A Warrior's Return: The Royal Houses of Sea and Snow

by Jude Marquez

  Lambin was aware that many people were kind to him because of his status. No one dared a harsh word towards the heir and no one would cross King Eamon. And when the truth of who his parents truly were came out, Lambin was regarded as even of a fragile being. His father knew many things, some of them humiliating, and everyone knew that Margrave was not afraid of letting those secrets out. And no one knew, not even Lambin, the extent to which Margrave would go to protect his own child.

  They saw how protective Margrave could be of Alik and lately, of Avelina. They did not dare press his patience so they were kind to Lambin because they had to be.

  The boy led Lambin through the woods and the wolves kept pace with them. It was dark, with the branches of the trees shielding most of the fragile dawn. Lambin wanted to ask the boy where they were going, but was afraid to. The boy moved as silently as Eamon did and Lambin did his best to copy him. Finally, they came to a beach where there was a small cave set against the walls of the dunes.

  The boy led Lambin inside but the wolves remained outside. For a brief second Lambin was worried that the boy would try to harm him and Lambin still didn't know if he could protect himself. The boy was clearly clever, clever enough to survive on his own during the invasion of an army. He was fast and he had the wolves on his side.

  Just as the fear was overtaking him and Lambin was thinking of turning to run, a light lit up deep in the cave.

  "It's only me!" The boy called out.

  A woman appeared, with fiery red hair curled all around her head like flames from a fireplace. "And who do you have with you?"

  "A foreigner. He claims to be the heir to both King Eamon and King Alik. I thought that I should bring him back here so that we may judge for ourselves who and what he may be," the boy replied.

  The woman with flaming red hair gave the boy a harsh look. "And who are we to judge others?"

  "A foreigner lands on our shores, now of all times, and you think we should trust him?" The boy asked, incredulous.

  "I only ask that we not judge him. If we are too harsh, and he is the heir to the throne, what will King Eamon think of us?"

  The boy looked away and the woman with red hair approached Lambin.

  Her eyes were as green as the sea on a spring day and she stared down at Lambin for a minute. "Who are you?"

  "It is as he says. I am heir to King Eamon and King Alik. King Eamon set sail two days ago to bring a skeleton crew to the Isles. He planned to infiltrate the castle and kill Prince Raulyn and then retake his home. But when we landed, there was an ambush," Lambin explained.

  "And why would King Eamon bring a child with him to war?"

  Lambin opened his mouth but he didn't have a plausible explanation.

  The woman nodded. "Just as I thought. You stole away into the ship and no one knew you were coming."

  Lambin looked away and for a moment felt shame wash over him. He knew his mother and father were probably dying with worry and furious with him already leaving in the manner that he did. He knew that King Alik would be doing everything he could to get Lambin back home. He knew that Avelina and Issat would also be out of their minds with worry.

  And for what? So that Lambin might experience war firsthand? So that he might emulate King Eamon's long dead brother?

  "Come, tell us what you know, and we will see that you are taken care of. And then we will get word to our soldiers, to our men, so that they might mount a rescue mission to return our King to us."

  Chapter 16

  The more Eamon looked around the more he realized that this was indeed the cell he had been imprisoned in before.

  He didn't know what to do with this information or even if it mattered.

  No one came down to the dungeon and Eamon wondered if they would just leave him and Milet down there to starve. At some point, Alik would sail for them, along with the rest of the army. Eamon wasn't sure how long he could last in the dungeon without food or water and he wasn't sure if he wanted to know.

  Eamon was chained to one of the walls by his leg. He could stand and take two steps towards the door, but no more than that. Milet seemed to be deemed not as worthy an escapee as Eamon. He was not chained and moved around his cell freely.

  Eamon let him explore the cell without comment. He knew for a fact that there was no way out and although he wanted to tell his friend, he knew that Milet needed to find out on his own, even if it was for the piece of his own mind.

  Eamon was unsure how much time passed before they finally heard a door being thrown open and steps towards them.

  There were three soldiers escorting a servant carried two bowls of some unidentifiable gray mush and hunks of hard bread. Milet's door was open first and two of the soldiers entered with their swords drawn. The servant left the food on the bench and scurried out.

  Then Eamon was served.

  The servant looked familiar, as though she had worked in the kitchens when Eamon ruled. It was possible, he thought.

  "Your banquet, my King," one of the soldiers sneered.

  The other two soldiers laughed cruelly. The servant put the food in the same place as Milet's.

  The cruelty was, was that the food was just out of Eamon's reach.

  The servant glared at him as well. He did not know what kind of injustice was inflicted on her, not that he was faulting her for her anger and her blame toward Eamon.

  "Eat up. A new day arises," the soldier said.

  They left without another word.

  Milet picked up his food, smelled it, and made a face.

  "I'm not sure we should even be eating this," he said.

  Eamon didn't reply. It probably was drugged, or wasn't. It didn't matter because his food was on the other side of his cell and that was the only thing he could do, was look towards it.

  "Here," Milet said and shoved half of his bread through the bars.

  Eamon opened his mouth to tell Milet to keep it but Milet gave him such a harsh look that Eamon took the bread and began chewing on it, miserably.

