Mercenary War - Book 2

Chapter 2

         They arrived at the city gates and passed through. Fallon had been here more times than he could count. However, this time was different. His wife had been held hostage here. He wanted to burn the entire city to the ground. He wanted to slit the throat of every priest who ever thought of laying their hands on her.
         They dismounted and walked through the marketplace. It was enormous. After the market, the slave trade auction was in full swing. The men restocked their supplies and passed by the auction beside the temple, in front of the arena. The men kept their hoods up and tried to ignore it. Dorsha was one of Harta's main supporters behind the scenes. Fallon knew exactly who to go to in order to find information on what was happening in the fortress. They left the auction behind and put their horses at the stable.
         The king gathered his men in the stable while they were separated from the public. "I am sorry for the things you will be required to do from here on out. I cannot guarantee you will be the same when you return home. Show no mercy and no sign of possible weakness. Be a stone or a target. Those are the only two options once we step outside this stable. If you think you cannot stomach watching what mercenaries do, please return home now." His guards look around at each other before putting their fists over their hearts to show their dedication and loyalty to their leader. "Then let's head out. And stay out of sight unless I give the signal."
         They exited the stables and dispersed, the guards melding with the crowd, the elf and half-breed hiding in plain sight. Fallon walked around the edge of the arena to the back, where the preparation rooms were located. Fallon walked under the archway leading to the rooms.
         A temple guard stopped him. "Halt! No one is allowed back here. Please return to the street or I will have no choice but to take you to the dungeon."
         Fallon looked around before throwing back his hood. "Bring me to Weknon. The less questions you ask the better. Actually, don't say anything at all. I'd rather not rip your tongue out to keep my presence here unknown."
         The guard's face paled as he looked around anxiously. He knew this man. "He… he is inside. This way." He spun and led Fallon through the low corridors, passing quite a few rooms on the way. The man stopped at a door and rapped three times in rapid succession. Fallon remembered that well. "Sir. S… someone is here to meet with you."
         A voice inside sounded frustrated and out of breath. "I have… no time for business." A female’s grunt sounded from the other side of the door. It was obvious what was happening inside. They were on temple grounds after all.
         Fallon’s eyes darkened in anger. "Leave now." The guard saw the building rage and ran back the way he had come. Lifting an iron rimmed boot, he kicked through the door, ripping it from its hinges, the wood splintering where the bolts had secured it to the wall. "No time for business, eh, Weknon?"
         The priest had a young woman by her hair, the marks from his large fingers visible on her face and neck where bruises were forming. Her tear stained cheeks were red and swollen from his slaps. She was only partially clothed. Her temple dress was pulled mostly open in front and the slit up the side was twisted to make enjoyment easier for the priest. There were blood stains below her, whether from her or a different sacrifice was impossible to figure out in the dim light. The priest looked up, enraged until he saw the face glaring back at him. His eyes instantly filled with a sickening dread. He already knew why this man was here. He threw the woman to the floor and told her to get out. She pulled herself painfully to her feet and held onto the wall as she stumbled, terrified, past the man in black, pulling her dress as tightly closed as possible. "F… Fa… Fallon. What… what can I do for you?"
         Fallon had a hand around the priest's throat in a moment, lifting him up against the wall. The other man clawed at his hand, gasping for breath. "Tell me who is leading Harta and who his second in command is. The more information you give me concerning the state of the mercenaries and their fortress, the less painful your death will be."
         "Ano… Anohean is their commander now. Giatro is… is his se… second in command." Gone was his confidence. The corrupt priest had survived with the mercenaries by giving them information and being willing to turn against anyone for the sake of his safety. He was a snake and it was time he lost his head. "They have been recruiting elves. They have been loo… looking for you. They are coming for your queen."
         Fallon gritted his teeth as he seethed with rage. "How many are in the fortress Weknon."
         "I don't… I don't know." Fallon pressed his sword against the man's legs, slowly cutting further and further into his flesh. The priest screamed in pain. "At least five… five hundred now! They have more than fifty elves!"
         "Are they coming here soon?" The mercenary was becoming impatient, pushing his blade through more flesh.
         Weknon cried out in agony. "They will be here tomorrow! Please stop! There will be five or… or six of them coming to drop off payment for the elves we sold them!"
         "Good job," Fallon said darkly as he dropped the priest to the floor. The man crumpled like a doll, screaming from his injury. The mercenary lifted his sword and severed the priest's head from his body before wiping his blade on the white robe, sheathing his sword and leaving the room, the door wide open.
         He exited the hallways and made his way to the stables. His guards caught up to him, all of them suddenly uncomfortable and one of them as pale as could be. "You heard him. We will lay an ambush away from the city. Expect there to be elves in the group. We go to meet them on foot."
         Silently the guards followed him, giving each other uncomfortable looks. Fallon nodded for them to follow and they made their way through the crowded streets and out the southern gate of the city. When they were far enough away to not draw attention, they stopped for the rest of the day.
         "We will not set a campfire tonight," their leader stated when they found their resting place. "The last thing we need is to alert them ahead of time that we are here."          His men shuffled awkwardly where they stood. Fallon could almost read their thoughts. If they were going to make it through this with him, they had to keep from being uncomfortable around him each time something happened. "I assume no one is going to speak first then?"
         Ventris stepped forward and sat down gesturing for the others to do the same. They hesitantly followed suit. "Your ma… uh… I mean sir, was it necessary to behead him or to nearly cut off his leg?" The look he received from his superior nearly chilled his blood.
         "Perhaps you are correct. Will you all abandon me if that is the way our enemies are handled on this assignment? Because that was tame compared to what you will probably see, especially if one of you ends up killed. Learn to stomach things like that and worse. Consider it preparation for what comes next. Any other questions?"
         "Was this what you were like when the queen met you?" Another one of the men asked.
         Fallon’s eyes melded orange and red as his anger flared. "No. I was much worse. Appreciate what you saw today as you will probably see exactly what I was like later." One of the men in the group had seen Fallon before Calya met him. He gulped down the sawdust lump in his throat and looked around to see if anyone else was uncomfortable with that statement. Few people had seen the mercenary and lived. He was one of them.
         "Dane, you look uncomfortable. Tell me your thoughts." The mercenary said.
