The Chocolate Rose

"I can't," Arrik admitted, "He is still in the Count's dungeon."

"And you clearly have no access to him, even though you are here supposedly as a foreign expert in such matters?"

"I am here in ... an unofficial capacity."

"Merely to satisfy your curiosity ... Doctor?"

"Something like that," he admitted.

"Yes, I thought there was something rather strange about you. For a foreign professor, you speak my language extraordinarily well, a little too well, I think, sort of ... plummy, if you ask me."

"Well, my mother was originally from around here, or perhaps a little more to the south, and you should realise that foreigners practising another tongue always try to speak it more exactly than a native."

"So, as a native of your own distant land, how would you say, 'Good morning, El', in your native tongue?"

"Er, 'croresny patchek, El, payn'."

"Mmm, why the 'payn' at the end?"

The Prince-cum-Doctor smiled and cheerfully lied for his amusement, "It is a mark of respect, specifically reserved for maidens of school age or similarly immature."

"Really? Well, not only have I left school, I am a teacher at the local elementary school, so I am not sure that 'payn' is still an appropriate term to use."

"Then, El, if I may be allowed to call you as your friends do, I will refrain from the offending epithet." Arrik added, "Is it usual for the daughter of a gardener to be a school teacher?"

"My father is not just a gardener," El replied testily, "but the Mayor of Newmarket town, I suppose the Count found it much easier to throw a gardener into his dungeon than a mayor!"

"I wasn't aware of that," admitted a thoughtful prince.

Arrik turned to Tompty, "We must speak to this gardener, or rather the Mayor, Tom."

"But, my fa-"

"Your ... the Count ... gave permission for me to investigate the existence or otherwise of this supposed chocolate flower, if we need to question him then I insist-"

"All right, all right!" grinned Tompty, holding his hands up in mock surrender, "I give up, to the Palace dungeons we go."

"I would also like to come with you to see my father," Elvira said, quietly and then more forcibly, "he has been gone for over a week now without any word as to his wellbeing. May I accompany you, Doctor Rik?"

"Of course," Arrik readily agreed.

The thought of sharing a coach with this beautiful young maid for a couple of hours was an agreeable notion, except that Tompty was also with them. Arrik was well aware that his older cousin had casually flirted with or courted a succession of village maids, while he was shy with those that had tried to become familiar with him.

Elvira, to his regret, only seemed to find Arrik amusing rather than attracted by him. She started on him in the coach before they had even left the town and climbed the long steep hill out of the valley.

"Your coachmen seem armed with the same swords issued to the palace guard, Doctor, as does your man here, who carries himself more like a knight than any ordinary servant of a learned investigator. I noticed the weapons and the two types of military men when my father was arrested last week."

"I dare say such weapons are a common issue, available to all who wish to purchase arms of the common sort."

"Possibly, but the crests you have painted on the coach doors have been covered by sheets of parchment decorated in a plain and rather crudely painted coat of arms that I've not seen before. Did you, by any chance, paint them yourself?" She had an amused smile on her beautiful face.

"No," Arrik lied, but unavoidably turned red under her gaze as he did so, "now why would you think that?"

"Because in the sunlight the parchment becomes transparent and the Royal Coat of Arms underneath is unmistakeable."

Arrik thought about it for only a second, before holding out his hand to the young woman.

"Maid Elvira-Coral Shacklefurthbury, it is my pleasure to properly make your acquaintance. I am Prince Arrik and this companion knight is my cousin and best friend, Sir Tompty, the Captain of my personal guard, two of whom are pretending to be coachmen."

Elvira smiled and shook the hand of each man in turn.

***

Ambush!

The dungeon, where the gardener was chained to the wall, was a depressing place to be. Although not seriously injured or tortured, he was dirty and bruised where he had been soundly beaten. The dungeon keeper was ordered by Tompty to unchain him immediately and to fetch hot water and towels. Elvira had brought a change of clothing for her father.

"Mayor Shacklefurthbury, it is a pleasure to meet you," The Prince introduced himself after Elvira had embraced her father, "I am Prince Arrik, my companion here is my cousin, Sir Tompty."

The newcomers left Elvira to help her father wash and change before Elvira called Arrik back inside the dungeon cell.

