Author Note: Just want everyone to have some warning about this chapter: it's kind of long. It's also very different from all of them up until now, and I'm personally really excited about it. It may feel rushed in a couple places, but that's because I wanted to keep this whole event to one chapter, and perhaps later I'll expand it and make it its own story.
Also, in case you haven't noticed, all the names I add in that weren't stated in the game are taken from one of my favorite nerdy things. In this particular chapter, Isaac and Garet are borrowed from the Golden Sun games, and Strond is a derivative of Sturmhond from the Shadow and Bone trilogy.
I hope you enjoy this chapter! It was a really fun one to write.
King Albert stood over a long table displaying a sizeable map of Serdio, dotted with green and purple marks. He had always thought it rather silly that the Imperial Sandora should have chosen purple as its colors, but it made no real difference. The map would have looked the same regardless of the colors used: haphazard and dangerous.
He was entirely unsure of how to handle the current situation. Sandora had finally struck them swift and hard in the Battle of Hoax, and although they had not lost the territory, they had lost a great number of men. When the completed list of casualties had returned from the fortified city, Albert had almost been brought to tears. He had commenced immediately with informing families, an act he preferred to do himself when possible, especially if the soldier's commanding officer was not in Bale. He felt that it was important to show each family how much he cared for each soldier and their great loss. He himself fully understood such loss, and struggled daily to protect his people from it.
But the war had raged on for far too long. For the past twenty years, the uneasy peace between Basil and Imperial Sandora had been costing his people dearly, and it had only worsened with the proper declaration of war. The first attack had been on the outlying village of Seles, clearly not a threat and filled only with civilians. The day that news reached him had been a dark one indeed.
Just today, he had received word of the brutal attack on the Seventh Fort. The actual event had occurred two days prior, but it made the news no more comforting to hear. Basil had posted two entire knighthoods in the Seventh Fort, and they had been brushed aside by the dragon as if they were sand before a great wave.
However, in the midst of all the carnage and death, there was one glimmer of hope. Two weeks ago, Albert had received a letter from Hoax describing a most peculiar phenomenon that had occurred during the battle: the man named Dart had sprouted wings and defeated the fearsome giganto of Sandora's army with a fiery magic power. The letter described him as a dragoon, a creature of a legend that Albert knew well. He had been well versed on all the histories of Serdio, even those considered to be little more than myth. The legend of dragoons was a favorite of children across the land, and the stories of their might in battle portrayed in murals throughout the castle. To think that such a being had appeared now, over eleven thousand years after the Dragon Campaign, was a hope too dazzling to really believe.
As such, he had been skeptical for quite some time until several soldiers from Hoax had found their way back to Bale and told him the story themselves. They had seen the entire event take place, and even added details of a second dragoon - this one a woman. He had reeled at this news. Dragoons fighting the wars of men had seemed almost laughable to him, but he had dared to hope that Dart would prove useful in the war.
What truly worried him was the news that he had received about Lavitz. He had fought honorably in the Battle of Hoax, but the letter Albert had received today communicated that he had left with the two dragoons, and the young girl named Shana, to fight against the dragon that had proved so utterly terrifying at the Seventh Fort. He could not imagine that Lavitz would fare well against such a beast, despite his innate battle prowess, and he had begun to worry greatly that something unfortunate would occur. By his estimations, they should arrive in the dragon's nest sometime that day, or maybe even the day before, and the anticipation of what news he may receive about the encounter ate away at him constantly.
The king was entirely unsure why he continued to stare at this ridiculous map. He had thought that studying it may give him some sudden wind of inspiration, but this had proven to be a false pretense. All that he had accomplished was to increase his own anxiety. He pushed away from the table and searched about him.
A guard stood by the door, but his advisors were nowhere in sight. Why had he come here without them? His tactical advisor had left on a scouting mission shortly after they'd received news of the Fort, and Minister Noish had left to attend to his duties in the church. He sighed heavily. Being a busybody would benefit no one.
He strode through the doors and up the stairs to the throne room before turning abruptly and stepping out onto the balcony, his forest green cape billowing behind him as he walked. As he gazed out at the city sprawled beneath him, he tried to find some semblance of peace. He breathed deeply as a breeze played across his face, tousling his long hair. He had braided it today, probably solely for the change in routine. He normally tied it back with a simple green ribbon. Occasionally, he wondered whether he should simply cut it all off, and be done being bothered by it falling into his face, but he always balked at this thought. His father had worn his hair the same way. Somehow he felt closer to him with it like this.
The sun was beginning to lower in the west, and he sighed again. Another day wasted. Another day strolling through the palace while his people gave their lives in battle.
Several times, he had considered riding out with them, but each time, Minister Noish had discouraged the idea. He feared that Albert would be too exposed on the battlefield, and that Emperor Doel would seize the opportunity to kill him. The king had conceded each time, knowing that if he died, little would stand in the way of Doel taking the throne. Without any heirs running about the castle, Doel was next in line.
Frustrated with everything, he turned and walked down the hallway, his boots ringing out soft clicks against the hard stone walls, and eventually turned left. A guard opened a double wooden door, and the king entered his room.
He stepped over to the window overlooking the lake and shut the curtains before sitting at his desk. Parchment was strewn across it in a chaotic mess, and he cringed to see it. How had he let this happen? Was he really so distracted? He stood, hastily gathering the papers into their appropriate stacks and placing them in staggered organizers. With his desk tidied, he found that there was nothing else to do, and he sat down hopelessly.
He stayed there for several minutes before a knock came on his door. One of the maids announced that the dinner was prepared, her voice muffled as it rang through the wood. Albert stood and opened the door, smiling as best he could.
"Thank you so much. Would you mind bringing it up to my room? I would prefer to be alone this evening."
She curtsied briefly before scurrying away down the hall. He shut the door and spun around, searching his room for something to do. His desk sat to the right, covered in stacks of papers with an order known only to him and Minister Noish. An inkwell and quill sat atop it, and several drawers housed fresh parchment and other various utensils. In the corner behind it stood a stately fireplace, currently not in use due to the warmer spring air. The grand room also housed a dresser, a tall mirror, and a four-poster bed covered with soft white linens. The stone walls were bare, save for a few torch sconces. But where his eyes lingered was the bookshelf lining the wall next to his bed, and he drifted toward it, drawing his finger along their spines as he searched for something entertaining. At last, his finger rested on a book of Serdian poetry, and he drew it out and settled into his bed to read.
