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  Cayden gazed into her calm emerald eyes and his panic stilled.

  He raised his hands to the crowd, who now stood in front of him and behind him, the group from the inn peering out the door.

  He felt a feather-like touch along his cheek and heard a thunk. His mind had barely registered the fact that an arrow had imbedded itself in the door frame by his head, when a second arrow pierced his shoulder tossing him backward onto the boardwalk.

  Ziona cried out and flung her body over his, shielding him from any more arrows. The first row of the sworn men scrambled upright and formed a human barricade around him, allowing no one access. One man pointed at the rooftop of the building across the street, where a man was seen running off toward the back of the building. Several men took off in pursuit.

  Cayden groaned, blood gushing from his right shoulder and soaking his cloak and shirt. Ziona eased back off of him and glared at the men assembled around her. A sharp wicked knife with an obsidian handle gleamed in her hand.

  “Be true to your oaths, gentlemen, or be prepared to pay this day with your life,” she growled at them all. She flashed the knife and the men backed away slightly. The man with the wandering eye spoke up. He had pushed his way outside to help form part of the men protecting Cayden after he was hit.

  “We have been sworn to defend the royal family since we were children. We will defend his life with our own. This we have always done and now that we have found him, this we will do with our last breath.”

  Ziona locked her eyes on his, dragging the truth from him. Seeing the honesty there, she nodded. “What is your name?”

  “Tobias, my lady.”

  “Help me get Cayden back inside to our room.”

  Tobias gestured to another man beside him and together they lifted Cayden. He groaned in pain and his eyes rolled, sweat beading on his brow. They carried him back up the stairs as smoothly as possible and gently lowered his unconscious form onto the bed.

  “Do you have a healer in this town?”

  “We have a midwife, but she is used to setting bones. Perhaps she can be of assistance.”

  “Fetch her.” The second man left.

  “Tobias, I want a guard placed on this room, twenty-four hours a day. Do you understand me?” Tobias nodded. “Also, I want you to find the innkeeper and bring her to me. She is involved in this assassination attempt in some way.”

  “Yes, my lady, it shall be done. I will send up two men I trust to begin guarding the door immediately. I will also see to your horses, my lady.” With that, he bowed and left the room, closing the door behind him.

  Chapter 35

  NELSON PEERED AT THE GLOWING GREEN WALL. Surely it was easier to build a ramp or a staircase to the suspended door than it was to assail the foundation wall of a tower that soared eight stories above the four stories buried deep underground, the fourth of which he was reduced to staring at as he attempted to form a plan to get through it. “Fabian has the easier of the two assignments,” grumbled Nelson.

  Nelson could try tunnelling deeper, but he suspected the foundation sat on bedrock. He could try blowing it up, but the resultant explosion would alert everyone inside the castle to his activities and most likely bring the upper four stories of natural caverns down on his head, and be insufficient to breach the wall in the end. There was insufficient water available to wear away the stone like he had done with his cold storage back at the inn in the village.

  He ran his hand over his chin, scratching the day’s growth of stubble. Absently, he reached for his cup of cold water sitting on a narrow stone ledge where he had placed it an hour ago.

  The lad at his elbow spoke up. “Did you require anything more, sir?”

  “Yes. I need a way to get through this section of wall, but I am stumped as to how to do it.”

  The lad peered at the limestone block in front of them. It was a faint pink colour and marbled with white veins. “We could use the same fungal paste we were using earlier, sir, if you are interested. You know it, the paste we used to widen the passageway. It worked quite quickly.” He waved his hand in the general direction of the limestone block. “The mortar is made of the same substance as the veins of this block. We should be able to dissolve the white material completely.”

  Nelson smacked his head. Of course, how could he have forgotten? Stupid old age is creeping up on me. He frowned at the rock. “How long will it take?”

  The lad paused, thinking. “Two days to make enough paste, I think…and maybe a week to dissolve the veins?”

  Nelson clapped him on his shoulder. “Get it done in four days, and I have free ale for the night for you and your crew at the inn.”

  The lad whooped and ran from the cavern to gather his team.

  ***

  Fabian sat back and munched on one of his sticky buns that he had brought along as an incentive to his crew. The icing oozed onto his fingers and he licked them, eyeing the proceedings.

  The first stage was constructed, a wooden platform levelling out the bottom of the construct. Risers were being erected on the first stage and fastened in place. In all, they needed to rise about three stories to parallel the door of the Traitor’s Gate.

  Construction was going slower than he had hoped for. He had a shiny silver piece at risk, should his crew fail to gain entrance before Nelson’s. He knew the old innkeeper was as stingy as a washwoman during a drought. He had to be in well ahead of time or kiss his coin goodbye.

  Denzik strolled out of the mouth of the passage and paused beside him, watching the workers. He reached into the basket and picked up a sticky bun and bit deeply into its cinnamon center.

  “I heard frum sum of the earz today,” he mumbled around the delicious mouthful. He swallowed and continued, “There are rumours of a young man moving in this direction who is gathering quite the following.” He popped in the last mouthful and chewed slowly. “Some say he has the look of our former king, although how that would be possible, I have no idea.”

