phantom knights 04 - deceit in delaware (40 page)

At the reception, I saw Bess speaking with the former Mrs. Stanton and was introduced to her daughters, Karen and Leah. I heard Bess thank them for all that they had done for the princesses and the queen.

She knew that it could not have been an easy life, growing up and pretending all the time that they were someone else. Karen, who had been thought to be Arabella, and Bess had a chat about sword fighting of all things. She had been trained, in secret, for years and hoped to be able to have a friendly bout while Bess was staying at the palace. She said that Levi had told her all about Bess’s skill.

Mid-way through the reception, Bess and I snuck away from the well-wishers and merriment to get some air and some quiet.

“I want to show your surprise,” I told her, so, together, we walked through the garden, past the orchard, to a hill that overlooked the ocean.

There were seven large white stones engraved with an image at the top of each and words carved beneath.

“Are those…?” Moving forward, Bess laid her hand against the carving of a mask. Beneath the image were words that had been spoken at the memorial that we had held in Charleston for our parents and all of those that we had lost.

Tears began to fall down her face but Bess let them. Bess let them fall into the grass at the base of the stone, watering it. Not with grief, but with remembrance.

We had made stones for Ben, Henry, Abe, Arnaud, Arthur, and our parents.

At our mother’s stone, Bess knelt, pressing her fingers against the image of the sun. Mother was the sunshine in the darkness, the cheerful flowers at the first burst of spring. She was what life should be; rejoicing, understanding, forgiving, loving, and full of hope.

Next to Mother was Father. His stone had no image but words. Words that Mother had written upon the last page of her journal, a page that had been stuck to the journal’s back and so I had not found until after her death.

A life given, a life stripped away, a soul shattered, a future that mattered.

Neither life nor death shall bind the joy of memories so fine.

Death’s kiss did find, the man who should always have been mine.

“Mother wrote that,” I told her as she ran her finger over the words.

“It is a fine memorial, Jack. Thank you for sharing it with me.”

Taking her hand, I tucked it around my arm. “Though their lives were taken far too soon, we remember them as they were. Strong, faithful, compassionate, caring, protective. Our family. We honor you, friends, and we will never forget all that you have done for us.”

At the base of the stones there was a smooth stone placed in the ground. It read, “We are Phantoms. Even when we no longer wear the masks, we will fight. For freedom, for love, and for the right that every man, woman, and child can choose their own path.”

And we had.

THE END

Read on to discover how it all started in
The Phantom Knight
, a Phantom Beginnings Novella

Acknowledgements

Thank you Lord for gracing me with the strength to make it through.

To Boss, Doc, and Spy,

Thank you for being the inspiration for the princesses.

To the Fear Slayers,

Thank you for all of the support and excitement over my stories. I truly cannot thank you enough for sticking with me through this series.

To Melly, Karen, and Leah,

Thank you each for allowing me to use your names in the story and for being such great friends.

John,

The last six months have been the hardest of my life, but you were always there to encourage me. You will never know how much I adore you.

To all of you awesome readers,

I cannot thank you enough for sticking around during all of the extensions. Finishing this story had truly been a labor of love. From serious health risks, to my mom being diagnosed with cancer in one month and losing her the next, your encouragement is what made finishing this story possible.

In loving memory of my mom.

About the Author

Amalie Vantana wrote her first story at age seven. When her friends were dreaming about being princesses, Amalie was dreaming about being a musketeer. When she’s not writing adventures, she spends her time with her family, exploring historical locations, and searching for adventures to be had. Amalie makes her home in West Virginia with her husband.

Connect with Amalie:

Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/Mommyauthor

Twitter:

https://twitter.com/AuthorAVantana

Website:

http://www.mommyauthor.com/

Author’s Historical Notes

When I was in school I came across a story about twin sisters in the seventeenth century who were princesses. Their story had intrigued me, though there was not much known. Their parents had been murdered and they had to flee their country to save their lives. When they were older they led a revolution, regaining their home land. When it came to creating the Phantoms, that story came back to me. I knew that I wanted to take that and create my own version. As I did not remember what country theirs had been, I decided to create my own and Lutania was born.

As I was traveling through Delaware in search of the perfect place to base my battle, I came across New Castle, Delaware. It is a wonderful town that sits along the river and boasts of much history. While looking across the river, I knew that I wanted to base my battle there.

I have been asked so many times if there is any truth to the Phantom stories. There are pieces of truth immersed in the fiction, such as Monroe’s guards. I found an account of a group of men called such whose job it was to protect the president. They were not a formal group, and so there were no accounts of their duties, but it made me wonder what was happening to make President James Monroe believe that he needed protection.

I only touched lightly on the slavery that was such a large part of history, but I did want to add something about the freemen’s society. James Percy Wilson was based on one of the leaders who assisted in gaining freedom for so many of his fellow men. His strength and determination had made me want to create a character to honor his accomplishments, even if it had to be a small role.

Now to William. I know that many will ask why I did what I did. What will surprise many is the truth that I had his secret planned from the very beginning of this series. Masters of disguise can be found throughout history. Chevalier d'Eon was a spy in the seventeen hundreds in France. He masqueraded as both a man and a woman to the point where few knew which he was until after his death. His abilities with the sword intrigued me. Reading accounts of his life led me to creating William Martin.