Only a few pages in, another knock came at the door with an announcement of his dinner. He hastily made his way over and opened it, inviting the maid in to deliver the tray of food. It smelled divine, as his meals always did, and he thanked her warmly before she bowed once more and left.
Removing the covering on the silver tray, he breathed in deeply the scent of duck, potatoes, and carrots. The realization of his hunger spread from his stomach to his neck, and he carried the tray to his bed. He carefully poured a glass of water, set it on the bedside table, and began to eat.
In truth, there was not much to stay his hunger. A few pieces of meat, one potato topped with butter, and some boiled carrots. If he had been so inclined, he could have ordered a feast to his room, but he could not bring himself to truly eat like a king when his people suffered so. Each time he ate, he took a moment to pray to the gods of Serdio for his people's safety and the hurried end to the war.
With the food gone, he removed the tray and set it outside his room, so that the maid may be able to fetch it, before closing and locking the door. Finally alone, he removed the green cape, royal tunic, and leather boots, laying them across his chair and sinking into his bed. A moment later, he was fingering through his book once again.
Poetry had always been intriguing to him. He had always marveled at the way a poet could say the stuff of souls in the words of mortal men, reduce the incomprehensible into something all could understand. He took comfort in the great mystery of Serdio's finest poets that evening, reading the hours away until his worries became little but an ember in the back of his mind.
"Now this is a meal," I said heartily as I sank my teeth into smoked beef. The savory meat filled my mouth, and I closed my eyes, enjoying every twinge of flavor for as long as possible before swallowing. Grinning, I looked across the table.
"You're such an idiot," laughed Garet before forcing a fistful of potatoes into his mouth.
We had been traveling for days in the wilderness, eating nothing but wild game, and at last we had come to a city. We were nestled right up on the edge of the Serdian mountains, only two or three day's ride from Bale, and we had spent an extra three gold apiece to indulge in this divine meal, courtesy of the innkeeper, who - thank the gods - kept a side job as a butcher. His wife was a baker, and together, they made such indulgent delicacies that I didn't understand how more people didn't stop by. But to be fair, I had always been one for food. Anywhere there was a sweet roll, you could find me. If I wasn't running about Serdio or the castle.
"We don't even get beef in the castle," I complained. "You can't tell me that this isn't everything you've ever wanted out of a dinner."
"We get beef on holidays," remarked Garet.
"Yeah, and how many of those are there?"
"Like... eight."
I scoffed away his logic. "The point is, this is amazing, and you should be savoring it more than... that."
Garet took a large strip of beef and forced it into his mouth before saying, "I am feffering it. Iff deliffufs."
This time, I couldn't help but laugh at him. I proceeded to take small bites of my food, trying to ensure that each one was appreciated for its great beauty, until a long minute later when Garet swallowed.
"You're way too into your food, man. If it weren't for long training days, you'd be as fat as a horse."
"But we have long training days, all the time, so I don't see what the problem is."
"Not when we're on assignment. Seriously, Isaac, I think I'm starting to see a bit of pudge under that chin of yours."
"It's your imagination," I said stalwartly. He laughed again.
We stayed the night in the inn before heading out the next morning on the final leg of our journey, but not before paying an entire gold piece for a decadent sweet roll for breakfast.
Having traveled all over Serdio the past several weeks, we were both eager to return to Bale, sleep in our proper beds, and hand in our report. A detailed map full of little dots indicating Sandora's positions rested comfortably in my pocket, ready to deliver to the king. We hadn't even bothered to put on our chain mail, and the bulking satchel containing mine was rubbing uncomfortably against my leg with each step of my horse.
It was just as well. I hated that armor. It bore no color and had the look of lower-quality craftsmanship to better disguise us as we traversed enemy territory. But I preferred to have Basil blue emblazoned across my chest. Every night, I even dared to hope that one day I would wear the forest green that accompanied the rank of captain. Maybe one day, I would even have my own knighthood and be like the great legend Sir Servi.
Garet and I were in higher spirits today, not just because we neared our hometown, but also because of the mere smattering of enemy troops that we were to report to the king. It had brought us hope to see Sandora so depleted. We had even paid a brief visit to Sir Kaiser in Hoax on our way back, and had learned that some mighty hero had not only delivered them from the terrible giganto, but had also gone off to fight the infamous dragon. It seemed that the tide of the war was finally turning.
We chatted happily as we traveled north. A great storm had swept across the land several days before, leaving cooler air behind, and we appreciated the reprieve from the oppressive heat.
About midday, we took a short break, but then we pressed on. Perhaps if we traveled fast enough, we could make it to Bale before noon the next day. The rest of the day passed uneventfully, and we fell into a steady silence until just before nightfall, when we decided to make camp.
"This isn't nearly as good as that beef," I mourned as I bit into the stale trail rations from my pack.
"Want me to go catch you a deer?" offered Garet.
A bark of laughter escaped me. Garet was talented in many ways, but hunting was not one of them. A week ago, he had been exultant in his lucky snag of a tiny rabbit that had fallen into a rather crude trap of his own making. All the food we had eaten on the road had been either bought from a vendor or killed by me.
"I think I would actually starve before you came back with a full deer," I said.
We lit no fire that night, mostly out of laziness. Neither of us felt like gathering firewood, and we out-stubborned each other until we begrudgingly slept with no warmth but that of our blankets in the cool night air. However, I did manage to convince Garet to take first watch, and I drifted soundlessly into sleep.
It was only two hours later when Garet jolted me awake.
"Isaac!" he whispered nervously. "Isaac!"
"What?" I moaned. "It can't be time to switch out yet."
"No, you need to wake up. Something is out there."
This grabbed my attention, and I sat up hazily, rubbing my eyes. "What are you talking about?"
"Look over there." He pointed into the forest, up a hill, and a moment later I saw what he indicated. We were camped right at the foot of the mountains, but above us, I could just make out a glowing orange light. A campfire.
