any other, was Vulcan’s right hand.
Where Vulcan was brash, Varian was
quick to analyze and advise; where
Vulcan
preferred
to
use
brute
strength, Varian preferred to use his
mind to outwit the enemy.
That more than anything was the
reason why Varian, along with five
Morden warriors, was hidden in the
forest behind Castle St. Ives, waiting
for something to happen that would
give away the secret to breeching
those walls. On the first day, Varian
had noticed that all of the trees
seemed to grow wild everywhere
except for near to a certain patch of
ground. That had been the secret
pathway. From that day, he and some
soldiers had been sitting in the forest,
waiting for any occurrence that would
indicate the secret entrance and how
to open it. On this day, they’d been
sitting for over six hours, watching
and waiting. No one spoke; all eyes
were alert. When Varian was about to
suggest sending in new warriors to
replace the ones that had been with
him for hours, he heard a creak and a
tree moved.
If the soldiers hadn’t seen it with
their own eyes, they would not have
believed it. One of the trees next to
the back of the castle pushed forward,
as the wall seemed to slide inward
before swinging outward. A smile
touched Varian’s lips.
A soldier stepped out first, sword
drawn, as he scanned the area.
Another stepped out behind him and
did the same. After minutes of
scanning the area, they motioned to
someone inside of the castle. As
Varian watched on, one, two…five
horses were led through the secret
passage. Two soldiers, dressed from
head to toe in dark garb, were seated
upon the last horses, while the other
soldiers walked beside their horses.
Varian’s
interest
was
piqued
immediately. His eyes narrowed as he
looked at the two soldiers on the
horses. Why weren’t they walking,
like the rest? And where was their
armor? His eyes took in their garb,
dark blue or black to blend with the
night, and then he looked to their feet.
Small feet covered in leather boots.
He took in their builds once more—
small build, small feet, kid boots
—
women
. As the procession made its
way deeper into the forest, about five
more soldiers, these on foot, trailed
behind them. Two women, followed
by a procession of armed soldiers,
could only mean one thing. The
princesses were trying to escape.
Varian waited until the secret door
came forward once more and the tree
resumed its place before he turned
and motioned the men to retreat. On
silent feet, they crept back to the
camp of lit torches and ever-ready
soldiers. If the Lytherians thought for
one second that they would outwit
them, they were about to learn very
differently.
***
Malcolm was the first to mount his
horse as they cleared the forest and
came along the secret path to the
West. The kingdom of Mitherie was a
good five days’ ride from Lytheria but
once they cleared the city, they could
be sure to get there. The Lytherian
countryside was fiercely loyal to the
St. Ives and they would spend nights
at different manor houses and castles
until they reached Mitherie. Malcolm
was for the most part glad that the
princesses were riding out, but as
usual, he was upset that Jaisyn’s
stubbornness had once more kept her
from seeing clearly.
When he’d entered her chambers
three nights back, after knocking for
long minutes, and found her missing,
Malcolm had instinctively known
Jaisyn had gone to the Morden camp.
If not for his frantic search and the
subsequent rescue, she would have
probably been killed, or worse. When
he’d confronted her about the large
tear at the top of her dress, she’d
become defensive and he’d dropped
the topic, still seething in rage as he
thought of what could have caused
that tear. And when he’d put forth the
proposal to remove the princesses
from Lytheria before Vulcan’s army
figured out the secret entrance, she’d
agreed, stating that her sisters should
go but she would remain.
Malcolm, although seriously feeling
the need to knock her senseless and
tie her to a horse, bowed to her will
and told her that he would find loyal
men to convey her sisters to Mitherie.
It was then she told him that she
wanted him to escort her sisters. He’d
refused vehemently, only to have her
question his loyalty to her, something
she did only when she wasn’t getting
her way. They had argued for some
minutes, alone as they were in her
father’s library, before her control had
slipped and tears had pooled in her
bright eyes. Just like that, he’d lost the
battle.
And so here he was, escorting two
princesses to Mitherie while the one
person he really wanted out of that
castle had remained to fight. That
thought alone sent a frightening bout
of rage through his body. He had half
a mind to return and send the
remaining soldiers onward with the
princesses, but he’d given his word.
With a sigh, Malcolm turned to make
sure that everyone was atop a horse
before he gave instructions. They
were going to ride through the night,
until they reached Gisbon, another
Lytherian city, where they’d change
horses at Gibson Castle and continue
on.
He’d barely gotten those instructions
out before one of the soldiers to the
rear cried out. Malcolm spun his horse
around to face the man who was using
his sword to point at something behind
him. His gaze followed the sword and
his eyes widened beneath the helmet.
A stream of curses erupted from his
lips moments before began to shout.
