The Warrior Prince (The Tragedy of King Viktor Book 2)

by J. D. Morrison

Erwin began counting to ten in his head. He made up his mind that once he arrived at eight he would cast the spell. He thought of Abellia and her beautiful face. Her eyes were sharp, even in his memory, and he could still smell her hair. He thought about how much he wished to protect her and how much she had meant to him. “Erwin,” he heard Viktor whisper. His vision of Abellia went away and he could see the prince’s face there instead. He had counted to five and was preparing to cast the spell with Abellia in mind, but he realized that he wanted to protect the boy just as badly. He remembered that night he saved Viktor from Alexander’s sword and the hope he had that one day the boy would take back the throne. He wanted that more than anything and protecting that hope was his call until he breathed his last. Eight. “Dey obstructis envelopum!” Blue energy sparked from Erwin’s fingertips and a transparent rectangle appeared in front of him just as the bowmen let loose his arrow. The barrier deflected the arrow, breaking it in half, sending the tip flying across the courtyard.

  Every mouth was agape. Erwin had discovered how to cast spells without possessing an artifact, something no one had been able to do for generations.

  “He’s done it,” Marianna cried out.

  “I knew he would. Old bastards like him are relentless when it comes to proving others wrong,” Josiah joked.

  Erwin lowered his hands, letting go of the barrier he had created. He turned and nearly fell to the ground before Viktor caught him. “It was so simple in the end,” Erwin said with a smile. “It was all there in the scrolls.”

  “This changes everything,” Viktor replied, heart racing.

  “That’s what I said,” Erwin laughed.

  Ten

  ∞

  Dover walked up and down the stables until he found a horse that was near death. He pulled his sword and inserted it into the horse’s neck and backed away. He watched it struggle for a moment before collapsing and dying. A horseman appeared to his right and had a puzzled look on his face. “King said he needed to eat meat tonight,” Dover said without looking up at him. “So, here we are.”

  Dover sat across from Alexander later that evening and watched him eat slices of meat cut from the horse he killed. He couldn’t help but resent the king for how the march to Fort Asbury was going.

  “Your majesty,” Dover started, “this past month has been rigorous on so many of us. I can’t imagine how you’re dealing with the stress of it all, not to mention the concern you must have about what goes on at King’s Square when you’re away.”

  “The crown is indeed heavy, Dover,” Alexander said, chewing on horse meat.

  That wasn’t the response Dover wanted. “The Warden of the North, Lord Hurold is his name, yes? Is he to be trusted to supervise the inner workings of your court? Has he proven himself capable in some way to be assigned such a monumental task?”

  “Dover, why are you so concerned about King’s Square? We’re a fortnite out from one of the most important battles in our nation’s history,” Alexander replied, putting his fork down and giving Dover his full attention. “It’s as if you don’t want me here.”

  “I don’t mean to give you that impression, your majesty. I’m just concerned for your safety and the safety of those at King’s Square.”

  “There it is,” Alexander said with a smile. He looked around the table at the other generals who were confused about what he just realized. “You think I’m a poor soldier. That I can’t defend myself in battle. Am I right?”

  “Your majesty,” Benvero started, “he is simply…”

  “No, I want to hear it from him,” Alexander interrupted. “Say what you’re meaning to say instead of this roundabout handmaiden approach you’ve chosen.”

  “I have offended you, milord. I apologize. Forget I said anything,” Dover replied, realizing he may have accidentally crossed a line.

  “Look who’s a poor soldier now, retreating from conversation. You’ve already pulled your sword, Dover. Might as well fight me to the death. Say the truth or be executed at dawn,” Alexander said in an aggressive tone.

  Dover knew he had crossed a point of no return and that he could potentially be executed either way, either for speaking his mind or hiding his feelings. “The men don’t respect you, milord. Those that have stayed are only here out of fear. They don’t care about you or the throne. They care about their families and their livelihoods, things they know you care nothing about. This past month has shown that you are not a military leader. You should’ve stayed in King’s Square, far from battle and my men.”

