lord, but Queen Illandere," Jasper said. "She is catching up with some old friends downstairs and should not come to bed for quite some time."
"Old friends?" Byron echoed. "And who might those be?"
"The mercenaries who accosted the gate guards this evening," Jasper explained. "They had claimed that they were sent by an old friend to negotiate something of importance with the Queen…?"
"Well, I didn't know that she actually knew anybody there," Byron said with a blink. "That's odd. Any idea who they are?"
"One of them served alongside your wife," Jasper said hesitantly. "His name is Walter Beck, if that rings a bell."
"A very faint bell, but a bell nonetheless," Byron said. He sighed and closed the book. "I'll go ahead and assume I will be sleeping alone tonight. She likes to dawdle."
"That she does, sir," Jasper said, shaking his head. "Very well. May I get you anything?"
"No… but some information would be nice," Byron said, biting his lip. He looked as though what he was about to say had been bothering him for quite some time. "Jasper… I think I'm getting sick."
A cold knot formed in the butler's stomach. "Sick, sir?"
"Aye. Sick. I feel… like something's wrong with me. I'm weaker. My bones are aching. 'M feverish." Byron pursed his lips.
Jasper walked over and placed his palm on the King's sweaty forehead. "I shall call for the nurses at once," he said. "Hopefully it's just a bout of spring fever."
"Might be something else," Byron muttered, but Jasper had already begun to walk away towards the system of bells and pulleys that could alert any member of the staff. He pulled hard twice on the leftmost one and sat down on the edge of the King's bed.
Byron pushed his arm towards Jasper and pointed at it. "I want you to feel that right there," he said, pointing to his bicep. Jasper, frowning, did as the King bade him and was surprised to feel a hard knot there under the skin… in fact, when he moved his fingers around, it felt like a small lump. He felt Byron's other bicep, but the lump was only present on that one.
"That is not good," Jasper muttered. The door to the King's Chambers opened and in came Loretta accompanied by one of the helper boys around the castle. "Madame Loretta—we may have a problem," Jasper said.
Short Loretta listened with a grave face as Byron accounted to her his illness, and Jasper had the sudden, swooping feeling that the nurse knew exactly what he had. When she felt his arm, her fears only looked as if they were confirmed. "A cup of catmint tea it is for the fever," she said, but her brow was furrowed. "And you best drink it all. You go down to the kitchens and prepare it, boy."
"Yes, ma'am." The young boy ran off, and Jasper ran a hand through his long, graying brown hair in agitation.
"I think you have a cancer, My Lord," Madame Loretta said grimly. "I can't do much for it, but I sure will try. I think the Queen should be told immediately—maybe she could—"
"Illandere can't heal sicknesses," Byron said with a shake of his head. "Let her relax with her friends. We will tell her in the morning; I won't spoil my wife's good night with this news. I forbid you both to mention this to anybody until the Queen knows, understood?"
"Yes… My Lord," Loretta said with a frown.
"And you, Jasper?" King Byron asked.
"I will do as you say," Jasper said, though, privately, he didn't agree with it at all. "Though, My Lord, if I may make one quick suggestion? Stay indoors until the fever's passed. Stay in bed and read books, play with your children."
"My children…" Byron whispered. "Yes. Yes, I would like to see them both tomorrow after their classes."
There was a few minutes of awkward silence until the boy came back in, bearing a tray of tea that smelled of catmint. The King drank it, and Madame Loretta rushed downstairs to get a bucket of water and more ingredients. She lugged them both up all by herself and placed them next to the fireplace so more could be made with less fuss, and then she left at the King's bidding to get some sleep.
Jasper floated by the bed, uncertain of what to do or how he should act. He merely stood by the King's side, his hands behind his back, thoughts flying within his head. How would Queen Illandere react to this? How would the children react? "My Lord…" he said uncertainly, but Byron was already sound asleep.
Well, somebody had to stay with him. Jasper sat down at the footstool by the bed and bowed his head, closing his eyes.
A hand on his shoulder jarred him from a state of uncomfortable rest. Jasper twitched and stood up immediately as he recognized the Queen in front of him, accompanied by Madame Loretta. The Hero of Bowerstone merely looked at him and gave him a slight nod, motioning towards the door with her head. Jasper stood and, with Loretta, tiptoed towards the way out.
He turned around just in time to see Illandere, minus her weapons and overcoat, slide gracefully into bed next to Byron and wrap her long, pale and slender arms around her husband's chest. Marcus jumped on the bed and curled up to her with a small whine. He swallowed back his reflex question wondering if she needed anything and closed the door softly behind him.
"This is not good," Madame Loretta whispered as they walked quietly down the winding staircase. "Not good at all. It's too advanced; he must have been keeping this quiet for a while."
"You told the Queen?" Jasper asked in a low voice.
"I waited outside those hooligans' rooms until she came out," Madame Loretta said with a sniff. "What time is it?"
"Late," Jasper said. "Too late for you to be up and about, Madame. Go back to your room. Would you like anything?"
"No, no, that's quite okay, dear," she said distractedly. "You have a bit of a rest, too. I doubt the King will die tonight, after all."
"Don't mention that too loudly," Jasper snapped. "You don't know who might be listening."
He escorted the poor nurse to her room like a gentleman and noticed the little servant boy who'd carried the tea in standing at the end of the hallway, looking uncomfortable. "Sir?" he whispered as Jasper drew closer. "Is King Byron going to be okay?"
I wish I knew. Some people can survive this cancerous process, can't they? "I don't know," he said honestly. "But listen, you can't tell a soul. Not even your friends. Do you understand?"
"Yes… yes, sir."
"Good. Now off to bed with you."
Jasper watched him scurry off and could feel a frown pulling at his face. It had to be very late at night, because he seemed to be the only one besides the royal guard roaming about the hallways. He decided to take one last detour: he had, he remembered, been charged with looking in on Prince Logan and Princess Darrina before he'd been distracted.
"You're up late, Jasper," said one of the two guards standing outside their room.
"I was attending to the King on private matters," Jasper whispered. He took a small candle from the wall and poked his head in: Darrina had apparently vacated her bed and was sleeping quite soundly next to her older brother, whose arms were wrapped protectively around her shoulders.
He closed the door as quietly as he could and placed the candle back on it's holder. "Good night to you both," he said.
"Yeah. G'night."
Jasper finally went into his room—very modest in comparison to the others, but still better than anything available within the cities—and lit one single lamp so that he could undress himself in the light. With a sigh, the butler pulled the wrap out of his ponytail and surveyed himself in the mirror. Bags underneath my eyes, wrinkles, receding hairline… getting old suits me.
If King Byron died, Illandere would be heartbroken. They'd met even before her little jaunt in the Spire, and there wasn't a love stronger than theirs. King Byron had been merely a farmer when he married Illandere and became King of Albion, but he'd always made an effort to do right by his people. Being the husband of a well-known Hero was a tough job, one he bore proudly.
There was a chance that Illandere would live an extra twenty years due to her ancestry, but King Byron was just as mortal as the rest of them. Illandere never got as much as a head cold, unlike the rest of the people within the castle—stomach flues, colds, pneumonia. Even her children hadn't had a single illness during their short lives—
Though, now that Jasper thought about it, Logan had had a bug of some sort perhaps only a year or two ago… and that brought up a black, black question:
Was it possible that neither child were Heroes? Was it possible, just possible, that Illandere was the Last?
Oh, that would just not be good at all. Not good at all.
