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Zayden has trained as a scout and can use a sword, he’ll kill him!” Sabrina said fervently. “So from here on out, he’s your brother, a knuckle-headed servant in the kitchens. Understand?”

“We’re going to circle back to knuckle-headed,” Zayden said humorously.

“I understand… but what if someone else betrays him,” Lucy asked nervously.

“I’ll get the word out. We’re all allies here. The other servants will keep Zayden’s secret.” And with a twinkle in her eyes, answering Lucy’s unspoken question, “and if they don’t… it’ll be moss cabbage every night, so help me.”

“Silence, everyone! Quiet down! Your new King is about to speak!” the soldiers stiffly voice came interrupting any further discussions.

“Hear me, people of this castle. I know you have long served the former queen. But her reign has ended.” King Jameel gestured and one of his soldiers held up the head of the queen. Everywhere a gasped could be heard.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Lucy whispered to Zayden.

“This is the least of our problems. We’ll be lucky if we get through this night with our own heads still attached,” Zayden whispers back

“Gods…” lucy said her eyes wide.

“The queen deserved better than this. Jameel is a monster,” Zayden said thoughtfully.

“But what can we do? We have no weapons,” Avery asked bitterly.

Jameel continues, “There are no warriors left among you. My men have seen to that.”

Soldiers marched in, wheeling carts full of bodies.

“I give you a choice now. Pledge your loyalty to me…” Jameel said humorously. “Or add more carcasses to the pile.”

One of the soldiers unsheathed his sword, inquiring, “Who’s first?”

As the servants lined up to take the loyalty pledge, Lucy plucked at Zayden’s sleeve. “What do we do?”

“Pledge our loyalty. We bend the knee. We promise Jameel our service, and when the time is right… we strike.”

 

A few hours later, Skyelar, Prince Anlon and Sir Luke were riding through the forest, away from Dragonstead. Night has already fallen when they reached a fork in the path.

“Where are we going?” Skyelar felt utterly frustrated.

“Don’t worry. I’m taking you somewhere safe,” Sir Luke answered with a maddening smile.

“And where is that?”

“There’s a monastery deep in the woods. I trained with the monks there for years. They’ll hide us from Jameel.” He turned to Prince Anlon, “You could come too, King Anlon,”

“No. I must return home. Ravenshire will need me.” He gave Skyelar a teasing look, “Here’s where we must part ways, my lovely Skyelar.” He pulls out a small purple orb from the inside of his robes and offers it to her. Skyelar takes the orb examining it and it shines in her hand.

“A gift of beauty, from one beauty to another,” he smiled.

“What is it?” asked Skyelar softly.

“In Ravenshire, we use these to speak with those we care about. So they’re never far from our hearts and minds.” Anlon explained.

“So this orb…?”

“I have its match. We can use them to send each other messages.”

Skyelar leaned over to Anlon and kissed his cheek, “Thank you, Anlon.”

“A pleasure. And know this… Jameel’s treachery will be punished. When you rise against him, Ravenshire will be with you.”

“Until then…Farewell.”

Anlon winks and waves back at Skyelar as he leaves. Behind her, the lights of Dragonstead recede into darkness.

“My home,” observed Skyelar, her voice trailing off.

“Don’t despair. You’re alive. That’s all that matters,” Sir Luke tried to lighten the mood.

“I promise you, I will take my kingdom back. I weep for my people. For my mother, my family, my friends…” She gave a low whimper. “They deserved better, and my heart breaks for them.”

“You must be strong. Now more than ever.”

“King Jameel…He’s destroyed everything I’ve ever known. I will take Dragonstead back. I swear it.”

 

 

 

CHAPTER 2

 

CHAPTER 2: THE RUINS OF LINDISFARNE

 

Two years after King Jameel seized Dragonstead, Zayden was living in the castle. Disguised as a common servant. He was helping Avery and Sabrina carry large sacks of flour to the kitchen.

“All this for dinner tonight?” Zayden proclaimed. “I swear, we’re carrying a weeks’ worth here!”

“Just about.” Avery answered, “We’re cooking double. Another battalion of soldiers arrived at Dragonstead last night, and we’ve got to feed them all.”

“King Jameel forces nearly every able-person in the five kingdoms into his army. It’s no wonder we’re overflowing with soldiers,” Sabrina added.

“Another battalion…” Zayden said with a worried frown. “I’ve got to figure out what’s going on and send word to Skyelar.”

“Hush!” Sabrina warned. “There’s soldiers up ahead. You want them to hear you?”

Zayden looks down the corridor, and spots a woman in armor arguing with a soldier.

Her voice clear and loud, “I won’t tolerate another mistake. Prince Andrew has been too lenient with you.”

The soldier stood nervously at attention, “Ever soldier in the barracks will be ready for inspection within the hour. I swear it.”

“You don’t see that every day. I wonder who she is.” Avery said.

“I think she must be a military officer.” Zayden replied, “Dressed in full armor? She’s got to be someone important in Jameel’s army.”

“Enough gossip, you two,” Sabrina hissed. “We’ve got work to do.”

As they entered the kitchen Lucy informed Sabrina what they expected for supper.

“My goodness, they want venison tonight for the high table… I hope we have enough.”

“Yeah, and we better hurry with it,” Avery added. “My back still hasn’t finished healing from my last whipping.”

As they worked, Zayden hears a tapping at the window. He looks up to see his hawk Dragon.

