Groomed Prince Becomes a King

Gloria walked the long corridors of the glorious castle. All the spoils of war covered its walls. She smiled at the paintings of Kings past. Gloria was a servant to the royal family of Murtar. Murtar was a powerful and feared country in the middle of the desert. For thousands of years, it had ruled the desert by sword. She beamed in pride of her country and what it had become in her years. As she turned the corner onto the Prince's Chambers, she sighed. She had grave fears for the fate of Murtar, the Prince was a wretched boy who did not have the sense to lead such an important country, there was a growing resistance in Lower Murtar, they were seeking to split Murtar into two smaller countries, Upper and Lower Murtar. Gloria nearly choked on the thought as her weathered hands moved to open the Prince's chamber doors.

He slept so soundly, she thought. He was a good-looking boy of eighteen years. Unusually tall and broad, lean and muscular. Her task was to wake the young Prince from his sound sleep. Murtar had no more difficult or dangerous task. Her worn hands crept down along the royal cloth that lined his body and held still on the Prince's shoulder. His face tensed as she tried to draw back in fear, but he was faster. His hand shot out and caught her by the throat, his eyes abruptly opened. The Prince was awake. He swiftly stood with his hand still on her throat. She didn't dare lay a hand towards him. The Prince smiled a devilish grin and released her. Her crime was touching the body of the Prince. This was the punishment for such an infraction in the high court of Prince Dominick.

The King sat on his royal throne with the weight of all of Murtar on his shoulders. His principal advisor nervously stalked the throne, back and forth, back and forth. "Do you agree with the High Council?" The King's words cut through the air. "Oh Great King, I hold my reservations, but your word is the word of Murtar, if you say he is ready to lead, he is," Remis, the principal advisor to King Daris, croaked. King Daris rose from his royal seat, "Summon the son of Murtar to my chambers."

Prince Dominick sat merrily in the royal dining room. The dining room servants began the delicate dance of displaying foods from all corners of Murtar to the Prince. Before long, locks from the northern province, the finest lamb in all of Murtar, and the rarest grains covered the table. His face transformed in disgust. "You dare serve this commoner's meal to the Prince of Murtar!" He spat at a servant. She lifted her head up towards his and spoke in a quiet and apologetic voice "Great Prince, this meal is fit for the greatest of Kings. It is fit for you." His face reddened with anger "I am the sovereign Prince of Murtar, owner of all your eyes have ever seen, my meals will be served to me on the backs of other Kings." She lowered her head as he lifted the dish of lamb above her and thrashed it down on her face. The other servants ran as the young girl cried out in pain and fear, he continued to cover her face in the finest foods of Murtar. Just as his stomach filled with joyous laughter, Remis, the principal advisor to King Daris, passed through the threshold to the royal dining room.

The small man looked up at the hulking Prince. "Remis, if you've come to substitute for my table, you can see that you're a little late, lunch has been served," The Prince said before Remis could speak. "The King requires your presence in his royal chambers immediately," Remis spoke with the authority of the King of Murtar. The Prince said nothing and thundered across the room and out the door of the royal dining room.

Prince Dominick briskly walked through the corridors of the castle that would soon be his, he payed little attention to it's splendors. As the Prince neared his father's chambers, a young concubine of the King's walked out. She bowed before the Prince before skipping past. All of Murtar's spoils will soon be mine, he thought. He opened the door to his father's chambers and entered without a word. The king stood towards the long wall, his arms layered across his chest as he peered out the jewel-encrusted window. "Murtar is the envy of all other kingdoms, our statues stand prouder, and our towers stand taller than any other kingdom on the planet," The King spoke first. "Murtar is a fraction of what it will be under my rule," The young Prince proudly declared.

"You know nothing of Murtar, you know nothing of battle, you know nothing of your people, I fear for the future of Murtar with you at rule, my son" The King spoke quickly with momentary relief, he admitted what he thought he might never be able to.

"Father, I will bring new light to Murtar, we will expand our rule to the entire desert. The King of Murtar's word will be law throughout every country on this Earth, my word will be law."

