Introduction (A Very very rough draft)
“Sire.” The voice was soft and very close to Jarom’s ear. “Your father, the king, as well as all your brothers and your sister have been killed.” He was awake now.
As Jarom started to sit up he felt his wife stir in the bed beside him. She too had been awakened by a whisper in her ear. He turned to look at Hedle his servant.
“How?” was all he could manage to say.
“Your uncle Madtis, ordered the deaths, they and all their children. You are next so we must hurry.”
His wife had started to wrap a cloak around her. She moved slowly, her pregnant belly making it difficult to hurry. The baby was due within the next moon. As his mind grasped hold of what he had been told, his right hand started to shake. The shaking moved up his arm then enveloped his entire frame. He quickly turned his head and retched, Hedle held him until it had passed.
“Sire, we must leave, please hurry.”
Jarom gathered the robe he was handed, then turned to help his wife, only to find her, assisted by Hedle’s wife, already going through the secret door located behind the bed. He quickly followed. They made their way down the stairs until they reached a small wooden door. Hedle quickly moved ahead and slowly opened the door. He looked around then motioned for them to come forward. As Jarom assisted his wife out of the doorway he was relieved to see her father nearby, sitting on a wagon seat. Upon seeing them he quickly dismounted, hugged his daughter and helped her into the back of the wagon.
“Stay still now children and old papa will get you to safety.”
As Jarom helped his wife settle in the back of the wagon, Papa spoke softly.
“Hand me that jug will you please.”
“What’s this, Rum?”
“Only the finest.” Papa replied with a smile.
“But you don’t drink Papa.” Jarom said with a puzzled expression.
“You and I know that, but others may not.” Then Papa took off the top of the jug, raised it to his lips and let a small amount flow in as he tilted the jug. His head, following the jug backwards, he swished the foul smelling liquid around his mouth before he bent to the side and spit it out.
“Now, get up in there next to your wife so I can cover you.” Papa said as he poured the remaining rum from the jug onto his robe.
As Jarom climbed into the back of the wagon he noticed Papa take a wooden bucket from the ground and place it carefully at the front of the wagon.
“What’s that?” Jarom asked pointing to the bucket.
“Oh just a little something in case we need some help getting out of the city. Sometimes the best way to hide something is to make those looking for it not notice what they are looking for. And the best way to make them not notice is to make sure they are busy looking somewhere else. The grand art of deception.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Don’t worry about it. I will get you two safely out of here. Now move in closer together. That’s it, now not a sound no matter what you two, understand?” They both shook their heads slowly.
“Love you Papa.” Jarom’s wife said in a voice that was tinged with fear, tears and confusion.
“I love you too. You have a good man, I’ve always thought so. You know that.”
Jarom fought back the tears as he settled in next to his wife, gently cradling her in his right arm he took hold of her hand with left. Papa was looking over them, the smell of rum filling the air as he shook his arms, then the night sky was lost due to an old blanket Papa spread over them, it smelled of time, dust and something rotten, but somehow gave a sense of comfort. Once covered, Jarom felt objects hitting his legs, then around his head. A potato came rolling in from a opening. They were being covered up by spuds.
“Hold still, while I get us out of the city. The guards are moving about more than usual and it is only a matter of time before they find you gone.” Papa spoke softly at the side of the wagon.
“Is Hedle still there?” Jarom spoke just as soft.
“I’m here sire.”
“Thank you, come find us if you can once things settle down.”
“Don’t tell me where you are going, I would hate to betray you through the pain they may cause.” Hedle replied, his voice starting to crack from emotion. “If we can, we will find you sire. The Gods bless and keep you both.” And with that the wagon lurched forward and started to roll.
The ride was slow, all the better in order to avoid attracting attention. They should be safe. His wife was a common girl and most of the kingdom hadn’t bother to even learn her name let alone her family when they had been married. Even his own family barely acknowledge her. Being the 6th son of a King with no real chance of ever attaining the throne, made it easy to simply ignore Jarom and his bride. They would be safe. Most of the public about the city this early morn would not give an old potato farmer in a wagon a second thought. Those that did would soon dismiss it.
“Halt the wagon man.”
The wagon stopped as Jarom heard footsteps approach them.
"Fine morning to you young sir." Papa said. His speech sounding muffled and slurred.
