Chapter 19 - The Heir's Guard

They sat so for a few more minutes until the door opened again. Randor was wondering if they shouldn't move, all three of them, to his study, where no one felt they had the right of easy entrance, but Duncan cleared his throat apologetically.

"Yes, Man-at-Arms?" Randor said. "Come in, sit down." Duncan walked around the bed and took up the position so recently vacated by Stratos. Sergeant Raon followed him in and stood at the foot of the bed, eyes wide and innocent, clearly refusing to notice the tableau before him. Since he was so intent on ignoring them, Randor decided to ignore his presence. Suddenly, the bed shifted wildly behind him as Cringer leapt up and curled up next to his master.

"No luck, I take it?" Randor asked.

"None. Cringer wasn't the least bit interested in any of them, but unfortunately, that isn't necessarily conclusive. I did, however, neuroscan them, and none of them shows signs of unusual brain activity for a small vertebrate mammal."

"So, you don't think we've got the imposter?"

"No. I doubt very much that he would have the same neuroscan as a ferret, weaselly though he was."

Randor sighed. "So, have you let them go?"

"Not yet. I didn't think it was my place to make that decision."

"Marlena?"

She pursed her lips. "If you're certain, Duncan, that none of them is the imposter."

"As certain as I can be, your highness."

"Well, then I don't know what else we'd do with several cages full of ferrets."

"I'll have Sy-Klone release them, then." Randor nodded and Duncan stood up. Raon made a slight noise, causing Randor to raise a curious eyebrow in his general direction. Duncan gave the soldier a wry look. "Oh, yes. Raon has volunteered for duty as Adam's bodyguard, should such be needed."

"I think that's a wonderful idea!" Marlena exclaimed

Randor blinked at the young man, who was trying hard to look trustworthy and imposing. It was an interesting notion, and one he'd toyed with himself. "Perhaps we should take this conversation elsewhere," hesuggested. "We wouldn't want to awaken Adam." Very gently, he lay his son back on the bed, trying to ignore the pain from the burn on his back. Cringer seemed to appreciate this change in his boy's position, and proceeded to stretch himself out along the entire length of Adam's body. Randor gave Cringer's ear a scratch and kissed Adam's forehead. Marlena pulled a quilt off the other bed and covered Adam up. "Duncan," Randor said, turning to his oldest friend. "I'd like you to stay here with Adam while Marlena and I talk with Raon."

Duncan's eyes widened. "But, Randor, I –"

"Any projects you're working on can surely be put on hold for a short time. I don't want Adam to wake up alone."

"I could send for Teela. I think I should be involved in such a conversation."

Randor chuckled. "Don't you think they've spent enough time alone together of late?" Randor shook his head. "By bringing Raon to me, you've made your opinion on this matter clear. You can safely leave it to me from here on." He smiled at Duncan to take any possible sting out of his words, and gave him a firm handclasp. "Stay with him, Duncan. I need to know someone I trust is here."

Duncan braced to attention and nodded. "As you wish, sire."

Randor led Raon and Marlena to the Records Office where he had the clerk pull Raon's file and those of six others. He pretended not to notice Raon's dismayed gulp. The clerk, at some gesture from Marlena, handed the pile of files to Raon. Randor gave his wife an irritated look, to which she returned a bland smile.

Randor was beginning to feel cosseted as Marlena opened the door to his office for him and Sergeant Raon carefully placed the files on his desk before his chair. Then the sergeant walked around to stand at attention on the other side of the desk. Randor walked over to stand in front of his chair. He remembered a time when Raon was a boy and Adam and Teela had been fascinated by the older child. More than once he'd kept the pair occupied so that their parents could get some quiet time.

"So, Sergeant," Randor said, opening Raon's file. "Tell me why you have volunteered for this position." Marlena sat down nearby, watching the proceedings. Randor had no doubt, however, that she'd make her opinion known if she saw the need.

