Chapter 7: Next Chapter

Tom's return to the palace evinced no interest from anyone, they were quite used to his coming and going, often at strange times of the night or day when everyone else was either asleep or engaged in pursuits that prevented them from leaving their rooms.

He made for his bedroom with the intention of getting rid of his burden. This was how he had come to see the parchment, a burden of the worst kind. It had seemed heavy although it weighed nothing. A mental strain accompanied it whenever he was anywhere near the thing.

He found a drawer in his anteroom and put it to the back. Shutting the drawer, he felt tired beyond his years. A tiredness that laid on him like a blanket, blotting out his vitality. He undressed and went to bed even though dinner would be served in half an hour or so. Sleep took him to places of exaltation; he was the king, the ruler of all he surveyed. A dream he had never had before.

He remembered the dream when he at last woke. Darkness had cover come the land, blotting out the outlines of the surrounding buildings almost completely. Streetlamps had been lit and the shops and vendors had packed it in for the night. He was hungry. Not an unusual feeling for him. This hunger though, was like he had been toiling all day in the fields or something equally rigorous.

The dream raised questions in his mind that he forcefully put to one side until the immediate needs of fuelling his body were fulfilled. After wrapping himself around enough food to fill the bellies of two or three men, he returned to the dream. For some time, he had been thinking, what was he going to do with his life? He couldn't continue in his present situation. Oh sure, the comfort of palace life and lack of demands on him made for a comfortable life, but was that what he wanted? A firm answer came back to him. No. Under no circumstances could he be content with life as it was. After all, he had a mission of sorts. The largest part being, revenge for the indignity of being turned into a mouse. That still rankled. He also felt the need to move on. Find a niche that fitted him. Perhaps, his own little realm. Not a kingdom though. Too much like hard work. He had witnessed the weight that heaped upon Johan, even though he was running a comparatively small Kingdom compared to some of those in the northern territories. Admittedly, these were mostly made up of mountains and rocks, but the huge distances really only made it harder to control and easier for the less desirable elements to find shelter right within the heart of the seat of power. Tom didn't envy the northern kings their title or position. Neither did he envy Johan and his struggles.

He had also watched the ease that Sebastian employed. Leadership seemed to fit him like a well-worn suit. He commanded respect and had a presence that brooked no nonsense. Although Johan and Sebastian were cousins, nothing much in common was shared apart from both funding a town born out of an inherited fight.

Although Sebastian had a relatively easy life, Tom still didn't want to emulate him in any way. Thoughts of usurping either kingdom were quashed before they even started. It occurred to Tom that Johan's kingdom might easily be annexed into Bretton, become an extension. Once the thought was out, it grew and developed a life of it's own. Sebastian didn't need tutoring as far as Tom knew. And, if he broached the subject carefully, perhaps, just perhaps, there might be a position for him. Governor always sounded good. Governor Tom. He tried the title out loud to see how well it fitted. It felt fine.

Tom wasn't aware that, although on slightly differing wavelengths and motives, he and Sebastian were thinking similar thoughts at the same time.

Sebastian was just finishing his morning ablutions. Washed and dressed with the removal of the stink of the evenings plaything, he felt refreshed. He was quite pleased she had gone before he had woken. Even in a drunken condition, she had been bloody ugly and smelled of cheap perfume. Eau de skunk came to mind. How her husband put up with it beat him. No wonder the poor fool had begged him to give her one. Just one night away from her must have been sheer bliss. The reasoning for his spending an unpleasant night with her, was in the hope that she might fall, get pregnant. Her husband had given up years before, but it was probable that this was from sheer revulsion.

Sebastian had treated her horribly, forced her to act like a dog. The rightness of the sight not lost on him. She looked as if she should actually walk around on all fours. (It might be construed by reading this, that the author has a poor opinion of women as a species. Not so. Please be assured that I have a very high regard for the female of the race, but do recognise that, in both factions, beauty is not compulsory.)(I do know some very lovely women and have even had the pleasure of marrying one, but they can be counted on one hand with change from five fingers.) She wouldn't get pregnant by him, oh! No, he had made sure of that. Couldn't have a bastard son and heir vying for the crown.

This time of the day, when he was allowed to spend an hour or so for his own pleasures was the best part. It was all very well sharing your bed for the good of the kingdom and in the name of keeping your Noble's happy, but it is nice to have some private time to contemplate and reflect on things not related to ruling or adjudication. His thoughts returned to the method of extracting enough of Bretton's resources to add to his private accounts so that he could effect his dream of taking a hike and leaving the whole lot to whom ever was stupid enough to step into his shoes.

