The Battle for Princess Madeline

by Kirstin Pulioff

  The castle of Soron was a bright beacon. Its tall towers, thick walls, and fluttering banners marked the horizon, both welcoming and warning its visitors. Slowly it grew from a speck in the distance to a monument that loomed in front of them.

  Elias exhaled and pulled his lips tight. Raising his arm, he motioned for his group to stop. The ground shook below them as a contingent of castle guards approached, their horns blaring and their banners waving in all directions.

  “Hold there!” The lead guard’s voice boomed. His horse snorted, prancing in place as the reins were pulled tight.

  The other guards kept a careful eye on the wizards, pointing the tips of their swords at anyone made a sharp movement. Whispers of treason and years of wild speculation governed the guard’s thoughts.

  The leader dismounted his horse and approached Elias, giving him a wide berth as he circled around him.

  “I didn’t expect to see you again, old greenrobe,” the guard sneered with contempt. “What business have you here?”

  “We request an audience with the king,” Elias said.

  “Oh, the king will want to see you,” the guard said, the corners of his mouth turning upwards as he remounted his horse.

  The other guards led the six wizards to the castle walls. Their horse’s hooves echoed off the hard cobblestones at the castle entrance, announcing their arrival. Stares greeted them. The anger, curiosity, and fear in the people’s eyes left a heaviness on Elias’s heart as he watched a child peek from behind her mother’s back.

  You could cut this tension with a sword, Emmett thought.

  The soldiers led them up the cobblestone pathway through the square and up to the castle gates. Elias pressed on, keeping his head high and strong. His shoulders had always borne the weight of leadership, even in his younger years as an apprentice. His natural skills developed early and he surpassed his peers, earning a position of power at a young age. In time he became the king’s advisor. After the exile, his responsibility grew greater.

  Although he had prepared for it, the reality of the scorn directed at his people felt almost unbearable. They hid their faces deep inside their green hoods, hoping to escape scrutiny. Pressing forward, step after step, they made their way to the main castle square. Word of their arrival had spread, and hundreds of faces crowded around them, trying to catch a glimpse of the wizards. It wasn’t long before King Theodore emerged.

  His red face spoke louder than any words could. This was not a friendly meeting. His stewards gave him plenty of space, stepping back as he bellowed his orders.

  “Seize them at once!” he yelled. The sneer that appeared on his face cut deeper than the anger in his voice. In that moment, recognizing the pleasure the king took in his command, Elias knew he had his work cut out for him.

  “Theodore, wait,” Elias yelled, his voice strong.

  King Theodore stopped in his tracks. The crowd did not know where to look; even Elias’s group averted their eyes.

  “Guards,” King Theodore said, straining his voice to stay calm. “Please remind these people who I am as you take them to the dungeon.”

  He stepped forward to enter the castle, and his knights closed in on the wizards.

  Elias knelt and bowed his head low. “King Theodore, great leader of the western lands, please hear me out.” His plea hung high in the air. King Theodore paused for a moment, then continued to walk away, not looking behind him as the doors shut.

  The six visitors kept their heads bowed as the knights clamped chains around their wrists and led them away into the depths of the castle.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The first step into the dungeon was the worst. The foul air that greeted them nearly knocked Emmett out. The old catacombs that had been repurposed into the king’s dungeon brought back many memories. As Elias smelled the air, a smoky scent transported him back seventeen years.

  This is where the wizards had trained, studied, become who they needed to be. Bright memories of potions, books, late nights, and excitement raced through Elias’s mind. He let out a deep breath and sighed. All the bright, bubbly memories of the past faded, enveloped by the gray haze of disuse and dust.

  There was little time to soak it all in. The guards removed the thick cuffs that left angry red marks on the prisoners’ skin and slammed the door to their cell. Emmett and his family crouched against the back wall, trying to calm their mother’s flood of tears. Her body curled into a ball in his father’s arms.