Something sank into my gut like a hard stone. There were no Basil troops in this part of the mountains.
"It's probably just some kids from town," I lied to myself.
"I don't think so," said Garet. "Listen."
I sat carefully still. Night sounds roared around us: crickets, the rustling of wind on the trees, and in the distance, the sounds of hearty conversation and tinkling metal.
"Soa," I breathed before standing. "We have to go see what's going on." I met Garet's gaze, and he nodded.
Exercising every last bit of our survival training, we edged our way up the mountain like ghosts in the night. I was suddenly grateful for the cover of darkness as we crested the hill, two great mountain peaks on either side, forming a gateway into the alpine world. I gasped when I saw what lay in the valley.
It was more than one campfire; it was hundreds. The entire valley, narrow as it was, was filled with tents, horses, and soldiers. Several flags rose high above the encampment - flags bearing the dark purple of Imperial Sandora.
"How many do you think there are?" I asked breathlessly.
"Hundreds... thousands," replied Garet.
"We have to get back to Bale," I said. "Tonight. We can't wait for morning."
"Agreed." I turned from Garet, but he grabbed my arm and whispered, "Wait! Is Doel with them? Can you tell?"
My eyes scanned over the tents, searching for the lightning symbol of the emperor, but it was nowhere to be found. It gave me little comfort.
"I can't see anything, but that doesn't really mean he's not there."
"We can hope," said Garet. "Let's go."
We backed away from the camp, hearts pounding louder than they ever had before. As soon as we reached our meager campsite, we gathered our bedrolls, strapped them to the horses, and headed north.
To stay hidden, we started at a walk until another half mile separated us from the mountains. Then we broke into a gallop. I was grateful, not for the first time, for the bright reflection of the moon overhead. The cloudless sky, still recovering from the onslaught of the storm, paved the way for us as we sped toward the capital. I could feel exhaustion creep into my body as the night wore on, but we did not stop. We could not stop. We had to get to Bale.
As dawn broke out over the landscape, we were pleased to see that we had made great progress. However, the horses were parched, and we knew that they would collapse on us if they did not stop for water soon. Luckily, we passed a small stream and stopped for only twenty minutes, giving the horses a chance to drink and us a chance to stretch our sore legs. We'd trained for such strenuous missions, but our bodies did nothing but protest when they actually came upon us. Before we took off again, I made Garet wait for an extra minute while I ate the rest of my rations; I knew that we would be back at the castle by nightfall, and there would be no more need to spare any food. Garet rolled his eyes at me, but I didn't care.
We resumed our trek, finding the main road only a few minutes afterward. We pressed on at full speed into the day, determined not to stop until we reached Bale. We both sighed in relief as the northern crossroads sped past us, the road branching to the east as it headed toward the Limestone Cave; we were close.
Only a half hour later, we crested the final hill and saw the beautiful city sprawled beneath us, but we did not stop to admire the view. As we approached the gate, we were finally forced to a standstill to explain ourselves to the guards.
"Hey, man, it's us," I said. He recognized us instantly, and noting the rushed intensity in our faces, he nodded for us to go through. We took up a canter as we meandered through the city, eager to get to the castle.
At last we arrived and dismounted in the stables. Captain Strond arrived shortly after, ready to give us a hearty greeting, but his expression changed when he saw us.
"We have to meet with the king," I said urgently.
"He is busy attending to the civilian squabbles," the captain said, batting away my statement like a fly.
"It can't wait!" I pleaded.
"Why? What's wrong?" he asked, suddenly concerned.
"Sandora," interrupted Garet. "There's a camp not two day's ride from here."
Strond's face turned stony. "How many?"
"At least a thousand, maybe two," I said.
He pondered this for a minute before saying, "Come with me," and whirling away up the stairs.
The stables served as the ground floor of the castle, and we rushed our way up to the first floor. My tired legs protested as we climbed another two sets of stairs, but I ignored their cries for relief and followed the captain into the throne room, where two heavyset men stood before the king.
King Albert stood regally before them, without his scepter today, which I thought was odd. Although I didn't think he much cared for it, it had become somewhat of a symbol to the people, and he usually agreed to wield it whenever civilians came into the castle. His eyes snapped over to us as we clambered through the room, making quite too much noise, the captain pushing forward until we held everyone's attention.
I couldn't help but notice that the king seemed weary. I knew him to be a caring man, and I supposed that he grieved the state of the war. Less than a day before, I had been looking forward to being the one to deliver him some happy news, but now I feared what I might find in his gaze when we told him what we had learned.
"Captain," said the king in surprise. Then quickly, he added, "Isaac. Garet. You have returned."
We bowed to him, and Captain Strond immediately said, "Your Majesty, we have urgent need to speak with you. We request a private audience." The last sentence coupled with a glance to the civilians.
Apparently, King Albert recognized our urgency as a look of understanding and foreboding crossed his face. He nodded before turning to Minister Noish, who stood behind him.
"Minister," he said. "I am afraid I must attend to affairs of state. Please continue without me. I trust you to be fair and merciful." He then turned back to the civilians and added, "And my friends, I apologize for this inconvenience. Unfortunately, I must leave you, but rest assured that I am leaving you in capable hands. Captain, men, follow me."
And with that, he stepped down the short staircase and through the door to the right. We followed him hurriedly until he turned into the war room.
I had only been in this room once before, when being introduced to the king as a new scout. As I stepped into it now, I felt none of the excitement that I had on that first day, but rather a sense of trepidation and sorrow.
We all arranged ourselves around the table, Garet and I standing at attention, before the king said, "At ease." We relaxed, but only slightly.
"Captain," said the king. "What is this urgent matter that you need to tell me?"
"It is actually these two that have need to say something," Strond replied before turning to us. "Men?"
"Your Majesty," I said before bowing. "Garet and I were on our way back from our last mission. We had spent almost a month in the field gathering intel, and we were only a day away when we stopped for the night. Garet here took first watch, but roused me early because he had spotted something. We checked it out, and in the valley nearby was a full encampment of Sandora soldiers. We fear that they are coming here."
"You are certain that it was Sandora?" he asked, jaw tight.
"Yes, sir," I said. "Their flag is unmistakable. If they really are headed for Bale, they will be here by tomorrow."