Raon cleared his throat. "Your highness, I believe that the prince is in need of more specific and separate protection. He is clearly under threat from several sources –"

"Yes, I quite see that, Raon," Randor said. "But in fact you missed the point of my question. Why do you think you're qualified?"

"Oh, I see, your highness." Raon swallowed his embarrassment and forged ahead. "Well, I am expert in small arms, experienced with the larger armaments, and I excel at several forms of unarmed combat. I have trained with a blade since I was a boy. I am close enough to the prince's age to relate to him as a peer, which seems to me important, as he is at an age when young men are sensitive about being told what to do. Yet I am sufficiently older than he not to be prey to those same insecurities." Randor raised an eyebrow, remembering a particular moment of insecurity from about two months ago.

"Sergeant, this wouldn't have anything to do with the guilt you expressed when you attempted to resign just before Adam was carried off to Snake Mountain?"

The young man's eyes widened, and his back straightened. "No, sire. I don't believe so. I genuinely want to be of assistance."

"I just don't want you to be making this choice as an effort to expiate any residual feelings from that episode."

Raon shook his head. "Certainly not, your highness. I believe I am one of several people who are well qualified for the job. But due to shared past experiences, well, I think he'll have a harder time slipping away from me than from an older man. Or a younger man who doesn't know him so well."

Randor nodded, and took his seat. "Well said, Raon. Please, sit down." Seeming slightly startled by the change of tone, the sergeant complied. "I had given this some thought myself just before the most recent crisis." Grimacing, the king went on. "Which has only made the need more apparent. Sergeant, do you have a proposal for how you would go about guarding my son?"

The young soldier nodded, blinking slightly. "Yes, your highness. I thought that, with five others, a rotating schedule could be worked out."

"So you have thought this through," Randor said musingly. "I'm glad to see that, though it's only what I would expect from Rogar's son." Raon squared his shoulders, clearly pleased at this favorable comparison with his father. "Have you anyone in mind?"

"Actually, yes. I had thought Quick-Wing, Raven, Felinar, Pirschan and Nalineph. I've worked with all of them, and I think they could all work together well."

Randor nodded thoughtfully. An Andrenid, an Avian and a Qadian? He hadn't thought of that but it would please their allies. He'd have to look into their records, and perhaps consult Buzz-Off and Stratos. "Pirschan? Are you sure? What about Trothum?"

Raon's eyebrows raised, and he seemed to be searching for words. "He is an excellent soldier, sire, but I don't think he and Adam would - I think their personalities would mix poorly."

"Really?"

"They used to have frequent disagreements when they were boys," Marlena added.

"Oh, yes, thank you. That's a good point. Well, Sergeant Raon, I will give it some thought and get back to you. Where are you on the duty roster today?"

"I've been detached from my unit to guard the prince, actually. When Man-at-Arms came to give me my instructions, I made my suggestion."

"I see. Well then, take your post and ask Duncan to come here."

"Yes, sire." Raon saluted and left the room.

"What do you think, Randor?" Marlena asked, getting up and walking around to the chair opposite the desk.

"I think I need to get a better idea of the people he suggested so I can make a more informed decision. Have you any alternate suggestions, my dear?" She shook her head, so he wrote a note to send off to the Records Office. By the time Duncan arrived, he and Marlena were looking over the files of Raon's suggestions as well as his own.

"Yes, your highness?"

"We have a King's Guard, Duncan," Randor said. "I do believe we need to organize an Heir's Guard. You must admit that Adam is in dire need of further protection." Duncan looked at the piles of files on his desk with raised eyebrows.

"I'm not sure what Adam will think of that, Randor."

"I have a feeling I know what he'll think of it," Randor said. "I know how I reacted when you insisted on providing me with a guard of my own. But I can't let it stop me from doing what I know is right, any more than you let my dismay stop you." He gave Duncan a curious look. "You aren't seriously suggesting that I disregard Adam's safety, are you?"

"Of course not. But you were much older when this necessity came upon you. Adam is still very young, and there are freedoms he won't want to give up."

