He’s Different From This Morning

King Matthew offers Cardinal Cargill II more Madeira. The Cardinal smacks his lips like a contented baby, savoring its sweet taste.

“A very good year,” the pudgy cleric says.

“The other day, Queen Cassia, my little bird, was saying that wine is the only item we don’t have to import,” the King replies, his smile as bright as his golden hair. “Speaking of imports... I’ve drawn up a decree that will remove the tariffs for imports coming from the City of Gold in exchange for your increasing their production by twenty percent.”

Cardinal Cargill raises his glass. “That certainly sounds reasonable.”

King Matthew joins hands with Queen Cassia, who smiles proudly.

“In addition, your eminence, Queen Cassia and I sanction your request to make Illuminati Arcadia’s religion.”

“All other forms of worship, save one, will still be allowed, and their followers protected,” Queen Cassia adds.

“Per your request, Magick will be outlawed,” King Matthew continues.

Cardinal Cargill looks at Beltane, the King’s Mage, and his assistant, Marla, smirking triumphantly.

“We will make allowances for any follower of Magick who wishes to convert.” Cardinal Cargill says. He licks his lips as his stares at Beltane’s full-bodied assistant, who tugs uncomfortably at her clothes.

“This is no direct slight on you, Beltane,” King Matthew says. “Science and logic took the place of Magick long ago. I know you’ve been considering stepping down. We’ll see to it that you enjoy your retirement.”

“And I’d like you to be my lady-in-waiting,” Queen Cassia says to Marla.

Pasting a smile across his ancient features, Beltane says, “Thank you, your majesty, and Queen Cassia. If you’ll excuse us, we need to check on the progress of several potions we’re preparing.”

Outside of earshot of the royal couple, Beltane’s anger explodes. “…We’ll make allowances for anyone who wants to convert… What a bloated hypocrite! And they want to retire me… ME! I’ve protected that brat’s family since his grandfather was a zygote!”

“Cargill managed to turn the King and Queen against us in one afternoon,” Marla notes.

“Then we can’t wait. We must act now.”

A pair of brawny security men pull King Matthew’s unconscious body out of a monstrous SUV, hurriedly carrying him into a fully equipped hospital room in the castle.

The King’s matinee idol features are marred by a trickle of blood dripping from his ear.

Queen Cassia rushes into the room, her almond-shaped brown eyes awash with tears.

“What happened?”

The white-haired, humpbacked wizard rubs his chin as if he is about to say something profound.

“He just collapsed at the dedication ceremony. We’re not sure, your majesty.”

“It might be a stroke,” Marla offers.

“Stroke? He’s thirty-four! Where’s Doctor Soderstrum?”

“At a conference in Geneva,” Beltane replies.

“Then the King should be in a hospital!”

“The nearest one is forty-five minutes away.”

“Use the helicopter!”

“It’s out of service,” Beltane replies. “Marla and I can take care of him here until a doctor arrives.”

“Leave it to us,” Marla says, her aquamarine eyes shining reassuringly as she guides the Queen toward the door.

Awakened by Miklos, her hulking security guard, Queen Cassia runs to her husband’s bedside.

An animated King Matthew is sitting up in his bed, pointing an accusing finger at Beltane, who stands bound and gagged before him.

Two guards hold back the wizard, who is trying to reach the King.

“Traitor!” King Matthew shouts.

“What’s going on here?” Queen Cassia asks. “Are you alright?”

“Perfect. In fact, I’m seeing things more clearly than ever before. Take this traitor to the tower!”

Beltane is dragged away, his shouts muffled by the gag.

King Matthew rises from his bed, his eyes bulging as he yells, “Beltane tried to murder me! He was going to take over the kingdom!”

King Matthew’s anger, expressions, and even the tone of his voice seem foreign to her.

“Try to calm down, your majesty,” Marla says.

Miklos steps between Marla and the King, bellowing, “If your master tried to kill the King, what’s to stop you from trying?”

“Leave her alone, Miklos,” King Matthew insists. “It was Marla who told me about Beltane’s plot. And for your loyalty Marla, I appoint you Mage to the King of Arcadia. You made it possible for me to be with my wife again.”

King Matthew reaches out for Queen Cassia, pulling her into his arms. She notices his touch, his smell, is different from before.

Cardinal Cargill enters the throne room, his white robe trailing him like a sail caught in the wind, saying, “I was preparing to leave.”

“We still have much to discuss, Cardinal. I’ve given our agreement a second thought. It gives the City of Gold too many unearned advantages. I’ve come up with a better plan. You can either agree, or I’ll put your head on a pike outside your precious Illuminati cathedral. I’m keeping the tariffs on all the goods you import here.”

“But your majesty, we agreed…”

“You’ve benefited for centuries from the gold and silver you mine. You take sixty percent to build your churches, extravagant homes, and for your Madeira and your women, giving Arcadia only forty percent. Your thievery is over. From now on, the City of Gold will send Arcadia seventy percent of the profits you make from mining gold and diamonds.”

Stunned, Queen Cassia turns to King Matthew. “You can’t pivot like this! We gave our word! The City of Gold is a refuge, a holy city for thousands of our most spiritual citizens.”

“Speaking of that, I have decided that Illuminati is a false faith. Despite Beltane’s attempt on my life, Magick will remain Arcadia’s primary form of worship. Illuminati and all the other so-called religions are hereby outlawed, which means you are powerless, Cardinal Cargill.”

“The citizens of the City of Gold will never bend to your savage rules.”

“You have as long as it takes for Admiral Rosseau’s battleships to reach the Straights of Gold to decide. If you refuse, they’ll turn your city to gold dust. In the meantime, would you like some Madeira?”

