FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chapter 3

The halls were empty, only the echoes of his light steps accompanying him. That was not unusual, the castle had very few guards for such a huge place and even fewer staff. Bartholomew wondered if that was the King's wishes or if Rein was just that creepy that no one in their right mind wanted to work here.

As a rabbit, Bartholomew was naturally cautious of most situation. Being a checkered giant, he would still meet these situations head on. That was a strategy not easily used in the court of King Marcus however. The houses, diplomats, royal family and even the king himself never meant what they said. In his time as the court musician, he had seen time and time again the subtle insults and outright lies that passed between alianses and decrees.

Entering his room, Bartholomew was once again hit with a sense of thankfulness as well as guilt. While he lived within the palace, his family were still stuck in that hovval they called home. But if it was not for his employment here than Bartholomew was certain he'd be unable to make sure they continued to have food and a roof.

The pay may not have been as lavish as one would think for entertaining the King himself, but it was better than dock work and far less dangerous than being hired on as muscle to the many known gangs.

With care, Bartholomew bent down to gently set his violin case next to his bed. Despite being a rabbit, his breed made him far bigger than others of his species. At nearly seven feet tall, not counting ears, he was taller than most mammals in general.

This did not mean he was strong or intimidating. So he had learned from an early age that the less one said in Averice, the better. His childhood had been spent learning the craft he now mastered and while the serenaded sounds of a violin could bring smiles to many, it did not make hardened fists.

The day had been an unusual one. The king had been sternly uninterested in Bartholomew's music and the few royal children he saw had that scheming look to them, more so than usual anyway. As a personal rule, the gentle giant went out of his way to not listen to what business was discussed in the throne room. Yet despite his best efforts key phrases and statements always reached his keen hearing.

"Victor holds no protection of the throne."

"No longer bound to the rules of the game."

"Any son or daughter that finds him may openly kill him."

With a weary sigh, Bartholomew laid down on his slightly too small bed. He had always liked Victor more or less. While none of the children of the Golden King could really be trusted, it was Victor who had gotten Bartholomew in as the court musician.

'What have you done know,' he thought with worry.

He had never been sure on exactly why the royal bear had shown him such favor, they were not what the rabbit would call friends. Maybe he just really liked Bartholomew's musical skills and singing? It was a nice thought but a very unlikely one.

But if Prince Victor had really been disowned than that put a very unwanted target on Bartholomew's back. He had heard on more than one occasion the other royal children referring to him as 'Prince Victor's pet' and 'the performing peasant'.

While the King seemed to enjoy Bartholomew's talents, a royal musician could always be replaced. Without Victor to watch his back in this den of vipers, that future seemed all too likely an outcome. Even more worrying was that he hadn't seen Victor at all today, which only confirmed the circulating rumors.

Bartholomew considered simple fleeing the castle, though that prospect seemed more likely to result in a worse outcome than his current situation. As other half considered plans ran through his mind, he was interrupted quite abruptly.

"Barth!" A sharp, impatient voice called out from the window.

His ears twitching slightly, Bartholomew rose from his bed, frowning at the shortening of his name. Glancing out the window, he realized Prince Victor wasn't so missing as he first thought.

"What are you doing?" Bartholomew asked, perplexed by how exactly the royal bear even got out there.

Bartholomew's room was located in a small tower, residing in the south wing of the castle. The same side that was built near a cliffside of the island overlooking jagged rocks half submerged in violent waters.

Victor Crowley, prince and eligible successor to the Throne of Power had made his way on the very narrow path that unstably resided between castle walls and a deadly fall to the depths themselves. To the royal's credit, he didn't seem worried or fearful of falling. If anything, the clever bear had that glint in his eye that signaled he had a plan and pity on those that tried to stop him.

"Well I'm not out here to court you," he responded in a rather snarky tone.

Rolling his eyes, Bartholomew resisted in taking that bait. Whatever reason, the bear enjoyed making such jabs at Bartholomew, the musician did his best to take them in jest.

"Obviously," Barth's tone was dry, making his face an unreadable mask. "Heard you were banished or something," being a rabbit of few words, Bartholomew liked to get to the point of any situation.

"That is a greatly exaggerated rumor," Victor corrected elegantly. "I prefer viewing it as bargained exile complete with benefits."

As usual, Prince Victor was talking a lot without actually saying anything. In response, the musician simply relied on what he did best in a conversation, not answering and just waiting for the other party to keep talking.

A few moments past, Victor no doubt waiting for some kind of reply. When non came he merely shook his head. "You always can kill my fun. I'm here to get you out of the castle."

That was surprising news, so much so it nearly broke Barth's reserved expression.

"Why?"

Disregarding Bartholomew's concerns just moments before, the truth was he wasn't really a prisoner. There was a good chance King Marcus would allow him to return home if he simply asked. Equal chances were that the King could make an absurd request first, like in demanding repayment of Bartholomew's earnings while employed.

That's what was wrong with the man known as The Golden King. Unless he was benefiting from a bargain, he was not known for reacting kindly to requests.

"Maybe I'm trying to do something nice for a friend."