"I know," Randor said, his brows wrinkling.

"He shouldn't have to give up any freedoms, Duncan, I agree," Marlena said unexpectedly. "But the times, much as I hate to say it, don't allow for that. Adam will just have to accept that there are limitations on him."

When Adam woke up again, he was annoyed with himself. How could he have fallen asleep again, this time in the middle of a conversation with this father? He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and looked around. His father was gone, Cringer was back, sleeping beside him, and Raon stood by the windows, gazing out.

"What are you doing here?" Adam asked, yawning and sitting up.

Raon turned, and gave him an odd grin. "Guarding you." He lifted his hands in a strange gesture and spoke a word that sounded oddly familiar. Bolts of verdant fire shot from his fingers to the windows and the door, outlining them briefly in green light. Adam stared for an instant, then threw himself over Cringer and off the side of the bed, scrabbling beneath it for his sword. Cringer woke up as Adam dove over him, and rose, fur bristling, glaring at the imposter. He gathered himself for a leap, but the imposter laughed in Raon's voice and sent a blast of energy that threw the cat spinning into a wall. Adam found his sword, and shot to his feet, naked steel in his hand.

The imposter clutched at his chest mockingly and exclaimed, "I'm so terrified! The young prince is threatening me." He shifted form suddenly, a bizarre liquid melting that made Adam's insides lurch, and he found himself again staring at himself. "How long do you suppose it would take them to figure out which was who if I beat you bloody and then swapped your clothes for mine?"

Adam didn't say anything. He was too busy trying to figure a way out of this. He didn't dare become He-Man with the imposter in the room, though there was a certain temptation to it, trading one transformation for another. Someone rattled the doorknob fruitlessly, but when the door didn't open at once, they began pounding. "Adam? Adam! Are you okay?" It was Raon, Adam thought. The real Raon. The pounding stopped, and Adam could hear alarmed voices discussing options outside.

He got a better grip on his sword and started toward the imposter, who stood his ground, watching him in amused silence. When he was three feet away, the imposter raised a hand and spoke, blasting him back against the wall. The doorknob slammed into his elbow. The Power Sword spun out of his grasp, and with a word, the imposter summoned it to his hand. "I don't think you'll be needing this, Adam. Not any longer." He tossed it onto one of the beds and started toward him.

Adam dragged himself to his feet, trying to dodge around the villain to reach his sword, but his legs gave way beneath him as he started to run. Something slammed into the wall to his left, making the building shake, but the wall held firm. The imposter laughed and kept up his slow approach to Adam. "Don't you think they'll be shocked when they finally get in here to find that you are a smoldering pile of ashes?" Adam grabbed the first thing that came to hand, a small table that stood beside the door and threw it at the imposter. He caught it with hands that were already ablaze with heat and it charred in his grip. He tossed it aside and it shattered against the floor. Another crash sounded against the wall opposite the beds, and Adam hoped they could get through. "Don't look for rescue, boy! It's not coming." The imposter was almost upon him.

Pushing off against the wall behind him, Adam launched himself his attacker, aiming at his shins with his shoulder. As the man fell forward, Adam scrambled out into the middle of the room to avoid the fiery hands.

The imposter slammed into the wall and caught himself, dampening the heat of his hands to keep from setting the walls on fire. When he turned, his eyes were full of fury. "Are you trying to make this harder on yourself?"

"What?" Adam exclaimed incredulously as he pulled himself back toward the bed where his sword was lying. "I should just sit and wait for you to kill me?"

"I really rather like that idea." He sent another blast of energy that caught Adam at the ribs and lifted him. He crashed back into the windows. The glass shattered, cracks spidering out from the impact, but the weasel's spell held it in place. Adam landed hard, his head smacking against the window frame as he fell.

He struggled to a sitting position as the weasel came toward him again. His head was splitting, and with the waves of dizziness that went through him, there was no way he was getting up to meet the attack. He just stared in horror as the imposter's hands heated up again.

