A Kingdom for Slimes Ch. 01

Prince Stathis leaned against the kitchen's stone wall beside a window and watched the royal chef's assistants prepare the day's harvest of raspberries into jam with mild envy. The entire kitchen seemed filled with the sweet scent of boiling fruit and the bubble of voices calling for ingredients. Every so often, the royal chef would poke his head into the work space and bark an order or two at the slower assistants, but aside from that rare intrusion, the prince was free to do as he wished. Well, more or less, he thought with a wry smile.

For a while, he had helped the assistants with the mashing of fruit. The task was simple and freed him, at least for a moment, of the shadow of responsibility. The royal chef had caught him at his game, though, and now he was relegated to the position of a mere spectator.

Stathis sighed gloomily. That was the problem with being a prince; a life of luxury had been placed in his lap, but none of it truly meant anything. And what was worth, he himself meant next to nothing. As the second son of the realm's king, he would eventually be put in charge of the cavalry or merchant's guild or, if he was lucky, the armada. None of those options, or any of the others open to a young man of his station, appealed to him in the slightest. If he had his way, in fact, he would just as soon join the apprentices here in the kitchen or a scholarly institution out in the remote countryside. Even a life of wandering would be better than what he had been handed, in his mind.

"Your Royal Highness," a familiar voice called from the window. "What are you doing in there?"

Stathis shrugged, inwardly bemoaning the fact he had been recognized despite his attempt at disguising himself. Rather than his usual opulent attire of silk and velvet, he was wearing a simple red tunic, cinched about the waist by a wide leather belt, and a pair of white breeches and high leather boots. "I'm watching the workers make jam. Come and join me if you would like, Elaine."

"I find that hardly befitting someone of your station," Elaine replied. "Surely there must be some other, more worthy pursuit you could be taking part in."

"I see nothing unworthy about a prince taking stock of his subjects, Elaine."

The woman sighed and disappeared from the window. A moment later, the kitchen door opened and she strode inside to stand beside her prince.

Unlike Stathis, Elaine had no need to disguise her identity. She wore white linen tunic and black breeches, the yellow surcoat embroidered with the image of a black falcon and edged in the same indicating her station as a knight of the realm. Over her relatively spartan garb, she wore a long black cloak, trimmed in white fur and beneath that, the gleam of a short sword could be glimpsed. Her blonde hair was worn loose for the moment, indicating she had been doing nothing other than searching for the prince all morning.

The two stood in relative silence for a long while. Finally, Stathis spoke up. "I would like to go into town today, Elaine."

"Do you plan to watch the stable hands shovel manure while you're there?"

"Perhaps, if the mood takes me. You are by no means obligated to come along."

"I think your father would say otherwise."

Stathis waved a hand dismissively. "A pox on him. He can say otherwise all he likes, but that does not change the fact that you swore fealty to me."

"I swore to protect you, Your Royal Highness," the knight pointed out politely. "My fealty was sworn to your His Majesty the king. Had you been paying attention in your lectures, you would have known this without needing my reminder."

"I have been paying attention in my lectures," the prince protested.

"If I may say so, the governess has claimed you miss more lessons than there are apples in the royal orchard."

"Perhaps, but I pay attention when I do make it."

"I believe the governess would prefer you pay attention at all the lectures, your Royal Highness."

"But Elaine, however am I to pay attention to lectures I'm not attending?" Stathis grinned at his own joke.

Elaine turned away so the prince wouldn't see her roll her eyes. "Were you planning to visit the town now, or are you still engrossed with watching the jam be made?"

Ignoring the sarcasm in the knight's tone, Stathis replied, "I think now is as good a time as any. As I said, you're free to remain behind. I doubt I will need any protection."

The knight kept stride with Stathis as he left the kitchen and stepped out into the orchard. "If danger could be easily predicted, you would need more astrologers than knights, Your Royal Highness. The way I see it, one more sword arm never hurt a prince."

"Suit yourself." Stathis swiped an apple from a tree as he passed. The fruit was perfectly ripe and slightly tart. In the privacy of his own heart, he admitted he was glad for her company.

