The False Prince (Fall Of A King Book 1)

by Fuller, James

  "Stay down, filth, lest you want to find your guts spilt on the ground! I will not tell you again!" the commander barked. "Now where is the Princess you faithless pig?"

  "I do not have time for this now," Ursa muttered under his breath.

  "What did you say?" the man barked angrily, taking a threatening step closer.

  Ursa was about to act when a movement behind Talena caught his eye. Before he could warn her, the pommel of a sword cracked hard into the back of her skull. Her eyes rolled back and she crumpled to the earth releasing her obsidian staff.

  Ursa lurched toward her but stopped quickly when the edge of a blade touched his neck.

  "I know your kind," the commander hissed down to him, his blade pressed hard enough to draw a thin trickle of blood. "I also know you, Ursa." He kicked Ursa hard in the ribs dropping the old Wizard to the earth wheezing for air and pushing his blade hard into his back so he would not move. "Do not take your bows off of him for a second. Tie them up tightly. We will take her back to camp. Markect, I want you and your men to do what you do best with him."

  A massive Zandorian stepped between Ursa and the commander with a twisted grin. "Aye Jarrel, we will." He stepped down on Ursa's face with so much force Ursa was sure his jaw and cheekbones would break.

  "Markect, try not to kill it, until you have found out where the Princess is." Jarrel turned and left with Talena and his small group of men.

  "You made it a long ways from Draco Castle, you traitorous cur," Markect said bitterly, lifting Ursa's limp form to his feet while one man bound his hands tightly and another held fast with a bow taunt on Ursa's chest. "But we knew we would find you - we always find our prey." He landed a hard blow into Ursa's guts nearly causing him to vomit. "I am going to offer this once - so listen well and think good on it. Tell me where the Princess is and I promise you, I will kill you quickly and painlessly."

  Ursa looked hard at Markect as he fought back the pain of the last blow he had suffered. He cursed himself for not acting sooner but he had hoped to spare some lives. But he knew now, that would not happen and the longer he waited the less likely Talena would still be alive and if she died, they may never be able to stop the false prince. "She is safe - you need not worry."

  Markect chuckled. "Well I am glad you cleared that up for me. You hear that boys?" He turned around to look at the three armed soldiers behind him. "He says that Princess Nicolette is safe, and here we were all worried she was in danger." They all shared in on the hearty laugh and Markect turned back to Ursa. "You wasted your chance Wizard, but I want you to know I am really going to enjoy this!"

  "As am I," Ursa replied, his hands flashed in front of him, ice blades leaving both his hands and finding their way deep into Markect's abdomen.

  "You bastard!" Ursa heard from behind him and he twisted his body just in time to avoid the arrow that streaked by him and into the chest of one of the armed soldiers standing behind Markect.

  The soldier who had tied Ursa's hands charged forward - his blade leading the way, but was met with a blast of air from Ursa's outstretched hand that sent him sprawling back hard into a solid pine. The sickening crack of his head that resounded ensured Ursa he would not be returning to the fight.

  Ursa turned quickly to see the two bowmen behind Markect release their strings, at the same instant a stream of Wizard's fire ruptured from Ursa's other hand. So intense were the flames that the arrows entered but did not emerge from the other side. The two bowmen threw themselves to the ground barely avoiding the blistering fire that reached for them.

  The first bowman fumbled with an arrow, trying desperately to notch it in time before the angry Wizard remembered him. A loud crackle and bright flash alerted him that he had been too late. His eyes quickly cleared and he saw that he held the splintered remains of his recursive bow. His eyes continued down to where he felt a warm, wet sensation trickling down his legs. His eyes widened at the sight of his entrails seeping from the gaping hole in his abdomen. He tried to cry out in agony, but death stole his voice before it could escape.

  Ursa turned his attention back to Markect who was struggling to stay on his knees as he tried in vain to pull the two icicles from his midsection. "Where is your camp?" Ursa asked coldly.

  Markect tried to hold his composure as he looked up at the deadly Wizard. "You are wasting your time - I will not tell you a thing," he coughed out and thick blood oozed from the corners of his mouth.

