"Arabian Nights"
Part 52
by Beryll
The last couple of days had been surprisingly calm considering the whirlwind of things that had happened around Dominic's arrival at the palace.
Karl still wasn't convinced that the little hellcat wasn't planning something but the boy had managed to keep out of trouble and now pretended to be a perfect little slave. Karl didn't buy it. His guards were on orders to always keep an eye on Dom and Karl was very sure that this time his orders would be strictly followed.
The kittens had spent the days with their new toy, which meant they couldn't get into other mischief.
What had Karl much more worried was the fact that the Prince seemed exhausted. By now he should have been fully recovered from his ordeal with Au Nafud but it seemed to Karl that he was growing paler with each passing day, while the dark circles under his eyes deepened and his temper grew shorter.
Sean on the other hand was getting better with each passing day. The sparkle of life had returned to his eyes. There was still a lingering shadow of dark memories but he smiled more readily. Karl had started taking him along almost everywhere to help him with his daily duties and the guards had only needed one training session with the seasoned foreign warrior to fully accept and respect him. In fact they were just as grateful for Sean teaching them new fighting techniques as Karl had predicted. And to see the way Sean moved with a sword in his hand was a joy in itself. The man had the grace of a desert cat and at the same time he moved with the efficient purpose of a man who had fought on a battlefield till style and grace gave way to simple survival and turned into slaughter.
The more time Karl spend with Sean the more he realized that they were brothers in almost everything. This was the man he would have needed by his side in his childhood. A man that led by example and that Karl would follow into any fight. Just as he knew Sean would be right by his side in any fight Karl entered.
But right now they were pitted against each other, both of them trying there utmost to battle the other into submission, using every special move, every extra speed or strength and every dirty trick in the book to gain the upper hand. And they were pretty evenly matched.
Dodging a series of Karl's fastest blows Sean was obviously trying to find an opening in Karl's defence. To see those bright green eyes follow his every move with the burning fire of a warrior high on adrenaline it was hard to concentrate on the fight.
Still Karl was completely taken by surprise when the attack didn't come in the form of a blade sneaking through but by a sudden hard kick to his shin that made him loose his balance. Moments later he found himself on his back, Sean looming above him, the blunt tip of his practise sword against Karl's throat.
Sean grinned widely.
"If your mind wanders during a fight at least make an effort not to show it." he admonished companionably, withdrawing the sword and stretching out his hand to help Karl back to his feet.
Karl accepted the offered hand and got up, rolling his shoulders as the skin on his back protested the mistreatment. The mark of the whip were healing fast but not fast enough for Karl's taste. He had had to turn down the Prince when he had asked for a training session. He completely agreed with Sean that it would be best to keep the whipping secret from Viggo. With his current foul mood he would probably just snap.
"That was not exactly the most honourable way to show me the error of my ways." Karl returned the banter.
"Be grateful I didn't kick more sensitive parts, most honoured Captain." Sean answered.
Karl winced. He had learned first hand that Sean didn't consider such moves beneath himself. And so had several guards. By now they were adopting what Sean called a 'bar-brawl style'. Karl wasn't entirely sure if the Caliph would agree with his guards fighting like that but what he didn't know couldn't hurt him.
Karl was about to add another snotty comment when he noticed that Sean had suddenly grown very still, his eyes fixed on somebody behind Karl. Somebody who must just have entered the small, isolated yard they used for their training. Not somebody Sean feared, Karl guessed from the expression on his face. But still somebody to grow anxious over.
He turned around to find Prince Viggo standing in the archway to the yard, his face a frozen mark of shock and his grey eyes stormy with rage threatening to break loose. For a moment Karl had no idea what the Prince was angry about but than he realized that he had been standing with his back to the prince. His exposed back. So much for keeping things secret.
Before he had a chance to offer an explanation Viggo was already stalking into the yard, fists balled at his sides, looking ready to explode. "What, all the gods happened to you?!" he growled, his rage barely contained, "Who did that to you?!"
Karl flinched at the raw emotion in Viggo's voice. If there had been any doubt that he belonged to the circle of people dear to the Prince it was now obliterated but at that moment that was no consolation to Karl.
"The Caliph saw fit to have me punished for my failure." he answered truthfully.
"Failure? When did you ever fail him?!"
Just as Sean had predicted the Prince didn't see the obvious. A quick glance over to Sean showed Karl that the other warrior was studying his practise sword for chinks. He didn't plan to get involved in this argument and Karl couldn't blame him.