There was a great rending noise from the other side of the room, and Ram-Man came barreling in, head down, driving right through the wall opposite the beds. Raon and several other guards came running in behind him. The other guards stopped, staring at the imitation prince, looming over Adam who was still leaning up against the wall. They were clearly uncertain what to do. Raon, however, launched himself straight at the imposter and knocked him down.

"Be careful of his hands!" Adam yelled, but the spell seemed to dissipate when the imposter's head hit the floor. Raon grabbed the weasel around the neck with one hand and forced the corner of a blanket into his mouth to keep him from speaking. Jonis ran up with a syringe in hand and plunged it deep into the imposter's arm, sending some drug or another into his system. As the weasel's struggles weakened, Adam found he could breathe again, and he saw the Dorgan was kneeling next to him. His father and Man-at-Arms ran in through the hole in the wall and stopped short at the sight that greeted them.

"Adam!" his father cried and fell to his knees beside his son. Adam looked up at him weakly.

"I'm okay, Dad. Really." Dorgan was examining his head with gentle hands, and Adam winced as he reached the lump that was rapidly rising on his scalp. "I just hit my head a little." Duncan towered over his father. "Man-at-Arms, could you go check on Cringer? Over by the bed." He nodded and followed Adam's pointing finger.

"I've got him sedated," Adam heard Medic Jonis report. "Who is this?"

Raon's voice responded, "An imposter, a shapeshifter." Jonis whistled in surprise.

Dorgan was looking in Adam's eyes and checking his reflexes. "Get him moved up onto the bed," Dorgan ordered. "And get that monster out of here. Jonis, keep him unconscious and tied down until we can work out what to do with him!"

Manny and Mekanek, who'd arrived at some point, though Adam couldn't remember when, supervised the prisoner's removal. His father and Raon lifted Adam onto a bed. Duncan grabbed the sword out of the way as they lowered him to the mattress. A cracking noise from the windows caused them all to jump, and Randor threw himself, cloak spread, across Adam as the shards of glass from the broken windows came crashing down. Adam heard Dorgan cursing loudly and calling for a stretcher. Randor stood up slowly, carefully, trying to keep any of the glass that coated him from landing on Adam.

"All right," Dorgan snapped. "You two, get the king out of those clothes and treat the cuts on his legs. You two, take the prince into exam room three and see to it that his mother can find him. You three, get the cat up and check him out. Make sure he's all right and then bring him into the prince's room. The rest of you, find other work to be doing! Move!"

Raon still stood beside Adam's bed, with cuts on his face from the falling glass. "I will stay with Prince Adam."

"Very good, Sergeant," Randor said, while he allowed his cloak to be removed by the medics Dorgan had assigned to the task. "I'll be in as soon as I'm changed."

Adam wished the world would stop swinging back and forth. "Don't fall asleep, Adam," Dorgan said. "You're concussed. You need to stay awake."

"I'll try," Adam said. "But I've been falling asleep all the time lately."

"Sergeant, if you're going to insist on staying, talk to him. Keep him from falling asleep."

Raon looked down at Adam with his eyes wide. "Um, well, Adam." An idea seemed to come to him, and he said, "So, Adam, what do you think of Lady Marel?"

"Huh?" Adam said, wrinkling his eyebrows.

"Well, I heard she likes you. So what do you think of her?"

Randor stood still as the medics carefully shook the glass out of his clothes and tried to determine how best to undress him. They decided that, rather than dragging the glass covered fabric across his skin, they were going to cut the clothes off him. Duncan stood watching, arms folded.

Resigned to this indignity, Randor turned to his man at arms and raised an eyebrow. "So, Duncan, I left you with him. Just how did this happen?"

"I don't know. Raon came and told me that you'd sent him back and that I was released. I took care of a couple of other small matters, then went to see you."

"Wait, you took care of other matters? Didn't Raon tell you to come to me immediately? I told him to."