The Phantom Knight

A Phantom Beginnings Novella

By

Amalie Vantana

CHAPTER 1

April 1787

Lutania in the North Sea

“Draw his cork, Luther!” shouted one of the five angry boys who were surrounding me and Prince Luther, the younger son of King Frederick.

King Frederick’s grandfather had led a dissolution, breaking free from Denmark to become an independent land. The treaties with Sweden were what aided in retaining our independence.

“Knock him down.” The boys continued their encouragement to Luther who stood before me as if he wanted to strike me. He knew that he could hit me, and that I would not fight back. He also knew that if I were allowed, he would never be able to touch me. A year his senior did little to dissuade him for we were of the same height.

Being the son of a farmer often drew much criticism to me because the king had taken a liking to me. He had brought me to the palace when I was seven to be a page for her majesty. I had grown up in the palace with Luther and his elder brother, my closest friend, Eric, the heir apparent.

When Eric had insisted upon striking a friendship with me, Luther had taken exception. Luther did not believe princes should be friends with the son of a farmer, but Eric was not so formal. Though I tried to maintain a respectful distance, due to his high position, Eric would not allow it. For eight years, Eric and I had been inseparable. Brothers in spirit were what Eric called us, though I knew my station. I knew my duty to the royal family.

Luther pulled his fist back, and I stiffened myself for the expected strike.

“Luther!”

Everyone paused as the crunching of rocks under boots sounded. Luther’s friends turned and ran. Luther sneered at his brother.

“This does not concern you, Eric.”

“What happens in my kingdom involves me, brother,” Eric replied calmly. Eric was always calm, where I usually was not.

The two brothers stared at each other for long moments, and I stood to the side silently watching the exchange. Eric knew that Luther would never challenge him for he held the king’s ear, where Luther was rarely summoned to the king’s chambers. I was summoned more often than Luther, which resulted in our confrontations, like the one this day.

“You would choose this commoner over your blood,” Luther sneered. For some reason known only to him, he thought sneering and spitting spiteful words made him more of an authority.

“I choose those who are for the betterment of our people, a lesson that you would do well to grasp, Luther.”

“That is what you and Fader are for. I am only the lesser son.” Luther turned away and began to follow his friends.

“You are only lesser in your mind, Luther,” Eric said as calmly as he had spoken throughout their conversation. It never ceased to amaze me that Eric could remain calm in the face of Luther’s animosity, but he always did.

Luther’s shoulders tensed, but he did not face his brother again.

Eric said something softly that I could not hear, and then he turned to me, smiling. “Yes?”

“Grand Hussar Regiment,” I said, though I had yet to truly allow myself to believe such a fortunate occurrence would happen to me.

“You will be in the palace then,” Eric said joyously as he clapped me on the back. I tried not to stiffen, but I could not stop it. The formality that one such as me, and all of those who served the royal family, owed them demanded that we refrain from seeking a close relationship with them. Something that Eric had tried to change over the last eight years.

He frowned slightly when I stiffened, but he said nothing. He knew that he could not change me. I was who my father raised me to be. A servant.

“Come. I believe that the cook has some tortes held over from lunch, and if we make haste, that new maid will be having her meal.” Eric smiled at his suggestion as he began walking toward the palace across the long expanse of green lawn that separated the orchard from the gardens and the large stone palace beyond.

Laughing, I ran to catch Eric. He and I would not have many such days left to us, for in a fortnight I began my military training, but I would relish whatever time I was given with my one, and only, friend.

CHAPTER 2

September 1793

For six years I worked in the military, serving the king, and making my way up the ranks of soldiers. Favor had shown upon me, for the king requested, when I was seventeen, that I be placed on his guards. The guards who protected the king when inside the palace and out. We went where the king went, searched the rooms that the king would occupy before he arrived, stood guard at the door inside the room and out, and traveled with the king when he visited his lands.

Eric and I spent much time together, but as he was much occupied with the affairs of the country, and I with my training and duties for the king, our outings were few.

Eric never ceased to point me in the direction of the maidens who worked in the palace. What Eric never knew, and I never told him, was that I had no need of a female to make my life better. My father had done without one since the demise of my mother during an influenza, and I aimed to do the same. Women, from my slight experience, were an unnecessary complication. All those tears and overwrought emotions.

I wanted to succeed in my duties for the king, not lose sight of what was important. Eric had done me a great service that day six years ago when he said that he chose people who tried to better the country. That is what I wanted. To better my king’s country, to make him prosperous, and to enrich the lives of all who were fortunate enough to call King Frederick sovereign.

On the day that I turned one and twenty, King Frederick called me into his chambers where he met with his advisors.

I had been in that chamber many times, standing guard over his majesty, but this day when I entered and went to bow before him, he requested that I take a seat. Startled, I glanced around and then chose the chair that looked the most stable, for I was secretly afraid of breaking something that belonged to the king. We were trained never to touch anything in any chamber where the king kept his personal effects.

“Eric tells me that this is a special day for you, Willem. My blessing on your head on this the day of your birth.”

My mouth began to droop, but I quickly snapped it shut tight. I had just been given a blessing by the king!

“Thank you, sire,” I said with reverence.

“This is also to be a fortunate day for Eric, for this is the day that I have received the agreement that will join my house with that of our friends in Sweden. Eric is to be married to Elisabeth, cousin of the king. She will bring with her a new era of agreement between our countries.”