"What's in the wagon?"
"Spuds for seeding, can't grow em without using some."
"We have to check all wagons and coaches leaving the city, by order of Prince Madtis."
"Well, if he wanted some of my spuds all he had to do was ask. I thought I saw his servants in the market yesterday." Jarom could hear Papas voice getting louder as the wagon tilted with Papa dismounting. The sound of a jug breaking accompanied by swearing from the guard and mumbling from Papa came through the covering. Jarom heard scrapping on the side of the wagon where Papa had put the covered bucket.
“How many of these spuds do you think he wants?" Papa said sounding very drunk. Jarom could hear his wife breathing start to become harder as they felt the blanket move. Suddenly, a smell of rotten food made its way through the blanket covering them.
"By the gods man! These are rotten!" shouted the guard
"Only some,” Papa slurred. “I'll make sure I don't get too many of them in the basket for the prince." Papa then let out a loud belch. "So sorry, guess the potato’s aren't the only things rotten, good thing it didn’t come out the other end heh?
"Get out of here old man and take your stinking wagon with you. Go on I have important things to take care of."
"As you wish young man, as you wish." Papa replied.
Jarom felt him climb back to the wagon seat. The wagon started rolling again, it was then that he noticed he had been holding his wife’s hand so tightly that her fingers were a bluish color.
"Sorry love." he whispered as he kissed the top of her forehead. She just smiled then relaxed in his embrace.
The wagon rolled on for some time. Jarom wasn’t sure how long since he kept dozing in and out. Occasionally he would be awakened by Papa singing some tavern song in a loud slurred voice.
Jarom felt his wife stiffen and heard her moan as he came fully awake for the second time this night. The wagon had stopped moving, the cover was pulled off them and Papa’s concerned face peered down, the morning sky behind his head.
“Are you all right?” he asked of his daughter.
She moaned and tried to sit up. Jarom felt a wet warmth on his legs.
“Her waters broken” Papa said as he started to pull of his robes.
“What? …Now?” Jarom replied.
“Yes now. The baby is coming. Get the whip so she can bite on it, then quickly build a fire and warm some blankets.”
Jarom did as he was bidden. As the flames from his small sparker grew he turned to notice his father in law in the wagon bent over talking softly. The airs stillness was broken by a baby’s cry. Jarom could hear nothing more as the world went black around him.
“You awake? Want to see your son?” Papas voice sounded in Jarom’s head. At the word son the blackness started again only to be chased away as he felt his body be lifted up, his legs forced to move. “Oh no you don’t, your wife and son need you.” Came Papa’s voice again.
Jarom’s wits slowly returned as he felt Papa drag him around the small clearing. Jarom had not noticed where they had stopped before. The heat of the mid day hit him as he remembered the last words he had hear.
“I have a son?”
Papa smiled so large that his face almost disappeared. “A fine boy he is, just like his Grand Papa.”
Jarom looked over by the wagon. His wife sat on the ground her back supported by the rear wheel. In her arms a small bundle. As he approached he notices the small face buried in her breast. A small white liquid slowly ran down the cheek. Jarom began to cry. “My son”
His wife cried too, as he buried his head in her hair. The horror of all that had happened over the past night came into his thoughts. His entire family gone, yet he was crying tears of joy because of this new family. He looked at Papa and spoke.
“Thank you for our lifes Papa. Thank you for everything.”
“That’s quite alright my boy. I’d do anything for you kids, I think you’ll soon understand that.” He motined toward the babys black head still feeding. “What are you going to call him?”
Jarom’s wife spoke, “Jarom Thadius Dell Belalee, after his father and both his grandfathers.”
“That’s quite a mouth full” Papa said. “And it might not be to wise to advertise just who you three are yet. What with your uncle and all.”
“My Uncle will pay someday for this” Jarom muttered softly
“Well since he was born in the back of this wagon among a load of potatoes,” Papa spoke, acting as if he hadn’t heard what Jarom had said. “I think you should call him spud”
“Spud” Jarom said softly
“Spud” His wife replied. “That will be just fine.” She then started to coo as her fingers traced the outlines of Spuds face.
Jarom looked away. “Spud it will be, that is until he can claim his rightful throne and name.”
They all laughed as little Spud let out a burp to rival the one made by Papa earlier in the night.