Duncan shook his head. "No, Randor. He just said that he was sent to take over guarding Adam. Since that was his duty, I wasn't surprised, but he didn't say anything about you." His eyes closed and he sighed. "At least, I thought it was Raon."

"I see." Randor pursed his lips. "How are we going to keep someone with that sort of ability prisoner, Duncan?"

"I don't know."

Once his clothes were cut away, Randor pushed out of the grip of the medics and went into the bathing chamber adjoining the room. He stepped into the bath and sluiced himself down thoroughly with water, then seized a towel and began drying himself off. Pulling on the robe that hung on the door, he brushed the medics aside again and walked across to the room where Adam lay, followed closely by Duncan. When one of the medics tried to protest, he said, "Bring your supplies in with you, but I am going to see my son."

When he arrived, he found Raon standing beside the bed, regaling Adam with tales about the antics of the young nobles at court. Adam seemed weak, and his eyes were half-closed, but he kept asking questions. Marlena sat on the other side of the bed holding Adam's hand. Cringer lay on the bed next to his master, leaning against his side. Dorgan looked up and saw the king. Walking over, he gestured at the hovering medics and said, "See, Randor, you're a terrible patient. Sit down and let them work on you. Adam is going to be fine."

"His concussion?"

"Not serious, thank the elders." Dorgan drew Randor to a chair and sat him down. "He just needs rest. I'm keeping him awake for the moment, to make sure he's all right. But you don't need to worry." Dorgan looked at his face, and snorted. "There's little chance of stopping you from worrying, though, isn't there?"

"This would be easier if he were on his stomach," one of the medics said anxiously to Dorgan. Sighing Randor stood up and let them lead him out to another exam room. Dorgan stayed with Adam, however, for which Randor was grateful. He didn't feel like being lectured by the old healer just now.

If he'd let Duncan send for Teela, the imposter would have had less success sending her away. She might even have seen through his disguise. Of course, she might be dead now as well. Randor gritted his teeth. If only they hadn't saved the worthless creature at the edge of the abyss! But, no, they were better people than that. They didn't allow people to die if they could save them, no matter what scum they were. That monster was here even now, in another room of this infirmary, still looking like Adam. Still appearing to be his son. Randor started to get up.

"Your highness, please, let us finish."

"Yes, Randor," Duncan said. "I know how frustrated you are, but -"

Randor pushed himself up so that he could look Man-at-Arms in the face. "Duncan, get back to your lab and work out a way to keep that vile abomination from getting away from us again! I want to know you have an impenetrable cage ready for him before we allow him to awaken."

Duncan stared at him for a moment, then nodded sharply and left. Randor subsided onto the exam table and simmered, wishing he could just abandon his morals, his principles and just go in there and snap that monster's neck.

When the medics were convinced that they had him bandaged up thoroughly, Randor got up and pulled on some clothes that had been fetched from his room. Then he went into the imposter's room and looked down at the image of his son that lay there, strapped to the exam table, dressed in a guard's uniform. He looked surprisingly sweet and innocent with his personality absent. This only increased Randor's desire to throttle the repulsive little ferret.

A medic approached him, and said, "Sire, I don't understand. Prince Adam is in exam three, but he's in here, too?"

Randor turned to the medic, and his expression must have been frightful for she shrank back. "He is a sadistic torturer and abductor of children." Her eyes widened, and he saw that his words had caused several others in the vicinity to stop what they were doing and stare. "He is also a shapeshifter. An imposter who has been masquerading as my son for some time."

"In fact, Jala, if he begins to stir, you are to jab this into him," Dorgan said, walking up behind Randor and placing a syringe on a nearby table. "He's a sorcerer, and we don't dare take the chance on him casting a spell until we come up with a better way to control him." Medic Jala nodded, and gazed with alarm at the unconscious man.

Randor turned and left the room. "Send for Man-E-Faces and Buzz-Off," he ordered. Dorgan came up next to him. "Why aren't you with Adam?"