Bartholomew stopped himself from rolling his eyes and simply nodded. Prince Victor was definitely trying to manipulate him, now it was a matter of knowing why.

"No, you're not." He informed the prince. Or maybe it was former prince? Barth wasn't clear on how royalty worked in those cases.

Even from this high up, Bartholomew could still see the flash of irritation run through the bear's eyes as he held off a growl. After composing himself, Victor gave the musician an almost genuine smile.

"That's one of the things I've always liked about you my friend. You just see right past the politics and want the heart of the matter." Crossing his arms, Victor continued to look up at Bartholomew. "I'm leaving here and I'm not coming back. So seeing as I was the one who brought you into the castle, I would actually feel bad if my brothers were to make sport out of you to take out their jealous on me."

"I...can't." Bartholomew admitted, his voice softening as he realized the prince may actually care what happens to him. "Whatever they do I still need the work."

"Your mother and sisters?"

Barth only nodded to the question, knowing no explanation was needed. It was no secret where Bartholomew was from, what a large family he had. As the oldest and only male in the house, he worked as hard as he could so his sisters didn't have to. Their mother had been sick for a long time and medicine, like most everything in Averice was not cheap.

Victor never offered sympathy to Bartholomew's circumstances and homelife, only a respectful understanding.

"Well then, I think you'll appreciate the next step in my plan. Part of my 'exile' came with a rather large and equally nice ship. It may be more work than what you are use to, but if everything goes to plan then you will have plenty of gold to send home," with a pause, Victor allowed Barth to process that. "Now I won't lie. You will most likely never be rich from this, but your family can at least finally have a more comfortable living."

With a sigh, Bartholomew realized there was no way to say no. Wither he was being manipulated or just offered an olive branch, it seemed Prince Victor would be getting what he wanted as usual.

"Wait, you know how to sail a ship?" The question gained Bartholomew a rare sight, Prince Victor momentarily silenced.

"I...not exactly," the prince carefully admitted. "But that's why I have Urch coming along."

The unreadable mask of Bath's dropped away as he slowly frowned, now having second thoughts on his recent agreement. "The drunk you scheme with in alleys?"

"We do not scheme and he..." Once again at a loss on how to spin this, Victor sighed as he gathered his thoughts. "I will be the first to admit, Urch has his many vices, but they are also understandable given his life. However he is the only one I know who trusts me enough that has the slightest bit of seafaring knowledge. I am working with what I can get here big guy."

Bartholomew didn't like it. He didn't know much but he knew out at sea you needed to trust those you were with or you died, soul lost to the depths. Though he liked Victor, Barth did not trust him and he certainly didn't trust that jackel that the prince called friend.

Before he called out his refusal, Victor spoke again. "Jess is coming along, you remember her?" Bartholomew nodded that he did. "She's a tough bat and can definitely keep Urch in line. He won't be a problem."

'But can she keep you inline,' he wanted to ask, instead holding his tongue.

Bartholomew had only met Jessica twice. She seemed nice and independent, supposedly hot headed but she had never been so to him. Barth thought that maybe, just maybe he could trust her.

"Okay," he finally said, his answer making Victor grin.

"Good man, now let's go before anyone notices I'm here."

Giving a reluctant nod, Bartholomew turned away from the window. Eyes scanned over the meger room, he quickly pondering what he should take with him. The rabbit didn't own much in the ways of possessions and the few sparse cloths he kept had been provided to him by the castle. There was really just own item that had any really value to Bartholomew.

Picking up his violin case, he walked with resignation towards the door.

"Where are you going?!" Victor hollowered up at him.

Doing his absolute best not to sigh, Bartholomew returned to the window. "I was leaving like you wanted."

"Through the castle?" Barth was going to nod a confirmation, but Victor went right on. "That is a very bad idea. If you try to leave through the front gates one of my siblings will no doubt stop you, at best they'll demand to know where you are going. They know I am vulnerable and will be gathering my allies. Like it or not my friend, they know you as my allie."

Instead of feeling annoyed, Bartholomew tried to think of away around this problem that he hadn't even realized would be an issue. "Have a better idea?" He asked after thinking of no solution.

For only a moment, he could have sworn he saw a sheepish expression on the Prince's face. It was gone so quickly that it'd be easy to write off as a trick of the dim light caused by the setting sun.

"Truthfully I had intended for you to simply jump out your window onto the ledge. Though the folly in that plan was evident once I saw just how little room is out here."

Barth had to frown at that. Even if there had been plenty of room to land, he still wouldn't have jumped out of the window. "So back to just leaving through the front gate?"

That mad glint flashed through Victor's eyes as he grinned up at the musician. "Actually, I believe that can work after all."

***

Though the halls winding through the castle looked and sounded deserted, Bartholomew felt many eyes upon him as he steadily walked for the exit to this fortress. He did not know the exact number of offspring the Golden King had accumulated, but each one was cunning and deadly in their own right.

Prince Victor's plan, much like the bear himself, was half mad half clever. Used against normal folk Bartholomew would guess it was guaranteed to work. Against the other royals, those just as devious and manipulative as Victor, Bartholomew had his doubts.

