Princelings Revolution

By Jemima Pett

Jasmine's birthday party ends in disaster. George seems to have lost a phial of highly dangerous liquid. And Fred, well, King Fred is battling politics, relatives and self-serving dignitaries in his aim to give the people a better way of living.

The planes are crashing, the people are angry at the changes and shortages. King Fred puts democracy to the test and finds it's not all it's cracked up to be. And things are going from bad to worse...

Above all this there is a promise Fred wants to keep. A promise to an engaging chap he made when he was a mere stripling, when he persuaded Lord Marius of Hattan to stop the Great Energy Drain.

What will happen if he fails?

The tenth and final book of the Princelings of the East series brings our heroes to the brink of disaster. The Realms will never be the same again - but how will Fred, George, Jasmine, Willoughby and all the others fare?

An intriguing fantasy mystery adventure for readers aged 10 and upwards.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Princelings Publications
• Release date: Oct 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463625187

Jemima Pett

Jemima Pett has been living in a world of her own for many years. Writing stories since she was eight, drawing maps of fantasy islands with train systems and timetables at ten. Unfortunately no-one wanted a fantasy island designer, so she tried a few careers, getting great experiences in business, environmental research and social work. She finally got back to building her own worlds, and wrote about them. Her business background enabled her to become an independent author, responsible for her own publications.Her first series, the Princelings of the East, mystery adventures for advanced readers set in a world of tunnels and castles entirely populated by guinea pigs, is now complete. The tenth and final book, Princelings Revolution, came out in October 2020. Jemima does chapter illustrations for these. She has also edited two volumes of Christmas stories for young readers, the BookElves Anthologies, and her father's memoirs White Water Landings, about the Imperial Airways flying boat service in Africa. She has compiled four collections of flash fiction tales, publishing in the first half of 2021. She is now writing the third in her science fiction series set in the Viridian System, in which the aliens include sentient trees.Jemima lived in a village in Norfolk with her guinea pigs, the first of whom, Fred, George, Victor and Hugo, provided the inspiration for her first stories, The Princelings of the East. She is now living in Hampshire, writing science fiction for grown-ups, hatching plans for a new series, and writing more short stories for anthologies.

Book preview

Princelings Revolution

The Princelings of the East Book 10

Last in the series

by Jemima Pett

Cover illustration by Danielle English kanizo.co.uk

Chapter illustrations by the author jemimapett.com

Edition: Smashwords 1.0

© J M Pett 2020

Published by Princelings Publications, Hampshire, UK

The Princelings of the East series:

The Princelings of the East

The Princelings and the Pirates

The Princelings and the Lost City

The Traveler in Black and White

The Talent Seekers

Bravo Victor

Willoughby the Narrator

The Princelings of the North

Chronicles of Marsh

Princelings Revolution (this book)

The right of Jemima Pett to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite online retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

The names and characters in this story are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Many of the names are inspired by guinea pigs owned by members of the former Rodents with Attitude online forum, to whom I am eternally grateful. These may be similar to other fictional characters but no plagiarism is intended.

Contents

Dedication

Chapter 1: An Explosive Mixture

Chapter 2: George and a Dragon

Chapter 3: The Birthday Party

Chapter 4: Disaster

Chapter 5: Aftermath

Chapter 6: Solstice 2019

Chapter 7: From Masonry to Mystery

Chapter 8: Meetings of Minds

Chapter 9: Treasure hunting

Chapter 10: Brotherly love

Chapter 11: Missing Persons

Chapter 12: An Unexpected Invitation

Chapter 13: The Fall of Buckmore

Chapter 14: Riot

Chapter 15: Prince Lupin of Buckmore

Chapter 16: Conflicts of interest

Chapter 17: Trials and Elections

Chapter 18: Banishment

Chapter 19: Who needs money?

Chapter 20: A New Normality

Chapter 21: Return to Castle Marsh

Chapter 22: Full Circle

Acknowledgements

List of Characters

About the Author

Dedication

This book is dedicated to all the people I know who believe in and work towards a better life for everyone, living tolerantly alongside people, wildlife and the spaces that this single planet provides as our life-resource. To people I sort of know, like Vidya Sury, whose dedication to mindfulness and self-acceptance is an inspiration to me.

It’s also dedicated to people I don’t know, like Rutger Bregman, author of Humankind, who shows that we are programmed to co-operate and co-exist, not fight each other. And to the Dalai Lama, whose social media messages are an antidote to the rest of the worldviews presented to us.

It’s also dedicated to everyone who names their pets after characters in novels.

Chapter 1: An Explosive Mixture

In which George rocks the foundations and Fred’s load increases

King Fred of Castle Marsh surveyed the pile of messages from other kings and lords. They were all urgent, self-important, and harassed. Everyone had trouble with newcomers spreading malicious gossip, stirring the local people into argument and fractiousness. And worse.