The town was bustling at this time of year. Farmers fresh off the harvest had carted in wagon-loads of pumpkins, corn, and countless other late season crops. Merchants from the south, clad in their bright silks and jewelry, sold what wares they had left from tents set up outside the walls in the hopes of lightening their load for the trip home before winter struck and closed the mountain passes. The scents of baking bread, split logs, and wood smoke filled the air.

"What was it you wanted to do in the town, exactly?" Elaine asked. She had remained silent during the entire walk down the hill from the castle, a fact Stathis had been thankful for.

"Mostly to have some fun," the prince said with a smile.

The knight didn't find Stathis' statement the least bit reassuring. "Is this the same kind of 'fun' you got into the last time you were in town?"

The question drew the tiniest of worried twitches from the prince. He had hoped that Elaine would have forgotten about that particular incident. "I couldn't say," he replied. If he was vague, maybe she would let the matter drop for the time being. "I'm afraid the event you speak of has slipped my mind."

The knight frowned. "I will not bring the matter back up in so public a location, but please be mindful of any merchants claiming to sell talismans this time, Your Royal Highness."

"Of course, Elaine. With you at my side, I'm confident no harm will befall me." And nothing interesting, he added to himself. If left to his own devices, he might have gone to that very same talisman-maker. The last time had been some of the most fun he had experienced in years. What had made it truly memorable, however, was the way everyone in town had treated him after he'd slipped away from the castle without alerting his ever-faithful watchdog. Without the trappings of nobility, everyone had assumed he was just another traveling youth. That was the feeling he wanted to experience again, more than anything; to have the worries of his station lifted for even one day.

The two wandered from the edge of town into the narrow maze of streets that made up the northern portion of its market district. Lacquered signs hung above smoke-stained windows and creaked softly in the breeze. Pigeons roosted on the edges of roofs and flag poles, their soft calls an echo of the shouting merchants that had set up in the open squares farther south.

Elaine pointed to a nearby shop. The sign hanging overhead displayed an open book crossed by a quill pen. "You are in need of more parchment," she said. "This might be a good place to stop."

"You're right, Elaine," Stathis said with a nod.

The knight regarded her charge with new surprise and suspicion. "Truly? You don't even mean to complain or jest first?"

"Why would I? I agree that I need more parchment."

Flustered, Elaine followed the prince into the shop's dimly-lit interior. "The governess will be most pleased."

Stathis simply smiled in response. He had no intention of using this parchment for his studies, but Elaine didn't need to know that.

Inside, the shop's walls were lined with shelves displaying pens made from what appeared to be every bird known in the kingdom, and a good deal more. Sheaves of parchment gathered like snow in the corners. Massive books bound in leather and felt, some with gilding and some without, stood behind the counter. Strangely, no shopkeeper was in sight.

"Hello?" Elaine called, her normally stringent voice strangely muffled by the intervening paper.

"It appears no one is here," Stathis remarked.

The knight started to return to the door. "Perhaps we should try another shop..."

Before she could reach the handle, a diminutive shape burst out of a side-door that had been concealed by a large shelf of scroll cases. "Don't go! I'm here!" it squeaked, its plump arms waving frantically above its over-sized head.

Elaine turned her face up in disdain. "An imp? What did you do with the shopkeeper?"

The imp stood no more than half Stathis' height and had dull blue skin that appeared almost rubbery in the shop's twilight atmosphere. The white shirt, black vest, and matching trousers marked it as a merchant of some success, and the gold-rimmed spectacles perched on its hooked nose marked it as someone who spent too much time engrossed in the written word. "I am the shopkeeper," he squeaked indignantly.

"I suppose this parchment is all made of the skin of flayed humans, then. Come along, Your Royal Highness, we have no need of this creature."

The imp hopped angrily in place. "That's rude! Just because some imps flay humans doesn't mean all of us do! And even if I did - which I'm not saying is the truth - I wouldn't be selling those hides right back to humans."

"Nevertheless, I hardly think-"

"Hold on, Elaine. I just found something interesting." The prince lifted a small oak box off the shelf. Cradled inside amid folds of soft velvet was a pen made of a feather the likes of which Stathis had never seen. It was short and perfectly formed and, although appeared a matte black in the strong sunlight slanting through the front window, almost glowed with a rainbow pattern when held in shadow.