And there it was: the slightest hint of fear, or maybe it was grief, flashed over the king's eyes, and my heart sank. The goodness of the king was well-known, especially in Bale, but few understood his true kindness unless they had spent time in the castle, like Garet and I had. Many times during our training, he would come and dine with the raucous, sweaty soldiers in the belly of the castle, laughing and jesting with us instead of eating a fine meal in his clean rooms on the third floor. Many soldiers thought of him as a friend, including myself, and I grieved to bring him such dark news.
But he recovered quickly, as he always did, and the frightened part of him was forced back as his kingship took over. He turned to Strond.
"We must fortify the city," he said. "Double the guard, close the gates, and post men along the outer wall. Ensure that we send riders to our outposts. We need reinforcements."
"I will go, sir," I said, puffing out my chest.
"As will I," said Garet.
"No, I can ask no more of you two," replied the king. "You have just returned from a hard journey and likely saved many lives in your haste. Rest until tomorrow. We will send other riders."
My lips pursed in frustration, but all I said was, "Sir," before bowing my head slightly.
"Anything else, my lord?" asked the captain.
"Yes. Please be sure to send one rider to Kaiser in Hoax. If it is within his power, have him send Sir Lavitz back to us with all haste. We have need of him and his newfound friends."
I had to force myself into silence as I heard the name. Sir Lavitz was a legend of Bale, and probably all of Serdio. I'd spoken to him briefly several times, and could recall at least twice that he dined at our table. He was a greater man than any except King Albert himself. To fight next to him to defend our city would be a great honor, and I secretly hoped that he would return soon and join whatever group of soldiers they assigned me to.
That night, for the first time in many years, I didn't enjoy my dinner. A sick pit lay in my stomach, repulsing all that I offered it. As Garet ate, I toyed with my food, my mind south of Bale with the Sandora army.
"You okay?" asked Garet.
"Yeah... Just hoping we weren't too late."
The entire city had erupted into a flurry of activity since we had delivered the news. Several riders had left at the command of the king, and every soldier stationed in Bale - except me and Garet - were prepping themselves for war. It was a strange feeling, one that I had never felt before, and I couldn't get rid of the dread no matter how hard I tried. Nobody wanted to be in a battle, but waiting on the edge of one we couldn't escape was even worse. The unspoken question that hung over the city was, When will they get here?
"Isaac, you gotta eat," said Garet, and I noticed that he was eyeing me warily.
I shook my head. "I'm not really that hungry."
"Since when?"
"Since now." I shot him an angry look, and he fell silent.
After dinner, the king called us to meet with him, and we made our way to the throne room. Part of me had hoped for a private audience to properly communicate how sorry I was that we hadn't made it back sooner, but then I realized how foolish a hope that had been. The city lay on the edge of war, and the king would undoubtedly remain under guard until the threat had passed. As we stood before him, I saw that my suspicions were correct. No fewer than eight armed men stood about the throne room, two of them close to the king's side.
"Gentlemen," he said calmly. I was struck by his demeanor. I had not imagined the flash of fear in his eyes before, but now it was as if it had never existed. Before us stood a strong and powerful king. Though he was fewer than five years older than I was, he held all the wisdom and strength of the mightiest of men. Only the most foolish ever mocked the king for his youth.
"Have you rested since your arrival?"
"As much as can be expected, sir, given the circumstances," I said.
King Albert let out a small chuckle. "I am glad, given the circumstances." There was a pause, during which I heard Garet's feet shuffle on the stone floor.
"I will forever be indebted to the both of you for your service," he continued. "But I am afraid I must ask something more of you."
We both bowed low. "Anything, sir."
"I would like you to be my personal guards throughout the next few days, at least until we are sure of more than we are now."
I was taken aback and glanced over at Garet, who looked as bewildered as I was. Why would he request such a thing? We were nothing but scouts, not fierce warriors like the many men standing around us.
"Your Majesty," replied Garet. "Forgive my insolence, but why would you choose us for such a task? Your safety is not to be taken lightly."
"You are correct, Garet," he said. "And that is why I am asking you. Both of you are young and strong, and I am quite aware of your many exploits throughout Serdio. You are two of my most loyal knights, and I would be honored to trust you with my life."
Overwhelmed by his praise, I knelt down before him and said, "It would be our great honor to serve you in this way, my lord."
"Then it is decided."
Garet and I stood, and the king smiled warmly at us. I could not help but return the grin. I felt like a giddy school boy getting to meet and spend time with a beloved celebrity.
King Albert stepped forward and said, "Take your leave in the castle tonight. I will have someone show you to your quarters, and wake you in the morning to meet me in the war room."
And so we spent the night in the castle instead of the barracks. It was a strange affair, something neither of us were used to. Although King Albert had always made a point to ensure that time and money was not wasted on frivolous ventures like intricate and expensive decoration, the castle was still much more lavish than the crude campsites that we had left dotted throughout Serdio in the month prior. Despite the great looming danger, we laughed as we felt the soft mattresses in our room and ogled the giant fireplace.
Sleep did not come easily at first, but when it finally did, I slept deeply. My limited slumber the night before had left me drained of energy, and even my worries about Sandora only managed to stay my overwhelming exhaustion for a half hour before I drifted off.
It felt like only five minutes later when the sunlight began to peek through the heavy curtains and a loud knock came at the door. Fully accustomed to being awoken early, Garet and I wasted no time on our drowsiness, but promptly dressed ourselves and opened the door. One of the captains greeted us gruffly before taking us to the armory, where we were issued the suits of blue armor that we had been missing so much since our excursion. I felt a little bit taller for wearing it. And then, the captain led us to the war room, where the king, Minister Noish, and several other high-ranking officers awaited us.
My cheeks burned as every eye in the room came to rest on us when the door opened. I feared chastisement for being late, but instead, the king greeted us warmly.
"Welcome," he said. "You are right on time. We were just about to get started."
We nodded and took our places next to the doors, prepared to stop any unwanted guests.
