The False Prince (Fall Of A King Book 1)

by Fuller, James

  "How long ago was this?" Nicolette asked urgently.

  The stable master chewed on his bottom lips for a moment in thought. "Must have been a little over half a fortnight ago now."

  "Thank you for your assistance," Zehava said, nodding to the man as they walked out of the stables.

  "Good luck to you!" the man called to them as he continued his work on Meath's old stallion.

  They did not spend a moment longer in the town than they had to and were traveling hard northeast again. The news that they were indeed on Meath's trail was uplifting and refueled their pace. Though the timeline that they were behind was disheartening, it was to be expected and did not hinder their drive much.

  Conversation was minimal that day as everyone seemed concentrated on the path ahead of them - their pace was nearly a jog as they all hoped to shorten their distance behind their friend. They made Drake River before nightfall.

  "So, what are we going to do when we find them?" Dahak asked, breaking the long silence. The thought had been playing in his mind all day.

  "Save him of course." Shania replied as if it was obvious.

  "I know that, but how? I mean Nicolette said they were both highly skilled with the Gift and all." Dahak reminded them. "We do not have anyone with magic on our side."

  "He is right, you know," Zehava put in, catching on to what his friend was implying. "It might be difficult dealing with two Wizards."

  "The Gifted die just the same as you or me if you catch them off guard," Nicolette replied in the bitterest tone any of them had ever heard from her, as she ran her fingers down the shaft of an arrow.

  No one could believe what she had just said. For some reason, they all had it in their minds it would be a snatch and grab - in truth, the chances of a peaceful exchange were unlikely. It would most likely come to a fight, and a dangerous one at that.

  "Well hopefully it will not escalate to that level, forcing us to prove that statement, but if it does, we will do what we must to get Meath back," Zehava said, a lot less cruelly than Nicolette.

  "We do have a Gifted on our side," Shania decided to tell them. When she had their attention, she continued. "Meath, he is on our side. Once he knows we are there, he will fight with us."

  "That is true," Zehava agreed. "If we can find a way to let him know we are there before we start our attack it will give him a chance to prepare."

  "How would we do that without getting caught or seen?" Nicolette asked.

  "I know how," Dahak boosted. "If we can get ahead of them, we can leave a message or a sign where he will see it and know it is us."

  "How will he know it is for him?" Shania asked.

  "We will use our army insignia," Dahak replied.

  Zehava grinned in admiration to his friend. "Good thinking, Dahak."

  "First we need to gain ground on them - we are a long way behind them," Nicolette reminded them.

  "Then I suggest we get some sleep so we can be moving again at first light," Zehava said, tossing Nicolette her bedroll.

  Dawn slowly crept around the mountains and trouble crept not far away, hoping to make an easy strike. Revenge stricken, the group of cutthroats moved in eagerly for redemption of their previous failure to capture the small group. This time they had nearly doubled their numbers from before, hoping it would ensure their victory as several men moved in from the river's edge allowing no escape route this time.

  Blades slid silently from scabbards and axe shafts were gripped tightly in meaty hands as the group did their best to stalk into the camp silently.

  Shania crouched in a nearby tree. She was the last to stand watch and it was almost time for her to wake everyone with the rising dawn. She had caught a green viper that had been investigating the intruder occupying its home. She was about to release the deadly serpent to another tree when she noticed the dark figures below her and swarming all around the camp. Her heart skipped a beat when she counted how many there were. She knew they were sorely outnumbered and the enemy was coming in at all angles, making escape impossible.

  Shania knew she had to do something and fast to try to even the odds, while she had the advantage of surprise. Without wasting another moment in thought, she jumped down from her perch and landed in front of two unsuspecting men. Before either man could react, her blade flashed across the closest one's throat, opening his jugular with a spray of blood. The man dropped his weapon and gripped his throat in terror as he sank to his knees, his life already fading from his dark eyes. Before the other man even had time to think, Shania threw the deadly viper at the man's face. The irritated serpent sank its poisonous fangs deep into his cheek, releasing its burning venom. He cried out wildly as he tried to pull the reptile off him and alerted the others to the trouble surrounding them.

