Chapter Twenty-Five
The Pleasures of the Flesh
“Have you heard the news?” Prince Carl asked as he dressed in his bedchamber. “Destroyers have been seen in the forest! At least a dozen! A merchant travelling from Jasanta heard stories told of them at the villages he passed. I spoke with him only an hour ago. He was glad he avoided them.”
Prince Harold was not impressed or enthused by the news. He stood in the doorway of his brother’s bedchamber and watched as Carl hurried to dress, pulling on his boots. “Is this why you wake the stable lads and cause such a commotion in the dead of night?”
“Of course!” Prince Carl replied. “Sir Anthony gathers the rest of the men as we speak! Are you coming?”
Prince Harold shook his head. “Your quest for the flesh of Destroyers has never awakened the same passion in me. A wench is still a wench. And in the dead of night I prefer the pleasures of my own bed and the sleep it brings me.”
Prince Carl laughed. “You have no idea what you miss! There is no woman that compares with a Destroyer!” He stood up, stamping his boots, and reached for his breast-plate and cloak. “Ah, but I forget! You have yet to taste such pleasures –unless fair Gwendolyn has finally succumbed to your advances?”
Prince Harold yawned before replying. “What Gwendolyn does or does not do is no concern of yours.” He turned to leave then stopped and said over his shoulder, “But remember this brother, if the object of your ardour should happen to kill you, I will bless her name when I sit upon our father’s throne in your place.”
Prince Carl roared with laughter. He grabbed his sword and ran from his room, slapping his brother on the back as he passed him in the corridor. “If she kills me, take the throne with my pleasure! I won’t deserve it!” he shouted as he ran on.
A few moments later and Prince Harold was standing by a window. He stared out at the courtyard below, watching as his brother ran from the Palace towards the stables. Men and horses were already gathered there, waiting for him. Harold wondered at the extent of his brother’s joy in such wild nonsense. When would he grow up? His behaviour fitted that of a much younger man, a man who lacked any responsibility. Prince Harold knew that not to be so. But while their father was fit and healthy, Carl would have the time to play his idle games.
Prince Carl and the men who had waited for him all jumped on their horses and rode from the courtyard. Harold watched them go.
“Enjoy it while you still can,” he muttered under his breath.
Gwendolyn appeared at the window next to Prince Harold. She pulled her wrap tighter about her shoulders. “You worry for him. Why?”
“Because he has a task to perform. One of great responsibility and purpose.”
“Do you doubt his schooling in the art of Kingship?”
Prince Harold shook his head. “No, only his concentration.”
“Then come back to bed. The night is cold and I feel the chill. I will need warming up.”
Gwendolyn began to pull Harold away from the window. For a moment he resisted, but then he smiled and let her lead him away.