Prince of Alasia (Annals of Alasia Book 1)

by Annie Douglass Lima

  Jaymin had seen people lay their swords at his father’s feet before, symbolizing their loyalty and readiness to serve and fight for the king. But this was the first time it had ever been done for him, and he couldn’t help pausing to savor the moment. It had been weeks since anyone had knelt before him or treated him with any particular respect, and it felt good to be acknowledged for who he was.

  But then he felt ashamed. These brave men had undoubtedly lived in cold and hunger and constant danger ever since the Invasion, much as he had. They had probably seen friends and comrades killed, perhaps even been wounded themselves, and they were going to risk their lives to try to help save his kingdom tonight. And here he was making them wait on their knees on the cold dirt while he relished this feeling of royalty.

  Jaymin stooped to pick up the swords, handing them back to their owners one by one. “Please, rise. I don’t blame you for not believing such an unlikely claim at first, and I appreciate your obedience to your orders and your commitment to keeping our military safe.”

  “We’re at your command, Sire. How can we serve you?” the corporal inquired humbly as the three of them rose to their feet, sheathing their weapons.

  Jaymin paused, taken off guard. Sire, like your Majesty, was a title for a king. He had never been called anything but your Highness before. True, he would probably be crowned king soon, assuming his army could defeat Prince Korram tonight. But it was startling, and not entirely comfortable, to hear himself addressed by the title that had always been his father’s. He didn’t deserve that title yet.

  “Sir Edmend and I need to get to General Dirken as quickly as possible,” Jaymin told the soldiers, shaking off the discomfort. “I’d appreciate it if you would escort us to camp now, Corporal, so there won’t be any further delays.”

  The man bowed, his face lighting up at the opportunity to serve his prince. “I would be honored, Sire.”

  “But don’t tell anyone who I am,” Jaymin warned. “Any of you. I’ll introduce myself to the other soldiers when I’m ready.”

  They all promised, and Ossien disappeared into the trees to fetch his horse. Jaymin turned and climbed back onto the cart seat beside Sir Edmend, who was visibly relieved at how things had turned out.

  On horseback now, Corporal Ossien led the way down the narrow track, the cart bumping along behind him. After they had rounded a bend and could no longer see the other two soldiers, Erik appeared silently from out of the trees and hopped up onto the seat without a word, settling himself beside Jaymin.

  “The army camp is only a mile or so from here, your Highness,” began Ossien, half turning in his saddle. “We’ll be there in –” He broke off, catching sight of Erik, and instinctively his hand flew to his sword hilt.

  “It’s all right, Corporal,” Jaymin hastened to assure him, seeing the man about to wheel his horse around and come charging back to defend the prince from the unexpected intruder. “This is a friend of mine.”

  The soldier paused, and his mouth opened to speak, but then he closed it again and bowed from the saddle. He must have been dying to ask where Erik had come from and how he had escaped the sentries’ notice, but he said only, “If you say so, your Highness.”

  Erik gave him his best innocent little boy smile.

  “In any case, Sire, we’ll be there in a few more minutes,” Corporal Ossien added.

  “Good.” Finally, Jaymin thought.

  With one more puzzled glance at Erik, the man turned again and led them on into the darkness. Toward the army camp. Toward General Dirken. Toward the soldiers Jaymin hoped to inspire and the events that could lead to the restoration of his kingdom. Or to its complete destruction.

  Chapter 14

  It wasn’t long before Jaymin glimpsed the flicker of firelight through the trees ahead. As they drew nearer, he began to make out the shapes of tents, and they were soon close enough to see that there were perhaps sixty or seventy of them pitched in a large muddy clearing. Campfires flickered in several places, surrounded by clusters of soldiers warming themselves. Thin patches of snow gleamed here and there in the firelight, through most of it had been shoveled away into dirty drifts beneath the surrounding trees. Horses stood to one side in a long row of makeshift stalls, and a couple of simple wooden huts apparently served as storage places for weapons or supplies.