Marla brings a bottle of wine to the King. Uncorking the bottle, she pours a glass for Cardinal Cargill.

The Cardinal’s hand shakes so much he can barely put the glass to his lips. “I don’t understand, your majesty. Earlier today you readily agreed to the laws I proposed. You have always been so kind to the people of the City of Gold.”

“He was suddenly taken ill after our earlier meeting,” Queen Cassia says. “Perhaps it’s affected his judgment. Maybe we should think things over instead of acting hastily.”

“Nonsense. We need to build the treasury up for our future family.”

Cardinal Cargill coughs roughly.

King Matthew pats Queen Cassia’s hand. His clammy touch makes her pull away from him.

Cardinal Cargill coughs harder, spraying the front of his white robe with blood.

“…You…You have poisoned me…”

As Cardinal Cargill collapses, King Matthew signals for two of his guards to take his body away.

“Why?” Queen Cassia asks.

“I don’t need him.”

Queen Cassia looks at him as if he was a stranger. “Excuse me, husband, but I’ve developed a headache. I should go lie down.”

“But you’ll miss all the fun!”

Miklos takes the Queen’s arm, steadying her.

“I’ll be in to see you later,” King Matthew twitters. “I’d like to show you how much I love you.”

Queen Cassia freezes. “We agreed that we wouldn’t be intimate again for six months.”

King Matthew laughs hysterically. “Why would I agree to that?”

“Because I’m pregnant. It’s for the sake of the twins.”

King Matthew blanches. “…Yes, of course…”

King Matthew’s anger churns as Miklos escorts Queen Cassia to her chambers.

Marla gives King Matthew a sly look. “So, this wasn’t just about getting rich, was it? You wanted his woman too."

"She’s my wife now.”

“She’s still his wife. And now she’s going to have heirs.”

King Matthew rushes down the hallway to the communications center with Marla at his heels. Entering the room, they gaze at a wall of TV screens.

“Bring up Rosseau,” King Matthew says to the guard on duty.

Admiral Drayton Rosseau’s stern visage appears on the center screen. The twenty-five-year navy veteran’s steely eyes stare intently at the screen, his dimpled jaw locked in determination.

“How far are you from the City of Gold, Admiral?”

“One hour.”

“How many battleships are under your command?”

“Four. The Resolution, Revenge, Ramillies, and my flagship, the Repulse.”

“Good. You’ll commence firing on the City of Gold when you’re in range.”

The color drains from Admiral Rosseau’s dark features.

“Did you hear me, Rosseau?”

“I did, your majesty. I can’t obey your order.”

“Can’t, or won’t?”

“Either way, I won’t fire on our holy city.”

“Rosseau is a devout Illuminati,” Marla whispers to King Matthew.

“Your refusal is an act of insubordination, Rosseau. You’re relieved of your command. Captain Ottinger…”

The stringy Captain steps into view, saluting.

“You’re now in command of the task force.”

“…But your grace…”

“Would you like to be an Admiral or a corpse?”

Marla enters Queen Cassia’s chambers, bowing.

Queen Cassia wipes the tears from her eyes. “I don’t understand why he changed his mind.”

“The coma must have affected his mind,” Miklos offers.

Queen Cassia turns to Marla. “You’ve noticed how different he is, how cruel he’s become, haven’t you?”

“That’s why I’m here, your majesty. I can show you why he’s changed. Please follow me.”

Miklos steps between Marla and Queen Cassia.

“You really like getting in the way, don’t you, musclehead?” Marla asks.

“It’s a trick, your majesty. She intends to carry out Beltane’s plan to overthrow you.”

“No, I intend to reveal it.”

Miklos follows the Queen’s order to distract the guards while she and Marla sneak up the back stairs to the rooms in the tower.

Marla opens the room where Beltane is being held captive. Sitting on the bed, the wizard gives Queen Cassia a watery, defeated look.

“…My little bird…”

Queen Cassia gasps. “Matthew?”

Dropping to her knees in front of the bed, she embraces the frail old man.

“How did this happen?” she asks Marla.

“Beltane cast a spell on the King, putting him in a coma. While the King was unconscious, Beltane switched bodies with him."

"Can you break the spell?” Queen Cassia asks.

“Beltane was an excellent teacher, but school’s out.”

Beltane checks his watch, noticing there are age spots on the back of his hand.

Beltane rushes to the mirror. He still has the King’s face, but it’s now ruddy, blotchy and sagging. His once abundant blonde hair is now snow white.

Marla enters the room.

“Your spell is losing steam.”

“I can see that. I thought the change was permanent. How do I renew the spell?”

“Sorry, I only got to chapter twelve in the sorcerer’s handbook,” Marla retorts.

“Then we must act now. I won’t mind being an old, rich King.”

Extreme doubt and confusion cross Ottinger’s features as he peers at the screen.

“I’ve shaken hands with the King,” Ottinger says. “You sir, are not the King.”

“You’ll obey my order, Ottinger, or I’ll have you shot out of one of your own guns.”

Ottinger smirks. “I answer to the King, stranger.”

Turning to Marla, Beltane says, “There’s only one option left. I can still be King if the royal family is out of the way. Bring them to the throne room.”

“What do you plan to do?”

“Enjoy killing them.”

Marla enters the throne room.

“I see you’re alone, Marla. Where are they?”

“They escaped.”

“…Miklos…”

“He led the escape. They’re probably on their way to the City of Gold where they can raise an army and join up with Admiral Rosseau.”

“Well, I suppose there’s nothing left to do but drink.”

Sighing, Beltane reaches for a bottle of Madeira. Marla slips several drops of poison into his glass. Uncorking the bottle, Beltane pours his last drink.