         "Sir, I saw you before. I saw what you did. I wanted revenge on the mercenaries, but I was unprepared for…" His voice faded out as he lost the courage to continue.
         "You were unprepared to see what I would do while getting revenge. You are free to go and return home in the morning. I will not look down on you, nor will you lose your status or position as the royal family's guard." His eyes pierced through the guard's stare.
         He swallowed hard. "I will follow you, my lord. Even to the grave."
         "Then go to sleep, all of you. We rise before dawn. I'll stay up. Remember our strategy. It will have to become more complicated in its execution each time. So never lose focus." Fallon watched as they all laid down. He was staying up so that his dreams would not come back. He could not pretend that his adrenaline did not start pumping when he felt his blade break through the flesh of that priest, or that beheading him did not give a deep sense of satisfaction. The fact that he felt this way made him uncomfortable. I am sorry, my queen. I may not be able to return to you after all. But I will succeed no matter what. I will pave the way for your rule to be as peaceful as possible no matter what the cost.
         The next morning, Fallon woke up his men and they dispersed. Fallon climbed into a tree and waited above the path. He looked about twenty feet ahead to another tree, waiting. There it was. The reflected light. Twice. They were all on horseback. Let the fun begin. Patiently, the mercenary waited while the group rode under him. He watched carefully, waiting just a minute longer. They were moving slowly which made the plan much more simple to enact. Almost silently, he dropped down to the grass. As he stood, the horses reared and squealed, arrows in their throats and chests. The beasts fell to the ground, writhing and screaming, their eyes wild and afraid before they finally died. The mercenaries fell to the ground, scrambling to their feet and looking around on high alert, their weapons drawn. They saw a lone, black cloaked figure standing in the road behind them.
         Fallon recognized one of the men as the one whose nose he broke for staring at his wife when she was a captive. His face had not quite healed correctly. He smiled darkly. He was going to enjoy this more than he thought. Closing his eyes for a moment, he took a deep breath. There were no elves among them. This would be easy. Six of them would be a challenge, but only because he would have to focus more than usual. The one leading them must be the strongest. It was a man he did not recognize. I'll take him first.
         Fallon pulled back his hood to reveal his face. "How does it feel to be the hunted instead of the hunter?" He unsheathed his broadsword and spun it around in his hand. The man who had been confronted by Fallon before was enraged. He obviously was still bitter about being dropped in one hit years ago.
         "You disgusting piece of filth," he said, pulling out his two blades. Ah yes, he fought with two blades back then. He was always an easy fight to win.
         "Sir, let me have him," Ventis interjected confidently. He appeared beside Fallon and looked as if he was struggling to hold himself back. Ventris was short for an elf, standing only five feet nine inches. If you did not look closely, you'd never even know he was an elf.
         The mercenary laughed at the short man before him. "Oh yes, Fallon, please serve him to me on a silver platter." The man spun his two blades around in an arc to intimidate the other. "Tell me, Fallon, how is that whore of yours? Did she satisfy you or did you come back to beg for your position to be returned to you?"
         Ventris clenched his jaw and his knuckles turned white as he balled his hands into fists. He knew of who the man spoke and he despised his queen being referred to in such a way.
         Fallon, however, looked unperturbed by the words except for his eyes that changed from orange to red and back again as he fought to control his rage. The former mercenary smiled darkly and stepped back. "Of course, Ventris. How could I possibly forget how much of a waste of time Azron is for me?"
         His mocking expression angered the other mercenary. The group had just stood there, uncertain as to how to handle the sudden reappearance of Fallon. At his comment, though, they started laughing all together and shouting insults. Even still, Ventris stood silently, looking from Fallon to the group of mercenaries. A subtle nod was all the encouragement he needed.
         Whispering in elvish, Ventris vanished from their sight. Fallon just stood staring them down, knowing exactly where he was. Astonished, the mercenaries all began to panic. Azron forced a fearful smile. Then, in an instant, he let out a scream of agony and blood poured from his shoulders and back and he was thrown forward into the dirt, silent and dead.
         In the sudden chaos, another man went down before the young elf reappeared in a tree, wiping off his claws. Yet it was too late, Fallon had beheaded one man and cut the legs off another. Two were left standing. He dropped his blade into the head of the injured man and spun to see one of the others drop from Ventris. The only one left was the leader. He had been the only one to not let down his guard. The young man had indeed shocked him as well. But he had realized the man was an elf a moment before he hid himself. Who was this mercenary king who commanded even elves? He had heard the stories of the black demon, but this was not in any of them.
         Fallon intentionally left the leader alive until the end after Azron made a fool of himself, giving a silent signal to his men to leave him untouched if possible. This was going to be an interrogation.
         "Fallon," the mercenary greeted coldly, but with a hint of respect. He inclined his head slightly and unsheathed his own broadsword.          "You, of course, know who I am, but I do not recognize you," the king said evenly.
         "You can think of me as a type of dignitary, Black Demon. My name is Bron." His tone held warning for the man in black, which Fallon obviously ignored.
         "Good to know. I'll be able to tell them which new recruit I disposed of."
         Ventris stepped up. "Sir…"
         "No, Ventris. I'll handle him. Don't worry." Fallon spun his broadsword around in his right hand, beginning to circle. The smell of blood from the carnage caused him to taste metal. He smiled mercilessly as he held the other's stare.
         Bron glared at the black demon before him and held his own two-handed broadsword. So it is true. He does use a broadsword with one hand.
         Suddenly, he threw his sword up defensively as Fallon appeared nearly on top of him. Fallon kicked the man in the ribs. With his elven blood and iron lined boots, he cracked multiple of his opponent's ribs at once. A grunt of pain exited the other man's throat. He was launched backwards, spitting up blood as he hit the ground hard. Bron painfully raised himself to his feet, grimacing from the broken ribs. He held his sword in position and waited for Fallon to come at him again.
         Fallon could tell just by looking at him that he had probably punctured a lung and Bron probably did not have very long. He decided to play with him until he gained some information. The king casually strode up to him, knocked his sword out of the way and kicked the man's knees. Another crunch sounded from one leg and blood began soaking through his pants. The mercenary cried out this time, dropping to the ground again.
         "I will ask you these questions once. I will continue snapping you into pieces if you choose not to respond," came Fallon's low, deadly tone.
         "How?" Bron asked in a now raspy voice.
         The king ignored his question. "How many elves have been recruited and trained?"
         The other man swallowed a mouthful of blood, coughed and gagged. "At least one hundred. We… we were supposed… supposed to pick up seven more elves today."

