Tavern Prince (eBook)

James Peoples (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2025 | 1. Auflage
484 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
979-8-3509-7032-6 (ISBN)

Infos

A seventeen-year-old indentured servant boy at a medieval tavern is recruited by agents of the king for a secret mission to rescue a princess. This sets into play a series of events involving an ancient prophecy by an indigenous tribe, an occupying force on a nearby island, a rebellious nobleman, a supernatural secret, and a dark crime from the past, that will culminate in a battle as to who will control the entire kingdom.

James Robin Peoples was born in San Jose, California and now lives in Las Vegas, Nevada. He obtained his bachelor's degree in psychology from Santa Clara University and his law degree from The University of Southern California. He has worked at several law offices and has experience as an archaeological site supervisor, sales associate, library assistant, hotel clerk, waiter, and volunteer police officer. He has studied animation at DeAnza College, California and is the author of the children's book 'The Doubloon of El Dorado' which he also illustrated. 'The Tavern Prince' is his first novel.

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A nearby tavern servant with quite a talent for getting in (and out) of tough scrapes is targeted by the king's guard when a young cook's assistant reveals his unusual talent to the captain himself. After sending a young lieutenant to collect the tavern boy one dark, snowy evening, the captain and his man discover the strange boy's talent is even more extraordinary: he can move objects with his mind. An ostensibly simple mission to rescue a girl from the castle keep of the dreaded Lord Darkmoore becomes complicated when the girl turns out to be a princess at the center of an ancient prophecy that determines the fate of the entire kingdom. Meanwhile, a long-thought-dead agent of the king makes a sudden reappearance, as well as a mysterious band of black-clad assassins from a haunted, legendary island. The uncanny inhabitants of the island want the tavern boy for their own nefarious ends, the agent from the past has special knowledge, the Dark Lord wants revenge, the king desperately needs to complete his mission... and the supernatural tavern boy and the princess are at the center of it all. A dark history and a past crime eventually bring everything together for a final battle that will decide the destiny of the kingdom once and for all.

Textauszug

Chapter II

The Laughing Loon

The solitary pathway through the deep, menacing forest leading back to the village of Oakhaven was a smooth one and, but for an occasional low-flung tree limb and some stark, eerie cries from what the two riders hoped were merely owls, the night ride was uneventful. The biting wind had strengthened somewhat however, and a few flakes of snow had even begun to drift and swirl through the evening air as Stormcloud trotted clattering into the torchlit, flagstone courtyard of The Laughing Loon Tavern, carrying Preston and Tom.

The Laughing Loon was a large, wood-beamed building, sporting several arched gables along its wood-shingled rooftop, and stood amongst numerous, enormous oak trees whose branches shrouded the entire stone-paved courtyard. The oaks, like all in Kolande, were of the more rare, evergreen variety, their great boughs remaining lush with greenery the whole year round, even in the depths of an icy autumn such as this. They covered the inn’s entire exterior almost completely, providing the premises with a secluded, sheltered atmosphere, and giving the rather fantastical impression that the inn was situated inside nothing other than a living emerald cave.

It was under this luxuriant, green canopy that Preston arrived, with young Tom in tow, into the flickering torchlight just outside the great inn. The tavern was a two-storied structure, freshly whitewashed between its dark wooden beams, and well kept, with a separate building housing the stables being off to the left, and another to the right, for storage and servants’ quarters. A warm, orange-gold glow emanated from the large windows on either side of the main entrance, as well as from those along the upper floor, through which silhouetted figures could be seen and heard moving about, laughing, shouting, and singing. Although the hour was late, The Laughing Loon was still as rowdy and boisterous as such a place could be. Whether this would help or hinder his task of spiriting his charge away unnoticed, Preston could only guess at this point.

The king’s lieutenant shifted a bit in his saddle as he reined to a stop, the clopping of Stormcloud’s hooves reverberating loudly on the courtyard’s flagstones in the blustery night air. He glanced uncertainly at the flame-lit, wooden placard swinging above the building’s entrance bearing the image of a young man standing wide-braced before a full moon, sporting a silly jester hat, holding a rose in one outstretched hand, a severed human head in the other, howling with glee. Apparently the artist’s rendition of a cheery madman.

“We’re here!” piped young Tom. The boy was perched behind Preston and gripping him about the waist. He had just recently taken note of his surroundings, having had buried his little face into Preston’s back for the entire trip in an attempt to keep his nose from freezing.

“Hospitable place?” Preston asked, an eyebrow still arched at the rather disconcerting sign. Reaching behind him, he gripped Tom’s arm and gently lowered the boy to the ground.

“I wouldn’t really know, sir. They usually throw me out when the guests start arriving,” the boy replied seriously, stomping his feet to keep warm.

Preston grinned as he swung himself smoothly from Stormcloud’s back, “Well, not tonight they won’t. You’re with me.”

The boy beamed with pleasure as Preston handed the reins to a scruffy stablehand who had jogged out from the stables to meet them, flipped the man a coin, and gave the great black stallion’s neck an affectionate pat. “Be back in a bit,” he said quietly to the animal as the hostler led Stormcloud away to a stall. The horse gave a grunt, seemingly in response.

