The False Prince (Fall Of A King Book 1)

by Fuller, James

  Ursa pushed the thick wooden doors shut - placing his palms on the smooth wood.

  "I thought you were…" Meath started to say. "How did you?"

  "Silence!" Ursa shot back to him and he inhaled deeply, concentrating again on the door. The wood crackled and snapped as it shifted and expanded as frost coated the door , freezing the frame solid, making opening it impossible for some time.

  "To answer your questions - I healed myself while you were distracting that guard," Ursa said, looking at the tear in his blood-soaked robe. "Now let us keep moving before our fortune runs out." Men were already trying to break down the frozen door from the other side with their weapons.

  When they at last reached the kitchen, it was still dark and vacant. Ursa produced a small flame in his hand, so they could see where they were going. They went for the side door of the kitchen leading to the stable yard where Ursa hoped they could find horses to make their escape. There was no way they could get far enough, fast enough, on foot.

  "What is going on?" The thick accent of Maxwell came from behind them. They turned to see him standing there, holding a giant meat clever in one hand. Once he saw who it was, he planted the weapon into one of the nearby tables. "Meath…Ursa, what is going on here?" The chef asked in a voice displaying dissatisfaction toward people in his kitchen at this late hour. Suddenly, his eyes widened when he realized who was with them. "I am so sorry, Highness, I did not know you were here. I meant no disrespect." The chubby chef apologized as he bowed his head up and down.

  "Maxwell, we need to get out of the castle. Now!" Meath said, just loud enough for the man to hear and comprehend something was wrong in his tone.

  "Why?" He replied with a look of surprise as he reached for his weapon again.

  "There is no time for that," Ursa cut in. "Just know that what you will later hear is not how things actually occurred. Are there any horses nearby that are ready to set out?"

  "What are you talking about?" He started, but stopped short, for Ursa's look was harsh. "Well aye, of course. The evening patrol horses are being fed out back as we speak." Maxwell looked around as if something was going to leap out at him at any instant.

  "Good." Ursa said flat out. "For your own protection, I would advise you go back to your bed Maxwell, and pretend none of this happened." Ursa called back to him as the three ran to the door. They left Maxwell standing in the kitchen scratching his head in puzzlement. Not being one to disbelieve Ursa, Maxwell was swiftly on his way back to bed.

  They ran through the stable yard without being seen and found the horses Maxwell had said would be there. As they mounted the beasts, soldiers on the wall caught sight of them.

  "There they are!" one of them yelled.

  "Stop them!"

  They spurred the horses and galloped off toward the gates at full speed. A cluster of men from both Kingdoms stood their ground waiting to stop them - but no one from up above had yet begun to seal the gate.

  Ursa spurred his horse hard, both his hands alive with a violent maelstrom of air. The arms of several soldiers were cocked back, ready to throw their spears when Ursa released the surge of power into the cluster of men. The blast of air tore the soldiers from their feet, throwing them violently aside to the hard-packed earth.

  They rode down the faintly lit city streets as swiftly as the horses would go, scattering a handful of homeless beggars who did not wish to be trampled.

  *****

  The three of them made it several miles from the city before they were forced to slow their pace. The horses were luminous with sweat and needed to rest.

  "Would someone mind telling me what just happened? How was King Borrack murdered? Who? Why?" Meath asked frantically, not able to restrain it any longer. He looked to both Ursa and the Princess for some sort of response.

  Ursa began explaining what he and the Princess had witnessed in the garden. Next, he told of what had unfolded in the King's bedchamber and at last how they had made it to his quarters.

  Nicolette sat on her mare, staring off into the trees. Her emotions did not appear to work at all. She just stared off into the night sky blankly, her mind vacant and her body numb.

  "You mean to tell me the man from my dreams is Prince Berrit?" Meath uttered an oath, as he shook his head in disbelief.

  "No, I am guessing the Prince is dead and has been for a time. As for your dreams, I would not leap to such conclusions. We do not have time to shape this all out yet," Ursa said as he watched the road behind them. "It will not be long before they pick up our trail."