As Arrick spoke to the Mayor, he was impressed by his dignity, even though the man still did not admit to the existence of the chocolate rose bush, answering all questions with another question. His daughter had nothing to say on the subject but was tearful at the treatment of her father and his continuing discomfort.

Tompty was quiet, but from the appearance of his face, he was clearly unhappy how the mayor of the most important town in the kingdom has been beaten and imprisoned without trial and in the absence of just cause. Imprisoned and beaten over a chocolate rose? It didn't make sense. He was reluctant to approach his father, until he was sure Arrik and his two new acquaintances were free of this cell. He persuaded the dungeon guard that his father had finished with questioning the gardener and they would take him home and send for a doctor to treat his injuries, to make him warm and comfortable for his recovery. He departed with the dungeon keeper to fill out the paperwork.

The gardener admitted to Arrik when they were alone, "Sire, there has been no preparation for the coronation of you, as King, due in less than six months. And all mayors throughout the kingdom have received official but secret notification from the Count that the Regency would continue to rule for the foreseeable future. The Count added that he should be addressed as His Majesty in future, not His Excellency. There was no mention of the Prince's coronation in any correspondence at all. It is as if, like the chocolate rose, you as prince a future king only exist on the lips of the people."

Arrik pursed his own lips. He had started out investigating the chocolate rose, a mystery that seemed of little consequence to his future, just a bit of fun, a diversion from his normal restricted existence. The fate of the crown, though, was another matter, a development that hitherto he had any reason to imagine.

The Mayor continued, "You should be aware, Your Highness, that neither Queen nor Prince has been mentioned by name in any communique since the first one announcing the Regency, shortly after your father the old King died. Many people had begun to believe that our Queen and Prince also died at the same time."

Tompty returned during the last conversation and declared that he was not aware of this apparent policy by his father. He sat quietly in thought before speaking.

"Rik, I know nothing of this. If there was any threat to you, I have always been on and by your side. I swore an oath as Knight that I always will stand by you as Prince and King, to the death if necessary. My father seems intent on continuing his Regency indefinitely or until he can perhaps declare himself king."

"For the Count to become king," the Mayor said, "he would have to rewrite the law, as no baron can be king, only a prince, like you Sir Tompty and Prince Arrik."

"I am a soldier, not a king. I only serve the king as my master. Rik is an excellent scholar, bright and keen to learn. Rik has been kept away from court and his mother, and has had little training in how to rule. But I am sure he will catch up. He was born to be a king. However, in his isolation, he has had no opportunity to gather allies to his cause. His training has also meant that he is ill-equipped to take the throne back by military means."

Tompty looked upset by the delivery of his own words and thoughts. The treachery of his father, the Prince's uncle, was a reflection on him, his sister, on his whole family.

"The Prince has the will of the common people," Elvira said firmly. Her father nodded in agreement.

Through the dungeon keeper, after the Prince left, the information that the Prince had been in the Palace, and acting in defiance of the Count, whipped though the castle as quickly as the rumours of the chocolate rose had and spread further out into the countryside. Apparently, like the chocolate rose, the people discussed whether the Prince actually existed, as the Count hasn't mentioned him since the old king died. Also they had long understood that the Queen has continued in mourning and shut herself off from the people. They began to question this impression too.

As the Prince's coach rode back to Elvira's house at the foot of the hill on the edge of the town, the Mayor revealed to the Prince that the chocolate rose never actually existed, it was a rallying cry for the people against the oppressive rule of the Count and his swingeing import costs, as hardly anyone had tasted real chocolate in years.

All the mayors throughout the Kingdom had been warned to have the local militia on standby as an important proclamation was to be made by the Count in the spring and they were warned that there may be trouble. The senior mayors, chief among them the Mayor of Newmarket town, met in secret. All agreed that it looked like the Count was planning to crown himself king.

This is what prompted the Mayor to come up with the concept of the magical appearance of the chocolate rose. The rose was likened to the Prince, whose appearance to solve the ills of the kingdom was wished by the people. The fact that the Prince was also lured out of hiding and now free of the Count's clutches was a bonus.

