DeFrosted

Chapter 4

*Flashback*

(Kingdom of the Southern Isles)

A travel wearied messenger pleads with the guards at the gates of King Westergaard's castle.

Prince Vernon The 3rd eldest of the 13, well now formally 12 princes of Westergaard notices the commotion as he walks by.

A hush fell over the men as the prince appeared, though already in his late 30's he still cut a striking figure in the traditional white colors worn by Westergaard princes.

"Lieutenant, what seems to be the matter?" The royal man asked.

"Your highness..." Both men fumbled to perform the slight bow that is expected when in the presence of nobility.

"This man is talking gibberish, says he is a courier from Arendale, with an urgent message from Queen Anna. Sir, the queen of Arendale is called Elsa, there is no queen called Anna." The stout gate sentry informed the prince.

"Your highness If you would just let me explain." The skinny, acne faced teenager pleaded.

"Go on.."
Prince Vernon, seeing no malice or signs of insanity on the boy, urged him to continue.

"I must have an audience with the king. Queen Elsa is dead. Queen Anna, her sister, was crowned 2 weeks ago."

The color drained from the princes face. Elsa and Anna were the Women his scheming baby brother had nearly destroyed.

"Guards, let this man in right away."

Minutes later in the throne room, King Charles sat upon his throne, avidly listening to the frightening tale the young man laid out in front of him.

He stroked his pepper grey red beard as the boy told him how the neighboring country of Arendale had fallen under siege to the ruthless Vikings. The scum of the world, who preferred to pillage and conquer, rather then to adopt diplomacy. How the beautiful young queen had valiantly fought them off until her death, but upon her death, her magic had cursed the country into another endless winter.

The news had washed a wave of woe over the aging king, as the Vikings would surely attempt to conquer his kingdom next if they succeeded with Arendale. But he also knew, with his sufficient and trained army's, as well as 13, well now 12 sons to run it, The Southern Isles would be more then a match for them. But, if he sent any of his sons or army, it would leave the country weaker, more susceptible to to the barbarians, should they attack.

He did owe a large debt of gratitude to the late Queen though, for not executing his youngest and most wayward son on the spot for his gravious misdeeds. Sending troops to aid the young sister in her time of need would honorably repay that debt.

But sending any of his sons to lead them would likely be a suicide mission, as the commander is always the first to be killed upon capture. Most of his sons were either married or betrothed, and the thought of his orders purposely leaving any of his grandchildren fatherless was almost to much for the old king to bear.

A thought occurred to King Charles after the courier had finished speaking.

"Thank you young man, your loyalty to your kingdom is admirable. You will receive aid from us. Now please rest and eat, you appear so thin it looks as though you might snap in half."

The young man breathed a deep sigh of relief before bowing deeply to the king.

Once a servant had escorted the lad out of the throne room and towards the kitchen, the king turned to prince Vernon, who had stood silently at his fathers side the entire time.

"Fetch your brother from the dungeon." He ordered.

Prince Vernon's eyes widened in surprise, stunned silent for a moment. But knowing better, he did not argue.

"As you wish." He replied with a respectful nod.

Along with 2 guards, He made his way to the stone dungeon deep below the castle. Taking the key from warden he walked to his little brothers cell and rapped on the bars.

The disgraced younger prince lay on his cot, eyes closed and hands folded across his chest. 6 months in prison had not been kind, His once spotless royal white suit, now tattered and stained, his once often and expertly trimmed red hair was longer and unkept.

"Ahh brother Vernon, to what do I owe the pleasure? Or are you here to mock me as the rest of our siblings already have?" He asked without getting up.

"Get up Hans, father wishes to see you."

Minutes later the guards pushed Hans down onto his knees before King Charles.

"Father..." The prisoner said through gritted teeth.

"Do you wish to redeem yourself my son?" The king questioned.

Down on the floor, the prince who had been stripped of his title, raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

"Not particularly, Iv become quite fond of my new home in the dungeon." Smirked the ever still so arrogant former prince.

The king rolled his eyes, not fond of the sarcasm.

"Do you wish your title reinstated?"

On this, Hans expression gained seriousity. Redemption never really interested him, but to be given back his title, position and power as prince, now that did.

"I'm listening."

And listen he did. His father repeated to him the news he had been told earlier, then gave him an ultimatum.

Take a battalion to Arendale, aid in the defeat of the Viking armada, and be reinstated. Or go back to the nice cosy, rat infested cell.

"I'll do it." The prince agreed immediately after the words were out of his fathers mouth.

"There is more." The king added sternly.

"This is a do or die trying mission. If you leave, you must return victorious. If the siege is not stopped, or If you abandon Arendale and return you will be executed as a deserter."

The king stood up and gravely continued. He knew of his youngest sons ability for deception, and wanted to leave not one loophole.

"And if even a single strand of hair is harmed on Anna, I will sail over there and execute you myself." There was not a trace of doubt in King Charles voice.

Do or die trying...

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Thanks for reading, I hope you guys are enjoying this book! Please don't forget to vote! Comments, (good or bad) are always appreciated. Till next time! -GeekPower1