It hit him between the eyes. A lump hammer of an idea; Why not amalgamate the two kingdoms, ostensibly to pool their resources, but really to increase his chances of spiriting away enough of the funds for himself and his retirement fund. Perfect. As for the moron who was going to pick up the tab, well his cousin was thick enough he supposed, but, perhaps not thick enough not to mount some kind of search for him and he probably would find him. Sebastian's luck ran like that. He was under no illusions. Johan might have the reasoning capability of an eight year old child. But, like an eight year old, he was given to fits of impetuosity, especially when things didn't go his way.

This, he would have to give some thought to. Have Johan bumped off and replace him with... Who? The bumping off was the easy bit. The guy really enjoyed his food, easy to introduce some kind of additive that would assist in his falling off the mortal coil. He knew the very stuff. Bloody quick action, looked like severe indigestion, very severe, the worst kind. He thought that some might just be lurking behind one of the ottomans that lined his bedchamber. The strange thing was that a further dose cured one of the effects of the first dose. It paid to be one step ahead in the game.

Sebastian got dressed, choosing his attire carefully for effect. Today was traditionally when he dealt out the lots for the feudal lords. Blood red and gold had just the dramatic effects of saying; you do as your told or you won't be missed and your blood on this robe won't show. It seemed to work to great effect.

Several hours passed, the usual diatribe of complaints, pledges (usually unfulfilled, ) oaths of allegiance and pleas of more, came by his throne room. He felt peculiarly benign. Giving away more than was his usual wont. Several lords came away shaking their heads. What the bloody hell where they going to do now? All this land and no bugger to work it? The pleas mostly were ruses to keep his mind occupied and stop him requesting more from less. They would have to employ from outside, perhaps, overseas. Costovian labourers were notoriously hard to control, speaking a foreign language as they do and having those peculiar customs with women. Not legal in civilized countries, but they didn't see the problem. If it was female, then screw it. Probably accounted for some strange shaped sheep in their native land. They called them goats, but... well, goats have horns don't they? Horribly hairy women anyway.

A Page sidled up to the throne. It seemed everyone sidled these days since the clearout. Sebastian's bum was numb from sitting in one position for too long. He looked down on the Page, hoping this would be some kind of diversion. It was.

"Sire, there is a message from Bretton." The Page quivered, he was new like most of the Palace personnel. "It has been placed in you anteroom Sire." The Page looked around at the rest of the people waiting for an audience and shook noticeably. At least one of the freemen would have been looking for him up to a month or so ago. His willy had been busy, being that he was a good looking chap and some of the recently, unexplained population explosion, might be attributed to him personally. He had taken the job of Page on the advice of an Elder who could see the end of him coming quickly and in the form of a night time stabbing at the very least. He gulped and turned back to Sebastian, who hadn't moved a muscle. "Sire, did you want me to fetch it for you?"

"Before you do that small thing, I suggest that you show in the customary manner, the proper respect due to you king and protector." Sebastian's stare showed little emotion. "You can consider yourself a very fortunate young man. I'm in a good mood for now, but that can change. Rapidly."

The threat registered on the Page who suddenly remembered his training like a blinding revelation. He dropped to the ground on his front as if poleaxed. His supplication complete and sincere. His mistake should have cost him his job in the very least. His head felt quite insecure. It would be even less secure if he made the same mistake at any other time. Relying on Sebastian's moods was similar to waiting for an eclipse of the sun. You know it's going to happen, just not when.

He backed out of the throne room and retrieved the message from Sebastian's anteroom at a lick. He returned just as quickly, remembering to throw himself on the floor first before Sebastian's eyes beheld him. He offered the small scrap of parchment that had been taken off the carrier pigeon a little while before.

Sebastian took it from him without glancing in his direction. His admonishment should serve as enough of a reminder of his authority. He did look at the scrap of a message. The writing was unfamiliar to him, but that was hardly surprising. Johan could only just about put two letters together and his scribe, laughably so called, wasn't worth spit. He began to read and soon realised that the Magician was the author. He was requesting an audience on a private and important issue. In normal souls, a message with cryptic connotations would evince some intrigue, some interest, not Sebastian though, just the usual, run of the mill invitation into the rank and file's little lives. Didn't they have any inkling of the position and, therefore, the issues that being a king brought? Why on earth should he be remotely interested in what some small time serf had to say? He put it to one side and promptly forgot about it.

The days business closed. His buoyant mood had dissipated, being replaced by the usual fug that plagued him. The afternoon had been set aside for some arms practice. His men at arms tried, on a weekly basis, to improve their expertise with the Pike and Staff. Usually, he would join them. Although he didn't have the brutish strength and practice that his cousin was so proud of, he could handle himself. Also, unlike Johan, he preferred the mock battles to be equal in so much as allowing his opponent to be able to strike him without fear of losing his bonce.

