The Unfading Lands The Complete Set

by Katharine E Hamilton

  “Yes, I do.” Edward stated honestly, though his desires were not for the same reasons as Lancer’s. “I think I will patrol the boundaries, my Lord, and see what other news I may learn.” Edward straightened his tunic and watched as Lancer rose to his feet as well.

  “Excellent idea! If you hear any other exciting news, rush to tell me. For I am jubilant today!” Lancer whirled in a circle of celebration on his way to the door. “Perhaps this evening you and I can immerse ourselves in the reflection chamber and see what powers emerge.” He rubbed his hands in anticipation as he invited on his way out. Edward waited until Lancer rounded the corner at the end of the hall before he shut the door to his chambers. He then quickly scrambled around his room and packed his journal and satchel to make way for the boundary. He needed to see Elizabeth.

  ∞

  “Arrows away!” King Eamon yelled as he hoisted his sword towards the sky. A cloud of arrows rained down from the first parapet above the castle gates in the Eastern Kingdom. Clifton watched as several Southern guards fell from injury and he redirected his horse through the cobble stone market grounds. Guards lined up along every entrance to the castle grounds and Clifton watched as panicked faces rushed into houses and under protection. He heard a whiz fly by his ear and spotted an arrow that landed in the plank of a market canopy beside him. He kicked his heels into Henry and moved. “Hold firm!” He yelled as he watched the Southern guards rampage through the small village outside the castle walls. He turned to see his father commanding the line of archers. Eamon looked down at him.

  Clifton nodded at him as he turned his horse to the western exit. He and his troops would head out on foot. The village would be demolished if they did not. He lined up his guards and the gates opened. On horseback, they rushed through the ranks swinging swords and axes as Southern guards attempted to slice through their saddle straps. Clifton’s sword met flesh as he speared the heart of one of his assailants. He grunted as he pulled his sword from the man’s body and quickly sliced it through the air to block the blade of another black tunic. Groans and yells swallowed the air as the smell of sweat, horse, and blood filled his nostrils. His muscles ached at the assault of misuse and the affliction of repeated lunges of force. His blade found its home beneath the breastplate of another guard, the man’s lifeless eyes haunting Clifton as he withdrew his blade. Killing the Realm’s own men. He shook his head of the depressing thought and pulled his reins towards the valley. Was this not the fear he alluded to in the Council Meeting? The Realm had officially turned on itself.

  ∞

  Prince Eric straddled his horse and watched as his army swarmed over the Eastern Kingdom. Swift and quick, they made hasty work of reaching the castle walls. It would not be long before they reached the inner courts and market of the kingdom. His dark horse shifted underneath him as if he too were ready for battle. He squinted as he caught sight of the prince wielding his blade through the air. “Prince Clifton,” he mumbled softly. “Now isn’t that interesting.”

  “Aye, my Lord?” His Captain sat regally beside him as they watched their army sweep across the land.

  “Prince Clifton has come to fight for his kingdom.” Prince Eric stated.

  “And?” His Captain asked with a slight annoyance to his tone at the obvious statement.

  “And that means he left Princess Elizabeth behind.”

  The guard’s eyes turned towards his prince. “You plan to turn back?”

  “Aye. There is no better time than the present. I know just where I will find her at a time like this.” Prince Eric stated. “Missing her betrothed, she will go to the one place she can be alone… the boundary line. I will find her there.”

  “I am sure she has protection, your Grace. By now they must sense your threat. Besides, I did not realize you still aimed to obtain the princess.”

  “Indeed, but she will not take a guard to her secret place. It is her place of escape. And I wish to obtain everything I desire.” Eric’s jaw ticked as he set his teeth in a firm scowl.

  “I must insist you take guards with you, my Lord, just in case you find resistance.”

  Prince Eric nodded. “You feel you can take care of this for me?” He waved his hand over the ferocious fight waging in front of them as if he were discussing the weather.

  “Aye, my Lord. I will make sure the Eastern Kingdom suffers.”

  “Good. Oh, and kill Prince Clifton too. I do not need him getting in the way.” Slapping his reins, Prince Eric turned his horse in the opposite direction and left the fight in the East for his own conquest in the North.