"Gentlemen," said the king. "You are all aware of our dire situation. This morning, we face the great threat of Sandora. They have marched their way north across Serdio until finally, they rest a mile from our gates. They have blocked off all road access, and the only way in and out of the city is through the treacherous wilds of the mountains to the west. It is unclear whether our riders got through before Sandora found them, but for the safety of our people, we must assume that they did not." He took a deep breath; I could see the pain in his expression as he continued. "They have around two thousand; we have four hundred. I will not risk the lives of civilians. As such, I will be riding out to meet them and parley for peace."
I started, along with everyone else in the room. The captains began to voice all of my concerns before I could even truly process them.
"But, sir, they'll kill you before you can reach the camp."
"They're here for you, not the people."
"If they take you, it will be the end of Basil."
Captain Strond stepped forward, eyes trained forcefully on the king, and said, "Your Majesty. Forgive me, but such a plan is folly. You are the prize to be gained from an attack on Bale, and little else. Please send one of us to speak for you. We will not have you put in so much danger."
A murmur of agreement rushed around the room, and although I stayed silent, I willed the king to agree to his reasoning. Sending the king out in person would result only in his capture and the subsequent invasion of the city. It would mean the loss of Bale. And probably the loss of Basil.
After a tense, thoughtful moment, the king finally nodded, and I could feel the relief wash over us all.
"Very well," he said. "Strond, you will be my ambassador. Your first charge is to discover if peace is at all possible, and to find out what Doel's terms may be. Then report directly to me; agree to nothing without my consent."
"Of course, Your Majesty."
A few minutes later, everyone erupted into movement as the captains went to help prepare for the parley. The king, understanding the great risk the captain was taking, gave him personal thanks, even embracing him before he left for the stables. Tears pricked at my eyes, but I blinked them back.
And then we were on the balcony, on either side of King Albert, watching Captain Strond ride out to meet the encampment.
The king's words proved true. Just past the city lay a dark blotch on the landscape where the enemy camped. It seemed so vast, even from such a distance, that I felt my heart drop from my chest as I studied it. I exchanged a worried glance with Garet. The king must have noticed, as he immediately found words of comfort.
"Worry not, my friends," he said. "I have faith that Emperor Doel has not lost all reason. He will come to terms of peace before he sacrifices civilian lives."
"Forgive me, my lord," I replied. "But I think the attack on Seles would suggest otherwise."
Garet shot me a wide-eyed look. It was a bold statement, to be sure, but sometimes I felt the king was too trusting of his enemy. Emperor Doel had become utterly ruthless in the past several years, and I firmly believed that the only thing that would entice him into peace was the king's head. Even so, grief rang through me as I saw King Albert's jaw set at my words. He knew them to be true. Perhaps he had only said these things to convince himself.
"You may be right, Isaac. But if I do not strive for peace, I fling countless men, women, and children into harm's way. It is the duty of a king to protect his people, and I will do all I can to ensure their safety."
Even give yourself up? Somehow it seemed that this was what the king hinted at, but all I said was, "Of course, sir."
I trained my eyes on the speck of Captain Strond traversing the distance between Bale and the encampment, and waited with bated breath as three more tiny specks rode out to meet him. They congregated for several frightfully long minutes before Strond turned back toward the city and galloped away. I suddenly realized that I had been holding my breath, and I exhaled in relief as he neared the gates.
"Let's go down to meet him," said King Albert, and we followed him to the castle gate and waited for another several minutes before Strond arrived.
"Your Majesty," said Garet delicately. "Where are all the people?"
It was true. I hadn't noticed until now, but all the people normally bustling around this part of the city were nowhere in sight. The city lay eerily quiet, tense.
"I have instructed them to remain indoors as much as possible to avoid any danger that may arise. Their homes should keep them safe, for a time at least."
Garet and I exchanged another worried look.
A few minutes later, Strond arrived, and upon seeing the king, he quickly dismounted and rushed over, carrying a roll of parchment.
"Your Majesty," he said, bowing swiftly. "They refused to discuss terms with anyone but yourself, and gave me this letter for you."
"Very well," replied the king, receiving the parchment. "Thank you for your service, Captain," he added before breaking the wax seal. As he read, his brow furrowed, and I felt my heart beat a little harder. After his eyes finished scanning the page, he snapped the letter back into a roll and indicated that we follow him back into the castle, calling captains as we went.
We met once again in the war room, where the king read off the terms for peace.
"To Indels Castle, fondest greetings. His Majesty Doel, the kind and benevolent ruler of Imperial Sandora, has declared Basil a rebel state and formally requests its dissolution. Should any resistance arise in the king's heart, His Majesty Doel has provided incentive in the form of troops, ready to aid in the transition of power. Until a letter of consent and the king himself ride out to meet them, and so surrender his royal power, the encampment will remain before the walls of Bale. In the name of His Majesty Emperor Doel."
His eyes lingered for several seconds at the end of the letter before he tossed onto the table before him as if it were tainted with some kind of poison. I felt the anger rise within my chest, and for a moment, I fancied that I could take on the entire army by myself. Similar reactions seemed to resonate in the men around us.
"My good men," said the king. "It appears that we find ourselves in the middle of a siege."
"But that means that if we hold out long enough," said a captain, "the rest of our troops will come to aid us."
Grief passed over the king's face, and he lifted the letter once more.
"At the bottom are five signatures," he said grimly. Slowly, he read off the names, and I recognized each and every one of them. Two were men with whom I had shared a bunk on many occasions, and the others I knew from my days of early training. All five of them had been chosen as riders to call for aid. From my vantage point behind the king, I could just barely make out the signatures. But I could tell that they were not black like the rest of the ink on the page. They were written in blood.
My breaths came faster and harder to me, and I fought back tears once more.
"We are alone," said the king. A somber tone enveloped the room, and King Albert covered his mouth with a shaky hand. No one knew what to say. Any hope we may have had was now gone, vanished with our riders.
"What will we do?" came a small voice from one of the captains.
"We ride out to meet them!"
"Are you stupid? We would be slaughtered!"
"It's better than waiting to starve!"
"Men, please," pleaded the king, and silence instantly fell. "It is true that meeting them in battle would be folly. But it is also true that we should not wait and do nothing while our people suffer. By my estimations, the city would last perhaps two months before our food stores ran out, and we do not know what will happen after that. We must find another solution."