  "Quite a ways from the feasts they used to give us in her honor, wouldn't you say?" Milet asked.

  Eamon nodded in agreement.

  But his thoughts were elsewhere. If even this one servant was so angry and hated him so much that she would torture her so-called beloved King with food, then what hope did he have for the rest of the country? Without the support of his countrymen, there was no purpose or point in trying to win back his lands.

  What little hope he had, was slipping away. After he finished the bread he laid down, is much as he could.

  "We should rest," Eamon said.

  Milet didn't say anything and Eamon couldn't read the look on his face in such dim light but he didn't argue and he sat down on the bench which appeared to be a luxury as Eamon stretched out on the cold stone floor.

  Eamon closed his eyes and tried to quiet his mind. After a few moments, he began to doze.

  EAMON STARTLED AWAKE and almost wrenched his leg in a horrible way, when he heard the door to the dungeons open quietly steps head towards them. The steps were light and quiet, obviously trying to hide the fact that they were down here.

  Eamon pressed himself against the wall and looked over to Milet, who was in much the same position as himself. Eamon readied himself for a fight, but as the same servant from earlier appeared in front of his cell, he relaxed, however slightly.

  "My King," she whispered. There was no glare on her or cruel twist to her mouth. She appeared to be contrite and bowed her head to him.

  In her arms were two bowls and more bread than Eamon thought was strictly necessary, along with water skins hung around her neck. She managed to open the cell door and stepped in.

  Dumbfounded, Eamon watched as she pressed the warm bowl into his hand and then left, leaving the cell door open. She opened Milet's door and handed him a bowl as well. She gave him another hunk of bread and then passed another hunk through the bars to Eamon.

  "What are you doing?" Milet asked even as he began to sh
ove the food into his mouth. Eamon realized that this was probably one of the only meals that they would get and began to eat quickly as well.

  “I must pretend as though I hate the King more than anyone else, or they will beat me and my children," she whispered. “I do what I do because I have to, but my allegiance stays with the King," she replied and shoved the water skin into his waiting hands.

  "We understand," Eamon said and Milet nodded.

  "Is there any way you can help us? Any information that you could share?" Milet asked.

  "You have but to ask, my Lord. I am one of the few servants that Prince Raulyn trusts to serve him and I know his movements both in and out of the castle. Anything that I can tell you, I will."

  Milet and Eamon looked at each other over her shoulder and shared a look.

  Perhaps not all hope was lost.

  MARGRAVE SUGGESTED that they follow Eamon's plan, as much as they could. They were to dock at night, and learn what they could from the taverns and the common people, of Eamon's whereabouts. They hoped that word would reach him and he would learn of who was looking for him.

  After that, with Eamon aware of them on the islands, they would begin to search for Lambin.

  Margrave made it clear that any that stood in his way would pay a very dear price. Lady Sexton remained silent throughout his plan but she did not disagree with him.

  Issat offered to go into the town, as she could blend in better with both the common people and she was familiar with the lands. Everyone agreed and they began to ready themselves.

  "Can I persuade you to stay on the ship?" Alik asked Avelina.

  She gave him such a cold and withering stare that her words were unnecessary.

  Alik nodded to himself and they all began to board the boat that would take them ashore.

  There were differences now since the last time Alik had visited. Obviously there was no royal welcome and it was dark. But the differences was more in the feel of the island, rather than the physical landscape.

  Although the weather was unchanged, Alik rubbed his bare arms. It was cold, colder than he remembered. When the wind blew, Alik could smell something burning and he didn't know if that was his memory of the last time he was here, watching the bonfires burn his parents bodies, or if there really was something on fire, somewhere on the island.

  Avelina kept her hood up, as she led them into a small area that was thick with trees.

  Margrave was in front of her, and was the first to come to a halt.

  Alik realized that when he smelled something burning he wasn't wrong. There was a large bonfire and there were soldiers throwing the bodies of their countrymen on top of it.

  It seemed like the invading army did the dishonor of burning the bodies instead of offering them a proper burial.

  In one swift, silent motion, Margrave and Alik had their bows out in arrows flying through the air before any could say a word.

  There were only four soldiers, so it did not take them long to dispatch them. Most were dying in on the ground, their life's blood seeping into the wet dirt below them before they realized what happened.

  Alik didn't have any words to say at that very moment to articulate what he felt when he saw the burning bodies of the men. He had to tell himself that there was no way the Prince would sacrifice such a valuable hostage as Eamon. He had to promise himself that he would look deeper into this, but later, when they had a more solid hold on their findings.

  Instead he took a deep breath and looked around. "Let us keep moving," he declared.

  Margrave didn't move for long moment. He stared at the fire and Alik remembered the fire that took half of his face and body and his parents, Alik's aunt and uncle. After that, Margrave was never particularly fond of fires or fireplaces and Alik could not blame him.

  He put a hand on Margrave's arm. "Cousin?" He asked.

  Once Margrave turned to him, Alik realized that his fears were misplaced.

  Margrave did not fear the fire itself, but what the fire could take from him. A new fear was stark in his eyes.