  ∞

  Clifton felt the sharp sting of an arrow as it pierced just below his right shoulder blade. Slipping from his saddle to the ground, he thrashed his sword in a parry with two men before reclaiming time to breathe. He reached up and yanked the arrow from his shoulder and winced at the slight bite of pain. He surveyed the progress of his guards. The South had released their final rows of ranks and was just beginning to reach the castle walls. His father had to release the next wave of soldiers soon. The Eastern army still had two waves left; they could win this. Clifton turned at the sound of a sword slicing through the air. The Captain of the Southern Army stood before him with a menacing gleam in his eye. Clifton hoisted his sword, the weight of it slamming his shoulder with pain. He blocked the first lunge and felt the scream erupt from his chest as he shoved all his strength into the effort.

  King Eamon spotted his son battling the Captain. He realized then the South had fully immersed their forces into the battle. No reserve guards awaited beyond the hills. Prince Eric’s full force had been released. He waved his sword at his Captain who then rushed out of the Eastern gates with a second wave of soldiers on horseback. Eyes widened at the sight of the mighty wave of blue tunics that flooded the fields. Black tunics began to retreat quickly, realizing they were outnumbered.

  Clifton landed a hard kick into the Captain’s stomach as he pushed off and away from his attacker. He felt a blow to the face, a strong fist cracking his nose. His vision blurred, and he felt his steps falter as blood poured out of his nose and into his mouth. The lead taste of his blood sobered his wishful thoughts of victory. He fell to his knees as every ache and pain radiated through his body. He caught the menacing glare of the Southern Guard’s Captain and braced himself for the pain. He watched the sun glisten off the blade and the air stilled. All he could hear was the drumming of his own heart and the ragged breaths that struggled to escape his bruised lungs.

  “It has been a pleasure, Prince Clifton.” The Captain sneered as he brought down his blade.

  King Eamon raced forward; his horse leapt over bodies strayed amidst the landscape. Hooves pounded in the earth dampened by blood. Eamon carried his sword firmly in his right hand as he held the reins in his left. He stood in his stirrups as he brought back his arm. He would not lose his son, he thought. He would not. Screaming at his horse to move faster, he readjusted his grip on his sword.

  The Captain turned in just enough time to meet the fury behind King Eamon’s blue eyes as his sword swiped through the air and decapitated the man where he stood. The body lingered erect a few seconds before the extremities fell to the ground in the wake of Eamon’s wrath. He dismounted quickly running and sliding to his knees before Clifton, the mud and blood surrounding them staining his uniform. He hoisted his son’s arms over his shoulders and lifted him to drape over his horse. He pressed two fingers to his son’s neck and felt a steady pulse and sighed in relief as his son’s blood stained his fingers. He watched as the remaining black tunics were driven back into retreat. He mounted into his saddle and quickly galloped within the castle gates.

  “See to my son!” He ordered. Attendants lowered Clifton carefully and carried him by the shoulders and feet into the castle. Eamon swiped a hand over his grimy face as he surveyed his unconscious son and the wake of destruction that scattered around his kingdom.

  “My Lord,” his captain stepped through the main entrance. “All h
ave retreated, your Grace. The South has fallen back. The Renaldi’s failed.”

  “Good.” King Eamon stated, his gaze not leaving his son’s beaten body. “We must regroup quickly. Leave one wave of guards here to protect the kingdom from a second assault should the South attempt. The rest leave with us as soon as the prince awakens. We travel to the North immediately.”

  “Yes, my Lord.” The captain bowed and quickly exited.

  A slow groan emerged from the room to his right and he walked in to find Clifton sitting up and holding a damp cloth to his nose. His gaze lifted at his father’s entrance and relief flooded Clifton’s heart. Eamon smiled and rushed forward to hug him. “You had me scared, Cliff.”

  “Aye… sorry Father. I could not see anything but stars after his last blow.”

  “Aye, well you are safe now. Unfortunately, we must ride north. You able to ride?”

  “Yes.” Clifton answered. He then began to hoist himself off the table grimacing when he pressed weight upon his right arm.

  “You are hurt, Cliff?” Eamon asked and swiftly ran his fingers over his son’s shoulder. Clifton groaned when his father’s fingers found the wound from the arrow.