  "Tell me and I will kill you quickly." Ursa kicked him in the chest and toppled him over, causing Markect to cry out in agony.

  "I would rather suffer the wrath of a thousand slow deaths than ever help you!" He tried to push himself upright, but his arms no longer had the strength.

  "Have it your way," Ursa replied, walking past him and over to the two archers would were slowly recovering from the Wizard's attack. "Which one of you wants to live?" Ursa asked his tone deadly.

  "I would rather die!" the first spat.

  Ursa's hand ignited into flames and he grabbed the archer around the throat. The Wizard's fire took to the man's flesh like dried tinder and his wild screams of suffering were short lived. Ursa turned to the other archer who had turned pale at the sight of his friend's gruesome death.

  "To the East, it is not far I swear to you! Please do not kill me!" the man pleaded like a child.

  "If you are lying, I will find you, you do not want that." Ursa retrieved Talena's staff, secured it to her horse, and took off to the East in pursuit of Talena and her captors.

  *****

  "Wake up, filth!"

  Talena woke to her head snapping to the side and a burning sensation pulsing through the side of her face. She blinked back the tears that threatened to escape and turned her head back to face her attacker.

  "Where is the Princess?" Jarrel asked, wiping her blood from his hand with a rag.

  "I…I do not know what you are talking about," Talena muttered, trying to move her arms, but finding they were tied behind her back to a post.

  "Wrong answer," he slapped her hard again, causing her nose to bleed even more. "Just tell me what I want to know, and this will all stop." He took a step back. "Now let us try again, where is the Princess? Where did Ursa put her?"

  Talena spat out the blood that was filling her mouth and glared hard at the brute who had hit her. "I told you, I know nothing."

  Jarrel's face exploded with rage. "Where is she?" he screamed, now a mere finger-span away from her face, showering her with spittle. "Tell me you little wench or so help me I will make you regret every breath you have ever taken in this life!"

  Talena tried to fight back the tears, but no longer could and they streamed freely down her face. The thick, rancid smell of stale liquor assaulted her nose and eyes in ragged breaths from the Zandorian leaning over her. She cursed herself for not being better linked with her Gift, had she been she would have burned this man alive in an instant.

  "She is not going to talk, Captain - let the boys have some fun with her," one of the big brutes in the tent said. "Maybe after that she will feel like talking." He finished with a wicked grin.

  "You hear that? Is that what you want? Jarrel taunted. "Do you know what they will do to you if I let them? Tell me what I want to know and I promise you no one will touch you. If not, then I will let me men ravish your flesh until it peels from your bones!"

  *****

  Ursa stalked into the small, temporary encampment. He wasted no time being stealthy or trying to survey the camp before he entered it. He knew there would not be more than a handful of men left. Every moment was precious and could be Talena's last - if she died, all was lost.

  The first Zandorian Ursa saw was readying a cooking fire and had not even known the Wizard was there before a vicious sphere of Wizards' fire engulfed him. His death screams alerted the others, but Ursa did not slow his pace.

  Two more armed Zandorians climbed out of their canvas tents, only to be met by arcs of raw power that lacerated through their chests and thre
w them back inside, smoldering in death.

  An arrow streaked by Ursa's face nearly stopping the Wizards' assault on the camp. He turned angrily to the man who had already notched another arrow, and was drawing the string back. Flames licked the bowstring - rendering the weapon useless. The Zandorian threw the bow to the ground and charged, pulling a dagger from behind him. Several steps into his charge, he threw the blade hoping to score an easy hit. A fierce surge of wind met the whirling blade and hurled it back into the throat of its owner, dropping the man to the earth, gurgling on his own lifeblood.

  Ursa stopped a dozen paces from the largest tent - there stood a large Zandorian soldier and Jarrel. Talena was held firmly in front of him and kept in place by a blade to her throat.

  "One more step and I swear I will cut her throat," Jarrel told him, a hint of fear in his tone.

