Fred Gets Slapped

First: Ah! I’m glad February is over. It’s a horrible month when most things just go wrong (I’m repeating myself, aren’t I?). I hope March gives me the recovery I need.

Second: The new Sherlock Holmes movie is AWSOME!!!!

Third: My day has been wasted sleeping in because I now have to go to work at noon. Grumble. (I find it really sad that I consider sleeping in to be eight and then my day is wasted because of it).

Fourth: This is a shorter than average post, I know, but there is a reason for it, which will be explained at the end of the post. But the action is waiting now. Martin has runaway and nearly everyone is mad. To the story!
**************
Abigail paced around the room, the crumbled note in her fist. Suit and Sona stayed back as she paced around the table. The queen shook with anger. It had been a half hour since Sona woke her with the news. Her son had run away.

“You’ve got to send out someone to at least search for him,” she snapped at Suit. The Spy Master actually flinched.

“I have,” he insisted. “But this is Martin we’re talking about. He’s been trained to disappear. If he doesn’t want to be found, then we can’t find him. We can try, but it’ll be useless. He’s gone.”

“Sona,” the queen snapped, causing the researcher to stand straighter. “Do you agree with Suit?”

The young woman cringed. “I’m going to have to agree. Martin knows how to disappear.”

Abigail turned her back to them, furious. “Why would he even do this? Do either of you have any ideas?”

“The answers to that question are endless,” Suit sighed. “I couldn’t even begin to pick one.”

“Out,” the queen snapped. She had enough of this prattling. She spun around, seeing the surprise on the spies. She pointed to the door. “I said out!” They were quick to follow the order. She turned around again, glaring at the wall. She was angry, yes, but more at herself than the others. She didn’t know her son. How was she supposed to react to him?

“You’ll finally talk to her?” she heard Suit say. There was a mumble of affirmative. The Spy Master snorted. “Better you than me. And long over due too.” She heard two people enter.

“Who is it this time?” she snapped, not turning around.

“Fred Chief,” Suit said. “I’ll leave you two alone.” She heard one person leave and shut the door.

“Fred Chief?” she asked, refusing to turn to face the man. “You’re the one responsible for bringing Martin back to Aeterna?”

“Yes.” It was a soft deep voice. One she thought she recognized, but she pushed that matter aside.

“Do you know where he is?”

“Yes.”

“Where?” she snapped, getting frustrated. This man had answers and he wasn’t willingly providing them!

“I can’t tell you that,” Fred answered. Why did he sound so familiar?

“Why not?” she snapped. “He’s my son, Master Chief. I must return him to-”

“Abby.”

Abigail froze. Only one person dared call her Abby. All the anger she had melted out of her as fear and hope replaced it. Could it really? She slowly turned around, staring at the man. He smiled weakly, holding his hands out a bit to the sides, as if showing he were still in good health. The clothes were dust covered, worn, and old. There was grey in that dark blond hair, a beard covering strong lines… But those deep blue eyes…

“Jonathan?” she whispered, not believing her eyes. He nodded. “You’re alive?”

“I hope so,” he chuckled. Abigail felt tears come to her eyes as her feet moved of their own accord to him. She stopped as she stood in front of her husband. He was there… He was actually there. She reached up, nearly afraid to touch him and end this dream.

Slap!

Jonathan recoiled as her hand hit his face. He rubbed his cheek as he looked back at her. “I guess I deserved that.”

“Yes,” she croaked. “You did.” With a cry, she flung her arms around his neck, sobbing on his shoulder. He wrapped his strong arms around her and held her, kissing her temple as she cried.

“Shh,” he whispered, rubbing his nose in her hair. “Shh. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you that I survived.”

Abigail couldn’t reply for a minute, her emotions catching any words she had. Calming down enough, she looked up to those blue eyes. “Why didn’t you?”

“Terk was determined to kill me,” he said softly, reaching to her face and stroking her hair from her face. “I wasn’t about to tell him I was the king and he mistook one of the generals as me. The only reason I’m alive is because he didn’t know I was alive.”

“And you took up Fred Chief?” she asked, smiling a bit. “Where did you come up with a ridiculous name like that?”

Her husband sighed, pulling her to the table and sitting her down. “That’s a long story.” Abigail listened intensely as Jonathan revealed his double life, a charade he kept since his childhood. Things started falling into place, about some of his disappearances and the things he got away with. She couldn’t blame him for this secret life, especially after she learned that he only used it when he wanted to do something without being king and not for fooling around with mistresses. Not that she ever thought he would take to another woman.