The imp waddled over to Stathis, nodding and smiling broadly. "Your taste belies your royal lineage, Prince."

"That's 'Your Royal Highness'," Elaine corrected, but nobody paid her any mind.

"The pen you've found is very rare. I only have the one."

"What bird gave its feather to make this?" Stathis asked.

"None other than the legendary boibhre, fabled serpent-bird of the misty lakes."

"I see. And you fought this bird yourself?" Elaine asked skeptically.

The imp snorted at the suggestion. "Not even in my dreams, Lady Knight. I'm a merchant, not an adventurer."

"Then how are we to know your claim is true?"

"Look at the sheen on this feather and you will see for yourself. How many birds do you know of that shine in darkness and hide their true colors in the sun?"

Elaine sighed but offered no further protest.

"How much is it?" Stathis asked the shopkeeper.

The imp looked from the pen to the prince's belt, where a coin pouch hung. "Normally, I wouldn't sell this pen to simply anyone. The pen is more than a pretty trinket, you see. Quills made of boibhre's feathers gather magic just as other pens draw up ink. For you, I can offer this for... ten gold coins."

At that, Elaine could keep her sullen silence no longer. "That is an outrage!" she exclaimed. "For that price, you might as well give us the entire shop."

The imp flinched back with a reproachful look. "My wares are worth more than that, Lady Knight."

"And how do you know my station, pray tell?"

The imp shrugged expansively and flashed a needle-toothed grin. "How could such a fact not be obvious, Lady? You practically radiate chivalry."

Elaine scowled and retreated back to the door, muttering something about needing to work on her disguises as she passed the prince.

With that distraction for the moment taken care of, the imp turned his attention back on Stathis. "So, Your Royal Highness, have I convinced you of this marvelous pen's many merits, or shall I go on?"

"No, no, you've convinced me. However-" the prince glanced back at Elaine before continuing, "there is one small matter."

The imp cocked his oversized head. "Go on."

"While I certainly agree that your shop is worth far more than ten gold coins, I can't help but think this specific pen, wondrous as it may be, could be had for slightly cheaper."

Sensing a duel of wits on the horizon, the imp's grin took on a more devious quality. "Well, what price do you imagine is fair, Your Royal Highness?"

Now it was Stathis' turn to smile. He might have been raised in the shelter of the castle walls, but he was no amateur when it came to haggling. "I wouldn't want to offer insult to your merchandise by appraising it too low. How much farther down from ten are you willing to go?"

"Fear not, my prince. You cannot possibly offer insult to this humble shop. Why, your very presence brings nothing but honor."

From her post by the front door, Elaine rolled her eyes.

Stathis's smile wavered ever so slightly. He knew the imp had gained the upper hand, at least for now. As the common saying went among southern merchants, "First price is first blood." To name the first price would almost certainly mean the prince would be walking out on the losing end of this duel. Still, he had a few more gambits ready. "Perhaps three gold coins? That is over triple the average quill pen and surely a fair price."

The imp reeled back, hand to his brow as if ready to keel over right then and there. "Three gold, my esteemed prince? By all the gods and then some, you wound me! Nine gold coins would be a much fairer bargain."

Stathis stood firm against the imp's theatrics. "Nine gold is hardly better than the ten. I will meet you halfway at six. Even you could find no fault in that offer."

"That is indeed a better offer than your outrageous three. However, I think you and I both know this feather alone would be worth that. Where I've already gone through the trouble of cutting the quill and fitting a nib, eight gold is the lowest I can go."

The prince sighed. He knew he had been beaten. To haggle any more would be to offer genuine insult to the shop and, imp though he was, Stathis had no intention of earning anyone's ire that day. Elaine's was more than enough to last him. "Very well," he said as he fished the eight shining circles out of his coin purse. "Eight gold coins it is."

The imp swiped the coins away and stowed bowed gratefully. "Thank you for your business, kind prince. If there is anything else I might be able to interest you in, just say the word."

"We're done shopping for the day," Elaine cut in, taking Stathis by the arm and steering him toward the front door.

