out. “We ride tonight!”
Erec, dressed again in full armor, his sword swinging at his waist, marched down the hall of the Duke’s castle, going the opposite way of all the men. He had one important task left before he departed for what could be his final battle.
He had to see Alistair.
Since they had returned from the day’s battle, Alistair had waited in the castle, down the hall in her own chamber, waiting for Erec to come to her. She was waiting for a happy reunion, and his heart sank as he realized he would have to share with her the bad news that he would be leaving again. He felt some sense of peace knowing that she would at least be here, safe within these castle walls, and he felt more determined than ever to keep her safe, to keep back the Empire. His heart ached at the idea of leaving her – he had wanted nothing but to spend time with her since their vow to marry. But it just did not seem meant to be.
As Erec turned the corner, his spurs jingling, his boots echoing in the emptying castle halls, he braced himself for the goodbye, which he knew would be painful. He finally reached an ancient, arched wooden door, and knocked gently with his gauntlet.
There came the sound of footsteps crossing the room, and a moment later, the door opened. Erec’s heart soared, as it did every time he saw Alistair. There she stood, in the doorway, with her long, flowing blonde hair and large crystal eyes, staring back at him like an apparition. She seemed more beautiful every time he saw her.
Erec stepped inside and embraced her, and she hugged him back. She held him tightly, for a long time, not wanting to let go. He did not either. He wished more than anything that he could just shut the door behind him and stay here with her, for as long as he could. But it was not meant to be.
The warmth and feel of her made everything right in the world, and he was reluctant to let go. Finally, he pulled back and looked into her eyes, which were glistening. She glanced down at his armor, his weapons, and her face fell as she realized he was not staying.
“Are you leaving again, my Lord?” she asked.
Erec lowered his head.
“It is not my wish, my lady,” he replied. “The Empire approaches. If I stay here, we will all die.”
“And if you leave?” she asked.
“I will likely die either way,” he admitted. “But this will at least give us all a chance. A tiny chance, but a chance.”
Alistair turned and walked to the window, looking out over the Duke’s courtyard in the setting sun, her face lit by the soft light. Erec could see the sadness etched across it, and he came to her and brushed the hair off her neck, caressing her.
“Do not be sad, my lady,” he said. “If I survive this, I will return to you. And then we shall be together, forever, free from all dangers and threats. Free to finally live our lives together.”
Sadly, she shook her head.
“I’m afraid,” she said.
“Of the approaching armies?” he asked.
“No,” she said turning to him. “Of you.”
Erec looked back, puzzled.
“I’m afraid that you will think of me differently now,” she said, “since you saw what happened on the battlefield.”
Erec shook his head.
“I do not think of you differently at all,” he said. “You saved my life, and for that I’m grateful.”
She shook her head.
“But you also saw a different side of me,” she said. “You saw that I’m not normal. I’m not like everybody else. I have a power within me which I do not understand. And now I fear you will think of me as some sort of monster. As a woman you no longer want for your wife.”
Erec’s heart broke at her words, and he stepped forward, took her hands earnestly in his, and looked into her eyes with all the seriousness he could muster.
“Alistair,” he said. “I love you with everything that I am. There has never been a woman that I have loved more. And there never will be. I love all that you are. I see you no differently as anyone else. Whatever powers you have, whoever it is that you are – even if I do not understand it, I accept all of it. I’m grateful for all of it. I vowed not to pry, and I shall keep that vow. I will never ask you. Whatever it is that you are, I accept you.”
She stared back at him for a long time, then slowly broke into a smile, and her eyes fluttered with tears of relief and joy. She turned and embraced him, hugging him tightly, with everything she had.
She whispered in his ear: “Come back to me.”
Chapter Four
Gareth stood at the cave’s edge, watching the sun fall, and waited. He licked his dry lips and tried to focus, the effects of the opium finally wearing off. He was lightheaded, and hadn’t drank or eaten in days. Gareth thought back to his daring escape from the castle, slinking out through the secret passageway behind the fireplace, right before Lord Kultin had tried to ambush him, and he smiled. Kultin had been smart in his coup – but Gareth had been smarter. Like everyone else, he had underestimated Gareth; he hadn’t realized that Gareth’s spies were everywhere, and that he’d known about his plot almost instantly.
Gareth had escaped just in time, right before Kultin had ambushed him and before Andronicus had invaded King’s Court and razed it to the ground. Lord Kultin had done him a favor.
Gareth had taken the ancient, secret passageways out of the castle, twisting and turning beneath the ground, finally letting him out in the countryside, surfacing in a remote village miles from King’s Court. He had surfaced near this cave and had collapsed upon reaching it, sleeping throughout the day, huddled up and shivering in the relentless winter air. He wished that he had brought more layers of clothing.
Awake, Gareth crouched and spied, in the distance, a small farming village; there were a handful of cottages, smoke rising from their chimneys, and throughout were Andronicus’ soldiers marching through the village and the countryside. Gareth had waited patiently until they dispersed. His stomach ached with hunger, and he knew he needed to make it to one of those houses. He could smell food cooking from here.
Gareth sprinted from the cave, looking every which way, breathing hard, frantic with fear. He hadn’t run in years, and he gasped from the effort; it made him realize how thin and sickly he had become. The wound in his head, where his mother had hit him with the bust, throbbed. If he survived all this, he vowed to kill her himself.
Gareth ran into the town, luckily escaping detection from the few Empire soldiers who had their backs turned to him. He sprinted to the first cottage he saw, a simple one-room dwelling like the others, a warm glow coming from inside. He saw a teenage girl, perhaps his age, walking through the open door with a stack of meat, smiling, accompanied by a younger girl, perhaps her sister, maybe ten – and decided this was the place.
Gareth burst through the door with them, following them in, slamming the door behind them and grabbing hold of the younger girl from behind, his arm around her throat. The girl screamed out, and the older girl dropped her platter of food, as Gareth pulled a knife from his waist and held it to the young girl’s throat.
She screamed and cried.
“PAPA!”
