Synopsis
Stefan, the last prince of Kendria and heir to his fathers throne, can’t wait for the opportunity to live up to his forefathers and become the magnificent warrior and noble leader he was destined to be. The chance comes at last as his father sends him to the border where his people are ever holding back their blood enemy who live deep within the dark lands of Taragnor, the hordes of villainous life that serve the enemy of all decent life on Soleden, Karadell. But his moment of triumph is tainted as the arrival of Prince Jurawl, third son of the King of the Isle Kingdom, triggers an event that puts all their lives in danger. Suddenly doubt echoes in his footsteps and he is troubled an unseen enemy that lurks ever in the shadows just beyond his sight.
In the cold harsh lands bordering their kingdom he escapes the uncertainty and finds his place besides new friends he can trust as he completes his training to become the next King. But in the comfort of high stone walls and familiar routine all goes wrong and again he finds himself faced with an unseen foe that threatens to take his life. Questions unanswered the young prince begins to doubt himself and wonder, was it all just him?
Chapter Eighteen
The company dismounted and tended to their mounts. Langolis gestured to Stefan and a lieutenant who was riding with the party to approach. Grumbling under his breath Stefan did as his leader commanded, though it stung bitterly.
“I want the two of you to scout the area and make sure that it is secure. If there are any troubles report back to me immediately. We will wait fifteen minutes before heading back, make sure you return by then.” He waved a dismissive hand at them.
The lieutenant did not blink an eye as he saluted to him, Stefan slow to follow and doing so stiffly. It was another mistake in his opinion. If it were he who was leading the patrol he would have waited until the scout returned, if he truly felt a need to scout the area, and let him pick which soldiers would be best suited for the task. And it was by no coincidence that he had given the task to the only two who might challenge his authority
He followed the young lieutenant as they left the clearing leaving another soldier to take care of his mount. The man he found himself with was one he had not met before though he had seen him about the keep and in the mess hall. He was one of the younger lieutenants newly come to his station. Stefan guessed him to be in his mid twenties, still quite young to have risen already to such a responsible position. His hair was brown and thin and fell down to his shoulders. He was clean-shaven as was the practice in the military, broad of shoulder and looked for all like a tavern brawler. His face was set in a serious expression yet there was a hidden friendliness in his eyes that Stefan liked. He decided that even if he were not so occupied with being annoyed at the pig-headed Squire he would not feel uncomfortable around this man.
The lieutenant turned to him silently and cocked his head to the side inquisitively. Stefan instantly knew what he meant by it. In deference he was offering him to take the lead, though he was sure the man would not offer this if he believed there was any risk. But Stefan was quite happy to admit that he knew nothing of scouring the wilderness for signs of enemy movement. He was not familiar with the area and lacked the patience to move silently through the brush and trees so happily indicated that the lieutenant should take the lead. In the whole Stefan admitted that he was a poor choice for this duty, a fact Langolis should have realised if he had put any thought into it as they had been around each other long enough.
As silently as he could he followed behind the experienced soldier as he wound his way effortlessly between the trees. Though he made no sound that he could determine to Stefan s ears, his own feet betrayed them to all within hearing as they crunched loudly over the last decaying leaves from the fall and cracked over fallen twigs from the canopy above. He winced as each noise sounded loudly in his ears no matter how carefully he trod or how attentively he followed his companions example. If there were any enemies close by, he thought bitterly, he would give them ample warning of their approach. Curse that damned Squire for his foolishness.
The woods were silent and devoid of life as it stood in the cold clutches of winter. He knew the silence was misleading as even in this coldest of seasons the forest still teemed with life if one listened carefully and knew the signs. But Stefan did not know these signs that he was to look for and there was no way he could hear anything over his own heavy footfalls. To him the forest seemed lifeless, almost dead, a discomforting place where every sound echoed amongst the tress and where he lacked any true skill.
A noise snapped his attention away from his brooding and the lieutenant s hand shot out to halt him. Together they stood in complete silence, Stefan holding his breath, listening to the sounds of the woods. As hard as he might he could hear nothing but the wind whistling eerily in the tress and the sound of his own heart pounding.
After a few moments the lieutenant lowered his hand and seemed to relax, though his face remained troubled. They set off again and had gone only a few steps when again the soldier held out is hand to halt him. His eyes searched the trees for any sign of what had caused him to stop, and though Stefan looked with him he could see nothing to raise his alarm. But the experienced soldier seemed troubled. Stefan turned to him and leaned close so that their faces were bare inches apart.
“What is it Lieutenant?” Stefan whispered in concern.
“I do not know your highness, but I think it would be best if we headed back to the others.”
Stefan nodded and moved aside to let the man pass. Just then there was a loud sickening thud and he turned to see a crude shaft embedded in the trunk of a tree he had been standing near only seconds ago.
“Take cover!” the soldier yelled as he dived behind a nearby tree.
Stefan followed his example as an arrow whistled by his ear. He stood with his back pressed against the tree and looked over to the soldier, struggling to keep down his panic and remain calm. The lieutenant held his hand to his lips and slowly began to inch his head around the trunk, then quickly he pulled back as another arrow sped past where his head had just been. He held up his hands and indicated that there were six and mouthed the word: “Warlocks.”
Stefan nodded and grimly drew his sword. The two stood there in silence for a few moments, weapons at the ready, until the sound of the hidden enemy crashing through the brush carried to them. Warlocks were not known for their patience. Without a bow between them, another overlook Langolis had neglected, there was nothing they could do to hold back the onslaught. With no more reason for silence the lieutenant quickly pulled a horn from his belt and blew a long, deep note. The sound bounced off the tress and came back to them with increased volume. He had called for aid.
At that moment a huge hairy beast of a man came crashing through their place of hiding and turned to the first fighter he saw, the lieutenant. He quickly threw the horn to the side so that he could raise his sword to block the heavy overhead swing the warlock directed with a heavy double bladed axe. The sound of the two metals striking reverberated through the trees followed by an angry animal cry from the warlock. Stefan stepped from behind the tree to help the soldier who was stunned by the heavy blow. A fast movement of colour was all he had as warning as he dived backwards avoiding another charging warlock. He turned to find a face covered in a mass of tangled blond hair staring back at him. The warlock rose to his feet in a crouch and slowly began to approach him holding a crude dagger half the size of a sword before him, his mouth set in a wide toothy grin. There was nothing a warlock loved more than a fight.