"I've not been hiding-" began Arrik, before realisation dawned on him. "Oh, I suppose I have been, or at least been hidden from view. And by being out of mind I have been forgotten, which was my uncle's plan."

"Not totally forgotten, Your Highness," Elvira said, "just relegated to legend, nursery rhymes and the like."

"Please call me 'Rik', El, when we are with my friends, except when we're in formal company." He smiled at the maiden, who smiled warmly back at him. Arrik thought they had shared a moment there that made an impression on them both.

"Whoa!"

They heard the yell from the coachman and the coach skidded to a halt. Arrick and Tompty were out of the doors, right and left respectively, before the coach stopped rocking on its springs. There, standing in the road ahead of them, was a heavily-set man dressed as a highway robber holding onto the lead horse, two mounted men behind brandishing swords and a fourth ruffian standing on an elevated slope to the left side, armed with a nocked and drawn bow. They all wore hoods drawn over their heads, disguising their faces.

Tompty drew his sword, Arrick was unarmed, other than his sling, into the end of which he placed several stones from a pouch attached to his belt. He imagined that if he got close enough to a villain he could use it as a cosh. Arrik was on the opposite side of the coach from Tompty. He heard the door creak as Elvira descended the steps behind him. Arrick allowed the weighted end of his sling to drop down ready for swinging as he crept up alongside the coach horses, while Tompty drew their attention away from Arrik's right hand side, by shouting at their attackers.

"What do you mean by this hold-up on the King's road?" Tompty sternly demanded of the four men.

"Drop yer weapon an' stand aside, young knight," yelled the large man holding onto the horses, "and ye'll come to no 'arm, we on'y needs a few pennies to buy ale an' bread at the inn. 'Tis a 'ard winter for them what's out o' work."

"Well, I have some pennies for you," Tompty threw a handful of tiny silver coins from his pocket onto the road, "Now be off with you fellows before I lose my temper."

"Best I don't lose mine, young sir or ye'll be leaking scarlet from an arrow wound. Mind my words now, you drop yer weapon!"

Arrick was almost alongside the speaking man, whose field of vision was affected by the hood he wore. Arrick swung the heavy sling and cracked it against the hooded skull of the robber. The man fell sprawled across the road, his hood falling away as he fell.

"Dargo!" cried Tompty, recognising the captain of his father's personal guard.

The leading coach horses reared up at the sudden movement by Arrik and the robber falling at their feet. The horses of the two mounted robbers reared up in like fashion and the raiders had to hang on or their mounts might have bolted and thrown their riders. The coach horses were held in place by the brakes, the rains of the coachman driver and the other two horses blocking the road in front of them.

Tompty moved towards Dargo but stopped as an arrow hit him in the middle of his chest. After standing stock still for a moment he fell backwards onto the ground.

Arrik was not aware of this development and already running to the nearest horseman and rapped the horse on the rump, causing it to bolt. The second horseman lifted his sword above his head in preparation to strike the impudent youth, but Arrik was able to strike his horse with his sling too, and the robber was nearly thrown as his mount leapt away while his rider was unbalanced.

The archer had nocked another arrow onto his bow and loosed it off at Arrik. The Prince was sure that he was done for, he saw it coming straight for him and he had no time to get out of the way, but the arrow somehow veered off line and whizzed past his left shoulder. Arrik swung his weighted sling and this time released the four stones contained within, three of which hit the archer in the face, the fourth lodging into his throat. The archer was dead before he hit the ground.

Arrik loaded his sling with a single pebble to follow the two mounted robbers, and stepped round to Tompty's side of the coach. Only now did he see his stricken cousin on the floor. He looked up and saw one of the robbers was trying to control his mount and turn back to face his quarry.

Arrik fired his stone, which hit the robber full square on the side of his head, so that he fell off his mount to the floor. The other man saw the day was lost and dropped his sword, urging his mount to flee and made only two or three steps before a shot hit him on the back of his head and rattled his brain until he was unconscious. He slumped over the pommel and the horse carried its senseless rider off into the distance, presumably back to its stable at the castle.

By the time Arrik turned his attention back to his best friend, Elvira was already kneeling by his side, had withdrawn the arrow and was pressing her hands on his chest to stem the flow of blood, which seeped between her long pale fingers, and encourage Tompty to breathe again.