"But, my lord," said Strond. "There is no other solution."
"I respectfully disagree, Captain."
Understanding hit me forcefully in the chest, and before I could stop myself, I stepped forward and spoke out of turn.
"Your Majesty, you cannot give yourself to them," I said.
Pure anger struck me from six different pairs of eyes, but I did not back down. I would take the reprimands if it saved my king's life. He turned to me slowly, and I expected him to be angry as well, but instead I found something else in his eyes. Pride. Compassion. He smiled.
"Brave Isaac," he said. "I appreciate your care for me, and you have performed your duties well. Unfortunately, I see no other way out of this situation that does not involve more pain being brought on my people. It is as I said: it is a king's duty to protect his people, and I will do whatever I can to keep them safe."
"You can't be serious, sir!" cried one of the captains, but a stern look from King Albert silenced him.
"I will not rush hastily into this decision," said the king pointedly. "The people will be fine for a few days while I get everything in order. I will not leave my people without some hope of reprieve should something go ill. I ask only that you trust me."
"Sir," said Captain Strond carefully. "They will kill you as soon as you are within their camp."
"No. I do not think that they will."
"How can you be so sure?"
"I know my uncle," he said. "He still needs something from me."
What? I thought. Uncle? A glance over to Garet told me that he had not known this information, either. To think that King Albert was a blood relative of the insurgent Doel sent me reeling. How much grief had this brought our good king over the years? The details of the coup to overthrow King Carlo twenty years ago had been kept silent, under lock and key, but I had never fathomed that the danger had come from within the royal family.
I wondered why this had been kept a secret, and the only conclusion that I could come to was that the king was ashamed.
The next several days were filled with a flurry of activity on the part of the king. As a result, Garet and I were led all around the castle with little time to rest. However, I did not mind. I still considered it an honor to guard the king, and now that I knew that he would be leaving us soon, I was grateful that I could serve him while he still lingered. He waited to put his plan into action, and I wondered what was keeping him. He spent much time behind closed doors with his advisors - all but that strange man who always wore a hood; he had been off on assignment since before this all began - and I figured that he was giving them instructions for the time he was gone. I wondered if all his counsel fully understood that he may never return.
Six days after the lackluster parley, something happened in the city. A merchant had arrived from the south, and we were all puzzled as to how he had gotten through the barricades. The king sent several men to meet with him and ascertain what had happened, and when they returned, we were all horrified.
It appeared that the merchant had been making his way toward Bale when he stumbled upon a Sandora ambush. They had taken him to the Sandora camp, where he was beaten and his cart ransacked for goods. Then, after taking everything of value, they had sent him into the city as an act of what they called mercy. One last shipment before all the lines ran dead.
I felt sick upon hearing the report, and the king seemed no better off, although he did much better at maintaining his strong demeanor. I could tell that after this event, he was much more eager to turn himself over, but something was still keeping him here. As much as it may have been bothering him, I was grateful for the delay.
But only an hour after the merchant's report, something changed. A soldier had hastily delivered a letter to the king, and upon seeing the handwriting, something had visibly altered his countenance.
"Some luck at last," he mumbled. Then turning to us, he explained, "It seems a letter got through the barricade with the merchant. The gods have given us a great gift." And he opened it.
As he read, his face, which had been so riddled with pain over the past several days, turned to a joyous smile.
"Come," he said simply, and strode out, leading us toward the throne room.
Several advisors and captains were already assembled when we entered, and we followed the king onto the dais until he stood still before them. They seemed bewildered at the change in the king, as was I, and we eagerly awaited an explanation.
"My friends," he called out. "We have some hope returned to us this day. I have received a letter, miraculously having entered the city with the merchant, and it portends something greatly encouraging. Our good Sir Lavitz, and those who travel with him, have defeated the dragon!"
After a brief moment of silence, cheers and applause erupted across the room, Garet and I joining in happily. This was a great victory for Basil, despite the danger that still loomed over the city.
"In addition, he has confirmed the mysterious rumor that had spread out from Hoax several weeks ago. Dragoons have returned, and are fighting for us in this war."
Another chorus of excitement ran across the room, though much more muted than before. It seemed impossible that such a thing could be true, but we had all heard of the warrior who had defeated the giganto.
"Then they can come fight for us!" someone called out.
"Yes, I hope that this is a possibility, but as of right now, they are unaware of our plight. We must get word to them as soon as possible. Captains, Minister, meet me in the war room so that we may discuss this further." And with that he left, with Garet and me on his tail.
Minutes later, we convened once again. King Albert explained that Sir Lavitz and his friends - Dart, Shana, and Rose - had not only vanquished the dragon, but had also acquired the power of a dragoon for Lavitz himself. The group was staying in Lohan as one of them had been injured.
"We must get a letter to Lohan immediately," concluded the king.
"But, sir, we cannot get past the barricades," someone said.
"That is true for now, but I have a plan. The wild Western Mountains should be devoid of Sandora soldiers, except for perhaps a scouting party or two. One or two riders should be able to make it past them."
"Possibly, but they would know that it is our only escape. They would be combing the forest continuously."
"Yes, but not if all the soldiers were drawn back to camp to see the king of Basil in chains."
Silence fell over us as we struggled to comprehend him.
"My lord, you would give yourself up on the slight chance that we could get a rider over the mountain?" said a captain. "If the rider is captured, all will be for naught."
"I believe that it is worth the risk," said King Albert somberly. "But I will need a rider. Preferably two. They must be swift."
I knew the importance of this quest. I understood what should happen should it fail. And I also knew that the two best riders in Bale were standing in this room. My heart pounded as I considered what I was about to do, and I stepped forward before I could convince myself otherwise.
"Your Majesty," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. He turned to me. "Send us."
He looked taken aback, and hesitated. More firmly, I said, "Send me and Garet."
"Isaac, I could not ask this of you, after all you have done."
"Respectfully, sir, we are the best riders you have. Send us to Lohan."
Captain Strond stepped forward and offered, "It's true, sir. They're the best in Basil. They'll get through."
A tense moment of silence permeated the room as the king considered such a plan. Then he turned to Garet and asked, "Garet, do you agree? Will you go?"