  "Where will we go - what will we do?" Nicolette asked again, coming back into the conversation. She fought back the tears that consumed her. Her mind began to come back to life, her grief besieging her.

  "We will set out to your Uncle Marcus. He is the only one who has yet to be misinformed of the true murderer of the King. We should be able to make it there before the rumors do if we make haste and stay ahead of the hearsay," The Wizard replied with a sigh of sorrow for the girl.

  She had been through more catastrophes in the last hour than in all of her life. He knew it was far from over and he did not know what help Lord Marcus would be, but it was the only safe place he could think of. The only place they could find help. "We must stop and take care of the band of soldiers that will be coming for us," Ursa said, unsympathetically, as he dismounted his black and white spotted mare. He started to look through the saddlebags for provisions that they might require and discarded what they did not. They needed to ease the load for the horses. "We will not make it far with the armies of Draco and Zandor looking for us," he continued, his attitude harsh, angrily throwing some moldy fruit to the ground.

  "What are we going to do to stop them? We cannot just kill them. Some of them are our friends! We must inform them of what is going on - then we will not have to run," Meath exclaimed as he also searched his horse's saddlebags for effects that might be of use.

  "We will do as we must!" Ursa snapped back dangerously. "They are men led by deception and lies and they want their Princess back, along with whatever bounty they were promised. They will not be concerned in hearing our side of the tale. I am not trying to be cruel or insensitive, but I am willing to do whatever is essential for our survival! If we die, no one will know the truth and then what will happen?" Ursa finished as he placed his head in his hands. He had already used a great deal of his powers throughout the day to escape and feared he would not have a sufficient amount left to conclude the task at hand. "I am sure many of those coming for us will not be our own soldiers, but those from Zandor - they are almost fearless when hunting The Gifted and will show us no mercy."

  "Once we prove to them that she is all right and you were not trying to abduct her, they will pay attention." Meath said as he took a swallow of water from the skin he had found on his stallion. It was as if he were trying to persuade himself, more than them.

  "They will listen, if I tell them," Nicolette finally cut in as Meath handed her the water and nodded his head in agreement.

  "Maybe you are right, Highness, but we need to be prepared for them if they do not." Ursa wished it would be that straight forward as he pulled a jeweled sword from its hiding place in the saddle. He handed it to Meath, who held it in his hands for a moment, getting a feel for the blade. It was heavier than he was used to, but it would have to do if things went badly. He looked to Ursa solemnly and could hear his words over and over in his head; "I am willing to do whatever is essential for our survival." His eyes drifted to Nicolette who was trying hard to flake off the dried blood on her hands and arms—the blood of the King, her father—as she fought to remain composed. His attention went back to the sword, his jaw firmed. He would do what was necessary for her survival.

  They waited on the path for the advancing search party - Meath counted each man who came into view. There were thirty; most were Zandorian soldiers armed to the teeth with full body armour, swords, spears and bows.

  "It is all right Princess - you will be in s
afe hands soon. If you Wizards yield now you will be granted a swift death. If you resist, I assure you, you will suffer indefinitely!" The Captain yelled, as he and his men dismounted from their steeds. They drew their weapons and bowstrings were pulled back tightly and notched.

  "You do not understand! Things are not as they seem! They did not kill my father. Prince Berrit did!" Nicolette screamed back. She was trying to find the right words to persuade them, but it all seemed to come out too fast to make any sense.

  "What is it going to be Wizard?" The Captain yelled, ignoring the Princess's plea.

  "It would not matter, I fear," Ursa called back. "You have already made up your mind of the outcome."

  The Captain's grin was malicious as he pulled his full helm over his head. He raised his sword and signaled his men to attack, and they charged with a battle roar.

  Ursa raised both his arms high, towards the sky, and bolts of arcing energy exploded from his fingertips with a thunderous crackle, tearing through the chests of the flanking men. They dropped to the earth, riddled with gaping holes that allowed their entrails to seep out from their charred bodies into the dirt.