“Hawkie is back!” Avery exclaimed.

Zayden shook his head, “I told you, he only answers to Dragon.”

Zayden cuts off a small piece of venison, and Dragon eats it out of his hand. He chirrups and looks longingly at the sky.

“Not yet, my friend. When we have news for Skyelar… then I’ll send you off,” sighed Zayden.

“Your hawk is as restless as you are, Zayden.” Avery said.

“I don’t blame him. But he’s the lucky one. He gets to fly away from this place… and he’ll get to see Skyelar again long before I ever will.”

 

Skyelar is living in a hidden monastery with Sir Luke and the monks who run it. As another morning dawns, she carries two buckets of water up the hill and into the monastery. She sets them down in front of Sir Luke and one of the monks.

“Look at you!” Sir Luke said excitedly, “There was a time when carrying just one bucket left you out of breath.”

“I was a castle girl back then,” Skyelar said easily.

“Now you are something stronger,” the monk said. “Why do you push yourself? Most queens leave the hard work to others,” the monk added.

“Most queens have kingdoms,” she replied dryly.

“Good answer. Are you ready to train with me this morning?”

Skyelar couldn’t hide her smile, “I’m always ready.”

The monk gestured to the sword Sir Luke gave her, hanging on a rock on the wall. She eyes the weapon in the monks’ hands, it’s a rod with a blade on both ends. She exams the weapon eyeing the monk, “When do I get to use that one?”

“Only the most skilled monks are allowed to use the kor-kitar. You are not yet ready for it.”

She picks up her sword, “I’ll make do with this.”

“Let’s begin.”

The monk squares off against her, taking a firm, wide stance. He tightens his grip on his kor-kitar and eyes her weapon. His placid face almost hints at a smile. The blade of his kor-kitar shoots out at her! She knocks the kor-kitar to the side with the flat of her sword, shoving it away. The monk then lunges at her, grabbing her by the throat. He jerks her up, lifting her off her feet, and holds her in the air in front of him. She struggles to breathe.

“You fight well. But ultimately, youth and passion cannot match experience and discipline. You are beaten. Yield.”

As she tries to fight off his grip, she noticed he’s left his stomach unprotected… she winds up and kicks the monk as hard as she could in the stomach. The monk sucks in his breath and drops her.

“Not one of our moves,” the monk staggers. “But a good one.”

“Come on. Let’s keep going,” Skyelar said.

“No. enough for today.”

She lowers her weapon and faces the monk, bowing.

“You fought well. My brothers and I will be proud to follow you into battle, when the time comes,” the monk exclaimed.

“Thank you.”

The monk bows to her and leaves. Sir Luke turned to her, ‘You’ve impressed the Lindisfarne monks. There are about 50 of them, and we’ll need every last one in the coming battle to take back Dragonstead. Your army is growing, Skyelar.”

“It’ll grow even faster once we leave the ruins of Lindisfarne.”

“Patience, My Queen.”

Just then, the orb Anlon gave her grows warm.

“Another message from Anlon!” Skyelar said with a rueful smile.

“What does it say? Any word on the fight against Jameel? The iron empire?” Sir Luke croaked excitedly.

“It’s Anlon, Sir Luke. I’d lower your expectations to more… material things,” Skyelar laughed as she spins the orb and Anlon’s image appears in it.

“Princess, I apologize profusely for my dilly-dallying. Being pursued by bandits and hooligans is not conductive to communication. But such are the times… I hope with all sincerity that you continue to be safe, which I assume must be so…given how overprotective Sir Luke is.”

“Overprotective?” Sir Luke’s face turned red with fury. “What does he know about overprotective?”

“But onto more important matters…”

“Here we go. Finally. News,” said Sir Luke. Skyelar just smiled.

“Are you still wearing your hair in the same style? I had a dream that you’d transformed it into something truly wondrous!”

“He provided a sketch,” Skyelar said. Examining it closely. A dark blue ribbon was threaded through her black hair that was braided into a crown on top of her head.

Sir Luke sighed, “It does look pretty that way.”

Anlon continued, “We must reconvene sometime soon so that we can overthrow Jameel… and before you forget entirely about your most devoted friend, me.” Anlon’s image fades from the orb as the message ends.

“At least his loyal,” Sir Luke commented. “And besotted.”

“I wish it was Zayden we’d heard news from today. It seems like it’s been ages since we last saw his hawk,” she said bitterly.

“If he sends his pet to us too often, he’ll draw suspicion,” Sir Luke offered.

“I know. It’s just I miss him. And I worry for my people, King Jameel is a cruel tyrant. ”

Sir Luke silenced her with a hand on her arm, “I understand. He was a true friend to you, My Queen. And we can use as many friends as we can get. The suffering of our people may be great, but our time will come.”

“If King Jameel discovers Zayden’s hiding at the castle…that he’s secretly helping me…” she shudders.

“Jameel is a cruel man. But Zayden is clever. He’ll be safe until our time to strike comes,” he tried to reassure her. “Before we can do anything to take back Dragonstead, we’ll need an opportunity. We…wait. Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

Before she can say another word, Sir Luke whips out his dagger and hurls it into the shadows… A man screams.

“Northumbrian scouts! We can’t let them report back to King Jameel!” Sir Luke yelled.

“It’s her! It’s the Queen!” the one scout proclaimed.

“Don’t let them get away!” Sir Luke shouted back as he rushes after one as the two remaining scouts rushes out of the monastery in

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