Then the last one he’d picked up, from Alexandre Kurtz in the Rhineland. She apologised but said there was no chance of sending the replacement metal flying machine to them this side of Solstice. Fred’s stomach did a loop, distressed that this meant there was almost no chance of keeping their promise to a guy called Mariusz the following summer. Fred sank onto his elbows, head bowed, then rubbed his hands over his face, and pushed his chair back. What he needed was a break.

He came out onto the terrace at the end of the corridor from his office, and looked over the balcony. It was a fine day for December. The reeds were crackling in the marshes and a few people were out gathering them for firestuff and to patch roofs that had been damaged in the past week’s gales. A small party had gone out on a second wagon to the forest to gather what wood had fallen down. The first wagon had come back fully laden, with two stranded travellers as well as a stack of gleanings from the forest floor.

The murmuring in the room behind him comforted him. His team of cartopetrarchs, as they styled themselves, were working together well, putting together their latest observations and measurements. One of the ideas brought back from last year’s summer school was to record the differences in soils and rocks around the land, as well as the relationship of the places to each other. And they were still charting the positions of forests and mountains and rivers... Yes, I really do want to map the world, Fred thought, with a smile—then a sigh. If only he could spend all his time on it instead of having to run things as well.

BANG!

The whole castle shook.

Birds flew up, cawing raucously.

People rushed out of arched doors, pursued by a blast of thick black smoke and dust.

A few screams came from elsewhere in the castle, but they sounded more of fear than of pain, and a general hubbub of running feet on stone stairs and corridors started to echo through the building. Residents appeared at windows, leaning out and craning their necks to see what was going on.

Fred watched anxiously from the terrace balcony to see his brother George emerging, not from his usual laboratory door, but further along from the main blast area. He was dusting his head and coat down. It seemed to have turned him a fetching lilac colour instead of his customary ginger. He looked up at Fred and waved sheepishly, then signed ‘one of those things,’ as if no harm had been done. Fred watched George checking all his students had evacuated. As he seemed quite unconcerned, despite the gathering press of people in the courtyard, Fred assumed that the castle was in no immediate danger, although these days George seemed not to care whether people got into danger.

Some of his own students came out to observe the scene, but more of them stayed huddled over their maps and notes. Fred smiled and decided to leave his project in their safe hands.

Sir!

Fred turned as someone ran up behind him.

Would you mind coming down, sir? said the young person, who Fred recognised as one of George’s students.

Certainly, er ...

Joshua, sir.

Ah, yes, Joshua. From Castle Powell way aren’t you?

Yes, sir, Joshua said, turning and preceding Fred back down the stairs.

Fred let the lad run on ahead. As he walked more sedately, Fred pondered the range of people in the Castle these days. Castle Powell was close to Castle Buckmore, the most powerful castle in the Realms. But Powell was one of the places there’d been trouble with revolutionaries, and recently the rebels had ousted the king there. Three very pleasant families, including Joshua and his parents, had got out while they could and arrived at Castle Marsh in the summer. Nice people with useful skills. Castle Marsh’s reputation as a seat of learning had been one of the factors in them coming here, they had said. He’d been very pleased to hear that.

I’m afraid I’m going to have to put the whole of this side of the castle off limits, George said as soon as Fred reached the courtyard.

Fred frowned. ‘This side of the castle’ included both the Great Hall and the Small Hall, and most of the public routes to other parts of the castle, including the Registry.

Safety checks, I suppose?

He received a nod from George in response, and he walked towards the centre archway from where the smoke had emerged. Dust floated round the passageways; it caught in his throat and made him cough, then sneeze.

Yes, and plenty of time needed for the dust to settle, George said, but we also need to work out why it happened.

Okay, well ... we’ll need your report at an emergency meeting of the Quorum. How soon can you do that?

Later today.

Good. Then I’ll order the Quorum to meet at, say, 6 o’clock in the... er, which room shall we use? he finished, realising that it wasn’t going to be in the Small Hall.

Why not use Jupiter’s upstairs room then we can check everywhere out properly without you tripping over us, George said in a calming tone.

Oh, yes—hang on, why do you need to check everywhere out? Fred added suspiciously.

Just checking, brother, just checking. George put a hand on Fred’s shoulder and ushered him towards the archway leading down to the main square where Jupiter had her tavern. Go and ask her now. Or tell her. Whichever you’d like to do, but make sure that’s the room you use, he finished.

So although the structure appears to have experienced no lasting damage, George concluded, I recommend that we avoid using the Great Hall and the Small Hall for a week at least to make sure the dust has settled and no unexpected movement has occurred.