  Her soft wails struck Elias’s heart. He turned, wanting to reassure them. A new sound filled the air. Laughter. The strange cackle echoed off the walls, coming closer. Heavy footfalls signaled someone’s approach. Elias’s heart felt heavy.

  “Elias,” a voice echoed from around the corner.

  Elias raised his head. “My king,” he responded, kneeling on the cobblestone floor. Emmett’s family glanced at the empty doorway, then at Elias. Emmett’s mother quieted her tears, and the men knelt around her.

  “You old fool,” the king hissed, rounding the corner. “I knew you couldn’t stay away.” His eyes betrayed malice and amusement. He rubbed his beard, then leaned over and whispered something to the guard.

  The guard’s eyes opened wider as he held out the ring of keys. The wizards watched in bewilderment. Surprise and fear glistened in their eyes, hope throbbing in their chests.

  “Get up, Elias!” King Theodore snapped, turning his back on the cell. “You can leave us,” he said to the guard.

  The guard bowed his head. “Yes, Your Majesty.” He slipped out.

  “Well, well, well,” the king said, pacing back and forth, twirling the keys around his fingers. “I spared your life once and swore I’d never do it again.” He stopped for a moment to stare at Elias, his face red, eyes tense. “Why have you broken our truce and returned to my kingdom? What is so important that you risk your life and the lives of your people? What excuse do you think will change my mind?”

  Silence echoed between them as Elias looked up, formulating his response, feeling the weight of everyone’s eyes on him. He hoped their faith in him was not misplaced. Wrapping his fingers around the iron bars of the cell, he looked into the king’s eyes.

  “Eleanor,” he said.

  In a single moment, Elias watched the king’s face flicker from anger to pain, sorrow, and confusion.

  “Eleanor?” the king repeated, steeling his gaze. “You came here for my wife? You’re a bit late for that.”

  “She was my niece as well as your wife. You must know the truth.” Elias held out his arms in a pleading gesture. “Theodore, please. Hear me out. I can show you something to ease your mind.”

  The king’s back stiffened. “Again, kinsman,” he sneered, “you remind me of your relationship to Eleanor. Let me remind you of something: She was my life. You let my beloved die. Seventeen years is not nearly enough time to cool my anger.”

  He let out a ragged breath and moved closer to the cell. “I will give you one more chance. Tell me why I should listen.” He turned the key in the door. The cell opened with a loud clank.

  Elias stepped forward and looked back to the other wizards. He smiled warmly and touched the bars. “I will be back soon,” he said, his words calming the fear in their eyes. The king blocked the others from leaving and closed the door.

  “All right, Elias,” the king said. “Show me what you will. I have already given you more time than I had planned. I have other matters to attend to.”

  “It’s in her tower,” Elias said simply.

  They walked from the dungeon to the tower, taking the underground corridors to avoid being seen. Icy silence stood between them like a wall.

  Elias felt tears well up in his eyes when they reached the base of the tower, memories of his love for Eleanor rushing into his mind and heart.

  “This is Madeline’s room now,” King Theodore said, and a slow smile appeared on Elias’s face.

  They climbed quickly, Elias sure that the king’s patience was wearing thin. It h
ad always been in short supply, and he didn’t imagine it had grown any while he had been exiled.

  The room had stayed much the same. Princess Madeline kept the bed in the same position, only adding a few of her pink and rose pillows. The side table that had once been empty now overflowed with personal items—a mirror, a couple of books, a carved bird, and a green shell necklace. A large stool sat below the window, which boasted a panoramic view of the village, forest, and the far-off Dragon’s Gate. An empty room kept as a tribute to Eleanor had blossomed into life under Madeline’s care.

  Elias wandered through the room, lost in his own thoughts—happy, wonderful memories of himself and Eleanor. With a deep sigh and a full heart, he sat back on the edge of the bed. He closed his eyes and pointed behind the chamber’s entrance.

  “Over there. There should be a loose block about knee-high from the floor.”

  King Theodore raised his eyebrows as he walked over to the doorway. Bending over, he brushed his fingertips over each stone. He jumped back as sand crumbled to the ground and a stone moved under his touch.