  “We call this Camp One,” Sir Edmend explained in a low voice as they approached. “There are three others within a radius of about a mile and a half. Not exactly well-equipped barracks, but the Malornians haven’t found them, and that’s the important thing.”

  “I see the troops haven’t left yet,” Jaymin observed with relief. “General Dirken must have decided to wait for us after all.”

  As they neared the edge of the clearing, another soldier strode over to meet them, looking noticeably more relaxed than any they had yet seen. Perhaps he assumed – with good reason – that no enemy was likely to make it this far, and that even if one did, the safety of the Alasian army didn’t rest solely on his shoulders.

  As they drew close, Corporal Ossien swung out of his saddle and addressed the approaching soldier. “Sir Edmend and – and his friends here need to see General Dirken. Apparently he’s expecting them; could you let him know they’ve arrived?”

  “Of course.” The man grinned, his face lighting up in recognition. “Welcome back, sir. Are you bringing us more food?”

  “Right away,” Ossien prompted, and the man nodded and ran off toward the tents.

  Sir Edmend, Jaymin and Erik climbed down from the cart, and Jaymin stretched gratefully, relieved to be off of that hard seat and on his own feet once more. Ossien stood protectively nearby, not saying anything, but looking warily around much as Erik was doing. He was obviously sobered at the idea that, at least for the moment, the Prince of Alasia was in his charge.

  In a moment the other soldier was back, followed by a young page boy.

  “The general is eager to see you,” the soldier announced. “Rennie here will bring you to him. I’ve been asked to take care of your horses and the supplies.” Sir Edmend nodded and handed the reins to the man.

  Erik was careful to stand in front of Jaymin as the page, a boy of about their own age, approached. He gave them a curious glance but addressed Sir Edmend. “The general told me to bring you the long way around. Follow me, please, sir.”

  Jaymin nodded his thanks to Corporal Ossien before turning to follow the boy through the trees around the edge of the camp. The tents to their right flapped in the night breeze, and the low voices of the men around the fires drifted to their ears as they passed. Jaymin noticed that like those in the forest, the soldiers all seemed to be thin and haggard-looking. Unlike the ones they had seen earlier, though, these were in uniform, and some were sharpening swords. It was hard to tell at this distance, but from their voices and posture Jaymin thought they looked eager, restless, a little edgy. No doubt they were discussing the coming battle and wondering what the next few hours might bring.

  Rennie led them about halfway round the clearing and then into it. Jaymin kept his head down and let Erik walk between him and the soldiers, as they passed a dozen men warming their hands around one of the crackling campfires. Finally they stopped before a large tent that had been set apart from the others. Rennie pulled the canvas flap back a little and spoke through the crack. “General, your visitors are here.”

  “Send them in,” came the reply. The boy opened the flap wide and gestured for them to enter.

  Jaymin lifted his head and straightened his shoulders, putting on what Erik liked to call his princely look, and then stepped inside.

  The inside of the tent was lit by a small lantern hanging from a pole above them. Against the tent’s far side stood a neatly-made cot with a wooden trunk beneath it. Before them, several camp chairs were drawn up around a low table on which a map of Alasia had been spread out.

  As they entered, General Dirken rose from one of the chairs. He was a tall man, with stern features and sho
rt dark hair fading to gray around the temples, his plain green uniform accented only by the gold general’s pin at his collar. His face was lined with the solemn responsibility of one who knows his decisions will affect the lives of thousands.

  With two swift strides, the general crossed the floor to where his guests waited. Sir Edmend and Erik had stepped back to either side, and Jaymin stood between them with the same regal bearing he would have worn in the royal audience chambers back in the palace.

  The general took Jaymin’s hand in both of his and dropped to one knee before him, his dark eyes full of emotion. “My Prince,” he whispered. “I cannot tell you what a great gift it is to see you alive. The whole future of Alasia gleams brighter now, even in this dark hour.”