He sat down to a series of murmurs from his audience.

The Quorum was the governing body at Castle Marsh, since Fred had decided that being king would work better if he just led a series of representatives of all the skills and trades that made the castle function properly. He officially acted as arbiter in case of any disagreements that needed someone to see both sides and help them agree a solution. In general Castle Marsh residents worked in harmony and sorted themselves out according to a general principle of ‘live well together’.

George’s genius in choosing the venue was that it was too small to accommodate most of the people who generally came along to observe the Quorum’s meetings in the Small Hall, which meant that he could say some of the things that needed to be said without alarming people. Like the Castle was safe but vulnerable.

What you didn’t say though, Prince Engineer George, said Jupiter, standing up, was why the explosion happened in the first place, and she sat down again.

Er, thank you, Mistress Jupiter, George replied. It was the result of a procedure which we were testing on one of the new engines. My apprentice was adjusting something involved with the cooling experiment and put the cooling liquid flask on the floor for a trivial reason. One of the junior engineers thought it was a flask of strawberry juice that he had put on a table and was no longer there. So the cooling liquid was used in the junior’s procedure instead of the strawberry juice. He had already explained what had happened next, so he wasn’t going to say any more on the subject. Not in public at any rate.

When is the next function due in the Great Hall? Fred asked his steward Willoughby, who was sitting by his side with a large diary and several reference books.

Solstice is in three days, Green Willow Day is ten days after that. Oh, and your niece’s birthday the day after tomorrow, but we can move that.

She won’t like her birthday being moved, Fred muttered.

No, I meant we can do something more exciting for her like a treasure hunt with the tea and other games, and holding them somewhere else.

Willoughby obviously had given more thought to this than some of the other events, Fred thought. He wasn’t surprised. His eldest niece had everybody wrapped round her finger. It would be a good thing when she went home to Buckmore in the spring.

Will we be ready to use the Great Hall in three days, George? he asked.

Um, maybe. I’ll give you an update tomorrow night.

Is everybody happy with that then? Fred asked the assembled Quorum. There was a general nodding from around the table. Well, in that case—

Excuse me, Fred— Haggis was standing just inside the doorway, having not been in time to get a seat.

Yes?

It looks like we might be needing to think about yet more accommodation for families around the castle. As well as some for the young men that are now arriving.

Should we discuss this now, or can it wait? Perhaps just a few of us in my room?

Yes, sir, that would be good. Just a few of us.

Good. I’ll see you all later then.

Fred stood up to signify the meeting was over. Most of the members of the Quorum also stood, and filed out of the door, only to be tackled by a castle resident wanting to get information or give his or her opinion. Fred smiled. This did seem to be a way of keeping everybody involved in the castle. His grandfather would have turned in his grave to see all the discussion on his decisions, well, their decisions. Fred just kept things focused, he didn’t want to take all the decisions.

George was beside him as they left the tavern. As they crossed the corner of the square, Haggis joined them, and suggested they might step up to his room above the gatehouse.

Anything wrong, Haggis? Fred asked when they had settled comfortably in his room and opened a couple of bottles of ale.

Two things, really, he said. First, the case of the missing flask of strawberry juice, second, the number of fit young men that are arriving, with no apparent trade.

Fred stared at his ale and said nothing. He had thought he might be the only one to have noticed that there was a missing flask of strawberry juice, since George had rather skipped through that part. He knew that Haggis would tell him about the rest without prompting.

George also said nothing. He didn’t want to think about the missing flask of strawberry juice. It was more than just strawberry juice. And he didn’t think anyone except the three junior engineers would realise what the significance of it was. He wanted to talk to Fred about it on his own, but it looked like Haggis might have to be involved. He shifted in his chair a little.

What’s the problem with the young men? Fred asked.

As you well know, I’ve got a nose for troublemakers. These aren’t the type we’ve had before. They seem more like those nondescript ones with brown hoodies that started the granary fire eighteen months ago. Some say they left villages in the west because of the troubles and came here looking for opportunity. They have little schooling and no trade. I reckon they’re looking for opportunity, all right.

George wondered how they were going to distinguish between nondescript kids suspected of starting the fire the previous spring, and the general nondescript hopeful traveller. Fred pondered on the balance between freedom of speech and sedition, and whether this was how it had started at Castle Powell. And how soon it would be safe for his niece to return to Buckmore if Powell was really in the grip of the revolutionaries.

How can we turn these young people into good citizens, Haggis? I thought we’d got the sort of work for them that they can do. Are these so different from the earlier ones?

"When they were getting here in ones and twos, we could sort them out and apprentice them or test their skills and move them into junior roles or whatever was appropriate. Now... there’s too many, and too many of them