"I know of what you did to our servant this morning, servants speak, they all fear you, they fear serving you, this is not the way to prove yourself worthy of succession," The King's words were steady, filled with great despair.

"A lowly servant thought it her prerogative to touch me, your Prince, she was mistaken and I dealt with that mistake." A hint of anger in the Prince's voice.

"The throne of Murtar will not satisfy your hunger for power, no man has the power you seek. I cannot crown you as God, my son. I owe my fathers before me the insurance of Murtar's survival, I must live up to their deeds. You have to feel the blood of a hundred Kings running through your veins. If you were to have a son, I would sooner name him my successor before you. I will accept the recommendation of Remis."

"Father... what is my fate?" The Prince quietly uttered. The Prince realized that he must now act as the faithful son to his father, the King. His brain flashed with alternatives, he considered cracking the turquoise vase, given to his father's father by a far off people, over the King's head and taking the throne by force. He thought better of it.

"You must prove yourself. You talk of extending our lands, we shall see if you can make it a reality. Take the Imperial Army, do battle with the people of the north, if you come back with the stronghold my father's father sought to add to Murtar, you will see your chance to be Crown Prince and future King of Murtar. Go now. Do as I ask." The Prince made his way out of the his father's chambers. His world was shattered. Do battle? The Prince had never done battle in his life, he searched his mind for answers. He had seen the Imperial Army parade through the capital of Murtar as a child after a great victory against the last democracy of the desert. This was all he knew of war.

The day wore on and his servants packed for his trip, the Prince began to romanticize his task. The delusions of grandeur grew within in, all would fear him. he would be a fierce and merciless warrior. It should not be too difficult, he was already a merciless Prince. He charged the greatest blacksmiths of Murtar with forging his battle armor out of pure gold. He would fight like a King and look like one. A week passed before he was prepared to leave the capital of Murtar. He had only seen the wonders out there beyond Murtar once, with a team of royal escorts. He had traded in these escorts for the strongest army in the world. He was looking forward to the suffering he would force upon the people of the north.

The Imperial Army surrounded the young Prince and waited for instruction. Prince Dominick's trademark devilish grin crept across his face. He was absolute ruler of this army. Days passed as the Prince and the army made their way north to the stronghold they were meant to destroy. Wherever they went, people chanted his name, they set up suitable housing for the Prince of Murtar, they showed him thanks. On the surface, he was the next King of Murtar, their leader. He looked the part in his suit of gold. The impoverished people stared at him in wonder. The High Council had been successful in keeping word of the Prince's misdeeds behind the castle walls.

They neared the stronghold beyond northern Murtar. The generals lined up at the royal tent, generously set up by the eager townspeople, the last town to the north of Murtar. The first general tapped on the tent and announced their presence "Great Prince, we ask for a minute of your time." The Prince popped open the tent and stared down at the generals angrily, what did they want? "Speak" He declared coldly.

"We're close to the people of the north, we must talk of a strategy. Have you formulated our strategy?" The general questioned nervously.

The Prince openly laughed "The Imperial Army is the strongest army on the planet, all know and fear these men, we're vast and numerous, they are few and weak. My strategy, general, no. My decree. Leave no man who would stand before me in defiance alive."

The day had come. The generals judged they were only hours from the stronghold. All were fearful of their fate, but the Prince. They had no strategy, they had no leadership, the people of the north had never been mastered before, how would they fair on this day? The Prince's elaborately decorated chariot bounced on the rocky terrain. It didn't affect his mood, he was excited. He knew many men would die today. The scream of his team of men to the north surprised him. He had been napping. His eyes opened to see something he had never seen before. Present danger. His eyes fixed on the arrows flying through the air, they fell and inserted into the heads and backs of his men. His chariot driver fell back behind the bulk of the army and moved towards cover. They had been ambushed. With no direction, the Imperial Army dispersed into smaller teams and made their way out into the desert, arrows digging in the sand all around them. They fell and died, one after another. The people of the north left their hiding place by the sand pits and charged towards the Imperial Army.