  "I am going to give you one chance to live." Ursa called to him, his demeanor deadly. "Let her go."

  Jarrel laughed. "And give up my only leverage? I highly doubt that."

  Ursa's arm flashed forward and the Zandorian soldier standing beside Jarrel pitched backwards - a large ice shard protruding from his torso. "You had your chance." Ursa stalked forward, fire dancing in his hand.

  Jarrel slashed his blade across Talena's throat, threw her to the side, and ran forward to meet the Wizard.

  15

  "Come on - faster!" Zehava urged as he and Nicolette sparred on the grass with ironwood practice swords. "You need to be faster than that or you are as good as dead."

  Nicolette parried Zehava's low thrust and swung it up high, but was not nearly fast enough to get her own blade down to block his slash across her midsection. He let her know it by slapping his blade across her hard leather stomach guard.

  They had spent the last few days building up her endurance and strengthening her muscles. It was slow going, but after only a few days, one could not expect much - she had done better than any of them could have expected.

  "Every move has a counter move, either to better your advantage over your enemy, or to put you both back on even terms." Zehava explained to her, again wiping sweat from his brow. "Now attack me!"

  Nicolette gritted her teeth and lunged forward, hoping to spear Zehava. As she expected, he easily parried the attack and brought his sword around for an overhead chop, which she barely managed to block in time to avoid a blow to her shoulder. She stepped back, putting distance between them-as he had shown her to do - to give herself time to recover. He stepped forward, closing the distance quickly and she slashed her sword for his abdomen, but again he easily parried the attack wide, leaving her open for him to score a hit.

  "Better, but still dead." He chuckled, though he was truly impressed with her increasing skill over such a short time.

  "I know, it is just this sword is too heavy. I cannot move it fast enough and control it because the weight throws me off balance," Nicolette complained again, growing a little frustrated.

  "I have to say, you are getting a lot better than before," Dahak replied, hoping to encourage her.

  "Well that is enough sword practice for the day, now we jog with loaded pack and then we will see how well you can shoot a bow," Zehava said, packing up their equipment.

  "Where is Shania today, Zehava?" Nicolette asked, pouring herself a mug of cool water from the clay jug.

  "She said she was going to go visit that Barnaby fellow she came in with," Zehava replied. "She wants to see if she can convince Lady Jewel to have him released since he helped keep her safe in the city."

  "He did not seem to be a bad guy," Dahak added. "Though from what the guards told me, he is a leader of a thieves' guild."

  *****

  "Barnaby?" Shania called into the gloominess at the figure on the other side of the iron bars.

  "Well look who finally decided to come visit," Barnaby replied drearily, turning around to face her. His normally spotless clothes were now stained with grime - the look on his face and way he moved toward her showed his disapproval.

  "They not let me see you until Lady Jewel permitted it," Shania told him, her voice full of remorse. "I sorry you are here for helping me."

  "Always a curse for my ever-giving generosity," he replied with a small smirk. "So aside from coming to apologize for having me arrested and forced to spend the last few days in this filth-infested cell, what brings you here?"

  Shania smiled, glad to know he had not lost his kind, forthcoming demeanor. "I am going to try and help get you out of here."

  Barnaby nearly leapt towards the bars, gripping them in obvious excitement. "Really, you are going to get me out of here? How? When?"

  "I am going to try," Shania repeated.

  "How?" he asked eagerly. "I really do not like being caged up you know - I get very anxious in small spaces."

  Soft echoing footsteps turned their attention to Lady Jewel who had finally arrived, though the look on her face was obvious that she had no wish to be here.

  "My extended greetings, my Lady," Barnaby bowed courteously.

  If Jewel was at all impressed, it did not show. "So this is the great Barnaby, who I have heard so much about."

  "I am sure my reputation has been exceedingly exaggerated through its travels to your beautiful ears." He grinned.

  "I am sure it has," Jewel replied, callousness and indifference edging her voice. "Let us cut the witty banter and get to the heart of the matter. Shania has asked that I release you since you so graciously helped her when she was lost and alone in the city. Through these last several days, events have proven miraculous - marvels can, and do, occur. I have a difficult time believing that your assistance did not encompass some underhanded motive."