"Yes, sir," he replied instantly. I smiled. "It would be an honor."
The king nodded grimly and said, "Then it is decided. We will wait for the cover of nightfall, and then enact our plan."
"Very good, sir," I said. The thrill of a challenge was met within me by a deep-seated fear of all that could go wrong, but I brushed both aside. This was going to be a dangerous mission, but also the most important mission that I had ever run.
That evening, Garet and I prepared to leave. We said few words, both understanding the grave situation, and instead spoke through the silence. Hints of weak smiles and pats on the shoulder gave us enough strength to keep moving.
As the sun sank below the horizon, we met with a delegation at the edge of the lake, as close to the mountain as we dared. Because of the thick wall surrounding the city, we would have to swim with our horses to the other side and ride up the steep mountain into the cover of the trees. We understood the danger; anything could be waiting for us in the forest.
Many had suggested that we wear our colorless chainmail for this mission, but we had vehemently resisted. Somewhere in the backs of our minds, we both feared that this would be our last mission, and we wanted to run it proudly sporting the colors of our home. We had also chosen to carry both swords and bows, in case any long distance fighting was needed.
And now we stood just before the reeds with the king, two new guards, and several captains. King Albert had changed his clothes, and he was now wearing simple leather armor and a forest green cloak, prepared for his journey into the enemy camp. I could not help but fear what might happen.
"Isaac, Garet," said the king ceremoniously. "It is with great sadness that we watch you depart, but also with great hope. The road ahead will be perilous, but we believe that you will prevail. Go with the good graces of all of Basil."
A lump formed in my throat as we shook the hands of our king and captains.
"Your Majesty," I said. He looked at me expectantly, and I struggled to say the words. I hated how my voice wavered when I did. "Come back to Bale soon."
"Not to worry, Isaac," he said with a joy that I could not feel. "We will all be back, safe and sound, before you know it."
Then turning to Garet, I forced out a grin, which he returned half-heartedly. We had walked into danger many times before, but nothing quite like this. Would we both return to this place? I recognized the words hidden behind his eyes.
Whatever it takes, he said.
Whatever it takes, I replied with a nod.
I grabbed the reins of my horse and stroked his nose affectionately. Something about the way he nuzzled me made me feel just a little better. We led our horses to the edge of the water and looked back on the city one last time. As the last of the twilight cast itself over the houses, memories came rushing back to me. Garet and I had grown up here, taken our first steps here, enlisted in the military here. We had trained here, fought here. And now we were leaving, maybe for the last time. I shifted my gaze to the castle and the flag of Basil flying high in the breeze. I prayed that we might return one day.
Then we walked out into lake.
The first hour was a sullen mixture of trudging through mud and swimming next to the horses. We would have ridden them, but staying dry was the least of our concerns, and we knew the horses would need the stamina later in the journey. Repeatedly, I glanced nervously behind me, sure that someone would be following us, but nobody came. The sounds of the city grew distant as we neared the far edge of the lake, and darkness fell over us. We dared not light a torch, but allowed our eyes to adjust and traveled by moonlight.
After a time, I heard some distant shouts coming from the gate. The king was riding out. I tried not to think of what they would do to him when he arrived at the camp.
We reached the forest just as whoops and cries drifted across the plain to meet us. I took no comfort in knowing that the king was in their grasp, but at least I knew that the soldiers in the forest would likely be pulled back to celebrate their victory. We pressed on, climbing up the steep hill on foot to make any silhouette less conspicuous, and we breathed a little easier as the trees grew thicker. At last, we made it up onto the ridge, and we mounted our horses in hopes that we might travel faster.
Not a word passed between us. All had been said, and all that would need to be said from now on could be done silently. The only sounds we heard were the soft thuds of horses' hooves beneath us. Even the night's creatures seemed to be mourning the loss of the king's presence.
I estimated that we were almost safely past the barricade when we heard a faint sound in front of us. We stopped short, listening intently, and I struggled to keep my pulse down. My hand silently moved to rest on my sword hilt. But nothing came. After several minutes of waiting, we decided to move forward, our senses on high alert.
Nothing happened for another mile or so. We were about to consider speeding to a gallop when we heard another noise, this one behind us. A twig snapped, and we halted once more. Then a rustle of leaves, and we brought about our horses. The moonlight struggled to reach through the tall trees, and most of the forest floor was covered in shadow. But then a voice spoke, and we instantly drew our swords.
"What have we here?" The voice was sly, evil. Then a knight stepped out, emblazoned with the purple of Sandora, wearing commander's armor. "Kill them."
I ducked down as Garet sheathed his sword and reached for his bow. An arrow whizzed above me, and I heard a great cry of pain as Garet's horse crumpled to the ground. I swore.
"Go!" shouted Garet, standing and drawing his sword. We both understood that without a horse, this mission would ultimately fail. Now that we had been discovered, our chances had greatly dwindled, and although everything in me wanted to stay with Garet, I forced myself to turn around and run.
My horse sped quickly into a gallop, and from behind me I heard the clashing of metal ring through the trees as Garet tried to hold them off. I prayed for his safety, but before I could complete the thought, I heard him scream. Tears clouded my vision, but I did not turn back. He continued to cry out, but I pressed forward.
Whatever it takes.
After several minutes, I diverted to the left, eager to be free of the trees. Garet's cries had ceased, and I hoped that they had bound and gagged him, taking him to camp. But in my heart, I knew that this wasn't true.
But grief had no part of this mission. I sniffed and wiped my eyes, keeping them trained on the ground before me until at last I broke out of the forest. I knew the road was not safe, but it was the fastest way out, and I had to get out of reach of the encampment.
All night long, I sped toward the south. Only the best of Basil's horses were trained for such missions, and my steed persisted long past the time when others would have collapsed from exhaustion. Eventually, I sensed dawn's approach and veered off the road to the left, taking refuge in the trees. I did not slow until we were hugging the Serdian Mountains, and I did not stop until I found a small stream snaking its way through the trees. I dismounted, letting my horse drink deeply as I did the same. Then I sat on the forest floor, leaning against a tree, still for the first time since I left Bale. All at once, the sound of Garet's screams rang loudly in my mind, and I wept for him. The tears did not stop until I was numb and drifted off.
