The Heir (15 page)

“I hold my brother’s ear, not you, boy!”
Cadman hissed, still pointing his sword at the Prince’s chest. “You
have been marked a traitor. Once word reaches Grasmere, no one will
take you in.”

Baylin ignored his uncle’s words, keeping
his attention on the King. “King Gideon, I implore you to see
reason. It is obvious my uncle has poisoned your mind with his lies
and empty promises.” He knew his words were lies.
He knew
exactly what he was doing by collaborating with Cadman. But if the
attack of the troll hordes taught me anything, it is that the King
is a coward. If he can see a way to save his skin, he will take
it.
“Call off your men. Arrest Cadman for his treachery and I
will see that King Ashmur is merciful.”

For a brief moment it appeared the King
considered Baylin’s offer.

“Father, you promised me the Kingdom!” Isla
screamed out in anger. “I am to be the Queen of Grasmere!”

Queen Fia turned on her daughter, slapping
her across the face. “Shut your mouth for once in your life!”

“Enough!” boomed King Gideon. “Let it be
known, if anyone is seen standing with the traitor Baylin, you will
be marked a conspirator as well.”

“To the Prince!” called out Ferric.

Every man of Grasmere repeated the cry. “To
the Prince!”

The guards of Mirstone were overwhelmed. It
was obvious they would not be able to defeat Baylin’s men. The
anger of both sets of men was beginning to engulf them. Sweat
poured from each man’s forehead as he held his sword with a
white-knuckled grip.

“Please, men of Mirstone, let us pass!”
Baylin called out. “I do not want a war. It would please me that
not one drop of blood be shed in the name of this insanity.”

It started with a shove of one Mirstone
guard to a Grasmere guard. One simple act, creating a reaction like
ripples that form from a pebble being thrown in the still waters of
a pond. The air erupted with the sound of steel on steel as men
fought with sword and fist. Those commoners too foolish to flee
when the commotion first began were screaming and running for their
lives.

Several members of the guard grabbed the
King, Queen and Princess and rushed them through a nearby door.
Cadman followed them closely, lingering only for a moment to sneer
at his nephew before scurrying away.

“We must away to Grasmere,” Baylin said as
he pushed through the crowds of soldiers with Ferric at his
side.

“What of the soldiers?” Ferric asked,
walking close at hand in order to defend the Prince if it was
needed.

“Let it be known I wish none to be harmed if
it can be helped,” he said as they reached a door out of the hall.
“These men are only following orders. Our main focus is getting out
of this gods forsaken place.”

Baylin and his men outnumbered the remaining
sober guards in Mirstone. Thanks to the evening’s wine and ale,
over half were too drunk to be of any use. With the royal family
running and hiding with their tails between their legs, their
guards quickly scattered and the men were able to escape. However,
the threat of retaliation was on their heels as they made their way
toward Grasmere.

The Prince and his men rode hard through the
night and well into the following day. They reached the western
edge of Fagin Forest when they stopped to rest.

Fagin Forest was what separated the Kingdoms
of Mirstone and Grasmere. It was a thick, dense wood said to be
haunted by the long-dead Elven King, Lord Rydel, who had died a few
years after the Battle of Embers. The road through the forest was
little more than a makeshift path—so narrow that it could only hold
three men side by side on horseback. There were some parts of the
path that were even narrower. It made getting an army into Grasmere
difficult, but after all, it had been created this way on
purpose.

Long ago, during the Battle of Embers, the
great Keld King Aron, desperate to save the realm of Wintervale,
had approached the Elven King Rydel. Aron begged for the help of
the elves, stating that the war wasn’t simply that of the Keld, but
that it affected all the races calling Wintervale home. Rydel,
being arrogant and not wanting to interfere with the gods’ wishes,
extended his well wishes and hopes for the Keld victory over the
trolls, but refused to involve his people in a war not of their
making.

However, after the battle was over and the
smoke billowed from the ash-covered land, the elf King saw the
error of his ways. Not only had the Keld and the elves been
affected by the maliciousness of war, but the races of men, dwarves
and even the fae folk had lost many to the evil that had plagued
the lands. Yet only the Keld fought to overthrow it.