  Zehava rushed out of their canvas tent, his sword arcing high, severing clean through a man's leg. With a quick reverse, he thrust his sword behind him and embedded the tip of his blade into the toppling man's back, puncturing a lung. Zehava pulled his blade clear, blocking an overhead attack and kicked up, catching the bearded cutthroat in the groin. The man stumbled back in pain, his guard down as he fought to keep his footing. Zehava's blade flashed down, slicing through flesh and bone, decapitating his enemy in one fluent movement. His heart almost stopped when he took a moment to scan the area and just how many opponents were upon them.

  Dahak scrambled out of the tent behind his friend and nearly tripped over the flailing body of a man already downed. Before Dahak could pick a target, a dagger flashed out of nowhere and embedded itself into his midsection. He did not understand what had happened - all of the sudden he was on his knees. He heard a faint cry from behind him and turned to see Nicolette, a look of panic and rage flashing across her face as an arrow released from her bow and streaked by him, he heard a grunt and the sound of a body crashing into the ground and knew she had hit her target. Dahak tried to stand but could hardly feel his legs beneath him - he looked down and saw the silver hilt of a dagger protruding from his belly. Reality crashed into his mind with stark understanding. Dahak turned back to Nicolette, who was now by his side, tears in her eyes. He tried to tell her it was okay, that he could not feel anything, but no words came out.

  Shania sidestepped a wild thrust and her blades bit in deep to her attacker's overextended arms nearly causing him to drop his long sword. Nicolette's cry caught her attention and she glanced over to see Dahak slump to the earth, a blade buried into his guts. The agonizing grunt of her attacker was all that saved her as her attention returned to a clumsy, weak swing. Shania's reflexes snapped her blades up to parry the inept attack - the sheer strength of her defense caused her attacker to lose hold of his weapon, his hands no longer able to hold it securely. Rage rippled through her and her curved blades tore through the man's weak leather armor and spilled his entrails to the damp earth, releasing a light steam where they landed. Shania ran towards Dahak not even taking noticing of the attacker to her side or his blade that ripped into her shoulder.

  "Give up!" a black toothed brute bellowed, his meaty, scared fist connecting with Zehava's jaw with a sickening crack.

  Zehava's head snapped to the side with the powerful blow and for a moment, he was sure he would lose consciousness. He managed to keep his feet beneath him and turned back to his attacker, his eyes blurred and he was no longer sure which one had hit him as several figures surrounded him.

  "Drop your sword, fool," the black toothed brute barked at him. "You do not need to end up like your friend over there. What a waste."

  Panic surged through him. Zehava looked back to their tent and saw Nicolette trying to notch an arrow frantically as Shania huddled over Dahak's limp form.

  "You do not have to die here, today, like this," the brute growled at him.

  Zehava's attention returned to the five armed cutthroats in front of him. He did not even bother to count the others that had surrounded their small camp. Nausea flooded through him at the sight of his downed friend as he realized they woul
d not survive this. He lifted his sword defensively in front of him - the weight of the blade impossibly heavy now as he watched crimson droplets cascade down the remaining silver of the blade.

  Zehava heard someone cry out his name and watched one of the men in front of him pitch backwards as an arrow embedded into the right side of his chest.

  "Tell the bitch to drop the bow!" the brute ordered him. "Or I swear to you, the things I will do to her will make the Keeper himself have night terrors!"

  Zehava turned back to his friends - they were surrounded. Nicolette held her bow in shaking hands, unsure of where to release her next arrow as Shania held Dahak up, trying to slow the flow of blood. A new fire ignited in Zehava knowing that Dahak was still alive. "What do you want from us?" Zehava hissed back, his eyes flaring with hatred.

  The man grinned back at him. "The same thing all men want, wealth and power."