“Protect the princesses at all times!
We’re going to try to outrun them!”
With that, he turned to the
princesses. “Go! Go now!”
Isolde
and
Mathilda,
excellent
horsewomen that they were, both
flattened themselves against their
mares’ backs and kicked them into
gallops.
Malcolm and the other two soldiers
followed directly behind them. The
horses had been running for about ten
minutes before Malcolm recognized
that the Morden soldiers were steadily
gaining on them. He yelled rapid
instructions to the soldiers beside him
and urged the princesses on.
As one, the soldiers pulled their
horses to a halt and turned to face the
oncoming soldiers. Malcolm counted
five Morden soldiers. While it wasn’t
an ideal match-up, five against three
didn’t present terrible odds.
“We’re going to meet them,” he said
hastily, pulling his broadsword from
its scabbard. The two Lytherian
soldiers beside him did the same. “For
Lytheria!”
***
Vulcan could find his brother
nowhere. He’d come back from hours
of hunting with his soldiers and had
wanted an update. He knew Varian
had been in the forest for almost half
of the day, but the soldiers he’d sent
in search of him had returned with
news that he was no longer there.
Two days had passed and Varian’s
plan was not bearing any fruit. While
chasing a wild boar, Vulcan had
decided that another plan should be
drawn up. If they couldn’t find the
secret entrance, there had to be some
other way to make the Lytherians
would lower the drawbridge for them.
They just had to find it, and that was
why he was searching for Varian. His
brother would think of something.
“My liege!” someone shouted.
Vulcan turned in the direction of the
voice. A young boy, a squire, was
running toward him, out of breath and
red faced. “Some of the horses are
missing.”
Vulcan’s
eyes
narrowed
immediately and he demanded, “How
many?”
The squire drew in a few deep
breaths and said, “Five, liege.”
“Which horses?” Vulcan’s lips had
curled once more into the cross
between a frown and a scowl.
“I don’t know, liege, but I couldn’t
find Loki any—”
Vulcan didn’t need to hear any
more. He immediately went in search
of his generals. Loki was Varian’s
stallion, and almost as large as
Shadowfax. If he’d ridden out with
four other soldiers, someone must
have seen something.
He found General Akos sitting
before the spit, using a stone to
sharpen his sword.
“Some of the soldiers rode out
earlier today. Where did they go?”
Vulcan wasn’t one to have long
elaborate speeches. He was quick in
getting to the point and bedamned to
anyone who didn’t know how to
answer.
“No one rode out—” Akos began,
only to be dragged off of his feet as
his king clenched his fingers around
the placket of his shirt and pulled him
upward. Akos’s eyes widened for a
brief moment but fear never entered
into his gaze. Vulcan would have felt
pride at the man’s bravery had he not
been so angry.
“Where
is
my
brother?”
he
continued menacingly. Akos said
nothing, just continued to stare at
Vulcan with vacant eyes.
“Liege,” someone else was panting
and calling his name. He let go of
Akos and turned to the person. It was
one of his lieutenants. “Lord Varian
and four soldiers rode from camp
about an hour ago.”
“Where?”
Vulcan
continued,
heading in the direction of his stallion.
Shadowfax was no doubt weary from
the hunting excursion but at least he’d
been fed.
“The prince said he was going after
the princesses,” the lieutenant told
him, running to keep up with his long
strides.
Vulcan stopped completely, and the
entourage that followed so closely
behind him bumped into each other to
avoid bumping the already enraged
king.
“
By Rika’s balls
, what does that
mean?”
The
lieutenant
almost
winced,
especially as Rika was one of the gods
of Morden. Vulcan did not use Rika’s
name unless he was angry beyond
reason.
“Lord Varian was in a hurry, liege,”
the lieutenant told him, bracing
himself for a backlash for not knowing
what it meant. “He did not say.”
A muscle in Vulcan’s jaw ticked
visibly and in an attempt to calm
himself, he asked, “Which direction?”
“They headed into the forest, liege.
West,” the lieutenant told him
immediately, and began to run next to
Vulcan once more when he continued
with his stride toward his horse.
A squire was brushing Shadowfax
down when Vulcan walked over. He
immediately backed away after seeing
the look on his king’s face. As soon as
Vulcan was atop his horse, some of
his warriors found their horses as
well, blindly following their king.
Torches were immediately given to
them.
Vulcan began to slowly maneuver
Shadowfax through the tents and to
the forest. He turned to see how many
followed him. Too many.
“Only five,” he said to the general
closest to him. “The rest stand guard.”
With that, he moved Shadowfax into
the dark forest, hoping the light of the
torches would be enough to guide
them through its thick maze.
***
Varian sat atop Loki with a
squirming bundle before him as he