  "I assure you, my Lady - my assistance in aiding Shania was a selfless act of repayment of the purest intentions."

  "Yes - she told me about saving your sister. But I have little faith in 'honor among thieves'."

  "No, he means what he says - he is not a bad person," Shania cut in. "He has much honor and…"

  "Shania, my dear, I have dealt with his kind a hundred times before," Jewel stopped her. "He will talk the talk and present all the right signs for the naïve to take his bait. Then, once he gets whatever it is he wants, you will likely end up dead with a dagger in your back."

  "What!" Barnaby gasped in utter dismay. "I am truly insulted and hurt by such prejudiced slander against me!"

  "You are nothing more than a common thief and cutthroat and your kind has never done more than pray on the naïve and innocent, plaguing this fair city with your criminal ways!" Jewel barked back. "I am sorry, Shania - I truly would like to believe him, but I have been around far too long to fall for such deception. He shall remain here until I believe he has paid for his crimes."

  "You cannot be serious!" Barnaby exclaimed with a groan of bitterness.

  "You are wrong! He is a good man!" Shania begged, but to no avail.

  "I am sorry. I have made my decision." Jewel turned and began walking back to the stairs. "Come, Shania."

  Shania stood there in complete shock that Jewel did not set him free. Yet somehow, she had known it would be this way.

  "Thank you for trying at least." Barnaby sighed. "If you could go and check in on Keisha and make sure she is all right, that would mean a lot to me. She has more enemies than I do and not the means to defend herself against them without me."

  "Come now, Shania - this is no place for us ladies," Jewel called to her from near the stairs.

  "Check on her yourself," Shania whispered through gritted teeth. She reached down her top, drawing a gasp from Barnaby as she pulled out two thin metal picks and quickly tossed them into Barnaby's cell before she followed Jewel without looking back at him.

  Barnaby picked the metal picks up, his eyes dancing with excitement and possibility. "I will remember this."

  *****

  "Ursa should have been back by now, my Lady - we must act now before it is too late," Uvael, Dragon's Cove's advisor told her.

&nbs
p; Jewel paced the room where her sick husband lay, too weak to speak. "Maybe we should give him one more day - I am sure he just fell a little behind. He might have the answers we seek," Jewel replied, trying more to convince herself than her advisor. They'd had this conversation the day before when Ursa's deadline had ended - she had already given him the extra day.

  "My Lady - with all due respect - you have a duty to your people - this evil Wizard who has found a way to fool so many is not only a threat to Draco but Dragon's Cove and the whole Kingdom. We may have a plan of action that might solve the whole ordeal without war or having the whole kingdom in an uproar," Uvael pleaded. "You must think of the big picture here, my Lady, a lot is at risk."

  Jewel went to her husband's side and looked down to him, noting how weak and defeated he looked. "What I would not give for you to be well, my love." She looked hard into his sunken eyes, knowing he could hear her, for his eyes had tears in them. "I do not know the best course of action, my husband - I was never trained in the arts of war and battle and how to rule in such a manner, but I shall do the best that I can, my love," she whispered kissing his forehead. "Send the assassins to Draco Castle, their payment of a thousand gold coins will be waiting here for the one that brings me this bastard's head," Jewel ordered, her voice again stern.

  Uvael bowed his head and backed out of the room. "Yes, my Lady, I believe you have made the right choice."

  "I pray that I have..." Jewel whispered once the door had closed.

  *****

  "You are all clear on what needs to be done?" Uvael asked one more time to the five assassins Dragon's Cove had hired days ago, in case Ursa did not make it back in time with a plan.

  "Of course's we do - you nag worse than a woman." One of the assassins laughed in a deep, thick accent. He was the only one of the group from the desert kingdom far to the east.

  "I am just trying to make sure there are no mishaps, no one may know who you are and what you are doing there. This has to be clean and flawless," Uvael told them firmly.