  "What if he is in there?" Margrave whispered.

  Alik shook his head. "He is not."

  Margrave's one working eye filled with tears. "You do not know that."

  Alik shook his head once more. He refused to acknowledge even the possibility that Lambin would be amongst the bodies that were piled in the bonfire.

  "He is not in there," he insisted.

  It was the first time since they were children that Alik had seen such emotion on Margrave's face. Alik did not know what to do or to say to reassure him, but he knew, in his heart of hearts, that Lambin was not in there.

  He looked around, for anything that might prove him right.

  Issat was already far ahead of him.

  She was tracing something back, deeper into the gathering of trees, and she stopped at one particularly large one with a thick trunk. She looked up into it and a smile bloomed over her face.

  "He hid," Issat announced. Then she retraced her own steps, and Alik was able to see what she was following.

  Smaller footsteps that were headed away from the forest and towards another spot.

  Issat stopped at a spot where there seemed to be more scuff marks than distinct footprints. She studied it for a moment and then her brow furrowed.

  "What is it?" Lady Sexton asked.

  "There are prints here, wolf prints," Issat said.

  Then she crouched down and by the light of the bonfire, she put her hand on the ground.

  “There's another set of footprints here to," Issat noted

  "Did they take him?" Lady Sexton asked, sounding strangled.

  "No, I don't think so. It looks like he went willingly, with the wolf by his side."

  "The orphans. The orphans must've found him," Avelina whispered.

  "Is that a good thing?" Margrave asked. He seemed to be regaining some of his color and a little bit of his sense.

  "Yes, it's the very best thing we could have hoped for. The orphans will help him and keep him safe. The wolves protect the orphans and if there's more than one wolf left on this island, no one will touch Lambin," Avelina declared.

  "I COULD ORDER YOU TO do it," Lambin said. Dozens of children were gathered in the back of the cave, around a fire, and they watched the boy and Lambin with speculative eyes. Lambin stared at the boy and the boy regarded him with disbelief on his face.

  The boy who rescued him, Bryson, stared at Lambin.

  That he laughed.

  "Young Prince, your orders mean nothing to me," Bryson said, joyfully. Although the woman with the fiery red hair was the oldest, the orphans looked most to Bryson for instruction.

  "Then you won't help me free King Eamon?" Lambin asked and looked around the fire.

  They were deep within the cave behind twists and turns where the firelight could not be seen from the entrance. The wolves guarded the entrance to their cave and made sure that none came to close.

  Lambin was given clothes, and though they were clean, they were much less fine than he was used to him. He did not complain, however. He knew that what he was offered was more than they could possibly bear to part with. And he also knew that he needed to blend in better with the people around him. He could not look like the next in line to the throne, not unless he wanted to be kidnapped.

  "What you propose is madness," Semaleon said calmly. Her red hair and green eyes made her look like a demon, but Lambin knew she was very kind.

  “The whole plan to come here was madness," Lambin said.

  Semaleon couldn't argue that.

  "I know that if we can get King Eamon out of there, and to the soldiers that still protect your island, then there is still a chance for us, for us all,” Lambin pleaded.

  "So you would have us sneak you into the castle and at the very least, show you the way to the dungeons so that you might break the King and his men out?" Bryson said slowly, laying out the plan once more.

  "You don't even have to do that much,
you could just draw me a map," Lambin said.

  The children around the fire stared at him or at the flames or at their hands. They seemed so much older than him and so much wiser. He didn't blame them for laughing at him and he knew what he was saying was probably his own death.

  But Lambin knew deep down that this was the right thing to do. And if there was anything he learned from King Eamon and King Alik was that you had to do the right thing, no matter the cost.

  He hated leaving behind his parents, especially so soon after learning the truth, but if this is what it took to make sure that all the orphans in all the lands would still have a chance at a decent life, then that's what royalty did.

  "This is the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Bryson said.

  He stood up. He was only a year older than Lambin but he carried himself more like a night than Lambin knew he could ever be. "But don't ever let it be known that Bryson was known for his intelligence. I will go with you, I will show you the way, and I will stay with you, because this is not something you can do alone."

  Although Lambin was grateful, he hesitated.

  Bryson shook his head when he saw Lambin trying to think of a way to argue Bryson out of going. "Either you go with me or you go without me. But if you go without me, you will lose your way. No one else here, not even Semaleon, knows the way like I do. I will go with you, and that is the only way you will go."

  Bryson spoke with such of finality that Lambin knew he didn't have a choice. He nodded. "When will we go?"

  "Now, before I lose my nerve," Bryson said.

  ALIK WAS FALLING ASLEEP before he realized that Issat was back.

  She was gone for hours, and Avelina had fallen asleep on Lady Sexton's lap. But when they heard Issat steps returning, Alik was on his feet, blinking in the dawn light.

  "What news have you?" Alik asked immediately. He immediately regretted it, upon closer inspection of Issat. She looked more exhausted than any of them.

  She had gone into the towns and asked around, discreetly, for any information she could find on the orphans. There was no telling when she would be back or even if she would be back.