          Cursing aloud, Fallon ran a hand through his shaggy hair. "Are you the only group that travels to collect elves?"

         The crippled man's voice was barely audible now. "They will kill you. They will slowly torture you and your men. Then they will take your wench and have their way with her while you watch. And after you watch them entertain themselves with your child, then they will kill you slowly." He tried to laugh, but only choked on his own blood.
         Angrily, Fallon broke an arm with his boot. Hearing a raspy, almost whispered cry of pain, he smiled. "You asked how I could do this to you so easily." He snorted in mockery. "I'm a half-breed, you sick bastard." Fallon then quickly carved the mercenary brand on the dying man's chest with his sword. Looking at it for a moment he added two horns to the sides and then sliced through two major arteries before signaling to his men to clean up the scene.
         No one dared hesitate or question him. They knew what was expected of them. However, one of the men went and vomited behind a bush before dragging Bron's body out of the road. This guard was one of the youngest. He was twenty-one years old, built like a stone wall. Although bearded and extremely intimidating, he was soft hearted and usually quite gentle. He was half elven as well, though no one outside of the king and his closest relationships were aware. Fallon had been hesitant in agreeing to train him as part of his personal guard. But the young man had already been pushing himself in aggressive physical training to be part of it without even knowing about the need for a guard made up of mercenary hunters. He had been close friends with Ventris who had been chosen for it and the elf had let the secret slip. He had always idolized Fallon which made the king uncomfortable. His history was no secret and he felt that Kole had too positive a view of him.
         "Kole." The young man turned at the sound of his king's call. "Go clean up. This is your last chance to go back home. If you continue and survive long enough to return, you will never be the same. Once we leave here, you cannot return until you die or Harta falls." As cold as Fallon was and as enraged as he had been, Kole was the one recruit he had almost regretted enlisting. But the man had been persistent, coming before the king's throne every day and offering gifts of large game he had caught, some of it still alive in order to show his level of skill. But ultimately Ventris had been the one to convince him to accept the man. He bragged on the other's strength and skill as well as his elven abilities. Although Fallon had not seen the elven magic demonstrated, he trusted the elf. He was different in that, while it took a lot to win his commitment, he was fiercely loyal. His lord knew that if he pushed for Kole to join their ranks then Fallon should not ignore him. It had been a hard, yet beneficial decision.
         Kole, despite being only twenty-one, had been a force to be reckoned with even at nineteen, when Calya had regained her throne. Fallon was a big man almost six-and-a-half feet tall and weighed down with toned, hard muscle; a nearly immovable force. Kole, standing six inches shorter, could lift him as if he weighed nothing and throw him with ease. Ventris had described him as being as strong as a full blooded elf and more loyal than anyone he had ever met.
         "Sir," Kole said gruffly through gritted teeth. "I have spent every day for nearly two years training to be by your side. If you can do this, so can I." The young man had guts, that was for sure. His voice was rough and gritty, making him sound even more intimidating than Fallon. The mercenary's voice was not necessarily calming and sweet, but it was smooth and rich, charming even, when necessary. In contrast, Kole's voice was like that of a sailor who's drunk too much liquor and smoked too much of everything. That, mixed with his beard and build, made him look like a dangerous man. However, he was the antithesis. Nothing about him was angry, violent, or unnerving. He had a kind smile and an even kinder personality.
         Kole finished lugging Bron’s moaning form into the bushes away from the road and returned, his tunic and breeches streaked with crimson, his expression disturbed. Joining the others, he looked around at their faces. Only three of them had joined the fight, but the other five had watched in an uneasy silence as their lord broke someone and carved a demon-horned mercenary brand into a man’s chest.
         Dane hadn’t fought this time, but looked around at the bodies being drug away. Suddenly Fallon was beside him. “Go get your horse and pay a servant to bring the rest of our horses out to us. We will wait off the road by the small pond a little east of here.” Dane nodded and swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. What had he gotten himself into?
         The man made his way back into the town and realized that the gates had just been opened. He hadn’t taken account of how early in the day they had attacked the group of mercenaries. They were probably able to bribe the guards and get in before there were many people to see them. That would make sense as to why there was no one on the road passing them one way or the other. He met up with a stable hand and arranged for the rest of the horses to be delivered to the small pond east of the southern gate. Taking one final look around, the guard swung himself into the saddle and trotted out through the gate and east to their camping location.
         The group came into view as Dane approached, the campfire burning brightly, providing a way for them to cook whatever food they had with them. Kole had an elven leather pot over the flame with stew in it. Apparently he was an expert hunter and had successfully caught, skinned and cooked four rabbits with Ventris’ assistance. There was rabbit meat and potatoes in the pot with slices of bread covered in melting cheese on some flat stones around the fire. Dane had never seen a leather pot before. He dismounted and peered into the stew.
         “So this is the elven travel pot, eh?” he said, an eyebrow raised and his mouth beginning to water.
         Ventris smiled proudly. “Of course. I would never travel without it. It’s made of thick boar’s hide that is coated with an oil from plants that only grow in Barkit that prevents the leather from scorching or weakening with the extreme heat of a campfire. And with the oil coated on the inside of the skin, it makes it easy to simply fill with water and empty before packing it away.”
         A moment later, Kole began scooping out the stew into small, thin, wooden bowls for them to eat from, handing out wooden spoons. These utensils and plates were also elvenware, made specifically for taking up as little space in a bag or satchel as possible while still being practical. He then picked up the bread with a fork and gave everyone a slice. Dane sat across from Fallon, keeping his distance. The king noticed the man’s discomfort immediately and observed him for a moment before taking another bite. The mercenary’s eyes bore into his as if he could read the guard’s very thoughts. Dane dropped his eyes to his food uncomfortably and cleared his throat, feeling awkward.
         “Dane. Look at me.” Fallon’s voice boomed even without being loud. It was commanding and authoritative like the king he was.
         Hesitantly he looked up and met the other man’s eyes. There was no anger there or frustration, just a depth of seemingly emotionless space; a dangerous, intimidating emotionless void. “Yes, sir?”          “Speak. Why do you avoid me when every other man here is relaxed?” Reaching out his hand, the king handed him a second piece of bread with melted cheese.
         Leaning forward, Dane took it, nodded in thanks and cleared his throat again. “I… I cannot say.”
         Although Fallon understood his hesitation, he leaned forward, lacing his fingers loosely in front of him. “You cannot? Or you will not?”
         Scanning the faces around him, the man felt pensive and out of place. “Sir, I feel that this is not the proper place for such dark conversation.”
         Fallon scoffed. “We just killed six men. I feel that dark conversation should be considered normal in this company.”
         Dane’s eyes clouded. “You say that as if it was no different than washing your laundry or wiping up a spill. You broke that man and cut up another man as if they were simply some bothersome weeds. Do you still have so little shame?”