“Now,” Preston said amiably, rubbing his hands together and turning back to Tom, “Let’s go find this friend of yours, shall we?”

Leading the boy up to the thick oaken door, Preston grasped the iron handle and pulled it open, and the two entered the tavern.

Inside, they were greeted by a welcoming blast of warmth from a huge fire blazing in a central stone pit, sides of beef and whole chickens slowly roasting on spits above it. The man and the boy stood on the threshold basking in the sudden heat and, unintentionally mirroring one another, shook snowflakes from their heads and shoulders in an almost synchronized motion. The alehouse was bustling with people, mostly farmers, merchants and craftsmen from the looks of them. The scents of cooking meat, woodsmoke, baking bread, and sweet, spiced cider swirled about the two new arrivals as they gazed upon the crowded, rustic, wood-beamed room. A mixed cacophony of chatter, laughing, singing, clattering cookware, and the occasional voice raised in ardent discussion filled the pub as serving girls dashed back and forth between rough-hewn tables balancing tankards of ale and platters of food, attempting to fulfill shouted orders as quickly as possible. Somewhere someone was strumming a lute. It was a pleasant, almost orderly, turmoil, demonstrating as controlled, and yet unruly, a night as could be found in any thriving tavern across the land.

Preston’s boyish countenance subtly took on a more somber mien as he scanned the room carefully, taking note of all possible exits, weapons present, and potential human threats. Despite his youthful appearance, Preston was a trained, competent and experienced soldier, a small white scar traversing his right eyebrow providing a subtle testament to this fact. Satisfied that nothing was imminently dangerous, the king’s lieutenant still loosened his sword in its scabbard out of habit as he did anytime he found himself in an unfamiliar crowd, and crossed the smoke-fogged hall to a small table in the back corner. Tom happily followed and jumped into the chair opposite to him as Preston slowly lowered himself onto a bench, sensibly, with his back to the wall.

“Can I have an ale?” the boy asked eagerly.

“What?” Preston barked a short laugh. “You’re a little young, don’t you think?” he added, never taking his eyes from the rambunctious crowd surrounding them.

“No. I’m a soldier of the king now. Like you.”

Preston glanced quickly to the boy’s small serious face. “Well, the king’s soldiers don’t drink while on duty. So, no. You can’t.”

Tom’s lower lip protruded in a pout as he abandoned the argument.

A red-haired, buxom, serving girl had made her way to their table, her tresses disheveled, deftly evading disorderly patrons, and bracing a tray against her hip. “What can I get for you boys?” she asked with a thick country accent, her green eyes flickering curiously back and forth between the soldier and the child. “Looks like you two could use a couple of ales to warm up?”

Tom raised his eyebrows at Preston.

“One ale. And a warmed milk for the boy,” Preston said, scowling at the girl.

“Comin’ right up, handsome,” the girl laughed and spun on her heel with a wink, and was gone, swallowed up by the tumult.

“You said no ale while on duty!” Tom leaned in and whispered after she had fully disappeared into the crowd

“Yes, but I don’t want anyone to know I’m on duty,” Preston said with a self-satisfied grin, tapping his temple with his index finger. “We’re undercover and have to blend in. You’ve got to think about these things when on secret missions.”

“But…”

“Do you see your friend Nathan anywhere?”

Tom huffed at the subject change but then scanned the room diligently. “No, sir. He’s probably back in the kitchen. Or maybe he has stable duty tonight.”

“All right. Well, off with you then. Go find your mate and bring him back here.” The officer sat back and returned to scrutinizing the tavern customers. “And don’t worry, I won’t touch your milk while you’re gone.”

“Yes, sir,” Tom said, unamused. He gave the lieutenant a surprisingly effective glower as he jumped off his chair and scurried across the tavern, artfully dodging the criss-crossing serving girls, and disappeared into a swinging door that led to the kitchens.

Preston settled in to wait for the boy, but his muscles remained tense. Taking note of the most likely troublemakers in the room, his knee bobbed nervously up and down, and his grip on the pommel of his sword tightened, as he absently ran a finger over the scar on his brow. He wanted to get on with his business and leave as soon as possible, for taverns often had a way of inevitably erupting into chaos with almost no warning.

Little did the young lieutenant know, but would soon discover, in just what strange, and quite terrifying, ways that aforementioned chaos could arise.

Tom, bursting through the kitchen door, stopped abruptly once inside, startling the kitchen boys, scullery maids, and cooks alike as he craned his neck back and forth. “Is Nathan in here?” he asked breathlessly.

“Goodness sakes, Tom!” an older woman stirring a pot exclaimed, her hand to her chest. “You gave us a scare! What are you doing running about back here? If Mr. Grupp sees you…”

“Sorry, Mrs. Cobb! But I’m on a mission! Do you know where Nathan is?” he asked as the interrupted staff slowly returned to their chores.

“Storeroom,” a tired-looking man said while chopping vegetables on a cutting board, motioning over his shoulder with his chin.

“Thanks, Mr. Cobb!” Tom replied excitedly as he ran on, through the back archway, leading to the...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 31.1.2025
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur
• ISBN-13: 979-8-3509-7032-6 / 9798350970326