Realizing their fault, the elves bridged an
alliance with the great Keld Kingdoms. Using strong, ancient
enchantments, they fortified all the Kingdoms with unique defenses
in exchange for peace and a vow that the Keld would forever defend
all who lived within the realm of Wintervale. Fagin Forest had been
one of those defenses. The elves used their magic to erect the
lush, dense forest as a wall between Mirstone and Grasmere. It
provided a great deal of security for the Kingdoms, making it
virtually impossible for any invasion to take place. Baylin never
dreamed he would be the one trying to bring an army through it.

“Twenty minutes, men, that is all the time
we have to spare,” Baylin called out. He wanted to give them the
whole day to rest, but they had to return to Grasmere as soon as
possible.
We will not be safe until we are within the walls of
the castle. Even then, I am not sure how safe we will be.

“Back in command already? And just when I
was getting used to the power!” Ferric joked as he approached the
Prince.

Baylin smiled and embraced Ferric. “You did
a marvelous job, my friend, and I am forever in your debt.”

Ferric’s smile waned as he looked at the
Prince’s weary face. “What is going on, Baylin? It was as if they
were trying to keep you captive.”

“They were,” Baylin said. “They threatened
to have Luana killed if I did not stay and marry Isla.”

Confusion shown on Ferric’s face as he
furrowed his brow in disbelief. “It’s no secret you’re in love with
Luana, but why would they risk their Kingdom to try such a futile
move? They had to have known the risk of getting caught.”

“They plan to take Grasmere for their own,”
Baylin explained. “Cadman has been in on it with them for what I
can assume has been years. He has always felt the throne should be
his. My guess is that he convinced the royal family to go along
with it as a way of raising themselves in the ranks. Isla would be
the High Queen if we were to marry.”

Ferric sat down on the ground next to a
fallen log to rest. “How does you marrying the Princess help Cadman
get the throne?”

Baylin sat down next to Ferric. “I don’t
think he planned on me ruling for very long.”

Ferric looked at the Prince with a confused
expression.

“If I were to marry the Princess and then
meet an untimely death,” Baylin began, “she could marry Cadman and
they would be King and Queen of Grasmere, of the entire realm of
Wintervale. They were all in on it together, Ferric. Even King
Gideon and Queen Fia.”

“What do we do, Baylin?” Ferric asked. “You
know this won’t be the end of it.”

Baylin looked around the large gathering of
men who came to his defense when he needed them most. “I don’t
know.”

Baylin rose at the sound of a horse
galloping up on them from the direction of Mirstone. A rider in
Grasmere indigo blue called out, “My Prince Baylin!”

Baylin ran over to the man. “What is
it?”

“Mirstone, Your Grace,” he said
breathlessly. “They are arming their forces. They mean to move on
Grasmere.”

Baylin’s heart began to pound and a
prickling wave of heat flowed over him.
I’ve brought a war to my
front door.

“How long?” Baylin asked, scrubbing his hand
along his tense forehead.

“It will be here in two days, at most,” the
rider replied.

The Prince kicked at a large clump of dirt
that had been brought up by the horses. He was angry, frustrated
and lost at what to do.
How I wish Father was here. If only he
had seen Cadman for what he was. If only I had seen Isla through
Luana’s eyes.

A thick fog began to roll in through the
trees of the forest. It made the visibility bleak. He looked around
at all the men who were staring at him. They sat in the dirt or on
the edge of the forest on dead logs. They were hushed in their
tones and shot nervous glances at the Prince. They looked to him to
make this right.

Ferric placed a firm hand on Baylin’s
shoulder. “What are we to do, Baylin?”

“I honestly don’t know, my friend,” Baylin
said with a deep sigh. “I fear I have killed us all.”

“Not necessarily,” came a cool, familiar
voice from within the dark cover of the forest.

Baylin and his men jumped to attention,
drawing their swords.

“Who goes there?” Baylin called out, taking
a step closer to the forest edge. “Show yourself.”

