The Royal Slave

Part 2

Written by Jean-Christophe

 Part 2: The Palace Coup

As we return to the royal palace, the day is drawing to its inevitable close. As the sun sinks slowly behind the highest mountain peaks it cast long shadows across the hills and valleys surrounding the city. In the fields, slaves, already exhausted after a day of back-breaking labour are being cruelly exhorted by their whipmasters to work harder in one final burst of energy before they are marched away and chained in their stables for the night.

As we approach, the gleaming white marble of the royal compound is suffused in the golden glow of the setting sun’s last rays and presents a pleasing sight. After a day of hunting wild animals and fucking acquiescent slaves, I for one, look forward to bathing and dressing before joining my father and brother for our evening meal together.

This morning, bored as usual, I had decided on a day of hunting with my closest palace companions in the nearby forests. We’d set out early, accompanied by a retinue of male slaves to act as beaters and bearers and to dress whatever game we killed and then to carry it back to the royal kitchens. We had been moderately successful and several deer, wild boars and various other smaller animals and birds fell victims to our arrows and spears. Over the next few days, they are destined for the roasting-spits and cooking-pots of the royal kitchens.

As is usual with such hunts it wasn’t only the animal prey, we were interested in. Of more attraction was the “semi-human prey” who accompanied us. These were especially attractive, young male slaves – chosen by me – because of their physical agility, good looks and muscular physiques as well as their sensuous lips, deep throats and pert, tight arses which gave promise of much sport. At a given time, usually after we’d eaten our mid-day meal, these prey slaves had tinkling bells attached to their collars and cock-rings and were sent into the surrounding forest where they scattered in all directions. After a period of time the slave-hunt began as our slave bearers followed them beating drums and cymbals to drive the prey from the tree cover into open ground where I and my companions with nets and ropes ready to take them as “trophies”.

Upon capture, the slaves were bound hand and foot and carried back to our camp suspended by their wrists and ankles on long poles carried on the shoulders of our bearers much like the carcasses of our wild prey. Naturally, once we’d returned to our base camp, we claimed our reward for a successful hunt and the prey slaves were enthusiastically fucked.

Altogether, it had been a most enjoyable day but now, tired and grimy from the hunt, I am ready to return to the palace.

The palace compound lies on the northern fringe of the city and as we approach, I notice the streets are virtually deserted with most shops and market-stalls shuttered. This puzzles me; usually at this time they are hives of activity as the merchants close up shop and prepare for another cold nigh indoors.

Approaching the palace, I notice nothing amiss. The royal standard flutters in the breeze, the gates into the palace are guarded and as is customary my uncle’s soldiers patrol the wall perimeter.

However, as we enter into the stable court-yard, The duty guards appear indifferent and don’t offer me the royal salute due to me as the king’s son. Instead, they ignore me and close the heavy, wooden gates behind my party. I am angered by this show of disrespect and vow to have the sentries flogged.

Sitting astride my horse, I wait for a naked stable slave to hurry forward and to crouch on all fours offering is back as a dismounting stool as is usual protocol for member of the royal family. Disconcerted, I wait in vain and for the first time I become concerned. Obviously, something is wrong and I don’t know what.

Suddenly, the captain of the guard accompanied by two burly soldiers approaches me and perfunctorily orders me to dismount. His tone lacks the respect I am accustomed to as a royal prince and I refuse to do as he orders.

I don’t see the furtive nod of the captain’ head but both guards move swiftly and drag me from my saddle. Now I feel fear; an emotion totally unknown to me as no man has ever dared laid his hands upon my royal body unless I have allowed it as part of my sexual encounters. My body has been violated and my royal dignity impugned. This is tantamount to treason punishable by death and I vow that tomorrow they will lose their heads. Even my noble companions gasp in shock and murmur among themselves.

Before I have a chance to protest, the guard captain speaks.

“By orders of the Royal Council of the King’s Advisors, I have orders to detain you. You will come with me and offer no resistance!”

Momentarily, I am disconcerted. However, I soon regain my composure and in my most authoritative voice, I demand the captain to

“Take me to the King. NOW!!!”

In the background my companions are talking loudly among themselves no doubt as confused as I am by this unprecedented turn of events. I can only assume that the king’s advisors – at least those who have spoken derogatively of me in the past – have made another complaint against me and I am being called to explain. Of course, I don’t know the nature of their complaint but I will defend myself in the presence of my father the king.

The captain ignores my command; instead, he addresses my companions.

“I speak with the authority of the King’s Council and my advice to you young noblemen would be to dismount and return immediately to your quarters. Your parents are no doubt anxious for your return and they will give you an explanation of today’s events. You may leave your horses to be unsaddled, groomed and fed by the stable slaves who will also take your kills to the kitchens. Now please dismount and return to your parents.”

My companions take the captain’s advice and dismount from their horses and disperse to their quarters in the palace. They mutter quietly among themselves and no doubt they are as non-plussed as I am with this turn of events. My mind is in turmoil but I tell myself all will be well when I am given the chance to speak to my father, the king.

The captain calls for stable slaves to come and take charge of the horses and return them to the stables. Then, he indicates that I am to follow him into the palace precincts. We are at the rear of the vast palace complex – the area where the kitchens and their ancillary storerooms are located together with the overnight slave-quarters – while the royal chambers and state-rooms are at the front of the palace overlooking the vast ceremonial square immediately in front of it and beyond it into the city itself.