Clarence, now Captain of the Guard, strode over to Sebastian, their friendship had remained in tact all through the fairly recent turnout of personnel. He still treated his friend and King with the honour due to his station. He saluted and offered his wooden sword pommel first. "Care for a little action my Liege?"

"Not today Clarence, I'm too busy being miserable." Sebastian hunkered down further into the ermine stole and glowered from under the fur trimmed hat. "Who's the woman?"

"Ah! That's Hannah. She's been training some of the men. Splendid creature isn't she?

Sebastian looked at her and thought that he hadn't seen so much woman since last night. Though last nights offering was far from fat. This woman was huge everywhere, muscles rippled under every inch of her tanned and almost naked body. "Urgh!" Sebastian wasn't impressed, but could see the open admiration Clarence had for her as she upended another of his finest, without moving more than an inch or two.

Clarence was in love. What a woman. What an absolutely wonderful woman. Sebastian could hear the muttered thoughts, but even if they had not been audible, the sentiment was loud and clear on his face.

Clarence left Sebastian to his thoughts and wandered over to where Hannah was laying waste to his men with ease. He waited his turn and then adopted a fighters stance, issuing his challenge with a guttural snarl of mock fury. She spun on her heels and crouched easily with her feet set apart, ready to take what ever action was needed to avoid his rush. Clarence did rush, for all the world as if he was going to sweep her off her feet. But, he was an older warrior, he knew a trick or two of his own and waited until she committed to an action, before altering his method of attack at the very last moment. Instead of bringing his stave around at knee level, he angled it down, aiming the end at her ankles. She skipped over the blunted end and swung her own stave in an arc to whack him on the back as he passed by. But it was a trick he had learned and stopped in mid stride, to pirouette on his axis and pushed at her midriff, while trapping the lead foot, she fell on her backside in the packed earth of the practise arena. He shouted in triumph, thinking her had bested her, but didn't see the sweep of her trailing left leg, which caught him behind the knees and brought him down on top of her.

"You're dead." She announced in his ear. "The dagger, if I had unsheathed it, would have cut your heart out by now."

Clarence looked down to the point where he could feel the covered end of a wicked looking short knife poking between his second and third ribs.

"Ceded lady. You fight dirty." He got up and offered his arm to pull her up, but she rolled over and on to her feet in one fluid motion.

"Congratulations, you did infact, catch me out with the stop, I liked that, we shall have to practice more on that move."

Clarence left the planet and entered orbit around her being. His love was now complete, he was hopelessly snared in a trap of jumbled thoughts and feelings.

"I should like that my lady." He at last managed to say.

Sebastian watched from his perch at the end of the arena, as she lifted his Captain off his feet and carried him out of the battle zone, under her arm. His thoughts were still squarely on the small problem of getting his hands on some cash, and fast. If he had to spend too much more time running this little, shit for brains, outfit, he would go stark, staring, raving, mad.

No ideas had come to him, try as he might, there was no way he could increase his personal fortune in a hurry. The treasury had had closed up shop. Only the trusted members of the committee of which he was one, with some closely tried members of the Traders Guild. Some of the few who hadn't left for pastures new in the mass exodus of prominent families. He had very little say in what the meagre funds would be used for. He could make applications the same as the rest. Any decisions had to be voted on, but in any case, there was hardly enough to keep the ship afloat.

What he needed was spare wealth. No such thing really, but that was what he needed. Spare cash, that nobody had a claim to. It was like trying to find Rocking Horse shit. In fact the latter, would be easier to find.

So effective had been the clearout of the dross of his former cabinet and hangers on, that now it was difficult to even jiggle change in you pocket without someone raising an eyebrow and wanting to find out where the cash came from. Even the cutpurses had given up the practice and become honest citizens

So the chance of spare cash falling into his hands was quite remote. He would have to generate his own luck, make something happen to his advantage for a change. The only source he could think of was going to come from his cousins realm. But, he had no way of getting to their funds either. The shop was just as closed.

He wondered off the practice area and made his way to his chambers to think some more.

Agetha had had enough, her stay in the city had been interesting, and to some degree, informative. Her prowess in the art of sex had been taught many lessons regarding appetites, and the manner of just how people lived In the city, with all their small worlds, empires and small lives, with horizons that stopped at the city gates. Now was time to leave the city and return to the hovel in the forest. She had Matilda to bring up and teach, although, she seemed to be able to take care of herself, but Agetha knew that the child was undisciplined at all levels. Her personal hygiene was a cause for concern and the way she used the latent magic she carried, was appalling and indiscriminate. The child had an unhealthy attitude to property and the concept of ownership completely escaped her. If she wanted it, then she could see no reason not to have it. The rows and arguments Agetha had to sort out when a disgruntled person tried to claim their property back, were getting too tiresome and far too regular. Also, righting the undignified position of the said disgruntled person, and putting them back on their feet was becoming something of a bore.