         Despite his self control, the men around the circle saw that their lord was frustrated. They all kept silent and were dedicated to keeping their mouths full. “Dane, I gave you every opportunity to leave and I told you if you stayed you would never return the same. I also told you in Dorsha that whatever you see now would be much worse. I have never misled any of you about what this assignment would include. I have spent nearly two years preparing all of you for the gruesome expectations of your positions. All of you have assured me that you were prepared and ready to face all of this.” He had looked around at all of his men, not wanting to come off as attacking Dane in his response. He needed to remind all of the men of their commitment. “But you knew what I was like before now and you had previous knowledge of how mercenaries work. You should have been the most prepared of anyone. But I do understand seeing your leader be like this is possibly a shock. My wife also saw worse than this, as will you.” The last part of his statement was directed toward Dane.
         Uneasy, Dane lowered his head. “I apologize, sir. You are correct. I should have been more prepared than anyone. May I please accept your previous offer to return and keep my station as a royal guard?”
         The men were surprised to see the subtle yet pained expression on Fallon’s face as he closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, his gaze was clear. “I will make an exception this once. Anyone else who feels this assignment may end up being beyond your capability to handle, please leave now. This is your last opportunity. The further we travel, the more dangerous it will be for you to leave and return.” He let his eyes linger on Kole as he looked around. The man met his gaze with determination. A moment later, he pulled parchment out of a pouch on his belt, along with an object none of them could see in the dim light. He pulled out a small writing utensil as well and quickly scratched some words on the page before folding it with the object inside and handing it to Dane. “Do not open this until you give it to Gammir or my wife. This will confirm your position and prove I sent you back with my full trust.”
         Dane’s blue eyes looked around as his face flushed from his sense of shame. He was the only one leaving. Checking around their camp and over his shoulder, he dropped to one knee quickly, put his fist over his heart and then rose and mounted his stallion. “I will be forever grateful, my lord,” he said in a low voice.
         Nodding, his king stood and grasped his forearm. “Return and tell Gammir I have given you specific instructions to guard my wife with no exceptions to time or place and that she is to keep the child with her at all times.” Dane was shocked that his lord would give him such an incredible assignment after he abandoned him during the most important job he would ever be given. The man grasped the mercenary’s hand and bowed his head before releasing him, kicking his heels and trotting off. The group of men watched as their companion left them to make the two week journey home.          No one spoke as they stared at him retreating. Ventris slowly poured more stew into a bowl, spilling it on himself and cursing out loud. It was an awkward sound after what had just occurred and the others chuckled uneasily.
         It took the company a while to settle down after that. However, after asking if anyone else wanted to follow Dane, Fallon sat down and lightened the mood by taking the extra food and downing it. “I won’t let it be wasted," he said with an odd smirk. “I mean, this is cheese. Who would waste cheese?” Kole laughed, passing Fallon some ale in a skin.
         The king gave him a genuine smile, one that Kole recognized from the moment Fallon took over the throne. He may still look or act like a mercenary, but there was this nagging feeling inside that he was not the man he used to be. Maybe his high opinion of his monarch tainted his perspective. He did not know for sure, but he would stand by his side until his final breath.
         They soon turned in for the night after their horses were brought out and fed. The appointed night watch sat on patrol while they all slept soundly. All except a man named Yuce. He lay awake, staring at the sky, planning his next move as the king sat by the fire, staring out across the fields.
         The morning started in a rush. It was barely light and an owl could be heard nearby. “They will know something has happened soon. Most likely they have someone waiting a day or so out from the city to make sure everything goes smoothly. If we do not find that person, the alarm will be sent out and the entire fortress will be on high alert quicker than we can handle.” The men were all mounted and on their way within fifteen minutes. Fallon had designated Ventris as his right hand. He would be the mercenary’s wild card. An elf was what they would never expect. Fallon had one advantage over any mercenary that he came in contact with. He had trained almost none of them. They were trained by those lower in ranking than him. He had crippled the fortress in great ways that gave him the benefit of this hunt. The group stayed off the road, traveling in the shadows of the trees when they could and in the open when they had no other choice.
         “We should be nearing the scout that is waiting to ensure nothing goes wrong. If we miss him and we lose him, this will turn into the darkest nightmare you could ever imagine almost immediately. Keep your eyes sharp. Ventris, Kole, scout ahead on foot no one else can hide their presence. If you can dispose of the sentry efficiently, then do so.” Fallon was taking no chances of missing this opportunity to keep their interference a secret as long as possible. The elf and half-breed nodded silently and dismounted, tying their horses to a nearby tree. Giving each other a smirk, their lips began moving subtly and they vanished from sight. Fallon watched the empty air for a moment before continuing at a slow, almost leisurely pace. There was no sense in hurrying until they knew it was necessary. He had no doubt that the two scouting ahead would have no problem completing their objective. Although he worried most for Kole. The innocence in that young man disturbed him. It was not that he did not appreciate it. He did, and that is why he was bothered. He tried his best to convince himself that he made the right decision by bringing the young half-breed, but as hard as he tried, he could not quite get himself to believe it. Looking back, he observed his other men. He looked them all over one by one, gauging their stature, how they carried themselves, their expressions, and their tension. Yuce seemed the most pensive, the most on edge. Perhaps he was the closest to how Dane felt. He was a quiet man, close in age to Fallon. Fallon had rarely heard him speak. But he was recommended as an incredibly skilled swordsman and fighter, with discernment in battle that was enviable. He did not disappoint in sparring. However, today he seemed more on edge than usual. His mood had soured after Fallon sent Ventris and Kole ahead to find the sentry waiting on the group from Dorsha. Yuce stared straight ahead, almost as if he was avoiding Fallon’s eyes on him. An uneasy feeling spread in the pit of the king’s stomach. He felt there was something behind this guard’s discomfort and that it was more than just seeing another dead body. Fallon calmly shifted in the saddle and called Yuce up to him.          The man quickened his pace until he matched his lord with his horse’s stride and glanced at the king. “Yes, sir?”
         The former mercenary chose his next words carefully, aware that what he was about to do could jeopardize everything from this point forward. “I want you to go ahead on foot and track behind Ventris and Kole. Report back when you know they've spotted the sentry and the outcome. If they need extra assistance, I’d like you to hurry back with the report so we can catch up with them as quickly as possible.”
         The other’s head swung up in surprise. “Uh… yes, sir. Of course. Right away.” he dismounted where he was and hurried off, leaving the road behind him and sneaking through the long grass.
         The change in Yuce’s mood and expression worried Fallon. It worried him, because it made him believe his gut and that was a dangerous hunch to have proven correct. Even still, all they could do was wait. He called another young man to ride beside him. This man’s name was Raffine. He was a good man. Solid. He was always willing to talk, though he was never one to start a conversation. Fallon wanted a temporary distraction as he continued the pace, now holding Yuce’s reins.
         Raffine rode up next to his king, looking like a school boy who found out his teacher liked him more than the other kids. “Yes, sir?”
         “I just wanted to talk. What is your position on this campaign as of now?” Fallon asked, not looking at him.
         The other man spoke up, seemingly happy with the attention. “It is much…” he hesitated as if unsure if he should continue. “Much different than I anticipated, while at the same time it is exactly what I thought it would be. Whether that is because of how well you trained us or partly because of the numerous stories I had heard about the mercenaries after you were crowned king.” He suddenly went silent and looked away. He realized that it was very possible that Fallon did not know that stories had circulated around the city about his history as a mercenary after he assumed the throne.

