CHAPTER ONE

*~~~**~~~*

Alaric

*~~~**~~~*

10th of Decepter, 935 PC

The village of Coyne was welcoming winter with a sacrifice. Alaric and his men could hear the laughter and cheers from their place in nearby Howler’s Wood. Foolish commoners and their rituals. No matter. As long as we leave here with the boy all is well. I'll never have to return to this pitiful place. He adjusted himself on the fallen log, numbness was developing in his arse. From the corner of his eye, he noticed that the dirt under his fingernails had gotten to a point he could no longer ignore. No better time than now I suppose. He unsheathed his knife and scraped the dirt carefully.

As he often did, he contemplated how he had gotten to such a low point in his life. Not all that long ago he sat in one of the nine seats of the High Chamber. But the Crimson Nine frowned upon paranoia that leads to poor judgment as they had put it. Poor judgment. Laughable. I warned them. Told them she was gaining momentum, coming for us. And for what? To be thrown away like waste. If she had not already gotten to them, I would have fed them to her myself. Maybe I should have told them what she did to me. They couldn’t have ignored that. He considered telling them, but the embarrassment of being outsmarted by a commoner weighed too heavy on his ego. Oh well. I suppose I got the last laugh, didn’t I? He may have outlasted those who turned their back on him, but the task of outlasting The Lotus Queen, somehow defeating her growing army, was becoming more insurmountable each day. Then, he got wind of Maddy Hallstone. And suddenly, the odds grew substantially.

A chorus of sounds filled the forest around them; the babbling brook nearby, the heavy breaths and restless footsteps of their horses, the rustling leaves sweeping across the cold earth. Part of him wondered if any of the sounds were his assassin, Shade M’Loe, watching the surrounding forests for any signs of an ambush. He knew better though. Like all assassins, Shade was not one to be seen or heard when he was working. One sound in particular made him look up from his hygienic work. Therrin White, his healer, was chewing his cheese and crackers so obnoxiously Alaric thought he may knock the crackers from his lap and smack him. Relax. It’s been a long journey. You’re just on edge. Therrin smiled at him and offered some of his snack, still chewing like an imbecile. Alaric dismissed the gesture with a shake of his head and an annoyed look on his face. Therrin shrugged and sliced another thin piece of cheese with his dagger.

The healer was young, twenty years to his name if Alaric remembered correctly. Is that right? I think so. I suppose things like age get lost in the shuffle when you’re fighting to survive a purge. Therrin’s black hair reminded him of what his own used to look like before age and stress brought the first glimmers of silver. In fact, Therrin reminded him of himself in many ways. Both men were clean cut, sat with perfect posture, and spoke as if educated, not with the laziness that most of his soldiers did. Alaric knew such habits were instilled in a man that came from wealth. Something Alaric appreciated about the young man. There were others in his ranks that were more informed on the cause, more skilled with a blade, and most certainly wiser, but Therrin was the one he was grooming to take his place if the unthinkable were to happen. It was Therrin that possessed the innate characteristics of a leader. Despite his poor eating habits.

He adjusted himself again. His back was stiff from riding Hans through the difficult terrain of Serelle. If they were in the eastern half of the realm, on the far side of the Eastern Wall, there would have been luxurious inns with comfortable beds, carriages being pulled down cobblestone streets, pubs and gambling halls with beautiful women and delicious ale, but as it was they were in the western half of Serelle. The mostly uninhabited half with hills and forests nearly everywhere. I’ll be all for the better when we’re back in Thronerock. The beds aren’t comfortable but it’s better than sitting in a saddle or sleeping on the ground all night. Oh, what I wouldn’t do for a good night’s rest. His cold breath escaped into the air as he sighed.

Diedro Pyvere looked about as bored and miserable as Alaric. The slender, bald man was sitting against a tree, his legs stretched long, ankles crossed. An unlit pipe hung loosely in his mouth. His dagger spun as he tossed it in the air gently, catching it skillfully with his fingers on either side of the blade. Just looks like a killer. It made sense. Diedro had spent most of his adult life as a mercenary. He was masterful with his sword which was made even deadlier by his magic. There were many kinds of Physicalists, one of the deadlier forms of Purists. Diedro happened to have enhanced hand-eye coordination. Breaking through the man’s defensive skills with a sword, or anything for that matter, was nearly impossible. The hardened look on his face told most of his story without the man opening his mouth but Alaric couldn’t help but feel as though Diedro was hiding something. There’s more beneath the surface. There always is with guys like him. Just hope it isn’t something he will use against me.

As much as it unnerved him to think a man as deadly as Diedro may be hiding something, he was in no position to be restrictive with who he allowed into his army. The Lotus Queen’s forces were growing daily. Purists were being torn from their homes, slaughtered for their magic.