  Fabian tore his gaze from his contemplation of the stairs and raised his eyebrows. “Is it possible, do you think? Is this the one?”

  “Yes…yes I think so,” Denzik said slowly. “So many things have been happening lately, fortuitous events. It’s as if the fates or the Mother Goddess herself is taking an active hand. The ears are very active. Rumours are flooding into the system. Some speak of spirits on the move, haunting armies and laying waste to any that stand in their paths. Others speak of Nature herself rising up, wolves roaming, birds gathering, as though being called to battle. There are even rumours of Primordial warriors past our borders. Something is happening. We need to be ready.”

  Fabian nodded, thoughtful. “Have you alerted our branches to gather their men and prepare?”

  “Yes, I did, as soon as we discovered the wizard. They are on high alert and sharing the watch, ready to respond. One village north of us has already gone silent. It is the area where the lad was rumoured to have been last seen. I can only hope it is positive news of them on the march.”

  “Time is short then.”

  Denzik nodded.

  “Well we need a couple more days here, four at the most.”

  Denzik nodded again and then left to relay the news to Nelson.

  Time is indeed short, Denzik thought. If this was the moment they had waited and prepared for all these years, they were actually out of time.

  Chapter 36

  CAYDEN WOKE TO A SOFT TONGUE lapping at his face. He opened his eyes to focus on two large ice blue eyes staring at him. Sheba was stretched out along the left side of his body on the bed. He attempted to sit up but immediately sank back in a groan, realizing for the first time that his right shoulder was swathed in bandages.

  “She has not left your side. As soon as you were struck, she bounded out of the woods. I had to convince the men that she was your guardian also. She was frantic to get to you, so frantic that she has ignored her fear of men.” Ziona sat in a chair to the right side of the bed observing Cayden.
“She snapped at the hand of anyone who got too close. Remarkable restraint for a wild animal, I’d say.” Ziona ruffled Sheba’s fur.

  They have worked out an understanding, Cayden thought.

  “What day is it?” Sunlight streamed through the eastern-facing window.

  “It’s early the next morning. I thought it best to keep you sedated while we took the arrow out and healed your wound. It was deep and hit the bone. We had to remove some bone fragments that splintered, so you will be sore while it heals. I can speed up the process, but it still uses your body strength to heal, so the best thing is rest.”

  Cayden moved his right arm in a circle, rotating it carefully, testing its limitations.

  “Did you catch the archer? Did you find the one who shot me?”

  Ziona shook her head. “No. He seems to have had his escape route planned in advance. The innkeeper has disappeared also.”

  “What of all the people in the square? Are they all right?”

  Ziona smiled. “I think I will let them tell you. It is very interesting what they have to say.” She stood up and tucked his blankets in more closely to him. “I will go get you some food. Tobias is standing watch at your door. He has refused to rest until he saw you were fine with his own eyes. I will send him in to chat. He can be trusted.”

  She walked across the room to the door. Sheba’s head swivelled to watch her go, eyes intent on the door and what lay beyond. She sniffed the air. Cayden stroked her fur and sensed her contentment at his touch.

  Ziona was replaced by Tobias, who entered, closing the door behind him and then snapped to attention. “My lord, you wished to speak to me, sir?”

  Cayden watched the man’s lazy eye twitch in its socket. The scar was more pronounced this morning, possibly due to his tiredness at standing guard all night.

  “How did you receive that scar?”

  “I was in the Kingsmen Cavalry, my lord. I served during the Daimonic wars. During the Primordial uprising of Daimon Ford, I was speared by a Primordial soldier who had gotten inside the perimeter guard of the High Prince.”

  The door opened and another man walked in behind Tobias, the second man who had stood guard through the night. “My name is Stephanos, my lord. What he doesn’t tell you is that he took down six other Primordial soldiers while having three arrows stuck in his body, saving the life of the High Prince.”

  Tobias shrugged. “I refused to allow them to hurt the prince.” He bowed his head to Cayden. “But I have failed you, my lord, and I will accept any punishment you see fit. I should have seen the assassin on the top of the building.” Tobias knelt by Cayden’s bedside on one knee, hands clasped on his knee and head lowered. He looked like a condemned man waiting for the headman’s axe.

  Cayden struggled to sit up, gasped with the pain and sunk back. Sheba emitted a low growl but did not move.

  “Don’t be a fool,” Cayden gasped, wheezing. One of those bones the arrow struck must be related to my ribs, he thought. “We had only arrived. There was no way to anticipate that attack. It must have been totally impromptu.” Cayden frowned. “Rise, would you? You are embarrassing me. Besides, I can’t see you on the floor.”

  Tobias scrambled to his feet, his face flaming. “I apologize again, my lord. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

  Stephanos chuckled. “My lord, our friend Tobias here is a very literal person. I suggest you speak true every time and hold thoughts you may not wish taken to heart for he will see every word spoken as a command.”

  Cayden puzzled over what he was expected to do with the two men.

  They were dressed similarly in tan pants made from a homespun cloth. Leather vests topped laced shirts with loose sleeves. Both men wore broadswords strapped to their backs. Stephanos’s dark beard hid a pointed chin.