         As if on cue, his lord nodded as if thinking over the words deeply. “What stories did you hear?”

         Embarrassed and more than a little ashamed, Raffine stuttered for a moment before taking a breath and admitting the things he had heard. After Fallon had taken the throne the rumors of his gruesome history began to spread. Merchants who traveled between the Lowland and the Highland brought even more stories. Soon, there was not a single person who did not know who the recently established king of Kezna had been and the things he had done. Some were even first hand accounts from the few people lucky enough to have survived a raid.
         People passed them on the road and they prepared to stop and make camp. He sent another of his men, Iskale, to go back and get the other horses. He had almost expected the elves to be back by now. It made sense that they were not, but he knew his standards were incredibly high for all of his men. It was entirely possible that they were too high for any of them to meet. He had been disappointed once and was anticipating being disappointed again before the day came to an end.
         “Fallon,” Raffine cleared his throat. “If I may be so bold…” His voice faded as if he was reconsidering his next statement or question.
         “How did you become king? The stories of your past have circulated across the Highlands and Lowlands. And yet, they are of when you were a mercenary and then when you arrived in Kezna to challenge the steward. There are no stories of the months in between.”
         Fallon chuckled, almost uncomfortable with the inquiry. “It is a long story, Raffine. I will do my best to shorten it.” He spent the next hour or so stumbling through an awkwardly botched version of he and Calya’s life in exile before they arrived in their realm. Recounting it all made him feel as though he were a child back then. Calya had amazed and intrigued him. It was a far cry from the miserable, dejected and insulting man and husband he had become around her. As he told his story, he paused and rubbed his hand on the back of his neck and looked away, bothered by the lack of respect he had given his wife since they settled into their lives as monarchs. It was not as if it was a secret either. The entire palace staff were aware as well as the guards, his hunters, and others who came by the palace regularly or for royal requests. He would do anything to go back and just shut his mouth and sit on the throne for a few hours of boring delegation. But it was too late for that and he knew it. He had given up that luxury when he walked out of the bedroom that night.
         Raffne looked at him with concern. “Are you alright?”
         Fallon waved a hand and shook his head. “I just could have been a better man and king. That is all. But this is where I will make up for all of my failures.” He nodded ahead and set his jaw.
         The men had just sat down to eat when Iskale came back with the two horses. He tied them and joined the four others at the campfire. They ate fresh fruit from their hunt the day before and roasted some meat that had been salted and stored for later. It had begun to get dark before either of the scouts returned.
         Ventris returned first, disheveled and incredibly on edge. Dirt covered his clothes and sweat dampened his hair and tunic. The moment his companions saw him, they stood, concern on every one of their faces. He was breathing heavily and held his hand out for a drink. Raffine handed him a canteen of water. He guzzled it deeply before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and straightening up, still catching his breath. “He… he got… away,” he said between swallowing gulps of air. It took him another minute before he was able to compose himself, and everyone waited to hear the rest of what he had to say since two men were still missing. “Kole went after him. He was warned just as we were closing in. Yuce betrayed all of us, Fallon, including your wife,” he finished, looking at his leader.
         Taking a moment to calm his frustration, the king smiled bitterly. “Then it is a good thing I sent for help before I left so she would be protected. Where is Yuce now?”
         Ventris looked uncomfortable as he answered. “Kole got to him first. I have never seen him so volatile in my life, and I grew up with him. I tried to catch the sentry before he took off, but he was so fast and had a horse hidden nearby. We never even got a chance to look for it before Yuce blew our cover by alerting him that there were elves nearby. I do not think you would be able to recognize Yuce’s body now. Once Yuce was finished, Kole immediately went after the mercenary without hesitation. I knew someone had to come back and let you know, so we could go after him and make a plan.”

         Fallon tossed him some fruit and meat as he stood and stretched. “Let’s go find a body and a half-breed. Eat as you ride, if you can. This is going to be a long night.”

         Calya sat on her throne, staring out at nothing, her heart aching and her eyes watery. She had slept so little over the last two weeks that she felt barely able to function. The baby sighed in his sleep beside her in the cradle on the floor. She felt lost and alone. How long had her husband felt as though he was trapped? How long had he felt caged by her expectations? Could she have done anything different to help him? Or were the two of them really so different that they could never fully become one? The questions came like an avalanche and made her heart ache even more. Gammir stood by her side, unmoving, like a statue.
         “Gammir,” the queen said quietly.
         “Yes, my queen.” His response was rigid like his stance.
         Full of sorrow, the woman began to cry. It was just a few tears, but there they were, running down her beautiful face one by one. “Talk to me as a friend, Gammir. I need one right now and you know my husband better than even me. Could I have kept him here? Could I have convinced him to stay?”
         Gammir felt her pain in his very soul. “My lady, Calya, as a friend of yours and as a confidante of my king, I can honestly say there is nothing you could have said to make him change his mind. His feeling of inadequacy has tormented him continuously. He has been trying so hard to be what you and your people needed that he tried to deny who he was and pretend it was no longer a part of him. I can assure you his past is as much a part of him as his love for his wife and son. As a father I understand his sense of failure and as a husband, I understand his fear. Yet his is a past that I cannot even begin to fathom. He is unlike any other man you would ever know and therefore needs a greater sense of understanding. He is not weak by any means, but he is so strong he feels there is no one he can turn to in order to help him. If he is unworthy of being king, then how would he expect to use his position to rally an army behind him to put an end to Harta? That is not his way. He will not take what he feels he does not deserve and has not earned. He is working in the only way he knows how. Fallon has trained his men to ensure they will be superior to any other soldier and he will come back. But, my lady, he will not be the same man he was when he left, for good or bad, he will not be the man you remember.”
         Although Calya wanted honesty, Gammir’s answer did not comfort her. She felt she had missed what her husband genuinely needed. How had she not realized? Had Fallon been so expert in hiding it from her or had she just denied that she saw any of it. “Is this my fault, Gammir?”
         As if reading her thoughts, Gammir came up to his queen and rested a hand on her forearm. “Calya, there was nothing you could have done. He hid everything so you would not fear him. It seems I was his only confidante. I guess you could say I am to blame.” He watched the young wife and mother cry with a renewed sorrow as she clung to him, her body shuddering with sobs. The father and husband in him broke seeing her pain and he stood letting her get it out. Right now, he was not a guard. He was a dad to a young mother who had no father to comfort her.