Then he explained his need to go to Loman and the child he found there.

“You should have seen him,” Jon said, holding his hand out to what she assumed was how tall the prince was when her husband found him. “Skin and bones at the time, but, by the Seven Founders, I’ve never met a child with so much fight.”

“And you brought him to Aeterna,” she finished.

Jonathan nodded. “Yes, I brought Martin to Aeterna. Not that I knew who he was at the time.” He rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair. “You have no idea how much I kicked myself when Gillian wrote me and told me the truth. The clues were all there and I didn’t notice any of them.”

“He was a child who had suffered much,” Abigail said, patting her husband’s knee. “How could you recognize the clues when no one else did?”

He tried to smile, but she could see that he didn’t believe that. “I’ve watched over him since. I convinced him to become a spy. I brought him to the Tree. I even got him his horse. I’ve watched him grow from a street urchin to the man he is today.”

“Yes,” she said, remembering why she was still awake at this unholy hour of the night. “And it’s time for our son to come home, Jonathan. Where is he?”

Jonathan flinched. “No, I can’t tell you that.”

The queen narrowed her eyes. “Why not?” Her husband flinched again, recognizing her tone, one she reserved for him when he was in deep trouble.

Taking a moment, he took her hands in his, squeezing them tightly. “Abby… Henry is dead…” Abigail opened her mouth to argue; she could feel their son through the Connection when her husband squeezed her hands harder. “The pirates killed Henry and replaced our son with a very hurt, very confused Martin. He is not the toddler we both loved. He is a man, a man who had to fight for everything he has. He is not Henry.

“Martin is not ready for life at court as a prince. There’s too much spy, too much street urchin in him. Yes, our son could be very good at court, but not how he is now. We’ve got to train him about being the prince. He needs to get used to being served on instead of the one doing the serving, he needs to get used to the fact that people will die for him, not the other way around.”

Abigail lowered her eyes, staring at Jon’s boot. “Are you sure he isn’t ready?” she whispered. “I mean… I bet he could turn the court on its head…”

“Yes,” Jon agreed. “But there’s still a part of him that whispers betrayal from those he should trust most. The reason he didn’t tell me the truth was because he was afraid that I was going to abandon him. Me, the man who he considers almost like a father. The street urchin I found is still in him and that urchin has got to leave before Martin can be a prince. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Abigail looked into the eyes of her husband, seeing the sorrow and pain in his expression. She also saw truth; he knew what he was saying.

“I understand,” she sighed. “How long until he’s ready, do you think?”

“Hard to say,” Jon admitted. “A year? Perhaps two. Six months if I’m able to push him right.”

“And he’ll be working as a Ghost?” she guessed.

“He has my number already,” he chuckled. “And he has a reputation as a Ghost. That way, when he does finally return, he’ll have a background that’s a lot better in the public eyes than a spy.”

“That’s true,” Abigail agreed, smiling. “You’ll send him home when he’s ready then.”

“And I’ll make him write to you while you’re waiting,” Jon smirked.

“If this note is his best example of writing,” the queen said, pulling the note from her pocket, “then I don’t know if he should bother.”

“Note?” Jon asked, taking it. He read the short message. “I assure you, this is not his best writing. Normally he’s very good at it, I guess he secretly wants to write his own adventure book someday. I promise his letters will be better than this.”

“I hope so,” she snorted. “I’ve got a lot of catching up with him.” She eyed her husband. “Will you be leaving soon?”

“I’m meeting up with Martin tomorrow,” Jon replied, not catching her hint. He was a bit dense when it came to women. “We’ll go north, I’ll attach him to a Ghost unit…”

Abigail squeezed her husband’s hands. “I meant tonight, Jon.” Jonathan blinked, finally catching what she was saying. The king blushed. “It has been a long war,” she whispered, leaning forward. “And I have been very lonely.”

“The feeling is mutual,” he said softly, one corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. “But you think this wise? Now? The Tree will talk if you…”

“Suit knows the back ways,” she cut in. “We’ll be discreet.”

Jonathan grinned, pulled her close, and held her tight. “Oh, I’ve missed you.”
***********
The next morning, Jonathan rode through the thick forest toward the crossroads north of Firth. It was later in the morning than he had originally planned for, and he didn’t feel one bit guilty about it. But however much he wanted to stay with his wife, he had a promise to keep to his son.