Matilda had developed an interest in the rather darker ways of city life. She positively thrived on the tales of adventure, related in graphic detail by their neighbours who infested the quarter of the city where Agetha had taken up temporary residence. It was plainly obvious that the same neighbours could see the financial advantages of employing Matilda's special skills in getting into the most impossible places, and were harbouring designs on the girls immediate future.

So it was back to the hovel, the cat and some good old fashioned teaching. There was one thing though, that bothered Agetha, she wanted to see Tom again, for some reason, she had formed some sort of attachment to the silly bugger. She could see that he would never make wizard standard, but, in his own way, was endearing. She liked seeing him around, and her feelings toward him had altered somewhat. No longer was he just another man who was in her way or the subject of one kind of spell or other. She kind of thought that maybe, just maybe, she would like to have him around on a regular basis.

Her plans for the trip back home where on hold for a day or so, just till she saw him again at least. Trouble was, his visits were infrequent and always on his terms. She could never see him at the Palace, he was always too busy or the message she left, didn't get to him. Tom had an elevated position in the scheme of things. She felt that perhaps, he was where he wanted to be and in a position that suited him more than being some body's partner. He had rather more life than when he was a Baker, more money, power and all the pleasures any man could handle. Her little spell of infatuation only seemed to work when he was in the area. Out of sight, he reverted into the Tom she was becoming used to seeing in the city.

Agetha was also aware of the implications of becoming involved with Tom, or any man for that matter, but we shall not touch on that subject for awhile.

Three more days passed without Agetha seeing or hearing from Tom. She felt that the time had come, and began the preparations for the journey back. This time however, she had no intention of walking all the way back. Although the road had its excitement, or even, the occasional pitfall, Agetha decided to travel in style and bought a horse. It was cheap and it became abundantly clear, you get what you pay for. It didn't occur to Agetha, that she could just as easily get home in a fraction of the time by her own special method of travel, that included the services of either the fallen apart bicycle or any other form of inanimate transportation. If she so wished, she could even have cast a teleportation spell, but really, she wanted the time on the road to think about hers and the child's future. The broken down nag would do, and no body would try and steal it anyway, if they had any sense.

Matilda had other ideas, she had become quite good at making her own space and had collected a small band of followers, children of the surrounding district who had been left to their own devices or thrown out of family homes as extra to use, one mouth too many to feed.

The same extra mouths had questionable parentage. Thieves and prostitutes gave birth to more of the same. The offspring had no other choice but to follow in the footsteps of their mothers, and so, crime begets crime. Matilda had no intention of following Agetha's lead. Not for her to become some harrowed hag in some backwater. She had plans, far to many for her age, but plans all the same. She liked city life, liked the prospects it offered. This was a place a girl could really make a mark on. Going home was, unfortunately, the only option open to her for the time being, but one day, oh! One day, she would return and create her own empire. Just have to fix the face a bit.

The road beckoned and Agetha and Matilda set off towards home and a learning curve for Matilda. She had a resolve now and a goal to work towards, gleaning her mothers mind of information was a step on the way. The trip was uneventful and only took a couple of weeks. Nothing had changed at the hovel, the dust still swirled and light still bounced off the windows at right angles. The cat had kept the place as it should be, a mess.

He was pleased to see them. Purring loudly, he jumped into Agetha's arms and made a fuss of her. She in turn, did the same, stroking him and rubbing in between his ears at the place he could not reach. He regarded Matilda and decided, he still didn't trust the child and would be better leaving her to herself. She had grown though and was taking some of her mothers features, the less attractive ones. He thought she would be just like Agetha in time. Agetha though, surprised him a little, she had remained in reasonable condition. Her appearance had stayed on the side of presentable and there seemed to be none of the rolling acres of blubber forming. Even her clothing had lasted the distance, albeit coated in travelling dust. The most surprising thing about Agetha though, was the apparent change in her attitude to life and all things connected. Over a period of days, he noticed a complete lack of wickedness in her. The house was cleaned from top to bottom. Long term trapped creatures serving sentences for misdemeanours were freed and released to return to lives long forgotten. They wandered off in different directions, mostly not the ones they had come from years before. She sang a lot. He had never heard this before unless it was part of some incantation, these days, she sang for entertainment, not his though. Changed she may have been, but as a singer, she still sounded like finger nail extraction, only more painful to the ears.