         Two more weeks passed and suddenly a man burst through the doors of the throne room. No one dared to stop him since he was one of the king’s personally trained guards. Instead, a large group of people followed him to the hall and a group of servants and guards followed him to the doors of the throne room, waiting to hear what he had returned for, anxious that there was some sorrowful news concerning their king.          Dane hurried forward and dropped to his knees before the queen’s throne, his head lowered almost to the floor. “Your highness, I apologize for my sudden, unexpected appearance.”
         Fear came over Calya as she worked to remain calm and dignified before him. Gammir noticed from his station beside her throne and stepped forward. “Speak, soldier. What news have you of our king.” Gammir’s eyes were hard and challenging.
         Dane glanced at him and then raised his head to the queen. “Your highness, my lord the king is well and he is safe. He has begun his quest and has been successful and remains unharmed.”
         The queen held a hand up to her guard. “Peace, Gammir. Dane, why did you return?”
         The man dropped his head again as Gammir released his grip. It was obvious he was full of shame and embarrassment. “His highness sent me back home. I cannot pretend he was not disappointed in me. I could not stomach what was required of us, my queen. I have no excuse for my failure to do my job. You can punish me as you see fit. However, I was instructed to return and guard your highness at all times with no exceptions, no matter where you go or what you do. I rushed back as fast as I could ride. He sent me back with this as confirmation. I have not read the contents. Please do whatever it says.” He pulled out the folded parchment ad handed it to the queen before bowing his head nearly to the floor again.
         Calya requested that he rise as she unfolded the paper. A coin slipped out. It was a coin bearing the royal crest. Not many of these left the great hall. They were made more as a confirmation of association than as legitimate currency. She was aware that Fallon had filled a small money bag, but forgot that he had taken them when he left. He really was prepared for anything. She turned her attention to the page in her hand. It was a message in Fallon’s hurried script. It was a command to Gammir to instate Dane over her and the child. Tears pricked her eyes and she smiled sadly for a moment before looking back at the soldier before her. “I understand your sense of shame, but there is nothing to punish you for. The type of job that has been required of your guard is beyond the capability of even the most seasoned soldiers. I accept you as my guard without complaint or question.” She looked to Gammir, handed him the paper and coin and nodded toward the man. Her guard looked uncomfortable but nodded subtly in return. “Is there nothing else my king has said to you?”
         Dane stood and looked at her intensely. “He instructed that you must keep the prince with you at all times with no exceptions, your highness.” There was an uncomfortable silence.
         “Thank you, Dane. I am comforted to know that the king is concerned with our wellbeing even while away on his campaign. We will allow what you have said and follow the king’s orders exactly.” With that, the queen stood and stepped down from her seat, lifting her baby from his cradle. “Gammir, Dane, I will eat and then retire to my chamber for a time. Gammir, please move Trazer’s things to my chamber immediately.”
         Simultaneously, both men answered. “Yes, your highness.” Dane followed the queen to the kitchen and then stood before her chamber door on high alert as Gammir passed by him to the prince’s chambers to move his belongings.
         Returning to the queen’s door after, Gammir handed Dane four documents. “What is this?” the man asked curiously.
         Gammir stationed himself on the opposite side of the doorway. “Those are blueprints of the castle and every place that could conceal anyone. The king had secret chambers constructed without the queen’s knowledge in case there was ever a danger to her. I was the only guard allowed access to these by his highness and now since you have taken full responsibility of the queen and the prince, I give these to you. If such a situation arises that use of the…” His already hushed voice faded out as they both sensed someone walking down an adjoining hallway. The person turned down a different hall and left them alone in silence once again. The older man continued. “If ever a situation arises that requires use of any of these chambers, you are to lead her and the prince there and secure her before doing anything else. No one else is to accompany her. If you are unable, then I must. No other guard or servant must be made aware of the existence of these rooms. Is all of this understood?”
         Dane nodded in affirmation. “I do understand you are only telling me these things because the king has personally appointed me to the queen and not because you yourself trust me. I am grateful.”
         “Do this assignment better than your last and I will have no complaints.” Gammir was not impressed with this man who had become so close to the king he could speak freely and yet decided to abandon his assignment and go home. He would never have left Fallon’s side no matter how horrendous the situation became or how sickening the combat. Though he could not pretend he knew even half of what Fallon’s guards were witnessing while they hunted the mercenaries. He knew Fallon better than any man alive and he knew that no matter what happened, he needed his men with him.
         The next few days passed uneventfully and everyone seemed to relax except Dane. He was never more than two feet from his queen at all times except when she slept and when she relieved herself. He was suspicious that things were so quiet.

         It was morning when the messenger came into the throne room with a servant. "My queen," he began. "Yuce sent me to update you." Dane’s instincts told him something was wrong. They were not even allowed to mention her highness to each other, nevermind to a messenger. And why was the messenger sent by Yuce and not Fallon. His stomach turned and he narrowed his eyes slightly at the messenger.

         Calya waved her hand. "Please, speak. What news of my husband?"

         "The king has requested that I ensure your safety by directing you to a secret room near one of the guard houses. He has heard whisperings of an attack on you, my queen, and has sent an urgent message to hide you and your child where no one would ever think to look."
         Her lips parted slightly and she licked them, uncertain. Glancing at Gammir and Dane for assistance she saw Gammir nod to Dane. He was defaulting authority and decisions to the guard. The soldier shook his head slightly. It was so small a movement that only Calya was able to notice. It was a trap. They had come for her and her baby. She had to play along until she could devise a plan. "Please give me two hours to collect what I need for the prince and I will have my guards escort me to you then."
         He bowed his head and thanked her for being so willing to take the king's word, though it was extremely inconvenient.
         The queen dismissed him and stood to leave. She whispered to Gammir as she moved past him, seemingly unfazed. "Once he leaves, bar the doors to the palace. Every single one. No one comes or goes unless I give them consent. Dane, I do hope the king's trust in you is well founded. My nation may rest in your hands." By the time they arrived at her bedchambers, the guard already knew what he had to do. Yuce had betrayed the queen. Fallon would handle him easily, but the queen and child had two hours to be completely hidden before anyone became suspicious.


         The group stopped at the bottom of a hill. It was obvious that Yuce’s body had been kicked down after death. Fallon dismounted and rolled the body over with his foot. They had caught up to the place faster than he had thought they would and the sentry was stationed much closer than usual. Looking down, he saw just what Ventris meant. A strange feeling blossomed in the king’s gut. Yuce was cut up all over his body. His throat was covered in dark bruises, an arm and a leg were broken, and the side of his face was caved in. Judging by the amount of blood, the former mercenary assumed he did all of it before the man died and the caved in skull was what finally did him in. He looked up and scanned the landscape. There were faint signs that someone passed by before them, but it was hours old by this point. Although Fallon seemed completely confident in his protection of his queen, he could only hope beyond all possibility that Kikarii had heeded his warning and put aside his utter hatred of him in order to defend his former companion. Kikarii had been immature and bitter, but he was not a bad man. He was loyal and trustworthy and that was what Fallon had counted on. He may be confrontational, but he could also be extremely level headed. The king only hoped he had assumed correctly and Kikarii had decided to bring a force, no matter how small, to Kezna to help protect the city and its royalty. Where was Kole now, though? He could not possibly still be tracking the sentry on foot, could he?
         Fallon turned and mounted his horse once more, waving a hand forward. “We keep going. We must find Kole or the sentry. If we are lucky, we will find both together.”
         Digging in their heels they all galloped ahead, hoping not to lose yet another member before they had really begun their assignment. Everyone was protective of Kole, but no one showed it. Ventris was the most on edge about him missing. It was understandable, but he kept his thoughts to himself and sat stone-faced on his steed, riding beside Fallon silently as they rode through the darkness.