I expected that I would be taken to an audience with the king and my accusers but instead the captain takes me into a part of the palace I am unfamiliar with and seldom visit. We pass by the kitchens and I catch a glimpse of numerous, sweat-glistening slaves busily preparing tonight’s meals. I feel the furnace like heat fuelled by the numerous ovens and open spits and note the wretched slaves working under the canes and quirts of their overseers. We continue past the slaves’ sleeping quarters with its straw-strewn, cobblestoned floor and finally pass a sinister room euphemistically called “The Room of Truth” but in reality, it is the palace’s torture chamber with its grim collection of implements of persuasion and coercion.

We move further down into the bowels of the palace; I am half-dragged, half-hustled along darkened passageways and down several flights of well-worn stone steps. Here, there are no windows and no natural light. The air is rank and the darkness is all encompassing and only relieved by an occasional torch spluttering in a cast-iron sconce attached to the damp walls. The flickering flames of the torches cast an eerie orange glow amid the blackness and emphasises the sinister feel of this place. Why am I being brought here?

Suddenly, I am afraid; very afraid!

Finally, we enter a chamber surrounded by several dungeons and I am given into the charge of a gaoler and his assistants.

The captain tells the gaoler that I am to be locked in the same cell as “the other prisoner” and that no harm is to come me. Then he watches as the gaoler’s assistants prepare me for my imprisonment. Moving swiftly – obviously they are experts at this – as the captain’s soldiers hold me firmly in their grasp, the gaoler’s assistants use their knives to cut away my clothing. I protest and try to struggle all to no avail. Soon, I am as naked as any palace slave with the shredded remnants of my garments hanging in tatters from my body. Then comes the final indignity as a collar is placed around my neck and my wrists and ankles re shackled.

The gaoler unlocks a cell door and I am ceremonially dragged into its dark interior. By now I am in a state of shock and offer no resistance as I am seated against a wall and chained into place. Later, I will find my movements are restricted to standing, squatting or sitting. My fetters allow me the minimum of movement.

The gaolers leave and as the heavy wooden door slams shut, I am left in the gloom of the unlit dungeon’s interior. So great is my terror, that all of a sudden, I begin to tremble uncontrollably and I vomit violently.

Eventually my vomiting stops - but not my trembling - and as my eyes adjust to the cell’s gloom, I realise I am not alone. Against the opposite wall another naked prisoner sits in chains with his shoulders hunched forward, his head between his knees and his body wracked by uncontrollable sobbing.

It takes me several minutes to regain some of my composure before I speak to my fellow prisoner.

“Hello!” I greet him and then ask the obvious question. “Do you know why we are here?”

The sound of my voice startles him and he asks

“Sanjay, is that you?”

He raises his head and looks at me and to my horror, I recognise the prisoner is my older brother, Pradhi. Like me he is as naked as the day our mother gave birth to us and in chains.

“Pradhi, yes, it is me, Sanjay. But please tell me what is happening to us. Why are we imprisoned?”

Once more, Pradhi begins to weep and I wait impatiently for him to answer. Finally, he recovers his composure. He looks directly at me and I note his tear-stained face and eyes reddened and swollen from his weeping. My own anxiety level is approaching breaking point and I grow impatient for Pradhi’s answer. However, I am unprepared for what he tells me and it shocks me to the core of my being.

Finally, through his sobs, he blurts out

“Sanjay, our father ….” he hesitates and is wracked once more with his weeping before blurting out, “…… our father, the king is dead.”

His words hit me like a sledgehammer and momentarily, I am left speechless as his words register with me. Did I hear correct? Did Pradhi just tell me that our father, the king of our nation is dead? In my disbelief, I simply ask

“Do you speak the truth? How did our father die.?”

“Our father died suddenly and unexpectedly this morning at a meeting with some of his ministers. He complained of a chest pain and collapsed. The royal physician hurried to the scene but on arrival, he declared our father had died of a sudden heart attach and that death was immediate.”

I struggle to comprehend this. My father had been aged in his mid-forties, strong, healthy and with the promise of many more years of life before him. I cursed the capriciousness of the gods who’d cut short his life. Then, the realisation that Pradhi is now king by birthright registers.  But if this is so, why is he – like me – naked and in chains incarcerated in a dungeon deep with the bowels of the palace. That is my next question.

Pradhi is short of detail on what followed and can only tell me the facts as he knows them. After the king’s sudden and unexpected death, pandemonium reigned within the palace until the Lord Chamberlain took control and wrote the proclamation of the king’s sudden passing to be posted on the palace gates. At the same time, he wrote the edict declaring that Crown Prince Pradhi was now our new king but before he had a chance to act on these, a group of nobles and advisors to the late king stage a “palace coup”. They detained the chamberlain and confined him to his quarters as they moved swiftly to take control.

Pradhi first learnt about the coup when he was arrested and escorted to the dungeon where we are both imprisoned. Other than that, he knows of no other details about the coup and we are left wondering what is happening.

Suddenly, I am very afraid for both our sakes. It would appear that my brother’s throne is being usurped but by whom and for what purpose is unclear. This leaves us in the most precarious of situations and I fear for our lives.

 

To be continued …………..