The city gates consisted of foot-thick oak timbers held together with iron bands. The walls loomed fifty feet above them. Twenty feet thick and constructed of granite blocks fused together with soul force, the wall was almost a solid piece of rock. Beyond the gate the citizens had shoveled the cobblestone streets clear of snow, making traveling easy.

Hundreds of people walked in both directions up and down King’s Way, the central road from the gate to the castle, on their way to one of the many shops and taverns lining the street. Noon fast approached, so this was probably the lunch rush. Many people waved at the stoic guardsmen, hoping for a reaction.

Damien remembered doing the same thing when he was little and visiting the capital with Dad and Jen the first time. They never flinched despite his youthful efforts.

He sighed. It had been too long since they visited the castle together. Did the cook still make the honey butter biscuits he and Jen used to steal as kids? He hoped so and if she did he planned to steal some more.

“You look nostalgic.”

He glanced at his sister who wore a smile that no doubt matched his. “How long has it been, six years?”

“About that. Do you think Princess Karrie will be happy to see you?”

Damien’s smile soured. Princess Karrie was Uncle Andy’s daughter, heir to the throne, and a year younger than Damien. On his last visit she’d developed a crush on him and followed him and John everywhere. She even proclaimed to anyone that would listen that she intended to marry him. He’d had no use for girls at the time and now he only had eyes for Lizzy. He really hoped she’d grown out of it. “Not too happy I hope.”

Jen laughed. She’d always gotten a kick out of the little princess chasing him around. Funny, she didn’t seem to find John chasing her around nearly so amusing. Not wanting to ruin the warm fuzzy feeling he was enjoying Damien kept that observation to himself.

Fifteen minutes brought them to the inner gates. A second, thirty-foot wall surrounded the residential district and served as a second line of defense if the outer wall should fall. As far as Damien knew that had never happened.

King’s Way continued on through the neat rows of cedar-shingled multifamily houses. The further they went the nicer the buildings. In the distance the imposing gray stone castle loomed. A third wall, this one twenty feet tall, surrounded the castle just inside the dry moat. A single drawbridge allowed access to the castle.

With their escort of royal guards no one challenged them as they rode across the heavy planks of the drawbridge. Damien glanced up at the spiked bottom of the raised portcullis. How big a force would it take to penetrate this far into the city?

A bigger danger would be sorcerers flying in over the walls. Of course anyone attempting to fly into the castle would have to deal with the archmage and her Crimson Legion.

Inside the wall was an empty courtyard. Long, low barracks sat along the walls and housed the royal guards. Now that they were inside their escorts peeled off and rode towards the barracks. Perhaps they’d get the rest of the day off.

Four boys rushed out of the keep to collect their horses.

When they’d dismounted and the stable boys had led the animals away Damien asked, “What now?”

In answer to his question an old man with a knobby staff wearing long blue robes hobbled out of the keep. A wispy white beard grew from his chin and he wore a golden key around his neck.

Damien grinned. Dale Alan, the castle seneschal, looked exactly as he remembered from all those years ago.

“Dale!” Damien waved.

The old man smiled. “Master Damien, it’s been far too long. And Jennifer as well. Wonderful to see you both. The king is expecting you.”

Dale led them into the keep, his staff tapping along on the stone floor. Inside, a long hall lined with suits of armor led to a set of double doors that opened into the throne room. Halfway down, a door on either side led to the rest of the castle. A pair of royal guards, their halberds resting on the floor, stood beside the doors.

They looked more like doormen than guards. As if reading Damien’s mind the two men pulled the doors open as they approached.

The throne room wasn’t as big as you might have expected, reflecting the fact that when they’d built the castle defense came before pomp. A red carpet ran down the center of the room between rows of empty, hard wooden benches that sat facing the raised throne where Uncle Andy sat beside another pair of guards.

Those two carried well-worn long swords and judging from their soul force were powerful warlords. Not that Uncle Andy was any slouch. His soul force almost matched his guards and he was still strong and fit, his dark hair streaked with gray. He wore a simple gold circlet, blue-and-silver tunic, black pants, and a purple robe trimmed with fox fur. When they reached the end of the carpet everyone took a knee.

“No need to stand on protocol in private, please rise.”

Damien got up and found Uncle Andy on his feet and walking down the two steps from the throne. He shook hands with Jen and her team. “I understand you did good work finding the dragon and its army and warning General Kord of its approach. Well done.”

They all bowed their heads and murmured words of thanks. Besides Jen none of them had met the king before and they seemed uncertain what to say. Uncle Andy realized it as well. “I’m sure you’re tired from your journey. Perhaps you’d like to rest in the barracks.”

“I’ll join you later,” Jen said.

The guys bowed and fled like men who’d just received a reprieve from the gallows. When they’d gone and the doors closed behind them Uncle Andy laughed. “Am I so intimidating?”

Damien grinned and shook his hand. “They just don’t know you like we do. Can we skip the award ceremony and just have the feast?”

“Same Damien, always thinking with his stomach. Unfortunately, we have to have the ceremony. General Kord put you up for the Medal of Valor and after reading his report I believe you deserve it. Don’t worry, it won’t take that long. Karrie’s around here somewhere. I believe she mentioned wanting a dance at the feast.”

Damien managed not to grimace.