As the sun's rays began to creep between the leaves, I rose and woke my horse. Quickly, I mounted, and we were off. For the entire day, we traveled, not daring to stop until well past noon. My lack of sleep began to tug at my eyelids, but I rubbed them awake and continued. I stayed just out of sight of the road, using it to track my progress. I had already sped well past Hoax, and I cursed myself for not stopping to exchange horses. But I couldn't go back.
Night began to fall once again, and I begrudgingly conceded to my drooping eyes and stopped briefly, only allowing myself a couple hours of sleep. Then I was off again, speeding through the darkness. Sometime in the morning, I found myself leading my horse precariously over a rocky outcrop. A half-mile later, the trees broke, and I saw a great valley to my left, silvery water flowing down the middle, illuminated by the moon's rays. I had reached the marshland. Perhaps if I kept a good pace, I could reach Lohan by nightfall tomorrow.
Morning broke over the land, sending a cascade of sunlight on my path. I rode until what I guessed was nine o'clock before stopping within earshot of the road. It had occurred to me that Sandora might transport the king this way, as it was easier than going over the mountains, and that I may be able to rescue him before I even reached Lohan. That is, if they were taking him to Doel and he wasn't already dead. But perhaps I just listened to give me some hope that he was alive.
I continued to travel close to the road as the day pressed on, straining my ears to listen for any sounds.
It was just past noon when something finally came. I could not mistake it; the sounds of a carriage. I dismounted quickly and ran to the edge of the trees, glancing down the road. It came into view as it rounded a corner, along with two heavily armed guards on horseback at either side, and I took a sharp breath as I saw that it was indeed the carriage of Imperial Sandora. The lightning crest of the emperor himself adorned the sides.
Smart, I thought. No one would dare search Doel's personal carriage. Except maybe me.
I flung myself into the road, but the carriage didn't even slow. I drew my sword and held it out as the guards sped by, and a moment later the feeling of sliced flesh ran up my hand, and one of the horses fell to the ground, its front leg missing. The carriage ground to a halt several feet up the road as the knight struggled to push the horse's body off him. I had precious little time.
Stomping forward, I pressed my blade against his throat and shouted, "Where is the king?"
He did little more than scowl, and I let my blade cut him slightly as I prepared to ask again. But just then I heard a familiar voice call out from the carriage.
"Isaac! Leave me! Run!" A loud thump came from the carriage, and the voice was muffled. I looked up wildly. The king was alive. There was no mistaking his voice, and without hesitation I charged forward.
"Go," growled the other guard as he rounded on me. Before I could react, the carriage sped away, and my heart sank. The burly guard reached for a bow, and I quickly realized my mistake.
I turned and ran, my mind bent on reaching my horse, when a whistle ran through the air behind me. With a small thwump, I felt pain explode in my back, and I screamed as I tumbled to the ground. I scrambled to my feet, every breath a sharp pain, and heard another arrow flit past my right knee. At last, I reached my horse and mounted him as quickly as possible before urging him into a gallop.
At first, I headed east toward the mountains. I knew that the guard would follow me, and I didn't want him knowing my destination. After I could no longer hear the pounding of his horse, I turned and sped south once more, determined to reach Lohan.
But the arrow in my back had pierced deeply. The jostling of the horse was agony, as was each and every breath. After a time, I was unsure if I was even pulling in air anymore. Several times, darkness danced before my eyes, but I did not stop. I tried to focus on something, anything, to keep me awake.
Where are they taking him?
I played the scene over and over in my head. Doel's symbol would likely mean that they were headed to the Black Castle, but the emperor was notorious for hating to have "filthy prisoners" corrupting his home. Think, Isaac, I said. It was difficult. The heat of the day was upon me, and I struggled to breathe. I feared that I may not survive long enough. I could feel the hot blood soaking the saddle beneath me.
Then the image of the guard rang in my mind. I recognized his uniform, but from where? My dazed mind struggled to connect the ideas together, until finally it snapped into place.
Hellena.
I had to reach Lohan. I had to tell Sir Lavitz. Or else the king would die.
I don't know how, but I held on. The sun creeped down again behind the Western Mountains, and an hour or so later, my hazy eyes made out the city. The great tent of the Hero Competition stood proudly before me, and I gathered a small amount of hope. It's too bad, I thought. Garet and I had wanted to go this year.
The pain of his death rushed back, and the weak response of my heart foreboded ill. I knew that I would not be leaving Lohan alive.
As long as I get there.
Urging my horse forward and struggling to stay aright, I trotted through the open gate. I dimly registered the cries and gasps as the people of the city saw my bloodied back. I shook my head and tried to take a deep breath, only met by intense pain.
I tried to focus once more on my dimming memory. The king had said that Lavitz was staying at the One-Eyed Crow. Grateful for my many visits to Lohan, I wound my way through the streets knowingly, ignoring the fearful cries around me, and stopped just before the inn. I tried to dismount, but my legs collapsed beneath me, and I fell hard to the ground. Barely comprehending the piercing pain in my arm as the bone cracked under my weight, I struggled to my feet, the shouts of many filling my ears, and burst through the door.
Taking a painful breath, I steeled myself and shouted, "Sir Lavitz!" Several men and women were eating in the dining hall, and they gasped or screamed as they saw me. I didn't care. The innkeeper rushed to me, but I shoved him aside and shouted again, "Sir Lavitz!" I forced my legs to take me to the stairs, but I collapsed onto them, unable to make it one step further.
So this is how it ends, I thought. Garet died in vain. And so will I.
My eyes closed. I tried to take one more breath. And then the pounding of footsteps. Heavy hands pulling at me. I faced the light. The face before me...
"Sir Lavitz," I said weakly. "I won't die in vain."
His mouth moved. His deep voice. I had to speak.
"Sir. Bale. It's... been captured."
Another sound. I breathed in. Nothing but pain. Just a few more sentences...
"Sandora came and surprised us. A siege... The king... King Albert gave himself up. For the people."
Darkness. The light left. A little jolt. One more thing to say. Mutterings around me, and then:
"Where is King Albert?"
One more word. Just one more... One...
"Hellena..."
And the night ended.