  Meath let loose an inferno of flames that engulfed a trio of soldiers as they ran toward him. They dropped, screaming to the ground, frantically rolling around as their skin blistered and melted from their faces as the Wizard's fire feasted. He met another warrior with a fierce forward thrust of his sword, slipping through the Zandorian defensives. It punctured through the man's chest plate and protruded out his back, while yet another enemy sword just missed cleaving his arm. Meath put his boot to the dying man's chest and tore the blade out, to meet the new attacker with a savage slash to the throat. Blood sprayed across his face. Battle lust had overtaken him and now death was all he could see. His training had come back to him full force and instinct mixed with his adrenaline. Meath twisted just in time to see another soldier swinging his sword at him. As their swords met with a loud metal ring, Meath pushed the man back and discharged a bolt of pure energy from his palm sending the man flying back into the dirt, smouldering in a ragged heap.

  The five bowmen had difficulty aiming with all of the fighting, but at last, an opportunity came. While he was preoccupied, all five fired at Ursa, eager to bring the great Wizard down quickly. Ursa had seen the attack coming from the corner of his eye. Both hands thrust outward, one toward his original attacker who charged at him with his lance leveled, his other pointing palm out toward the looming missiles that were just released from their strings. Two currents of wind erupted from Ursa's palms - one slamming violently into the torso of a charging threat, sending the man plummeting back a dozen paces to the ground, twisted in a painful mound. The second met the arrow assault scattering them off course and into two of the oncoming soldiers wounding them severely.

  Ursa fell to his knees, feeling his powers weakening dangerously. His hands hit the earth and he released a wall of fire that tore from the dirt a dozen paces in front of him and caught another group of men who were engulfed by the unruly inferno. They tried to run but only made it steps before the air was consumed from their lungs and they dropped to the earth in a frenzy to hold onto life that ended moments later.

  Meath moved just in time to miss the fiery columns that erupted from the earth. Just then, a man who he had not noticed plunged a spear into his thigh and he fell with a howl. Meath stared up at the large warrior whose spear was prepared to take his life - he watched the man's eyes go wide and a trickle of blood spurt from his mouth. The man fell to the earth trembling, Meath looked up and there stood Nicolette with a short sword held tightly in her shuddering hands. And then everything went black…

  "They are too powerful. Retreat!" The last of the men ran to their horses and galloped off into the mist as fast as they could.

  "They will send more after us and we might not be so lucky next time. We need time to regain our strength - let us make haste!" Ursa said as he got to his feet with more than a little effort. He looked over to where Nicolette and Meath were and saw the Princess cradling him in her arms, crying.

  "I do not know what happened, he just blacked out." Nicolette cried as she held him tighter, ignoring the blood that was staining her blue cloak. It already had been stained with much blood this night.

  "He is not used to conjuring that much power in one day. He will be fine in a few hours. Now bind off his wound and help me put him on his horse - we must go now!" Ursa said as the two of them lifted Meath. They rode off down the dark, misty road leaving the dead and dying men strewn behind them.

  3

  "What do you mean they got away?" Prince Berrit screamed slamming his fist into the table, his face flared bright red in anger, "you incompetent mules!"

  The tension and frustration in the library could be felt like a torrential rain in the jungle. Everyone of note in the castle had been summoned there shortly after news of their escape became known.

  "Relax my son - they will not make it far, not with two full companies after them," King Dante said to his aggravated son, and then turned back to the small group of soldier who had faced the Wizards and retreated. "As for all of you, ten lashings a piece for your cowardice!"

  "This does not make sense. Why would Ursa do something like this? There must be something missing," Lord Dagon questioned, looking around the room as if expecting answers.

  "If that bastard so much as harms one hair on her head, I will see him beaten, skinned and left for the buzzards," Berrit howled at all those in the room while he paced back and forth, from one end of the table to the other.