The imp followed them out and watched them make their way down the street, waving in farewell all the while. A few passersby stopped to cast curious stares at the shopkeeper, but no one stopped the prince and his escort and soon, they were walking through the gates to the bazaar set up outside the city walls.

The colorful tents and enticing smells and sounds were every bit as fun as Stathis remembered. The slight chill in the late summer air carried a bittersweet quality, as it meant the great spectacle would soon be leaving for the year. Even so, Stathis couldn't quite muster the enthusiasm he had imagined he would back at the castle. The thought of the new pen and the promise it held kept drawing his attention from the present. After a time, he turned to Elaine and announced he was ready to go home for the day.

"I thought you had wanted to see the bazaar," she asked.

Stathis waved a hand dismissively over his shoulder. "The bazaar will likely still be here tomorrow. Besides, you should be glad we're leaving so soon. If I remember correctly, you were the one who didn't want to be here at all today."

Sighing, the knight hurried to catch up to her ward.

Evening seemed to fall more quickly than usual, partly helped along by the dark clouds that had drawn like curtains across the sky close to sunset. The slight chill became a cold breath that sent shivers down Elaine's spine as she made her way down the drafty north wing corridor. A large wool towel was draped over one arm and she had exchanged her daytime clothes for a knee-length tunic of white linen.

At last, the knight reached the end of the hallway and closed the thick wooden door behind her. Inside, the room was warmed by the silver-white clouds of aromatic steam wafting up from wide basins of water set in the tiled floor. While most of the castle was too practical for any magical enhancements, the bath rooms were one of the few exceptions. No matter the time of year, the water was always kept at a perfect temperature by the House Wizards. And while Elaine normally could do without the meddling of such snobs, tonight she was thankful for their skills in the arcane arts. Her muscles were weary from a day of following the prince around town and following that up with intense combat drills in the castle yard as a way of getting her frustrations out constructively.

Elaine shed her tunic and walked bare into the gently steaming waters. The warm embrace of the bath folded over her thighs and soft breasts, her hair fanning out behind her as she sank up to her neck and closed her eyes gratefully. As long as no one disturbed her, she could easily stay here for hours. And tonight, she planned to do just that.

As soon as he returned from his trip to the town, Stathis hurried to his private chambers and barred the door. He wasn't going to wait any longer to test this supposedly magical pen and no distractions would get in his way. Besides, there wasn't anything so pressing it couldn't wait until he had written a few lines on a scrap of parchment.

Once the prince had gathered the necessary ink and parchment and wiped the dust from his writing desk, though, he found himself facing an unexpected case of writer's block. Writing just anything seemed inappropriate for a pen with such a prestigious heritage. On his way back to his chambers, he had been mulling over countless different ideas, but now that he was ready to write, they all seemed garbage.

Sighing, he rearranged his inkwells and shuffled the sheets of parchment. The muffled sound of voices in deep conversation grew behind his door, then faded back again to silence as the speakers moved on. The brief interruption was just another reminder of the prince's restrictive life. Tomorrow, the governess would be out searching for him again, and he would be expected to make an appearance in the throne room to bow and smile at some noble or other he had never heard of and would likely never hear from again.

If he was going to write something, he might as well make it a wish. If the pen was really magical, maybe it would even help it come true. A small spark of light seemed to escape the quill as he dipped it into the inkwell, but he ignored it and began to write.

"I wish to be free of the prince's responsibilities and cares," he scrawled across the page. It was a simple wish, perhaps even a foolish one, but it was the one thing his heart truly desired at the moment.

For a moment, the prince sat at his desk and stared at what he had written. He wasn't sure what to expect, really. The pen wrote smoothly and left clean, crisp lines, but there didn't seem to be any magic to it. Perhaps Elaine had been right, he thought. The shopkeeper was an imp, after all, and such beings were generally known as pranksters in the best of times. Maybe he had been fleeced out of his money and there was nothing more to it than that.

Stathis was about to throw the pen aside in disappointment when the words he had scrawled started to glow with a deep, pulsing magenta light. The prince watched in fascination as the light grew stronger and the telltale chill tingling of powerful magic started to work its way up his spine.