"He's fine, Randor. I've let him go to sleep now. Someone will stay with him to observe him, but he will feel much better in the morning."

"In the morning? It's barely mid-afternoon."

"We'll give him some glop when he's been asleep for awhile."

"Dorgan, is he going to be all right? I mean, really all right?"

"Yes, Randor. If he can manage not to get attacked for awhile. Say another three months of recuperation and he should be fine."

"Three months!" Randor went to look in Adam's door at his peacefully sleeping son. "It seems such a long time."

"I know, Randor. But rest assured, he will again be able to fulfill his normal duties. In the meantime, he needs rest and –"

"I'm not concerned about his duties, Dorgan! I'm concerned about my son!" Dorgan raised his brows.

"Well, I'm pleased to hear it."

Randor glared at the cantankerous old healer and turned as the door to the infirmary opened, admitting Buzz-Off and Man-E-Faces. "Thank you for coming so promptly. I would like the two of you, along with other members of the guard with keen senses of smell, to organize a guard over the imposter."

"So he has been captured?" Manny asked eagerly.

"Yes. Sergeant Raon of the guard and Ram-Man captured him."

"That's marvelous!" Buzz-Off exclaimed. "Where is the evil vulture now?"

Randor led them to the room and let them see the imposter. "By the Elders," Manny murmured. "He really does look like Adam."

"Yes, unfortunately. We're keeping him sedated while Man-at-Arms comes up with a way to keep him locked up and out of trouble."

"I see," Manny said. "I think between us, Buzz-Off and I can round up enough Andrenids and Qadians to keep a solid guard on him." Buzz-Off nodded.

"Then I will leave it in your capable hands." Randor walked back out into the main room of the infirmary and was contemplating what else he needed to accomplish before he collapsed. The strain of his own injuries was beginning to tell on him. He noticed without paying much attention as Teela entered the infirmary and walked toward the room that he had shared with Adam the previous night. Dorgan had been shadowing him for the last few minutes, and finally Randor turned on him. "What do you want, Dorgan?"

"You are still recuperating yourself, your highness. You need to rest."

Randor shook his head and waved the healer away. "I will, but there is one thing more I want to do before –"

Teela came running back into the room and cried, "Where's Adam? What happened?" Randor looked into her frightened face and realized abruptly that she must not know about the most recent attack.

"It's all right Teela," he said, walking over to her and putting his hands on her shoulders. "He's fine. He was attacked, but he's fine."

"Was it the imposter?" she demanded.

"Yes, but –"

Her eyes were alarmed as she gazed into his. "He didn't burn him again, did he? Adam's all right?"

"Yes, Teela, he's –" A terrible cry sounded from Adam's room. Randor released Teela and ran to his son's side.

Adam was sitting up in bed staring at nothing and breathing hard. Marlena was trying to get him to lie back down, but she was having no luck. Adam was tense as a bowstring and seemed caught in the throes of some remnant of terror from whatever dream had awakened him. Randor moved to his other side, and, sitting on the edge of the bed, put his hands on Adam's shoulders. At his touch, something seemed to snap and Adam looked into his face. Then, with a hoarse cry, he crumpled against his father's chest. Randor took him in a tight embrace as Adam began to sob tearlessly. A worried Cringer curled up around Adam's back, licking his arm.

Marlena joined them on the bed, and put her arms around Adam as well. Teela eyes were horrified as she watched them. Dorgan rushed up behind her and stopped when he saw the tableau. Sobs wracked Adam's body, and they weren't lessening. He clutched at his father and could not be comforted. Randor's world shrank to his arms holding his son as he murmured words of solace to the boy.

He had no idea how much time had passed when Adam's sobs began to diminish and he finally fell back to sleep. Randor was, himself, exhausted. Marlena drew back and urged Cringer out of the way as Randor lay Adam back down on the bed and stretched out beside him. He felt someone removing his boots as he fell asleep.