Fearing the worst, with tears in his eyes, Arrik knelt on the other side of his friend. Surely, no-one could survive such a wound. Picking up the arrow he noticed that the metal tip was unbarbed, presumably so that it could be removed easily by the archer without leaving evidence behind which might lead to the identity of the murderer.

"How's Tom?" he asked of the young teacher, her hands covered in blood, still pressing down on Tompty's chest. Suddenly, the young knight coughed, opened his eyes and let out an enormous breath. Slowly, he breathed in again, trying to sit up.

"Lay back, Tom," Elvira insisted, "please take it easy. You have a serious wound. Can we have a blanket here, please?" she called.

The two coachman had not been idle since the threat disappeared. One of them was tying up the lead robber, already identified by Tompty as 'Dargo', while the other coachman fetched a couple of the blankets that had been wrapped around the legs of the driver, and handed them to Elvira. Then he ran off with a luggage strap to tie up the other man thirty paces down the road.

"That was a shot from the archer Birtley, the best bowman in the land," said the first coachman, "Sir Tompty's lucky he weren't killed outright, and as for you, Sire, I dunno how he coulda missed you completely from such a range. It is said that Birtley never misses!"

The coachman pulled the parchment off the coach doors, proudly revealing the royal coat of arms.

Elvira finished tucking one blanket round the wounded knight, then folded the other and pressed it against his wound to stem the flow of his life force.

Arrik leaned over and patted his cousin on the shoulder comfortingly. He turned to the maid whose prompt action had given Tompty a chance to live.

"Thank you, El," he said to her, "I think you have saved his life."

"He has a long way to go before he makes a full recovery, Rik, that is a bad wound," she whispered to Arrik so Tompty couldn't hear, her plump red lips brushing the tiny hairs on his ear, "We need to get him to the hospital in Newmarket town to clean and bind his wound properly as soon as we can."

***

Taken

By the time the news travelled around the town that there was an assassination attempt on the Prince, by no less than the Count himself, Newmarket town was in complete uproar and the Prince was requested to attend a meeting of the townsfolk in the main square. The Mayor put the two men who held up the coach in the stocks. Under questioning, in front of all the town, Dargo and his accomplice admitted the Count had ordered the murder of the Prince. They hadn't intended harming the Count's son.

There was amazement too, as the body of Birtley the Bowman was displayed, the archer who never missed, slain in self defence by the boy who all declared should be King.

While the townsfolk assembled in the town square, the Count's palace guard rode in and attacked the largely unarmed crowd. This turned out to be a diversionary tactic. The Count himself, with a small band of soldiers, burst into the hospital and dragged his recovering son out on a stretcher to a waiting coach, to take him back to the Palace. Elvira insisted that he should not be moved, so the Count in his fury took the meddling maiden along with him, blaming her for this ridiculous chocolate rose rising which was at the root of this rebellion.

Back in the square, Arrik quickly used his sling to fell a couple of horsemen before a townsman could be harmed. The attackers, sure that they would face no opposition, were suddenly robbed of the initiative and they beat a hasty retreat back to the Palace from whence they came.

Arrik discovered that the hospital had been attacked, his injured friend and the maid who both nursed his cousin's punctured heart and possessed the Prince's heart, had been taken. He gathered the townsfolk and men from the surrounding villages, who arrived with any weapon that they had managed to get their hands on. He drove them on to march to the Palace. He dispatched another group of riders, possibly considered too old to fight, to the Castle on the Lake, to free the Queen and bring her to the Palace in due course.

The Mayor had a fast, light two-wheeled cart, which he harnessed up and drove Arrik towards the Palace. On the way he met with servants who were fleeing the Palace.

"Fellow citizens, do you know anything of Prince Tompty and the fair maid who was caring for him?"

"Aye," said one woman, dressed as a cook, "the Count's son's in the infirmary and very poorly, Sire, we doubt he'll survive the night, his wound turned bad and there be no nurse to care for him. As for the maid what was with him, she's been thrown into the room at the top of the tower. It will be more difficult to get to her than even the dungeons. She ... she's to be burned as a witch at first light, they say, Sire."