  "Who is the other one with Ursa?" Dante asked, looking to Lord Tundal for an explanation.

  "Meath is Ursa's adopted son - also his apprentice - though his training in The Gift started not more than a few seasons ago. However, he was first trained as a soldier in Drandor's infantry. I recall he did quite well in his training, several of my Captains had nothing but positive things to say about him," Tundal replied calmly, though he was anything but.

  King Dante pondered Tundal's words before speaking. "So you taught a tainted heathen how to use a blade as well?" Dante grunted his dissatisfaction. "It would appear to me like he is just as dangerous of a threat as Ursa."

  "I still do not understand why they would do something like this. What reasons would they have for abducting the Princess?" Dagon bellowed out. "There must be some mistake… There has to be! Ursa and Borrack were good friends - he would never have done this in his own mind, ever! Ursa is a good man and a good friend to all who reside in Draco I cannot believe these accusations." He slammed his fist on top of the table. "Something is amiss!"

  Berrit turned to face Dagon with an imperious sneer. "Oh, believe me, my good Lord Dagon," Berrit hissed. "It was Ursa. That fiend came into my room with the Princess, cast some sort of curse on me that stole my freewill and made us go to the King's room with him! We could not talk or scream for help. Believe me, I tried with every ounce of strength I had, and I'm sure the Princess did too!" He bellowed, storming around the room recounting his horrifying experience to everyone yet again.

  Berrit was sure to keep his story exactly the same as before, for any mistakes could ruin everything. "That Wizard murdered King Borrack as he tried to reason with him for the safety of his daughter and those in the castle. Then he told me he was going to frame me for both the King's death and that of the Princess. He was about to use his cursed evil to make me murder the poor, grief-stricken Princess. That is when Halpas tried to intervene." Berrit stopped at the table and downed a cup of wine while everyone sat breathlessly, waiting to hear the full tale. "Then more guards showed up to help, and he massacred them too, without a moment of remorse. He realized he was going to be caught if he stayed any longer and grabbed the Princess and ran off with her, leaving me alone in the room in hopes I would be framed. He knew because I am Zandorian that you would blame me before him and that would give him ample time to escape if he needed." He said the last part of the story with melancholy, as he s
at down in his chair. "He did not support this treaty! He loathes Zandorians with a passion because of our views on his kind. He refuses to let our Kingdoms unite…at any cost, and you wonder why we are so reluctant to accept them."

  "We will find her my son - just stay composed," Dante said while patting his son's back.

  "This is just proof that The Gifted are cursed beasts!" Zefer, Lord of Samel, blared out in rage at the whole situation.

  "It still does not make any sense at all," Tundal replied bitterly, his eyes glaring across the room towards Berrit, recounting his tale in his head for any flaws. He did not believe him, he could not believe him and yet there was no proof otherwise.

  "You doubt me!" Berrit screamed across the table. "Who else could have massacred those men like that? If it were me, I would have had to use a blade not vile sorcery!"

  "There are many witnesses that saw Ursa and Meath attacking our own men to get out of the castle with the Princess," Dagon said, though everyone could tell it pained him immensely to do so.

  "It was like he was possessed," a Draco soldier said, his face still pale as he recounted what he saw. "Ursa did not think twice to unleash his abilities against me… I…I tried to confront him and the Princess in the hall. The Princess looked like she was fighting something - you know, on the inside - trying to talk, but could not, you know? That is when I knew something was really wrong, so I attacked and he hit me with his magic….almost killed me. I hit the wall so hard."

  "Possessed, you say?" Berrit questioned and the soldier nodded, "and the Princess could not talk to you?"

  "Ay, it appeared so, yes," the soldier replied.

  King Dante dismissed the soldiers after hearing each of their accounts. "Words from your own men claim truth to what my son has said."

  "It is still too much to fathom. Something is missing. Ursa would not have just done something like this," Dagon muttered bitterly, though he could not deny the words of the soldiers who were there.