Viggo had other ideas. "Sean! Did you know about this?!" he snapped at the blonde man.
Sean looked back at the Prince calmly. "Yes, my lord."
"I did not fail the Caliph but you." Karl intervened. Sean had kept quiet for good reasons. Karl wouldn't allow him to take any blame.
Viggo's face took on a puzzled expression that didn't quite manage to drown out the anger. "You never failed me."
Karl bowed his head. "I did, my lord." he said, swallowing the lump of guilt he felt in his throat at the fact that his laxness had nearly gotten the prince killed. "If I had trained my guards better the assassin would never have gotten into your bedroom. And he wouldn't have had a chance to try and escape either."
The storm in Viggo's eyes grew heavier. "THAT is what he had you punished for?!" he bellowed. "Dom used a fucking SECRET CORRIDOR! How on earth were you or your guards supposed to know about that?!! I can't believe Hugo would have you punished for something beyond your power!! And HOW DARE HE DO IT WITHOUT ME HAVING A SAY IN IT!!!"
Both Karl and Sean instinctively ducked from the rage that filled the small yard. Karl had never seen the Prince this angry and to know that he was the reason for it was anything but pleasant. He tried to say more but before he could get out another word he was grabbed by the arm and forcefully propelled towards the archway leading from the yard.
"This will not do!" Prince Viggo hissed, cold anger and burning rage warring in his voice. "I will hear what Hugo has to say about this!"
That was pretty much the last person Karl wanted to see get involved at this point. But matters were quite obviously out of his hands now. So he didn't resist when Viggo pushed him through the corridors, ignoring the confused stares of people they passed.
At least it was early afternoon and that meant morning audience was over and Viggo would not face the Caliph in the throne room. It took them a few minutes to get to Caliph Hugo's private suite but that was not enough time for Karl to formulate any plan on how to avoid the confrontation. When Viggo flung open the door, Karl was grateful that the guards stationed there didn't try to challenge him. It might have been a fatal mistake.
Viggo didn't hesitate to announce his arrival. "Father, I demand to see you!" he bellowed, making all servants present scuttle away.
It didn't take the Caliph more than a few heartbeats to arrive on the scene. He was still wearing the ornate robes of audience and Karl guessed that he must have been quite busy. He didn't look to be in the best of moods either. Still he at least tired to stay civil.
"What is this commotion about?" he asked the Prince and then fixed Karl with a cold stare, of course blaming him.
Karl did the sensible thing and dropped to his knees to try to remove himself from harms way.
"Karl said you had him punished for failing me?" Viggo asked, his voice only calm at the surface but seething with anger underneath.
"Yes." the Caliph answered calmly.
Karl thanked Allah that he was not as easily provoked as the Prince. Still he felt disaster looming over their heads.
As if he was trying to prove him right Viggo hissed: "You had him whipped? How can you do that to a man who has served you so loyally?!"
"He failed my son." Hugo replied, his voice icy. "Failure must be punished."
"And I don't get a say in whether he failed me or not?! I say he did not fail me! I say he serves me just as loyally and perfectly as he serves you!"
"And that is exactly why you were not consulted on the matter." the Caliph stated flatly.
From his kneeling position Karl could see that Viggo's knuckles were turning white were he clenched his fists harder and harder. Karl's thoughts were racing but he simply had no idea how to defuse the tension between the Caliph and the Prince.
"To grant the assassin mercy was barely acceptable," the Caliph continued, "but the failure of the Captain had to be justly punished. And as you were incapable of doing it I had to do it."
Viggo's mouth opened and closed a few times before he was able to form an answer. "That isn't just punishment," he then growled, "that is pure spite! That is your way of dealing with your own failure to protect your children!"
The silence that descended over the room was choking. Karl felt like kneeling wasn't enough, like he should be lying flat on his face instead to somehow escape.
"Out." The Caliph finally hissed, thunder coiling in his voice. "Out of my eyes!"
For a moment longer the two men stared at each other. Then Viggo turned on his heel and strode out, his boots ringing on the marble floor.
Karl didn't move. Glancing up from below his lashes he could make out the form of his Caliph, trembling with anger. He half expected to be ordered to have the Prince beheaded or to be beheaded himself. But in the end the Caliph just turned away as well and left.
Heaving a heavy sigh Karl hauled himself up from the floor. The rift between Caliph and Prince was of course something that couldn't be allowed to widen. And it would be his job to repair it. Even though he had no idea how to achieve that.
Hoping that Ian would have more insight into the matter he left as well to find the wiser man.
If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Beryll
go to PART 53