Crowns and Daggers

Chapter six

Ash sat down at the long table, reflecting on all the gold they used just to eat. It seemed to him that if thieves were resorting to stealing from royalty, the street must have extremely thin pickings. He shook his head and sighed. Since the incident with the pickpocket yesterday, he couldn't get ideas like that out of his head.

Ash was startled out of his thoughts when the first course arrived. Plates heaped with steaming eggs and bacon, piles of sausages, assortments of different fruits, and other delicious food were placed in front of him, and Ash could feel himself practically drooling.

He dug in, glancing at his father who was seated at the end of the table, every so often to make sure his disapproving glare was fixed on anyone but him. The second course arrived with many of the same things. The third course was refreshments and a palate cleanser.

After the third course was over, Ash quickly excused himself, not wanting to be trapped in the endless political chatter of the adults, and exited the room quietly, as to not catch the attention of his father, who would want him to meet some noble or duke from a neighboring kingdom.

Ash took his time wandering to his schoolroom, noticing how silent it was with everyone still at breakfast. The only people about were maids hurrying to do the laundry or dust one of the many unused chambers.

Passing his room, Ash looked forlornly at the door, thinking of Ember, who was trapped inside until Ash was free of the tutoring and lessons. He wrenched his eyes away and continued, stopping when he reached the wooden door that his tutor waited behind.

Ash hated the scholar, Sir Orton. He was tall and thin, almost sickly looking with his pale skin and greasy black hair. Over his squinty eyes he wore a pair of tiny eyeglasses. He talked as though he knew everything and more, and Ash knew nothing, which was the most annoying thing in the world to Ash.

Reluctantly, knowing he could no longer delay the inevitable, Ash raised his fist and knocked on the door.

"Come in," came the oily, nasal voice of Sir Orton. Sighing, Ash entered the small room filled with books, charts, and other things that contributed to making his experience in learning horrible.

His tutor was seated on a stool facing the lone desk in the middle of the room. To the right of the desk was a window that Ash often found himself looking out of.

Sure enough, as Sir Orton began droning on about the land east of Zimeania, the neighboring kingdom of Quorro, Ash's gaze drifted towards the view of the gardens out the slit in the stone.

Suddenly, movement caught his eye and he sat up straighter to get a better view. Two royal guards were advancing on what looked like a defenseless teenager. Hardly a fair fight.

"Excuse me," Ash said hurriedly, and his tutor stopped to shoot him a withering glare, "but there is something I have to do."

He jumped out of his seat, leaving an outraged Sir Orton to yell, "Young man, get back here this instance! I don't care if you're a prince, I won't allow this nonsense!" The only one to hear his words was The Castle's tabby cat, sunning itself in a nearby patch of light, undisturbed by the commotion as Ash burst out of the classroom.

Ash raced through the corridors, shoving surprised servants out of his path, and shouting a quick, "Sorry!" occasionally to ease his conscience.

Finally reaching the doors to the streets, Ash threw them open, blinking rapidly in the bright autumn sunlight. He flew outside and through the winding paths of the gardens and skidded to a stop in front of the two royal guards that had backed the girl up against the stone wall. One of them had a bruise blooming on his cheek, from where the girl most likely punched him, but they kept coming.