Marric’s head hung low between his shoulders as he knelt on the ground upon his hands and knees. “By the gods, Ash, you can’t possibly be this blind. He tried to keep us apart so that we would never learn his secret. He saw our bond and tried to break it. He ruined my mother’s life - left her no options. She was expelled from the Emerald Sisters because she was pregnant with me. He made it so that no one would have her.”
A silence fell between them while the rest of the camp bustled and sprung to life. “She died a whore, while I was locked in the citadel of the Clerics in the early years of my apprenticeship,” Marric said. His eyes were hard, fixed, and wet as they met Ash’s.
The smoke was beginning to clear. But, a gentle breeze blew from the east once more. It was almost unnoticeable except for the subtle shift in the remaining smoke and dust moving across the field. Marric pressed himself up to his feet. “I’m going to kill him, Ash. He’s going to pay for what he did to my mother. For what he did to me. The only good thing he ever did in his miserable life was you, my brother. But, if you try to stop me, I will do what I must do to have my revenge - to obtain justice,” Marric said angrily, his face hard and his jaw set firm.
Ash moved violently. He grabbed Marric by the hair and pulled him backwards as he brought his sword up to Marric’s exposed throat. “Do what you must, will you? Not if I open your throat here and now. That would end your lies. Surely these men would attack me, but maybe they’ll just leave once their leader is killed, especially if I promise not to send the full force of my father’s army against them in the coming weeks. Perhaps that is exactly what I’ll do…brother… liar,” Ash said, as he let the blade slip ever so gently across Marric’s throat.
Blood began to drip from Marric’s throat as the blade pressed deeper into his skin. “It would seem as though playing the fool is all too easy for you, Ash,” said a voice in the distance; a voice familiar to Ash, but not to Marric. The smoke began to disappear in a swirl of green vibrant leaves. “He’s not lying about this, Ash,” Euan said.
The camp was abuzz with confusion as Euan, a child, suddenly appeared within the clearing smoke. The leaves swirling around him beginning to settle as the smoke dissipated. There stood what appeared to be a boy of nearly eleven years, with eyes as green as the forest, a speckled infusion of every hue of green found in nature, and yet, they hinted at an age almost as old as the forests themselves. His voice thundered in a way Ash had never heard before. The sudden arrival of this boy only added to the confusion amongst the men in the camp. Euan’s eyes met with Marric’s and froze.
“Ash, even those who lie as often as they breathe tell the truth from time to time. You must learn to tell the difference lest you be made a fool once more,” Euan said as he softened his gaze and directed it towards Ash.
Marric took it all in - the boy, his eyes, the manner in which he spoke to Ash, a man of clear royal lineage. He couldn’t be the boy from the stories of the royal families, could he? thought Marric to himself.
“How is it true, Euan?” Ash asked him, unsure about the new information he had just received while surrounded by soldiers camped out on his father’s lands waiting for the order to attack. The world had been turned upside down. In the last few weeks Ash had been robbed by a woman who he saved and then spent the night with, and for whom he felt deeply connected; he had murdered a pregnant dragon, learned to use magic, taken prisoner by his long-time friend, who has now revealed himself to be his brother as he also revealed that he has been working with the Mad King Caelen to murder their father. Ash was not sure what to believe in this moment.
Euan walked toward Ash as if no one else was there “It is exactly as Marric told you. Your father had a son out of wedlock before you were born - a child whom he never claimed. He had his reasons I’m sure, but that is not for us to debate or discuss right now. He met your mother, a woman of proper station in his eyes, fell in love with her and together they conceived you. He then focused all his attention on his wife and their new son, turning his back on the product of his previous indiscretions, which led to the revelation Marric has just disclosed. He could not foresee the friendship that would grow between the two of you. He tried his hardest to severe it, lest he be found out. Marric never knew his father and the king’s presence in his early memories would never have registered unless someone or something connected the pieces for him.” Euan shifted his gaze from Ash to Marric and then began to slowly turn and look around the camp. Ash nodded as he also surveyed the camp. Everyone was still trying to determine who this wise boy was and just how he suddenly appeared, or if he did, in fact, just suddenly appear. Ash could hear the murmuring of the men in the distance, and also, heard mention of Princess Farrah. She’s here? he thought to himself as he tried to figure out his next move. He could not find Farrah until he dealt with Marric, and that situation had just become significantly more complicated.