He rubbed his chest absently as he stared at Diedro. The long, puffy seam that ran down its middle could not be felt through his leather armor, but he knew it was there. You will stop her. You will have your revenge. He went back to cleaning his nails.

“I tell ya, the smell of that pig reminds me of The Black Boar Inn.” said Therrin. He stuffed a cracker into his mouth.

Alaric didn’t bother looking up. “Aye, it does. My guess is that Elgar stopped by the fire pit to grab some. He’s like you, Therrin. Can’t get enough food.” That reminds me. Alaric clawed at the pieces of hard candy in his breast pocket, unwrapped one, and tossed the wax paper wrapper on the ground. It was quickly swept away with the blowing leaves. The cinnamon flavor sent a bite through his taste buds immediately. Always deliciously spicy.

Therrin shrugged and cut a slice of the cheese for his cracker. He was still chewing when he spoke to Diedro across the small campsite. “How’d you get mixed up with the Hounds of Haldar?” he asked. Alaric tensed despite how polite Therrin had sounded. He had told the healer that Diedro did not like talking about his time with the infamous mercenary group. Who would? The group was known for their willingness to take on any commission and the brutality by which they accomplished them. Sneaking Diedro out of the group and onboard with his own mission wasn’t simple. It had taken every trick Alaric could think of to outwit the Hounds. You’ll be seeing them again. Diedro knew that as well. It was something the two men had discussed regularly during their travels.

Diedro shrugged and grumbled. “Kind of just felt it in my soul, I guess.”

Alaric smirked, he appreciated the man’s wit.

Therrin nodded. “I can understand that. Truth be told, I have little to no interest in medicine, but my magic tugs at my heartstrings when I see someone injured. Damn near have to help them. Makes me feel like I’m going to run dry.”

Diedro wiped his mustache and nodded.

“We don’t want that,” said Alaric.

“Did the Hounds have healers?” Therrin asked.

“Therrin,” said Alaric. His glare told the young man to change the topic.

“Ah. Alright,” said Therrin. He began packing up his snack and putting it in his backpack.

To Alaric’s surprise, Diedro helped ease the tension. “The boy you was always with… back at the inn. The puny runt... He your brother?”

“Aye. He’s my twin,” said Therrin as he raised a finger to stop Diedro from continuing. “I know. We don’t look anything alike.” Diedro’s grin nearly sent a chill down Alaric’s spine.

“Get that a lot?” asked Diedro.

“More than you could imagine.”

“Seems like twins oughta look alike,” said Diedro. He winked at Alaric.

“You’d think so, right,” said Therrin with a grin. “Our servants used to try for hours to find ways to make Corbin look…” He thought for a moment. “Better… Never could though.”

Alaric slid his knife into its sheath and examined his fingernails in the sunlight. Much better.

“That’s ‘cause you went and took all the good looks. Left the poor lad with all the ugly.” The healer shared a laugh with Diedro. Therrin’s remarkably good natured. I need to change that. Before he ends up trusting someone he shouldn’t. Alaric glanced at Diedro. Like a former mercenary that could slit his throat and not lose an ounce of sleep over it. No. Stop. I mustn’t think like that. He’s here to help. Iris’ army is coming after him too. Besides, I’m not exactly an angel myself.

A twig snapped on the raised earth above them. Diedro was on his feet instantly, dagger at the ready, pipe locked tight between his teeth. Alaric stiffened, nervous the man may kill instinctively. Tensions melted quickly though when it was Alaric’s brother, Elgar, looking at them with his typical scowl. Jameson Wicket, a suave looking charmer with tan skin and wavy black hair appeared next, he was guiding a woman along beside him. A young boy clung tight to her hand. Alaric couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him. There he is. Revenge is at your fingertips now.

Wicket slid halfway down the embankment to a tree he could hold onto, then helped the woman get down safely. The boy sat on his arse and slid to the bottom. The dead leaves crunched as they clumped into a mass beneath his feet and legs. Elgar remained at the top of the small elevation, pulling a cigar from his shirt pocket. When he noticed Alaric glaring at him he yelled down.

“What? It was a gift,” he said.

“Is that why it took you so long?” Therrin asked. “Messing around with the villagers…”

“Ay! Sneaking a kid out from under his own pa’s nose ain’t that easy. Is it Wick?”

The charmer ignored him, his eyes never leaving Mrs. Hallstone as he pointed toward Alaric. She stared at Alaric. Someone who was unaware of Wicket’s magic would have missed the icy glaze over her eyes, but he could see it perfectly. She was a lovely woman, athletic and fit for her age but dressed like a woman that seldom left the house. A shame she’s not a Purist. I’d bring her under my wing.

