1 King Malcolm Goes On An Escapade

In the kingdom of Aerithor several centuries ago, things looked good. At least on the surface. If you were say, a random tourist and you just arrived in Aerithor, what you would see is a beautiful rustic landscape. To the north, towering peaks shrouded in mist dominated the scene. Towards the west lay a sprawling forest; mystic some claimed it to be. Well as a tourist, you couldn't care less. Perhaps that would even motivate you all the more to go there and see for yourself. To the south, the kingdom gave way to a vast river delta teeming with life. Of course, only the locals fully knew the extent to which that statement is true; the extent of life that lurked beneath the deceptively benign surface of the river that snaked through fertile plains, nurturing diverse ecosystems and sustaining agriculture. Advancing into the hub and heart of the kingdom itself, you would meet sprawling cities marked with towering citadels, bustling marketplaces, and labyrinthine streets. Aerithorians were tall, strong, and confident people with the Nordic telltale features of being blond and blue-eyed that distinguished them from the kingdoms around them. At this present time, the kingdom was bubbling with unprecedented economic prosperity under the reign of King Malcolm Corrad the Fourth. Palpable happiness was in the air; now and then you would hear a great laughter bubble up from somewhere around. Even when squabbles broke out, it did not last long. There were many a helping hand immediately rallying around not only to put out the immediate bust-up but also to make sure the fires of quarrel were completely quenched and the squabbling parties reconciled. As I said earlier, things looked good. And there was no way to know that all of this was about to change. But change it must or our story could not exist. And mark you, it does exist. Right in the centre of the kingdom, in the capital city Provda, stood the enormous royal castle where the good King Malcolm Corrad IV lived. It was a massive affair as castles of those days were wont to be. Standing several storeys tall with towers, turrets, a maze of a corridor pattern, hidden passages, and numerous bedchambers, it was very easy to get lost if you did not know your way well enough. Advancing down one of those corridors, late one evening were two men both dressed in the palace guard uniform of wine and black. They passed some other fellows, mostly castle hands along the way. Hardly anyone paid them a second glance. Castle guards patrolling was a familiar sight. Besides, some of these guards had a reputation for cruelty. No one liked to interact with them except they absolutely had to. But if someone had bothered to look more closely, then they might have noticed that these men were different. At least one of them, the one with long black hair and a very ugly mustache - both of which were in fact fake - certainly was not a castle guard by any stretch of the imagination. That was because he was the King of Aerithor himself; King Malcolm Corrad IV. "Come on Sorrentino, step up the pace," Malcolm growled at the other man, a castle guard who was scanning the corridors as he moved. "You'll sooner give me away with all your antics than anything else." Maxwell Sorrentino smiled sheepishly and hurried to catch up with his king. "Your Ma - " "Call me Mac!" The King hissed. "Your Majesty? Really? What is wrong with you? I might as well whip off this ridiculous wig and mustache I'm wearing." "Okay Mac," The other man said uncomfortably. "I just want to be sure no one detects us." He had heard about the king's escapades from some of the other palace guards but he had never been along on one before. Today, he had suddenly been called upon by the man himself to accompany him on a mission to ensure 'the welfare of select subjects of the King were adequate and in order.' Sorrentino was not fooled though. Neither did the King expect him to be. These select members of course were none other than fair maidens that the King had taken a liking to. Sorrentino privately wondered why the man was sneaking about to see who he could only imagine were potential concubines in the first place. He was the King. Of the whole of bloody Aerithor. Hell, he could have any woman he wished. He thought about his own woman, the beautiful Helena working down in the kitchens. He would have to rephrase his last thoughts. Well, that was one woman the king could not have thank you very much! Sorrentino was a hard soldier who had seen many a skirmish in life. He was as tough as nails and twice as skilful. But when he laid eyes on the dark-haired beauty in the marketplace just outside Provda that blessed day barely a month ago, it was love at first sight. If it had not happened to him, he would not have believed that such a thing was possible. She was from a neighbouring kingdom and had relocated to Aerithor where she found employment in the royal kitchen. Sorrentino had thought that incredible. It simply meant she was always close by. And far away in the kitchens, he was confident she and the king would have no reason to cross paths. He didn’t know yet how wrong he was. Malcolm stopped presently outside an innocuous-looking oil painting of a woman cradling a baby in her arms and Sorrentino snapped out of his blissful reverie. "Here we are," He announced with satisfaction. After scanning the hallway to make sure no one was in sight, he swung the portrait aside to reveal a perfectly ordinary looking panelled wall. Sorrentino watched curiously. He had been told that the King knew the castle with all its mazes and corridors like the back of his hand. But he had never seen that demonstrated before. "This is just a normal wall your Majes - Mac. What are you…" he started to say before Malcolm cut him off. "Be quiet Sorrentino and just watch if you may!" The King tapped somewhere in the middle of the panel and just like that a portion of the wall slid away true and real like a block of cheese being cut out of a whole. "I know this castle like no man does." The King sounded amused as he turned around to catch a glimpse of his man's awed face before climbing into the tunnel that appeared behind the opening. "Okay let's move it quickly. This hidden corridor should lead right into the bedchamber of erm…our friend." Sorrentino was shocked to find that the corridor was in fact not dark as he had expected but lit with candles all the way through. Evidently, someone was maintaining it well. At the end of the rather long passageway, they emerged behind another portrait into what was a fairly large room, dark and with a smoky feel about it. There was a bed in a corner with what looked like a lot of blankets piled on it. Two chairs arranged so that they faced themselves were the other piece of furniture in the room. "My dear girl," Malcolm called even as Sorrentino squinted trying to see where the room's occupant was situated. Then the pile of blankets moved. It wasn't just a pile of blankets as the castle guard had thought. There was someone ensconced in the middle of it!