Marric glared at Euan. “I made the connection on my own, while researching in the archives of The Order, you immortal imp. I know you,” Marric said sharply, his body still constrained by Ash and the blade at his throat.
Euan laughed at Marric. He did not even turn to face him as he did so. “You know me? … Do you? Then by all means, let loose your tongue, and speak what you think you know.”
Marric’s blood began to boil. The boy wasn’t taking him seriously. He wouldn’t even face him when he spoke. “You are Euan,” Marric said. He waited for a moment to collect his thoughts before speaking any further.
Euan clapped at his response. “Very good, Master Marric. You are every bit as bright as Ash said you were. That is correct. I am Euan. Is that all?” he asked as he moved his outstretched downward pointing finger in a circle, spinning the leaves lying upon the ground.
One by one the men about the camp began to take notice of the abject disrespect being shown toward Marric. Many began to take up their arms and face the impish boy with the dazzling green eyes. Others began to sneer and jeer at Marric quietly amongst themselves.
“Oh no, I’m not done, Euan. Or should I say Toben?” Marric said as the corners of his lips reached higher and higher. “Or do you prefer Balen? You have been influencing the royal family from its inception by King Waylen. And even he found you to be disrespectful and insulant. You self-aggrandizing imp!” Manic said as he leaned forward, forgetting momentarily about the blade at his throat. He growled in pain as it bit once again into him.
Euan turned to face Marric. His green eyes locked onto Marric. He shuddered reflexively. “I have. I’ve guided the royal family of this area for generations, but not only this royal family and not only of this area. I’ve wandered far. Very far. Over land and sea.1 I’ve seen more than you could ever dream of in your small mind, Marric. I’ve met many a fool and far fewer true kings. And, while you are not the former, and certainly not the latter, your brother has the potential to be the latter. He could be…”
Marric’s jaw tightened as a single tear ran down his cheek. “In that we agree, you strange, devious, enchanted boy,” Marric replied.
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1 Taken from the song, “Nature Boy” released March 29, 1948 by Capitol Records and first recorded by Nat King Cole. Written in 1947 by eden ahbez.
CHAPTER 11
Ash stood amongst a sea of Hylaen soldiers, his sword raised and at Marric’s throat; the man who was once his best friend, who had also enlisted the army of the Hylaen kingdom to murder his father - their father. This very same man was now agreeing with Euan, a boy who was by his calculations at least two hundred years old, and yet didn’t look a day over fifteen. A boy who had taught him to use magic and revealed to him Marric’s deceptions. They were both now speaking about him as if he wasn’t there, as if his sword was not still at Marric’s throat. They were both agreeing upon his potential to be a true king - whatever that meant. I can’t be distracted by this right now. I need to find Farrah. I need to deal with these soldiers. Then, I need to deal with Marric. Or, I need
to deal with him first, then the soldiers, Ash thought to himself.
A scream broke the tension in the air and shook him free from his thoughts. Ash knew that scream. He had heard it before. He ran towards it without a second thought. He was able to see Farrah being dragged by her hair by two Hylaen soldiers. Ash released Marric as be broke into a sprint towards Farrah and the two soldiers.
“I’ve had it with this,” Pike exclaimed as Farrah struggled in tow. “This guy is soft. He thinks the prince is a true king. Caelen is the only true king. We came here to take the kingdom of Larutte, not give it up to the prince,” Pike said as he jerked Farrah across the dirt.