  “Your men? Did everyone hear that? Dover believes the men outside follow him instead of the king they’ve sworn loyalty to,” Alexander said. “Lord Dover, let me enlighten you about a few things. They care about what I tell them to care about. They fight for what I tell them to fight for. They would follow me into the depths of hell to fight Aganra if I ordered it. You know why? Because I’m their bloody king! You are not their king. You are but small and insignificant in the grand scheme of it all and it wouldn’t make any difference to the upcoming trajectory of events if I were to cut your throat right here and now.”

  “Am I to be executed then? Or banished?” Dover replied, eyes cast downward.

  “You’d rather enjoy that wouldn’t you? To be a martyr? No, Dover, I don’t think that will do. We’re already going to make one martyr this month and the public wouldn’t be able to handle a second,” Alexander said, picking his fork back up and stabbing at a slice of horse.

  “Where do we go from here, then, your majesty?” Dover asked softly.

  “Onward as planned,” the king replied, chewing. “And I hope to see your bravery on the battlefield when the time comes.”

  ∞

  Alexander disguised himself as a soldier, leather tunic and britches underneath a mail chestguard and a used pair of iron leggings. He wandered the camp hoping to overhear his men speak of him in celebratory tones. He wore a helmet made of iron to hide his face so he could move in closely to groups of soldiers that stood around fires.

  He found a group of three soldiers sitting on longs around a fire. He stood off a few feet to eavesdrop.

  “I hear his soldiers eat meat three times a week,” one soldier said to another.

  “How can that be true when they’ve burned everything around them for miles?” another soldier asked.

  “Don’t know if it’s true. That’s why I said I heard it,” the first soldier replied.

  “What are we fightin’ them for anyway?” the second soldier asked. “Why not just let ‘em have the south. It’s just farmland anyhow.”

  “Alexander can’t just let anyone raise an army and call themselves king, can he? We’d wouldn’t be a nation at all if that were the case.”

  “You’re right,” a third soldier joined in. “The island should be ruled by one king only to prevent this sort of thing on a regular basis.”

  “Why do we have sacrifice our lives to keep it a one king island, though? Seems foolish,” the second soldier said.

  “I don’t like it either, but it must be done to prevent years and years of this. Each rebellion we stop slows the next one,” the first soldier replied.

  “I used to think it an honorable thing to be in the Royal Guard, but not under this king,” the second soldier revealed.

  “Keep your voice down, fool,” the third soldier said in a hushed tone.

  “I’m sorry, but do you find your service honorable anymore? I mean, what is it that we’re really doin’ here other than keepin’ a usurper on the throne?” the second soldier said, this time in a whisper. “And we’re doin’ more murderin’ than fightin’. It doesn’t sit well with me that we’re killin’ so many women and children just because they refuse to kneel.”

  “And if this prince defeats us in battle and becomes king? Will he not just be another usurper?” the third soldier asked.

  “Not if he’s Padhurst’s son,” the second soldier said. “The throne should be his. It’s in his blood. And he’s just a boy. I d
on’t see him orderin’ us to kill the innocent.”

  “Make sure Dover doesn’t hear that talk or it’ll be your head,” the first soldier said.

  “If you’re not for the king, then you’re against him, right?” the third soldier added.

  “It’s not that simple and you know it. The king should represent all of us and I don’t think he does. I think that’s why so many are risin’ up,” the second soldier said.

  That was all Alexander needed to hear. He walked away from the soldiers and back toward his tent. He stopped a soldier who was passing by and asked him to name the three soldiers taking part in the conversation behind him. He paid close attention to the name of the soldier who seemed to be most disgruntled with his situation. Haffar, was his name.

  Eleven

  ∞

  Gates pulled up a chair next to Yaspar’s cot. He sat and watched him sleep for about ten minutes before nudging him awake. He knew Yaspar could speak and he was ready to get to the bottom of who he was and why he was fighting a grizzly in the forest.

  “You’ve been asleep for two days,” Gates said. “It’s time to wake and face what may come.”