  “This is not good, Cliff. You cannot fight with this.”

  “Yes, I can.” Clifton stated firmly as he continued slipping to his feet. “We go north.”

  “Cliff—”

  “We go north!” He bellowed as he waved for an attendant to find his horse. “I will not let Prince Eric take Elizabeth, Father. I will not.” Eamon caught the stormy green eyes of his son and the fears lurking behind them and nodded.

  “Then we ride.”

  Nodding in agreement, the two men hurried outside, Eamon keeping a close eye on his son as he continued to struggle to find his footing. Once their horses arrived, Clifton mounted easily and waited for his father to do the same.

  Clifton held the reins in his left hand to ease the strain on his injured right arm and kicked in his heels. The sound of hooves carried him onward as he thought of Elizabeth and the Southern Kingdom advancing upon the North. Sending up a silent plea, he hurried to the North’s aide.

  ∞

  Alayna rushed through the castle. Swinging the door open to Elizabeth’s chamber, she searched her room. Blowing an exasperated breath, she turned to rush back down the stairwell. Samuel met her at the bottom eagerly wishing to help. “May I aide in your search, Princess? Do you seek someone?”

  “My sister, Prince Samuel. Have you seen her?”

  “No, my lady, but I saw her attendant in the conservatory with Princess Melody.”

  “Ah, perfect. Thank you. Come with me, I may have a task for you shortly.”

  “Yes, my lady.’

  Alayna rushed into the conservatory and found Mary bustling around with Renee and Gretchen in preparations of the nightly meal. “Mary, where is my sister?” Her voice rang out as she swished into the room. Melody’s head snapped up at her entrance and all eyes gazed upon Alayna’s fierce stance.

  “My lady?” Mary asked.

  “Princess Elizabeth. Where is she?”

  “Oh.” Mary’s eyes dropped, and Alayna immediately knew. “She left didn’t she?!”

  Melody hopped to her feet. “Your Grace, my brother is with her. He has been asked to stay close to the princess. You can trust she will be safe.”

  Alayna took a deep breath as her cheeks darkened. “Prince Samuel, find me Prince Ryle immediately.”

  “Yes, my lady.” Samuel rushed out of the room. “Mary, I am disappointed in you for allowing Elizabeth to leave. You knew the requests of my father and Prince Ryle. She was to stay within the castle.”

  Mary’s eyes clouded with unshed tears at the scolding and nodded.

  “I must share this news with my father now.” Alayna mumbled as she turned to leave. She worried her hand over her brow as she walked up the stairwell towards her father’s chambers. She heard a loud bang as the front doors of the castle flew open and hit the stone wall in their wake and Prince Ryle stepped inside, his eyes immediately seeking her out. He made his way to her in haste, Samuel following obediently behind him.

  “My Queen,” he began, “Samuel tells me the princess is missing.” He stood at the ready, hand on the hilt of his sword, feet posed on the steps to dart either direction at any moment. He took heavy breaths as he tried to regain his breath after such a brisk pace to find her. Alayna nodded solemnly. “I fear, Prince Ryle, that my sister has coerced Prince Isaac to take her to the boundary line.”

  “I will find her. Samuel will show me.” He looked to the boy for confirmation and Samuel nodded emphatically.

  Alayna’s gaze dropped for a brief moment and she glanced out the open doors.

  “My Lady? Is something wrong?” Ryle asked quietly, lightly reaching for her hand.

  She withdrew it quickly and rolled her shoulders back. “No. I am… I am just frustrated, my Lord. Your place is here at the castle and I now have to shift guards around all because my defiant little sister has disobeyed my father’s orders.” A sadness held in her eyes, but her words were forceful.

  “I will make swift work of recovering the princess, Alayna,” he stated quietly so his lack of formality did not drift to the attendants. “I will make sure she and Prince Isaac return so that we can fortify the grounds. There is movement in the East and I fear we will have our hands full come nightfall.”

  Alayna nodded soberly. “Then go, find my sister and Prince Isaac. I will share the news with my father.”

