Ash had never been inside the palace before. The grounds comprised several one- and two-storey buildings of modest appearance in a well-kept garden. Inside, the furnishings were clean and attractive, but lacked the extravagance one would customarily associate with royalty.
Ash was brought down a hallway to beautifully carved double wooden doors featuring local flora and fauna. It was flanked by two guards armed with swords. The guards opened the doors for Ash and two officials who accompanied him. They brought him before a wooden throne on which sat the white-haired king, dressed in a red and white robe.
Ash wanted to examine his surroundings, but was promptly urged by one of the officials, "Bow before the king and kneel on one knee."
Ash obeyed.
"Rise," spoke the king. "Let me see your face."
Ash stood up and took the opportunity to also examine the king's face. It was not as creased as he had imagined. The man had aged handsomely. Close like this, the king emanated an aura of benevolence, wisdom and authority all at once.
King Samuel examined Ash from head to foot, a faint smile on his face.
"You are Ash."
"Yes, your highness."
"Welcome. I have made enquiries about you. You are a promising fighter, a solid worker, honest and dependable, and you have started to show leadership among your juniors.
Ash did not know what to say. To be praised by the king was an honour he had not expected.
"Respond to the king," urged one of the officials, prodding him in the back.
"Thank you, your highness. I hope I don't disappoint you."
"You are but human," said the king. "You have the potential to please me and to disappoint me. The choice is yours."
"Yes, your highness," Ash said quickly, not waiting for another prod.
"It has come to the town's attention that Princess Misty has been imprisoned. It may not be so obvious that she was arrested for attempting to free her people from oppression by her father."
"I was saddened to hear the news, your highness."
The king went on. "The king of Pewter and I have been communicating. We have agreed to try to rescue her."
Ash's eyes opened wide.
"King Flint will send two of his sons. I have also agreed to send two men. Together their task will be to rescue the princess and bring her here, as far from Cerulean as possible. Now Ash, in the light of your abilities, I am considering sending you."
"Your highness!"
"You have a choice in the matter, and there are considerations to discuss first. There will be dangers. She will be protected by armed guards. Should you be caught, you will have some protection as foreign citizens, but there are no guarantees."
"I understand, your highness."
"However, if you are successful, there will be a reward. At least a field of your own, perhaps more. I must also ask you some personal questions."
The king glanced at the two officials. They left the room, closing the doors behind them.
"Ash," the king said softly, "there is a possibility of a greater reward, for both you and for your mother."
"My mother?"
"It is only a possiblity, and I cannot disclose its nature. I mention it only as an incentive for you to undertake the mission."
"Yes, your highness."
"Ash, I must ask you, do you have any feelings for this princess?"
Ash stared. Why would the king ask something so personal and seemingly irrelevant?
"She is very beautiful," continued the king, "and it's said many desire her."
Ash looked down. He felt a warmth in his face.
"It is not a shame for a man to like a woman," said the king. "What may be shameful is what the man does about it. Are you aware of our laws?"
Ash knew what he meant. He looked up and nodded. "Yes, your highness."
"Will you give me your word that no matter what feelings you have for Misty or perchance Misty might develop for you, you will keep the moral code? I cannot stress the importance of this too highly."
What was the likelihood a princess would desire a peasant anyway, thought Ash. "I solemnly swear, your highness."
"I will trust you, Ash. Now—the other person I plan to send on this mission is my grandson."
Ash's eyes opened wide again. What on earth was he going to do? He and Gary on a mission together? Gary wanted his blood!
"Ah, yes," said King Samuel, "I heard about you and Gary. You shall see what I have in mind."
"Your highness, Gary will not hesitate to use his sword."
"Ash, it is your turn to trust me."
"I will try, your highness."
"Now—I suspect that both Prince Gary and Prince Timmy of Pewter have interest in the princess. Your job will be to protect her from all harm, including seduction. I doubt Timmy will be a problem, but Gary..."
"I will do my best, your highness."
The king reached to his left and pulled a cord hanging from the ceiling. Somewhere, a bell rang. The doors opened.
"Let the prince enter," commanded the king.
Ash turned. Prince Gary walked in nonchalantly, until he recognized Ash. Gary did not hesitate to speak.
"O King, why is this abominable peasant in your royal chamber?"
"Do not speak ill of loyal subjects, O Prince," replied the king.
"Why is he here?" demanded Gary.
"He will accompany you to Cerulean."
"What!? I am to undertake a rescue mission tagged by an insolent bastard?"
Ash's body language instantly betrayed his anger. He clenched and raised his fists. His eyes glared.
"Oh yes, I've been finding out about you," taunted Gary.
"Take it back!" yelled Ash.
"Silence," boomed the king, sending a chill down Ash's spine. "How dare either of you shout in the presence of your king. I have chosen the two of you as the most suitable men for the mission. Gary is a good swordfighter; Ash excels at unarmed combat. Gary has shrewdness; Ash has dependability. Gary knows the way of royalty; Ash knows the way of effort. You are opposites, yet you complement each other. Now, for the sake of the princess, I command you both to put aside your personal differences and work together. Shake hands!"
Ash and Gary could see each other seething. Yet the king issed a command. Ash stretched out his hand first. Gary's mouth quivered. He grabbed Ash's hand and let it go as if it were a filthy rag.
"There is more. I have appointed Ash as Misty's bodyguard. I am also appointing him as my representative on this mission. Gary being a prince, that will provide royal protection to both of you if you are caught. Gary, it also means that if I even suspect you of raising a finger against Ash, you will be charged with treason. Is that understood?".
Ash breathed a sigh of relief, while Gary could barely control his rage.
"King Flint," continued the king, "requests that Prince Brock, the oldest among the four of you, lead the expedition. I have agreed, but added that the second in command should be from Pallet. I have decided that Ash the commoner take this responsibility."
Gary finally lost control.
"What in the name of Pallet is going on here? Who is this peasant boy? I'm your grandson, the heir to the throne. Does this mean nothing to you?"
The king controlled his temper. "How do you adress me, O Prince?"
"Treat me like a prince, and I'll treat you as a king!"
By this time, the guards had entered the chamber.
"You will be treated as a prince," said the king, "when you act as a prince. So far you have behaved as a spoilt brat. Guards, arrest him."
The guards took a step forward. Gary stepped back, drawing his sword. Th guards were unsure how to proceed.
While Gary's attention was focused on the guards, Ash swung a roundhouse kick, striking Gary's right arm. He yelped in pain as the sword clattered on the floor. The guards reached forward and grabbed him, each taking an arm. Gary did not bother to struggle.
"Will you fulfill your responsibility?" said the king.
Gary's face fell. "Yes, O King."
"Let him pick up his sword."
The guards let him go. Gary replaced the sword in its sheath.
"Ash, thank you," said the king, a smirk on his face.
Gary, now completely humiliated, remained silent, his head bowed, but his fists clenched.
"Ash," said the king, "have you understood your mission and do you agree to undertake it?"
"Yes, your highness."
"O Prince, have you understood your mission, and will you take ordes from Prince Brock, and in his absence from Ash the commoner?"
"Yes... O King."
"You leave tomorrow morning for Pewter City. Depart from here at 6 o'clock. Rest and eat well the rest of today. You are dismissed."