  “What comes my way is darkness and the black,” Yaspar replied softly.

  “Your family was in Demiscus?”

  Yaspar looked away.

  “So, why were you so far south? Why were you in the forest that day?” Gates asked.

  Yaspar closed his eyes and thought of his younger daughter. She was so beautiful, like her mother. Her smile was crooked and adorable. Her name was Renn and her birth was what motivated him to leave the Shroud. He wanted nothing more than to see her, her sister, and his wife again. He dreamt of various ways of killing himself these past two days and realized that Gates could do it for him if he revealed why he was coming to Fort Asbury. All he had to say was that he was sent to kill Viktor and they would surely execute him.

  “I came to kill your prince,” he said, turning to face Gates. “I’m an assassin by trade and the king personally hired me to kill the boy.”

  “You were tattooed by the Shroud then? And the bear ripped off that part of your flesh?”

  Yaspar held his arm up to look at the bandage that covered where his tattoo once was. “Yes, exactly. My name is Yaspar. You’ve no doubt heard of me.”

  “Can’t say that I have,” Gates shrugged.

  “I’m only one of the most famous assassins of the north,” Yaspar replied, somewhat offended.

  Gates shrugged and looked away.

  “It was I who killed Mal’juko, the high elf raider. The elf who burned The Padhurst at Port Royal and stole thousands of gold coins from the eastern bank. Surely you know who that is?”

  “Were you hired or forced to come here? I have it on good authority that three assassins were blackmailed into coming to Asbury,” Gates said, ignoring Yaspar’s legendary kill.

  “How would you know that unless you are a familiar with an agent of the Shroud?”

  “Perhaps I am,” Gates replied.

  “I see that he’s finally awake,” Viktor’s voice sounded from the opening of the tent. His presence was always heavy with the soldiers. He was still a boy in age, but they saw past that at the man and king he would become. Every soldier in their bed sat up as he entered the room and joined Gates at Yaspar’s bedside. “I hear that your voice has returned as well. Is that right?”

  Yaspar nodded yes.

  “Well, then, let’s hear it. What is your real name and where are you from?” Viktor said with a smile.

  “I am called Yaspar and I am from all over.”

  “All over and Demiscus, right? You gave these men quite the scare the other night,” Viktor replied.

  Yaspar nodded yes again.

  “He was just telling me that he was hired to kill you, milord,” Gates added.

  Yaspar sat up straight in his cot, half hoping Viktor would execute him on the spot.

  “Hired to kill me, huh? How much?” Viktor said with a smile.

  “Pardon?” Yaspar asked, confused.

  “How much would you make if you were to kill me? I’m curious. Surely Alexander would pay you handsomely.”

  Yaspar struggled to make up and communicate a number.

  “That’s what I thought,” Viktor said. “He wasn’t going to pay you anything. He was simply going to let you or your family live, right?”

  Yaspar didn’t know how to respond.

  “Josiah, bring those other two in here,” Viktor shouted back toward the opening of the tent. “You see, he hired two others just like you in the same way. He threatened to kill their families if they didn’t kill me.”

  Josiah entered with two other men that were dressed in leather shirts and britches. Yaspar was surprised to see that neither of the men were cuffed with rope.

  “And that’s exactly what he did, too. He killed Nuhar’s family two days after he left King’s Square and Klorit’s family a week later. He never intended to keep them alive just like he never intended to keep your family alive. He’s a cruel man who does whatever he wants with no regard to others. Is that the sort of king we deserve?”

  “Yaspar, we know each other,” Nuhar said. “I joined the Shroud three months after you.” He showed Yaspar his tattoo.

  “We’ve never met, but I’ve heard of your exploits,” Klorit added, also showing his tattoo.

  “Yaspar, I believe in second chances. Do you?” Viktor asked. “What’s happened to your family and all of those in Demiscus is tragic, but we have to unify to stop this tyrant. I know you are still far from being fully healed, but when that time comes, will you fight alongside us to save this island?”