         Dawn lightened the horizon when they came to a small alcove in a large grouping of rocks. Ventris noticed something amiss and gestured to the rocks. Fallon turned his mare aside and rode toward it cautiously. There, sitting on the ground, tying a length of cloth around his thigh, was Kole. Blood soaked his clothing and his tunic was torn up, both from his attempts at medical aid and from a fight. He looked up warily when he heard the approach of horses, his sword in hand, and his muscles tight in anticipation for another fight. There was a fire in his glare that took Fallon by surprise. The soldier made a painful and unsuccessful attempt to rise, blood pouring anew from his wounds. Quickly, the king dismounted along with the others, and came to sit beside him.

         “Just sit Kole. Let me take a look at you.” Despite having limited control over his blessing, the former mercenary put his hands on the other’s shoulders and focused. His eyes swirled to a deep red before he closed them. Slowly, painstakingly, the lacerations closed and the bleeding stopped. However, unlike the queen, his healing was not as clean and faint scars were left covering his soldier’s body. Fallon, took a deep shaky breath.
         Kole stretched, satisfied with the healing he was given. He ignored the scars and thanked the king gratefully. He shook himself as if trying to rid himself of something that clung to him. Fallon knew the feeling well. There was something different in Kole’s eyes. There was something cold and unyielding that wasn't there before. “Do we have any meat left? I really could use something filling right about now.”
         Ventris let out an awkward laugh and nodded, patting his friend on the back. Fallon sat down with him while the others unpacked their camp stuff and went about gathering firewood. “How about you tell me what has happened since yesterday. We found Yuce.”
         Cursing under his breath, Kole looked upset. “Would you have expected me to do differently? He was willing to kill…” He stopped and cleared his throat. “The moment I saw that he had warned the sentry just ahead of us, something in me snapped. The rage I felt was like nothing I had ever experienced. I wanted to make him suffer the same way she would if she was found by them. I couldn’t stop myself.”
         “No, Kole. I would not have stopped you. You did what I would have done. What about the sentry you followed?” He lifted a hand to indicate Kole’s not so tidy appearance.
         “I’m sorry,” The big man responded. “I really tried to stop him. Our element of surprise was ruined the moment Yuce got himself involved. I did my best to chase him down. I took his horse from under him with my bow and sword and then tackled him to the ground when he fell.” When he saw his listener’s curious look, he clarified. “I shot the horse, but when it went lame, but did not stop, I began catching up and threw my sword into it. Then I ran up and put the animal out of its misery and tackled the mercenary. His skill was incredible. I cannot honestly say whether he was a half-breed or a pure elf or just a very incredible man. By the end, we were both bloody messes. I could not stop him from getting away, but I just may have wounded him enough that no one will get much information out of him if he is lucky enough to make it back at all. That is what I hope, at least.”

         Impressed, Fallon watched as Ishain cooked meat and handed it to Kole with a canteen of water. Kole was really much more than what he had originally perceived. Maybe he would not regret taking this man along with him in the end. Kole ate his fill and his superior had taken food for himself. When the others had relaxed and settled into easy conversation and picking at what was still cooking, the half-breed soldier was pulled to the side.

         “Kole, the way you killed Yuce was not normal for you. What actually happened back there?” Fallon, though impressed, was concerned with the sudden change in his guard.
         The other’s blue eyes looked straight into his face darkly. “The things that came out of that mouth, Fallon. Once he knew he was going to die, he continued saying the most vulgar things about the queen and you both. And then the things concerning the prince. That anyone could say such twisted things about a child…” He swallowed hard and ran his fingers angrily through his hair. “Nothing I did seemed to be enough. I had to make him stop talking. I had to break his mouth so severely he could never open it again. The rage… I could not stop it. I hated him more in that moment than I have ever hated anything. I felt and still feel no remorse for what I did. I thought Tris had dealt with the sentry, but as I’m sure you’ve heard, his wrestling skills are quite lacking and by the time I was done, the sentry was almost to his horse. Tris only came back because he knew I probably had a better chance of tracking him. Unfortunately, when I finished my own fight with him, I was unable to follow and had to find a place where I could have something solid against my back to keep a lookout.”
         Uncertainty flashed over the older man’s expression. There was really no more to say. Kole hid nothing and he felt nothing toward his victim. The king sighed heavily and rubbed the back of his neck, glancing over at the group where casual conversation and laughter flowed freely and enjoyably. “Ventris did not tell me that, but it is not surprising. I’m sure hewas keeping his dignity intact by not revealing his failure.” Fallon smirked. “We should go back before they think you’ve been admonished. You have definitely proven your value and commitment to me and our cause. I hope you continue to exceed my expectations.” He gestured back toward the campfire, and when the half-breed joined the others, they let up a humor-filled, immature cheer and patted him on the back, laughing. The man heard a couple of questions being asked seriously before the conversation lightened up again and the jokes and rowdiness continued anew. Ventris looked back at his lord for a moment as if looking for something. The king nodded, gave a smile, and walked away into the darkness.
         Fallon’s mind was a pit of dark worry. He knew that he would never be the king and husband that Kezna and Calya needed and deserved. He had realized that as soon as he made his first kill in Dorsha. Walking alone under the stars reminded him of the dream he had immediately after they had left the city. It reminded him of the night he killed Hannon. While thinking about it, Kole’s face came into his thoughts. Yuce’s body was next. The destroyed flesh and caved-in skull was the result of pure, unbridled rage. The type of rage it took to leave that result was one that Fallon never thought the young man would be capable of. Kole reminded him of himself and while he was proud, he was also disturbed by the revelation. He would try to keep him close from now on. Knowing how easy it was to go down the path that he had, the former mercenary made a vow to watch over Kole in hopes of keeping as much of his innocence and compassion intact as possible. Fallon had secrets, secrets that should be able to keep Kole from destroying his own life. He would rather use every skill and ability he possessed than let Kole wreck himself down to his very soul.


         Scouts on the wall were on high alert when they spotted the rider thundering toward the gates at an alarming speed. They could tell even from the distance that his horse was laboring. One of the men hollered down to those at the gate. “Incoming rider! Send for Gammir immediately!” One of the soldiers ran to get the maid in the market. The women rushed to the courtyard where Gammir busied himself checking the horses and weapons. He looked pensive and angry. The woman hastened by him into one of the stalls next to where he was tacking up his horse, feeding the young mare some hay. She spoke quietly after looking over her shoulder. “A rider is coming from the border. The horse appears to be lame. The wall scouts and gate guards are concerned and have requested your immediate presence.”
         Gammir’s eyes widened, he quickly pulled the last strap tight, swung up into the saddle, and raced from the stable, riding low over his steed’s neck. He skillfully avoided people as the horse thundered through the streets to the gates. He arrived a minute before the stranger, swinging out of the saddle and bounding up the stairs with the speed of a man half his age. “Don’t open the gate,” he said, startling the man he appeared beside.
         “Of course, sir.” The man raised a hand, tightening it to a fist to give the signal for the men on the other side of the opening to hold the gate.
         Gammir threw down a rope ladder from where it was secured. He deftly climbed down to meet the rider. The man rode up, clearly exhausted and dehydrated. His horse’s mouth was foaming and flecked with blood and its breathing was labored. It was obvious the horse had almost gone lame in the hard ride to the city. The older man’s gloved hand rested on the hilt of his sword, prepared for anything
.          Gasping and sweating, the man nearly fell off his horse. “Queen Calya… in danger… I… rode all night… mercenaries… are coming for her…” The man’s throat burned and dirt caked his skin and clothing.
         Turning, Gammir waved to the guards on the wall. “Open the gates and let this man in!” In seconds, the gates began grinding open to let the stranger pass through. Two guards came out and helped the man walk through and another took his horse to be looked at. “Someone go with him and find out what else he knows, then send word to the hall!” With a last glance out across the fields, he mounted his own horse and turned to leave. “Drop the gate and do not open it again for anyone until I tell you myself.” Digging his heels in, he took off back, toward the palace to rally the soldiers there to how close the enemy was.