  "You can have our coin," Zehava shot back, tearing his purse from his belt and tossing it to the ground. "Take it - just leave us alone."

  The man leaned down, retrieved the leather pouch, and grinned finding the weight of it satisfying. "Had this been the result of our first encounter, it might have been enough." He slipped the purse into one of his pockets. "But you have cost me far too much for me to be paid off so easily, and look, another three of my men lay dead by your hand alone, not to mention the others," the man exclaimed, looking down at the dead men around them.

  "What do you want from us?" Zehava growled, his sword gripped tightly in his hands.

  A wide smile crossed his mouth, "Your abilities as a fighter for starters."

  "I am not a hired goon who can be bought by a cutthroat like you!" Zehava snapped back.

  "Who says I was hiring?" The man replied with a menacing grin. "A shame about the other one - he would have provided some entertainment if nothing else. Now are you going to come with us peacefully or are we going to do this the hard way?"

  Zehava looked back at the others - their faces were mixed with emotions. Every fiber in his body wanted to fight to the death and not give these cutthroats the satisfaction of taking them prisoner, but then his eyes fell on Nicolette…Queen Nicolette…his Queen, the only remaining heir to Draco. He knew he could not act so boldly if there was still a chance he could keep her alive.

  "It is time to get moving Kara, wake up." Meath said, giving her a nudge with his boot. He had been up for some time now, just staring up at the night sky, acting upon an old children's tale, wishing upon the fading stars that he would see his friends again. He knew dawn would not come for a while but he wanted an early start even if it meant traveling by torchlight.

  "You have got to be moonstruck," Kara groaned as she struggled to sit up, her hands still tightly bound behind her back. "It is still pitch black."

  "We will travel by torchlight until dawn breaks through the canopy." Meath informed her. "We have to be close to a town or village by now, and I want to reach one today. I will need food and a horse."

  Kara managed to get herself to her feet. "What about me?" she asked bluntly. "You cannot believe, any more than we did, that you can trust me in a town."

  Meath grinned. "I know - that is why I plan on leaving you tied to a tree. Do not look at me like that, Kara. Of course I will tell them where to find you, but I will be long gone by then." Meath turned a stern eye on her. "And I would suggest you go back to Salvas and do not come for me again."

  "Please, Meath, I am begging you to reconsider this."

  "And I wish you and Daden had never invaded my life, but you did. Remember?" Meath snapped back.

  "But Meath, you do not understand…" Kara began.

  "What I understand is you abducted me, dragged me half way across the Kingdom against my will, and almost got me killed," Meath replied harshly. "But now I am in control and I am going back to my life! Now get moving."

  They began traveling west, once again at a slow pace due to the dim light of the torch that could only push back the darkness so far. No conversation was made as Meath's mind was on one thing and that was finding a town and being rid of her.

  Every step of the way, Kara fought her better judgment about telling Meath the truth of why he needed to go to Salvas with her. But she could not - she had been ordered not to - he would not believe her now anyway.

  "You cannot just leave me gagged and tied to a tree and send strangers to come fetch me," Kara insisted.

  "That is the beauty of it, I can." Meath said, not even looking back to see her reaction.

  "But think about what might happen to me!" Kara cried to him. "How can you be so sure they will not harm me?"

  Meath pondered this thought for a moment. "I am sure I will think of something between now and then," Meath replied, wishing he had his sword with him now to help clear their path, but the magnificent blade was still with Daden and Meath would likely never see it again.

  "Have you thought about how we are going to cross the river coming up?" Kara reminded him, hearing the river in the distance. "Without my powers I cannot do much to help."

  Meath almost burst out laughing. "There are many ways to get across a river without the help of magic, but nice try," Meath said back to her.

  "Cannot blame a girl for trying," Kara remarked.

  "There is the river," Meath said, pointing straight ahead.

  "Meath, I will tell you everything if you promise to…" Kara started, but Meath cut her off.