“Fuck this,” said the other solider. “Princess Farrah is supposed to be long gone. I’ve never had a royal lady before.” Ash’s blade bit into the other soldier’s right shoulder, quickly finding his left hip.
“And you never will,” Ash said as he kicked the other one in the chest, sending him backward several feet. Ash swept her up into his arms.
“Hi.”
He smiled a big smile before answering in kind, “Hi. “Are you okay?” Ash asked as he set her to her feet,
She kissed him, “I am now.”
He felt a boot at his back as his head slammed into hers. “Doesn’t feel so good, does it, lover boy?” Pike said as he planted his foot back onto the ground in stride towards Ash and Farrah.
Ash pressed his palm to Farrah’s forehand. She nodded. He then turned to face the solider. “No, you’re right, it doesn’t. You know what feels worse than that?” Ash asked as he readied his sword.
Pike smiled in return, “Fighting an army, maybe?”
One by one, more and more of the Hylaen soldiers began to surround Ash and Farrah. The jangle of armor in motion and that of their weapons being drawn could be heard as clearly as his own racing heartbeat. “Farrah, put your back to mine,” Ash said as he scanned the area and eyed the soldiers beginning to surround them. She did as she was told, knowing that their best chance was to stay close to one another.
“Odin, ready your halls for us,” Farrah said just loud enough for Ash to hear.
“Let’s not go and get Odin too excited just yet,” Ash said just loud enough for Farrah to hear him. “You don’t have a weapon?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “Take my sword. I’ll be okay without it for now.” Farrah turned slightly to protest as Ash handed her his sword and sent a small burst of fire towards two of the men moving in on them.
“That’s useful,” Farrah said as she grabbed the sword from his hand.
“Where was that trick when we were making afire that night?” she asked as she lowered her body just enough to center herself against the weight of the sword in preparation for the inevitable onslaught. Ash let slip the tiniest breath of a laugh as he attempted to focus and conjure the essence of fire in both of his hands simultaneously,
“I hadn’t learned it yet. An unlikely friend taught me,” Ash said as he threw one of the fireballs towards a group of the Hylaen soldiers, tossing them back a few feet wrapped in a blanket of flames.
“I cannot open the chest,” Euan said. “But…,” began Marric as his attention shifted from Euan to the many soldiers gathering around at the other end of the camp.
“You, solider, where are you going?” Marric asked as he grabbed a passing solider by the arm.
“Sir,” replied the man reflexively, “The prince sir. He’s fighting with a squadron of men, sir, maybe more.”
Marric glared deeply into the soldier’s eyes as he asked, “On whose orders? I gave no such orders.” The solider, shifting in place, his feet wanting to join the others, while his sense of duty kept him at least somewhat at attention, and yet unsure how to respond to the man to whom he and his other brothers-at-arms were on loan,
“I… Sir… I don’t rightly think any of those men care, sir.” The solider replied jerking his head towards the action.
Marric’s eyes grew wide with anger. “Do you, solider? Do you care whether or not I gave the order? Be honest, solider.”
The solider hesitated briefly before responding. “Honestly, sir? No, I don’t.” The solider responded as he ripped his arm away from Marric’s grasp and hurried toward the fight. Marric released a ball of fire from his hand that raged and roiled before fully engulfing the solider. He fell flat to the dirt. He tried to roll the fire out, but it burned too hot and too quickly for that. All he was able to do was scream a painful scream until he was nothing more than a charred remnant of a solider.
Euan cringed at Marric’s response to the soldier’s words. “Let’s go save the foolish prince, so that he might live long enough to one day be a true king.”
“Aye,” Marric responded with a nod as he ran towards Ash alone, a gentle breeze blowing against his neck.