  “I have the impression you were somehow waiting for me to come, although I cannot figure out any reason for a large contingent of king’s soldiers to be holed up in this town.”

  “That is easily explained, my lord. We have been living our lives in this town since we were dismissed from the king’s service seventeen years ago. The queen dismissed all those loyal to the king. We have raised families here.” Stephanos fiddled with his bearded chin, nervously.

  Tobias grimaced and spat on the floor and then realizing what he had done, shifted uncomfortably. “Sorry, my lord,” he murmured. “The queen did not dismiss us. She rode us out of town on threat of death. What she did not realize is that our oaths are for life. She should have killed us.” He made to spit again, but then thinking better of it he swallowed back his spittle.

  “She did reconsider after the fact. We had to disband in order to not be hunted down like rabid animals. We dispersed,” continued Stephanos, “settling in small villages and towns across the land, blending in with the locals, never together in numbers so large as to be noticed. But we did not disband. We have continued to work against the queen and have undermined her reign since the beginning. We have worked to sabotage her supply lines to make her forces ill. We have stolen horses, interrupted couriers, whatever came to mind to create mayhem for her legions. Many of these events she has blamed on the Primordials. All the while, we remained hidden and waited for the return of the prophesied king.” He bowed to Cayden once again.

  Cayden looked from one to the other and finally spoke what he dreaded saying, “And you think I am this king?”

  Tobias caught his eye and grinned. “Of that, my lord, there is no doubt. You will see when we get closer to the capital. There are statues, my lord, in the central square that could have been molded from your form.”

  Cayden shook his head, dizzy as the implications washed over him. He could not move freely. He would be immediately recognized wherever he went. A part of him wanted to jump to his feet and flee, run as far and fast as he could as fate squeezed him to this path. He saw a great cage looming overhead, one he would never be able to escape, responsibility such as he had never wanted or known.

  “My lord,” Stephanos spoke this time. “We have heard it is prophesied you will free your people from the queen’s grasp. We have waited these long years, working and preparing for this day. We have raised families and have sons and daughters pledged to your service. We are yours, as we pledged yesterday.”

  Cayden saw Stephanos was completely earnest in his words. Curious, he asked, “How many Kingsmen are we speaking of, Stephanos?”

  “We are only one of many groups, my lord. The head of our organization is a man who is near the capital. We do not know his name, as we have only ever known those in our closest units to protect the others should some of us be captured. But at last count, your men totalled around twenty thousand troops, my lord.”

  Cayden sat bolt upright despite the pain. “Twenty thousand?” he exclaimed.

  “Yes, my lord. They are scattered and would take time to assemble, but they exist, my lord.”

  “Oh sweet Mother of Earth,” Cayden swore. What was he to do with so many people looking to him…to do what? He didn’t even know what he was to do. He sank back to his pillows with a loud, extended groan. It was only partially due to the pain of his injuries, but the two soldiers believed he was tiring and backed out the door with low bows.

  “We will leave you to rest, my lord. Have no fear; we are standing guard while you sleep.” They withdrew with many more bows and closed the door behind them with a click.

  Cayden flung his arms over his eyes, trying to hide from the cage closing on him, but there was nowhere to go.

  Chapter 37

  RYDER LED HIS MEN AWAY FROM THE TOWN two days after the attack. His men insisted on helping to bury the dead and making a start on repairing the damage to the inn and other buildings in the village. They could not stay for long, however, and after a couple days, they mounted up. As they rode away, Ryder found his ranks had swelled from their original thirty to nearly one hundred.

  A sizeable portion of the villagers revealed themselves to be Kingsmen who had settled in the town a
round the time of Cayden’s and Ryder’s birth. The men had approached Darius and expressed their desire to assist with the young lord’s adventure, as Darius had put it. Ryder suspected the men knew more than they were letting on.

  For one, they had assembled on the morning of departure, fully outfitted and ready for a long campaign. Each man had brought his own mount, pack, supplies, and weapons. Each man had also donned his former King’s Guard uniform. Some strained around girths that had realigned themselves south over the intervening seventeen years. However, all the men wore them proudly.

  They rode into the camp and sat their mounts, waiting and expectant.

  Darius had approached the lead man or who Ryder assumed was their leader. After a quick conversation, Darius had walked over to where Ryder had been saddling his mount.

  “They want to join us.”

  Ryder had inspected the men. It would be stupid to refuse such a well-trained group of soldiers who were not mercenaries, even if they were old enough to be his father. Their skills would be invaluable.

  “Let’s make use of them. See that our men are mixed into their units. With their obvious military training, they should be able to teach cavalry charges and the like. They are to report to you as their superior. Select the men who are capable leaders and bring them to me. We will assign them rank.”

  Darius had done as instructed and now the reformed band had an orderly march, the men set in fighting units.

  Ryder rode, flanked on one side by the chosen bannermen of the day and by Darius on his other side. He twisted in his saddle, gazing back at the band of men following him. They had not seen any fighting yet, but he knew deep down it was coming. There was no way for them to reach the capital city without bumping into the queen’s legions. And then there were those Charun following them. He felt as though he was being squeezed through a cattle chute toward a dark and dangerous future.