  "Shhh!" Meath whispered, cupping his ears with his hands to hear better. "It sounds like there is fighting on the other side."

  "We should go another way then - it is probably barbarians or highwaymen," Kara pleaded, scanning the growth around them almost expecting at ambush.

  "Someone may need our help - we should check it out," Meath countered, already moving swiftly through the remaining growth towards the rivers' edge. He stopped behind several thick leafed plants not far from the bank of the river - directly across from him was a group of people. Meath watched quietly trying to decipher what was going on. It almost appeared that bounty hunters had caught a small group of thieves, but the closer Meath looked the more he could tell that was not the case. Several bodies littered the area from the fight that had ensued, but now it looked like the larger band had neutralized the smaller.

  "It looks like one of them is hurt badly." Kara pointed out to the two people huddled over a moaning man.

  "Something is not right here - those people are in trouble."

  "How are you going to help them, Meath?" Kara asked. "We are on the other side with no weapons."

  Meath knew she was right, but he could not just stand by and watch as innocent people were killed by a band of cutthroats. "I can use my Gift."

  "It is too far and you are not a Master Wizard - you will never be able to reach them, and even if you could make it that far you might kill someone else," Kara explained, but Meath was already inching his way closer.

  Finally, Meath was as close as he could get without exposing himself in plain view. He watched for a moment longer and knew those people were in trouble as ropes were pulled out and hands were being tied. Meath took a deep breath and began to feel his innate Gift flow inside him when he heard the name Dahak from a familiar voice across the water. Meath's face went white and his legs nearly buckled beneath him as realization assaulted his every sense.

  By the time Kara made it to Meath, she too recognized one of the defenders across the river - it was the Princess. "Free me, Meath, and I will help save them I swear to you!" Kara pleaded to him, knowing time was running out.

  But Meath was not listening - he did not even realize she was behind him. Panic flashed through him when he saw one of the men backhand Zehava dropping him to the ground. Before Meath even knew what he was doing, two massive bolts of energy created from pure desperation exploded from his outstretched hands. The crackling bolts tore through the chest of a man about to bind Zehava's hands and threw him back into two others who were standing behind him.

  "You
are the one," Kara whispered to herself, knowing that was a distance that most experienced Wizards would be hard pressed to make with that strength and accuracy.

  Meath cried out in rage as he stepped from his hiding place, deadly Wizard's fire already blossoming in his palms. He did not even hear the rustling of bushes behind him - even if he had, he would not have turned to regard it as he unleashed his fire across the river engulfing two men in an uncontrolled inferno.

  "Daden, NO!" Meath heard Kara scream a moment before an array of bright lights and colors erupted through his vision, overwhelming his senses, before unconsciousness embraced him.

  It had been over a fortnight since Prince Kayreil and the royal family had returned to Zandor from Draco Kingdom. The affairs around the castle had been geared towards military alertness, for an eerie calm had been reported from several normally active boarder encampments.

  Kayreil stood looking over his balcony into the city surrounding the castle. Boredom was consuming him more every day now that his older brother Berrit was no longer around. Not that his brother had played with him or showed much of an interest in him. However, his brother had been fun to spy upon, especially his desired fetishes with women. Kayreil had watched his brother countless times take out his abnormal sexual desires on the servant or peasant girls. At first Kayreil had been disgusted by his brother's unusual and often fatal fetishes, but after a while he had learned that he, too, became aroused at such twisted acts.

  Prince Berrit forbade anyone from entering his private chambers, unless permitted by him. Kayreil grinned mischievously - with his brother away, he was free to snoop about and sample the many fine liqueurs and sweets he kept hidden away.

  Kayreil planned his route to his brother's room strategically, not wanting anyone to know where he was going or what he planned to do. His brother's chambers were on the far northern wing of the grand castle, whereas the rest of the Royal chambers - Kayreil's included - resided in the western wing. His brother liked his privacy and made sure he got it, as most of the northern wing was empty much of the time.