The Hero's Guide to Saving Your Kingdom (18 page)

Fig. 24 The BANDIT KING

“Spoken like a true prince,” the Bandit King said. “Yes, I know who you are. All of you.” He turned to Neville and Horace, who were standing next to his throne. “You two were right. Four princes. You’ll be very happy with your reward.”

“I think you’ve mistaken us for another group of men, sir,” said Liam. “We are just travelers who happened to—”

“You,” the Bandit King cut in, “are Prince Liam of Erinthia. I know this, because I’ve robbed you. I’ve robbed all of you. Liam, your father’s cherished sword, the jewel-encrusted one that had been passed down through twenty generations of the Erinthian royal family, the one that went missing last year—I stole it.”

Liam looked like he’d been punched.

“Prince Duncan of Sylvaria,” the Bandit King went on. “Remember how the hallway outside your royal library used to be lined with priceless paintings by the greatest artists of the land? They’re all hanging in my outhouse now.”

“That must be a big outhouse,” Duncan said.

Fig. 25 SPOONS

“It is,” Deeb Rauber went on. “And Prince Frederic, my silver-tongued friend from Harmonia, I bet you miss your collection of spoons from around the world.”

“You beast,” Frederic whispered.

“And Gustav,” Rauber continued. “Gustav, Gustav, Gustav. Have you not even noticed I’m sitting on
your mother’s
throne?”

Gustav clenched his fists and lurched toward the Bandit King, but was held back by guards—not to mention the chains that bound him to the other princes.

“Fine,” said Liam. “So you know who we are. What do you want from us?”

The Bandit King threw his arms up and rolled his eyes. “Jeez, how slow are you people? Money! I want ransoms from your very, very, very rich families. I’m sure they will all pay dearly to make sure their precious sons are returned to them safely. Or would you have me believe your parents don’t want you back?”

“What about
your
parents?” Frederic asked. “How do you think your parents feel about the life you’ve chosen for yourself? What would your parents say to you today?”

“I know what they’d say,” the Bandit King tittered. “They’d say, ‘Help! Let us out! We’ve been locked in this cupboard for years!’” All the goons around him burst into laughter.

Frederic pursed his lips and nodded, not saying another word.

“Seriously, though,” Rauber said, wiping a tear from his eye. “What did you fools think I was going to do with you? I’m the Bandit King. I’ve got a reputation to keep up. And getting four princes from four different kingdoms all in one cozy little cell is quite a coup, wouldn’t you say? I can’t wait to hear the next bard song about me.”

“Lousy bards…” Liam muttered, mostly to himself. He looked up at Rauber. “How is it that all four of us here know who you are? Why does everyone know your name and no one knows ours? Why do the bards give you so much attention?”

“I’m
bad
, Liam,” Rauber said as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. “Fear and loathing: That’s what sells. If you want real respect, switch sides.”

“You disgust me, Rauber,” Liam spat.

“Call me Your Highness,” the Bandit King demanded. “I am royalty within these walls. In fact, based on what I hear, I’ve got more loyal subjects than you do right now. The people of Erinthia aren’t very happy with you, are they?”

“How do you know all these things?” Liam asked, dumbfounded.

“I’ve got spies everywhere, Liam,” Rauber said. “I’m very well informed.”

Liam got an idea. He cleared his throat. “Well then,
Your Highness
, why don’t you prove yourself worthy of all those followers? Face me in a duel. Just you and me. If I win, the four of us go free; if you win, we tell our kingdoms to hand over whatever riches you demand.”

“Are you kidding?” Rauber asked. He made a fart noise with his mouth and pretended to wave away a bad odor. “Why in the world would I want to do that? You’re twice my size; you’d beat me in no time. I’m evil, not stupid. Guards, take them back to their cells. Oh, and chop off their feet so they don’t try to run away.”

Liam was once again at a loss for words.

“Wait, what about me?” Duncan interjected. “I’m several inches shorter than Liam, the only exercise I get is running from bees, and I’ve never used a sword before in my life. What if you duel me instead?”

“Have you lost your mind?” Liam and Frederic both hissed.

“Don’t worry,” Duncan whispered. “Things like this tend to work out in my favor.”

“You know what?” the Bandit King said. “Why not? That sounds like it might be fun. Let’s do it.” Roaring cheers rose from his followers.

“Brilliant,” said Duncan. “And you’ll free us all if I win?”

“No, of course not,” Rauber replied. “You four are my prisoners, and that’s not going to change until I get ridiculous amounts of money from your families. But I’ll fight you anyway. Just for kicks. I won’t kill you, of course, because I can’t get a ransom if you’re dead. But I think the boys here would enjoy seeing you lose a body part or two.” The Bandit King started bouncing excitedly in his seat. “Ooh, and you know what else? Hey, Liam, I’m going to use your dad’s sword to chop up your friend.”

Duncan swallowed hard. He had an unfamiliar wobbly feeling in his stomach. Was that doubt?
No, no
, he told himself.
My magical luck will come through for me
. (Except he didn’t have any magical luck.)
And besides, the risk is worth it. This will be a fantastic way to impress my new friends
.