  “Thank you, General,” Jaymin replied simply, gesturing for him to rise. “I must tell you that when Sir Edmend told me that you were alive and in command of the army, a great load was lifted from my mind. I know that if anyone can lead our troops to victory tonight, it will be you.”

  A shadow seemed to cross the general’s face as he stood once more, releasing Jaymin’s hand. “I am honored at your Highness’ faith in me,” he replied, his voice suddenly weary, “but the situation has just become more complicated. I do not think we should attack tonight after all.”

  “What do you mean?” Jaymin demanded, startled. “What’s happened?”

  “I have just received some alarming news, your Highness.” The general gestured to the back of the tent, where they now saw a man dressed in plain clothes, his face pale and his mouth hanging open, sitting stiffly in the shadows behind the table. He looked as though he couldn’t decide whether to believe his eyes and ears or not. “Private Dannel, come here.”

  Slowly, the man rose to his feet and stepped around the table toward them. He glanced up at the officer as though for confirmation that this was really happening.

  “Dannel is one of my agents,” the general continued, ignoring the man’s hesitation. “He has been serving as a spy for me in Almar, and just a few minutes ago he returned with some news that may change everything.”

  Dannel stood uncertainly before them, staring at Jaymin. “C-can it really be you?” he whispered in awe. “They said you’d been killed.” He looked as though he wasn’t sure whether to salute, bow, or kneel as General Dirken had done.

  “I am Prince Jaymin,” Jaymin confirmed with a smile. After so many weeks of hiding his identity, it felt good to say those words for the second time that evening.

  Trembling, the man sank to his knees, his face radiant. “Oh … your Highness … how can I ever say what a joy this is! To think that you’re alive after all, and I’m meeting you in person! Your Highness, I – I – I’m at your service!”

  “Thank you, Dannel,” Jaymin replied, inclining his head regally. “I accept your service in the form of your word that you won’t tell anyone about me. I don’t want anyone else to know I am alive yet.”

  “You have my word, your Highness,” the man promised eagerly. “If there’s anything else I can do, you have only to say so.”

  Jaymin nodded. “I will keep that in mind. In the meantime, you may rise.” He glanced at General Dirken. “I’m eager to hear this news, General. Suppose we all sit down, and Dannel can tell us whatever it is he told you.”

  The general and Dannel pulled out chairs for Jaymin and Sir Edmend, and they all took a seat, except for Erik, who remained standing silently just inside the tent entrance.

  Dannel still looked as though he couldn’t believe this was really happening, but at a stern glance from the general, he managed to collect his wits enough to speak coherently.

  “I – I’ve just come from Almar, your Highness, where I was trying to find out what I could about the Malornians’ plans. I’ve been back and forth several times since the Invasion. Sometimes I pretend to be one of their soldiers – people say I do the accent really well – and a couple of times I’ve even gotten into the palace and their barracks. They’ve never once suspected I wasn’t one of them,” he added with pride.

  “Just tell the prince what you found out, soldier,” the general ordered sharply. “We haven’t got all night.”

  “Yes sir. Well, to make a long story short, your Highness, I found out that the Malornians know about our plans. They’re expecting our surprise attack tonight, and they’ve planned an ambush.”

  Beside him, Sir Edmend drew in his breath. Jaymin suddenly felt cold all over. “They still have spies among our troops,” he breathed. Of course. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but somehow it had.

  The general nodded grimly. “No doubt. The question is, what do we do now?”

  Jaymin closed his eyes for a moment and took a slow breath, focusing his mind. As part of his royal training, he had joined in dozens of strategy meetings with his father, the Council of Advisors, and various military officers, including General Dirken himself a few times. But his father was gone, the Council of Advisors had been scattered, and most of the officers were dead too. Now it was up to him, the general, and Sir Edmend to make the crucial decisions. He opened his eyes again.

  “First, we had better postpone tonight’s attack. Then we have to find out who the spies are.”