  Ryle nodded and turned Samuel’s shoulder to walk with him as he left. Alayna watched him cover the stairs and the main entrance in long, confident strides. She heard him yelling orders as soon as he stepped foot outside and she smiled at his efficiency. He would be a fine Captain of the Guard, she thought. As she reached the top of the stairs, King Granton stood on the landing overlooking the main hall.

  “Father, I did not realize you were up and about.”

  King Granton leaned heavily on the banister, his mobility sluggish and his shoulders slumped. “Father? Are you feeling okay?” Alayna placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

  “I heard your conversation with Ryle. I am disappointed in Elizabeth, but at the same time…” his voice trailed off as Alayna saw a deep sadness in his pale blue eyes. His hand clutched a piece of parchment. “Father?” Alayna surveyed him closely, concern etching her brow as she began escorting him back towards his chambers.

  Once inside, she eased him into a comfortable chair and propped his feet upon a stool. “Tomas, please fetch some water for the king.” Tomas bowed and whisked quietly away.

  “I was such a fool, Alayna.” Granton mumbled.

  “I’m sorry?” She asked, unsure if she had heard her father correctly.

  “A fool. Your brother. Edward.” He shook his head in dismay. “My boy.”

  “Father, I am afraid I am not following you.”

  Sighing, Granton reached for Elizabeth’s wooden box and held up a handful of letters. “Edward’s letters to Elizabeth. I’ve been reading them.”

  “Father, perhaps you should set those aside for the time being and not think on matters that might upset you.” Alayna recommended as she brought a blanket over his legs.

  “No, I must read them. Your brother is a good man. Selfless, loyal, and brave. I was a fool to push him away like I did.”

  “You did not push him away, Father. Edward made his own choice to cross the boundary.”

  “Imagine if he were here with us now, Alayna. What a leader he would be.”

  Alayna’s eyes slightly clouded at the small blow. She knew her father had not meant the comment to hurt her feelings or undermine her role as future queen, but she feared of disappointing him. She wanted to measure up to the expectations he had set long ago for Edward.

  “Father, Edward is where he needs to be. If he were not in the Land of Unfading Beauty, we would not have the insight we do right now. Every choice, every action has led us to this moment.” />
  “Spoken like a true queen.” Granton stated softly and proudly. He lightly squeezed her hand. “Do not be mad at your sister for fleeing to the boundary.”

  “She disobeyed your orders, Father.” Alayna stated with confusion.

  “Yes, but for good reason. I would have done the same thing.” He admitted with a half laugh. “Remember, Alayna, that Elizabeth has a strong will. Remember that.”

  “How could I forget?” Alayna remarked. “She reminds me every day.”

  Chuckling, Granton leaned his head back against the chair and closed his eyes as his chest wheezed with each breath he took. “Never fault her for who she is.” Granton continued. “Her willfulness will be of use soon, I’m afraid.”

  “Father, you are talking in riddles to annoy me.” Reaching for the blanket’s corners, she adjusted the fabric over her father’s tired figure.

  “I do not intend to, dear. Just let her be who she is, and you be who you are.”

  “And who might that be?” Alayna asked with a cynical laugh in regard to her own personal frustration.

  “A queen.” Granton responded. “You have always been meant for the role, even before Edward left. You are so much like your mother, Alayna. So strong.” He turned and offered a weak smile. “You and Elizabeth have grown into strong women. I am proud.”

  Alayna glanced at her hands in her lap. “I’m thankful for your confidence Father, but I fear I somewhat question my strength, especially in times like these.”

  “It’s times like these that determine your strength, Alayna. You will handle it well, I know you will. The kingdom trusts you. The Realm trusts your judgment as well. You are supported in whatever decisions you make.”

  “You mean decisions we make.” She corrected him and saw him softly shake his head.

  Tears began to threaten her eyes as she slid to the floor on her knees beside her father. She grabbed his hands in hers and rested her cheek against them. “Do not give in now, Father. Please.” She begged quietly. She felt him rub his hand over her hair.

  “You think I will give in so easily?” She heard the smile in his voice as he spoke. “No, my dear. I still have a little time, but it is your turn to take the lead. Trust your friends. Anthony, Eamon, Ryle, Mosiah. Trust their advice. Lean on their support. Elizabeth, Clifton, Isaac, Melody. Rely on their strengths when needed. You have support, my dear.”