When he arrived at the crossroads, one road running east to west and the other south to north, he found it empty. He wasn’t the least troubled by it. Martin would show up when he was ready. Resigning himself to wait, he dismounted and unpacked his late breakfast. He was considering which tree to wait under when another rider came to the crossroad.

“About time you showed up,” Martin said, reigning his Rowan to a stop. His son looked a lot better this morning. There was an energy about him, an excitement. Yes, the prince was glad that he wasn’t going to Nacre. Even the cloud cover started to clear up.

Jonathan shrugged. “I said I had to talk with the queen about you. I had to do a lot of explaining until she finally agreed with the plan.”

“I’m surprised she agreed at all,” Martin snorted. Jon mounted his horse again. “So, where are we going?”

“North for now,” Jon replied, steering his horse in that direction. “I have an idea about where to put you.”
************
Abigail called a meeting the morning Jon had left. She felt more energized than she had in years, especially in the last few weeks. She felt as if she had purpose again, her goal clearly defined. Even with the lack of sleep, the others could tell there was something different about her. She didn’t feel obliged to explain what was different.

Suit, Duke Thomas, and Sona all sat in the same conference room she had met with Jon the night before. Abigail sat at the head of the table, gazing at them. They all seemed more tired than her and defiantly more subdued.

“I will not keep you,” Abigail promised as she started the meeting. “I wish to apologize to you, Suit and Sona, for the way I acted last night.”

“You were upset your son ran away,” Suit pointed out. “You have every reason to act out.”

She shook her head. “No. I am the queen of Aeterna, I should act better. Yes, I was upset that Martin ran away, still upset truth be known, but now I understand. After my talk with General Chief last night, I have realized that I was not thinking about what would be best for Martin.”

“Is that why the search has been called off?” Sona asked softly, as if she were still afraid of getting snapped at.

“Yes,” the queen sighed. “For the time being, Martin will be joining the Ghosts as Chief trains in him in his magic and…” She waved her hand dismissively.” Other princely things. I have no idea how long this training will take, but I will be patient for his return.” She took a moment to gaze sternly at them. “That does not mean, however, that I will be idle. Suit.”

“Your Majesty?”

“I will need to have all of Martin’s records gathered. I will review them as I travel to Nacre. Yes,” she sighed, seeing the looks of surprise on their faces, “I will be returning to the capital. Duke Thomas, you will also be joining me.”

The duke frowned. “Why?”

“Because the Dawson House needs to return to court,” Abigail said sternly. “Yours was once a powerful house until your father destroyed it. You need to build it up again. The best place for that is in Nacre. Understood?”

Thomas sighed. “Yes, your majesty.”

The queen snorted. “Good.” She turned to the pretty researcher. “Now, Sona, I’ll need you to come with me to Nacre as well. I have a project…”

“Your Majesty?” Sona asked softly, sinking a bit in her chair. “If I might… I was wondering if I might go home for a season.”

Abigail frowned. “Why?”

The pretty researcher squirmed in her chair. “Well… It’s been a difficult few weeks… I need some time to sort things out. I would prefer to be with family.”

“Oh,” Abigail said softly, catching on. Sona was also greatly affected by Martin’s true identity. The queen wanted to shake her head; she had first misjudged Martin and now she was inconsiderate of Sona’s feelings. I have not been paying attention to these young people’s feelings.

“Very well,” she agreed. “Spend a season with your family and then if you could return to Nacre. I do have a project that I would like you to work on. It can wait for you.”

“Thank you,” Sona sighed, looking relieved.

Abigail nodded. “I understand that it has been a difficult few weeks, and I know there isn’t much we can do for now, but we will work on what we can to prepare for Martin’s return. Dismissed.”
**********
That was the original ending to The Secret’s Captive. However, as I was thinking about Aeterna’s Heir, I realized that it was going to be a lot longer than both The Rebellious Spy and The Secret’s Captive. Now, book two (about 110,000 words) was already longer than book one (about 93,000 words), but book three was looking like it was going to be monstrous compared with the first two if I didn’t do something to cut its length. So I decided to extend The Secret’s Captive (about 131,500 words). I thought it would be nice to show you what could have been the end, so that’s why the post is a bit short (though, truth be known, the next section is long, which would have made this an extra long post if I put it in this one).

Whew! Who knew that books could get complicated? I have been bothered by the growing lengths of my books until I glanced at the Harry Potter series. None of those books are consistent in length. I guess I’m alright with growing books. I don’t think anyone else minds, right? ;)

Enjoy the journey!