“Hello, Mrs. Hallstone,” said Alaric. Wicket slid in tight behind her, close enough for his magic to continue influencing her.

“Hello.” Her voice was stronger than he expected. Had it not been for Wicket’s magic she would have likely been causing all kinds of issues for them.

He placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “I can’t thank you enough for what you’re doing.”

Mrs. Hallstone looked at the ground, hiding the tears that were swelling in her eyes. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” No. No you don’t. Have to make this believable for the boy though. “If my son’s the key to stopping the Lotus Queen, he’s all yours.”

“Well, it’s quite admirable. Most people would have run from such a task.” He knew he wasn’t talking to the real Gladys Hallstone but putting on a good show for the boy was pivotal. It was important that Maddy leave with them in good spirits with the belief that his mother had given him her blessing.

She placed her hand on the boy’s head. His hands were buried in his pockets as he glanced up at her innocently. “He wants to do it. Says he wants to be a hero.” She looked at Alaric. Tears streamed down her cheeks. A nice touch, Wicket. “Please. He only has eleven years to his name. Please look after him.” Alaric hesitated. For a moment he considered leaving the boy with his mother. Would I trust any of these men with my own child? Not a chance in the three hells. I couldn’t even keep my own child safe. He almost scoffed at himself but held it in.

Therrin approached and placed his hand on the woman’s shoulder. “I’ll take real good care of him, Mrs. Hallstone. I have a brother I’ve been taking care of since my parents died.”

“A twin,” Diedro muttered. Elgar chuckled from above.

“He’s a healer too,” said Alaric. “So if anything happens to Maddy.”

“Call him Coyne,” the woman said. She made a face. “I don’t want people learning his real name.”

“Fair enough. Well, if anything happens to Coyne, Therrin will heal him up real good,” said Alaric.

Leaves crunched beneath Wicket’s feet as he shifted, clearly annoyed that he was using so much of his magic. He blew warmth into his cold hands. His wavy black hair reached the top of his shoulders. The short stubble on his cheeks and chin showed just the right amount of gray and his blue eyes were enchanting. Mrs. Hallstone turned to him and smiled through her sadness. How many times have you seen people smile at him like that?

“I reckon, your son is gonna be more than a hero,” Wicket said and smiled at the boy. Coyne pulled his hands from his pockets and wrapped them around the straps of his backpack. Beneath his fear and sadness was pride and courage. Alaric liked his spirit.

“It may take time before he speaks,” said Mrs. Hallstone. “As brave as he acts, he’s still a little scared.”

Alaric watched as Therrin crouched in front of the boy. He pushed his long bangs away from his soft blue eyes. There was dirt on his narrow nose. “Been playing this morning?” he asked with a smile. Then licked his thumb and wiped the dirt away.

Coyne nodded, wiping the spit from his nose.

“I’m going to keep you right here,” said Therrin. He gestured under his arm. “You’ll be safe there. I swear to The Creator.”

Coyne looked up at his mother who smiled down at him. He pulled one hand from his pocket and extended it. His hand disappeared inside Therrin’s.

“I told him you folks aren’t just heroes, you’re gentlemen… so if he acts up I give you permission to set him straight…” She waited for Therrin’s name.

“Therrin White,” said the healer. “And I’ll make sure Coyne here learns plenty of etiquette and chivalry. Grew up learning the ends and out of it all.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“We really must be going,” said Alaric, noticing Wicket was growing more and more anxious.

Mrs. Hallstone turned toward her son and placed her hands on his shoulders. The boy looked at her with his soft blue eyes, the sun glistened off the tears waiting to pour down his cheek.

“You do everything they tell you and only use your magic if you’re told to. Understood?” Coyne nodded his head. “I love you.” She kissed him on the forehead then hugged him. “Behave yourself and be careful. I’ll be right here when you’re done traveling the empire.” She gave the boy a smile that Alaric knew Wicket had formed for her.

When the mother and son were done embracing Therrin guided the boy toward Elgar who had put his cigar out on the tree beside him and slid down the embankment. Wicket and Alaric began their farewell to mother. Diedro approached Alaric as the others headed to the horses..

When the last glimpses of Coyne disappeared behind the trees, Alaric turned to Mrs. Hallstone. “Again, thank you so much for letting your son help us.”

“Of course. Just wish-” Her words were muffled behind Diedro’s hand. Her eyes were wide with confusion.

Wicket made an uncomfortable face at Alaric. “Do we have to? She’s so sweet.”

“Yes.”

Wicket released his enchantment on the woman. Her eyes filled fear as reality set in. She screamed into Diedro's hand and fought to escape his grip.

“I’m sorry. Truly. But we can’t have anyone knowing where your son is,” said Alaric. He nodded at the killer and walked away.