A/N

this is an original story and i hope to use it later. the plot is my creation, and(though it is a bit twisted)i hope to use it later and really publish a version of it.

this is where we learn all about prince Henric

he is a dark brooding charactor, so dont expect to judge him straight up. he takes some time to understand, his father blew his chances of becoming king, he is beset upon by traitors and there is possibly a rebelion brewing, he needs to be cut some slack!

give him a chance, (i wont say if he turns out ok in the end but the way he's developed does not give clues.)

enjoy!


Chapter 8

Prince Henric

'Prince Henric is looking for Zan's daughter again'

Anyé looked down from the window. The guards on night duty 2 stories below her were talking, skipping pebbles in the nearby moat.

'Really?' said one 'I thought they had pronounced her dead?'

'They did, several times in fact, but he won't listen.' the other guard said, shaking his head with a sigh.

'If he does find her, he most likely will marry her, so he can be king. You know, that's why he's called prince, he wasn't the heir to the throne see, so he, or his descendants can't be called kings.'

'That so? He doesn't have any real power does he?' questioned the first guard.

'That's the funny part, he says he does, but he keeps searching for the real princess, as if he needs her!' they both laughed.

'Well, as long as no one knows, why don't we go down to the Silver Mug and get some ale? We won't be gone too long.'

'All right, but just one.' they left still talking and Anyé went back to work. As she chipped away at the mortar, she began to feel dizzy and breathless. She pulled herself away from the window, and perched herself on the cot. She began to feel the fog of a vision clouding up her senses, obscuring the real smells, sounds and sights with those of a different time and place.

Across Tarelia, in the palace of the former King Zan, a handsome young man was storming about in a fury.

The man's golden hair and fair blue eyes were gifts from his mother, though she did not live to see them. His cunning analytical mind, was the only priceless item his father had bestowed upon him, well... that and his awful temper.

Prince Henric paced the floor of his thinking chamber; it was ironic that it had once been the baby princess' room.

'If my father had managed to do things right for once, I wouldn't have this problem! Don't you agree?' he looked over at his silent attendant.

'Of course you don't,' he ranted on, sweeping his golden waves of hair out of his face. 'It's not your job, your not paid to speak, I have stupid courtiers who do that for free.' he picked up a metal gauntlet off a small table, and put it on his hand, flexing it and watching the chain mail ripple.

He roared in rage and punched the wall, cracking the faerie, hand painted on to the irreplaceable marble tiles. He sighed, immediately calmed.

'Why me? Why didn't it work? Mortaro's plan was fool proof! And yet my father did not cooperate. Why didn't his plan work?'

'My lord,' his attendant raised his white gloved hand, and gestured to the broken tiles.

Henric nodded and watched. The servant picked up a small piece of tile and held it out to the prince. Henric was amazed, the tile had been shattered, but one painted figure remained, a faerie, arms tucked tightly around a pink bundle. Unmistakably, a baby.

'The plan failed because your father did not account that faeries can change form, thus, while his guards searched for a princess and a queen, a beggar woman and her sack of goods slipped past his ever watchful eyes.'

Henric nodded, he knew the old wives tales of his father's blunder. 'I know, but I'll find her. Just wait. Oh, and Frondo?'

'Yes my lord?'

'I have a feeling that you can give me some information that I want,' Henric whipped a sword off a nearby shelf, and tested its balance in his gloved hand. "Since you seem to know so much about the wizard insurgence…"

Frondo looked confused, "I don't know what you're…" the sword was at his throat.

Henric's blue eyes gleamed evilly, "I'm sure you do. Now, where might I find someone who might be able to break the curse?"

Frondo gulped, his Adam's apple pricked by the quivering sword point.

"I'll never tell, you won't win, he isn't cursed, and you'll never find the others." Frondo stated as bravely as he could. The point pricked his throat more viciously. "AAAHH!" gasped Frondo. "fine, fine! They are run by Rigel and—"

"Rigel is DEAD!" shouted Henric, jabbing the point once more.

"Edward," Frondo struggled with the words. "…Took his name… The apprentice…"

"Where are they? I know he must have that do-gooder Aldebaran, and his stupid whore Marianna is there behind him."

"He is in Hadsworth, but the others… They pretend to run a tavern on the border. They run the negotiations with Soren from there—"

"SOREN!" shouted Henric. This was news to him.

"What is that weakling doing now?"

"He wants to surrender his kingdom, but only to the real prince of Tollone. Is that all that you needed?"

'Yes thank you. But you know too much for a servant. And don't worry, I'll make sure the rest of your Tollonian friends wind up in nice cozy jail cells!'


A/N

Edward is the apprentice to that wizard who died in the prologue. he turns up later, but you wont guess! my sisters still havent figured it out, and they have a printed out copy from prologue to chapter 18! hahaha! i feel great knowing something you dont know!

keep reading and leave reviews with guesses!

thanks

D.L Shores