  “Open it, my King. The proof you seek is inside.” Elias waved his hand but stayed seated, pulling a roll of parchment out from under the cascading sleeves of his robe.

  The king didn’t hesitate. His hands moved with an urgency they hadn’t known in years. The stone moved aside easily, an audible click sounding as the seal broke and a hidden compartment appeared in the darkness. He pulled out an aged leather package marked with Eleanor’s seal and stifled a gasp.

  Shaking, he sat on the floor, pulling the package up to his chest. His lips opened and he savored the remaining smell of Eleanor’s sweet lavender perfume. Whatever it was, she had left it for him to find. He placed the package back on the floor to open it.

  Choking back a sob, King Theodore read aloud, “My beloved husband.” Tears welled in his eyes, heat filling his cheeks as feelings he had long forgotten rose back to the surface. “I had hoped this day would not arrive, but it has. We are coming into an age when the sleeping dragons will awaken. There is only one way I know to protect our children. Please love them, protect them, and prepare them for what is coming. I have loved you without limit. Always, Eleanor.” He lifted the page to his face and sat in silence.

  After a few moments, King Theodore turned his attention to the rest of the package—an encrusted pewter ring and a packet of age-worn papers. He fingered the ring and read the first few pages. Looking sharply up at Elias, he snapped, “How did you know of this?”

  Elias knelt beside the king and rolled out the parchment that had been hidden inside his robe. “She sent me a message as well. I didn’t read it until after you ordered the exile, and then…”

  The majority of the parchment matched what King Theodore held. Word for word, picture for picture, map for map, they were exact duplicates of each other. Elias had a few additional papers that pinpointed where and when to find the king’s copy, including a timeline showing events that had yet to unfold and cryptic references to the Dragon’s Age.

  “My King,” Elias whispered. “We haven’t much time. If these are correct, the time of the dragons is near.”

  “Yes,” the king agreed, packing the materials together and standing. “We must warn Braden and Madeline. We can review these later.”

  He stretched his arm out in response. Elias clasped the king’s arm in a knight’s greeting. The green in his robe brightened as they turned to descend the stairs.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  A buzz of anticipation hung in the air the week before the fall festival. Farmers rushed to ensure their final harvest schedules were aligned. Flowers and autumn bouquets hung from the shop windows, tempting the visitors. Bakeries filled the streets with the sweet aroma of freshly baked pastries to tease every sense.

  The best part, Princess Madeline believed, was the harvest break. Studying and training always paused for several weeks to allow students, apprentices, and workers to help with the final harvest and preparations for winter. The younger knights assisted as well, their normal training duties cut in half. That freed up time for Madeline and Daniel to spend together.

  The interior of the courtyard rang out with laughter as the children made off with all the sweets they could take. Loaves of bread and stems of flowers littered the streets behind the streams of giggling little ones. A few knight apprentices were in the corner showing young boys how to sword fight with sticks, jumping in and around the hay bales.

  Having been released soon after King Theodore and Elias returned from the tower’, Emmett and his family sat on the sidelines, watching the courtyard with wide eyes. Emmett tried to figure out how he might join in.

  Princess Madeline basked in the sun. The weather had begun to change, and the air felt chilly whenever a breeze swept through the courtyard. But when the air stilled, the sun shone through her red velvet dress. Bluebirds chirped in the fountain beside her, enjoying an afternoon of splashing.

  For a moment, they looked like a happy group. Princess Madeline leaned back into Daniel’s chest. Sophia and Prince Braden were standing nearby, their hands close together, laughing at the frolicking birds. All was well until Braden brought up Madeline’s studies and their argument began again.

  “I still don’t see your point, Braden,” Madeline sighed. “If we’re at war and you have your men lined up, do you attack or wait?” She sat up straight and crossed her arms.

  They had been arguing for weeks.