  “If I don’t have my family I don’t have anything,” Yaspar said, tearing up.

  “I know it feels that way now, but you’re surrounded by men that have lost everything as well. That’s why we’re fighting,” Viktor said. “I would guess that more than half the men in this room have lost a parent, wife, or child in the last three years because of Alexander’s edicts and policies.”

  Several men shouted in agreement.

  “You have a chance to start over and we would be honored to have you. Think about it,” Viktor said, patting Yaspar’s leg before turning to walk out with Josiah and the others.

  “Wait,” Yaspar said in as loud a voice as he could, “what I don’t choose to stay? Will I be executed?

  Viktor turned and smiled. “We don’t do that here. We’ll let you have the clothes you’re in and give you enough food to last a week and send you on your way.” He left the tent along with Josiah and the other two assassins.

  “How can he show so much mercy to an enemy?” Yaspar asked Gates.

  “Like I told you before, he’s wise beyond his years,” Gates said.

  Twelve

  ∞

  “I’m not sure it can be taught, but I’m certain it can be learned,” Erwin said.

  Viktor, Josiah, Kelond, and Marianna joined him in the forest. Gideonis refused to come as he regarded both light and dark magic as sinister. He didn’t feel comfortable with the direction Viktor was taking his council in regard to magic, but he kept his concerns to himself.

  “What is there to teach other than what’s on the page?” Josiah asked. “We simply recite the spells and the magic comes, yes?”

  “My boy,” Erwin said with a smile, “if it were that easy we’d all be mages by now. It seems as though many of us possess an ancient trait or inclination to be conjurers. I don’t believe each of you will be able to cast spells no matter how much effort you put in.”

  “Then why are we ‘ere?” barked Kelond.

  “Kelond, this sort of protective magic will turn the course of any battle we find ourselves in,” Viktor replied.

  “Let’s get on with it then,” Kelond griped.

  “Everyone, close your eyes and hold your palms out like this,” Erwin said, holding his arms out straight with his palms facing forward.

  Marianna and Viktor exchanged looks and s
miles before closing their eyes and following Erwin’s instructions. Josiah saw the exchange and sighed before closing his eyes.

  “Now, think of someone or something you want to protect. Something that, if lost, would devastate you,” Erwin said calmly.

  Kelond squinted hard, struggling to think of anything at first. He thought of his mother and the tragic death that befell her before he left for Tresladore. “Now what?”

  “Patience, Kelond,” Erwin replied. “Give the others time to think.”

  Josiah thought about his mother as well. Her round face and blue eyes. Her long black hair. She was the light of his life even though he’d never admit it to anyone.

  Marianna thought of her father at first. She loved and felt sorry for him. She thought of the last thing he said to her, but when she heard it he sounded like Viktor. After a few seconds Viktor’s face appeared, sending warmth down her body. She smiled as she realized he was the most important person in the world to her now.

  Viktor thought of everyone; Marianna, Josiah, Kelond, Gideonis, and even the dying Erwin. He wanted to protect all of them. He didn’t want to admit that his thoughts were so scattered for fear that he was doing something wrong.

  “Has everyone chosen their someone or something?” Erwin asked. He watched as they shook their heads yes. “Now, repeat after me. Dey obstructis envelopum.”

  Each of them repeated the spell, but only Marianna felt a flash of energy in her fingers, causing her to open her arms and breathe heavily. “What was that? I felt it,” she exclaimed, looking over at Viktor and then at Erwin.

  “Anyone else? Did anyone else feel a wave of heat come over their hands and arms?” Erwin asked.

  The others shook their heads no and Kelond griped aloud, “Makes sense a ladyfolk would learn it first.”

  “Okay, let’s let Marianna practice. Everyone else stand back,” Erwin instructed. “Close your eyes and let’s do it again.”

  Marianna looked at Viktor and then closed her eyes. She held out her hands and took a deep breath.

  “Repeat after me, only this time with the belief that something will happen,” Erwin said. “Dey obstructis envelopum.”