Then there was the issue of getting to the mainland. Even if Bartholomew made it out of the castle, the Golden King's island home was about a mile from Avarice itself. Any boat coming or going would easily be noticed and Bartholomew couldn't swim. He would have to leave those details to Victor.

Gripping his violin case a bit tighter than needed, obviously caused by his worrying, Bartholomew saw the main doors to the castle. Unfortunately that was not the only thing that waited ahead of him. Standing with an air of authority was one of the ursa royals. Barth couldn't remember her name but he recognized her atier.

It was similar to a suit, but the design and style was not made in the traditional since. The color was a deep burgundy with the image of white roses stitched into the shoulders. There was no collar on the jacket, a favorite look for the more wealthy ranchers that lived in the open range outside the borders of the Eastern Kingdoms. And while the suit may have looked good on others, it did not go well with this bear's fur. Not as dark furred as Prince Victor and not having lighter fur like their father, it left her with a dull brown color that just seemed to get lost next to the overpowering burgundy.

"Well now," she spoke in a deceptively innocent voice. "If it isn't my dear brother's pet pesant. Awfully late for you to be wondering around isn't it?"

The insulting title didn't offend him, it was the tone she said it that worried the musician. Relying on his will power and years of experience living in the castle, Bartholomew kept a stoic, neutral expression on his face. "Felt like playing some in the garden before bed." To emphasize his point, Bartholomew held up his violin case.

Wither the Princess believed him or suspected him of a lie was impossible for Barth to tell. Her eyes merely stayed on him as if she was looking at a toy she might want to break.

"That a fact?" Even though Bartholomew nodded to her question, she made no attempt to move out of his path.

If the royal was intent on stopping Bartholomew, he knew he would have no recourse. Even if he dared try and over power her, that would no doubt end with him as a bloody corpse on the stone floor. He may have height over her, but she possessed far more brute strength than him.

Whatever failed plan he could have come up with thankfully wouldn't be put to the test. The doors to the castle opened and a familiar bat stepped inside. Recognizing Jess on sight, Barth refrained from sighing with relief.

"There you are," she said, trace hints of annoyance in her voice. "You were supposed to be at The Chalice and hour ago big guy, lets go."

It was direct, simple and artfully did not concern the Princess. With a nod, Bartholomew stepped around the bear and joined Jess who was already turning to lead him out.

If only it was that simple.

"Hold," the authoritative tone of the royal stopped them in their tracks. Though he didn't want to, Bartholomew looked back at the bear and he knew Jess was doing the same. "I know you," she said in an accusing tone to Jess.

Instinctively, Bartholomew took a step back, watching closely as the Princess stepped closer to them. Her eyes were fixed on the bat, studying her with uncertain recognition.

"Can't say that we've met," Jess answered in a clam voice that Barth highly doubted she actually felt.

Despite the intense scrutiny the Princess was giving Jess, there was no sign of her placing the bat as Victor's girlfriend. Bartholomew could only hope that was a good thing. But as the silence seemed to weigh down the moment, he had a fleeting idea of hitting the Princess over the head with his violin case. The chances of actually knocking out the bear were slim and while it may have been selfish, Bartholomew really didn't want to risk damaging his instrument.

"Maybe not," The Princess agreed. "What do you want with the court's musician?"

"It's his off hours right? My boss and other local bar owners like to hire him to play nights. Keeps the drunks distracted from causing trouble."

It was an outright lie though so masterfully told that Bartholomew nearly believed it himself. No wonder Victor had sent her in to help him escape, had it been Barth forced to lie through his teeth than he'd been found out for sure.

Before their bear inquisitor could ask any more questions, Jess continued, "If there's nothing else we need to get going. Though if you want to hear him play you're welcome to accompany us to The Chalice." The smile Barth saw on Jess' face made him suspect she knew just how much she had insulted the Princess by inviting her to such a lowly establishment.

With a scoff, the Princess looked at the two of them with disgust. "Well run along then, you don't want to keep the bar flies waiting."

Bartholomew could tell Jess wanted to say more, but thankfully she bit back her words. Rejoining her side the two made a hasty retreat, Barth being the gentle rabbit he was made a point to open the door for Jess.

"One more thing," the Princess called after them with a wicked smirk on her face. "If you happen to see Victor, be sure to ask him how he's enjoying his exile."

A sense of dread ran through Bartholomew's spin. She clearly suspected them of being up to something, the real question now was what she'd plan to do with that suspicion. Not wanting to find out, both he and Jess quickened their steps out the castle, hurrying down the long path that would take them to the shore.

"We're not going to the dock?" He asked, not slowing his stride as he followed Jess.

"Vic's got a rowboat on the west side of the island," she explained. "Shouldn't be noticeable from the castle but we have to hurry. Once it's sundown he's officially no longer an Avarice Prince."

Bartholomew wasn't sure on what consequences that would mean for Victor, but given Jess' urgent words he assumed it wasn't good. Glancing to the sun that was now touching the horizon, he guessed it would be only minutes before they were out of time.