  Braden shook his head. “Madeline, I think you’re taking your lessons too seriously,” he said. “If the castle were surrounded, there are a couple of options. The king can demand a one-on-one duel to decide the outcome, the army can attack, or you can wait it out. In fall or winter, we’d wait it out. It’s much tougher for the attackers to survive on the outside than for us to get by on the inside.”

  “But—” she protested, rubbing her temples.

  “Madeline,” Daniel jumped in. “It’s much too nice of a day to worry about such things. That is what the knights are for, and we’re always training for new situations.”

  Madeline pouted. “I understand that, but it doesn’t feel like that’s the right answer. I feel like my dreams are saying something different, like something new needs to be tried,” she said, hands on her hips, eyebrows scrunched up.

  “This is about dreams?” Braden asked, annoyance clear in his voice. “What kind of dreams?”

  “Bad ones,” Madeline said, looking up at her brother. “I’ve been having them for months now, ever since the summer. They feel so real…” her voice trailed off. “They’re more than just dreams.”

  Daniel took her hand in his and rubbed his strong arms over hers in reassurance.

  “It always starts the same way. I’m surrounded by white fog. I can’t see anything, and yet I feel safe. I don’t feel alone… sometimes I wander, trying to find a way out, and at other times I am guided. One thing is always the same, though—we have been attacked. As hard as it is to believe, in every dream we have been attacked and I have to react. It doesn’t seem like these options we have been talking about will work. They’re certainly not easing my mind. We’ve been learning about these battle strategies, and I’m just trying to find a way to solve my dream. I know it’s silly.”

  “Well,” Sophia chimed in, “what’s silly is worrying about this. It’s just a dream. We all have bad dreams sometimes. There’s nothing to worry about. As you’ve always pointed out, King Theodore is a wonderful leader. He’ll know how to act. He has a team of scholars at his right hand to create new strategies, the most gifted and loyal knights in the world, a kingdom of supporters, and a brave and charming prince.” She smiled at Braden, who winked back. “Bravery and courage are in abundance. If anything, it is your lack of confidence that we should concern ourselves with.”

  Everyone stared at her. She continued, “Here we are on such a wonderful, clear fall day, and you’re intent on spoiling it for the rest of us. Stop being so self-absorbed and open your eye
s.” Sophia stopped and covered her mouth, surprised at what she had said.

  The group was speechless. Braden and Daniel looked at each other and tried not to laugh, while Madeline’s cheeks grew red.

  “I’m sorry, Madel—” Sophia began.

  “No, please don’t apologize for speaking the truth,” Madeline told her. “You’re right, I do need to let this go. I’m worrying over a dream. Now,” she said, glancing over at Daniel, then back to her friend. “Do you want to help me finalize some plans for the wedding?”

  “Yes!” Sophia squealed, a smile exploding on her face.

  The girls were safely secluded on one side of the fountain, giggling. Madeline’s red dress and Sophia’s flaming hair reflected off the fountain’s surface, as bright as the banners of Soron. Their heads stayed close together, keeping their secrets hidden as they stole quick glances at Daniel and Braden.

  The men had joined the sword-fighting knights. Daniel jumped on the bales, sending the kids roaring with laughter while Braden stood to the side.

  King Theodore and Elias stood watching the group, knowing what they were about to stir up. Elias caught the eyes of the wizards sitting in the corner. A wave of relief flowed over him as he noted their ease.

  With a sigh, Elias looked at Madeline and Braden and nodded to the king. King Theodore’s smile faded as he approached the group, severity in his eyes. Braden saw them first and noticed the formality.

  Standing and adjusting his shirt, he addressed Theodore. “Father, what is it? What’s wrong?”

  “Elias?” Daniel asked, recognizing the man who had helped him on his quest to rescue Madeline. “What are you doing here? I thought you were…”

  “Exiled,” the king said, finishing his sentence. “Yes, he is, but for now we are working together on a special matter.” He looked around at all of them and continued. “Braden, Madeline, I am sorry for interrupting, but there is a troubling matter we must discuss. To my study, please.”