         Calya grabbed two blankets, clothes for changing the baby, swaddling clothes, and her longsword that hung more as a memento on the wall in her bedchamber. Dane, watched from the door, stoic and with an expression of ice. He had memorized the blueprints he had been given and hid them away in secret. Dane took Calya down multiple hallways toward the rear of the castle, near the forest. The tower that had been constructed under Orin had been torn down and trees and bushes had been planted to cover up as much of the area as possible in order to hide the atrocities committed there. When they reached the hallway that led to the dead end that used to have the door to the tower, Dane came up short, concentrating on the wall. Calya breathed steadily even while her heart pounded in her ears like a deafening drum. After what felt to her like hours, her guard pressed on two stones simultaneously and the wall swung almost silently open. Calya’s eyes were wide with shock and amazement. Dane pulled her through hurriedly, before closing the wall again with a thud.
         I should be in the front fighting, he thought to himself in aggravation. Yet even as he thought that, he knew Fallon would only entrust him to protect his wife and son if he was the best he had. Should someone somehow find her, he was the last chance she had to survive. He pressed on another part of the wall against the side of the castle and another door swung quietly away, revealing a hallway. Calya gasped. She stared at Dane, her eyes full of questions. “Later, your majesty. We must hurry.” He stepped in and took out flint, using the spark he created to light a torch on the wall. Taking it in his hand, he led her down a long corridor before rolling back a portion of overlapping carpet and pulling a hidden door up and out of the way. He beckoned for her to descend the steps quickly, offering to hold the now sleeping prince. She dropped her belongings to the floor, handed him the child, and made her way carefully down the wooden rungs into an incredibly cramped space hardly large enough for two people to stand without pressing up against each other. Dane handed down the infant and carefully descended, doing his best not to push her into the wall. He moved a tapestry with the royal family coat of arms, and pushed open a barely noticeable stone door. He held the torch forward to illuminate the next room, revealing an enormous underground chamber, furnished with furniture, including a bed, a crib, a wash basin, a table, and more. The queen entered with Dane close behind. It was so large, she could hold a full council, cook meals, and go about daily life down below the castle floor. Quickly, her guard moved around to light each of the many torches around the chamber. The more he set ablaze, the larger she saw the room was. He finished lighting all of the torches and set his in a sconce beside the door. He retrieved the blankets and sword from the hallway above, laid the carpet over the opening, shut and locked the door from the inside, and removed the ladder they had used to enter the small room. He brought the ladder into the large chamber, made sure the banner was hanging straight, and closed the stone door behind him.

         Calya laid the infant in the crib, which was impressively clean and tidy, and turned to Dane for answers. The man cleared his throat and motioned for her to sit if she wanted. She did so and returned the gesture. The guard obliged and laced his fingers between his knees. “Fallon… uh, I apologize. His majesty had this chamber constructed in the event that the mercenaries came for you. When the prince was born, he made sure that whatever the baby would need was down here as well. No one is aware of the existence of anything you just witnessed except Gammir and now me. The hallway we are connected to runs inside the castle wall behind the rooms and closets of the palace. We are completely safe and not a single maid or servant or soldier besides your two personal guards are aware of any of this.”
         Calya marveled at the care and effort Fallon took to make sure she and their child were protected in case of an attack on the city. He even made sure she would be able to get here in the event that he was absent. “How long has this place been here?” she asked, looking around as if she hadn’t done so already.
         “From what Gammir told me, it was begun at least a year ago and finished just before he left.”
         Calya, went over to rest on her bed, very much used to a guard always being around her, even when she lounged. She was very much a queen, and yet very much still a self sufficient young woman unconcerned with unnecessary formalities. If they were going to be hiding out, she saw no reason to require formalities between just the two of them. Closing her eyes momentarily, she thought through the flood of memories that filled her mind. And then she thought of the care and effort he put into always ensuring her safety. He must have created new blueprints based off of Orin’s old plans. In secrecy, he never ceased to be her guard and protector. He really did love her. And now, he was out there with no army, trying to accomplish something that would claim him, body and soul. “Please tell me, Dane, what caused you to leave the king’s side?” She opened her eyes and looked at him, seeing him shift uneasily in the chair, his eyes glued to the floor. “I don’t ask for the sake of discipline. I would just like to know what happened that was too much. You needn’t worry. I know my husband better than most, and I am not surprised that he was too much for you to handle.”

         The guard took a deep, shaky breath, gulped down the lump in his throat and began recounting events, beginning with how he knew Fallon to begin with.

         The battle horn sounded from atop the walls, alerting the soldiers that the enemy was spotted. Even from the city walls, the scene was disturbing. The group of mercenaries that was present was much smaller than anticipated. But before, behind, and all around them, fields burned. The dark smoke billowed up into the sky like a suffocating blanket. Farmers, fishermen, children, and animals could be seen in the distance fleeing the devastation. Those who could grab horses galloped toward the city in a desperate attempt to escape the men that swept through their homes with deadly force. Those who were able, pulled children up on their steeds in hopes of rescuing them from the carnage. The soldiers on the walls had never seen the mercenaries at work and gulped in anticipation for what they would face. But they were prohibited from opening the gates, even for their own people. The thought of watching a complete massacre of all those who lived outside the walls chilled the soldiers to the bone. But keeping the city safe and secured and focusing on the queen and those who could be saved was necessary. The casualties of this decision could not be avoided. A shout came from one of the lookouts nearby. A signal had been passed on from the far side of the wall. Another force was approaching. Gammir was beside the military commander in a moment, listening to the scout giving the alert. “Allies? But no one knew to anticipate an attack. How are our allies here, and what allies do we have from that direction?”

         The commander of the king’s army looked just as confused. The two rushed along the wall, racing to see what the scouts were shouting about. Hoping beyond all reason the announcement was true. Relief spread through the men when they came to a stop along the southern wall.