The Prince's face changed from surprise and fear to his devilish grin. The people of the north had underestimated the Imperial Army. They left their hiding spots. He tapped the shoulder of his chariot driver "Tell them to stay together, they are one army, let them be one, surround our enemies. Cut them off, they will never see the cover of their sand pits again." The chariot driver hurriedly notified the men left behind to guard the Prince, he told them to ride up and tell the rest of the army of the Prince's plan. The Imperial Army followed their new instructions and soon had surrounded the less experienced and smaller army of the north. The men left of the northern army were disarmed and shackled. They were positioned in the sand on their knees. The Prince eagerly walked through the rows of captured soldiers. The Imperial Army managed to identify the highest official left among them. The Prince stared down on this man with the prowess of the great Warrior Prince of Murtar.

"Your land is my land, your people will bow before their future King until the end of time. Why do you fight against my empire?" The Prince said so firmly that he believed it.

The man defiantly spoke up to the Prince "We would rather fight than be ruled by the kingdom of Murtar. You are tyrants!"

The Prince smiled and spoke for everyone to hear "None of you will know the pleasure of serving your King!" He drew his golden blade and drove it through the heart of the man. "Kill them all."

The Imperial Army and more importantly the Prince returned to Murtar victoriously. On his way back to the capital, Prince Dominick took part in many feasts, all in his honor. He was offered fine furs, rare foods, gold, jewels, wives, everything his heart might desire. His ego swelled even greater. They loved and feared him. He didn't mind the love, just as long as they bowed before him.

He returned home with all the political goodwill a successor to the throne could ask for. Murtarians felt pride in their heart for their country, all except the officials that lived and learned behind the walls of the castle. They learned of his merciless murder of the prisoners. The army of the north hadn't disbanded, every last soldier had been put to death. The suffering the King's son had caused weakened the King's heart. His son could just as easily decide to execute every citizen of Murtar. This was not a King in the making. Though the King could not deny this great victory, his son had earned his chance at the throne, whether he deserved it or not.

King Daris summoned the returning Prince Dominick to his royal chambers. "My son, you come home in victory. I am proud of you." The King spoke through clenched teeth.

"I laid waste to all who oppose your rule, I extended the lands of Murtar, I have brought hope to the heart of Murtarians, I am to be the next King of Murtar," He declared.

The King walked over to the window of his chambers and searched the streets of the capital, "You must rule Murtar, not scare and destroy. Murtar has reached a pinnacle of influence and power that my father's fathers could only dream of. No country on Earth would dare challenge us in war. Murtar has taken it's rightful spot as the leader of the world. There is no external threat to Murtar. The same cannot be said internally. We are in the midst of a civil war." The King paused to lower his eyes to his hands and draw in a breath, "I cannot deny this war any longer. If something is not done, Murtar will split into two and lose it's great power and prestige. We cannot let this happen. There is word of a woman. She's assembled an army against the Imperial Army. In the same way you have come home with the hope of the people or Murtar, she is a symbol of hope for the people of Lower Murtar. They want freedoms we can never give them. They call her the Warrior Princess, she would rule the lower segment of Murtar. Dominick, that must never come to be. Kill the Warrior Princess and you will be King of all of Murtar. Do this and you will be my successor to the throne."

"Father, I will not disappoint you." The Prince couldn't hide his smile.

The Prince eagerly assembled the Imperial Army, still tired from the trip back to the capital. Prince Dominick sought to find this Warrior Princess to no avail. He realized that he would have to wait for her to strike. She must have heard of his commanding victory over the people of the north. He had guided the Imperial Army to victory once and he would again. He didn't have to wait long, the Warrior Princess knew of his victory and would hope to capitalize on the Imperial Army tired journeys. She gathered her army of fighters with a clear strategy. They would ride through the mountains just past the rule of Murtar safely and then ride through as much of rural Murtar as possible until challenging the Imperial Army at the capital of Murtar. They would overtake the capital. The Warrior Princess wouldn't settle for just the lower half of Murtar, she would free all of Murtar, ruling it by consequence.