  The general nodded again. “I agree. However, all the troops are prepared to attack now. They’ve already been waiting longer than planned, though I’m thankful for the delay, since otherwise we might all be marching to our deaths tonight. But if we suddenly announce a change of plans, the spy or spies will guess that we’ve found out what they are doing.”

  “And we can’t have that,” Sir Edmend agreed worriedly. “If we’re going to catch them, we don’t want them suspecting that we know about them just yet.”

  “Could we come up with some other excuse for postponing the attack?” Jaymin wondered.

  “Such as?”

  “Wh-what if you tell them it has something to do with the prince reappearing,” suggested Dannel hesitantly. He faltered when everyone turned to look at him, but seemed to gather himself and went on. “Maybe you could tell everyone that now that Prince Jaymin has shown up, he has a better plan; one that will take a few days to get ready. That would give you time to find the spies and decide what to do.”

  “Stick to your spying, soldier, and leave the decision making to those who understand such things,” snapped General Dirken in a withering tone. “Telling everyone that Prince Jaymin is here is the last thing we want to do now.”

  Dannel cringed at the rebuke, but Jaymin nodded in agreement. “We don’t want the Malornians knowing I’m here, and since we don’t know which of our soldiers we can trust, it would be unwise to tell any of them.”

  “Very unwise,” muttered Sir Edmend. “We’ll have to change that part of the plan, too.”

  “Perhaps, General,” began Jaymin thoughtfully, “you could make it seem that you had never actually intended to attack Almar tonight at all. Maybe it was a drill or a test to see if our troops could be ready for such a thing, but really you had a different plan in mind all along.”

  They digested this in silence for a moment, and General Dirken nodded slowly. “That could work, except for the minor detail about actually having another plan.”

  “Excuse me, gentlemen,” broke in Erik from his position by the tent’s entrance, “but several people are approaching.”

  Everyone looked up, and General Dirken rose from his seat. Nearby, the clop-clop of horses’ hooves on the frozen ground and the quick thud of two or three pairs of feet could be heard. From outside, Rennie’s voice called, “General?”

  “Excuse me a moment, your Highness,” the general murmured with a frown. Jaymin nodded, and Erik slipped out of the way as Dirken strode toward the entrance, opening the flap just wide enough to step outside before sealing it behind himself.

  “What is it? I told you I did not want to be disturbed,” they heard him bark.

  “I know, sir,” began the page apologetically, “but these men insisted they had to see yo
u at once.”

  “General,” a man’s voice broke in urgently. “We’re from Camp Four – you know, the easternmost one –”

  “I know where Camp Four is, soldier,” retorted the general irritably. “What is it you want?”

  “Sir, the two of us were on patrol by the eastern edge of the forest this evening, and we saw an army on its way. Five hundred horsemen at least, riding into Alasia from Malorn!”

  Inside the tent, Jaymin and Sir Edmend exchanged a look of alarm. As if they didn’t have enough problems already, now an extra Malornian army was headed toward them?”

  “How far away?” they heard the general demand.

  “When we saw them, sir, they were maybe five miles from the forest’s edge, which makes it about thirty miles from here. But that was hours ago, sir. We rode back as hard as we could to bring the news, but it’s slow going through the forest in the dark, sir. When we got to our camp, Captain Tarl sent us to tell you.”

  “I see. In which direction was this army heading? Toward Almar?”

  “No, sir, toward the forest. Toward us.”

  General Dirken was silent a moment. Then, “Good work, soldiers. Wait over there by the fire for now, but don’t mention this to anyone else. I’ll send for you if I need to speak with you later. Rennie, get them something to eat and see to their horses. Dismissed.”

  He stooped to reenter the tent. “You heard?”

  “Yes.” Jaymin knew his own expression must be as grave as the general’s. “The situation seems to be getting worse by the minute.”

  “At least now you have your excuse to cancel tonight’s attack,” murmured Dannel from his corner.

  The general glanced at him sharply. “We have no further need of your services for now, soldier. I’ll see you receive the usual payment later, but in the meantime, you may wait out by the fire with the others. Say nothing to them of any of this.”