“That’s a rather fetching eye patch, by the way,” he said to the king.

“Thanks,” said Rauber, removing the patch and winking at Duncan with the left eye it had been covering. “Both of my eyes are actually fine; I was just wearing the patch to look scary. Okay, guards, take them away and get Prince Duncan prepped for the duel.”

“On the roof, as usual?” Horace asked his boss.

“That’s right,” Rauber answered. “Hey, I’ve got an idea. Neville, why don’t we ask the old lady if we can borrow one of those music men. I’d like to have this moment immortalized in song.”

“Um, that was a joke, right, sir?” Neville asked with an anxious gulp. “You don’t really want me to, you know, talk to ’er. Not like face-to-face or anythin’. Do ya?”

Rauber was silent for a second, during which Neville’s forehead beaded with sweat.

“Nah, her place is too far from here,” Rauber finally said. “I don’t want to wait that long. Hey, Duncan. You had a flute with you when you got brought in here; you must have a bit of musical talent. Compose a song about your own dismemberment. But make it simple—something my doofus henchmen can remember.”

Duncan was intrigued. “Ooh, I’ve never written a song before.” He beamed. He started humming as he and the other princes were dragged from the room in chains.

“That was odd,” Liam whispered to the others as they went. “Who’s the old lady Rauber was talking about?”

“His mother?” Gustav guessed. “Doesn’t matter. We need to figure out how to get out of here.”

“No, his mother was locked in—,” Liam started to say.

“His mother is really of no concern,” Frederic interjected. “We’re going to be hobbled. Do you know what that means? No feet. I’m a dancer, people.
A dancer
.”

They’re right
, Liam thought.
We don’t have time to parse out every word the Bandit King utters. There are more pressing issues at the moment. Like Duncan’s impending demise
.

11

P
RINCE
C
HARMING
T
AKES A
D
IVE

T
he rooftop level of the Bandit King’s castle had been constructed as a convenient spot from which the robbers could spill boiling oil down onto anyone who tried to break into their headquarters, but it also served as a nice place to have duels and, occasionally, to sunbathe. It was up there, with his loyal followers cheering from the sidelines, that Deeb Rauber prepared to slice and dice Prince Duncan.

Guards led the four princes, still chained to one another, from a lookout tower onto the stony rooftop. The army of bandits hissed and booed until the king raised his hand to hush them. He danced out into the center of the courtyard, waving around the most fabulous sword anybody there had ever seen. From handle to tip, the blade was encrusted with diamonds, emeralds, rubies, and sapphires. The weapon sparkled and shimmered like a sky full of fireworks. This was the legendary Sword of Erinthia. Liam gritted his teeth when he saw it and made a silent vow that he would get the sword back to his family someday.
But my first priority is to make sure that fool Duncan doesn’t get himself killed
, he thought.
It’s just one thing after another, isn’t it? Being a hero can be so frustrating sometimes
.

Duncan’s head was buzzing with adrenaline as he watched the Bandit King strut around, showing off for his followers. Duncan knew that the ten-year-old boy was soon going to stop playing around and start attacking him with that beautiful, deadly sword, and he wondered exactly how his magical luck was going to save him. One of the guards unlocked Duncan’s chains, separated him from the other princes, and pushed him out into the sunny, open center of the courtyard to face the Bandit King.

Fig. 26 The SWORD of ERINTHIA

“How’s the song coming along?” Rauber asked.

“I’m thinking it can start with something like this,” Duncan answered, and sang, “The Bandit King took Prince Duncan up to his roof. He planned to chop-chop him, and that is the troof!”

“That’s terrible,” Rauber said.

“Sorry. First-timer,” Duncan said. “Maybe it would be better if I work on it after the duel. That way, I’ll know how it ends.”

“Oh, we all know how it’s going to end,” Rauber said with a grin. He tossed the Sword of Erinthia back and forth from hand to hand. “Ready to get hurt?”

“Would it matter if I said no?” Duncan asked.

“Nuh-uh,” Rauber smirked, shaking his head. He giggled as he sliced zigzags in the air.

“Don’t I get a sword, too?” Duncan asked. “I mean, you did say this was going to be a duel, not just a butchering.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” the Bandit King said. “Never let it be said that the Bandit King is anything but fair. Horace, let the prince borrow your weapon.”

Horace stepped out of the crowd, lugging a huge two-handed sword. The blade was six feet long and weighed more than Duncan did.

Duncan let out a nervous laugh. “You know, a smaller one would be just fine.” His luck was taking its sweet time to show itself. He honestly thought it would have gotten him out of this situation already, and he hoped the magic hadn’t gone on vacation or something.

The next few seconds seemed to occur in slow motion. Horace tossed the enormous sword in Duncan’s direction. The mocking laughter of a hundred bandits echoed in Duncan’s ears as the blade flew toward him. He reached out and—surprising even himself—caught the hilt of the sword in his hands. However, Duncan was not a terribly strong man. To him, catching the sword was like being hit with a cannonball. Unable to stop the momentum of the heavy weapon, Duncan staggered backward uncontrollably—and tumbled off the edge of the roof.