The fog, which had been so thick they could
not see ten paces in front of their faces, dissipated almost
immediately. Gliding like a specter, the elf maiden gracefully
walked out from under the cover of the forest and revealed herself
to the tired group of soldiers.

She was no longer cloaked like she had been
when she presented herself in Baylin’s tent. She was dressed in a
pale lilac gown that shimmered and trailed like molten metal behind
her as she walked forward. Her long pale hair trailed down her
back, a few glistening strands had been pushed behind her upturned
ears. Her pale blue eyes appeared to glow as she surveyed the weary
group.

Baylin fell to his knee and bowed. “You
honor us.”

Though it appeared his men were not sure
what was going on, they followed suit and bowed on one knee.

“Rise, men of Grasmere,” the elf
commanded.

Baylin stood first and slowly approached the
elf as his men rose to watch in awe. The young Prince found himself
at a loss for words as he stared into the ghostly blue eyes of the
elf maid. She studied him carefully, surveying him before she
spoke. “Much has occurred since our last meeting, son of Ashmur. It
would seem the herbs have revealed your path and purpose.”

Baylin nodded. “They have revealed a great
deal, and I am in your debt for your assistance. Though what the
end will be is a mystery to me.”

“The vision of the elves is both a blessing
and a curse, young one,” she replied, reaching out a gentle hand
and placing it on his arm. “Though we are gifted the ability of
foresight, the ability to translate visions is not always as
easy.”

Baylin sighed softly. “I fear the vision
came too late. Mirstone has conspired against us. They mean to take
Grasmere for themselves. War will be upon us in no time.”

“Do not fear, young Prince, I come bringing
help,” the elf maid said with a smile. She turned, holding out a
hand, gesturing Baylin to look toward the edge of the forest. “May
I present our beloved Lord, King Rydel.”

Everyone within earshot gasped at the name.
The history of Wintervale was known to all who lived within the
realm. Anyone over the age of five years knew the story of how King
Rydel erected Fagin Forest. The stories told that he used the last
of his magic to do so, therefore condemning himself to death.

The men turned and looked as the elf King
emerged from the forest, along with a few elven guards. He was
extremely tall and lean, while still appearing strong and
formidable. For one so old, he had the appearance of youth about
his face, though his ghostly blue eyes spoke of wisdom beyond their
reckoning. He wore a fine pale blue tunic that grazed the ground as
he walked. His long silken hair flowed over his shoulders and down
his back in a straight shimmering white sheet. Atop his head, he
wore a crown of silver leaves, accented with emeralds. His presence
was ethereal, the air around him shimmered.

Baylin and his men hit the ground, showing
their respect. The Prince dared to lift his eyes to King Rydel. “My
great Lord, you honor me and my men. We are not worthy of your
presence.”

The King nodded his approval with a slight
upturn of a smile on his face. “Many thanks, Baylin, son of Ashmur,
future King of Grasmere. Please do rise, we have much to
discuss.”

Baylin rose as the forest appeared to erupt
with movement. Elves began to move out of the darkness of the
trees, carrying baskets of fruit and bread along with bottles of
wine and water.

Ferric stood, moving in close to Baylin, and
whispered, “What in hell is going on?”

King Rydel addressed the elves with a
commanding voice. “Please see to these men and their horses. They
have a long journey ahead of them and require rest and
replenishment.”

Baylin looked at the Elven King with
questioning eyes. “Apologies for questioning your gifts and
gestures of friendship, for they are most welcome. However, I must
ask why you are helping us.”

Rydel smiled gently at him. “Because, Your
Grace, you are the great hope of this entire realm. If you cannot
stop the evil spreading through this land, it will not only be the
races of men and Keld that are abolished. All will fall victim to
this evil. Wintervale is in your hands.”

The weight of the words caused Baylin’s body
to feel heavy with worry. “I do not understand. You are the great
King of old, you are the most powerful being in Wintervale. How can
I be the only hope when you are so powerful?”

The King gestured to the edge of the forest
where a young elf maid had set out a blanket with food and drink on
it. “Please sit with me, both of you. I’m certain you are in great
need of rest and refreshment.”