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Rated: 13+ · Other · Fantasy · #1763469
The exiled knight Randalin is summoned to thwart a renewed plot by assassins.
“Seldor,” Laurinda’s voice exploded, “So long as the responsibilities of the throne are mine to bear, you will listen and you will comply. You know full well that the Brotherhood gains and holds its power at the expense of our people. They thrive in open defiance of everything my father’s throne represented.”

“Of course your Highness, this is true, but given recent events we must think of your safety.” Seldor pled.

“I will not be intimidated by a band of magicians, nor the assassins they own. I will not recall the investigators and I am not about to start hiding in my own kingdom!”

“But surely, your Highness realizses,” Seldor shouted. Words would have no weight, but it is his duty to be the voice of what passes for reason in these untamed days, “We have our very finest guards assigned to your protection, and still your chambers were not safe. It is madness to remain where they can obviously…”

Seldor’s voice vanished into the rumbling of the audience chamber door flying open.

Laurinda’s eyes turned in an ice cold stare to focus on the doorway as she held her breath.

Four figures moved into the chamber, three men, and a woman. The woman wore a mixture of leather over and under her robes, ornate patterns woven in the robes fabric, delicate filigree embroidered in both leather and cloth in perfect, almost impossibly matching intricacy.

An uncharacteristically noticeable sigh of relief crossed her lips, the coldness of her gaze softening, as if the years of trial since her father’s death melted away.

“Your cousin had me seized and sent here to you. While I bear him no ill will for obeying his orders. What is so serious that you would summon, by force, an exile into your presence?”

Lauinda’s gaze tightened, the burden rolling back into her heart. “A grave matter indeed. Three nights ago someone or something entered my chambers while I slept, without alerting a single guard. When my maid awakened me, we found these.”

Laurinda motioned toward Seldor, who quickly fetched the note from the table and carried it to the man who had spoken so familiarly and with not even feigned courtesy to the princess.

“I will not be bullied into pulling back my investigators. The Brotherhood of Alagar must answer for their crimes.” Laurinda snapped. “You swore an oath to your teacher, and to my father Grelynd that you would protect me. I have summoned you to honor that oath.”

“You would call upon an exile to serve as your personal guard? I fear these matters would be better suited to someone whose loyalty is unquestioned.” He replied coldly.
The Princess hesitated. “Randalin, The Crown has never called you exile. That was your choice, not ours. You have always endeavored to serve us. In your years of exile, you have never betrayed our code, our law, nor our trust. Even while you consider yourself exile, you side with my cousin’s army in the frontier against the monstrosities. You risk your life for next to no reward. We both know this is where your allegiance remains.”

Randalin unrolled the parchment before him, around the hole where the blade had been, the parchment is already rotted beyond enduring another rolling.

         Child,
         You are warned. We will not be merciful next
         time. Withdraw or the consequences will be more
         dear to your kingdom than you imagine


“You understand, Randalin, I would not have summoned you if there was another way. I know you do not wish to be here.” Laurinda’s voice wavered, “But in this case, there are none other that can do what must be done.”

“And as an unaligned exile, I can not be linked easily back to the court,” Randalin’s gaze turned to meet the scowl of the princess’ aide, Seldor, “True?”

“That isn’t what this is about, and you know it!” Laurinda croaked as the words hung in her throat.

“Is there anything more you have to offer information wise before we depart? The longer we wait, the more likely someone will be alerted to this audience, Princess.”

There it was. In how he addressed her. The stiff, forced title.

“Though I rule this land, knight. You have been among my people. You and your companions, whom I trust because they have your trust, have far more intricate resources for information than I have about where one might look for assassins and magicians.” Laurinda sighed, closing her eyes.

Randalin bowed, as his companions backed out of the chamber.

It was late at night. Absolutely silent. Not a breeze to rustle leaves,the hot summer air making rest difficult. Just 13 years old, she had chosen the lightest weight cloth she could find for bed tonight. The door securely bolted, the window shutters open in the desperate hope of a breeze that would not come.

Slumber finally came. The peaceful dark embrace of sleep.

Her eyes opened as a man stood over her, sprinkling a powder across her face.

She started to open her mouth to scream, when her mouth stopped, her voice would not cry out. She swung her arms at him and her arms fell limp and lifeless as the powder continued to be sprinkled across her form.

Someone was trying the door, trying to get in, but she’d bolted it. Her protectors were out there, and could not reach her.

She struggled again to scream, but not a sound crossed her lips.

The massive oaken door broke away from the bolt, and someone rushed into the dark room. Who was it? Who was this brave soul who forced his way into the Princess locked chamber to save her, when no one could know she was in danger?

A large figure moved in complete silence behind the man as he finished applying his dust to the young princess.

The newcomer stepped forward, wielding a sword obviously much to large for him, and let loose a shout as he moved to attack.

The large figure with a single swipe sent the would be rescuer to the floor. The night went completely black.


“Princess,” Seldor’s voice filtered slowly into her mind, “What is it?”

“Old memories,” she frowned, “nothing but old memories.”
© Copyright 2011 Scott Luinstra (randalin at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1763469-Changing-Tides-Ch-1-The-Call-To-Serve