Unfortunately for her, no amount of gold could pay off the mountain people, like all other neighboring people, they had heard of the Prince's victory against the people of the north and feared the same fate, they tipped him off, in hopes of gaining favor in the high court of Prince Dominick. The Prince lead the Imperial Army into the mountains to head off the Warrior Princess. They expertly maneuvered through the mountainous terrain. The Prince sent forth a stealthy scout to find the Warrior Princess and her army. He returned with the exact information the Prince had hoped for. Now he knew exactly when the two armies would meet with the Warrior Princess completely in the dark. The Prince showcased his devilish grin.

Finally the day came, the Warrior Prince and the Warrior Princess were destined to meet in battle. The first rows of the Imperial Army lined their quivers and filled the skies with their deadly arrows. It was the only warning the Warrior Princess would get of her impending doom. The arrows dug into the mountains and into the skulls of her comrades. The men behind her moved to retreat but she denied it. They would move forward and they would win.

The first battle was gruesome. The Imperial Army showed no mercy. The Prince's curiosity to see his opponent grew within him. He climbed the stone and looked down upon her army. His eyes fixed on her. She was as tall as any man around her. Her skin tone was darker than his, the blackest of black hair. Her body looked well-muscled with faint femininity. He felt regret that she would never have the pleasure of bowing before him.

The Imperial Army destroyed the Warrior Princess's army of boys and old men. The Prince was completely confident in his victory. He decided to climb up the stone further. He made his way to the top, very proud of himself. He had beaten the Warrior Princess and climbed the giant stone. His eyes surveyed the horizon and he nearly fell to his knees. Another army made their way to this mountainous battle. The people of the north, east, south, and west had united to fight the Imperial Army. They must have hoped to kill the Prince before he could pick their kingdoms off, one by one. He had to rush down the mountain and retreat before this army arrived. He moved faster than he ever had before, this was also a new feeling. He was powerless. By the time he reached the Imperial Army, they were surrounded by this army of commoners on all sides. The generals came to him once more.

"Great Prince, we stand no chance like this, what should we do?" This the same general who had consulted him for a strategy on their last battle for the stronghold of the north.

"We only have one option. Tell the men. We're moving deeper into the mountains, prepare them for this fate of hell." He said sternly.

The Imperial Army gathered itself and followed the Prince. They moved fast and expertly. They didn't have a second to waste. The well trained Imperial Army had much experience in this mountainous terrain. The commoners who sought to kill the Prince before he could rule Murtar were not trained in maneuvering through mountains. They lost ground on the Imperial Army, many fell, bones were broken, blood covered the well-travelled rock. The Prince stopped before a giant cavern in the heart of the mountain. There the Imperial Army set up for war. Archers lined the opening, batches of men sat ready to strike. They were cornered, but they were prepared. The tired and wounded commoners army found it's way to the giant cavern. The Imperial Army were vastly outnumbered, but they had a strategy.

Prince Dominick threw off his weighted gold armor and fought alongside his men. They needed as many sword-wielding hands as possible. Days passed and the Imperial Army managed to hold it's ground in the giant cavern. They were at a stale-mate. Finally, the Prince settled on a messenger to deliver a message to the Warrior Princess. He had grown respect for his Imperial Army and wasn't fond of their needless deaths, he wanted to negotiate. The Warrior Princess agreed to the negotiation, but only on neutral ground. The Warrior Prince and the Warrior Princess left their respective armies for neutral ground up the slope of the stone. The condition of the meeting were that they could take no weapons, the other side's messenger must see them leave with only the clothes on their back and enough water to make it there and back.

The Warrior Princess made it to the top of the slope first. She sat with her legs crossed waiting expectantly. The first thing she saw of this Prince was his devilish grin. She noted his tall stature and youthful face, they seemed to be about the same age. He took a seat just across from her. They stared at each other for a great while, neither broke their gaze.

She was the first to speak, "You ask for a negotation yet offer no negotation, did I climb this massive stone just to make you smile?"