CHAPTER 12
Two soldiers tumbled back into the stack of crates, which crushed them as they fell. Wood splinters, food stuffs, and bottles of liquor flew into the air as the soldiers landed. The area was littered with apples, pears, and grapes, whole and smashed. There were bottles of liquor smashed upon the ground bleeding their contents into the dirt. What made things worse was the undamaged bottles now rolling along the dirt at everyone’s feet. Ash watched the men as the stumbled to get up. One had a large chunk of wood piercing his side which he removed without thinking; as he did, blood began to rush out of the gaping hole, pooling on the ground beneath him. As the other man got to his feet Ash ran at him, leading with his shoulder. They both fell back violently. The solider folded backwards as Ash slid over him, moving his hands forward, tucking his head and finally, recovering in a roll. As Ash got to his feet and turned his gaze back to Farrah, he noticed what they had fallen over. It was the hope chest. He checked it. Tried to open it. It still would not open. Well, at least it’s still secure, he thought to himself. Ash flung the chest towards Farrah. “We need to protect this.”
Farrah glanced at the box tumbling toward her, “The chest,” she said as she blocked the swinging blade of one of the soldiers - one of her people. Even before she left the kingdom, she had never really had a relationship with the people of Hylaen. Her father was distrustful of everyone, save his closest advisors, and even they had been kept on a very tight leash. To these men she was the King’s object of affection. A gift given to him by the woman he loved. But, they had no idea she even existed. To them, she had fled the castle and abandoned her people. To some, she had even attempted to murder her own father. So, it came as no surprise to her that many of these men wanted her, or, wanted to hurt her. She positioned the chest to her side as she deflected the onslaught of incoming blows and strikes. The wind blew the stench of burnt flesh in her direction. She winced and coughed. Ash joined her, positioning himself so the chest was between them both. “They just keep coming, don’t they?” he said, “Are we entirely sure Tyr isn’t on their side?”
Farrah parried the swing of another solider and then kicked out his leg, leaving him lying on his back below her. She thrust Ash’s sword deep into his belly, “Could be. Or maybe the god of war is just waiting to be impressed,” she said pulling the blade from the soldier’s body. She used her free arm to wipe blood and sweat from her brow.
Another explosion came from behind the soldiers, tossing a handful of them forward. “He’s not impressed yet?” asked Ash breathily, as he wiped the sweat from his brow. He scanned the men to see who would attack next. He was tired, but having felled a score or two of men, the remaining soldiers were less enthusiastic about running in on them.
Two soldiers glanced at each other and nodded. The one on the right attacked first, thrusting his spear at Ash. He was slow and sloppy. Ash easily avoided the strike and gripped the shaft of the spear. The man on the left attacked with a swift but over-weighted downward swing. Ash dropped back, shifted his hip and pulled the spearman into the path of the swordsman’s blow. It hit home in the spearman’s shoulder and found rest in the center of his chest. Blood sprayed. The swordsman’s face was painted ruby and i
t shone like mask of death in the dying rays of the sun. His eyes grew wide. Ash ripped the spear from the dying soldier’s hand and thrust it into the swordsman’s stomach. He released his grip to remove the sword from the spearman’s body and used it to sever the swordsman’s head. “I like the weight of this,” Ash said, as he turned to Farrah and wiped the newly formed sweat from his brow. “I think I’ll keep it,” he said smiling. Ash felt a gentle wind blow from the east and amongst the clang and clatter of steel on steel he could hear the soft rustle of leaves. “Euan?” Ash asked.
“Aye.” Ash tuned to see Euan standing atop the chest.
“Good to see you. You here to help?” Ash asked the boy.
“Aye, I was, but it seems you and the lass have it under control here,” Euan replied with a wide smile and quickly raised eyebrows. A scream of pain came from behind Ash; he turned. Before him stood a solider with a sword jutting from his gut. The solider dropped to his knees to reveal Marric standing behind him hilt in hand. They stood there face to face, eye to eye, and in the briefest of moments an eternity passed between them.
“Betraying your own men now…brother? Ash asked.
“Tools, Ash. They’re tools that no longer serve their purpose,” Marric replied as he walked toward Ash.
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